#hope that made sense!! I had a great time writing these and drawing these sketches of her sjkwkskf so thanks for sending this <3

[ineed-to-sleep]

7 + 12 + 26!

7. What circumstances led to your tav becoming their class/subclass?

Her entire life has led up to being a rogue/thief, basically! She was a little kleptomaniac and had a knack for being a menace from a very young age. She just *had* to get her grubby little hands on everything and if something of yours caught her eye, it was no longer yours.

As a kid she spent a lot of time on her own, mostly because her caretaker(her uncle) wasn't... *around* that much. He would often leave her with enough to fulfill her basic needs and go out on hunting trips for several days. She was scared at first to be all alone, but after some time getting used to it, the boredom started settling in. Walking around the house and playing with old trinkets in her uncle's attic wasn't cutting it anymore, she needed some action in her life, and she decided to make that everyone else's problem 👍🏻 She went out into the nearby town, made some friends, made some enemies, and discovered her passion for taking things that don't belong to her, invading spaces where she's not supposed to be, and telling people the most dogshit lies to get herself out of trouble. She was a natural.

The town she lived by was West Harbor, in Merdelain, and she ended up expanding on her skillset by doing the most insane thing a child growing up in the Mere can do- she went out into the swamp. By herself. Several times. She explored nasty lizardfolk caves and Illefarnian ruins alike. How she survived is honestly a wonder, but she did, and learned to handle herself in difficult terrain and both create and disarm mechanical and magical traps, as well as learned a few magic tricks on her own. This was of course only the start of her rogueing career- she had another 40 years ahead of her to develop that skillset- but I'd say she was off to a pretty good start.

Putting the rest under a readmore bc this is getting a little long snjsjsjdk

12. What opinion does your tav have about the Gods?

She would like to have a word with them. She's not mad ok she just wants to talk.

So, you know how I mentioned it's a wonder she survived in the swamp? It was mostly a little bit of skill and a whole lot of luck, but in the beginning, she had a little leg up because of the blessing of a certain goddess.

You see, most wilderness is protected by Mielikki, primarily goddess of the forest but patron of all rangers, regardless of the terrain they choose to traverse. Nawen's uncle was a favored of Mielikki and she was both confused and fascinated by his religious practices. She would watch him pray, mimick him and learn the words to the prayer like a song. She took one of the symbols of the goddess he had in his altar, tied it to a cord and wore it like an amulet, just like he did. Traversing the swamp, there were times where she felt magic emanating from it, and a sudden streak of luck whenever she prayed. She believed it was the goddess, somehow, choosing to help her. And for that she was grateful, she had a positive view of the Gods.

That didn't last long though, because as she grew up and moved into the city, delving into its criminal underground, she felt the magic slip and the presence of the goddess fade. It's been over 20 years since she hasn't felt any sort of divine intervention and hasn't been able to rely on another God since. She felt abandoned by her, loved and then cast out like an old toy, and she knows it's probably because of her life choices, but she still feels bitter about it. She believes the Gods don't truly care for anyone and are only concerned with whatever suits their whims- and sure, she can see how that sounds awfully similar to her own attitude and it would be hypocritical to judge them based on that, but she still thinks it's stupid to idolize, follow and dedicate your life to someone like that.

26. Does your tav have a treasured item with them? If yes, what is it and why is it special?

Yeah, she still carries that symbol of Mielikki around ajajdjksk for all of her cynicism towards the Gods, she still feels wrong about throwing it away and in some little part of herself deeeeep deep inside, hopes that Mielikki will look at her again and show her that she cares. She doesn't wear it as an amulet anymore though and just has it usually in a pocket or kept among her things in her camp chest.

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

✧˚ · .Painting their portrait ✧˚ · .

Note: I hope everyone is doing well 💖 I hope you will enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it 💖 If you want to commission me check my ko-fi and pinned post for prices. Thank you!

When he found out about your talent, he immediately bought you the most expensive equipment. Whether you like to paint on a canvas or on a graphic tablet, he will buy you only the best products. 

He's very old-fashioned and wants a classic portrait. He'll arrange a proper setting to fit his taste. With a fireplace in the background, an expensive suit, and some other decoration that screams old money, he’ll sit with his legs crossed in his comfy chair while he looks at you. A soft smile would appear on his face, especially when you two locked eyes. You thought about painting that lovely smile and contouring those sweet dimples, but you know him better and chose to leave a stoic expression on his face. His soft side is for your eyes only. 

He won’t mind sitting for hours because he'll have the greatest company. You two will gossip about the hottest tea at work, talk about his latest projects, and besides that, he'll have his romantic moments when he tells you how much he cherishes you. 

The final result leaves him in awe.

"Darling, this is astonishing." He said, amber eyes studying every inch of the canvas and feeling an immense sense of pride washing over him. He couldn't take his eyes off your masterpiece.

"I knew you had it in you," he began after a short period of total silence. "Yet you managed to exceed my expectations."

You breathe a sigh of relief. Even if he was your boyfriend, it was hard to please him. He didn't coddle you, so when he praised you, you knew it was real. 

He will hang that portrait with pride in his office, and he’ll tell everyone with pride that his partner made the incredible art.

With the corner of his eye, he noticed how you kept shifting your gaze from your notebook to him. Sometimes you'd stare longer at him, and sometimes your hand would go faster and then slower as if you were trying to remember something. Sometimes, you would scratch your head with the pencil and sighed in frustration. 

Whatever you were doodling, it wasn't coming along as you wanted.

Not being able to control his curiosity anymore, he slowly approached your desk. 

"Whatcha doing there?" he asked, looking over your shoulder, directly in the notebook. A wide smile appeared shortly. 

You didn't hide the page in time, and Leon saw the sketches with his face. You drew him from three different angles. Even if you were in a hurry, you still captured his soft features—his genuine smile and his gentle gaze.

"I- uh-I..." you fumbled, hands going in random directions over the paper.

"You don't have to hide it. I think it looks good." He smirked and went back to his desk. 

"Thanks. Listen, I was taking a break, and I felt a bit of inspiration coming in-"

"You don't have to excuse yourself." He chucked and turned to face you. In that moment, you saw a faint blush on his cheeks. "I think it looks great, given how fast you draw."

"And given how much you fidget,"

He chuckled. 

"Seriously, man, lay off that coffee." 

You both laughed, making some people turn their attention to you out of curiosity. A quick glance around, and you quiet down a bit. 

"If you want to finish, I'll try my best to stand still." 

"I would appreciate that." 

You both smiled at each other. Time went by fast, and by the time you finished, the office was empty. None of you felt the time passing by as you got to know each other better. Leon loved his portraits and "stole" your notebook. 

He loved everything you did. Every gesture, every tic, everything was just perfect for him. 

What he cherished most was your talent when it came to art. Everything you touched turned into a masterpiece, something so beautiful that it can’t be described by a simple man. So, when you wanted to paint him, he looked at you in shock. 

"Me?" 

"Yes, you." 

"Why?" he chuckled. 

"Because I want to. And because I want an excuse to stare at your picture for hours while you are away on missions." 

He pulled you closer and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

"Alright. Make sure to highlight my good side." 

"As if you have a bad one." 

Despite loving how affectionate and supportive you were with him, he never understood why. He viewed himself as a rough, cranky man who got on everyone's nerve. For short, an asshole. But to you, he wasn't like that. Despite the hardships in his life, he still maintained a soft gaze. 

Naturally, he wondered why you wanted him to be part of your beautiful portfolio. And more importantly, did he deserve to be part of it?

For the next couple of days, he waited for you to finish. He would peek in your room to see the progress, but you didn't let him. You wanted to surprise him.

When he came back from his mission, arriving in your comfy apartment, you shoved your art in front of his face. 

"Do you like it?" you asked excitedly.

He reluctantly took the canvas and stared at it for a few seconds. It's not that he didn't like it. It's the fact that he didn't recognize himself. His scars weren’t so prominent, his eyes weren't so full of sadness and anger, and his lips were curved in a soft smile. His features were softer, friendlier, even. 

“This… I know it’s me, but it feels like I’m looking at a stranger.”

"Why do you say that?”

“It feels like you retouched my face.”

“Hmm, no, this is how you look in real life. You're not as tough-looking as you think."

He loves it regardless, and he loves you even more. 

His muse in this life was you. Every time he looked at you, every time he saw your pretty face, his mood would lighten up in a heartbeat. A catastrophe at the moment would turn into something insignificant, something he could overcome with ease.

What he loved most about you was your talent. He was amazed at the beautiful things you could create with your hands, unlike him. He found refuge in your art, staring at your finished and unfinished projects for hours.

"Mi dulzura, what masterpieces are you creating?"

"Thank you, mi rey. Wanna be part of them?"

He smiled. He approached you with light footsteps, rubbing your shoulders gently when he reached your back.

"I'd be honoured."

He was thrilled. Being fascinated by your talent, he wanted to ask you long ago, but he didn't want to overcrowd you as you had many projects and clients. He didn't want to put more pressure. He simply told you that he doesn't want anything fancy.

He waited every day for you to finish, barely containing himself from asking dozens of questions. You had to kick him out multiple times from your room because you wanted to surprise him.

"Luis," you called out, "it's done!"

He came in a hurry, and as expected, he loved the result. He wouldn't stop praising you for creating another masterpiece.

"This is...I have no words. It's simply stunning."

"Well, you are stunning," you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I guess I really am your Prince Charming."

You chuckled and were ready to say something, but he caught your lips in a quick, gentle kiss.

From that moment on, he becomes your one and only muse. You'd paint him in various poses and various clothes, sometimes with you as well. He would sit near you, watching you do your magic without saying a word. He loves and respects what you do a lot. 

[vivalarevolution]

𝓢𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓸𝓷 𝓞𝓯 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓲𝓽𝓬𝓱

Xavier Thorpe x Witch Reader

Request: „Hi! I was wondering if you could write a Xavier Thorpe x fem. reader where the reader is a new student at nevermore and sits next to Xavier in Mrs. Thornhills class and he tries to impress her with his powers (like in the scene where he made the spider come to life)‟

A/N: Request from anon. I changed one thing about the reader skills/ powers. It's not my best work but as always I hope you all still gonna like it. 

English is not my native language so I am sorry for any mistakes.

She felt unwanted eyes on her, again.

However, despite the fact that the situation repeated itself since she set foot in a new school, each time she chose to ignore it. She knew who the irises following her every move belonged to anyway, so she quickened her pace to disappear from their radar, as she had done many times before.

When she found a secluded corner, she leaned against it, sighing. She'd only been here a week and she'd had enough.

Her father told her about possibilities and freedom, oh how easily she was outsmarted by him. Now she was stuck in a strange place, far from home, in a school for "people like her". However, she soon found out that this term was not entirely true.

Nevermore Academy was supposed to be something of a safe oasis for children who were extraordinary, in the worst sense of the word. But Y/n quickly noticed that the teenagers weren't much different from normal people, well, except for the hidden talents they'd inherited. Girl was one of them. 

Being the ancestor of one of Salem's oldest witches had its advantages and disadvantages, although she saw more negatives than positives. That's why she hid her abilities.

-Y/n! - girl's voice called her.

The teenager closed her eyes, only to open them after a moment and turn around to look at the well-known blonde.

-Enid -replied the witch, tilting her head gently to the side, in a silent act announcing that she ,could continue.

-I was looking for you- she replied, smile did not come out of her face - Botany classes will start soon, and you are hiding.

Y/n sometimes wondered how a person could be so happy and carefree. But she was never able to come up with a satisfactory answer.

-Then it's better that they don't wait for us - she said with a slight, almost imperceptible smile, going with the werewolf to class.

Her steps, although slow, still led her to her goal at a much faster pace than she would like. Entering the great conservatory, without stopping, she went to the designated place.

Xavier was already sitting in his seat, lost in his notebook, sketching something Y/n couldn't see. Only when she sat next to him in the field of vision appeared the image of a black spider. Before the boy could see that she was looking his way, her head quickly turned to the desk, making it look like he was looking at her, not the other way around.

It might sound strange, even scary, but the brunette liked to look at her, especially when the teenager was so close to him. Every detail on her face was much clearer then. Her thick and long eyelashes, behind which beautiful irises were hidden, full lips or the flash of her thick hair, which seemed to be soft as silk from a distance. Xavier noticed all this, and day by day he became more and more addicted.

Before he knew it, he was smitten with her, and as if sensing it, she began to run away from him. Each step she took was further away from him, which meant that he was never able to catch her, or talk to her, even for a moment.

When Y/n's eyes finally rested on him, he responded by pushing the notebook towards her. Her brow furrowed in consternation, and he merely smiled at her, extending his hand to hover over the drawing. After a while, the animal came out of the paper, leaving only a gray halo behind. The arthropod moved a few steps. The witch did not let him out of her sight.

-I doubt Y/n will be impressed by your tricks, Mr. Thorpe - said Mrs. Thornhill unexpectedly, when she came to class.

-Admit that you're a little impressed - the green-eyed boy muttered.

The girl didn't answer for a long moment, too focused on the spider. Shivers involuntarily passed over her body and before she could've said something, the animated drawing burst into flames. Most of the students looked at her with a mixture of admiration and surprise, but she didn't care. Holding her hands, she occasionally ran her long fingernails over the rings to distract herself from the outside world.

Xavier cursed under his breath, he thought he would impress her, but all he did was make her hide even more.

It was nighttime when Y/n received an unexpected message.

With the end of class, she locked herself in her room, content to finally be able to breathe fully. Dressed and refreshed, she spent time on the floor, drowning in the books of witchcraft that she read several times before. The sound of music filled the room as well as the sound of her own voice as she hummed along with the band's lead singer.

Only a quiet but strong blow pulled her out of her bubble.

Standing up, she walked over to a large, tall window. At first glance, everything seemed normal, but when her eyes began to wander, a black cat appeared in the field of her vision, or rather its sketch.

The teenager sighed and opened the window. Curious about the explanations. There was a card in the animal's mouth and an invitation on the paper.

-Meet me at nine o'clock by the fountain - she recited, frowning slightly in thought ,knowing exactly who the sender was.

Thinking, she stared at the landscape outside the window, then she shifted her irises to the cat, who was still waiting, sitting on the windowsill. Involuntarily, she raised her hand and stroked his ear, as if hoping that it would feel something, even though it was only a drawing.

Before she could think carefully about her decision, her legs led her towards the exit. Right underneath the stone construction.

Xavier was already waiting for her. Her school uniform had been replaced with a long-sleeved black mid-thigh dress and leather boots. The boy didn't know what to think, it was the first time he saw the teenage witch in something else, in something close to her comfort zone.

-You really came - he remarked, not hiding the surprise in his voice.

-I really came - she replied, clasping her hands behind her - Your form of invitation was quite interesting. I was wondering if you matched the cat to my species or if it was just a coincidence.

-Yes...I mean no - brunette tangled up in words, pushing himself away from the fountain to approach Y/n - Your reaction to my previous drawing got me thinking. I preferred to create something that you should like this time.

-I'm just not a fan of small, crawling creatures. But I appreciate your gesture - she said honestly, which made Xavier smile.

-I'm glad to hear that - he replied, looking at the girl.

-What is the reason for your invitation? - she asked suddenly.

-I wanted to apologize. I guess you didn't want to show off your abilities - he remarked, scratching the back of his neck.

The gaze of the teenager, who was directed at the fountain near them, moved to the green-eyed boy.

-You have no reason to apologize - she announced -It was my instinct that worked the way it did - she added before taking a few steps back so she could turn freely and head back to the dorm.

-Wait! - Thorpe called her, grabbing her wrist, and she stopped, looking at him with furrowed brows -Would you like to go for a walk?- he asked with a trace of hope in his voice.

The girl shifted her gaze to the building behind her, then back to the tall teenager in front of her, who was awaiting for her response. Y/n nodded with a slight smile.

-I would love to - she said, nodding imperceptibly in confirmation.

The two of them moved forward. The witch put all her trust in the hands of Xavier, who led them to a place known only to him. Her heart was beating hard from the adrenaline, and surprisingly, she welcomed it. She hadn't had so much fun in a long time, even if it was just sneaking through school property.

Eventually they came to something that looked like a shed. Y/n involuntarily approached the body of her companion, looking curiously at the wooden building. When the brunette turned his head to check the girl's condition, he found her close to him, closer than he expected. Satisfied, he lowered his head to be level with her ear.

-This is my studio - he confessed, as if proud of this fact - I cleaned it, so Weems let me use it.

-We are alone - the girl noticed, approaching his face, which involuntarily covered with a blush - You don't have to whisper - she added, then moved away, walking towards the entrance.

Thorpe followed her with his eyes until she had disappeared through the door, then he moved on, quickening his pace so that the girl wouldn't wait. When he entered, Y/n looked around intrigued, but kept her hands to herself, watching from a distance.

-You have talent - she admitted after a long moment.

-Thanks - he said, following her like a shadow. -This is my safe space. Art makes me relax - he added, standing behind her as she paused at another of the many paintings.

-It must be nice to have your own sanctuary - the teenager said - I often dream of something like this, that wouldn't be my dorm room. Life at Nevermore can be...overwhelming - she confessed, rubbing her hands together in comfort.

-Really?- he asked, eager to hear more, happy to finally be able to talk to the object of his interest.

-Yhm- muttered the witch -That's quite an interesting paradox. An outcast feels like an outcast in a school for outcasts - she noticed, looking at him out of the corner of her eye, the boy made her feel surprisingly better, surprisingly calmer.

-You can always talk to me if you want - Xavier said, shrugging -I don't bite.

-I appreciate it - she replied, not sure what else to add.

When silence fell between the two, Y/n realized how close they were, how intimate the situation seemed, and the brunette slowly began to think the same, his green eyes not even for a moment stopping looking at the face in front of him.

Her eyes wandered over the boy's face, trying to find a starting point. Her slightly parted lips as well as the smell of lavender and gooseberry did not help Thorpe concentrate. Only the girl's frown woke him up from his trance.

Following her gaze, the teenager met an image, but not just any image. The canvas depicted a girl sitting on one of the stone benches, lost in thought, her face calm and her eyes distant. There was a sheet next to the easel, which must have been moved by a gust of wind when Y/n stepped inside.

-It's...me - she whispered in shock, walking towards her likeness.

-The first day, I couldn't forget you. So I started painting - he tried to explain, keeping his voice stoic -You surrounded yourself with this mysterious aura that drew me in even more. You were different from the rest...I talk nonsense - he muttered, closing his eyes.

The girl turned to face Xavier. Then , she unexpectedly put her hand around him, standing on her fingers to kiss the corner of his mouth.

-I quite like your nonsense - she confessed ,almost brushing his lips because of the closeness of their faces.

Xavier took her confession as a signal to action. Placing his hands on the witch's waist, he slowly brushed her lips, and seeing no objection, he did it again, and again, and again.

They said romance was dead and Y/n had to agree. But the electrifying touch of the boy's hand, the warmth of his lips, and the addictive scent that surrounded him, made her not disappointed by the death of romanticism. She preferred the version where she could’ve indulge her feelings without having to play cat and mouse.

And now that she had tasted the forbidden fruit, she was not going to stop. 

Neither did he.

[deryuj]

Follow the curves

You wish you could focus on your case but truth be told, Connor is far too distracting.

(Or Connor is helping you with your case while you sketch him in your notebook instead)

Rating: General audience

Ship: Connor x gn!reader

I started my summer job and realized I have a lot of free time so I actually wrote a fanfic because I was bored. Enjoy!

p.s. Last time i wrote a fanfic was in 2017 and english isn't my first language, lol.

It's been three hours since you stepped your foot into the squeaky clean department. Also, it's been two hours and fifty-five minutes (minus ten minutes you spent making yourself a coffee and five minutes you took for a bathroom break, which was an excuse to just get up from your workspace and do something different) since you made yourself comfortable by your desk and started working again with the weird writings and drawings you found last night at the apartment, left by what you suspected was a deviant. Looking at the same set of lines for hours turned them into uncomprehensive scribbles and doodles at this point so you couldn't make anything out of them anyway. You needed to do something else rather than stare absent-mindedly at the same page for the next five hours until your shift is done.

You wish you could say you were going in circles with this investigation but honestly, there was no circle you could even walk in in the first place.

How frustrating.

With a soft sigh, you turned your gaze to your right where Connor sat way before you even arrived, his blue LED shining and flickering as his brown eyes stayed glued to the screen. It was funny that for an android he insisted to use computers to scroll through information like the rest of the DPD did. He didn't have to, it was probably more time-consuming and less efficient to do so, but somehow it was so endearing that he makes sure to act as human as possible and blend with the rest of his coworkers.

You haven't really spoken to him today though, he was assigned to you strictly because of the notes you discovered, it was the longest you have been in his presence, which is a bummer. Usually, you would see him casually follow Hank like a puppy, hand folded behind him, long legs easily matching his anger, quick steps, and a soft smile that was always plastered on his face. You weren't sure if he was designed to always smile or chose to do so, but you decided to believe that he wants it that way. Now though you could see that soft smile and adorable chocolate cowlick up close with him working mere centimeters away from you and you couldn't help but smile yourself.

Cyberlife sure did a great job designing him.

Connor was the newest addition to the team, assigned to help the lieutenant in his cases, which definitely did not make him happy since he oh so loved his broody and lone wolf reputation. You were pleased though, you never had a chance to work with an android (and you kinda never exactly did until now). You liked Connor, maybe more than you'd like to admit, and you found yourself doubting the whole 'friendship' if you could even call it that. Yes, he was an android and he definitely wasn't programmed to like everyone (based on his previous interactions with Gavin) but somehow you found yourself hoping that after all the small conversations you shared he, at least, considered you a friend because he liked you, not because his program told him so. Were you even making sense at this point?

You let out a soft sigh, reaching out to grab a half-empty cup of stale coffee before your eyes glided back to working Connor. He hasn't moved from his stiff position since morning, his warm eyes fixated on the computer screen, subtle nose twitches, jaw tightened, smooth hand gripping the notes you wrote down yesterday as he silently analyzed the same set of information written in your handwriting over and over again before looking up at the computer screen, trying to find some kind of clue on what exactly the deviant was trying to write down or show.

As if it was that easy to understand the maniacal scribbles they left behind before running away.

He looked so focused, so eager to prove himself and his skills to everyone that he completely shut himself off from the whole department and new information from his surroundings for now so nothing will take him out of the process of decoding the messages. You were almost curious if by any chance he knows you're watching him so shamelessly or if he even realized that you joined him by your desk to help almost three hours ago.

He was cute, really cute, and in some way you felt a little weird with choosing this word to describe a grown man, or more specifically someone designed to hunt down deviants and do it without any hesitation.

You'd rather keep your observations to yourself rather than get embarrassed though that's what you told yourself with your inner voice.

You comfortably leaned against your palm, letting your gaze dance across all the soft and sharp edges of his profile. His small, pretty nose, freckled artificial skin, pursed, plush lips, and extremely long lashes. Someone put all these details down into this single design just to make fun of you and your silly little crush on an android, that you were almost sure has no algorithm that could by any chance make him like you back. It was stupid, really, but God was he too pretty to not like.

Never mind your earlier praises, you hated Cyberlife for this design.

You felt your cheeks heat up just from thinking about this, definitely not your smartest thought of the day.

You tilted your head to the side, your hair moving with your move as you glanced at him from a slightly different angle. Still pretty. Dang.

One line, second line, join these two with another line.

Without thinking much your hand danced across your handy notebook, your pen leaving gentle lines and curves as you tried to memorize his pretty features. You weren't an amazing artist but you could at least make it resemble him. That's all you needed to do. You needed to convey his pretty profile somewhere where it won't disappear, somewhere you'll be able to look at whenever you'd feel like it, and not when Hank would get up from his desk to go to your communal kitchen with his partner in hand.

You poked the thin paper with the tip of your pen, spreading small, inked dots across his sketched cheek, dragged curled lines from his eye down to his cheek to mimic his long curtain of eyelashes, and made sure that the curve of his lips was the curviest, kissable line you ever drew on paper.

Your silly attempts caused you to let out a quiet snort. I mean the sketch wasn't bad… it's just that you finally caught up with what you were doing that caused you to realize that you were acting like a lovestruck teen if not worse than that.

Stupid- said your more sober side.

You still proudly looked down at the small sketch of Connor that popped up in the corner of your notebook, it was no longer accurate though since the model decided to finally rise his honey-filled eyes away from the screen and face you instead, clearly curious about what made you laugh during a long, boring investigation.

"What's wrong detective?" Your eyes snapped back up at his seeking expression, right in the middle of him tilting his head to the side as he would usually do whenever asking a question and being actually curious about it.

Now what?

"Ah" passed your lips before you could catch yourself. What exactly are you going to tell him and make it sound not weird?

"You draw a lot?" He took your silence as an answer and leaned in to trail his eyes along all the sketched lines, his lips curling into a soft smile to your dismay, a soft whir erupting from his chest.

You silently flipped your notebook to the next page, lips pursed as you turned your face away from him to hopefully regain your ability to say something smart rather than babble while looking at his handsome face. And yet he still watched you, or more like observed you, analyzing your mouth twitch, gaze shift, and muscle tense. Clearly, he was getting what we would call 'nervous' at his seemingly failed attempt at making a small talk and you couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

"Sometimes, helps me think or get myself to reboot" He could somehow understand the concept, maybe because you used a techy word he had some experience with.

He hummed in response, shifting comfortably in his seat, almost like he could feel his muscles sore from staying in one position, and looked down at the blank page, as if the drawing was still there and he was still taking in every single stroke of your pen.

"You are quite talented" He seemed honest, maybe there was a hint of something else, and you couldn't help but chuckle. There was something so innocent behind his words, he almost sounded excited to face a new quirk humans had.

He always liked those. The quirks. Things that made people unique and so interesting.

"I guess once I retire I'll move out somewhere quiet and spend the rest of my life painting landscapes" You mumbled sarcastically, your eyes rolling as you tried to get Connor off his path to compliment you more. He would always be painfully nice to get people to like him and accept him in the department. It worked, sure but you don't need him to get you flustered at work where people can see. Especially where that asshole Gavin can see and use it to make you annoyed.

He let out another soft, vibrating hum at your small joke, leaning down to comfortably lean against his smooth hand. He was thinking, processing and rinsing your words to find a suitable answer to your lighthearted response and hopefully match your tone.

"That sounds nice, I'm glad that for now, I can enjoy your work here at the department." He replied and you let your lips form a smile at his response. I mean you could interpret it as if he wanted to work with you more. You wouldn't complain, your work quality would suffer though. Or maybe you're looking too hard into it.

"Have you tried drawing Hank before?" You let out a sharp exhale from your mouth, your laugh stuck somewhere in your throat, safe from being let out to the world. You weren't sure if it was a joke or not, if it was it was funny, if it wasn't then it was cute but still, you don't want him to feel bad for laughing at him.

Connor didn't mind, in return, his plushy lips quirked up into a bigger smile, doe eyes narrowing as the smile finally reached them while he happily watched you light up after working with papers.

"Don't know, I guess I'll ask him if he wants to model, sounds like a cute date" You wanted to continue the banter, it was somehow of an anomaly to see Connor try to joke like this, hopefully, you weren't expecting too much of him. On the other hand, hopefully, Hank didn't hear that because even though you two are friends he'll scold you for joking around at his expense and giving 'the android weird ideas'.

In return he let out a quick, soft chuckle before clearing his throat to get back to his professional self, his pale cheeks dusted with a soft, blueish color. Seems like he doesn't want to make you feel bad for laughing at you as well.

"Sounds like a lovely evening" He admitted before falling silent once again, his brown, gooey eyes now staring deep into yours, analyzing you. In moments like this, you were always envious of how he can pretty much see through you and see what you think while you're left with his pretty face and zero ideas on what might be going on through his head.

"Let's… check the notes again and work through it together" You finally suggested, trying to put the awkward conversation (on your part) behind the door and focus back again on your actual job. You let Connor shift closer to you, his shoulder bumping against yours as you flipped pages back onto the one with your infamous little drawing.

Seeing the real deal up this close made you realize how much longer his lashes actually are, how his lips are far more softer than what you left on the paper and how many freckles you haven't even put down on your drawing.

You should probably try again, maybe at home.

Maybe with him in your apartment.

[soapkaars]

Your art is really good and not in a joking way or anything, it's just so unique and I haven't seen anything like it. Your take on HH characters is new since neither of the. Are being portrayed in a stereotypical way and both of them seem really human in my eyes, and not only through appearances. Your art has both the ability to be horrifying yet appealing in some strange way and I really hope you continue to draw so I can further see your interpretations on characters. You give inspiration to me in the rarest sense that I could write poetry for your art just to enhance their beauty.

I hope I did not offend you in any comments I've made, and thank you for your time. Goodbye.

Thank you! This is a really lovely ask! I’ll try to answer in the same style:

I really like hearing you say that my art is both horrifying and appealing - it’s something I’ve always tried to aim for! It’s heavily inspired by Film Noir and some of my favourite artists (George Grosz) and I generally try to get the same effect in digital as I do in drawing - so I only sketch and draw on one layer to keep it raw.

Hazbin Hotel attracted me in the first place because the characters already had a certain humanity to them that I wasn’t used to seeing very often, or at least, or at least not in the specific way that got my attention and nestled itself into my brain. And definitely not with supernatural characters like demons from Hell and Lucifer!!! I think the moment I saw him and Alastor I was sold to the show. I just got gripped by the idea of the devil being more than just a tragic evil figure but as human as humanity itself. He’s proud, he’s silly, he’s serious, he’s whimsical, he’s depressed… and Alastor is such a great foil to him because he’s not afraid, despite being massively outclassed, and he’s willing to throw hands and make a fool of himself to angelic beings! Also he’s ace, and as a weirdo ace aro myself I can’t help but say ‘mine now’ to Vivienne Medrano. I relate too much to Alastor. I draw him as I would like to see myself: witty, snarky, ready to go into situations and be completely outclassed, oblivious…

I am looking forward to the second season, and of course because I draw anything that comes to my mind I might draw some more Hazbin art in the future! In any case, thank you so much for this lovely message!

[just-a-carrot]

Sorry that this ask is wordy. Regarding the cinematic scenes in Our Wonderland, they look great. Could I get a bit of insight into the thought process behind them? How did you do them?

oh thank you!! 💕 those definitely took the most time out of anything in the game 🤣

when working on arc 1 I originally tried to write that final scene in words, but it just didn't have the impact I wanted, especially as I couldn't make it go with the song like I wanted. which is why I decided to try the cinematic. I ended up doing it again for similar reasons in arc 2... arcs 3 and 4 I got away with not needing a full cinematic. but then made up for in arc 5 when I needed many LOL

mmm how did I do them... I mostly just started drawing 💦 ok well first I had the music! that's key. I listen to the music and think about the scene and how it would play out. then start drawing. I don't really have any plan for them. I draw a frame and code it to show up on screen. then watch it in game. tweak how many seconds it's shown by guessing. then just add more frames one at a time trying to think about it kinda like a storyboard and how to set up shots. I have to watch it a million times in game because there's no animation feature in renpy... I just watch it from the beginning until I get to the new frame(s) and figure out how I want to tweak the times based on matching it with the music. it's incredibly time consuming, especially towards the end when I have to rewatch three minutes of cutscene just to tweak the time on every new frame 🤣

as I get close to the end I can finally start to figure out what I need to do with the frames to reach the end of the song at the right time. also along the way I often highlight certain parts of the song, usually high points or certain hits, that I want a certain frame to show that I feel work well and will have impact. but so much of it is just figuring it out as I go and hoping for the best 🤣 it would probably make more sense if I did like sketch boards for the whole song first but I am too impatient perhaps so instead I just jump right in and figure it out as I go fhfhfjf

I hope that answers your question despite the rambling... If there's anything specific you want to know you can ask 💦

[3pirouette]

Fic: Your Eyes Look Like Coming Home (1/1)

Title: Your Eyes Look Like Coming Home

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Spoilers: Set during CA: TFA

Rating: Teen and Up (mild references to sexual activity)

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Word Count: 2914

Distribution: AO3  Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: for @behindthelabels for Steggymas! Steve can’t get her eyes right… or the story of how he managed to have a picture of Peggy in his compass. 

AN: So, I started writing a COMPLETELY different story for @behindthelabels, only to find out that I was basing it on something she hadn’t seen. So, I scrubbed it for the time being (though it’s likely to be posted soon, and dedicated to her as a “gift I know you won’t like but sorry, there’s no receipt so you can’t take it back”) and in the meantime, I cooked up this based on an ask she answered. I hope she enjoys it! Thanks @steggyfanevents for another great year!

Title taken from Everything Has Changed by Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran

~*~

He couldn’t get the eyes right. 

It didn’t matter how many times he tried to draw her, he couldn’t get the eyes right. 

Not that he could actually see what he was doing in the dark tent in the middle of the night as sleep evaded him. Drawing her was at least something he could do, an activity to fill the time and his idle hands as he waited for his next assignment. 

The curve of her cheek he managed after a few tries. Her nose took two or three attempts to get the line down. After about two months of sketching at every opportunity he had a passable likeness that he felt confident in. Her lips…

Her lips he got right on the first try. He couldn't imagine not knowing what they looked like, their bright red velvet likeness burned into his memory forever. 

But her eyes, Peggy’s eyes, evaded him. 

He couldn’t quite nail down the sparkle in them, never managed to figure out how to make them stoic yet mischievous at the same time. He could, and frequently did, get lost in those eyes whenever she was around. He would try to memorize the curve of her eyelid and the length of her lashes, made guesses about how many millimeters wide her pupils were and tried to get the shade as close as he could with his nubbin of a pencil, but still. 

Still. 

He couldn’t get the eyes right. 

It didn’t make sense to him that he had a notebook full of images of her and not a single one seemed real, not a single one seemed to capture who she was and the power that radiated from her. It didn’t make sense when he could see her in his dreams every night, as crisp and real as if she were standing before him, a smile on her bright lips and a twinkle in her eyes, but her eyes still evaded him in sketches.

His drawings were all he had out on the lines. It was the one thing he kept with him: his little notebook and the last inch of a pencil went in his pack wherever he went. He made himself notes about missions and plans he should write, but the majority of the pages were filled with drawings. Sometimes it was the monsters of battles on them, being purged from his psyche the only way he could: through the pencil. 

But usually, mostly, it was Peggy. 

He didn’t have any right to miss her, not really. They were both too important, too integral to the war to have time alone or time away from battle. She was busy saving the world through undercover missions and breaking codes in back rooms while he led the charge out in the open. 

There would be time for them when this was all over. 

Or so they told themselves. 

Stolen moments were all they had, little minutes and hours here and there when they happened to both be in the same place at the same time. They didn’t make promises about tomorrow: there were no promises to make in war. They only mused about when they’d next cross paths or how long their next assignment was scheduled to be. 

And those muses were short, clipped words between stolen caresses in closets or as they were making out between mission briefings in abandoned offices. 

Steve wanted to be valiant: he wanted to take her on long, romantic walks and ask her family for permission to have her hand. But war was hell. They were all exhausted and just a little bit traumatized, all broken and a little bit hopeless. Falling into her, feeling her soft, porcelain skin and kissing her warm, red lips, was like a balm. It didn’t last long, but it gave him fire to keep going, gave him a reason to haul his ass back to camp when he just wanted to lay down in the mud, gave him a reason to wake up another day and fight when he constantly seemed outnumbered and outmanned. 

Some nights, all he could do was focus on getting back to her so he could let his fingers trail over the curve of her hip, so he could feel the weight of her in his arms and her breath puffing against his cheek one more time, as he made his way through mud and snow, as he sat in freezing cold tents and hid in bushes behind enemy lines. 

He didn’t have much to hold on to. No family at home, no one waiting for him. 

They didn’t send letters, there was no way for them to write anything meaningful that wouldn’t get read or censored before it got to the other. 

He just had her, just Peggy, and their wartime romance that felt so fragile it could break like glass any day. 

There were so many things that threatened it. 

They were clearly going against regulations. Most who could find someone did, it wasn’t a secret. Even though he hardly thought Colonel Phillips was one to report them, if someone made an official complaint, he’d have to follow through. 

Either one of them could get killed any day. It was a harsh truth, but one they both knew deep down. Every goodbye was hard because they knew it very well could be their last. Men didn’t come back every day, spies were caught behind enemy lines regularly. Either one of them could be on the next list of casualties, so they kissed and touched and loved as long and as hard as they could with the little time they had. 

Steve tried not to think about Peggy finding someone else, but he had a hard time believing sometimes that she truly loved him. Not for anything she did, really, but for the fact that he still saw himself as a different person, still saw himself as someone that was looked over and dismissed. He constantly worked to prove himself, in the field and to her. 

He wanted to deserve her. 

How could he do that if he couldn’t get her damn eyes right?

~*~

“You’re going to stare a hole right through me, you know.” 

“Huh?” Steve’s eyes widened, realizing he’d been caught. 

Peggy leaned up, kissing him before wiping at the red rim of her lipstick around his lips with her thumb. She pulled the sheet tighter around her, her sweat-slicked skin chilling now that they’d slaked their needs for the time being. “Have I something on my face?”

He shook his head, pushing up to sitting and running a hand across his chin, but didn’t answer. 

Peggy slipped from the bed and wrapped her robe around her nude form, retreating to the small dressing table in the hotel room. It was serendipity: they were in the same city at the same time, her mission not starting for a few days and his just ending. The hotel room was a compromise, the quickest way to hopefully not get caught, to spend a quiet moment in the middle of the maelstrom. She started pulling the pins from her mussed hair, looking over her shoulder at him. “Well?”

He was embarrassed, caught, and didn’t know how to broach it without sounding like a fool. He kept his eyes down, shrugging his shoulders. “I can’t get the eyes right.”

She stilled, hands still pulling a pin from her hair, as only her eyebrow moved, lifting high. “The eyes?”

“Your eyes,” he sighed. He pulled his shorts on and moved to the side of the room, rummaging through his pack and pulling out his small notebook. There was a tear in the corner and half the pages were dogeared, so it bounced to an open page when he put it on the table in front of her, leaning back against the wall. He shrugged again before crossing his arms. “Can’t seem to get them right.”

Peggy was stunned, abandoning the half-done job of her pins as she started flipping carefully through the pages. In between his neat notes about troop movements and mission details were sketches. Some were half done, some were shaded and lined and damn near perfect. 

Almost all of them were of her. 

Her jaw dropped as she flipped through the pages. “Steve…” His name passed breathlessly through her lips, she was so taken with picture after picture of herself. 

“I know.” He shook his head, hiding his face from his in his palm. His words were muffled in his hand.  “It’s stupid, I know.”

She set the book down, looking up at him. “Stupid?”

He just waved his hand at the book. “I guess that, other fellas, well, they get to carry pictures, you know? They get to have letters and day passes and-“

“And we have this.” Peggy easily finished the sentence for him, standing in front of him and taking the notebook with her. She opened the page to her favorite likeness, a profile shaded best he could in pencil, her hair detailed in a sharp victory roll. “But why would you think this is stupid?” 

He didn't have the words to express his embarrassment, his insecurity, so he just shrugged again, pink running hot over his chest and up into his cheeks. 

“This,” she held up the picture, “is not stupid. Far from it, in fact.” Peggy shook her head and put the notebook down, letting her hands rest on his folded forearms. “Do you know what I do?”

He laughed nervously. “No.”

“When I’m on a mission or undercover, I collect the papers.” She leaned back, letting her hands move over his forearms. “I can’t draw, so I collect the papers. The ones that have your picture in them. Easy enough to explain away keeping an old paper or two in your flat to use about the place.” She smiled, just a hint of a smile at the corner of her lips as she holds his gaze. “I can’t have your picture in my purse or a ring on my finger or-“

“You want that?” He interrupted, once again surprised. Her confused hum spurred him to elaborate. He lifted her hand in his, running his thumb over her fingers. “A ring?”

Her half smile bloomed into something wider, something sparkling that he’d only captured on paper rarely. “Eventually.” She took his hand and threaded her fingers in his, reaching for his other, swinging them with a little mischief in her eyes. “Though if you thought we could get away with an elopement without the War Department finding out, I’ll start getting my shoes on.”

His lips crashed into her almost before she could finish getting the last words out. “Silly brute,” Peggy playfully admonished, pushing away from his embrace to sit back at the table and resume pulling her pins out. “As if I wouldn’t marry you after going through all this time and again just for five minutes of peace.”

His laugh was genuine as he stepped behind her, helping her probing fingers pull out the pins that had long since moved and snagged, pushed out of place by his passionate embraces and the friction against the sheets. “I guess I just always hoped. We never really talk about it.”

She took his hand in hers, kissed the back of it over her shoulder, her smile dropping just a little in the mirror across from them. “No, you’re right, but with all the things that could go wrong…”

He ran his hand over her cheek as her words faded, the weight of the world outside their little hotel room creeping in just enough. “With all the things that can go wrong, it’s nice to know that I have someone who wants to see me on the other end of it.”

Peggy turned, holding his hand tight in both of hers, her eyes finding his, warm and sincere. “Always, Steve. I will always be waiting for you to come back to me.”

He leaned down, kissing her gently. “Same, Peg. Every mission you go on, I’ll be waiting.” 

“Good,” she took a deep breath, pushing away the emotions she was far too anxious to not feel while she was in this room. If she got to thinking about leaving in a few hours, it would ruin the time they had left. “Now, let’s get these pins out, shall we?” She turned back, looking up at him in the reflection in the mirror. “I have not had my fill of you, but if we leave them in my hair will be matted beyond recognition and not only will I be dress coded, there will be no question as to where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing.”

Steve kissed the top of her head, pulling another pin out and setting it on the table. “Yes, Ma’am.”

~*~

Luck was on Peggy’s side when Steve and the Commandos made their way into the small base the next day. She would be heading out soon, as would he, but even fifteen minutes would be enough time for what she had planned. 

She passed him in the hallway, stepping in time with him only long enough to say hello to everyone and slip her hand into his pocket without him noticing. 

Ten minutes later, she made a show of bumping into him in the hall, flustered and dropping her pile of papers.

The commandos helped her pick them up, and she smiled like the cat that got the cream as she walked away. 

~*~

“Something wrong with Peg?” Dugan asked as they settled themselves in the back of the transport. 

“Wrong?” Steve asked, settling his shield next to him so he could lean on the wall of the truck. “She looked okay to me.”

Dugan raised an eyebrow under the rim of his bowler. “Carter ran into you like a freight train on a mission. Have you ever known that woman to ever drop anything like a ditzy secretary before?”

Steve looked at his friend, realization slowly dawning. It was unlike Peggy to not know where she was in space and to be clumsy. He’d never seen her trip or barrel into anything unless it was on purpose. And boy, had he seen her do it on purpose to unsuspecting targets when she wanted to get her hands on something they had. “But why…”

Dugan shrugged, pulling his hat over his eyes. “Dunno, friend. Maybe check your pockets.”

Steve started patting himself down as the truck roared to life, bouncing him as it headed out to their destination. Everything was where it should be, everything was accounted for in the right pockets. 

But it didn’t make sense. 

Steve started pulling each thing out, looking over each little piece of equipment. Everything was as he’d put it in there, except his notebook. 

On the very last page was a new entry in Peggy’s neat handwriting. 

My darling, we have the rest of our lives for you to get the eyes right. 

She didn’t sign it. She couldn’t. Not if they wanted to at least continue to pretend to follow the rules. But she did draw a little star symbol next to it. He looked over her words for far longer than he needed to commit them to memory, eyes following the sharp points of the star over and over. On nights to come he would look over them again and again, trying to remember her voice in his mind as he read them. 

He slipped the notebook back in his pocket, closing his eyes and trying to get some sleep before boots had to be on the ground. 

Something bothered him, though. It wouldn’t let him rest.

The star. 

She’d never drawn a star before. They’d never talked about stars or night skies in any significant way. They definitely hadn’t spent time talking about stars last night as he moved in her, dragging his lips over her soft skin and pulling her thigh up over his hip, existing as one for as long as they could muster in the middle of the war. 

No, the little eight pointed, stylized star wasn’t quite right. It had to mean something else. 

Four long points, four short points…

He sat up and shoved his hand in his pocket, pulling his compass out. 

He knew before he even opened it. It smelled just faintly of her perfume. He couldn’t hide his smile as he flicked it open to find her picture staring back at him. It was simple, surely an ID photo she managed to drag up from somewhere. He’d want to know why she had a copy at hand, especially one small enough to fit in his compass. She was full of surprises, though the more he thought about it he was sure it had more to do with the photostats or halftone prints she could get done from the records department on base. 

For now, though, he decided it would be better to just focus on what he had in his hands and not the how. He had her image with him now, everywhere he went she was just a flick away in his pocket. 

He could look at her face on those lonely, cold nights, and use it to help guide him when he felt like pulling out his pencil and trying his hand at her portrait again. 

He’d get her eyes right. 

And if he didn’t?

If he didn’t, she was always with him now. 

[edendeleon-art]

A personal, artistic reflection to end 2023

This has been a very complicated year in relationship to my art, I took a break from it due to many factors. When I would sit down with my sketchbook open in front of me, I felt very nervous to grab a pencil, thinking I was wasting my time and not doing anything to improve my life, like going to Uni or getting a job. The mere act of doing something for my pleasure evoked a great sense of guilt; there were a lot of negative emotions related to art creation stemming from recent trauma (which I still do not feel comfortable openly talking about to this day).

I drew inconsistently while putting most of my effort on other things: activism, community events and activities, going out with friends, basic photography classes, reading, cooking, writing, therapy, pets, and so on.

The few drawings I made were mostly out of personal and external obligation than passion; I dont deride them completely since they helped me improve a lot, but I wish I could've balanced things out better. I was very lost on what I wanted to do with my future and had my priorities all messed up.

Now, I'm still not entirely sure what I want for my future and how that would look like, but I think I have a little bit more clarity and better organization skills than a few months ago. I feel my connection with art has started healing and no longer see it as a medium that disempowers me, rather the opposite, I've never felt more empowered by my art than today. The ability to express my experiences in regards to my transness, disabilities, sexual identities, childhood, adolescence, relationships, nature, etc. and not have a sense of shame or worthlessness is a very important step that I will carry in the future.

I have a lot of ideas Im confident I can pull out. They might take me a little while, but they'll be released eventually. Right now I've been taking a break from drawing due to many personal situations arising in the past month, but I think I'm ready to grab my pencil again and do stuff. I've got some art pending that I'll finish throughout January, although I'll also be preparing sketches for new art coming.

It has been tough, way too emotionally taxing, and I doubt things will get any easier from now on. Yet Im still alive and I think that's gotta mean something. I cannot be thankful enough for how much I've been able to grow collectively and individually.

Thank you to all my friends and followers who have supported my art so far, I really appreciate it and I hope I can continue to bring you something in the future.

Take care and happy new year

[anthrofreshtodeath]

Do you remember what the first smut you ever wrote was? And how did you get so confident in writing it (or was it always easier for you?) I am dabbling in some writing for the first time in my fandom life and I find a lot of it flows right out of me, but the smut?? Good christ I’m all over the place with it and don’t think I’m succeeding in what I’m actually trying to convey 😂😭 Do you have any tips?

Hmm… I think the first smut I wrote was when I was 19 for Alucard and Integra of Hellsing (the anime). I never posted it. It was bad.

And I hope I’m not bursting your bubble, but for me, the smut writing never really got easier 😂. I don’t really think my smut is all that good, so I may be the wrong person to ask. But like you, I struggle because it is very… choreographed. It’s like playing Tetris with your writing. The end result is supposed to be sexy, but the process is so technical as to be dry (at least for me).

But, with that said, I guess I have a few tips:

1) unless you’re writing PWP, try to give your smut a purpose. I’ll use CMWHS chapter 14 as an example - Jane and Maura are fucking, but Maura is using the fucking to punish Jane in a very particular kind of way that she knows will hurt Jane because Jane hurt her. So, successfully or not, it serves the plot. Once I know what I want the sex scene to do, then I plan out the acrobatics, LOL. Meaning what positions, what do they say to each other, etc.

2) just get the skeleton on the page. If you’re not sure of all the above, put a barebones placeholder down, like a sketch of how you want the scene to go, then return to it later after you’ve had time to think about it. Wow, lots of bones talk here, but I do this one all the time.

3) listen to music to get you in the right headspace! This doesn’t work for everyone, but it works for me. Listen to sex music. Get a feel for what is sexy to you and to other people and draw inspiration from that. Notice I am not recommending a certain genre because sex music can mean different things to different people. Send an ask or a DM if you want to know specific artists or songs I listen to in order to get in the smut writing zone.

4) read other people’s work! This is so important for all types of writing, smut included. Well-rounded readers are better writers. Don’t copy, but draw inspiration.

5) Last one - don’t try to be too sexy. This is hard to explain and I’m not even sure I can articulate what I mean by it very well, but I’m going to try. Avoid porny language, the “oh yeah right there baby” stuff. The over the top, “her orgasm ripped through her” type of stuff. I think we’re all guilty of going there from time to time, myself totally included, but sex is a thing that real people do. Real people say real things and crack real jokes and express real emotions during sex. They say silly things, they say sexy things that you wouldn’t necessarily find conventionally sexy, but oh boy does it work for their partner(s). Write about what you find sexy, or what people have told you they find sexy, independent of what media tells us what we should think is sexy. Queer spaces are great for this. One thing I think is hot? When Jane Rizzoli crosses her arms and nods while Maura Isles is talking, all while she looks down at her, in a completely nonsexual context or conversation. I can take that body language and transpose it onto a sex scene, alter it a bit, and it works. It’s not, you know, them making out or moaning or getting bent over or whatever (those things can be hot too), but it feels more real because it’s true to character. I hope that made even the tiniest bit of sense 😂. Long story short I think the hottest smut is the smut that is unique to those characters, not just the smut that ticks all the kink boxes or gets all the conventional positions right. Though getting those boxes ticked can be fun too! When people combine the character development and the kinky boxes? God tier smut.

Like I said - probably not the right person to ask given my complicated relationship with my smut writing, but I hope this helped! If it wasn’t so awkward I’d do a “my favorite sex scenes and what I find successful about them” series of posts or something.

[ruki--mukami]

Nunnally was lying on a carpet close to the fireplace. She had her book opened and was writing something in her notebook. She definitely seemed quite busy with whatever she was doing. But Nunnally was only giving the impression that she was hard working. She was deep in her thoughts and she herself was not completely aware of what she was doing. It took her a longer while to realize that she was not making math calculations anymore, bur drawing Ruki, who was sitting on the couch reading a book. She made two sketches before she realized what she was doing. This discovery flustered her immediately, she closed a notebook more abruptly than she intended and tossed it away drawing more attention to herself than necessary. She looked at Ruki and out of the blue asked him a question that was most likely wandering somewhere deep in her mind:

“Ruki, do you still hope I’ll call you my master one day? Or are you now just fine with us being…” – Nunnally paused; she was not sure what they really were, but whatever that was she liked it – “…as we are? We are happy now, aren’t we?”

“Anyway, I am.” – she thought.

“And Ruki…” – Nunnally added more quietly; her cheeks turning even redder – “If you ever get married would you require your wife to call you master? Do all men require that?”

"Well, I'd appreciate the title very much from you in particular, Nunnally. But, as you may have surmised, it is no requirement. 'Ruki' shall suffice, so long as you continue to behave yourself. As for how we currently are…" the Vampire traipsed forward, taking a seat beside the girl. "If we're not 'Master' and 'Livestock,' then what would you consider us, Nunnally? I'm curious to hear it directly from your lips."

The florid complexion of her face instilled what would've been a resounding beat across each chamber of his undead heart from the mere sight alone, reminding Ruki that she, too, had her adorable side. At times, he likened Nunnally to that of a spoiled princess out of touch with reality, but others, he couldn't help but want to dote on her. Not as a protective older sibling, but as something further. A bond further than that of kindred caring for one another unconditionally. Taking a peek at her notebook, a small smile crept upon his ashen lips in pure amusement.

"It is a bit old-fashioned of men to require their wives to call them 'Master,' I do admit. Contemporary marriages look nothing like that, ergo it's a farfetched leap to assume all men enjoy the epithet. However, hearing it from you would be nice, Nunnally. It would be a sign that you've entrusted yourself to me—if you're genuine about it, of course. I'm great at detecting sarcasm as you already know. And I would prefer it if you only called me by that title. No one else, otherwise there is no point in it. No one else... Not even Karlheinz-sama. I couldn't ask that of you," he wrapped an arm around her waist, "or at least, that's what I would like to say."

Confiscating the journal from her, Ruki stared at his own image, sketched by her hand. Now all the blushing finally made sense.

"You're quite gifted at this, aren't you? If only you put this much effort into your studies as well," chuckled the Vampire wryly. "Somehow I can't help but feel honored to be your muse in art, even if only for a moment. I don't want you to discuss marriage with anyone else, Nunnally. Or draw anyone else, for that matter. So, with that said, I must ask in return: if you were to find a husband, would you want to call him 'Master'? Such a title ought to be reserved for someone who not only takes full responsibility over you, but also someone who genuinely cherishes and loves you with all that he is."

A hand curled around her cheek, fingers tipping on the back of her neck.

"Someone who makes your heart flutter, your breath quicken, your pulse race. Have you found someone like that, Nunnally?"

[elektroyu]

Ich habe 170 Mal im Jahr 2022 etwas gepostet

96 Einträge erstellt (56%)

74 Einträge gerebloggt (44%)

Blogs, die ich am häufigsten gerebloggt habe:

@elektroyu

@eskiworks

@sky-yote

@dennydraws

@windupsanson

Ich habe 165 meiner Einträge im Jahr 2022 getaggt

Nur 3% meiner Einträge hatten keine Tags

#reblog – 57 Einträge

#random stuff – 53 Einträge

#digital – 27 Einträge

#pet portrait – 20 Einträge

#wip – 17 Einträge

#artist resources – 10 Einträge

#beautiful – 9 Einträge

#writing – 8 Einträge

#sketch – 7 Einträge

#cat – 7 Einträge

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#i seriously can't comprehend why*any*one would ever choose the incomprehensible mess that the back office is now over what they had before

Meine Top-Einträge im Jahr 2022:

#5

A little sketch for @wyrd66 for her birthday yesterday! It's inspired by this sketch of a Pilasira lady, which when I saw it back then made me think of her turning her head and looking straight on at the viewer. I gave her a smile because of the happy occasion. :) Paski heads are so difficult to draw, though (especially in weird angles, and as usual I'm making life miserable for myself by chosing weird angles haha), maybe I need to do some more sketching to get a better feel for them ^^; Anyway, I reeeeaaaaally wanted to draw something for your this year and of course it had to be a Paski. :) So again, happy (belated) birthday! I hope you had a wonderful day yesterday! <3

23 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 11. September 2022

#4

Played around with it some more over the weekend and arrived at this in the end. I'll try at least one other thing with this (probably not going to upload tho), but I'm calling this finished now. For real this time 😛 And it does print nicely! Even with my old photo printer, so it should work fine.

Interesting was how much of an impact those little sparkles have, although I really tried to keep them as subtle as I can.

32 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 5. September 2022

#3

Quick post before lunch! The Sammy and Bats piece is finished!!

59 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 4. Dezember 2022

#2

(whispers to self)

maybe writing dumb shit that doesn't make sense but is good for my lonely little heart is actually a great idea? nobody except for myself needs to read it and it's still a productive way to spend my time even though nobody else gets to read it. it doesn't need to have a proper plot, it doesn't need to have proper worldbuilding, not even proper characters or character development. it only needs to feel good!

(end of whisper to self)

61 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 14. Juni 2022

Meine #1 des Jahres 2022

Finished Bats! Which makes this thing a little less than halfway done if I stick to my original plan. :)

90 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 30. März 2022

Hol dir deinen Tumblr-Jahresrückblick 2022 →

[cb-works13]

A Character Info Dump, Featuring Oliver

Wanna feel good about your OC drawing/writing abilities? Redraw something.

(This is mostly just me dumping information about my characters, so if you like reading random things about people you’ve never heard of, you’re at the right place!)

In January, I drew the opinions my characters had about the others. They were quick sketches to just get general ideas on paper, stylized like it was a cutaway interview from a show like The Office. I was extremely proud of them. Just a couple of days ago, I was looking back on those and, in classic “my old art looks terrible” fashion, realized just how much I’ve developed them since, so I decided to take another stab and redo the idea. I started with Oliver.

Oliver used to be an extremely static, almost always chipper person. He was diving hard into the whole “my character flaw is that I care too much!” UGH. As I began digging deep into what he might stand for and how his past would shape his present, I realized that Oliver would have way more to say than just “I love X person! Y person seems like a jerk but he’s okay! Why does Z hate me???” Let’s dig in!

Oliver’s Opinion on Holly:

Take the first set of pictures above the intro. Oliver is talking about his little sister, Holly.

(Note: I’m typing out the paragraphs instead of just posting the pictures with the text because I can have bad handwriting and spelling, so doing this mitigates the number of potential mistakes I can/will make)

Originally, Oliver says, “What am I supposed to say? She’s my little sister! I love her. She’s adventurous and wide-eyed. I want to keep up with her energy, but I also have to protect her, you know?”

Great… what does that mean, exactly? It’s so straight forward and yet it tells me nothing. There’s no relationship Oliver has with his OWN SISTER other than “I love her and I’m a big brother!”

When I redrew it, I really wanted to hint at the underlying reasons why Oliver feels the way he does about his sister. He says, “Holly’s my little sister. She’s been a bundle of joy ever since she was born, and I love her to the moon and back. She’s curious, adventurous, and bubbly, and I hope I never have to see that change in her.”

Ooh, what does Oliver mean by not wanting “to see that change in her”? That sounds way more interesting than “I have to protect her!” Instead of Oliver being all about “protection” in the general, vague sense that most older siblings have for their younger siblings, there’s this idea that Oliver wants to preserve Holly the way she is right now- innocent, joyful, and happy.

Oliver’s Opinion on Roxanne:

Here is Oliver talking about Roxanne.

In the first one, Oliver says “Roxanne is one of the first close friends I ever made! She’s resourceful and smart. If there’s anyone I trust with not letting this mission collapse, it’s her.”

Very sweet. One issue. Roxanne is unbelievably stubborn, and she views her ideas as superior to everyone else because of the extreme amounts of planning she does for any situation she can think of. She’s incredibly smart, don’t get that mistaken, but her ideas are often outlandishly complicated and insane. Anyone should see that, including Oliver- especially when he’s known her for so long.

Oliver, while he can see the idea of being prepared for a lot as a good thing, cannot comprehend the concept that Roxanne can be ready for everything because of how his own life went. Oliver sees his powers as a hindrance- they are completely contingent on his emotions, meaning they will activate freely when he feels any particular way, and as an emotional person, that’s a pretty big issue that can affect him any time, anywhere. There’s little he can do about the “be prepared” aspect, because his day can dramatically change if his crush walks into the room, if he hears a sad story, or if someone tells him a joke.

In addition, since Roxanne is a lifelong friend of Oliver, he’d be much less likely to sugarcoat things when it comes to talking about her, especially since there’s no romantic feelings between them, something that would usually cause someone to elevate the other person through rose-tinted glasses.

In the new drawing, Oliver says, “I REALLLY don’t think I can put this lightly, but she’s crazy. I know, I know, she’s a close friend. But as one of HER close friends, I can say that. I mean, she’s always crafting some new projects and plans for, I dunno, if an alien steals her microwave or something, but there’s no way she can be prepared for absolutely EVERYTHING. She’s crazy.”

Oliver’s Opinion on Flint:

Then there’s Oliver’s opinion on Flint.

The original drawing reads “Well, he’s not so bad, if you can get past the pretentious, obnoxious, and rude side of him. He can crack a few jokes. Occasionally.”

Flint probably has more of a superior complex than Roxanne, but his selfishness is rooted in the fact that he is both an extremely powerful rock alter (alters are the name for people born with abilities/powers) AND a child in an extremely rich and famous family. He believes he’s the best and expects everyone to believe as much.

Oliver can see how much Flint adds to the group and how much it means to have someone like him butt in- I mean, join the group, but he’s not star-struck like Flint’s adoring fans. Oliver wouldn’t say “oh he’s not so bad,” Flint’s a celebrity. The general public, including Oliver, is much more okay with speaking negatively about celebrities. Besides, he’s seen Flint’s reality TV show. It’s stupid.

“Gosh, he makes Roxanne look like a sober-minded scholar. I don’t even understand HOW Flint got on our team, but he does a good job balancing being the most obnoxious, pretentious sixteen year old I’ve ever met and reminding us he’s the most powerful alter in the group often enough so we don’t go insane. It’s nice not having to pay for gas, though…”

Reading the original paragraph, you’d think, “Wow, what a terrible person. Why would anyone keep this jerk around?” With the new paragraph, I wanted to showcase how Flint can have his cake and eat it too, being able to be the selfish jerk in the group and then turn around and remind people why he’s important in the first place. He knows how to talk (or bribe) his way through interactions, as seen in Oliver not understanding how Flint joined the group (the gang originally didn’t want Flint, they just wanted to exploit someone rich at a party for money. Flint overheard the group talking and declared himself part of the group so that he can add it to his resume) and Flint paying for things that would make their mission easier, like gas.

Oliver’s Opinion on Vale:

Lastly, there’s Vale.

This is where I had to remind myself that Oliver’s a dude. Many, many of the guys I know don’t particularly care if someone really likes them or not, especially when it comes to other guys.

Originally, Oliver says, “I don’t know what I did wrong, but I feel like Vale doesn’t like me? He can feel however he wants, but I’d like to know if I did something to start us off on the wrong foot.”

EW. THIS IS SO CRINGE.

I understand people can behave like this (being overly concerned about how someone else feels about them), but Oliver sounds like he’s gushing over Vale like those girls in movies who brush their hair with their fingers as the guy walks past and go nuts if the guy looks at them. Not only is Oliver not interested in Vale (Oliver has a crush on a girl named Priscilla), but I couldn’t even get what I was trying to write about correct: being an introvert.

Both Oliver and Vale are introverted. Oliver tries to live every day as quietly as possible because of how expressive his powers are. He got laughed at by his classmates for years when his powers flared up, so keeping a low profile makes his life a little less stressful and embarrassing.

Vale keeps to himself for more private reasons, and it is true that Vale doesn’t like Oliver, but Oliver should only be able to recognize that Vale’s not big on interacting with anyone, including Oliver. Oliver only knows Vale within the context of this group, which means that Vale being reserved with Oliver is interpreted as a product of Vale’s overall characterization of being introverted, not an indication of how he feels about Oliver.

In the new version, Oliver says, “He’s quiet, and I totally get it. Between Roxanne and Flint constantly arguing, we would all need hearing aids if Vale or I joined in. He keeps to himself, but that doesn’t mean he won’t tell you that whatever you said was stupid- he’s really nailed the ‘disappointed look’… I tend to get those a lot.”

This now highlights Vale’s introversion and Oliver being able to relate to it. It also hints at Vale having more reservations towards Oliver (him getting more disappointed looks from Vale), but it’s mostly taken as a passing thought for Oliver rather than a huge concern.

How Oliver is Drawn:

Turning my focus to the art itself, it’s so incredibly satisfying to see Oliver actually express himself, rather than just standing there, morphing in shape, and having “mouth open” as part of his facial expression. As I get to know my characters more and more, I’m hoping to really refine what each of their mannerisms and expressions would be, and I really like how Oliver turned out in this.

The Conclusion:

Anyways, I hope there was something interesting you learned in there. I intend to do this for all of the main characters, but they shouldn’t be nearly as extensive as this one, simply because I got a bulk of the characterization descriptions for each of them here. But who knows?

Thanks for reading!

[pathsofoak]

5, 8, 9, 11, 16, 19, 27, 29 for writing wrapped!

Hi! That's so many omg (adoringly)

5. Favorite line of dialogue you wrote this year?

Hmm. It's a bit cheesy, maybe, but:

"What if it hurts forever?"

Because that is going to be the main point of Brenda's arc. She's gonna have to learn to accept and then live with her new disabilities, but it takes her a very long time to actually get to that point. When she asks this to someone, she's still not really sure if she can actually do it. The part where she learns how I haven't written yet, just her decision to try.

8. Did you have a word you used too often?

"Just" is my crutch word... I use it everywhere. I think shrugging and sighing are big ones too, with me, but Just just... tops the list.

9. Most important writing lesson you learned this year?

Layering plots! I had a bit of trouble filling up the gaps in my story and wanted to add subplots, but I used to think those should be very clear and distinguishable as "not the main plot." Turns out, I was wrong. A bit of a mish-mash of dos and don'ts plus what I already knew about story structures helped me create a method that prevents a formulaic feel, has subplots that (hopefully) feel organic and don't stand out that much, and also made my outlines very satisfying to look at (from an aesthetic point of view, since I draw them out. I have this little sketch with all my main story lines on top of each other).

11. What was the highlight of your writing/writing career this year?

Sharing a big chunk of my writing, definitely! I've never done so before, but I gave a half of TLF to you and a few irl friends, and it's been very exciting. Other than that, I had this missing bit in my main plot and I could never figure out what it was, but a couple months ago it just clicked, and now everything makes so much more sense.

16. Who was your favorite character to write?

I'm terrible at picking favorites I think Thomas, Brenda, or Teresa. Teresa just has such a great internal conflict going on, and I really get to play with her past as well. Brenda has an arc that's quite personal, and her dynamic with Jorge and how it changes depending on the situation is one of my favorite things to play around with. Thomas is a favorite because at this point I just know him (well, my version of him) so well the words start flowing whenever I write from his POV. His selective mutism makes it a bit challenging sometimes, especially since there will be an entire part where he doesn't speak at all except to himself (once or twice), but my plan for his (very, very gradual) recovery was very cathartic to outline as well.

19. Summarize your writing project in 5 key words.

Angst, family, grief, anxiety, and trust

I think?

27. Which books, movies, etc, helped instruct your storytelling this year?

OH! KM Weiland's books on character arcs helped me a lot, as did my Emotional Wound Thesaurus. I learned a lot from the Maze Runner movies as well, on a characterization-level.

29. Do you want to try writing any new genres next year?

I genuinely want to try romance a bit more. I want to step out of my comfort zone a bit, especially since it opens up a whole new world of events and prompts. I'm thinking short oneshots or drabbles to start with. Other than that, fluff! I hope I can start the first draft of The High Noon by the end of 2023, which will be the happy part, so to speak.

Thanks so much for asking these!!!

[reidsnose]

doodles

overview: reader doodles on her hands a lot and spencer has to give into the temptation of coloring it in

genre: flufffffff

a/n: sorry ive havent posted a fic in like a week, ive been in quite a slump but i had this idea well after midnight but i just had to write it so lmk what u guys think of this one :)

masterlist

-

-

doodling on your hands: a once nervous habit that had seeped into your everyday life and now is just a regular habit. nearly everyday you would come to work with clean hands and get home with a mini art gallery on your non dominant one.

Spencer admired this from the moment he noticed it. at first he thought you had a tattoo but when you came back the next day with it completely gone, he was a tad confused, only to catch you doodling on that very same hand a couple hours later on the jet. he thought maybe it was an occasional thing, a habit you'd quit once you got better situated into the team, but after nearly a year you still left work almost everyday with some cutesy sketches drawn on your hand.

Spencer found himself looking forward to your doodles, imagining in his head what you might draw each day, and thinking of all the colors you would add if you had the time. being the great profiler that he is, he noticed a pattern: you subconsciously correlated your doodles with your mood.

after especially hard cases or just bad days you always drew roses.

when you were very happy you drew all sorts of fruits.

anxiousness bore little swampy creatures and lily pads.

tired days filled your hands with random, intricate designs that you didn't even have to try hard to make.

and content was anything else.

he was so impressed and absolutely adored your little coping mechanism. watching you concentrate on making those teeny pieces of art simply for your own pleasure was definitely a sight to see. the way your eyebrows furrowed and tongue poked out a bit was absolutely positively adorable. and soon he had noticed that he was looking forward less to the doodles and more to watching you draw them. and after that he began looking forward to just you.

you were sat on the jet with your back to the corner of the last seat on the plane, creating a pattern of roses on the back of your hand. Spencer plopped down in the seat next to you, growing tired of watching from so far away.

"that bad, huh?" he asked, noticing the type of flower you were gracing your hand with.

"hm?" you looked up, confused.

"you only doodle roses on bad days." he explained, pointing to your hand.

"what? no i don't!" you defended, " i just think roses are neat."

to be fair, you were having a bad day but he could've profiled that without the doodle. he cant be right, can he? there was no way you had a mood system for your doodles! unless there was.

"repetitive strokes are therapeutic, so roses being rough days make sense. the spiral in the middle followed by however many layered petals you want is a perfectly repetitive while still interesting enough to doodle."

"if i didn't know any better i'd say you've been spying on me, Dr. Reid," you teased, enjoying the slight rouge that appeared on his cheeks.

"what! no! i'm- i'm a profiler i notice patterns! i just- spying sounds creepy." he stammered.

"ok. how about admiring." you jabbed, turning a little red yourself.

"fine. but you know coloring helps too." he flipped back to the old topic of conversation.

"unfortunately i only have the standard blue, black and red ink."

"roses are red." he chuckled.

"interesting point," you bent down and reached into your bag, pulling out a red pen and handing it to him, "knock yourself out."

"what?" he looked at you slightly bewildered.

"coloring is therapeutic, you said it yourself. and you and i both know that you need something to relax you after a case like that. we all do." you explained, trying to be as nonchalant as you could knowing his skin would touch yours.

he grabbed the pen and clicked it open, coloring smoothly and slowly inside the lines you had already made in black, careful not to go over them and smudge the ink. you and him both tried your best to ignore the warmth shooting through your bodies from every place your hands touched. his fingertips lightly grazing your knuckles as he worked.you worked your way up your arm, giving you both space to work and by the time you landed, you had a half sleeve garden of surprisingly well colored (and somehow shaded) red roses.

you went home that night and bought a pack of colorful (washable) pens, hoping this little rose garden with him wasn't a one time thing. and even if it was, you would want to add your own pop of color to your doodles.

thankfully it wasn't.

you and Spencer found yourselves drawing and coloring on your hand a lot. he would catch you doing it and pop in over your shoulder just to add a touch of color where he thought it fit. and you began to feel sad washing off what the two of you had created that day, feeling nostalgic for time that has hardly passed.

and sometimes on the jet you would get tired of your own skin, so you would draw little doodles on his hand, often times leaving a little heart at the base of his thumb. these little hearts he avoided washing off for as long as he possibly could because they felt like a part of you was always with him. he started doing the same thing to your hand, a sort of signature the two of you shared.

most days, the doodles on your hands were pretty much fully colored in.

but now Spencer began to worry. what if you get ink poisoning because of his coloring? sure, the risk was statistically low, improbable even; but never zero. so one night after work he went out and bought a little sketchbook and on the front he scrawled,

"y/n's super duper special sketchbook"

upon receiving it, after giving him a hug he never wanted to let go of, you took a sharpie and started editing the title he had given it. so it now read:

"y/n and Spencer's super duper special sketchbook"

the two of you used up a whole page that day, front and back filled with all types of fruits. Spencer smiled to himself, knowing this had made you very happy. you took a second to take a step back and admire him doing the very thing he admired you for. and you understood why; he just looked so precious and you suddenly realized you craved the feeling of his hand touching yours. so you leaned over and drew a little black heart at the base of his thumb. he looked up at you, smiling widely before returning a red heart to the base of your thumb.

and you guys tore through that book, using a page a day and filling it cover to cover in no time. your own personal handmade coloring book. it turned out to be both of your most prized possessions, a pang of sadness filling your chests as you finished the last page.

you felt bad taking it home with you that night, wondering if maybe Spencer wanted to keep it. maybe you should keep it at work so you can both have it. thats the fair thing to do. you looked down, smiling sadly at the little red heart on your hand.

he did want to keep it. but he had a better idea in mind. he looked down, smiling excitedly at the little black heart on his hand.

the next day when you arrived to work all your worries were solved. on your desk laid a new sketch book entitled:

"y/n and Spencer's super duper special sketchbook: volume ii"

you laughed as you read a small lilac post it note that said, "i want to keep this one please" signed with a little red heart in the corner.

-

-

ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @coffeereid-deactivated20210303 @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @s1utformgg @violetspoetic

[blackmonitor]

It’s time to reconvene The Asker’s Studio™️ because I’ve got questions!

It is my exceedingly good fortune @blackmonitor that you are reading @myevilmouse Conflicting Aesthetics at same time I am, so that I reap the benefits of your artistic talents. In chapter 3, Mouse drops a heavy paragraph relating the frustrations that our artist, Seta, is experiencing whilst sketching Thrawn:

It wouldn’t be perfect. That was the problem with truly fascinating subjects. Capturing his aura was the best she could hope for. Thrawn, even half-naked, exuded command. The sense of power, a demeanor of authority was prevalent, almost but not completely camouflaging a latent vulnerability. Not self-consciousness, something else. Seta could see it, imagined Thrawn would deny it existed, but wouldn’t be content until its flavor was imbued in the lines of her art. It was the sum total, everything wrapped in a charismatic fog of mystery, emphasizing the thing that made him most alien—which also made him intriguing and attractive beyond the physical.

I asked the omniscient Mouse if she was 1. An artist 2. If she was, was this description from experience? The answer was No on both counts. WHUT?! I am not satisfied with this answer. I need to know MORE!

So my dear honest to goodness real artist: Could you please reflect on the paragraph above from an artist’s point of view.

Hint: short answers are not acceptable (jk) 🤣

For those of you who have not seen the portrait that Seta was frustrated over, @blackmonitor has done us the great favour and rendered it for us, exquisitely. (Check out all of her work - it’s pure gold yummy greatness)

Portrait courtesy of @blackmonitor

As always: you have the floor. Thank you for the generosity of your time and talent!

Welcome! Oh wow… Let me just…

“So my dear honest to goodness real artist...”

Oh yes, that paragraph! That was chilling! And I had the opportunity to read it as a lost artist who didn't draw anything for YEARS, and now, as someone who brought joy to many people with my silly drawings. In both cases, it touched something in my soul.

First of all, let me talk about the method of my drawings - not the technical details I already described here.

So art, for me, is about communication - communicating something to the viewer, even in a portrait or anything. It should tell a story, an emotion, or just some vibes to the viewer. Otherwise, it has no point (according to my point of view, but this is highly subjective, so forgive me if yours are different).

For example, take my first Thrawn portrait. 

Before I started to draw it, I wondered what I should draw - how to draw him. Back then, I read the first Ascendancy book, so it was obvious that I wanted to see him in that uniform. So when I found my reference from the comic, I changed it to communicate what I wanted - a man destined for greatness who failed.

But how? Well, my method is this - in mind, I became that person (like writers do it). I imagine how he would act, what he would feel… general things. And when I can see that back from my display, I'm happy. Like Seta, I always put my interpretation of the character into the drawing - the posture, the expression, and emotion. @myevilmouse did a beautiful work of describing all those things and the struggle!

The overall vibes and emotions are always superior to the technique or realism in my art. I want to communicate basic understandings in a pleasant form. Sometimes this works better, and sometimes it's not. But I always worked like this even before I did fanarts. So for me, Seta's struggle is real! But I never tried to reach hyperrealism 🤭 That's not for me. Swift projects, maybe a few days on them, move on to something different.

Similarly, in writing, @myevilmouse wrote down beautifully the struggle of sketching someone sitting in front of you, and you know almost nothing about him. In cases like that, I usually use my imagination. Fill out the gaps. I have a basic knowledge of personalities which I use these times. And while I am drawing someone, I'm always thinking about them - not necessarily them in the picture, but other different situations - filling those gaps in my mind.

The goal for me is to put something into the picture. When that something is "looking back to me," I'm happy. Maybe it's something only I can sense, Idk. But that's my goal, similar to what Seta felt as @myevilmouse described it.

For me, Thrawn is a fascinating individual to draw - because he is a great character! And there is so much potential in him.

Thank you for this opportunity to share my thought about this exciting subject! 

[sleepy-belphie]

Hello! I don’t know if you’re doing headcannon requests but if you don’t mind could you do something along the lines of “the brothers find out mc likes to draw and drew the brothers”

Hi! I am doing hc requests so thank you for sending this in! It was actually really fun to write, I really hope you enjoy it <3 Got a little carried away with this one too lol

Tags: @kawaiiblack

~~~~~

Lucifer:

He’s doing room checks as usual

And you left your sketchpad/drawing tablet out on your desk

You catch sight of it a bit too late and can only watch as Lucifer moves from your dresser to your desk

He pauses as his eyes spot the sketchpad/tablet

He picks it up and looks at it before glancing at you

“May I?”

You nod and nervously watch him go through your work

His face is unreadable as he goes through drawing after drawing of him and his brothers

It feels like an eternity before he finishes

“Do you do commissions?”

It takes a moment for you to register what he’s said

“...what?”

“I’d like to commission you.”

If you do traditional art he asks for a 30x40 of him and his brothers

If you do digital art he asks for a colored, full-body piece of him and his brothers

He lets you decide how much you want to be paid

But he thinks it’s not enough so he pays you 55,000 Grimm

The 30x40 piece hangs in his study

The colored, full-body piece is printed, framed, and sitting on his desk

Mammon:

He bursts into your room one night when you’re finishing up a drawing of Satan and Asmo

You’re not fast enough to hide it from him

“Is that Satan and Asmo? Oi! Where’s my drawing!?”

Before you can show him anything else he’s speaking again

“N-not that I care! It’s hard to capture this perfection! I can see why you haven’t drawn me!”

He tries to act unbothered, but you can see past his tsundere ways

Once he’s done declaring how unbothered he is, you show him some pieces with him in it

He grabs the pad/tablet excitedly and snatches it from you to marvel over your work

“This is actually really good, ya know? I bet we could make some good Grimm off your little talent.”

You can practically see the dollar signs in his eyes

But you tell him that is not happening and take your pad/tablet back

He’s a bit mopey about it for a little but eventually lets it go when he sees you aren’t budging

When he does have a little bit of Grimm he does commission you for a small piece

The brothers’ eyes almost bulge out of their head when they hear that Mammon actually paid you for work

“What!? The Great Mammon can be nice sometimes! It doesn’t mean anything!”

It means a lot actually

But you’re a pro at reading between the lines with Mammon

Leviathan:

He’s on social media when he sees a drawing on his explore page that he’s absolutely in love with

The art style? Immaculate. He wanted to see so many of his favorite game and anime characters in this style

He imagines Ruri-chan in your art style and his brain just *internet dial-up noises* for about five minutes

He goes to the artist’s profile and starts scrolling through all their posted work

He pauses when he comes across a drawing that looked suspiciously like him in his demon form

The face was blacked out but the serpentine tail, the horns, the diamonds on the neck, the side zipped hoodie

It had to be him

In shock, he scrolls back to the top of the profile and checks out the bio and name of the artist

He is greeted by a very familiar face and name

He is in your room less than 2 minutes later

“You! Y-You did this!?”

You almost drop your pad/tablet thanks to his outburst and abrupt entrance

You look at the DDD that was shoved in your face and slowly nod

You thought he was gonna blow up at you for posting a drawing of him, even though his face wasn’t in it

You are very wrong

Levi becomes your #1 source of income

The moment you finish a piece, he is commissioning you again

You worry that he’s draining his bank account because he tips you very well

But he isn’t bothered at all by it

All of your pieces are on display in his room

He also posts all of your art on his social media and tags you

Your page explodes in popularity and the commissions are rolling in from his online friends

You had no idea otakus pay so well

Mammon is very jealous of the amount of Grimm you have piling up

Satan:

One day he asks you about your hobbies and you tell him you draw

“What do you draw?”

Cue internal conflict on if it’s weird to tell someone you’ve been drawing them and their brothers since you’re always around each other

He senses your hesitation and like the smart ass he is, he’s able to guess exactly why 

“Would your hesitance be because of the subject of your art?”

He knows too much for his own good

You decide it’s best for him to see it instead of telling him

Being a fan of literary art, you were worried he may be overly critical of your fine art

He was not the type to sugarcoat anything

However, he simply smiles and hands your pad/tablet back

“You’re incredibly talented, MC.”

A few days later he asks you to tag along with him while he handles something

That ‘something’ is going to feed some stray cats he’s come across

“MC, I’d like to commission you. I’ve found homes for these cats but I want something to remember them by. Will you help me?”

How can you say no to a man holding four cats in his arms?

You take some photos for reference and make four different pieces for him

When you give them to Satan, you swear you’ve never seen a bigger smile on his face

He framed them all and keeps them on top of his bookshelves

Asmodeus:

He found out through Levi’s social media

He commissioned you for a piece of him and the protagonist of a game he recently started playing

This piques Asmo’s interest and he wonders if you’ve ever drawn him before

He approaches you when you’re in the kitchen grabbing a drink

“Hi, darling. I saw the piece you did for Levi and naturally if you’ve done one of him you’ve probably drawn my beauty as well, right?”

You decide to show him since he brought it up

He’s gushing over all of your art

No, seriously, he is praising you so much even the tip of your ears start burning from your blush

He commissions you to draw him in many different ways 

Him in his bedroom, him in the bath, him as a mermaid, him as an exotic dancer

He comes to you with so many different ideas

He tests your limits but you actually like that

Beelzebub:

Beel is rather stoic, but he doesn’t mean to be

It was his resting face and smiling was usually reserved for eating yummy food

But you wanted to practice drawing him with different expressions

Beel’s welcoming manner gave you the courage to approach him and ask if you can take some pictures of him to use for a reference

He’s shocked you wanna draw him but agrees with the condition that he gets to see some of your other work

You show him different pieces of him and his brothers and he’s smiling the entire time

“These are all so good. I didn’t know you could draw.”

He commissions a piece of him and Belphegor and one of all seven brothers

But he also asks if he can watch you draw them

You both spend quite a few nights together

You drawing and him munching on snacks and feeding you some every once in a while

His presence is actually pretty calming so you ask him if he minds staying around while you work even after you finish his commission

Beel being Beel, agrees to keep you company

The night usually ends with him carrying you to bed

Sometimes, he takes you to his bed to cuddle

Belphegor:

Belphie was actually the first brother you drew

You came across him asleep in the attic once and he looked so perfect

Your fingers were itching to draw him, so you did

It became a routine for you to head to the attic and draw him while he slept

You always crept out before he woke up

You thought he had no idea of your little practice sessions

But one day you looked down to fix a mistake you made on his nose

When you looked back up you saw Belphie staring right at you

“You know, if you’re gonna draw me the least you can do is show me.”

You try to stammer out an apology as he sits up

“Oh, I don’t care. You don’t make noise or anything, I’m just very hyperaware of my surroundings. So I know when someone is in the same room as me when I sleep.”

He moves over to you and looks at your pad/tablet

“Hm, not bad MC. Show me your other work some time.”

Then he goes back to his sleeping spot, curls up, and falls back asleep

You sit there with your pencil/stylus in your hand, trying to wrap your head around what just happened

But he didn’t seem disturbed so you continue drawing

When he wakes up you show him more of your work featuring his brothers

He asks if he can have a quick sketch you did of him and Beel 

You jokingly say he has to pay for it

He actually pays you for it

He puts it up in his room

It’s nice to see when you visit him and Beel