#I had more to say about these designs and why I chose what I did BUT it was half a year ago and now ive forgotten..

[thef1diary]

Little Big Fan | Five

- Little Big Surprise

Series Masterlist

wc: 3.3k

The house felt too empty, too quiet.

Isabella has been at her father's house for the past week and you missed her dearly. So, you had to find new hobbies to pass the time. You should've been used to the days she isn't home but you still aren't.

A new addition to your routine was your newfound hobby; watching Formula One races, or more so, watching Max race.

You would've been a fan even if you didn't know him personally, purely based on his driver skills, but that little detail made every moment of the race a tad bit more special. Your eyes would always try to find him on the track with the others, which he was in front of, leading.

You even found out that you could watch an on-board camera for a specific driver while watching the main race screen as well. It was very obvious whose camera feed you chose to watch.

This was the first time you watched the race after coming back from The Netherlands, mainly because it's only been a week since.

Though it wasn't fun watching the race without Isabella, or more like without her own added commentary.

Fortunately, Isabella's father would be dropping her off today. Until then, you had to find a way to pass the time.

Picking up your phone, your finger hovered over Max's contact. The last time you spoke was yesterday, when you congratulated him for the win over text.

You caught up on your pending work, meeting clients, writing up contracts, and even began designing the floor plans. One of the perks of working as a freelance interior designer, was that you could complete it at your own pace. The downside, however, was once you were done, you didn't really have anything else to do.

You worked for a few hours today, so your little break where you contemplated to call Max was well earned.

But before you could decide whether or not you wanted to call him, your phone rang with a call from him.

You quickly answered, greeting him with, "I was just about to call you, but I thought it'd be too late for you." You remembered that even though it was daytime for you, it was nighttime for him.

Max hummed, "too late? Oh wait, you're right, it's well past midnight." You furrowed your brow as his response confused you, but you didn't comment on it.

"So, what's up?" You asked, wanting to know why he called.

"You actually left something when you came to the race, and I kept forgetting to mention it, but I was thinking of sending it back to you as a package," Max explained, and you began to wonder what you had left behind.

"Yeah, sure that's fine, I actually have no idea when I'm going to see you again either." You shut your eyes tightly as you regretted the words as soon as you spoke them. "I mean—" you tried to explain but he cut you off, "I know what you mean and you're not wrong,"

You told him your address for the package, still wondering what you left behind, but dismissed the thought once you heard some noises on the other end. Specifically, noises that would indicate a person is outside, such as traffic.

"Max, are you outside?" You asked, wondering what he'd be doing out at this hour. "What no! Hold on, can I call you back in a bit?" He didn't wait for your response, just hung up the call.

You held your phone in front of you, looking at the dark screen as if it would give you any answers, but as excepted, it didn't. Then, you dropped the thought or at least tried to since Max did say he'll call you back.

You made yourself an iced coffee before falling into the depths of online shopping. Before you could decide on buying anything, the doorbell interrupted you.

"Max" you gasped as you opened the door, seeing him standing on the other side, holding a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands. "Hi," he grinned, eyes taking in your presence since it had been too long since he last saw you.

"You lied about the package," you commented though there wasn't any malice behind your words. "Consider me as the thing you forgot?"

You chuckled at his words but it quickly became quiet as you finally realized that he was truly standing in front of you. "Please tell me you have a work thing here and you're just stopping by because you were in the area?"

"I could tell you that, but it would be a lie," he shrugged. You hesitated before asking the next question, "and the truth is?"

"I just wanted to see you and Isabella again." Either he didn't realize the weight behind his words or he chose to ignore it but you stood there, holding the door, in surprise.

"And now I'm realizing it probably wasn't a good idea to drop by without asking you," Max's words lacked confidence but you quickly shook your head. "No, it's just that you keep surprising me by standing on the other side of the door," then you smiled and added, "this time it happens to be in a different country."

Again, he shrugged like it wasn't a big deal, but if he was able to hear the thoughts running through your mind, he'd know that this was a big deal to you. In the best way possible.

"So, can I come in?" He asked, as he was just idly standing by the door. "Oh yes, sorry."

He passed the flowers to you once he was inside. "I didn't know which flowers you like, but this seemed fitting," he explained the reason behind the sunflowers.

You wanted to ask why, but you held back because in the few weeks you've known Max, he always manages to say something that leaves you speechless.

"It's perfect, thank you. I think I have a vase lying around somewhere." You found one in the back of a cabinet next to your kitchen, and started filling it with water.

Max stood across from you and commented, "that vase should never be left empty."

You chuckled, more at the thought of the vase being full than his words. "It has been empty more often than not."

Although it was just a simple back and forth conversation, Max made a mental note to try and never let it be empty for as long as he knows you. Which he hopes would be a long, long time.

Max looked around the house, noticing a lack of a little ball of energy. "Where's Isabella?"

"At Tyler's. He'll drop her off in about an hour." Once you set up the flowers, you paused, realizing you have to make lunch for Isabella but you didn't want Max to think that you didn't want him here.

"Everything okay?" He asked, always noticing everything. "Yeah, I have to make lunch for Isabella." You didn't know what reaction you expected but it definitely wasn't a laugh.

Max stepped closer to you, rounding the kitchen island that was in between you two. "If you think you have to entertain me as a guest, who by the way showed up unexpectedly, I'm going to think you don't consider me a friend."

You broke out into a smile, realizing that you overthought the small situation. "I do consider you a friend, otherwise I wouldn't have ranted on and on about my job."

"I will say though, if you're making lunch, I want some too," Max added with a sheepish smile. "Isabella's lunch entails a homemade pizza and fries—made with freshly cut potatoes—because that's all she wants to eat every time she comes home."

"Fair enough, let's make extras for all of us," Max began rolling up his sleeves and washed his hands in preparation.

You couldn't help but laugh, "Max, what are you doing?" He looked at you as if his actions were obvious, "I'm going to help you. Did you think I was going to let you make lunch all by yourself?"

There he goes, leaving you speechless. You shut your mouth because you couldn't find a response, and began taking out the ingredients. "Just a warning though, you're gonna have to tell me what to do because I'm not the best chef," Max stated.

"It's okay, you can be my assistant," you responded which made him raise his eyebrows, "assistant huh? I like the sound of that."

You paused, looking at him with a playful glower before both of you broke out into laughter.

You passed him the potatoes after rinsing them, tasking him to peel and cut into strips to make french fries.

Although he didn't notice, you might've stopped a few times while kneading the dough to look at him. Unbeknownst to you, he did the same when you weren't looking either.

"So does Isabella go to her dad's often?" Max asked after a moment of silence. "Sometimes it's every other week, other times it's only a weekend per month," you explained.

Max had loads of questions about Tyler, but he was content in knowing only what you were willing to tell him. This time, you didn't continue the conversation about your ex, and Max understood that you didn't want to talk about it.

The topic was forgotten as soon as you accidentally smeared pizza sauce across your face. You truly had no idea how it got there, but only realized when Max brushed his fingers against your cheek to wipe it away.

However, he only smeared it further. He couldn't control his laughter as it spread and that prompted you to wipe it from your cheek and smear it on his.

He glared at you but it only lasted a millisecond as he grabbed a handful of dry flour. "Max," you warned, stepping backwards in an attempt to get away from him.

You didn't get far as his arm found its away around your waist to pull you back and hold you still. Then, he dumped the flour on your face, adding to the remnants of the sauce.

Your hands pressed against his chest to push him away but it was a useless attempt since he had you cornered against the counter so you had nowhere to go.

You spluttered since a bit of the flour got in your mouth and Max laughed at you. Then, you did the only thing you could think of. Grabbing Max's face, you rubbed your cheek dusted with flour and sauce against his. Now it was even.

Once the laughter died down, both of you noticed how close you were standing. Max couldn't back away because of your palms on his cheek and on the nape of his neck.

Your eyes widened slightly at the realization and you quickly dropped your hands so he could move. Max took a second too long to process that you weren't holding him anymore, before he created more space between you two.

Then, you noticed the time, "shit she'll be here in twenty minutes."

"You should go change, I'll take care of the rest," Max suggested and you looked at him with a raised eyebrow, "you're going to take care of it?"

He nodded like it wasn't a big deal. "You're the one who said you're not a good chef," you spoke with a teasing smile.

"I said I'm not the best chef, I can be a good chef," he reasoned and you couldn't argue with that logic. "Fine, as long as you don't burn my house down."

"I'll try," you heard him as you went upstairs to your room.

"He got me flowers," you muttered to yourself as you picked out a clean outfit. "He fucking got me flowers." The realization hit you hard, more so because you loved sunflowers, and he just happened to randomly guess the right bouquet. Which was something your ex could never do right even after you told him, mainly because he preferred roses and only bought you roses.

"It seemed fitting," you repeated his words, "Max, why do you have to be so nice?" You asked rhetorically as of course he wasn't there to answer.

You hurriedly went downstairs after washing up and changing to see whether Max had done anything wrong. Perhaps if he was a lousy chef, you'd have one complaint about him. So far, you have liked everything about him.

Fortunately, nothing smelt burnt, and nothing was broken. When you spotted him, he was frying the French fries.

You paused in your tracks, and took a good look at him so you could remember this moment later. Max looked very comfortable in your kitchen, in your house, as if it wasn't his first time. You hoped it wouldn't be the last.

"Looks like everything's fine here," you commented and he turned to look at you with a smile, "no burnt houses," he shrugged.

"The pizza still has a few minutes to go, and the fries are all done," he spoke as he gestured with his hands, but when he looked at you again, you had a stupid smile on your face.

"What?" That made your smile widen, "nothing, just, thank you for helping me."

"Always," he responded, already planning that he'll be around as long as you wanted him to be.

The doorbell rang, interrupting your peace but you were beyond excited to open the door and greet your daughter. Isabella definitely got the habit of being overly excited from you.

However, when you opened the door you saw Isabella standing beside Tyler with a frown on her face. "Hi angel, did you have fun?" You crouched down and ruffled her hair.

"Can I go inside, mama?" Her timid voice surprised you as she would usually answer that question happily. "Sure, sweetheart, I'll be there in a minute."

You watched her head inside before you stood up, closing the door behind you so Isabella wouldn't hear your conversation and faced your ex, "what happened?"

He scoffed, "nothing happened, I just told her that I won't be able to see her again as planned because I'm flying out of the country."

"Another business trip?" You asked and he nodded. "She usually doesn't get this upset any other time you cancel, did something else happen?"

"You know how she is, overdramatic," Tyler casually shrugged and that word ticked you off. "Don't you dare call my daughter overdramatic," you pointed at him harshly.

"Oh so now she's your daughter? Isabella gets upset easily, you know this."

"I do not want to hear you say that word again to describe her, I've heard it enough from you when we were together. Now tell me what happened."

Tyler sighed, and for a moment he thought about saying that Isabella was just like her mother, like you, but he didn't want to waste any extra time being around you.

"I introduced her to Emma," he stated as if it would explain everything but you furrowed your brows in confusion. "Who?"

"My girlfriend. Isabella noticed her around the house a few times so I thought it would be a good idea to introduce her," he explained and you were about to interrupt but he kept going. "I don't know if Isabella doesn't like her, but she's been in that mood ever since."

"Tyler, she has only seen us together, so of course if you introduce her to someone else, it'll take time for her to get used to it," you decided to explain in a calm manner.

"You don't have an issue with my girlfriend?" He asked and you raised your brows, "why would I? It's not my business unless it involves Isabella."

He shrugged, then laughed at his thought before saying it out loud, "well I hope that you don't have an issue explaining dating to her, that is, if you ever start dating again."

"My dating life is none of your business. Don't you have somewhere to be? Perhaps back to Emma?"

"Alright, I'll text you when I'm back in the country," he stated and turned around to leave but paused as he saw a new car in the driveway that he knew didn't belong to you.

"Whose car is that?" You laughed at his need to always be all up in your business, "goodbye, Tyler."

You entered the house with a sigh but the sight in front of you warmed your heart, making you forget all about the conversation with your ex.

Max was crouched down onto his knees to be at eye level with Isabella, who had two arms wrapped around his neck in a tight hug.

When Max heard the door close, he opened his eyes and saw you. He removed one hand that was resting on Isabella's back and gestured for you to come closer.

Understanding his silent gesture, you crouched down right behind your daughter and wrapped her in a hug as well, so she was sandwiched between you and Max.

You placed loads of kisses on her cheeks until she started giggling. Isabella let go of Max and turned to face you, "mama, you didn't tell me that Maxy was here!" Just like that, her mood was drastically different from when she first arrived at the doorstep.

"He surprised me too, angel," you spoke as your gaze shifted to Max.

"Did you watch him race yesterday?" You asked Isabella, but her mood dropped again. "No mama, daddy was busy."

"It's okay, you can watch the next one with your mama," Max spoke, and Isabella nodded in agreement. "Okay!"

Then Max gasped, "the pizza!" He quickly rushed towards the oven to check on it, making you and Isabella laugh.

"Maxy made pizza?" She asked as she sat up on one of the barstools, which also happens to be her favourite place to eat even if you have a dining table.

"Maxy and mama made pizza," Max corrected, as he watched you cut it into slices.

"Are you ready for school?" Max asked once all of you began eating. You and Max also sat up on the barstools beside Isabella.

"No." She simply stated. Max frowned, "why not?"

"It's a big school, it's scary." Her words made you frown, "but you're a big girl too now."

"How about we go shopping tomorrow? Buy a new bag, more school supplies, and anything you want," Max suggested and this time you didn't stop him.

You already had a plan to take her shopping tomorrow, mainly because you already knew that Tyler didn't or else she would’ve been beaming about it.

"Even the glittery clips?" Isabella asks with a bright smile on her face, making Max chuckle, "yes even the glittery clips"

"Oh what about ice cream?" Isabella asked, and this time you watched Max become the victim of her pout and big round eyes. He looked at you for help, but you pressed your lips together, holding back a laugh.

"Yes, we can get ice cream too," he gave in making Isabella cheer.

"Alright, angel, finish your food." You gestured to her plate and she quickly obliged, stuffing her face with pizza and fries.

You were glad that Max was here, able to instantly uplift Isabella's mood. However you couldn't help but think about Tyler's words.

You never thought about dating again ever since you broke up with your ex, especially since Isabella was a baby and almost always with you.

But now that she was older, beginning to understand relationships, you thought about her reaction if you ever introduced her to someone you wanted to date.

Plus, you never met anyone that would make you debate the decision of whether to start dating again or not, that was until you met Max.

Taglist: (let me know if you want to be added or removed) @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @glitterf1 @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy

[peachdues]

GASOLINE ON FIRE

COMPASS ONE-SHOT • bad boy!Sanemi x Reader

A/N: a one-shot from my bad boy!Sanemi gang AU fic, Compass featuring Sanemi and Reader’s first kiss. It technically happened off-page in the first Chapter, so I thought I’d share it with you all now because I’m such a sap for these two.

CW: 1.7k • MDNI • mentions of explicit sexual content • mentions of masturbation • Sanemi’s been thinking about Reader in fun ways • first kiss • fluff/light angst

READ COMPASS HERE

You’re both seated on your floor, pizza box sitting in front of you, half-empty, alongside a couple of empty, discarded beer bottles.

“I’ve never had sex,” you blurt, prompting Sanemi to choke on his gulp of beer.

“What?”

You pause in bringing your own bottle to your lips to glare at him. “You don’t have to be rude about it.”

“I’m not,” Sanemi wipes his lips. “Who gives a shit about that — I mean, where did that come from?”

You take a long, pointed sip of your beer before setting it back down, drawing your knees up to your chest. “I don’t know,” you shrug. “Isn’t it weird that I haven’t? We’re both twenty-one — but I’ve never even had a serious relationship, much less had sex.”

That surprises him. He’d thought about your days in school more than he’d be willing to admit ever since he chose your bookstore to hide in all those months ago. He’s devoted countless hours to wracking his brain, trying to recall every minute detail about you, in a concerted effort to figure out why the fuck he didn’t approach you sooner.

But he’d found that he couldn’t quite recall, and maybe that’s because he never had an excuse.

Still, you seem like you should have had at least the opportunity for love. After all, Sanemi can’t imagine someone worthier of it.

You’re staring at him, now, expectant, and Sanemi distracts himself by reaching for his own beer bottle to inspect it. “’S not weird,” he says after a moment. “You’re young. You’ve barely been out in the world.”

“But you‘ve done it,” you push, taking another swig of your drink.

Sanemi nods with a chuckle, setting his now-empty bottle down. “Yeah, yeah I have.”

You refuse to meet his eyes as you mumble, “And you like doing it.”

“Is that what the rumors say?” He asks drily, concealing his faint grimace by reaching for another beer.

“I don’t care about the rumors. I’m trying to make a point, here,” you scowl, finally lifting your gaze back to him. “I want to do it. I don’t want to be a virgin anymore.”

He glances at you from the corner of his eye. “Noted.”

“I want you to fix it.”

His hand halts midair before it can reach the last unopened bottle, and he turns to stare dumbly at you.

You must be joking — or you’re drunk. In either event, there’s no fucking way you’re serious.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it — extensively, for that matter. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it just as badly as you seem to — arguably, even more so, given that he can’t stop thinking about it.

He wouldn’t be caught dead admitting that he thinks of you that way often — so much so that he hasn’t been able to get laid in at least two months, because he couldn’t stop picturing you when he was with his designated fling of the evening.

Hell, he’d only been able to get off that last time because he stopped fighting the images in his head. Ones that involved that flirty sundress you loved wearing pulled down to expose your breasts, bouncing as you rode him, or the blush on your cheeks he imagined would form when he settled between your thighs, mouth lowering to steal a taste of what he could only assume was paradise.

Since then, the only thing Sanemi has been fucking is his own hand. And damn, if those little images of you didn’t keep sneaking into his subconscious. And though he always managed to cum fast and hard whenever those fantasies bled into his mind, Sanemi also was left to feel nothing but shame afterward as he wiped his hand and abdomen clean, guilt hanging heavily over his head for thinking of you in such a way.

For daring to think you might want him at all.

But now, here you were, looking at him with all the hopeful expectancy in the world. As though he has anything worth offering you.

Sure, Sanemi knew you were likely asking him to do it for practicality’s sake. You were a virgin and you wanted not to be anymore. And he was there, your only friend, and he was someone known for being rather unrestrained when it came to matters of the bedroom (or, anywhere that offered semi-privacy, for that matter).

He was a convenience; nothing more.

Did that stop him from considering it? Of course not. He was yours to use as much as you wanted, as far as he was concerned. But he’d assumed his usefulness stopped at being an ear to listen to; a companion — not because of anything you did, but because Sanemi had never felt like he held much value outside of what he could do for others.

And really, being used for this purpose — by you, no less — wasn’t too bad of an idea, all things considered.

But he can’t; he won’t. Part of him wants you to save that piece of yourself for someone who deserves it; deserves you. And that sure as shit isn’t him.

Part of him is also acutely aware that you’re tipsy and thus, the boundaries of your consent are blurry, and Sanemi would rather eat and shit glass than dilute them further.

But another part of him hesitates because he knows that if he does give in — gives you what you both want — that he’ll only further distort what remains of the lines he’s drawn in the sand. Lines, he sternly reminds himself, that are not just his means of protecting you, but rules that he is bound to obey as an extension of the Corps.

Don’t get attached.

And yet, he can’t help but wonder; can’t stop his traitorous heart from swelling, or his mind from running with the faint possibility of what life might be like if he just said yes.

What would it be like to be close to you? To hold you, kiss you, whisper sweet nothings in your ear he’d never told anyone else, but had secretly always longed to share? Would you moan or sigh his name? And if he was graced with the chance to see you fall apart — how would you look? Would you cry out, or would your mouth fall open in a silent o, your pleasure so intense that it stole the very breath from your lungs?

Never mind wanting and being wanted in return — what would it be like to have?

You rest your chin on your arms, eyes fixed on him, waiting, and Sanemi feels himself nearly break right there.

It’s nearly impossible to turn you down in a way that won’t hurt your feelings, but he has to. He has no choice.

He never has.

“Sorry, Princess. Don’t think that’s the best idea.” He reaches over to flick your nose before adding, “Plus, you’re a bit too tipsy.”

He hopes that his disappointment isn’t too evident on his face as he watches you; hopes that you cannot see the way his heart cracks under his own self restraint.

Thankfully, you drop your head onto your arms with a groan, concealing your face in your alcohol-tinged shame.

To his dismay, your obvious letdown punches at that soft part of his heart he’s reserved for you. His mouth goes dry. The idea blooms in his head and he’s acting before he can stop himself.

Just a taste. He swears. Just a taste. A little indulgence, so you know his reticence has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that he isn’t worth it.

“Hey.”

You roll your head to the side to peer shyly at him, a pretty blush still staining your cheeks.

“Come here.”

You lift your head from your arms then, cocking it in a question that Sanemi decides to answer by crooking his fingers under your chin and leaning in.

The kiss he shares with you is soft; measured. Your lips feel like silk against his, and it strikes him that never before has he kissed anyone with so much tenderness. The few kisses he exchanged with his flavors of the night were always sharp, bruising clashes of lips and teeth, each party more focused on sating their own needs rather than tending to that of the other.

Then again, Sanemi never felt this way toward those serving as his temporary distractions. He never thought of them as something precious; something to be adored, the way he does you.

You don’t move your arms from where they’re folded atop your knees, and for that, Sanemi is grateful. He knows that were you to move your hands to cup his face or even tangle in his hair, he would lose whatever thread of self control he possessed when it came to you.

So, Sanemi continues to kiss you slowly; indulgently. He never lets himself deepen it, never lets his tongue flick out along the seam of your lips in an effort to part them. He simply moves his lips with yours for a moment longer before he finally pulls away, though his fingers linger under your chin.

Only centimeters separate your mouth from his, and Sanemi can feel the sweet warmth of your breath as he whispers, “We should pick out a movie.”

You nod after a moment, still too stooped in the haze of his closeness to you. Reluctantly, Sanemi shifts away, his hand dropping from your chin. You don’t see how he flexes it over and over when you turn away to fidget with your remote, Sanemi unable to shake off the memory of your skin under his fingertips.

He watches the movie without really seeing it; his mind is far too preoccupied with replaying your kiss, over and over on a constant, never-ending loop.

He’d hoped that the small kiss would smother some of the fire that has been steadily consuming him over the last few months. A temporary respite to the near constant pang of longing he felt in his chest every time he looked at you.

What a stupid fucking idea that had been.

Because, as Sanemi sits beside you, limbs rigid under the incessant buzz thrumming in his veins, urging him to reach over and lay you back against the rug and make you his, he realizes your kiss was only a gallon of gasoline dumped directly over his fire.

And, judging by the way you keep your eyes fixed resolutely on the screen before you despite the persistent heat in your cheeks, Sanemi thinks you might be just as hungry for him as he is for you.

Oh, he’s fucked.

likes/reblogs/comments always appreciated!

[socksandbuttons]

DCA/TSAMS ARTFIGHT ATTACKS

All my tagging is gonna be underneath cause i have COMMENTS

First the mass Lunar Attack, listen this took a WHILE and my last attack took so long... had a lot of fun with posing and putting the chaarcter where i think they made sense in interacting. lots of fluff and tails! and there woulve been more if i had more time. left to right here also u can tell what the theme was

Umbra - @ocean-lunar ive drawn them before i think but theyre so funky sillyyy

Follower Lunar- @/ms.dawn on artfight, i was trying to decipher what the au was and then looked at the other characters and went AH. he chillin' safety on the cloud!!!

Evil (purple) Lunar - @galaxysugarr I APPRECIATE THE LIMITED PALETTE SO MUCH. i love his pose still gets some cloud sir.

Lunara - @starheirxero LISTEN I SAW THE DESIGN AND I LIKE TO GATHER THE LUNARS. loving the rags dvbkjd

Callisto (Lord Lunar) - @artyheartz I DEBATED ON EITHER UR EVIL BOY OR UR GOD originally hen i saw him wanted to draw him with his eclipse but dfkd anyway he prettyyyyyy <33

Lord Night - @madcatdaderpydrawer-blog ALSO remembering drawing him in my lunar files dhvs one of the aus ive seen since before the dawn of the new age. Look at him goooo i like the sublte stars in his cloak so coolll

Killcode Corrupted Lunar - @artoutoftheblue HI THE CONCEPT INTRIGUES ME LOOK AT HIMMMM fdbvkj twas on me list the moment i saw him!

God!Lunar @starays13 UR BOY IS THE ONE I SAW AND INFLUENCED WHY EVERYONES ON CLOUDS ad why i chose a whole mass attack (i saw cloud kingdom say no more, he vibing!!!)

And the last one is my Lord Lunar. bdjkfss dont worry about him. I had fun trying to finish this. i can also send yall the individuals of ur characters if u want!

And now continuing

Sunsettia and Gala @cinnamonnala BRUH U KNOWWWW U KNOWWWW, i enjoyed drawing sunsettia a lil too much but lord the patterns fvdjvs gala moments before next nap!!

Protocol @catspawcreates WE SHAKING HANDS ON KILLCODES ON ARTFIGHT!!! A fun guy to draw once u get going!! and i like the palette could do lineless with that!! stretchy magnetics boyo smooch Lord Bloodmoon @o-i-w-u HEY YOO COOL BEANS i liked drawing this one the style of lines being light remind me of that rythm ribbon game vribbon??? Either way cool design for a lord Bloodmoon!!

Tycho, (beaned) Bloodmoon, Meteor @garbagechocolate THE BACKGROUND... i scrapped my first draft thats a recreation. BUT UR BOYOS. Tycho is such a delightful guy and METEOR i dont see them enough but <33 darling. and classic bloodmoon even tho he small rn dont worry about that. Causes problems later. Starlight @/Solar_Eclipse on artfight - I SAW THE TEAL I SAW THE SASS I SAW THE GOLD. i was hi i love them. SHINE BRIGHT SUPERSTAR!!

Luna, Ballet Lunar - @nekojaf @senota-skulls BALLET LUNARS IN MY HOUSE??? I SAW THE PRINCESS TUTU OPPORTUNITY AND THEN TOOK IT it was fun drawing!!! love them mwah <33

Polaris, Eclipse @huskyliker - I SAW POLARIS ON INSTAGRAM BEFORE AND SEEING U ON ARTIFIGTH I HAD TO. and i leanred more, shes so sillyyyy <333 girl wins

Honey @/ClipseTheBean on artfight - ONE OF MY TRADITIONAL ATTACKS. Getting the values of my greys right was a task BUT BBY DBKCSJ THEY WERE SO CUTEEEE Enzo @/JitteryBuggie on artfight - More grey tones with that POP of puprle i loved drawing her and then dreaded lining gbvsks

Angel, Angel, and Angel Lunar! - Myboyo, @melodyartiez @simpalert THE MOMENT I WAS SCROLLING AND SEEING THIS I KNEW RIGHT AWAY. Angels everywhere o m g <33 theyre so cute tho i like that Angel was christmas vibed and Angel Lunar LIL DRESS/TUNIC?? fbdkcs perfecttt

ANYWAY THATS IT FOR THE DCA ONES see this is why all my commentary is under the readmore fbvhjs

i enjoyed a lot of the process with all these. and more confidence in simple background

Hope yall enjoyed artfight!! i did for my first year!

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream on their honeymoon!

AN: someone requested this one. GASP, THANK U. Mentions of sex lol because what's a honeymoon without sex. (Implied that you two already did it, but the first night meant having sex as a married couple, why am I explaining this jksdfkjsdk)

Mark Lee

Mark would probably take you somewhere in America. Probably LA or Miami, somewhere in the coastal area. Just you two enjoying the beach and spending the day at the carnival or fair land. You two are young lovers enjoying the night life in America! It'll be full of alcohol, giggles, and just spontaneous foodtrip! You two will book an airbnb with the cutest and coziest interior design. Also the first night would probably be more intimate and you two are nervous but at the same time, clumsy because you two wouldn't stop laughing ?? as if you two didn't fucked before lol. 

Huang Renjun

Since your wedding with Renjun is during the summer or spring season, he would definitely take you to Japan for the honeymoon. It'll be during the cherry blossom season! It's cute and something about seeing the first bloom makes it exciting for both of you. You two will book a nice expensive hotel room and just spent the duration of the honeymoon sightseeing and of course, taking pictures around cherry blossoms trees. The first night with him is just like the first time you two had sex, but this time, you two are now married and much experienced. So it's much more special!

Lee Jeno

Jeno would take you to Japan too because he knows how much you love the culture there. He'll book a nice traditional house, (for the vibe he said.) and just take you to places like Tokyo Disneyland and Ghibli museum because you're a child at heart! He'll enjoy it too of course! You two also did A LOT of shopping. Also his looks are so exquisite, very tourist husband vibes with the shades and camera. OKAY so the first night with him is VERY much intimate, like you two just sitting in front of each other before you tell him to please take care of you. And he'll just smiles and say the same thing.

Lee Donghyuck

I like to think that you and Haechan probably fucked after your wedding, and that's because you two were so drunk after the reception LOL. But despite having a beach wedding, Haechan will still have a beach destination for your honeymoon. Bali, Palawan maybe. Anyways, you two will book a room in an expensive resort that's overlooking the beach. It's just a honeymoon full of beach activities, playfulness, and just you two being lovey-dovey!! Will kiss you under the sun set at some point. Also the first night will be much more romantic compared when you two were drunk. 

Na Jaemin

Jaemin would probably take you to Europe for your honeymoon. Somewhere in Amsterdam or Paris because he's a romantic. Definitely a city tour especially during night where the city's much alive, filled with people and just bustling with noise??? yeah, you two would be holding hands giggling as you two venture out the city. Will also be that photographer husband who takes cute photos of your cute fits. He'll book an expensive hotel room for you two and for the first night, he was very very careful of you, like he was such a gentleman because he wants to show how much he loves you. 

Zhong Chenle

Chenle would think that it's fun for you two to stay within each other's comfort place, so he'll probably take you to Shanghai or maybe Singapore city. It'll be city tour too! Since he's very confident with talking with locals, you two will have underrated food trips and just take you to interesting places that he found while canvassing the area. He's the type to hold your hands because you tend to get lost in the crowd. You chose the accommodation, so you found a cute airbnb that suited each other's taste. The first night with him is full of playfulness! Chenle would constantly tease you but it was still lovely nevertheless.  

Park Jisung

Jisung would also bring you to Europe because he thinks that the 'honeymoon' vibe is just there. Probably in Rome or Barcelona. You two would book a nice hotel that overlooks the entire city, it was breathtaking when you two entered the room. You two would go sightseeing, try local foods, and just take pictures of each other. Jisung has his arms around your shoulder when you two are walking, and both your outfits coordinate! Also he likes to steal kisses from you. The first night would be romantic Like Jisung prepared EVERYTHING and you just lay there and be pretty for him. 

[littlemarianah]

I have a headcannon that it was Peeta's mother who used to decorate the bakery's cakes before him.

She learned it as soon as she married the baker, and is kinda good at it.

Maybe that's why she's so picky about the cakes Peeta makes. "If I had done it..." is what she always says when is about to criticize him. But the truth is that the boy is so good that it's difficult to find something in his cakes to complain.

Peeta took his mother's artistic essence. She is good at crafts, always painting the bakery sign with elegant calligraphy, decorate them with flower designs.

Mrs. Mellark would be a good artist if it weren’t for her complete lack of imagination. For her the books are nonsense, and the illustrations are children’s drawings.

That’s why she didn’t let Peeta draw too much when he was growing up. “go do something useful.” She said “You will not learn to knead bread making doodles.”

She never wanted to be a baker, she never wanted the life she chose, but she knew it was the only way. Her father was a drunk, her mother was neurotic

She didn't choose her husband out of love. She chose him because he was stable, because he was disciplined, because he could be a good father. She didn't have children because she wanted to be a mother, but because she needed more hands to work.

The first was planned, the second tolerated, the third an accident.

After the games, when Peeta returned home, limping and with deep-set eyes. She went to visit him a few times in the victors village.

Peeta's house wasn't organized like she taught him to leave his room. Was a mess. His room was full of pages with scribbles, tubes of paint amd unfinished paintings. Art and more art, everywhere... Mrs. Mellark didn't even know that her son still painted. After he became a teenager, was good at hiding who he really was from his mother. She never saw him draw again, but the truth is that the little artist she tried to repress so much never stopped drawing.

Drawings of landscapes and places, many doodles from the small bakery where he grew up. Drawings of people, neighbors, customers, many drawings of the hunting girl. Peeta paints her much better than she really looks, without marks, without scars, without the frown she has. For Mrs. Mellark, it's just another sign of the madness her son has fallen into.

To the woman’s surprise, she find some drawings of herself, all unfinished. Peeta always seems to stop drawing when he get on her face. Lots and lots of unbedded scribbles of herself. She has always preferred to be feared than loved, to be the tough guy when her soft husband doesn’t have the courage to discipline his children. But it pains her to see that her husband’s drawings at least had the decency to be finished before being thrown into the pile of forgotten scribbles.

Peeta. Her youngest boy. Weak like his father, sentimental, scared, soft. She was perhaps a little heavy on him growing up. She saw how very fragile he was when he was little. He wasn't like his brothers, Peeta was always an outsider. And she always saw that... So she doesn't even try to scold him for the mess in his house.

After he came back to the games she could only see in him the small, scared boy who always tried to hide under her skirt when he was young. And with that memory, comes all the times she pushed him away and told him to become a man. That a six-year-old boy shouldn't cry like a soft girl.

But Mrs. Mellark regrets nothing, even if the memories make her uncomfortable. Was because of that he won the Hunger Games. She taught him to endure, she turned the weak boy into a grown man. She never apologized for that, even though her son hates her forever.

She didn't visit him much in the victor's village, but one of the few times she did, Peeta thought she would fill him with complaints about the dirty house. But she just does said:

"It's not because you're crippled that you have to stay inside this house all day, go sunbathe and open the curtains." And then she left a fresh loaf of bread on the kitchen table and when home.

That was it.

One of the last interactions Peeta had with his mother before she died. Buried under the rubble of the bakery that she fought her entire life to maintain, with the children she raised to become respectable bakers. Men enough to take care of their wives and children. Everything she fought for her entire life was left in ashes and the only one of the boys left was the one she never thought would prosper.

Peeta misses her sometimes.

He thinks his eldest daughter looks like her grandmother a bit. Big blue eyes and dimples on her cheeks. He sometimes thinks he even forgives his mom, not all the time, but sometimes. Peeta misses her discipline and resilience. Sometimes he wants to hear her voice telling him to stop whining and come back with his head held high.

Perhaps the only lesson she taught him and stuck with him until the end is that the Mellarks never give up. Every morning, they wake up early, turn on the oven and work until sunset. That the Mellarks are never content with little, that they never accept mediocrity.

So he teaches his children to lift their heads after a defeat, to try again after they fail. Because The Mellarks never give up.

[bornagainmurdock]

harmonious

author's note: hi omg thank you anon for this request! i was a band and orchestra kid and love love love this idea! i decided to go with cellist, not sure why but i have strong feelings about matt loving cellos.

contents: fluffy, matt murdock x reader, gender neutral reader, meet cute technically, and then a series of cute dates, first kiss

word count: 1.9k

Matt had been a regular at the syphony since he had graduated law school. It was a nice constant in his life knowing that every month on the third Friday he could go to the music hall and hear music. Various guest musicians shuffled through, each featured for one show before traveling to a new city to guest, but tonight was something different: a member of the symphony was being granted a guest spot, performing as the soloist for the week.

You had started playing cellos what felt like eons ago. Playing felt like second nature, so when you were offered the guest spot for April, you accepted on the spot, already having put together a concert's worth of music to perform.

Matt had heard your name before. You had features every now and then in pieces. Since he was a regular, the music hall started printing braille programs for him. He liked running his finger over your name. It was his favorite song. So when he heard you were the soloist, he couldn't have been more excited.

He hadn't spoke to you, but had heard you speaking in the lobby post shows talking to your family and friends that had attended.

Tonight, the night of your headlining show, Matt spent an extra hour getting ready, trying his best to look pristine and perfect, not a hair out of place. He had asked Karen to help him find some nice cuff links for the show a few weeks back, so tonight when he finally unboxed them, he pressed over them with his fingers as he clasped them and smiled. Two little metal silver forte designs.

At the show, Matt recevied his braille program, finding his way to his usual seat and dancing his touch over your name over and over, excited and smiling the whole time.

When the curtain rose and the auditorium fell silent, Matt wiggled in his seat, placing the program in his lap to clap the director providing your introduction.

Throughout the show, Matt gasped and clapped at your skills, constantly impressing him with your musical abilities.

Once the show ended, you approached the mic and thanked the audience for coming, and laughed. It felt like golden sunlight to Matt, his smile glossy and bright as you spoke.

When the curtain fell, Matt stood, walkign out into the lobby and waited to hear your voice.

"Mom! Thank you for coming. I'm so glad you could make it." You shouted.

Matt wasn't trying to eavesdrop on your conversation, but he did want to congradulate you on a great show, so he began to walk over to you.

"Excuse me, sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to say that you chose a lovely program. I am constantly amazed by your talents." Matt spoke, blushed and starstruck.

"Mr. Murdock, what an honor to hear a compliment like that from you, one of the best lawyers in New York. I'm really glad you liked the show." You smiled.

"That's far too kind, but thank you." Matt said.

Your family and friends walked away for a second, giving you some time to speak to Matt.

"I'm grateful you came to talk to me this evening. You always seem to dart out so fast, never get a chance to thank you for supporting the arts." You said.

"The symphony gives me some time to myself to enjoy the wonders of the world. I'm glad I got to speak to you this evening as well. I feel very lucky to be in the prescense of such greatness."

"I could say the same. I have to mingle about the room, but could I get your number?" You said, perhaps a bit too forward, but willing to embarass yourself nonetheless.

"Absolutely. Here why don't you put yours in my phone, and I'll call you." Matt smiled.

"I'd like that."

You grabbed Matt's phone that he passed to you and typed in your name and phone number before handing it back to him.

"Hope to see you soon, Mr. Murdock." You smirked.

"Same to you."

Matt messaged you that same night, sending you a beautifully crafted congradulations message about the performance. Then, within the minute, asked when you were free.

You both set up a date for the next week, choosing to go to a new restaurant you both had never been to before.

---

The night of the date, you got ready, and started to head for the restaurant, seeing Matt on the opposite street corner, crossing to meet him.

"Matt. Hi." You said, trying not to startle him.

"Hi. It's good to see you. We're close to the restaurant, right? Sometimes I miss count my blocks." He joked.

"Allow me to escort you." You touched his arm, allowing him to use you as a lead.

When you got to the door, he opened it for you, allowing you to walk inside. At the host stand, Matt spoke.

"Two for 8. Under Murdock." He shuffled, folding his cane away.

"Yes, of course. Follow me." The host said.

Matt reached for your arm again, and you walked to the table.

Once the host brought waters, Matt took a sip and then sat back into his seat.

"Your show really was great. I really appreciated your choice of Haydn's Cello Concerto No. 1. A classic, but not played much anymore." Matt started.

"Well thank you. It was once of the first cello features I got to play in high school. Fell in love with it immediately and wanted to honor that memory here." You smiled.

You bantered the whole night, starting the discussion with mentions of the show and classical music as a whole, but eventually making your way to childhood.

"DId you play any instruments as a kid, Matt?" You asked.

"Didn't have the chance to. Came from an athletic family, and then the church didn't have anything but the organ. I've played a bit of guitar, but just the basics. Foggy taught me during law school." He laughed.

"Maybe you should show me some of your skills. That is if you still have that guitar."

"I think if I touched a guitar now I'd start on fire. I prefer to admire the music, not create it myself."

"I think that's fair. I mean, without music appreciators like you, I wouldn't have an audience." You said.

Once you both had finished your meal, you helped escort Matt through the maze of tables and out onto the New York street.

"I've had a really great time tonight." You said.

"I did, too. There's a jazz trio show around here next week. Would you like to join me?" Matt asked.

"I would. I don't get to hear much jazz, so I think that's a great idea. I'll see you then, Matt."

"Let me know when you get home safe." Matt said, unfolding his cane.

"I will. See you soon."

---

That next week you met Matt at the cocktail bar for the jazz trio. He was already sat at a table when you got there, nursing a bourbon.

"Hi! Hope I'm not late." You said, sitting down.

"Just in time. They go on in a few minutes. What would you like to drink? I can order for you at the bar." Matt asked.

"A vodka martini please."

"You got it."

He stood and ordered at the bar, bringing back your drink.

"Do you come here often? It's really nice in here." You looked around.

"I do. One of my favorite nicer places. Got an espresso martini here once and kept coming back. Not every cocktail bar can pour an espresso shot as good as here." He chuckled.

The band entered the stage, adjusting the seats and mics before introducing themselves and starting the set.

Between song, Matt would talk to you about the music, telling you about his favorite jazz musicians and other lore that he found important to the show.

"I've heard these guys play before, and let me tell you their bass player, off the charts. Can't top him. Can't listen to the original version of that last song since him."

After the set, Matt took both of your glasses to the bar, and walked outside with you.

"Thank you for inviting me. I had a really nice time. I love hearing your insights into music. It's like you're breathing fresh air into everything." You blushed.

"I'm so glad you enjoyed the show and the bar. Do you need to get back, or would you like to walk for a bit?"

"I'd love to walk."

"Or we could go get late night ice cream." Matt suggested.

"I think you're a genious."

Matt grabbed your arm again, but this time he led, taking you to his favorite late night ice cream spot.

You looked at the menu and decided, allowing Matt to order first.

"I'll take two scoops of pistachio in a cup." He smiled, allowing you to get closer to the counter to speak.

"I'll have two scoops as well. One white chocolate and one cotton candy." You said.

When they finished scooping your orders, you grabbed both bowls and joined Matt at the picnic table outside.

"A pistachio guy, hmmm. I'm learning a lot." You teased.

"White chocolate and cotton candy. Says a lot about you, too."

"Oh and what does that say?" You joked.

"That you're fun loving and adventurous. You've never been here before and you got two non-typical flavors. You're not scared of change." He attemped to appear serious in his attempt at reading you but continued to smile and giggle as he spoke. "What does pistachio say about me?"

"That you're a weirdo that likes pistachio ice cream." You laughed.

"You got me there."

You both fell into a pit of giggles, trying to catch your breath before laughing again.

"My cheeks hurt. Stop it." You continued laughing.

Once you were both done, you tossed both bowls and spoons, Matt standing beside you.

"Can I walk you home?"

"I'd like that."

"Lead the way captain." Matt ironically saluted.

He took your arm again and you started wlaking the few blocks back. Since the date had started, you don't think there had been a moment of silence besides during the jazz set. It was magical just how well you both got along.

Once you got to the stoop of your apartment you unlached Matt's arm.

"Thank you again for tonight. I had a really good time." You said.

"I really like going out with you." Matt agreed.

There was a minute of silence: you looking at Matt, and Matt fidgetting with his cane.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked.

"Please."

He leaned in, placing his hand on your cheek, and kissed you.

It only lasted a few seconds, but you were seeing stars. When he pulled away, he kept his hand on your cheek, smiling at you.

"Wow." He spoke.

"Wow." You repeated.

"You should get inside, it's getting cold." He said, blushed again.

You leaned in to kiss him once more and put your hand on his cheek this time.

You walked up a few steps of the stoop before turning back.

"Let me know when you get home safe."

"Will go." He smirked.

[13uswntimagines]

I'll Take Care of You (Alessia Russo x MMA!fighter R)

Request: Could we maybe see some slightly more stern dom alessia dealing with r (doesn’t have to be smut) in front of the team because reader starts acting bratty with them?

Part of the same universe as the come down.

Warning: Slight touching but not actual smut. Also D/S fic

Author's note: Hey Y'all, i really hope you enjoy this. I want to point out that D/S dynamics are based on trust and communication, so that's what I chose to focus on. Alessia is a soft dom, and chooses a punishment that she knows will be effective. If you want to chat or have any ideas or comments, feel free to hit me up.

Gearing up for a fight was the equivalent of stretching out a rubber band to its limit. It was 8 weeks of nonstop training, 4 weeks of conditioning your body to shed water so you could make weight, 2 weeks of cameras following you around for UFC embedded, and 1 week of media bombardment where you had to listen to grown men act like 5-year-olds talking about who was going to beat who.

It was utterly exhausting. 

The only upside was that at the end of it, you got to step into the octagon and do what you did best. 

You got to put the plan your coaches drilled over and over into your brain into place. You got to release all of the built-up anxiety and frustration from camp. 

You got to fight. 

It was like coming up for oxygen after being trapped underwater. Sometimes the cage felt like the only place you could really breathe on your own. 

It had been your safe haven for almost as long as you could remember, which was kinda strange considering your health was put at immediate risk every time you stepped inside. It had been your escape from your family, and your only coping mechanism for as long as you could remember. 

To go through training camp, and fight week and the weight cut, only to have your fight pulled at the last minute was fucking devastating. 

It was like when Alessia brought you all the way to the precipice of an orgasm and then pulled away just before you could tumble over it, except far far far worse. 

It made your blood boil. It made the monster in your chest roar that your opponent couldn’t do his end of the job to make the fight go on after all of the shit he was talking. And there was nothing anyone could say or do to make it better. 

Dana promised that the fight would be rescheduled. He even threw in that if you won, you would be next in line for a title shot. 

But it didn’t help. 

The fight was set to be at the O2 arena, meaning your girlfriend and all of her teammates had been set to see you, and now they couldn’t. You couldn’t get your 10 training weeks back and you would have to do the weight cut all over again. 

It was a shit sandwich, and it made you feel completely out of control. It made you crave for someone else to put you right again. For Alessia to remind you that she had control always. 

Maybe that’s why you chose your satin button-down shirt to go to dinner with your girlfriend and her teammates and paired it with tight black skinny jeans. 

It wasn’t often that you liked to push Alessia’s control. That you toed the boundaries that she set, but tonight it felt like the prize comparable to stepping into the cage. 

With the little black dress she had worn, you really couldn’t blame yourself either. You could never resist when she showed off her legs. You were obsessed and she knew it. It was probably why she had chosen the outfit, to begin with. 

It was probably designed as a reward of sorts for after your fight, except you weren’t having a fight. So you supposed it was kind of like a consolation prize. 

Except you felt wound too tightly to really enjoy it.

“So that’s it, they just call the whole thing off?” Ella asked leaning forward to rest her chin in her hand.

“Yep,” You popped the p, your finger running a gentle circle on Alessia’s exposed knee. “I can’t even sign a paper that says I’m fine fighting him despite the failed drug test, and it’s too late to find a replacement even if we allow a catchweight,” 

She let the movement continue, the hand wrapped around your shoulder gently squeezing the arm furthest away from her. 

While she was relieved that the rules prevented you from fighting a man on steroids, she knew how gutted you were about the cancellation.

“Probably for the best mate,” Leah said, sipping her wine. 

You shrugged, letting your finger trail a little higher on Alessia’s leg. 

It was slightly too… forward for the steakhouse her teammates had chosen, but with the dimmed lights you figured no one could see your hand under the white tablecloth anyway. Not with how close you were sitting to your girlfriend. 

“I already made weight, so it’s kind of a waste,” You muttered, dragging your nails up the inside of her thigh to just below the hem of her dress. “I’ll have to start camp all over again unless I take something short notice,” 

“Can you do that?” Mary asked, from your other side.

You shrugged again. “I told Dana I was game if he needed someone to fill in, so we’ll have to see,” 

Alessia’s eyebrows pulled tighter together “You didn’t tell me that, love,” 

“Didn’t I?” You asked, feigning dumb, as your fingers finally made it past the hem of her dress. “Must have forgotten. I’m excited to see you all play on Tuesday though,” 

You ran your nail across the sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh, dangerously close to her center. But before you could make it any further, her free hand caught your wrist, and repositioned you so your hand was resting very innocently near her knee again. 

“Ireland is always fun to face,” Ella smiled at you. “Should be a bit chippy,” 

“I’ll definitely be rocking my MacCabe jersey,” You matched her expression, your thumb again beginning to rub circles into Alessia’s skin. 

Leah frowned, dropping her menu. “You will?” 

“Absolutely,” You smirked, wiggling your eyebrows and slyly trailing your thumb back up Alessia’s thigh. “Gotta support my favorite foul-mouthed Gooner,” 

Leah’s eyes went wide, and Alessia squeezed your shoulder. 

“And what about me?” Your girlfriend asked, a pout pulling at her lips. 

You wiggled your eyebrows, a witty remark at the tip of your tongue, knowing it would piss her off, but the tension in your chest made you unable to stop yourself. 

You wanted to push her. To force a reaction, even when you knew all you had to do was ask for what you wanted. 

“Are you ladies ready to order?” A waiter asked, appearing behind Leah before you could let it fly. 

You let your smirk widen, closing your menu with a thud and making eye contact with the waiter. 

“Since she’s not on the menu,” You started, leaning closer to your girlfriend for just a second, edging your hand even further up her thigh until it was again past the hem of her dress. “I think I’ll have the tomahawk, medium rare with a Yorkie and the roasted carrots please,” 

You winked at the waiter for good measure as the table giggled and Alessia’s cheeks turned bright red. 

The waiter cleared his throat, turning his attention to your girlfriend. “And for you ma’am?” 

Alessia opened her mouth, probably to order, but you cut her off instead. 

“She’ll take the sirloin, medium with the Orzo and kale salad,” You said, reciting her normal order with perfect precision. “And she’ll be having me for dessert later,” 

More giggles erupted from your friends, and you dragged your hand impossibly higher, extending your pinky so it brushed against her underwear. 

She inhaled sharply next to you, sending you a warning side eye as the rest of the table continued to order, but she didn’t immediately remove your hand. 

You ignored her warning, letting your pinky slide over the satiny fabric of her underwear. 

It wasn’t what she normally wore, and you couldn’t help the wolfish grin that took over your features. 

She had worn lingerie for you. 

Maybe that should have stopped you. Made you consider that you wouldn’t get anything if you kept pushing, but again you couldn’t seem to help yourself. 

“Will you be in the Ireland friends and family section then?” Leah asked, wiggling her eyebrows at your girlfriend. “Cause I don’t think my family or Less’ will enjoy you wearing the opposing team’s jersey,” 

You made a noise like you were considering it as you finally slid your hand up and cupped your girlfriend’s heat. “I don’t think I’d feel at home though. Surely your family can deal with it right Less?”

Alessia nodded once, very stiffly. “My family loves you no matter what you’re wearing,”

You smiled impishly at her, adding just a little more pressure to her core. 

She shifted in her seat, leaning very close to your ear, as Ella started talking about some movie she and Joe had watched, taking the attention of the rest of Alessia’s teammates. 

“They’d even love you if you had to wear your collar at the game,” She chuckled darkly in your ear, her voice soft enough to get lost in the noise of the restaurant as her free hand yet again caught your wrist and pulled your hand back to a much more innocent position. “Now behave, or I promise you’ll regret it,”

You pulled away, your devilish smirk only getting broader. “No,”

Her eyebrows furrowed her expression something between anger and concern and warning, like she was trying to figure out why you were pushing the boundaries when you never did before. 

You wiggled yours in return, offering her nothing else before joining the conversation of her teammates. 

You weren’t ready to talk yet. 

You were too content digging yourself deeper and deeper. 

*****

You continue to push Alessia all throughout dinner, taking every opportunity to make her blush or to creep your hand further up her thigh. At one point you had even wiggled a finger beneath her underwear before she could stop you. 

And your behavior hadn’t stopped once you left the restaurant. 

You definitely placed your hand far too low on her waist as you and your friends walked back to the hotel the UFC had rented for you, and winked cheekily at the fans as you entered the building, spending far too long signing things and flirting just to annoy your girlfriend. 

You knew from the “come on darling,” and the way she wrapped her arm around you, her fingers closing gently around the back of your neck that you were in serious trouble as she led you into the hotel and to the elevator. 

“Good luck mate,” Leah nodded towards you as she stepped into her hotel room after Mary and Ella. “Think you’re gonna need it after that show,”

She tilted her head toward your girlfriend glaring a hole in Leah’s doorframe. 

“Good night Leah,” Your girlfriend bit out, pressing her thumb into the space at the very center of the back of your neck.

Leah rolled her eyes at the movement, well aware of the dynamic between you and your girlfriend. More aware than most of her teammates for both club and country because of how long you had known her. “Right you two, do have too much fun,” 

You stared at the door for a long moment after it closed, the tension in your chest bleeding down to your stomach.

You knew your time was up. That you would have to pay the piper so to speak, and it had guilt swirling along with the unpleasantness. 

You knew that all you had to do was utter a word and it would all be over. 

You knew that Alessia would stick to your limits, no matter how hard you pushed her, but you couldn’t help the… lingering anxiety that came from your past relationships. 

The ones that took advantage of your submissiveness, and the unhealthy way you had always chosen to deal with stress. The ones that ignored your pain for their own pleasure. 

 “Come on then,” Alessia said, very gently running the nail of her thumb down the length of the back of your neck, and squeezing your shoulder. 

You hummed, allowing her to lead you down the hallway to your own hotel room door, but she paused before she opened it. You looked up at her, realizing suddenly that you were trapped between her and the door. 

She stepped closer so your noses were nearly touching. She dragged her hand from your neck to your chin, using her thumb to tilt your head to where she wanted it. 

“I love you,” She said, her voice soft and sincere. “No matter what,”

She leaned in the last centimeter separating you, connecting your lips in a very sweet kiss. 

You leaned into it, opening your mouth when her tongue poked out, welcoming it and meeting it with your own so they spun in a slow dance. 

It was the reminder that you desperately needed. 

The promise that she would take care of you, even when you acted like a brat. 

She pulled away just enough to disconnect your lips, and your mouths separated with a low pop.

“Remind me of your colors,” Alessia said, her thumb running across your cheek. 

“Green for good, yellow for slow down, and red for stop,” You recited, your voice breathless. 

“Good girl,” She hummed. “Open the door, and take off your shirt and pants once we get inside,” 

You swallowed hard at the change of tone. 

“Yes Miss,” You said, already pulling the key card from the back pocket of your jeans. You didn’t look away from her as you fumbled until you heard the lock on the door beep, and clumsily pushed it open. 

You stumbled backward, unwilling to break eye contact with your girlfriend because you knew you would probably get very little of it tonight. 

She turned away from you as soon as the door slammed shut, busying herself with something you didn’t know. 

“I believe I told you to do something,” She said, not even sparing a look over her shoulder at you, and you realized you had been staring for too long. 

You cleared your throat, your fingers trembling as they unbuttoned your straining shirt. 

You carefully pulled the satin materials from your shoulders, folding it neatly and laying it on the bed before you started on your pants. 

It took you three tries to undo the button, the zipper getting caught in the stretchy material of your boxers. You peeled your tight jeans down your legs, folding them and placing them next to your shirt. 

You felt Alessia’s presence behind you as you pulled off your shoes and socks. 

As soon as they had been placed in their rightful place, her hand found its way to your bare back. 

The touch was soothing and grounding and exactly what you needed to combat the slightly floaty feeling in your brain. 

The hand slid up your back, all the way to your neck. 

“Kneel,”

The soft squeeze on the back of your neck was like magic, as was the soft, but stern order. 

You sank to your knees without question, your butt resting on your heels, your hands facing palm up on your thighs, your back straight and your head bowed, as the tension in your chest slowly ebbed away.

“I think we need to have a chat,” She continued, the hand on your neck sliding up to run through the hair at the base of your skull. Her nails scratched soothingly at your scalp. “Because your behavior in the restaurant is not the behavior of the good girl I trained,”

You grunted, glaring at a spot in the carpet. 

You didn’t want to talk. 

You already had to talk to Dana, to your coaches, and to the media. You had nothing left to say. 

“Do you want to tell me what that was about at dinner?” She asked you, the fingers on your scalp wrapping through your curls. She gave it a sharp tug, forcing you to look up at her. “Because I’d really like to know what the fuck you were playing at,” 

Her blue eyes burned into you, concerned and… something else lingering below the surface. 

“I wasn’t playing at anything,” You grit out. 

She raised a perfect eyebrow at you, as she searched your face.

“Is this because your fight was canceled?”

You didn’t answer her, unwilling to admit how… off balanced it made you feel. 

But that was enough of an answer for her. 

Her eyes softened minutely. “Baby,” 

You shook your head. 

You didn’t want her sympathy or her pity. 

You wanted her to crush you. 

“Alright,” She signed, tilting your head back so far it was painful. “I’m going to give you 2 options. We can call Clarke and Lexa and they can run you through a workout,” 

You shivered at the mention of your respective striking and jujitsu coaches, knowing already that whatever the alternative was, you would be choosing it. 

“Or you can take a punishment of my choosing,” She finished. “It won’t be an easy one,” 

“I’ll take a punishment,” You muttered after a beat. 

You didn't need easy right now. 

She hummed, holding you close for a long second, and you relished in the attention. 

That had been why you acted out at all anyway. 

She dropped her hold on your hair suddenly, and you crashed back on your knees. 

“On the wall,” She said, completely cutting contact with you, and walking towards the little kitchen area of the suite. 

You let out a shaky breath, pushing yourself to your feet, and shuffled over to the wall next to the television across from the couch. 

You turned to face the couch, wincing when Alessia pulled a wine glass out of the cabinet and a jug of water from the counter and returned to you. 

She carefully filled the glass to the halfway mark, before her attention turned to you. 

You knew immediately what punishment she had chosen. 

The rules were simple, you would balance the glass in one of the designated calisthenic positions. If the water spilled, or the glass fell then you would move to the next position. The punishment would be over when you made it through all 15 positions to Alessia’s satisfaction, or if you safeworded. 

It sounded easy, or like it wouldn’t be effective, but that was entirely wrong. It was the punishment that you hated the most. 

Your stomach never failed to drop when Alessia approached you with the wine glass and water. Just the sight of her with it was enough to have your muscles quivering at the impending fatigue. 

“Ready darling?”

You made a low sound, leaning back against the wall, bending your knees, and getting into the first position. 

A wall sits with your knees pressed together to focus the pressure on your quads. 

She used a hand on your shoulder to push you further down the wall until your thighs sat parallel to the floor, and then very carefully balanced the stem of the wine glass between your knees so the base just barely brushed your hamstring. 

You frowned. She usually balanced it on top of your legs further up your thighs so all you had to do was stay level. But where it was now meant that you would have to stay level and squeeze with your adductors so it didn’t slip and spill the water. 

“Tell me your color,” She said, her thumb sweeping under your chin, drawing your eyes away from the glass to meet her blue. 

“Green,” you murmured, leaning into the gentle touch. 

“Good,” She hummed, cupping your cheek for another long second before she pulled away. “I’ll be right there, reading my book,” 

Your gaze trailed after her as she settled herself on the couch directly across from you, picking up the 7 Husbands of Evelyn Hugo. She easily found her page and began to read. 

You glanced back to the balancing glass between your knees. It was already shaking slightly, the liquid vibrating around the bowl of the glass with the effort of your muscles to keep it in place. 

It irritated you that you could already feel your quads and adductors quivering. It was pathetic that they were already fatigued after only 30 seconds. 

You grit your teeth, letting your hips slip down further so you could squeeze with your glutes to take a little bit of the pressure off of your adductors. The glass shifted minutely, and the water inside sloshed dangerously before it settled. 

Your eyes flickered back up to Alessia, wondering if she saw it too, but her eyes stayed planted in her book. 

That irritated you too. 

The only upside to your fight being canceled was that you got to spend more time with her. You wouldn’t have to split your attention between her and not getting your face caved in. 

Now you didn’t even have that. 

You thought of safewording and forcing an early end to your punishment. It would be a violation of the rules though.

But when she found out that you broke her trust (the most severe infraction you could ever commit) she might choose a more… harsh punishment. One of the ones that was listed in the soft limits the two of you had agreed upon. One that would separate you from reality, and leave you feeling floaty and thoroughly controlled. Thoroughly owned. 

A part of you wanted her to forcibly put you in your place. To disregard how bad it would feel tomorrow and the bad memories it would bring up for you, and just demolish you. To crush your will and grind you into dust. To beat you into oblivion. 

It was what your opponent would have done anyway. 

You knew Alessia would never agree to it while you were this upset. She didn’t like to give in to your self-destructive tendencies. 

The glass between your knees shook again, drawing your attention back to the warm fire setting deeply into your quads. They would ache tomorrow you were sure, but then again wasn’t that part of the point?

It would be a reminder that even when she wasn’t with you, you belonged to Alessia. It was an invisible mark that claimed you. That reminded you she would always take control when you felt dangerously unstable. 

And then it clicked.

This punishment was Alessia’s favorite because it was based on your choice to obey her. Your choice to push your body to its limits to please her. Your choice to give her control over you. 

She didn’t need to use a belt or a paddle to bend you to her will. 

She just had to ask. 

You just had to relax and trust that she would take care of you. 

You let out a long breath, counting down from 3 in your head. You let it fall back into the wall with a low thump and your shoulders sagged, as the remaining tension in your chest drained out of you. 

“Good girl,” Alessia said softly, and the page of her book turned. Your eyes darted back to her, hoping that they would be on you, but they weren’t. 

She looked so composed, both legs tucked under her, reading her book. It was diametrically opposed to how you felt, completely out of control. A quivering mess fighting to stay in a simple wall sit. 

It further reminded you of your place, and the weight of it was enough to have your eyes sliding closed. 

You focused on your breathing, 3 seconds and 3 seconds out. Deep and slow. 

You lasted for more breaths before the glass slid from between your legs, landing on the carpeted floor with a light thud. 

Your eyes snapped open, and again you expected to meet Alessia’s eyes, but they remained trained on her book. 

“Next please,” She said softly, flipping another page in her book. 

You slid down the wall to the floor, sucking in another long breath as you nodded, wishing that she would just look at you, but you knew that was part of the punishment too. 

You took another breath as you rolled over to your stomach and sat yourself up on your elbows, squeezing your core. It was a slightly modified plank designed to show off the muscles in your back and arms for the benefit of your girlfriend and to give your legs a break for a bit. 

She waited until you were in a position to stand, slowly padding over to you and grabbing the wine glass off of the floor.

She paused next to you, and you felt the way her eyes dragged across the muscles on your back. 

“Always so pretty for me,” She hummed and you heard the water as she refilled the glass. “Too bad you can’t have the reward I had planned,” 

Her touch lingered as she carefully balanced it between your shoulder blades, and stepped away. 

“Let’s see if you can beat your best time on this one,” She said, talking more at you than to you. “Your record is 22 minutes, which isn’t quite championship timing. I think you need to make it at least 25,” 

You groaned. 

Her competitive streak was legendary and often a part of your punishment when you had been particularly ornery. You switched positions at her pleasure, so you knew you would be planking all night if you couldn’t break 25 minutes. 

It was like when she decided you needed to break your edging record. 

There would be no mercy unless you safeworded. 

You focused on your breathing as she sauntered back to the couch, fighting to keep your core and back muscles locked to prevent the glass from tipping. 

Your abs clenched, and you so badly wanted to roll your shoulders to relieve the tension building in the space between them. The space holding the glass. 

You focused on the sound of Alessia’s breathing. Each rhythmic inhale and exhale like the clicking of a metronome, broken only by the occasional fluttering of a page. 

You wished she had put the timer in front of you so you could see how long you had left. 

But then again that would probably be worse. 

You always found it harder to go the distance in a fight when you could see the clock ticking down. It always made you feel more exhausted at the end of the round, and made standing up off of your stool at the start of the next round that much harder. 

You sucked in another breath, refocusing on the sounds of Alessia’s inhales and exhales. You counted each one, letting them wash over you and lul the fog slowly seeping through the crevices in your brain. 

It let you forget the trembling in your core muscles and the sting between your shoulders. They didn’t matter. All that mattered was each of Alessia’s breaths, and your ability to please her. 

To be honest, you forgot about the water balancing on your back. 

You shifted, lifting your head so you could watch Alessia, and that sent the glass tumbling to the floor with a low thud. 

She looked up at the noise, pushing herself to her feet and grabbing the glass. 

“Good job darling. You made time.” She rewarded you by meeting her eyes for a long second and flashing you a winning smile. “Position 3,” 

You took another deep breath as she filled the glass. 

You pushed yourself up into a pushup position, slowly lifting your right arm and left leg so they extended. 

Your arms shook immediately, and it was then that you recognized just how exhausted you were already. Your core ached in a way that was edging on unpleasant, and your back felt like you had run 5 rounds with your jujitsu coach. 

It was strange that you felt so drained and you had only made it through 2 positions. 

Alessia waited until you were stable before she balanced the glass in the very same area between your shoulder blades. 

The spot that felt so tight.

You knew you weren’t going to last long before she even stepped away. But you tried to breathe through it. You tried to ignore the little beads of sweat collecting at the small of your back, and the cramp setting in just below the glass, radiating up to your neck. 

You deserved the pain. You had done your damndest to make sure Alessia gave it to you. 

“Tell me your color,” Alessia said, her voice dripping dominance, sending a shiver down your spine and causing the glass to tumble off your back. 

You collapsed to the floor. 

You hadn’t even made it a minute. 

“‘M ok,” You murmured into the carpet, each breath rattling as it left your lips.

You hadn’t even lasted long enough for Alessia to make it back to her seat. 

It was pathetic.

“That’s not what I asked you,” She said, crouching next to you, her hand resting on the throbbing space between your shoulders. “Tell me what your color is,” 

Your brain ran into overdrive, taking stock of the burn in your thighs, and the way the muscles in your back were locked up tight, and before you could even think through all the reasons why you shouldn’t safe word, “red,” was falling from your lips. 

You had been red before you even started position 3, you realized. 

“Good girl,” She said, settling fully down beside you, her hand running soothingly up and down your sweat-soaked back. “You did so well for me, and I’m so proud of you for knowing your limits,”

You groaned into the carpet as warmth spread through your chest, chasing away the last of the tightness that had been there since Dana caught you after the weigh-ins. 

“‘M sorry for pushing you,” You mumbled, your words nearly getting lost in the floor. “Didn’t know how to…” 

You trailed off, losing your train of thought. You weren’t even sure what you didn’t know how to do, only that antagonizing your girlfriend. Your miss. Had been the only way that seemed to make sense to achieve it. 

“I know darling,” She hummed, gripping under your arms and shifting so your head was resting in her lap and your upper body was between her legs. “Take some deep breaths for me, and then we’ll get you cleaned up and we can cuddle,” 

You made a low sound of agreement. You felt content with her completely around you, her scent enveloping you, and her hands running gently through your tangled hair. 

She was the stability to your rocky seas, and you trusted that she would take care of you, just like she had already tonight. 

A cuddle sounded perfect because it was perfect. 

It was everything you needed. She was everything you needed. 

[king-crawler]

HEY HI HELLO

Sorry for the random message here In the asks, it's ok if you don't see this or answer it since you probably got a lot already and I understand if you don't see this!/gen

But first of all, I just wanna say

I CANT BELIEVE I HAVENT WATCHED YOUR ANALYSIS VIDEO SOONER IM SO FUCKING LATE MAN

It's so well done and so fucking funny, I was literally smiling and cackling through the whole thing, it's shocking how similar our humor is

NOT TO MENTION THE END SCENE AREE YOU KIDDING HOW DID YOU MATCH THE LYRICS SO PERFECTLY TO THE FUCKING LORE ITS INCREDIBLE 😭💜/GEN, POS

It's insane how much dedication is put into it, let alone singlehandedly feeding turbo fans as myself

Genuinely thought it's so nice seeing more content for a hyperfixation I've had since 2012, and the fandom coming back along with this video Genuinely brings me so much joy as someone who's loved this movie since I was a kid

Sorry for the ramble but genuinely thank you for making that video, I can't wait to see what other stuff you do, wreck it ralph or not I WILL be tuning in/gen, pos

Okay second of all

The main reason why I'm sending this is because of sometning I noticed while rewatching a scene in the movie

Now, this might be me over analyzing as I usually do but it feels TOO. OBVIOUS.

SO

IN the kart bakery scene where vanellope and ralph go to bake a kart, they obviously make their way into the building and into the main room

You see all the Karts of course, and It pans to the one vanellope chooses

Which, at first glance you wouldn't really pay too much attention, especially when watching it for the first time, she's just picking the model she likes

..but looking back at the scene

Vanellope's kart model, how it was supposed to look, looks very

Familiar

Because the kart she chose..

...is a red and white kart

With stripes down the middle, with a very similar shape to a..certain persons kart. Now this might just be nothing, it's probably just like I said, and over analysis on my part

But the kart the chose looks WAY too similar to turbo's, not to mention the stripe is down the middle, just like turbo's car on the cabinet art of him

And vanellope could've chosen ANY kart

But it was that specific kart she chose, out of any of the karts

Not to mention in some of vanellope's concept art...

(Art made by Lorelay Bove)

..Vanellope's concept design and turbos designs strike SCARILY uncanny resemblances to each others designs

From the helmet and colors

All the way down to her GOGGLES having the SAME. YELLOW. TINT. that candy's have in the movie, which have the same effect here. There's no way that this didn't have the intent to mirror turbo purposefully

So with that in mind, the kart vanellope chose in the kart bakery scene being turbo foreshadowing, wouldn't be too out of place, nor would it be too far off

Turbo's foreshadowing was always prominent, even in the smallest details you wouldn't focus on, just like he's infecting this world as a virus, little by little, everywhere. You. Turn.

Aaaand that's basically all I have to really say

Sorry for the long ramble, I've been thinking of submitting this for awhile now, especially after I told a friend about this and they mentioned that this should be submitted to you

So I decided to go ahead and just do it, no matter how wild my comparisons might sound-

Anyways, I hope you have a good day, night, or what time it may be, and keep being awesome! I can't wait to hear back if you see this! Bye-bye! ❤️🏎🏆

P.s

I've been quoting these since I watched the video and haven't stopped

Thanks for destroying my humor even more-/pos

Okay bye bye now-

-skitters away-

NO YOU'RE SO FUCKING RIGHT OH MY GOD VANELLOPE WAS ALWAYS A TURBO PARALLEL??? CHAT IS THIS TRUE. IVE NEVER SEEN THAT CONCEPT ART OF HER TEEHEE THANKS FOR SHARING

also God. This is 99% just a coincidence with zero merit because its such a common gesture- but Ralph and Vanellope doing their thumbs up.. maybe Turbo parallels ?? and like the EXACT same poses too:

Vanellope having one hand on the steering wheel and the other doing a thumbs up while facing the camera.

Ralph hunched over doing the double thumbs up with the visor tinting his face yellow. EXCUSE ME HMMM?? WHAT THE FUCK??

NOW COULD I BE CHERRY PICKING? PERHAPS. but when Turbo has barely a minute of screentime, there's not a lot i can pick from, and things SURE ARE LINING UP... (I'm cherry picking)

SO SHHHHHH... ❤️❤️❤️❤️ LET ME HAVE MY LITTLE CONSPIRASCY

[kanmom51]

A couple of words

So...

JK is with JM.

We all know that.

It's a fact, no matter what those that have their panties in a knot say, or more so, what they would want.

These assholes (you know who I'm talking about) can argue about it all they want. They can squirm and twist and scream and pray, but at the end of the day facts are facts.

JK and JM chose to enlist TOGETHER, through a process that has them TOGETHER, in the same unit, in the same base. Not same duties within the unit (the military utilizing their individual strengths), but all the same, at the end of the day they are TOGETHER.

It makes me laugh how there are those that still argue they aren't placed together, and then there are those that have obviously come to terms with the two being together in one unit (well not really, but have no arguments left as they keep being proven wrong), that now they have shifted their argument to the two not sharing same bed or quarters.

Like, haven't they had enough already? It's just so exhausting.

This incessant need to disprove what these two mean to each other. They are both in the military serving their country. A military that deems sex between two men (while on base, as limited by the supreme court) to be an offense punishable by incrassation. Are there queer men in the army? There most certainly are. Are there men sharing quarters and/or beds in the military? There sure are. JM and JK being in the military and as such being assigned to quarters by their superiors... would them sharing quarters or a bed add or take from what they are and mean to each other? It's stupid to think it would. Serving together is their choice. Being able to share quarter or a bed, well, that would not be entirely up to them, even if that would be a choice they would want to make.

I hope I am explaining this properly.

Bottom line is, they might be sharing quarters and even a bed, but even if they aren't, it doesn't take from what they are to each other or mean to each other, and it most likely wouldn't be by their own design.

What more do you want? Really? Would a selfie from their bed do it for you? Perhaps a shirtless one? Maybe a kissy kissy selfie? Not gonna happen. Not to prove a point for you, in any case. Oh, and btw, we did get many selfies from them in the past.

Same bed, shirtless, very suggestive ones as well. Didn't convince you then, and I am sure it won't convince you now either. You will always have a stupid excuse or explanation why it's not what it is. Just like you do now...

Seriously, the depth of denial at this point is past annoying. Because, no matter what you think about the state of their relationship (and by now you all know my take on the two of them, partners in long term relationship of course, but there are still those having a hard time to commit to it), you have to be an outright idiot not to see or understand and internalize that these two are together at this moment by choice (as no other member of the group and with no other member of the group). They have told us and shown us time and time again what they mean to each other, and this here is them telling us oud and clear that they couldn't go through these 18 months of military service apart from each other.

And yesterday it seems like JK had some time off from his very busy and laborious duties. Or, he chose to spend his couple of hours of rest between meals to go online and for us to know he was online. He actually seemed to have spent quite a bit of time on TikTok following a few more accounts and liking some clips.

He liked some Hobi clips (for his upcoming documentary and album), liked a couple of Fri(end)s' clips and he also liked JM's #thisisJimin dance clip for Closer than this.

JK chose to not only like it, but to comment on the clip as well:

An explanation perhaps? You know, for not liking this earlier, as he did JM's previous #ThisisJimin clips? And understandably so, given the clip was released 21 December 2023, seeing that they were both doing their basic training at the time.

And maybe this is a coincidence... maybe it isn't (you know what my feelings are about those Jikook coincidences), but this happening on 24 March 2024, exactly 1 year from the release of Face.

Idk man...

I gotta remember this is JK we are talking about here.

Same day as this was happening too.

Not saying a damn thing here...

Or am I?

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you maybe do a Wednesday and Enid x reader (platonic or romantic) where basically the reader comes from a very rich family and likes to spoil Wednesday and Enid.

(I hope this makes sense)

Is this what you wanted? Idk but I thought a headcannon format would be more sufficient for this but again idk. You tell me.

You spare no expenses when it came to Wednesday and Enid. You never bothered to try in fact because it didn’t really matter, as the money spent would eventually find itself back into your parents bank account anyways so why should you fret about accidentally crossing certain thresholds?

So when Wednesday’s typewriter starts having complications, hindering her writing time, you assured her that you would be able to get it fixed by the best people there was in fixing things. However it turns out that the typewriter was irreparably damaged and you had to buy Wednesday a new one that was personalised to be coated in a matte black colour and you even had her initials engraved on the front of it in gold cursive.

Wednesday may not have looked visibly thrilled at the new typewriter but her bland words of “I’m so ecstatic that my face can not comprehend how to convey it.” Were all you needed to know that she did in fact liked her new typewriter and began working on her book as though nothing ever happened. The next day you found a dead bird in front of your dorm, this was Wednesday’s way of saying ‘thank you.’

You even went out of your way to find enid a new part for her laptop when she complains to you that she couldn’t get anything do without it. So once again you went off to find the best shops available in Jericho that could help you in finding what you needed. Unfortunately due to it being the city of Jericho there weren’t a single good shop in sight that even had the part you needed in stock nor even in the back with the rest of the recent deliveries.

Typical.

With that you resorted to plan b and reached out online to shops elsewhere and ordered it for a next day delivery as to save yourself and enid the agonising waiting game. You even got her some other parts should this happen again but all of them were expensive and of state of the art manufacturing with the added promise of longevity and efficiency.

Enid was gobsmacked when she learnt that you did this all for her. “How can I pay you back for doing this for me?” She would ask but all you told her was that you didn’t need to be paid back for as long as she was happy and that the part was doing it’s job smoothly without any hitches, then that’s all the payment you desired.

This didn’t stop at fixing and or replacing their broken stuff but it also extended to their birthdays where you got enid more squishmellows for her growing pile, top of the range designer clothing that you’d knew she would look stunning in, new sets of nail polish, moisturisers, makeup and some new fairy lights should her current ones light their final night.

For Wednesday it was a little more trickier as she hated her birthday being celebrated in the traditional sense that you and enid were brought up with and instead you bought her an actual guillotine that she had set up next to her cello outside on the balcony of Ophelia Hall, dissection kits, things to keep her cello in top condition, some dark flowers that didn’t require much caring for, pacidermy animals much to Enid’s dismay as Wednesday would always seemingly have them face her whenever she said something that Wednesday wasn’t particularly fond of.

When Wednesday and enid try to repay you on your generosity, enid worries that due to your upbringing, you would be expecting diamonds, gold and the such thrown at your feet but Wednesday told her that she was exaggerating and that yes, you were born into an extremely wealthy family but the addams noted that you have a preference for the smaller things. So out they went to Jericho and chose a couple of things that they thought you’d might like.

Enid got you some cute toys that she though would add to your dorm along with getting you a matching snood with her and Wednesday that you could all wear to class together. Wednesday got you a necklace with a dead crow with a black Dalia sprouting from it’s heart with some of it’s crystal feathers dotted here and there up the silver chain as to give off the impression that this crow was shot out of the sky. She also got you some uncouth stuff like a hand mace or an taser for self defence for when people who couldn’t get the hint.

She wouldn’t admit it but even Wednesday was a little nervous that you might not like what they got you. However she didn’t have to continue putting belief into that thought as your eyes light up at each and everything that she and Enid got you that by the end of it you looked to both of them with the widest grin they’ve ever seen. “Thank you both so much! I love everything you’ve given me! Nobody’s given me things that I actually like!”

“What do you mean by that y/n?” Enid asks, confused.

“My parents think that splashing their money on expensive stuff for me is what I want but it’s not, I could care less about having the state of the art phone, tv, clothes, none of that matters to me but it seems that to them, that’s all that matters is to not only be rich but look rich too…so when they started putting large sums of money into my bank account, I spent it on the things that I want, on the clothes that I felt good in rather then what they think I’d look good in for their reputation. So I thank you both for these,” you told them as you squeezed one of the plushies Enid bought you close to your chest, “I love them a lot.”

“Even the taser?” Enid asked as Wednesday stared at her

You chuckled, “yes, even the taser. After all you can never be too sure when a creep is nearby.” You looked to Wednesday who’s lips almost uplifted into a proper smile but came back down into it’s neutral state just seconds later.

[chi-the-idiot]

For a while now I've wanted to draw my interpretation of the voices, until I realized how EXCRUCIATINGLY DIFFICULT drawing anthropomorphic birds actually was (my most sincere respects go to the artists who were able to put foward their visions).

But then I thought "wait, they don't have physical bodies, they are voices inside the protagonist's head".

SO BOOM, THE VOICES ARE SHADOWY SHILOUETTES BABYYY (part 1, probably)

The Cold was the first design I made, so he doesn't really have much thought process behind him except "make him creepy".

That's why he has that very prim and handsome smile almost none of his other companions have. Come on, zoom in on it, I know you want to feel its warmth radiate through the screen.

What I also did was leave him wing-less. Full disclosure, this idea originally came from another user here on tumblr who posted their designs for the voices, but I tried to search for the post again and couldn't find it (if anyone remembers the username or the post I'm talking about, please send it to me so I may tag them accordingly, i will continue to look for it in my liked posts). Although I do not remember why they chose to leave him wing-less, this did spark the idea of all of the voices having their wings damaged or fractured in some shape or form, either due to their own nature or due to their separation. This is also why he has those scars in his back, chest and face.

The Paranoid was next, and I already had a much clearer idea of what I wanted to do. His wings are not damaged because of the separation, but rather his own anxious nature led him to pull out most of his feathers, and making him even more of a shivering mess.

His scars are my favourite ones, as again they don't only stem from the fracture. Rather, they come from his encounter with the nightmare. Remember that she seems to have some sort of electric power, so I decided to make his scars originate from her touch, and leave marks similar to those a lightning ray would make.

I have to say that The Hunted is my favourite tho. I made him more corvid instead of humanoid, to really pinpoint his more animalistic nature. His fracture is more similar to that of a mirror, and with that I wanted to make a connection with the Narrator as well, sort of hiding their relation to one another in the design. Im still not sure if that one was caused by the beast or the fracturing, but I really like him.

Finally, a scale, for you to witness how absolutely minimal the hunted is, because I love that about him. Birb boy.

Anygays, thats me for tonight, byebye

[techramonic]

An Interview with Galina Roslyakova: Vlad’s personal life according to his mother

A year after the shooting, BAZA, a Russian news outlet, interviewed Vlad’s mother Galina Roslyakova. Here are several details she had disclosed about her son:

He was gifted in drawing and engineering, however was an average student.

When he was younger, Vlad attended a kindergarten in Kerch with a chess focus. His mother considered him as a normal child who had an interest in drawing. He had hobbies such as architectural modeling, construction, and designing. He had a particular fascination with airplane models that he would try to configure by himself, although his father would occasionally help.

He then continued to paint throughout his life and excelled at it, Galina believes he inherited this skill from his father, Igor. Vlad mostly expressed an interest in drawing domestic animals and portraits of people. He focused a lot on the details.and drew rather thoroughly. Unfortunately, she has none of his drawings left to reminisce.

In school, he was “statistically average”. He studied for at least three to five hours and was in the middle line of poor to excelling. He didn't dislike nor have an interest in school and had no specific goal yet. According to Galina, “Not all dreams can be realized.” So in a pragmatic sense, his parents tried to instill something that would have perhaps helped him by trying to search for something suitable for his life and future. She had also described Vlad to be somewhat confused or unsure of himself:

“You can show a different side of yourself. You can realize yourself somewhere else. And this period of transition from school to college was somehow unconscious. A lot depends on how this might turn out. Every person's views and values ​​change. Children must realize during this period that they are growing up primarily for themselves. He understood that he was not quite a child and not quite an adult.”

Vlad did not finish highschool and went straight to college, explaining why he was 18 during his 4th year.

Galina and Igor saw no point in enrolling him into 10th and 11th grade because it was unclear to them that he would graduate at all, seeing that his academic performance was mediocre at best. During his transition from highschool to college, Galina recalled it to be a stressful experience, “just like any other transition”, she says. She had attended all parent meetings and recalled that teachers would often describe her son to be socially inept. He was not keen on socializing but she figured this must have been his way of coping with his adaptation, since it was a contrasting environment to what he was used to.

“I went to all parent meetings. At the beginning of the training they were carried out. I talked with curators and other teachers. There was a phrase that he was not very sociable . Not all people are open and ready to communicate with others. At that time it was a period of adaptation. Everyone tolerates it differently, but I wouldn’t say that he had a difficult time with it.”

More on relationships, since their house was located in a residential area not far from other neighbors who lived nearby, Vlad easily could communicate with a few neighborhood kids whom his mother considered to be his “friends”. Rather, they were his classmates. 

“I think Vlad chose exactly those friends who suited him according to his views and interests at that period of his life when he was at school. He also played Minecraft. Well, of course, communication there is no longer only with classmates.”

Vlad still kept in contact with his father despite his mother's wishes to not be so in touch.

Technically, Vlad's parents were not officially divorced. Igor’s traumatic brain injury which subsequently led to the development of a mental illness was seen by Galina as a danger toward her and her son if they continued to live together. Coupled with the fact that he developed a dependency on alcohol, she had figured out that she had to make the resolution to move out with her son to protect their well-being. Despite this, Galina mentions that even with their separation, Vlad still communicated with his father, since it is a relationship not within her control. At first, Vlad was offended but as he grew, he began to contemplate the idea of his mother’s decision. He continued to communicate with his father as he grew older.

“With age, he made his own decision. He begins to make his choice whether he should communicate with his father. What will this give him and does he need it? That is, he could decide for himself. That is, in this regard, I gave him freedom of choice.”

He would often go to the garage together on weekends, which developed Vlad's interest in technology and personal interests like motorcycles, which he would’ve liked to study. Vlad then on became a major in the course: installation, commissioning and operation of electrical equipment of industrial and civil buildings.

Signs of isolation and depression were under the radar since he barely communicated.

Apart from the detail that teachers have said he was rather not very sociable, closer to the third year he already became withdrawn and kept to himself. He would often divert this topic of his behavior as his ‘right to privacy’ whenever asked, so no further questions would ensue. He was silent most of the time, got ready to go to class straight away and sat in his room ("another office") to scroll through his phone. He was quiet, didn't talk about himself that much, which led her to not anticipate the events that would unfold soon after. However, she said that she could sense a slight change in him, since he became more private. She did respect his boundaries however, since she saw it as his right to personal space. 

“Well, slightly, so to speak. Because, in principle, many people reach such a period and age, and so, in communicating with their friends who have children of this age, many children tend to have, so to speak, personal space. Personal life, this is how the period begins. You know, like “I have the right to personal space, ‘I have the right to privacy.’ Within reason, because we live together in the same apartment”

Did he need more attention? Galina expresses that although she didn't primarily focus on him at all times, she did care for him and paid attention. She tried to make him talk and actively made efforts to communicate with him to get him to open up more about himself, however to no avail. So, in an outward perspective, everything seemed rather normal for her, and with the lack of properly established and structured communication, it was difficult to see through her son. After all, you cannot properly fit in puzzle pieces when there are no pieces provided to arrange.

It was difficult for her to speculate about the topic of whether or not he was depressed, nor did she anticipate that somehow he felt abandoned because he would often just sweep things under the rug. The signs didn’t manifest in any way in everyday life because again, he was very secretive and rarely talked about himself in conversations at home, so things easily fell out of notice and undetected.

“What percentage of love do children want to receive from us? Do we feel this as parents? Or if they tell us, let’s say: 'Well, at the technical school there were difficult tasks and classes, I’m so tired that I don’t want to communicate.' And you are trying to do everything to make contact with him. The children say: 'Well, I don’t want to now.' You won't really force him too much... But you still have to try to do it. Basically, I tried to do all this. What provoked it, I can’t say anything. For me, all this still remains a big, big secret as a mother. I cannot put together logic and specific pieces of the puzzle for myself. Therefore, everything remains like this.”

Vlad's online presence was monitored until the age of 14.

Galina had monitored his online access until he was around the ages of 13 to 14. After the age of 16, this period however stopped because of the gap between parents and their children's familiarity with devices and the technologicaĺ world. So, she stopped keeping track. 

“I wished in my heart that somewhere they had slowed him down.”

She was unaware of his online presence in crime communities since 2016. According to her, at home he only sat and played minecraft,

“I didn't see this. If a person really wants to hide something... Maybe he did it sometimes, but not in my presence. At home he sat and played Minecraft. He talked there with one, then with another, then boys, then girls - they all communicate with each other there, laugh. There were different emotions, there was laughter.”

She was aware that he went to study firearms in the summer.

Vlad shared a common interest with his father with firearms. He also said he would join the army. Galina speculated that this might be due to the benefits, since the income of military salaries was fairly high. Vlad earned an internship at a plant prior to this, and it was good news for her but in reality, Vlad's perspective was that he did not generally take a liking to the place.

According to him, “I talked to the people who work there, I don’t see much prospects in income and in general my place in this.”

During the summer, he then began to study firearms through the internet and via the Internet, register with government services, and collect documents. She was against this act because she saw no purpose to this, however, she couldn't stop him. He excused this by saying he had an interest in hunting. Though she initially thought that he had given up on this prospect and moved on, since these documents were rather complex and difficult to complete, he then went on to successfully buy a gun after passing the exams and receiving his license. 

She hadn't known of this, of course, since it was reported that he hid his gun in an abandoned warehouse to avoid speculations from her.

Here's the article, if you want to read more:

https://baza.io/posts/1b2005f5-d53e-4380-989d-b6f846cd6aab

[atopvisenyashill]

imo rhaenyra’s “madness” being that of a cult leader capable of convincing her followers to do ostensibly insane things cuz she’s just that charismatic & self-assured in the correctness of her beliefs is way cooler and less sexist than the typical ‘she went crazy’ targ nonsense, "ohhh ‘mad queen’ daenerys she’s so crazy it’s that classic targ madness just like her ‘mad’ ancestor ‘mad’ king aerys you never know with those ‘mad’ targaryens" that’s so boring lol, give me something believable

YES i honestly don’t understand and have been increasingly annoyed by these really disingenuous “oh so when rhaenyra slaughters innocents it’s totally fine bc she has the divine right 😒” criticism when it couldn’t be more clear that’s not what’s happening. i mentioned this with the white stag before, how people are taking the most bad faith reading of it imaginable and saying that’s objectively what the writers intended when….it’s very clear the writers are intending for a more nuanced exploration of the entire concept of the white stag, YOU (general you, not you anon) are purposefully taking it in a negative way because you like being pissed off. what an obnoxious way of engaging with the story!

and i feel the same here! the main criticism i see of rhaenyra is that a) she’s not allowed to get her hands bloody/she’s always in the right and b) they’re making it seem as if she has the divine right to commit violence due to the prophecy. there is absolutely no narrative basis for these readings though, it’s COMPLETELY people projecting.

the reason she doesn’t do anything earlier in the season is because she also isn’t doing anything in the BOOK during this section because of her grief. i think criticism of HOW they wrote that is valid - the fact that she doesn’t speak at all in the first episode was a heinous choice, i get what they were going for, but it fell so flat that as Professional Writers they should have realized they were missing the mark there - but this constant “rhaenyra doesn’t get her hands dirty” “rhaenyra is too perfect” is so fucjing obnoxious. they’re ✨building up to it✨ guys, it’s why they did the stuff with Aemond not meaning to kill Luke and then actively attempting to kill/harm Aegon, it’s why the Green Council goes from squabbling to actively suppressing Alicent’s voice, it’s why Rhaenyra's convos with Jacaerys have gotten increasingly more angry, on and on. Sorry you all wanted Rhaenyra to be a Born Evil Queen, but if they’re not doing that with Alicent, why would they do that with Rhaenyra? "Oh they only had Jacaerys call the dragonseeds mongrels because-" my comrade in christ they took Alicent making the decision to lock the smallfolk into the city and gave it to Aemond to make her look better and make Aemond look worse it's the exact same thing and they're doing it because they're trying to have a conversation about the cyclical rot of feudalism and the way these people are completely trapped by their own design in this cycle of violence!!!!

and YES very much, this gets into point b which is like....THIS is Mad Queen Rhaenyra, THIS is Rhaenyra the Cruel! It's Rhaenyra holding onto this prophecy that gives her the divine right to be violent, that represents her father choosing her over everyone else, that represents her own worthiness as a ruler, that every single fucked up thing she's suffered is worth it because the fabled hero will come from her line, because Jacaerys will follow her onto the throne and there will be unending peace, because Viserys chose HER he loved HER he only ever loved HER, and she HAS THE RIGHT but what does "have the right" even mean. "oh they always portray her as morally in the right" NO THEY DO NOT YOU ARE MAKING THAT UP. Rhaenyra thinks she's morally in the right and the show is constantly making her face the consequences of her own actions, and showing that (again, and I cannot overemphasize this enough, just like Alicent, just like Viserys, just like Aegon, and while they do it sloppily with them, just like Aemond and Daemon!) Rhaenyra will close her eyes to the glaring faults of the people around her and the violence she is helping to perpetuate because to her in the end, all of this suffering has to be worth it and she has this fancy little prophecy that is showing her it is worth it. That's so interesting! It's fascinating! "Well I think she-" Well that's just your opinion man! I'm having a fucking ball watching her step closer and closer to the edge and insisting that she's staying still, she's playing safe, it's everyone else that is taking the leap. That's fun, that's engaging, that's a good way of depicting that dichotomy of how greatness can so easily turn to madness.

[cornenhapovs]

♡゙  :  𝖫𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾  𓈒      📹  ？

|| pairing : sunghoon park x yn || contains nsfw || not proofread ||

"You'll love it, trust me."

Sunghoon seemed just as excited to give you the present as you were to get it. I saw a Victoria's Secret bag on my bed " sunghoon " ??? I asked him curiously . "Ah, I bought you a cute lingerie set, I'm sure it'll look incredible on you."

He was looking extremely excited to see you try them on, as he had chosen them based on his own thoughts of what he would like to see you wear. "Go try them on, I'm sure they'll fit you perfectly." He pushed me inside the bedroom to change. I gasped when I took a glance of me in the mirror . The lingerie was in pink color with little red roses adorned as the designs . It hugged me perfectly. He surely knows what's he's buying . But there's only one problem it was see through.....

Sunghoon was starting to get extremely excited now, as he was eager to see you in that ensemble. He was waiting for you to take them and go try them on, as he was really looking forward to what you would look like in them. Sunghoon did you chose this ? I asked from inside . "Yep, I picked it out myself." I heard him saying .

I finally picked up my courage and stepped into the room. Sunghoon finally looked up from his phone and was stunned. His mouth agape and slightly red hue covering his cheeks. He couldn't help but smile as he watched how your body was fitting into the outfit, as it was really flattering your curves and shape to great effect. " Sunghoon umm everything is visible " I said shyly . "I know." Exclaimed Sunghoon in his deep soft voice. He definitely loved how shy you were being in the revealing outfit , and he also loved how it made you look so incredibly gorgeous and enticing. "I want you to embrace how it looks on you, don't be so shy.

" I like it ... " i said . "Good, that's exactly the response I was hoping for." He found you absolutely irresistible, and he definitely liked the fact that you didn't seem to mind the revealing nature of it. It made you seem even more intriguing and attractive to him. Suddenly you felt him coming closer .... He was starting to get a little bit too excited about the situation, as he was feeling really attracted to you in that outfit.

He was slowly moving his hands around your waist, as he couldn't help but imagine all the different possibilities of what he could do if he just gave in to his desires. Sunghoon's eyes were starting to drift away, as he was feeling completely lost in his emotions right now. His hands were slowly creeping up towards your body, as he started to imagine touching you up, as he couldn't help but feel that he was losing control. His hands were starting to travel up and down your waist and hips, as he enjoyed feeling your body against his. He was continuing to press you against his body, as he just wanted feel you as close as possible. " Hmmmm I whined" .. " I love hearing you whine, it's so cute." Sunghoon exclaimed . " Sunghoon plzzzz" "Please what?" He smirked, as he wanted to make you ask him for what you wanted him to do to you. He wanted to hear your wishes right from your mouth, as it would make this even hotter than it already was.

" ughh why are you being such a stubborn ass you know i can have anyone else i want right ? You are not that speacial. I've boys trailing behind me " I said brattily. He suddenly narrowed his eyes as he heard you being bratty, as he didn't like it when you acted like that with him. He suddenly pushed you againstthe wall and started choking you slightly "Ah, you think I'm scared to lose you?" His tone suddenly switched to being much more serious, as he wasn't enjoying the bratty attitude you were showing him now. "We're different, you know that. I'm your main lover, the rest of them are just your toys."

" Sunghoon .. i stuttered " "Hm?"

He continued to smirk as he waited for you to call his name again, as he wanted to hear you say it again. " Plzzz I beg you.... I ...plz calm me down .... I said with teary eyes feeling overwhelmed with emotions . "You want me to calm you down do you?" He was just staring at you as he smiled, as he was enjoying being the one in control right now. He was just staring at you as you made this request. Your begging was starting to get him very worked up, as he was starting to get extremely turned on by this situation. " sunghoon plzzzz " i panted slightly. He kept on staring at you with a smirk, as he didn't feel like calming you down yet. "Aww... is the little girl panting already? I didn't expect you would start feeling this way so quickly.bMaybe I should do something a bit more provocative to you before I calm you down, don't you think?" Sunghoon said mocking me .

I looked at him annoyed but He smirked at your annoyance, as he saw that it was so easy to push your buttons right now. "Ah, so you are annoyed... oh poor little thing, can't handle the heat that we're building up between us right now . Maybe i should leave this to your other boys hmm ?"

" No ... plz sunghoon " I said nuzzling his neck . He shuddered just slightly, as you were nuzzling his neck and getting him all worked up.

"Mmm... is my little girl feeling impatient now? You're lucky I'm so merciful and patient with you. I could probably just give you what you want right now-" I whined and tugged his body closer in response ... plz sunghoonie don't tease. "Don't tease? Hmm... maybe I should take my time then with you." He said in a teasing tone, as he continued to put his body close to yours. He was not letting you have what you wanted, as this was just too fun to watch you beg for it.

"You're such a naughty girl. Do you really want me to make you wait longer? I guess we'll see how long you can handle it then, I think I can make you go crazy for me."

—♡cherrie🍒

© @cornenhapovs ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, alter, or repost my work.

♡ @chaconnenha @wonryllise @nishions @angel1kisses @heesbaby @021894s @teddyseong @enmi-land ♡

[shirecorn]

Your reindeer designs give me such childish joy I can't wait to see the rest. What's your process (aka any advice) for designing from scratch with something like just a name or concept?

Redbubble (buy reindeer swag) || Patreon (see all early!) || Ko-fi

See more free tutorials!

You can see my process unfold in real time by joining any tier of my patreon discord. Which doesn't even have to go through patreon! If you want, you can just pay me $20 and let you in for a year (and then lose track and probably keep you anyway)

Here's a preview using comet! (nevermind the preview thing I wrote you a whole lecture lol)

initial sketches in 2021:

Revisited in 2022 and 2023

I was constantly asking which design was the weakest, why, and how to fix it. Whenever I tested without the magical comet behind it, people could only guess who comet was by process of elimination.

I didn't want to rely on throwing icons into the design. I wanted each one to communicate through shape and silhouette alone. It would be like drawing a little cherub with a bow and arrow floating along with cupid. If you have to include a nametag to communicate, your design can be improved.

So I tried a few different strategies to say "comet" before I realized I could twist the antlers into any shape I wanted. I was worried I would have to discard the drawing and restart from scratch! Which is what I did for rudolph about 6 times before I had a breakthrough.

Then I gave my patrons a brief lesson in antlers to explain where and why I was placing the tines. When I stray from the caribou structure, I do so knowingly in order to achieve something that cannot be achieved within the caribou shape, like dancer's tutu. Know the rules before you break them. My goal is to make animal nerds (myself chief among them) happy when they see species-specific anatomy instead of cop outs.

I tried a few things before figuring out antlers could become comet

Another thing that often caribou have is an unsymmetrical "spork" that comes forward off only one antler. I figured this out by looking at hundreds of reindeer pictures and saving them to my reference folder. A few of my designs have this, that's what the little spiral is in the final comet antler design.

When I put comet in my lineup, I realized that the antlers I drew were way more stylized, chunky, and "tribal" than the others. I had already changed the proportions on one of my designs to match, so then I had to hack away at the basic comet rack to make it look natural.

I already knew that comet's colors would be easy because a basic reindeer already Has the big comet on the shoulder. But here's a peak at all the reindeer images I posted for my patrons to look at.

As you can see below, I chose reindeer markings for all my designs instead of other deer or animals. Even vixen is tied to actually possible reindeer patterns rather than copy-pasting a fox. Almost all of my designs have light-colored anklets on dark colored legs, which is very common with caribou of any color. This is the sort of thing no one tells you; you have to observe it yourself.

Ft cupid's early design! I was continually testing out my reindeer silhouettes and colors on new people, taking their feedback, and fixing what wasn't clicking.

I know I could have made vixen sexy and curvy to play into a recognizable trope, but I really wanted them to be scary and fox-like. Sometimes you gotta do what you want and not what you think will appeal to audiences. Reindeer Days is a purposeful exercise in audience resonance. Most of my art is 100% me and what I feel like doing with no regards to anyone else. So it was a fun challenge!

My patrons also got to see me making fun of corporate designs for recognizably/cliches at the expense of literally anything good

One of these is going to get a lot more "that must be vixen!" results from people who aren't constantly thinking about animal colors, markings, hunting strategies, and teeth.

And one rocks.

Vixen changed the least from the initial 2021 concept!

A Vixen is a female fox. In english slang, it means a cunning, fierce human woman, and sometimes sexually attractive or promiscuous. Quite often an insult to someone because she won't date you!

But to me, a vixen is an animal. A predator.

When designing to reference something, I like to hit it at multiple angles, referencing obscure trivia about something to delight and educate. This is done by researching a topic deeply, far below surface level and beyond what you think you need to make your design. Or in my case its just knowing a bunch of animal trivia already.

After researching/dredging your knowledge, sit there and Think. Don't draw anything. Come up with several ideas and then throw them all in at once for the ultimate trivia design.

Trivia about red foxes:

They have Long bushy tails

They have teeth that include large sharp canines, flat incisors, triangular premolars, and chunky molars with points on them that slide scissor-like with the molars above to cut meat via chewing

They hunt rodents in burrows under the snow by jumping into the air, arcing, and slamming down with their face through the snow

They are orange

They have a dark vertical stripe on their snout

They have black legs, with the backs and bottoms being orange

Translated into the design:

Pose based on a fox jumping, about to land in the snow

Antlers twisted to resemble teeth

Long (for a reindeer) bushy tail

black mark on snout

Some adjustment to the pose to be at the top of the arc and flow better.

Tinkering with the design to make it recognizable but not 100% copypasta fox

I was finally happy with a design that absolutely showed "fox" while still being creative and plausibly caribou shaped. This would absolutely communicate who it is! I thought!

The most obvious one of the bunch! After all, everyone knows what a vixen is!

Nope! No they do not

Want to be part of the design process, help me with WIPs months before everyone else, see exclusive doodles every day, and join a funky little community?

(you also get to see photos of my dog)

Connect your discord to your patreon and join any tier to automatically get added to the server. Not a fan of patreon or monthly subscriptions? message me here, on ko-fi, or via email (shirecorn.art@ gmail.com) and ask if you can pay $20 to get put in the server for at least a year and longer if we work it out later!

This was supposed to be a preview to get you to pay me but instead I wrote an entire lecture for free because I can't help myself.

Want to thank me for the free info? Tag me when you use what you learned! Comment and give feedback! If I could pay rent with attention I would never need anything else in life.

You can also thank me by tipping my ko-fi! I use it to buy pens since I die if I have caffeine. But could you imagine??

[anghraine]

thatinsufferableb-st-rd said:

@anghraine so i have read the books multiple times and am an avid fan of the movies. I enjoy both for what they are. I think the main difference is that Peter Jackson was very open about what they chose to cut and why from anything I've ever seen. They even have Sam give a nod to the book readers by saying "by rights we shouldn't even be here". No I'm not happy about what they did with Faramir and Glorfindel got jipped, and I would have lover to have seen Elronds sons but at the end of the day there were acknowledgments of what and why. Rings of Power to me has always come off as hiding from any criticism by using the shield of "well if you don't like it it's because you don't like POCs in it". To which I genuinely could not give a fuck less, like there are so many branches of elves that went different ways so that could make sense within what Tolkein established. But don't hide behind that when your writing is just "Sauron is evil. We know. And we know she knows. But we have to make it seem like she's the only one who Has A Clue so we must all try to shoo her off to make a plotline"

@lesbiansforboromir has already correctly and politely pointed out that you are doing the very thing we were criticizing in that post—intruding on ROP fan discussion to unfavorably contrast the show to the Peter Jackson films, while also applying a degree of scrutiny to ROP that the Jackson films are rarely subject to in a remotely comparable way and could not bear. Frankly, @lesbiansforboromir is nicer and more restrained than I am about this, but you chose to tag me as well, so I'll also respond.

We (lesbiansforboromir and I) were talking about being excited about costuming in S2 of ROP and disliking the fandom meltdowns over ROP's costuming looking (somewhat) different from the films' aesthetic. Since it had already come up in their discussion, I added that I'm not convinced by the anti-ROP contingent framing their seething hatred of the costuming and design as just caring so much about fidelity to Tolkien's vision. I pointed out that Tolkien fandom broadly cares far more about their preferred, film-influenced aesthetics than Tolkien's actual descriptions and gave some specific examples of this.

There's been a lot of talk, for instance, about how the universally long, flowing hair for Elves preferred by the fandom and used in the films is actually totally canon according to Tolkien even if it's rarely mentioned in LOTR proper. This is inaccurate. Galadriel's brother Aegnor is typically depicted in the fandom/film-preferred style rather than per Tolkien's description of his hair as "strong and stiff, rising upon his head like flames" (indeed, in general neither Aegnor nor anyone else is ever depicted this way, and this description rarely shows up in the lists of "no it's about ethics in adaptation" Tolkien hair quotes).

Tolkien repeatedly describes Elvish, peredhel, and Dúnadan women as wearing their hair bound up in braided coiffures with jeweled hair pieces/nets rather than loose and flowing à la the films and the fandom. Nobody cares, any more than they care about Tolkien's description of Arwen's clothing as soft, grey, and noticeably devoid of ornamentation apart from a belt and netted cap (i.e. the opposite of her highly elaborate film costuming and typically loose, unbound, uncovered hair in the films and most illustrations).

Meanwhile, my fave Faramir's hair is nowhere near long enough in the films or most art to mingle with Éowyn's as Tolkien describes. It's usually also depicted as blond, reddish, or brown rather than black as in the book; in Tolkien's LOTR, all described Gondorians have dark or black hair, with the only difference in coloring being that some Gondorians are dark-skinned and some are pale. Again, almost nobody in the fandom cares about this when they're going on about costume design and casting to reflect Tolkien's vision, and male Gondorians are overwhelmingly depicted with short or shoulder-length hair in the films and in Tolkien illustrations.

Popular depictions of Gondor, including the Gondor of the films, very rarely reflect Tolkien's description of Gondor's aesthetic as similar to ancient Egypt, the Byzantine Empire, and the Roman Empire. Film Gondor has, at most, extremely vague allusions to Byzantine architecture amidst the general and deliberate westernization of Gondor's design—as just one example among many, Tolkien's explicitly Egyptian-based design for the royal crown of Gondor is converted to a generically western European-style crown in the films and overwhelmingly in the fandom.

I then pointed out that it's been very noticeable that ROP haters tend to have a powerful double standard wrt fidelity when it comes to the Jackson films. For over 20 years, most film fans have been constitutionally incapable of tolerating even slight criticism of the films without jumping in to defend their greatness and condescendingly explain the most basic elements of adaptation. (Yes, we know film is not the same medium as text, we know changes are part of adaptation to another medium, we all know that, we all know that a word-for-word adaptation would suck and never be made, this is not new information and does not make the PJ films' every choice a good one.) Yet most film LOTR fans who vocally despise ROP display none of the charity towards ROP that they demand for the films (demand even from someone like Christopher Tolkien, a dead man the entire fandom is deeply indebted to, whose dislike of the films still leads to regular attacks on his character from Jackson film stans).

This hypercritical yet hyperdefensive tendency in the fandom is neatly illustrated by the fact that you responded to a conversation about the double standards in evaluations of ROP's costuming vs the films' to go on about how ROP is objectively bad for reasons entirely unrelated to costuming, how you're totally not racist (something nobody was talking about), and to quote you directly, "Like the show was just Bad." Truly, an incisive critique. Meanwhile, your concessions with regard to the Jackson films are mainly about extremely minor and defensible omissions like removing Glorfindel and the sons of Elrond rather than the serious and fundamental problems that lesbiansforboromir and I have with them, or even the ways they do pretty much the exact same things you're lambasting ROP for.

I mean, if we're going to talk about action hero Elves in ROP vs the Jackson films, what about the action hero-ification of Legolas in the films? He was described by Tolkien himself as the Fellowship member who accomplished the least, so super badass battle-skateboarding Legolas hardly represents fidelity to Tolkien's vision. Why should that get a pass while film-stanning ROP haters seethe about ROP!Galadriel being too special, even though Tolkien described her as one of the most special Elves to ever live and specifically as remarkably athletic and insightful?

Meanwhile, film Gimli is reduced to comic relief, the only dwarves taken seriously are conventionally hot ones in The Hobbit films, and Frodo's expressions of strength and fortitude are consistently removed to glorify other characters. Film Gondorians were deliberately designed to seem like useless tin soldiers (which they are in the films, as well as whiter and blonder than Tolkien wrote them) rather than the physically imposing and highly effective fighting force of the book. ROP imagining Elvish rituals upon approaching Valinor that aren't based in Tolkien canon but don't directly conflict with it is absolutely trivial compared to the films' handling of Denethor and Faramir.

The point is not that you, personally, are not allowed to like the films or dislike ROP despite all this. Many people do love the films, including most of my followers. They do have their strengths, though they are extremely racist and few film fans will acknowledge this without soft-pedaling it in some way (esp, since you brought it up, given the context of the truly unhinged degree of racism that has accompanied much of the broader discourse around ROP).

The point is that film fans who hate ROP are constantly showing up in our conversations to be "well actually ROP is just objectively bad, unlike the films, because the show has failings that are also in the films but it's totally different there because of the contents of Peter Jackson's soul" or whatever. The point is the absolutely glaring and obnoxiously hypocritical double standard of defensiveness about the films and obsessive nitpicking of ROP that leads to ROP haters continually going on rants to ROP fans that are unwelcome, uninvited, and usually (as in this case) irrelevant to what was even being discussed.