#i just wanted to use my marker pens again

[ploffskinpluffskin]

i had a very short period of time when i was very invested in becoming part of the webcomic scene so i joined smackjeeves and started following a bunch of different comics and nowadays i think back to them sometimes and wonder what ever became of them thinking emoji

[carolmunson]

the cars that go boom | (daddydom!sadist!eddie)

this fic isn't related to the title song reference at all, it's just stuck in my head. needed to get this out of my drafts so here's some ddlg themed sadist eddie that's been sitting in my draft folder for fucking ever and i'm sick of looking at it. tw: 18+ mdni ddlg dynamics, daddy kink, eddie being all over a cocky shit bag hottie who likes control but it's consensual, use of a vibrating toy. lots of allusions to other sex.

You watch him get out of the bathroom after his shower, tattoos stretched taught over softly cut muscles. You almost drool. He tried something new with you this week, an orgasm ban -- nearly a sex ban -- in fact, he didn't even want you to see his dick. And much like he always does when he finds a new way to torture you; he was feeling really pleased with himself about it.

'That's more than you deserve,' he hissed at you Monday night while you knelt obediently between his legs. He pet your hair while you watched TV and he jerked himself off, you were not allowed to turn around until he was finished. You pouted all night, and when it happened the next day you started pouting all week. But, the week was over, which meant your punishment was done. You'd spent all day getting ready, a long shower, smooth skin, body butter, his favorite perfume, everything you could do to feel perfect for him. You cleaned the trailer and made dinner, you kissed him when he got in the door to which he blushed and smiled.

'Hi beautiful,' he greeted you so gently, 'I missed you today.'

You watch him dress now, hair dripping while he tugs on a pair of grey sweatpants and a ratty cut off Iron Maiden t-shirt. You sulk a little. Those aren't normally the clothes he'd put on if he wanted to take you to bed, but you don't say anything just yet.

He goes to the kitchen table with a composition notebook and a collection of pens and markers, opening the beat up pages to what you can only assume is a new campaign, a new drawing of a map. You walk over while he mulls over it, adding new territory, scribbling in new lore. You let your hands slide over his shoulders.

"Hi baby," you say sweetly.

"Hi," he responds, focused on his notebook. Your hands slide forward, onto his chest, your face leaning down to his, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Whatcha doing?" you ask innocently.

"Workin' on a campaign," he responds, "We're gonna meet up on Wednesday night so I want it to be semi together."

"Okay," you nod, you run your fingers gently over his scalp, giving him a soft scratch. He keens into the touch, shoulders relaxing while he rolls his head back. You press your luck, letting your fingertip trace over the curve of his ear.

"Hey," he warns softly, "I'm tryin' to focus, sweetheart."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you apologize, but he can't see your grin. Your fingers continue to wander, giving him a sweet shoulder massage while he reads over his story. A quiet 'thank you honey', falls from his full lips while you work out the knots. You press your luck again, trailing your finger down the line of his neck that's the most sensitive to your tongue and touch. Eddie's shoulders tense and he sits up straight, turning to you with a sour pull at his full lips.

"Do you need something?" he asks pointedly. You feel heat rush to your cheeks, "Do you need some attention?"

You nod and he grins, pulling the other kitchen chair over, "Come sit next to me then, you can help."

You roll your eyes and sit down next to him, he bites his tongue at the offense, happy to get to spend some time with you like this. He gives you a chaste kiss on your cheek while you watch him work.

You barely 'help', just sitting there while he crosses things out and re-writes them. While he flips back ten pages and then forward twenty, grabbing a red pencil and putting it down for a blue pencil then picking the red back up and so on. You get restless watching him work, so you get up and grab each of you a beer. Another sugar sweet, 'thaaank you baby,' pours from him, this time deep and focused, dark and syrupy. Molasses tongue. It goes right to your thighs.

You press your luck a third time, scooting close to him, letting your hand smooth over his covered thigh and further up, skimming over his cock that was perfectly outlined in his sweats. He let's out a frustrated sigh when he takes your hand away from his crotch, gently putting it on your lap when he looks at you sternly.

"Daddy's busy, baby," his eyes look down at you, his dominance brewing under angry brows, "Why don't you go play by yourself in another room, hm?"

He turns his attention back to the campaign notebook, while you throb from being scolded. The humilation pools through you when he chastises you, eyes lingering on you while you continue to sit there. After a beat, you get up to walk to the bedroom hearing his voice as you do.

"Good girl," he teases, "Are you being a good listener?"

You look back and see his grin while he leans back in the kitchen chair, crossing his arms. His legs are spread wide under the table, cool authority flowing off of him.

"Are you?" he asks again, a smirk cracking his face as if to ask, 'Does this embarrass you?' It does, it's humiliating.

"I'm a very good listener," you respond quietly, heart dropping in your chest.

His brows raise, waiting for you to add more to the sentence. You let out an aggravated huff through your nose, crossing your arms.

"I'm a very good listener, daddy," you repeat.

"There we go," he smiles cruelly, "Go have fun, sweetheart."

'Have fun? HAVE FUN?' you think to yourself while you go to the bedroom and shut the door with a firm click, 'Fine! I'll have fun without you then! See if I care!' It's not fair that you've been quite literally begging to be fucked for seven straight days, but to go straight into teasing you like this? The type of dominance that makes you feel the most -- god -- embarrassed? Degraded? You'd rather gag on fingers and have him wipe your spit on your face. You'd rather him make you lick someone's cum out of his ass, literally anything but this.

With a huff you open Eddie's top dresser drawer and grab the Hitatchi he bought you as an anniversary gift last year. Hastily, you plug it in behind the bedside table before climbing on to bed, shimmying your jeans off and tossing them to the floor.

Your legs spread, bent at the knees, turning the toy on low and slowly lowering it onto your covered core. The hum is quiet, barely a tremble in the head of the wand when it meets the lacy fabric of your panties. A soft gasp escapes you at the feeling, it had felt like years since you'd been touched there. You move the toy up and down slowly, teasing yourself, little puffs of breath escaping you as you do.

With a click, the buzz intensifies, sliding the head upward to settle softly on your clothed clit. You whimper while your hips start to move slowly against the vibrations, the whirr of the toy filling your ears while your eyes shut. You keep yourself like this for a little, enjoying the slow sensation, the mild tease. You feel it start, like the hook looping into the first car of a roller coaster train, the first tug when the attendant hits 'go'.

“Huh!” you gasp out breathy while your hips twitch. Your lower lips start to swell against the gusset of your bottoms, slick building between them. A slow start. You savor it, a small smile pulling at your lips.

“Look so pretty like that, baby,” you hear his voice and gasp, tossing the toy next to you and snapping your legs shut. He smirks, a devilish chuckle bubbles from his chest, “Oh no, don’t let me interrupt. I said you could go play by yourself, and look at you…”

His voice raises in a lilt, while he sits on the bed. He passes you the wand and smiles, “You’re being such a good girl for me.”

“Go on,” he says with a nod, “Show daddy how you were playing.” You lean back on the pillows, opening up your legs again slowly. He glances between them, eyes flitting down to your mound briefly before meeting your eyes again, he subconciously licks his lips. You keep your legs up and bent up against your chest so he has a view, puffing out a soft sigh when you click the toy on again. He looks at you with a hazy gleam in his brown eyes, nodding slowly at you to remind you of his permission. You run it up your thigh before settling it back down on the center of your slit, letting the vibrations pulse over your entire core. "Hm," you hum out softly as your brows pinch together in a tilt. "Aw, yeah?" he coos out, "Does that feel good?"

"Mhm," you whine, lower lip tucked tight between your teeth. Yuo swallow when he reaches his hand out, smoothing over the soft plushness of your inner thigh. He squeezes, grinning when you let out a soft grunt with a twitch of your hips.

"You've been so patient this week," he purrs, "Such a good girl. Isn't that right?"

You nod hurriedly, watching his hand slide up your thigh, his index finger tracing up the hem of your underwear. It's a smooth hand off, watching his rings gleam in the bedside lamp when it wraps around the handle, both of your hands falling flat by your head. Your palms face the ceiling, matching your eyes when he turns up the vibrations. "Isn't that right, baby doll?" he asks, adding a gentle pressure up against you. Your pussy strains against the fabric the more excited you get, back already in a soft arch while you push into the mattress. "Y-yes, sir," you manage to mutter out. "No, no, that's not who I am tonight," he admonishes, still in a soft and steady voice, almost sweet -- like you don't understand anything. He takes the toy away; making you whimper, leaning up on your elbows behind you.

"You know how to address me," he says, a serpentine confidence flashing in his face, "You're a big girl, aren't you? Or do I have to teach you?"

You let out a shrill groan, head leaning back on it's hinge while your legs kick out in frustration in front of you.

"Hmm, of course," he says, getting up off the bed to pull off his shirt and slide off his sweats. His boxer briefs hug him in tight but it's there and it's missed you more than you've missed it this week, "You act like this and you don't think I should treat you like a little girl?"

You look up at him, bitten lower lip jutting out with a sheen of spit.

"So pouty, too," he coos, crawling onto the mattress between your parted thighs. He sits up on his knees, tall over your frame splayed out on the bed. He lifts one of your legs, pressing it flush against his chest so your foot rests by his ear.

"M'not pouty," you say back while his other hand reaches over your cheek with a light back before splaying over your jaw. His thumb brushes your lower lip before pressing on the dip at the center.

"Open," he instructs, you don't even think to stop yourself. You suck his thumb slow, letting your tongue lave over the length all the while. Spit fills your mouth, wet and eager, already inching at the corners of your mouth. You might as well drool. "Very good," he purrs again from the back of his throat, "Someone learned her lesson this week."

You nod, taking his wrist to steady his hand while you take more initiative with his thumb, implying what you really want.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself," he says lowly, taking his thumb from your mouth. He wipes the spit on your cheek before reaching back over to the wand, keeping your legs spread and holding thight to your thigh against his front.

Your hips shimmy when he holds the toy back in place, thumb running over the power button but not pressing down.

"Hey," he says, commanding, "Look up at me."

Your gaze snaps to his in unadulterated obedience, his distaste for even having to ask evident on his face, "You know better."

"I know better," you nod while you say it, confirming his words. "You do not ever stop looking at me," he glowers down.

"I don't ever stop looking at you," you repeat back, needy for whatever he has for you next. Your hips shimmy again, you try to stifle the whine in your throat but it comes out just the same; desperate and childish. "Oh, baby, do you need help asking for what you want?" his voice lilts, "Does daddy have to guess?" "Turn it on, please," you whisper. "Please what, princess?" he asks, voice mocking with a knowing stare, leaning down so your knee hooks over his shoulder. His chest hovers at an angle over you, chain and guitar pick dangling over your lips. "Please what?" he asks again. "Please daddy," you whine, "Please turn the toy on." "Look at those manners," he grins wickedly, "My sweet girl."

He turns it on, speed setting high with the flick of his finger. It rumbles loud, thighs already twitching while runs it back and forth over your sensitive clit. "Fuck," you gasp out, eyes rolling, "Oh my god, right there." "That's not a very nice word, sweetheart," he chastises, "What do you say?"

"S-sorr-Oh! Oh my god! Oh! -- Sorry, d--shitshitshitshit-- sorrysorrysorrysorry," you nearly cry when the cord in your belly snaps, gushing into the fabric against your core. He greedily keeps your thighs apart, watching while you come undone under him. You gulp when he doesn't take the toy away, your sensitive nerves screaming at the buzz of the vibrator. Your hips writhe and jump, trying to pull away from it all the while he's shaking his head no.

"Gotta hear that apology, princess," he murmurs, "Say sorry."

"Sorry daddy, I'm sorry," you babble out, "M'sorry I'll be so good, I'll be good." He let's out a satisfied hum, clicking the wand off and placing it gingerly on the bedside table. His hand lingers for a moment to make sure it doesn't roll off and then finds it's footing back on the mattress.

"You'll be so good?"

"So good," you nod when he settles back between your thighs. He crawls forward like a cat, pressing his hips slowly up against yours. You sigh needily when you feel the drag of his erection against you, whimpering when you see it affect him the same way. "Shit, baby," he smirks, trying not to break character while he grinds against you a second time, "Fuck." "That's not a very nice word," you tease back, looking up at him through heavy lids. "Well I'm not a very nice guy, am I?" he muses, leaning in to kiss you deeply before one hand reaches down to tug at your panties. You giggle, a sound that sends him reeling when he's in this kind of mood. "You're very nice," you whisper against his lips. "Hmm, yeah?" he growls, noses brushing while he lingers above you. He offers another roll of his hips right before he gets to work on pulling your panties down slipping them off of each ankle with ease. Undressed completely below him, he admires you. He hadn't seen you like this all week, finally getting what you've been waiting for. So patient, so willing. He runs his hands from shoulders to hips, greedy fingers digging into you rough and tumble, grabbing and kneading with disregard to comfort. "Daddy," you start, getting his attention in a voice that makes him ready to serve accordingly, "Fuck me."

A smirk splits his face, it's cute when you ask so brazenly when you're busy looking at him with those sad puppy eyes. "Please, fuck me," you reiterate while he readies himself, boxer briefs peeling off to leave him bare. Your soft gasp at the release of his cock is more of an ego trip than he expected to have, never realizing how much you truly need him like this. How you can really only get off to him, how you've submitted in every way you could. "Daddy's gonna fuck you, sweetheart," he says steadily, climbing back ontop of you, pressing your thighs to your chest, "God, m'gonna fuck you real good."

He leans in for another hungry kiss, ownership laced in his lips. When he breaks away you catch his chin in your hand, an action that makes him bristle, jaw clenching at your attempt at control.

"Fuck me like I've been bad," you request in a timbre so low he nearly melts at the sound, "Fuck me how you fuck bad girls."

He's never flipped you over so fast in your life.

[trashmouth-richie]

eddie x reader ; a very light hint of steve x reader

a follow up to this which is a follow up of this

tw 18+ content, tied up, temperature play, steve is baby girl himbo in this very s3 coded, eddie is jealous + mean.

“that tickles, wow, cold— ow, very very cold— shit, shit!”

You slap a hand over his mouth, wide eyes staring into yours as if he is scared beyond belief.

“Shhhhh..” you press a chaste kiss to the underside of his jaw. 

Your body was pressed in his, an ice cube held limply in your fingers as you traced it along his veiny shaft. Leaving goosebumps on his summer tanned skin. 

“Eddie is home, do you want him to know that we’re fooling around? Cause I prefer to keep my bedroom adventures private.”

“No, no! You’re right, it’s just— really cold, when you said you wanted to get freaky I thought maybe you had a friend or something to go up my ass? I don’t know!” 

You stare at him, waiting for him to say he was kidding but it never came. You sit up, the ice melting on your fingers dripping onto his sack, little whimpers from his mouth. 

“Alright… King Steve is curious about assplay, noted. We can unpack that another time— for now, it’s either the ice or nothing, you choose.” 

You kiss his chest, waiting for him to decide. He’s mumbling to himself, and you work your fingers in between the tufts of hair, eyes on him, your nipples skimming over his hot skin. 

“…okay! Okay fine! Can I kiss you maybe?” 

Steve was stretched like a voodoo doll across your bed, large hands tied to each bed post, unable to reach you, his lip in a pout as he attempted to wiggle his wrists free. 

“Keep trying to get out of your restraints and you won’t be kissing me anywhere.”

He huffed, a strand of caramel hair tousling into his forehead, “I mean they’re tight— like really tight, you sure this is normal?”

You rolled your eyes and sat up again to examine the human ken doll that was played by Steve Harrington for the evening. 

His wrists were red, fingers pale… fuck. 

You tug at the knots, trying to wedge your fingers beneath them, and after five minutes of you trying you could see Steve’s hands looking worse.

“Alright— don’t panic!” you announced, sliding from the bed and pushing your arms through the red silk robe hanging from your closet, “and don’t move…. I’ll be…” scissors! “yeah, I’ll be right back!”

“What!? You can’t just leave me like th—!” he hollers your name and you try to muffle his calls of distress by shutting your door quickly.

Eddie was in his room, you could hear him playing his guitar— and he prayed he didn’t hear the muffled pleas from Steve. 

Rifling through the kitchen junk drawer you find everything but the scissors. Chopsticks from too many late night orders of chinese takeout, ketchup packets, pens, a pack of markers, Eddie’s fake ID he had in high school, Wayne’s expired ID he tried to use at the gas station when you were sixteen and more rope. 

The pair of you didn’t own a knife set, never having cooked anything that required culinary skills— you were at a loss— the only option left was to ask Eddie for his pocket knife. Goddamnit.

The walk to his room felt like miles long, and honestly you would have preferred if you never got there. His door was open, the low times of his acoustic guitar filled the air along with a haze of smoke. 

A quick rap on his door and Eddie was looking up at you, cigarette limp from his lips, as he motions to the other side of his room with a nod of his head. 

“…ham & pineapple no pepperonis, cash on the dresser.” 

“What? Oh yeah, sure— forgot it’s Friday. Hey, ummm. I need a favor.” 

Eddie smirks and shakes his head, “I’m not loaning you anymore bud, you already owe you twenty.” 

“No— I’m not here for free weed, I need your knife.” 

His eyebrows quirk and he waits for you to ask his silent “why?”

“It’s an emergency.” 

“Your boss sucks sweetheart, 100%— but you can’t kill him.” 

“Eddie shut up,” you whine, stomping your foot, “I just need to borrow it—I'll give it right back!”

He rolls his eyes, leaning over to grab his knife from his back pocket, “tell me what you need it for.” 

You stare at him, mouth open, “I…can’t.” 

“Okay? and why not?”

Your name is heard in a wail from your room and your cheeks heat with embarrassment. 

“is someone in there?”

Scrubbing your hands down your face you finally admit it, “Yes! Jesus fuck! Now will you please either help me or give me the knife, he’s stuck!”

It takes everything in Eddie to try not to laugh, but he simple hides his lips and nods, thinking to himself what kid. of shit you’d gotten into now, and with who?

He follows you into your room, watching your form move beneath the silk robe, trying to keep his eyes from staring too long or imagining what lie beneath the thin fabric. 

Your eyes are covered when you open the door so you miss the shock on Steve’s face to see his best friend walk into your room. His dick is still out, laying against his hairy thigh, and the only thing he can do is an awkward jock head nod followed by a “sup?”

Thankful that he has a good poker face, Eddie nods back, ears crimson in anger, biting his tongue as he flips the blade out with flare. Behind his dark eyes He was fuming. 

Steve? 

STEVE HARRINGTON?

Of all people you could have tied up in here in some makeshift attempt at whatever you thought you were doing— it had to be him.

Heads would fucking roll when this was over and him and Steve were alone. 

Slicing through the ropes like they were nothing, Eddie simply raises his eyebrows and shakes his head, leaving with his mind grinding like gears on how to stop this from happening again. 

—

“Thanks for calling Family Video. Our hours are 10-10 Sunday through Saturday, stop in to rent our latest releases, this is St—”

“Harrington.”

“Hey man, hey— thanks for uh, helping me out the other night. I really o—”

“Yeah, you do,” the cord bounces on the floor as Eddie turns the corner, looking back at you in the living room asleep on the couch— walking to his room,  “that’s why whenever she calls… you are going to make up whatever excuse that big hair of yours can..”

“Wait..?”

Eddie grits your name out through clenched teeth. 

“If she calls to hang out, you will find a reason not to, y’ catch my drift, pal?” 

“Ye-yeah, sure thing… what should I say?”

“I don’t care Harrington, make something up… tell her you have a girlfriend, you have the measles, I really don’t give a fuck what it is, as long as I never have to walk into her room and see your dick again.”

Steve narrows his eyes, blurring the neon lights in the video store, “dude, what the hell?” 

“Sarah is single— I’ll give you her numb—”

“Okay? But so is she, why are you acting like an asshole right now?”

You. He was being a dick because of you. Sick and tired of you not willing to admit you both had feelings for eachother, and he was ready to pull out the big guns in order to make it happen. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

taglist: @likedovesinthewnd @dashingdeb16 @joejoequinnquinn @min-geniusx @ho3forfakeguys @taintedcigs @b-irock @queenimmadolla @serasvictoria @the-unforgivenn @curlyjoequinn @munsonlore @eiightysixbaby @munsonburn3r

[mindfulstudyquest]

❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝗼𝗳𝗳-𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗶 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗼 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗲-𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀 ( just pretend i wasn't gone for months guys )

between smartphones, computers, ipads, and screens everywhere, sometimes i feel like i have pudding instead of a brain and i need to engage in three-dimensional activities that don't involve staring at pixels all day, here are some ideas to get in touch with creativity and real word again.

𝟭. drawing and colouring ( 🎨 )

whether it's drawing landscapes, characters from your favorite series or simple doodles, putting the pen on the paper relaxes me instantly. if you are not good at freehand drawing or you're simply lazy, there are many coloring books for adults with mandalas (my personal favorites) or animals/natural landscapes, also online you can find many drawings to color that you can print. in discount stores you can find packs of colored markers at a great price, after all we don't need to be professionals.

𝟮. puzzles and diamond paintings ( 🧩 )

i recently discovered diamond paintings and i'm obsessed with them, on amazon you can find many sets with amazing designs and composing them is really relaxing. having something to focus on for a few hours a day is really essential, puzzles are perfect for this purpose too.

𝟯. reading and writing ( 📚 )

this is a more challenging activity, when we are burnout the last thing we want to do is use our brain, but reading a good novel or writing down a few pages in your journal can distract you from the present moment and give you a bit of a break while still keeping you productive. every second spent reading or writing is a second invested in your personal growth.

𝟰. experiment with outfits and makeup ( ✨ )

i have a lot of clothes but zero outfits, my favorite activity is decluttering my closet, putting away things i don't wear anymore and experimenting with new styles. also sitting at my desk and trying new makeup that's different from my usual eyeliner and mascara, i find it so fun and it's a great way to reconnect with my image when i've spent a month stuck in my room studying.

𝟱. cooking and baking ( 🧁 )

i'm not a good cook and i've burned more cakes than i care to admit, but i have to say it's terribly fun and therapeutic, especially if you're cooking with someone. u think anyone who cooks professionally hates having a second person in the kitchen with them, but when friends make a cake (ugly but tasty) and then eat it together in front of a cup of steaming tea - now, now, that's real therapy.

𝟲. working out, dancing, doing yoga ( 🩰 )

put on some music, dance in your room, follow your workout routine, lay out a mat and do stretching or yoga, connect with your body after being locked in your mind, physical activity is very important to keep your mind fresh ( mens sana in corpore sano ). if you can, go to a park, or an open space, just be careful of excessive stimuli.

these are some of the things i do, feel free to comment on your de-stressing activities.

[todayimfour]

AGERE SOOS!!

BECAUSE I CANT HANDLE HOW YALL HAVE IGNORED MY BOY

And headcannons because mwah I love you 💕

I feel like he'd just describe his regression as "having some kid time"

Okay so no set age range, he's just a kid! Sometimes he's younger than others but he's fairly self sufficient.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't want to be babied!! And his regression is absolutely triggered (positively) by important people doting on him.

Grandma made cookies? "Sweet!! Thanks granny :)" Stan nodded approvingly at a repair he did? An almost silent "yuss"

He absolutely made a copy of Stan's hat out of paper and got really sad when the marker he used made the paper wet and thin so it didn't stay up right, but then he got the idea to use red construction paper and oh yeah it's coming together now!!

He's got one of those pens with a bunch of colours and uses it to doodle little ninja dudes on sticky notes, they're all cutting fruit and he leaves the sticky notes everywhere.

Also it's fun to take apart and put back together as a fidget.

"hey dudes I found this pen with like- nine different colors. I could draw so many fruit ninjas with this- like apples or strawberries or.. hey I need to look up more fruits!"

His regression isn't very noticeable if that makes sense? Like he's just so openly regressed like half the time that no one bats an eye when he does something childish because 'thats just how Soos is'

He's got a favorite cup and it's an off brand snack cup that has the spot for your snacks built into the lid. Stan bought a bunch for the store with the mystery shack logo and one had a defect so he let Soos keep it

He uses it basically every day, all the time, everywhere. "It's just so convenient!!"

Throughout the series (or I guess as summer progresses) Stan gets closer with Soos and I think this plays into Soos's regression in a positive way. Stan doesn't exactly become his caregiver but he watches for Soos, makes sure he's doing okay and draws with him from time to time.

(⁠人 ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ•

The board was made using PicsArt! None of the art was mine it was all found on the app!

Side note, for anyone curious, I'm still not really back from my hiatus. I'm trying to front more, I really am. Dennys is still the host for now- I was just supposed to front for a little bit and then I saw that Gravity Falls was kicking again on Tumblr so I had to make this. Have a great day/night!! -Ghostly

Tags!!! Aaa!! I have a taglist now I guess :D

@nottapossum @grauntiemotersblog

[fabdante]

my first piece colored for the @zutaracoloringbook !

the lines were done in clip studio paint, the color in marker, colored pencil, gel pen, and paint pen. with some minor digital touch ups after scanning.

you can color this piece for yourself for free! it's in this years @zutaracoloringbook , go pick yourself up a copy! there's tons of beautiful pieces in it including this one, all for free!

under the cut, for anyone interested, im going to ramble a lot about the process of this one because i just have a lot of thoughts asdfghjk the tldr is: this is not at all how i expected this piece to look, i fell asleep working on it at one point which is just wild to me, and 'ooo pretty colors'

i've sat on this one for a little bit and im still not sure how i feel about it? i like it but it's also not at all how i expected the color for this piece to look asdfghj

i originally thought the palette would be darker but after printing the piece i realized, given the lines were not as dark as they would have been if they'd been drawn traditionally, that i'd drown out the lines with that color scheme.

i also made a lot of little mistakes ranging from using colors darker then i wanted for shading to at one point Literally Falling Asleep While Coloring With Black Marker, thus leaving a black spot on the page that I then had to work around.

the paper also was a double edged sword. i did not print on marker paper or artist paper, which usually is not an issue with me. i know most marker artists will strangle me for saying this, but i have never drawn on marker paper? like ever? i taught myself how to use marker on mixed media paper and i have rarely used marker paper since. i've just never felt a need? contrary to what people have said, i've never seen any like abnormal wear and tear on my markers doing this and i, personally, just accept that markers are going to bleed. it's not my enemy it's just part of the medium. it's what markers do. they're a wet medium even on paper made for wet mediums they will bleed out and often bleed through a little bit. i learned how to work around that and use it to my advantage. this paper however, the markers didn't bleed at all? and they dried so fast it made maintaining an even texture and blending like i normally do a challenge. it just didn't have a lot of give? HOWEVER the color pay off was CRAZY like the colors are so vivid and bright and rich. like, i made my own color chart for my markers on index cards and then i would often test the colors on scrap paper of the same paper to confirm what the colors going to look like but when i would use colors on the piece itself they were always darker, richer, brighter, and just all around way more vivid. which makes the piece very nice to look at, admittedly asdfghjk. so paper pros: fantastic color pay off like crazy color pay off, paper cons: I Don't Know How To Blend.

for anyone wondering why i didn't print on marker paper: firstly, i don't have any this size. secondly, marker paper tends to be pretty thick and not super malleable so i didn't think it'd be safe for my printer. likewise, i didn't think any of my other paper would be either. so i decided to do what i did last year which was use a fancy paper stock i had that was printer safe for my printer paper so it's not just regular thin computer paper.

some of these technical issues i blame on being out of practice, i haven't worked in marker for a minute and this piece involving such large scale blending was a bit ambitious especially on unfamiliar paper (learning how to blend with markers i find is just a lot of practice with your particular markers to know how they behave while also knowing your paper). but im also just confused because i feel like the paper behaved better when i used it last year and with my self portraits asdfghj im wondering if i just printed this on the wrong side? more testing is in order before i work on my next two pieces dfghjklfghjk

so, anyway, i might try to color this one again because i don't know how satisfied i am with it. like, i like it, but also it just doesn't feel correct. i might do it digitally or i might do it traditionally, we'll see. but im not going to try again until i finish the other two i need to color. i think this stems from the fact that i just feel like the palette was meant to be different then the one i ended up with so it just still feels incomplete to me. we'll see how i feel, though, when i finish the other two.

anyway, if anyone read all of that, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[sturnsreader]

scars

TW: self harm

!! requested by @sturns-posts !!

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

“y/n?” you heard your boyfriend, matt, call from upstairs. you sighed and made your way up stairs to find matt on his laptop. you walked around the corner and smiled walking up to him.

“yes matty?” you asked cheerfully.

“are you okay?” he asked sounding concerned.

“yeah, why?” you asked confused at by the sudden worry.

“well, im just worried about you.” he sighed. you noticed that he kept looking back down to his computer screen to making glances at your arms.

“you would tell me if you weren't, right?” he asked.

you gulped wondering what he knew.

“yes, baby, please dont worry about it.” you nodded quickly before turning back to go downstairs.

he grabbed your waist and pulled you back into his arms playing with your hair.

“are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again repeating himself. you nodded into his chest before he pulled you back leading you into his room. he didn’t say a word, just sat you on his bed and opened up the screen. on the left hand side of the screen was a recent picture of you in mcdonalds that a camera man had taken, on the right hand side was the same photo just zoomed into your wrist. your scars visible for the world to see. you read the headline over and over in your head sighing.

'HAS TWITTER TROLLS PUSHED MATTHEW STURNIOLO’S GIRLFRIEND OVER THE EDGE?'

“what is this? you told me you stopped a while ago and if you felt like that you were going to tell me. did i do something wrong?” he asked pointing to your wrist on the screen with teary eyes. you couldn't speak, your whole throat had closed up.

he noticed and pulled you onto his lap staring into your stinging eyes.

“i love you so much and i want nothing but for you to be the happiest girl ever. i let anyone hurt you. whether they're old or new, i don't care because i'm here for you now and i always will be." he smiled before kissing your forehead softly. a tear escaped your eye making you smile.

“we don't have to talk about this now, whenever you're ready.” he smiled resting your head onto his chest as he wiped the tears off.

| 2 hours later |

“hey, i know you wanted to go to the cabin back in massachusetts, so were going with nick and chris tomorrow morning!” he said with a smile while tucking your hair behind your ear.

“baby, you didn’t have to”

“shh, i wanted to.” he said as he hugged you around the waist.

you waited at least 10 seconds before letting go. matt’s hugs were the most comforting thing ever. “can you help me pack, please.��

matt shook his head up and down with a big smirk while grabbing your hand and walking downstairs to the bedroom.

“oh, how long are we staying.”

“since were with nick and chris we are staying for a week and a half, but soon we can go alone.”

he was digging through the closet trying to find a bag big enough before you made him stop.

“i love you so much.”

“i love you more, my love” you could tell he meant it. “we are going down to nick and chris’s house tomorrow morning at 4 am. i know its early but i want to get there earlier, if its okay with you.” he said right after he found a perfect suitcase to fit all your stuff.

| two days later |

“hey babe i was scrolling through things to do here and there is a tattoo parlor like five minutes away from us can we PLEASE get tattoos together!” nick said excitedly.

“shut up you have been rambling about tattoos the whole time we-“ chris said as you cut him off.

“nick i would LOVE to get a tattoo with you and i know exactly what i want. follow me!” you said as you go to find matt in the store.

“im getting a tattoo with nick and i just want you to draw stars around my scars.” you say while going through your purse to find a pen.

matt looks at you in awe as he takes the marker and draws the cutest stars ever. you start to tear up. you look up at him as he concentrates on drawing them all.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

not my best work but i tried 🥲🥲

i hope you enjoyed and if you have anything you need to talk about message me! i love you guys sm🩷.

[nomazee]

open up

sebastian (sdv) x reader

word count: 3.5k

content: silly love again, mutual pining, not actually unrequited love, some goofs and giggles and misunderstandings, the teeniest tiniest inkling of angst but it’s covered up with silliness, the word hussy is used which is the funniest word ever and i’m so glad i discovered it it’s so old-timey-small-town word

notes: this is a part three to my little mini series w sebastian! you can find part one here,   and part two here! 

oh hey guys this is probably completely indecipherable but i’ve been rewriting this over and over again this past week and decided that this is my most proudest version of this work and maybe there will be more but this... is IT (i’m lying and will be writing more companion pieces to this okay much love love all of u mwah) 

<><><><><>

Hiding from your problems does not fix everything. In fact, it doesn’t fix anything. 

It’s a lesson you should’ve figured out the first time you did it. You remember being back in grade school, forgetting to study for a test one year and faking a rash in the nurse’s office to get out of it. The rash in question was a collection of the healing, scabbed-over cat scratches on your forearm. You’d drawn over it harshly with dark red pen and marker to create some kind of rash-like illusion. In the end all you got was a disappointed look from the nurse, an ugly smear of red and burgundy on your arm, and a D-minus on your world history test. 

So, yes. Hiding has dreadful consequences. And even just during your time in Stardew Valley, you should’ve known to keep this lesson close to your heart. This is the second time you’ve run away from Sebastian already, and the first time didn't last long anyways. Stupid, silly you. 

In your defense, it wasn’t really Sebastian you were running away from. It was his mom. For three days following your stupid kissing shenanigans, Robin terrorized your dreams, and your daydreams, and the reflections of yourself that you saw in the tiny pond on your farm… 

So, yes it’s safe to say that running away was not doing you any good. But what other choice did you have? 

You’re an adult. You could totally scrape apart what’s left of your dignity and act like it—maybe take the walk up to the mountains and apologize to Robin and Sebastian, too. Tell them that it was wrong of you to be so promiscuous on their front porch (promiscuous, of course, equating to one single kiss on the lips that lasted no more than ten seconds), and that you’d never do it again and never even look Sebastian in the eyes, if that’s what they wanted.

While you’re at it, maybe you’d be able to ask Robin for the coop upgrade that you’ve needed for weeks now. All you have to do is… be an adult and face your problems. Your one massive roadblock of a problem. 

It’s not even a problem, per se. But you’ve embarrassed yourself far too much in front of the people in this town and you’re a little tired of taking blow after devastating blow to your reputation. You’d rather wilt and rot here, on the soil of your farm, with your duck walking her webbed feet across your chest and leaving damp marks all over your shirt. 

This is peace. This is where you could die, decomposing in your leftover humiliation from the week before. But of course—all good things come to an end, and the end comes to you in the form of a distinct lack of wheat seeds in your storage containers. 

Dreadful. This is a sign from some higher power that it’s finally time for you to get your ass up and go into town. Face the world like an adult. Get your wheat seeds so that you and your animals don’t starve to death and rot away on this already-rotting farm. Ugh. 

Your duck pads up your chest and leans her face into yours. Her beady little eyes stare right into your soul. She’s begging you. Begging you to get wheat so her plump little body doesn’t start to deteriorate. What a manipulator. 

A heavy, bone-rattling sigh escapes you as you gently push her off of you and sit up. This is it. You have to face everyone, again, after embarrassing yourself in front of the stupid boy you like and his mother, of all people. Fortunately for you, they live up in the mountains, so a little trip to PIerre’s in town wouldn’t be so much of a risk. You’d be fine. You could still be a functioning adult, so long as you didn't wander up north where the mines were. 

…

Okay, well. You lied to yourself. 

It was all a big lie. A big lie you told yourself to feel some kind of security about leaving your stupid, lonely farm and going into town and getting the stupid seeds that you needed. You’re a liar, a fraud, and a chronic-problem-avoider, and none of those problems would ever get fixed during your probably-very-short-lifespan. Short, of course, because you were going to die in the middle of Pierre’s shop, right here and right now in the produce aisle. 

Because of course, as luck would have it, Sebastian is right there too. Staring at you. Holding two unshucked ears of corn, in his hands. You would laugh at how silly he looked if this wasn’t so humiliating. 

“Um.” He’s the first to say anything. Hearing his voice after a week startles you enough to make you stiffen even more and your shaky hands threaten to drop the seed packets to the floor. His eyes are wide and there’s a flush to his cheeks that might be from the leftover chill of the outdoors. Despite everything, you hope maybe it’s because of you instead. 

You can’t form words. Your mouth flutters open and closed like a trapdoor until you decide to keep them tightly shut. Devastating. Humiliating. Mortifying. There are so many words that you’ve used so often over the last two weeks that you could continue to use here. Your vocabulary is not very expansive in the slightest, but it’s not your fault you’ve been put in the same types of scenarios so often. 

“Hello,” you choke out. Surprisingly, your voice is steady for the most part. The rest of you is not. The seeds rattle in your hands and you can feel your legs locked up. Anxiety floods through you like ice water and freezes in your bone marrow. You’re stuck. You might throw up. Again, this is a very common theme in every interaction you have with Sebastian. Very unfortunate. 

Even more unfortunate is the fact that, despite all the embarrassment and chagrin and overall-horrifying matter of events, you still want to kiss him. You’re reliving the ten-second kiss from the last time you saw him and it’s making you enter some parallel universe in your head—one where his mom didn't catch you kissing, and where he liked you back and maybe let you sleep over his house like he said he would, and where you could kiss him even more. You’re getting whiplash from everything running through your head. God.

“I, um…” he clearly feels just as awkward, which does nothing to reassure you. “Haven’t seen you in a while. We thought you’d… show up to the saloon, or.” Sebastian cuts himself off early. He must realize by your completely unmoving form that you’re not planning on loosening up at all during the course of this conversation. 

“Right, um,” you scramble for some kind of excuse but you know that regardless of what you say, he’s gonna know. He’s not gonna believe a single thing you say, because he knows. He was there. He was the one that you kissed. 

There’s no way he’s not completely aware at this time. Totally and utterly aware that you’re indescribably in love with him, more than infatuated. He must know that you like him so much it makes your chest hurt and your head ache with the untamable need to kiss him stupid every time you see his face. He must know. You’d risked it all, laid it open on the table for him last week when you kissed him and he didn't do much with it, really, which was fine but—he must know. After all of this. 

A thought rushes through your head and it immediately heats up the ice in your bones. You’re moving, now, this time at a pace that can only be achieved by spontaneous ferocity and a phobia of the mother of the boy you like. You’re quick to act, lunging forward and grabbing his arm to pull his entire form behind the shelf. 

“Is your mom here?!” you whisper harshly at him. You didn't even think of it until now, the fact that he might be here with his mother and that would mean you’d have to face her not on your own terms. A confrontation would start up in the middle of this quiet, quaint little grocery store, and you’d have to yield and nod at an angry ginger woman as she called you a hussy, or something. Or— no, Robin wouldn’t call you a hussy. She was too nice for that. Pam would call you a hussy, probably. Well. 

The distress in your voice must come out clearly enough for him because he frantically shakes his head and whispers back a definite no! It’s too late to reel you back in, though, and your mind is already going a million miles a minute. If you’re going to do anything, you have to do it now, because otherwise you will never speak a single word to this family ever again. 

“You— Please tell your mom that I’m sorry, like so very very sorry, and I will give her so many of my crops and hardwood and stone to make up for everything. And—” you shush him when he tries to interrupt, talking over him rapidly to stop him from trying it again, “—I didn't mean to— or, I did mean— um, point is. Tell your mom. I’m so sorry. And that I really need a coop upgrade and I’ll pay her double what it normally is to make up for everything.” You pause. “Please.” 

Sebastian is. Speechless. It’s not often that you see him like this—in fact, you don’t think you’ve actually ever seen him like this. His mouth flutters open and closed. Trapdoor, just like you, earlier. The shared traits between both of you make you want to throw up and scream. It’s too endearing and you want to rip your heart out before another situation happens just like last time, this time with Pierre as your witness. 

“What…” he begins, “are you talking about?” The furrow in his brow is one of genuine confusion, and so is the high-pitched lilt of his questioning voice. It only serves to make you more confused. And more agitated because this is really really embarrassing and the heat of it is starting to settle on your face and neck. 

“What. Do you think. I’m talking about.”

He obviously does not get the hint. He stays quiet, expression frustratingly unmoving as he blinks once, twice, three times at you. Holy shit. 

“I’m not going to say it,” you tell him. Any kind of confidence you had going into this conversation has dissipated and melted into a gooey kind of embarrassment. Suddenly, you’re back in the grade school nurse’s office, flinching at the disappointed look she gives you as she writes you a pass back to class—back to your impending doom and the D-minus that awaits you. This is that. This is worse than that by ten— no, a thousand times. 

“Are you five years old? What are you talking about, just say—!” 

“You are so embarrassing.” You hiss at him, but there’s really no weight in your lackluster insult. It’s more of a half hearted attempt to get him to stop talking about everything and anything, at least until you get out of this goddamn store and maybe even this goddamn town where everyone likes to gossip. 

You nearly tear the stupid ears of corn out of his stupid hands in your rush to get out of this store. “Are you— Is this the only thing you’re buying?” At his nod, you grab three more packets of miscellaneous seeds and start your rushed walk to the counter to check out. 

“What are you doing?!” His voice is a frantic whisper, matching your tone, but it’s less aggravated and more just genuinely confused. Sebastian seems dazed, threaded into the spinning loom of your contagious anxiety. You feel bad about it, really, but you’re threaded right next to him in an aggravating bright yellow string, and it’s hard to untangle yourself. 

“Please shut up,” you mumble, and then you’re at the counter and ignoring Pierre’s worried look as you pull crinkled dollar bills from your pockets. The transaction is fast, thankfully, and the cost of Sebastian’s items doesn’t set you back too much. Before you know it, you’re gripping part of his hoodie sleeve and dragging him out the door behind you. 

The chill of fall hits you when you step outside. A foggy breath escapes you as you gain the courage to turn back at him. “You. Need to take these to your mom,” you thrust the stupid corn back into his arms and he catches them, thankfully, “and tell her I’m sorry. And pretend everything never happened. Tell her I’m. Really super very sorry.” 

“I don’t think you— I’m. Not sure I understand,” he counters you, hesitant but determined in the way he keeps going, “she’s not mad at you. Why are you apologizing? I haven’t seen you for a week and now…?” 

Aw. Maybe you should find it sweet that he seems at least a little bit upset about not seeing you, almost like he missed you. That delusional thought is muffled by the stress of everything you’re talking about, though. 

“Hussy.” 

“What?” 

“Um.” There is no coming back from this. “Does she— Do people say that here? Does she. Think I’m a hussy.”

This is a ridiculous conversation. Every single interaction you’ve had with Sebastian, ever, has been ridiculous, and this is doing nothing to disprove that. You’ve actually going to puke. You know, it’s been just a joking threat these past few weeks, but this time you’re really going to vomit all over his stupid skater sneakers. 

He’s dead silent, startled into submission by your words and you can’t even blame him. Who says the word hussy?! Why did you think anyone would call you a hussy?!?! 

“I kissed her son in the dead of night right in front of her house,” you speak slowly and clearly, forcing yourself past the utter mortification that freezes your fingers and makes bile stir in your stomach, “and you’re saying that she doesn’t, um. That she’s… not mad.”

There is no coming back from this. Again. You’re grasping for either reassurance Sebastian’s mouth does that trapdoor thing again. You contemplate dropping all your seeds and running. Maybe the birds will like them. 

“No. You just left me on my porch.” And he’s upset. At least a little bit. It shows in the incredulous tone of his voice and the way his lips stay parted in disbelief. You did, unfortunately, leave him on that porch that night. He’s not… wrong about that. “And then avoided me for a week. You didn't even come into town at all. Abigail and Sam told me they never saw you. Did you never leave your farm just so you wouldn’t see me?” Hurt. He’s hurt, not just upset.

Now you just feel stupid. You didn't even consider the implications of kissing someone and then running away and never seeing them again. In your defense, it wasn’t because of him, more because of his mom and the very likely (read: completely inaccurate) prediction that Robin would beat you up on sight. 

“No!” You’re frantic to clear things up, but judging by his doubtful expression you’re going to have to do a lot to reach that goal. “That’s. It wasn’t on purpose. It was embarrassing.” It’s probably still the wrong choice of words. His face flinches and he glances to the side in discomfort. You’re losing him. You’re so, so bad at this. No kidding. That’s why you kissed a guy in front of his mom and almost threw up on his shoes, like, twice. Three times. 

Maybe if you put it into perspective. “How would you feel if you kissed someone in their front lawn and then their mom came out and caught you guys kissing and on top of that, what if you were the new person in town and everyone still kind of maybe doesn’t like you completely, and you just ruined your reputation by kissing somebody in front of their parent?” Okay. Effective. 

It’s quiet. He’s blinking at you. You get that response a lot whenever you speak to him, really. Maybe that’s a testament to your eloquence. (It’s really not.) 

“And,” you keep going, because of course you do, “you never visited me, never sent a letter, nothing. Nobody came to see me. And. I kissed you and then you said nothing and. What was I supposed to do?!” 

It’s what you’ve held back for a week now. Really, you weren’t expecting him to show up at your house and confess his undying love for you. A kiss is just a kiss. But if he was going to bring up the whole never-seeing-him-again thing, then you could do that too. 

“You.” Trapdoor. He stutters and falters and lets out a sigh that deflates all the tension in his body. “My mom. Wants you to come over for dinner.”

Okay. Well. What the fuck does that mean. 

“I want you to come over for dinner,” he clarifies. The furrow in his brow is one of certainty instead of confusion. His eyes meet yours, and stay locked for as long as his inner anxieties allow before he’s looking to the side and avoiding your wide-eyed stare. 

Oh. Okay. That’s what. He means. 

“Well,” you say out loud, because you’re an idiot and can’t ever control the words that spill out of your mouth. “Then. I would really love having dinner with you.” It’s supposed to come out determined, assured, maybe even a little flirty. Instead, it comes out awkwardly and stilted and you think you might be making a weird face at him on accident. The message clearly gets across, though, because the subtle tension in his face dissipates and he’s starting to smile at you. His stupid, awkward, tucked-in smile. You will yourself to not kiss him in the middle of the town square. 

He mumbles a hazy “yeah,” and for a moment you think he sounds almost… dreamy. Lovestruck, maybe. Of course he’s not, because he’s Sebastian and you’re the farmer (th farmer that kissed him, and he kissed back, and now he’s inviting to his house for dinner, but. Well. That’s besides the point). It’s wishful thinking, but you still can’t help the way your eyes trail across his face and down and along the seam of his lips and. There’s the craving to kiss him, reignited, stirring deep in your chest and stomach and in the twitch of your fingertips. 

“I guess that means we have to make plans for it,” and there’s some odd deeper meaning in his words, and his eyes are flitting to the side before coming back to you again. His lips twitch in something close to mischief, but not quite. “I guess that I should come over. To talk about plans.” 

You’re smiling. You try to resist it, scared you’ll look stupid with how wide you’re grinning but you can’t help it and now you’re smiling with teeth and pressing a giggle back down your throat before you start shrieking in joy. “I think you should. I think I should walk you to my house and talk about. Dinner plans. Totally dinner plans.” Sebastian’s eyes flit to your lips for a moment, a devastating, knee-weakening palm-dampening bone-rattling moment. You’re very certain that you didn't imagine it in some infatuated haze. The corners of his lips tuck into that smile you love so much, too much, and he lets out a breathy sort of laugh. ��Dinner plans.” 

You walk him home—to your home, this time. There’s seeds in your right hand and the two ears of corn in his left, and your proximity as you walk makes it so that your hands brush together slightly with every step you take. His hands are dry from the cold. You don’t tell him that. 

And you two don’t hold hands on the way home, because that would be silly. Because you’re just walking him to your house, to talk about dinner plans. There’s a bubble of unspoken things around the both of you, but there’s something between the looks you share with each other that makes you stop caring so much about saying things. You’re not very good at that, anyways. 

You show him your favorite duck in your coop, the one you want Robin to upgrade, and then your cool cheese press machine that accounts for half the money you earn from your farm. He’s finally introduced to Kitty, who yowls at him once before padding up to him and biting his calf. You tell him it’s her love language. 

And you talk about dinner plans. Or. Well. Who are you kidding. You kiss him silly. Silly and stupid in your kitchen, tugging on the sleeves and cuffs of his hoodie and then the hairs at the nape of his neck and then his fingers, trailing your own against his palm in circles and spirals and heart shapes that you’re almost embarrassed to be making. Almost. But not really. 

You don’t really have the time or mind to be embarrassed, really. Not when you’re dizzy and warm and giggling into the lips of the pretty boy you’re in love with. And, not when you’re busy making dinner plans, of course. 

[devoutekuna]

Daddy daughter date

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

A/N- Gojo's part is from my previous blog

Sukuna-

He didn't actually count this as a daddy daughter date, since he was just left at the house with her, opting to head to a restaurant since his cook wasn't in. "I want that daddy" pointing to the dish on the menu, her face gleaming with happiness as she wore her favourite red dress and matching shoes. Her father did seem as happy though, slouching in his chair as he waited for the waiter. "Anything else?" He asked as she carried on pointing. "And that, and that" he was gonna order it all, he hoped that she inherited his love for eating infinite amounts.

Soon as the meals came precut, she was already devouring it, napkin tucked into her dress so that she didn't get it all messy, especially as it was a gift from her father. Hands getting all grubby from the sauces, she clearly took her father's mannerisms when it came to eating. Watching as she ate with no elegance, a mirk sneaking onto his face as he also stuffed down his food but with a little more patience.

Nanami-

Nanami loves the countryside, so when he had the opportunity to go there, of course he took his family. His daughter being the main priority since you were still trying to get used to the place.

Sat outside on the various fields, blanket peg ed down to stop it from blowing away, with the help of their bodies and the picnic basket sat ontop. "Cake!" Pointing to the small unopened box full of Madeira cake. "How about a sandwich first?" Grabbing one out as he handed her the wrapped up cheese sandwich. "Can I have cake after?" Asking before she took it, she wanted to save room in her little stomach for the desert. Nodding in response. "If you eat your fruit too" throwing the small packet of varied fruit towards her lap.

Watching as she scoffed the poor sandwich and fruit down, she sure was eager to get to that cake. He loved spending time with his daughter, but sometimes she rushed it, especially when it came to homemade food.

Geto-

He isnt going to take his daughter out to a place where most non sorcerer hang, opting for a peaceful time inside his house, it was big enough to fit all his needs and wants, so why would he even try to leave it. Resting on floor as he waited for his daughter to come back with some colouring pens, he was planning on spending a day in with his daughter doing some random stuff like using the colouring books he recently bought as the cake baked. "I got them daddy!" Running as she carried the varied colours, her little dress flowing with her speed. "Don't run you may trip" laid on the floor as he sat up, his daughter plopping herself right next to his legs as she grabbed the colouring book. "I will use purple, you use red" nodding as he took the red marker, starting by running the colour along the paper.

Toji-

He's not the biggest fan of plays, he finds them boring and a waste of time, then again he wasn't into theatre in general, so he was pretty annoyed when he found out that you couldn't take his daughter to the theatre. Sat scowling at the play, he thought it was stupid but she loved it, sitting eagerly at her seat as she waited for the play to start. "Look daddy! It's starting!" Shaking his arm as she pointed to the stage lighting up with spotlights. Nodding in response, he loved to see his little girl happy. "Shhh" telling him to shush despite not even talking, trying to hold back his smirk as he used her head as an arm rest, she didn't even mind as she was too engrossed into the play.

Gojo-

Satoru adored his daughter, doing anything to make her happy even if it meant emptying his wallet for a plushies shed forget about in a matter of days. "Papa! I want it" the white haired girl pointing at the claw machine filled with marine animals plushies. Her little blue frilly dress blowing in the wind, which matched her father's zip up fleece and baggy jeans. Looking down at her as he took his hands out of his pockets.

"You want the plushie?" Confirming as he picked her up, her little hands cupping his cheek as she pointed to the specific white seal which stood out to her. "I want it! Papa" kicking her legs at his torso as she sat on his arm. "I'll try my best" smirking as he put her down, knowing that he'd get her that plushie no matter what. He was already down £20, already stressing as he tried to get that stupid plushie, if only she wasn't so demanding on which one she wanted, maybe if she chose one closer to the exit hole it would've been easier, but this one was in the very center, not even moving an inch closer as it always dropped before the exit hole was even in site.

"Are you sure you want this one?" Trying to persuade her, he was sick and tired of it, having to stand around as his daughter tugged on his jeans. Plus he was supposed to be meeting you in 15 minutes.

"I want that one! You promised." Pouting as she realised that she would never get it. "Are you really sure?" He didn't want to be doing this for so long. Nodding as she almost started to tear up, sighing as he took out another note, feeding it into the machine as he focused on the plush toy. After a grueling 20 minutes at the machine, he had finally gotten it, the way she shot up as soon as she saw the seal fall into the hole. "You did it!" Hugging his leg as she was too short to give him a proper one. Stuffing the empty wallet into his pocket as he picked up the seal, he never wanted to see that machine again, it probably gave him wrinkles from the stress.

[starlightrosa]

Battleships

Summary: Charlie and Angel are playing a game of Battleships. But not with pen and paper. More like marker pens, and ticklish backs as their papers. Just so happens that these ticklish backs are property of Lucifer and Alastor.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Tickling, swearing, Angel Dust's unique humour, a bit of depressing talk concerning Alastor's mum (Alastor do be a mama's boy and he big sad) but mostly fluff <3

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another day in the Hazbin Hotel, and there was a very obvious mood of mischief. Ticklish mischief, to put it much more obviously. There seemed to be tickle fights breaking out every hour between Charlie and Vaggie, Niffty was running round and tormenting whichever unlucky soul was within reach with her feather duster, and even Husk was sneaking in a few underarm tickles whenever Angel Dust was too close to the bar.

It was driving two certain people in the hotel up the wall, but for two very different reasons.

Lucifer was one of the affected. He had woken up craving to be held. Or cuddled. Or tickled. Hell, the king had no idea what he wanted relating to specifics. But damn it, if he didn’t get some form of human touch in the next three minutes, then the world was going to end.

Alastor was the second affected by the ticklish mischief ravaging the halls of this rinky-dink hotel. But Alastor thought this playtime was silly. It’s Hell, who spends their afterlife trying to tickle someone else, where every day was utter torment and suffering punctuated by the wails of the eternally damned and the screams of tortured souls? That was a background noise Alastor preferred, to see lost souls drown in an ocean of failure.

But the radio demon could not dwell on his preferences. He would be busy soon, for that charming Charlie had planned a little board game tournament of sorts in an effort to build trust among the hotel patrons. A silly idea, but Alastor didn’t think there was any benefit to crushing the princess’s feelings, so he kept schtum for now.

The crazy tickling vibes from earlier seemed to have petered out. Yet in the hotel’s lobby, Angel Dust and Charlie were locked in a fierce game of something Charlie called ‘Battleship’. Their hastily drawn paper grids and pencils lay in wait, the pencils pointed at each other like military-grade weapons.

“E6.” came Charlie’s voice. Angel laughed, picking up a blue marker and putting a big ‘X’ on that coordinate.

“Missed again, twinkletoes.” Angel crowed.

“Shit. Your go.” Charlie said, waiting for Angel’s guess. The alluring arachnid sinner thought for a bit, before making his guess.

“A4.” Angel guessed. And if the loud groan from Charlie hinted anything, seems Angel had scored a point, or did something right. Alastor wasn’t quite sure how this game worked.

“Ugh, fuck! Hit.” Charlie groaned, picking up a red marker and blotting it with a crimson ‘X’. Angel pumped one of his many fists in the air, no doubt in a victorious manner, or for a quick bragging right. One of the two.

“Hot damn. I am unbeatable at this game!” the spider crowed, looking much too pleased with himself. Alastor rather thought that this game, while simple, did indeed look a bit fun. Not as fun as actually destroying something, but… close enough. And it wasn’t just the radio demon who had heard this game. Lucifer knew what Battleship was. But he didn’t dare come down, for fear of making his obvious lee mood even more obvious, and the markers Charlie and Angel were both using was sure to drive Lucifer crazy with want.

But the princess and spider sinner had seen the way both had been acting. Lucifer’s shaky and nervous demeanour, compared with Alastor trying to be aloof and uncaring like always in an effort to mask his curiosity at the game they were playing was a rather funny thing to see indeed. And Charlie made this known to Angel, with both setting up for their next game, fresh sheets of paper and newly sharpened pencils at the ready for their grids.

“We should get my dad and Alastor in on this game, Angel. I think they’d enjoy it.” Charlie whispered quietly, the princess barely masking a smile of her own. She wasn’t stupid; she knew the tells of her father in a lee mood, namely because she did mostly the same thing when she was in one herself, from the nervous glances at wiggling hands to refusing to look at anything that could even be vaguely considered as a tickle tool.

“Oh yeah? Good idea, Princess. Your dad would go for it, but how the hell are we going to get Alastor in? Does he even know this game?” Angel asked.

“I think Vaggie and me having all those tickle fights has… kind of made my dad want something similar, if he hasn’t been wanting to be tickled since he woke up. Alastor is always smiling, but he needs a genuine smile. So here’s my plan…” the princess said, highlighting the fun parts, while Angel listened carefully.

“We’re gonna make them our game boards. You and me, Battleships. Red marks for hit, blue marks for miss. I know my dad has a ticklish back. I don’t know for Alastor. I know he’s ticklish, but he would never say where. So let’s have some fun with this.” Charlie giggled. Angel had a hint of mischief in his own mismatched eyes. This was going to be entertaining.

Late afternoon soon gave way to evening, and as the moon came up into the crimson sky of Pride, the pentagram sun descending down for another day’s end, Alastor and Lucifer finally came into the hotel’s game room, seeing paper and pens dotted about. Alastor sent a barely disguised joyful look at Lucifer’s muffled whine, seeing so many markers strewn over the room.

“Ah! There you guys are. We’re just about to get started. Me and Angel are gonna play Battleships.” Charlie explained, gesturing to them both to sit on the floor, which both men did happily. Lucifer watched Charlie draw her grid, while Alastor was on Team Angel, watching the spider scribble his own grid.

“Why do we need to be witnesses for this? This seems just like a two-player duel.” Alastor pointed out. His question did have merit, and Charlie barely concealed a laugh as she quickly screwed her paper up and tackled Lucifer to the floor. Before Alastor could even laugh at the daughter of the king taking down the monarch so fucking easily, a similar weight slammed into the radio demon’s own back. Alastor gasped and fell forward, twisting his head quickly to see what the fuck had happened, only to see Angel’s grinning face above him. Oh, those cheeky little shits.

“Angel, what is the meaning of this?!” Alastor demanded, doing his best to wriggle. But his demands were silenced, because with a brisk snap of Charlie’s slender fingers, golden rope twisted gently around Alastor and Lucifer’s wrists, tugging both pairs of hands up and out of the way.

“Sorry, Smiles. Me and Princess Charlie are gonna play our game of Battleship. You and FancyPants over there get to be our game boards, so yay for you guys~!” Angel explained, a wide smirk on the spider’s features as he took a seat on the back of Alastor’s thighs, Charlie doing the same with her father.

Both Charlie and Angel worked to quickly pull the jacket off each of them, and rolled their shirts up, exposing the skin underneath. Lucifer’s porcelain-white back awaited Charlie, the king already shivering with barely-repressed laughter, and Alastor’s scarred back was presented to Angel.

So many scars, hot damn. Angel traced a couple of the thicker ones absentmindedly, to a choked back snort from Alastor. Well, this was not how the Radio Demon expected the night to go. One could definitely confirm that this was NOT on the bingo card.

“Hah, ya sound like Fat Nuggets.” Angel teased, referencing his beloved pet pig, smirking down at Alastor.

“Oh shut up- Mmph!” Alastor began to demand, but he snapped his mouth shut as he felt the cold tip of a marker gently trace on his back. From what he could feel, Angel seemed to be drawing a grid of sorts. Charlie seemed to be doing the same, and judging from the noises opposite, Lucifer was already giggling and doing his best not to squirm.

“Oh, you got a ticklish back, do ya Smiley? Shit, how the hell are you gonna last this game?” Angel laughed.

“I ahaham gohoing to dehestroy yohohou ahand thehen-!” Alastor threatened, but his threat was cut off by a shrill squeal from Lucifer, and then rapid pounding as the king’s boots hit the floor rapidly, the king giggling freely. Alastor knew his back to be fairly ticklish, but by the sounds of it, Lucifer’s had to be far worse. The thought of that almost made him feel bad for the king. Almost.

Charlie and Angel rested their markers down on each side of their ‘game boards’. Red and blue, one on each side. Both Lucifer and Alastor’s backs were drawn on to mimic a Battleships grid, from letters A to J, and numbers 1 to 10.

“You’re goin’ down, princess.” Angel laughed. Charlie sent a mischief-laced smile back his way to the spider sinner.

“In your dreams, Dust.”

And with the fighting words out of the way, the game officially began. Charlie had the first call, at Angel’s insistence. Or as Angel put it, “Ladies first and all that shit.”

“C3.”

Angel located the spot – at the top left side of Alastor’s back. He poked softly, and pinched a few times. No reaction from the Radio Demon, not even a wobbling smirk. With a disappointed tut, he picked his blue marker and drew an ‘X’ into that spot on Alastor’s back.

“Miss. In return… F2.”

Charlie nodded, finding that spot – top middle of her father’s back, at the top of his spine. She pinched that spot and poked softly. Lucifer gasped and broke into squeaky giggles. Because his hands were tied up, as were Alastor’s, the king nor the radio demon could even dream of moving.

“Hit! Nice, Angel.” Charlie smiled, picking up her red marker and drawing a red ‘X’ into that spot. “My go. Umm… I’ll say H9.”

Angel nodded and looked down at Alastor, noticing the eternal smile now had some kind of nervous look to it. Angel pinched at the annotated spot on Alastor’s back, enjoying the radio demon struggle under the spider.

“Damn, nice shot Princess!” Angel laughed. “Looks like he’s ticklish as fuck here.”

“Angel, I’ll kihihill yohoHOU! Stohohohahap ihihit!” Alastor tittered, squirming side to side. Angel Dust couldn’t help but laugh, grabbing the scruff of Alastor’s collared shirt to avoid being tossed off.

“Jesus, it’s like I’m on one of those bucking bulls in the bars downtown.” Angel joked, steadying himself atop Alastor’s back with a few ruthless side squeezes before the demon could get a chance to throw him off.

“AH! Ahahangel, I’m gohohoing to rihihip yohohour tongue ohohout!”

“Stop laughing first, Smiles.” Angel shot back. “Oh wait. Ya can’t, cause you’re too ticklish~!”

“Alastor, you aren’t in a position to make threats anyway.” Charlie teased, as she awaited Angel’s next guess.

“Let’s go for D1.” the spider guessed. Charlie found the spot quite easily, anyway, unleashing another series of quick fire pokes. Sadly, nothing from Lucifer despite the huge lee mood that plagued the king.

“A-Ah… oh good, I’m okay.” Lucifer whispered, shoving down his smile.

“Missed, Angel.” Charlie said.

“Ah, fuck. Well, if I missed him, I gotta kiss him. Pucker up, Daddy Morningstar~” Angel joked, enjoying Alastor’s muffled snickering and Lucifer’s panicked babbling at that idea.

“I don’t think my mother would appreciate that, Angel.” Charlie laughed, the melody of laughter in the room bringing a huge smile to her face. It was nice to see everyone enjoy themselves. “My go. So let’s try one spot up. H8.”

“Real original.” Angel joked with a playful eye-roll, even as he moved one square up and pinched and poked that spot on Alastor’s back. Alastor couldn’t help it, and a deer’s squeaking noise left his mouth.

“Nice, Charlie. Hit!” Angel announced, drawing a red ‘X’ into that spot on Alastor’s back, which Alastor would argue tickled more than the actual poking bit itself. And the fact that Angel was very slow in drawing the crosses themselves just made everything that much more maddening.

Lucifer and Alastor would never admit it, but both men were actually having some semblance of fun. Lucifer was happy his daughter involved him in this game, even if it was at his expense.

Alastor did enjoy the fun and mischief this place offered. In a way, this was probably something his mother would have done, had they both been still alive. Alastor’s heart ached painfully at the thought she was in Heaven and he couldn’t see her, or talk to her, or to be held in her arms a final time.

By the time this fierce round of Battleships ended, both Lucifer and Alastor’s backs were covered in a plethora of red and blue crosses. Alastor had red dotting both his top and lower back, and blue in the middle.

Lucifer had many more red crosses, and only a smattering of blue marks over his obviously very ticklish back. Both men were panting slightly by the time the game was finally over.

“Well, this was fun.” Charlie smiled. Angel nodded.

“Aw hell yeah, toots. We have to do this again.” Angel smiled.

Alastor was quick to loudly protest. “NO!! Not again, I forbid it and-!”

But a series of skittering fingers along his upper back shut the radio demon down quickly, and Alastor was floored, his normally reserved laughter giving way to squeaky giggling. Oddly adorable.

“Round two, Angel~?” Charlie asked with a smirk. Angel’s mischievous grin clawed its way back onto his face.

“You read my mind, Princess.” Angel responded sweetly, both princess and sinner looking at Lucifer and Alastor with a shared evil grin. And after the necessary cleaning time to wipe the grid off Lucifer and Alastor’s backs (only for the grid to be drawn back on each of them) the laughter from the hotel carried on well into the wee hours of the morning, the battleship duels between Charlie and Angel Dust raging on.

The End!

[babygorewhore]

Giving spirit.

Tate Langdon blurb.

18plus only! Fem reader. Smut. Period sex. Extremely little plot. Not proofread because I just needed to get out how horny I am for Tate.

You decide to give Tate a Christmas present. Tate wants to show you how much you mean to him. Extended version of my period sex with him.

You knew Tate normally hated Christmas. It was just another reminder of his eternal existence in the Murder house. You weren’t a ghost like him. Tate refused to ever hurt you. You were made of glass to him. His little Doll. But you weren’t, you often reminded him over text as you browsed the mall for perfect gifts for him.

You selected a variety of things, different band shirts, CDs and finally a sketch book with several pens and markers. Tate had taken to drawing lately and you wanted to support his healthy coping mechanism.

When you came back to the Murder house, you were immediately greeted by Tate and he pulled you in close.

His arms tight around you, cheek rested against your head and you felt his heartbeat. “Hi to you too,” you laughed and returned the embrace.

You pulled back. His brown eyes searched yours for any sign of trouble. “You were gone forever.” You shook your head at him, cupping the back of his head and toyed with his curls.

“I was not. Besides, I had to get the perfect gifts for you.” You teased.

“Baby, I told you I don’t need-“ You pressed a finger against his lips, feigning frustration. Tate quickly took in the digit past his lips, holding your wrist and he sucked.

You squealed, pulling back and ignoring the flutter in your core. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs before other ghosts annoy us.”

You both settled in the bedroom, sitting across each other on the bed. Tate was mostly silent as you laid out your purchases across the blanket. Grinning, you looked up to meet his brown eyes. They were glassy and he toyed with the sleeve of his sweater.

“Nobody’s ever given me a gift before, baby. But-they’re perfect.” Tate held up the CDS, before rising from his place and putting them in the stereo.

He removed his shirt, exposing his slender figure but strong muscles flexed as you swallowed. He looked back at you, “What? I have to try on the shirt. To make sure it fits.” He said with a smirk.

Two could play at this game, you thought. You stood too, picking up his discarded sweater and putting it on. “We can play dress up.” You said, raising your eyebrows.

Tate’s smirk grew and his eyes darkened as he took you in. Standing close enough to touch shoes. He twirled his finger, signaling you to spin around. “Mmm. You look so perfect, princess.” You ducked your head down, bashful but Tate lifted your chin up to meet his stare.

You pulsed between your legs as Tate caught your lips. His soft mouth warm against yours, his tongue darted out and set itself inside. Your hands flew to his head, gripping his hair and his were secure around your hips. You could feel him hardening against your pelvis. Reminding you of an uncomfortable reality.

“Wait,” You pulled back dreadfully. “I-I’m on my period. I thought I’d be done but I’m not yet.”

Tate leaned in again, kissing you harder. “That doesn’t bother me, is this okay?” You moaned, managing a low yes as he guided you on the bed.

You landed on your back and Tate hovered over you as he pulled down your skirt and underwear with the pad attached. “Fuck. I need you, I love you so much.” He licked a stripe up your neck before sucking your pulse point, peppering open mouth kisses on your collarbone. You starting grinding against his knee that was inbetween your legs. Your skin growing hotter as Tate’s long fingers settled above your pussy. “I don’t even need to spit,” He paused and looked down at you. “On your cunt.” Before he spat in your mouth.

His pointer and middle finger circled your clit, enough pressure to make your back arch, your head pressing against the bed. You whined as he teased your entrance, before settling again in the center. His callused fingertips adding more sensitivity. “I’m-I’m sorry-for getting blood on you.” You gasped.

“I don’t fucking care about that. I just need you.” He smashed his lips against yours in a searing kiss. Marking you.

He finally slide his fingers into you, curling them upward. Blood giving him extra slick and you bucked your hips wildly. His knuckles kissed your clit and you felt like you were going to explode. “Fuck me,” It was too quiet for him to hear. You cupped his face. “Tate, please fuck me. I want-I want you to cum in me.”

He didn’t hesitate for a second, his aggression disappearing and morphing into desperation. Tate practically threw off his jeans and boxers, lining his heavy, pre cum leaking cock against your pussy.

You almost screamed when he pressed into you, skin slapping against each other as he fucked you deep. You inhaled sharply as he pulled out, his dick coated in a light layer of blood and wetness before slamming back in. You clawed at his back, still covered by his shirt that you were too fucked to pull off.

Your stomach tightened, your pussy clenching around him as he thrusted so hard that headboard slammed against the wall. “Baby-I’m gonna-“

Tate hovered over your mouth, his own whimpers and moans filling the air as rock music played. “Cum. God, please. I need you to cum around me.”

Immediately after, you stilled and your eyes rolled back. You came hard, sweat dripped down your forehead into your hair. Your mouth was open before your eyes squeezed shut.

Warm cum spilled inside you as Tate’s thrust grew sloppy. His head in the crook of your neck as he slowed to a stop. Your legs were still around his hips. He got up, quickly grabbing a towel and cleaning himself up. Then you. You felt light, fucked senseless and slightly sore. Tate must have known the discomfort as he helped change into comfortable clothes.

Tate adjusted you on the mattress, laying behind you. He covered you both with the blanket, his hands soothing you as he kissed the back of your neck. “You okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah, baby. You didn’t have to do all this. I’m okay. I’m just-“

“Fucked out?” He chuckled and you elbowed him. “You were so thoughtful to me…and I love being with you. I love you more than anything.”

You tightened your hold on his arms and allowed yourself to enjoy this moment.

Tagging moots. @xxhellfirebunnyxx @scene-and-dandylover @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @elaine-in-the-membrane @icannot3 @slvt4jamesmarch @reidsbtch @taintandviolent @lithium80sblog @alittlesil

Technically this could be considered a short fic. But I don’t do short fics lol. So I call it a blurb.

[icolo]

hi everyone!! my wrist is too sore to draw today, so instead i thought i'd share some of my favorite csp assets + how i like to use them! i also linked some procreate brushes at the end of the post!!

lineart brushes:

SU-Cream Pencil: i swear by this brush and i use it very often!! if you lower the pen density and use a gradient map over it when coloring your drawing, it has a nice effect. that's what i did in this drawing here! i also use this brush like i would draw on paper, so as a sketching tool. recently i've been enjoying blending it for shading. the pics below are drawn on one layer; left is more manga style while the one on the right is from a WIP of my singer sargent study, so it can be used for more realistic styles pretty well!

Found Pencil: another pencil brush that feels really nice to use, created by @/pigpenandpaper.

PS style brushes: a recreation of photoshop's (i believe) default brush. very versatile and also blends well!

analog wind variant pen: a nice pen that i like to use for lineart that is intended to have a bit of a sketch look.

zakutoro real g-pen: i used it for the lineart of this piece. although, it was drawn before i started using 600dpi in my works, so the lower resolution might make it look a bit unclear.

sets of rough pens: great for manga lineart with a rougher vibe; some of them have varying line weight.

coloring brushes:

zaku brushes: very nice and painterly mixing! i definitely recommend it for those who like to leave their colors a bit unblended.

softie marker: as the name implies, it's very soft! i like to use it for blush in chibi illustrations.

analog watercolor brushes: realistic-looking watercolor brushes. i recommend using it with csp's default paper textures, or those i linked below!

993 coloring pen: it's very soft and watery, though it can be made more solid by adjusting the paint density. i actually think it works very nicely for lineart too.

rock dog pen: another soft marker brush i like, that i once again also use for lineart and doodles.

thick coating brush set: recommended for paintings that show brush strokes.

cartoon cloud: don't let the name narrow your vision!! this has to be one of the BEST brushes for painting in my opinion, and of course it's great for clouds and explosions but so so much more!! and it's FREE try it try it!!

decoration/miscellaneous brushes:

neon pen

paper textures

symmetry move brush

close and fill without gaps

rope brush

sphere fisheye guide

flash balloon

speech bubble set: a lifesaving collection for comic artists!! dimensions and line weight can be adjusted by using the operation tool.

gradient map to use in color mode at 15% and another gradient map to use at 20%: the percentage refers to the opacity of the gradient map layer, but they are just the creator's recommendation and i tend to actually increase it. to use gradient map efficiently, i recommend putting all your colors (and lineart if you want) in a folder. then, right-click the folder, select "new correction layer" and then "gradient map". this allows you to modify the gradient map without worrying about affecting the original colors in case you decide not to use it in the end. to import a gradient map from your downloaded csp assets, click the wrench icon next to the name of the gradient set that's currently in use, then select "add gradient set".

you'll also notice that the creator recommends to use their gradients in "color mode". of course, this is also only a recommendation and i suggest trying as many layer modes as you like! to change a layer's mode, simply highlight the layer and click on "normal" (the default mode) and csp will display the available modes.

fruit ninja gradient map: fun to use if you want really drastic/vibrant colors! the names of the gradients are cute too, as you can see in the above screenshot!

BONUS: jeremy fenske's free photoshop brush pack: these aren't csp brushes per se, but they can be imported into the program! excellent for environments, i recommend watching fenske's video on how he uses the brushes to get a clearer picture since there are so many in this pack!!

BONUS 2: my good friend clem has a few brush packs for procreate that are ideal for painting,decorating drawings, and y2k-inspired illustrations, i definitely recommending checking out her shop!

in conclusion i hope this post can be helpful to you!! i tried to explain how to use the brushes as best as i could, but feel free to let me know if anything is unclear!! i hope you will enjoy using them! :D

[blacklegsanjiii]

hi! i love reading about all of the au's you've done but I've really been enjoying the young!sanji and I was wondering if you could give us some head canons or just more stuff about him! your work is amazing and I hope you have a wonderful day or night!!

Young!Sanji is fun when you dive into the nitty gritty of it, by fun I mean uh...now everyone is realizing why Sanji acts childish sometimes.

Sanji, as we all know, doesn't have the best emotional regulation. The crew noticing Sanji swallowing every bit of emotion that isn't "productive" (happy, excited, fawning, protective) because he doesn't know how to. Zeff didn't really try to teach him because he treated him like the age he looked and not the age he was. And Judge wanted his kids to be emotionless monsters.

Sanji is seventeen, never played a day in his life, does most of the chores, does all the cooking, does watches and his crew after finding out how old he is have to form a plan to uh...not have him do all that. Robin is motherly so she takes the initiative as they're leaving to help Sanji more actively even if Sanji protests and refuses. Robin is helping him with dishes and he keeps insisting she go relax and she asks him when the last time somebody read to him was. He shrugs off the question with a 'he's too old for that' and a big smile. Robin argues she reads to Luffy who is older than him and Sanji just hunches his shoulders and when they finish up Robin takes him to the library and reads to him.

Zoro also starts telling him the kitchen is closed to him some days. Sanji huffs and Zoro tells him if everyone else gets days off so should he and he should go draw with Nami. Because Jinbei and Franky are handling the cooking. Sanji is then hauled to Nami, who is already up and has a seat set up next to her at the drawing table. Luffy's markers out as well as her drawing pens and she smiles at him and says to join her. He agrees, reluctant but thankful she's thinking of him. They draw for a while until Nami notices he's drawing the dishes he makes and while well done, not the goal.

"Why don't you try drawing something not related to cooking?" She asks. Sanji blinks at her as Nami shows him drawings of the crew she's done in a sketch book, of places they've been.

"I'm not as talented as you, Nami-Swan! I'd rather draw what I know." Sanji flatters as she frowns.

"That's not the point, Sanji. Don't flatter me just to put yourself down. We all got to act like kids before, except you. You should be able to act your age." Nami says.

"I.. don't know how. I've always been treated the age I look. After what happened with my family before Zeff, truthfully I don't want to know." Sanji responds.

"You're seventeen. Luffy became our captain at that age, he's nineteen now and look at him." Nami points out with a broad gesture. "We all got to be kids, what's so different about you? Why can't you be a kid even if it's a little late?"

"I literally don't know how. It's uncomfortable, I hate it. I'd rather go back to everyone thinking I'm twenty one again." Sanji mutters. Nami sighs heavily and looks at the boy beside her, drawing a bowl of pasta.

"Can you draw the All Blue for me?" She asks, Sanji gives her a look of confusion but does look as requested. The next day when he goes into the galley he sees it stuck on the fridge with magnets next to Luffy and Chopper's drawings and smiles to himself.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Best and Worst of Both worlds (part 8)

tw: like nasty living conditions implied

vote on da poll below ill start writing after 20 votes, next chapter will b focusing on monty

part 9

You can't do it. You can't say no to Yves without going through mental hoops. So you sigh as you let him conquer your room.

You had posters of your favorite artists, but they were all lost in the clutter long ago. It reemerged dusty and damaged, but Yves repaired it the best he could. It looks decent enough to hang.

You watched him cover his mouth in contemplation as he looked around the room, trying to figure out the best place to hang it.

Yves has done more for you than everyone else combined in your life. He cleaned, he cooked, he took care of your sickness, he cleaned you, he fed you, and now he's decorating your room to make it more habitable. All of this and you never said a word, neither protest nor request. You just let him do his thing.

From what you read in the group chat, he also replenished your section of the fridge with groceries.

Your housemate took a picture of the things he bought, all of them were labelled with your name. His handwriting is black marker ink undoubtedly beautiful.

Your housemate did warn him that you're not one for cooking, the perishables could potentially go to waste. He replied that he will be visiting over for the next few days to make your meals. One of them even broke the landlord's rules and gave him a spare key to the front door.

Eventually, Yves found the perfect places to position your posters' forever home. Who knew just the strategic placement of some piece of laminated paper would elevate a room? It looks much better and oddly bigger now... well maybe the latter due to his cleanup.

He clasped his hands and admired his work. As he should.

After that, he turned to you. Which made you jolt out of surprise.

"It's been an hour and a half. Do you still want to eat?" He asked.

You checked the time. He's right, it's now half past eleven. You're not hungry anymore, so you told him that you're full. He nodded and left your room again.

Your housemates blew up the group chat due to another wild Yves sighting around the house. Is this how it's going to be from now on?

This time, you received a picture of him portioning the leftover congee in disposable containers. He has his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing his lean forearms. You're surprised to see that they were riddled in old scars. It was captioned: "He's freezing the rest"

You squinted and it looks like he's weighing them on an electronic scale. There's a marker pen in this picture.

You sent a message to the group chat asking if he's using his own items.

"I think so??? Idk i have never seen these containers b4" "well theyre not stained yellow yet, he has gotta have these brand new" "yea n hes using rich people sharpies, like none of us here can afford it, all of us get offbrands"

You wonder if he managed to fit them into his handbag.

Yves came back into your room, explaining that the congee will last up to 3 months in the freezer. He also walked you through the steps on how to reheat them by yourself, using the microwave or otherwise. Yves told you not to worry if you couldn't remember what to do, he wrote it down and attached it to the containers- or you could call him instead.

You nodded and waited to see what he would do. Yves seem to be doing the same thing to you for the next few seconds. Eventually though, he deem that you didn't need anything from him at the moment.

"I have to retrieve something from my car." He informed you, walking towards his bag and fishing out his keys. He checked the contents of his thermos cup, it's empty. The metal straw clanked around the walls as he picked it up and carried it with him.

You paid no mind to your housemates' frantic messages enquiring about his departure. You're too tired to care anymore, and you're too tired to know if you actually wanted him here or gone. It's nice to have company for once, but it's from a questionable source.

So you tucked yourself under your blanket and curled up into a ball. Hiding your head under your pillow so you wouldn't need to see Yves when he comes in.

You heard footsteps. And sure enough, Yves is now breathing the same diseased air as you.

But this time, he says nothing. Yves flicked the switch to your lights off and set whatever he has down on your desk.

There was a long period of silence accompanied by the soft sounds of typing. A dim glow from his computer screen illuminated his face and reflected on his reading glasses. He's logging in all the events, the observations and other pieces of data he collected from you today.

Yet you're not awake to see any of it. Blissfully sleeping and snoring away as Yves kept you company throughout the night.

__

You woke up the next morning feeling much better. But still not as healthy as usual. You should be fit enough to go to the university today.

Yves is gone and so are his belongings. However, you found a handwritten note addressed to you on your night stand.

"Your breakfast is in the fridge. Look for a mason jar with your name. It is ready to eat. -Yves"

You stretched and yawned, crumpling the paper and shooting it into the trash can.

You peeled the blanket off yourself and set your feet down onto the floor. That was when you realized he left something on the foot of your bed.

Another note resting on top of a set of neatly folded clothes and a bottle of sunscreen.

"The weather today will be reaching 90⁰F/32.2⁰C, take care of yourself and avoid the sun. -Yves"

The clothes he picked for you were the ones you forgot you had. It was breathable and cooling, but in your daily, personal style. He must have found it yesterday when he did your laundry.

You carried it in your arms and walked to your door to see yet another note- this time it was a folded A4 sized paper, attached to your bag, which looked noticeably lighter and... newer.

"I do not recommend leaving yet. But if you do, I packed an umbrella for you. Please wash your water bottle regularly, it is growing mold. Your bag was full of unnecessary paper scraps, wrappers, food crumbs, and other garbage. I had to hand wash it as I found a dried house lizard pressed between a dictionary and a magazine. Some of the notes and textbooks you carry were not even required for this semester or the next, hence I kept it away on your shelf. Your bag had holes at the bottom and was already falling apart at the seams. I sewed the best I could, but replacing and upgrading is the better option. Be mindful of your belongings.-Yves"

Your face became bright red after reading the last line. You never asked him to do this for you! Why is he judging? He chose to stick around! You don't like being told you're pathetic, directly or indirectly!

Did he really have to underline the word "mold" more than thrice? And why did he switch to red ink for that one word?

You took a deep breath and sighed. Exiting your room to pay a visit to the bathroom.

You were taken aback by the cleanliness. It looked like how it was in the listing, shiny and grime free. The shampoo and soap bottles were arranged neatly with no trace of dark sludge coating it.

There is another note stuck to the mirror.

This time, there were crude drawings depicting penises urinating on your name, no doubt vandalized by your housemates. You went ahead to read what Yves had to say.

"To (name), I replaced your toothbrush as that too, was growing mold. Pay attention to your hygiene or else you will be prone to sickness.- Yves"

There were hearts drawn all around his name, no doubt the culprit was your housemate who took a liking to him.

After taking a shower and changing into your new set of clothes, you left the bathroom to eat breakfast in the kitchen.

You opened the now pristine fridge and sure enough, there is a mason jar with a sticker of your name on its side.

You rotated it to see that he has written something else:

"Banana chia pudding: Chia seeds, almond milk, banana slices, vanilla extract, maple syrup, granola. Gluten-free and lactose-free. Do not heat, eat as is."

You're not sure how to feel about the taste, texture and temperature. It is "sick people" food after all. Perhaps you liked it, perhaps you don't. But you are definitely grateful that you have a free meal from Yves.

One of your housemates entered the kitchen, she greeted you as she began preparing her own meal.

You asked her what time Yves left.

"Beats me. His car was already gone when I woke up at 4am to take a piss. He did leave us a note though."

You asked her what she meant by that.

She shoved her hand in her pant pocket and handed a crumpled piece of paper to you.

"I will visit at 6pm, please take care of (name) for me. -Yves"

You asked where did she find this note.

"Next to the light switch in the living room" She cracked open an egg on her skillet.

You looked at the wall clock. It says 12:03pm

You have around 6 hours left before Yves comes back. There is nothing much to do in your house because the Internet runs at a snail's pace and there is no air conditioning. So you would be boiling in your room.

You think you're well enough to move around and you definitely do not want to spend time with your housemates.

You don't have to go to the university, since your exams are over and so are your classes for the semester. But all the study spots, including the library, have air conditioning.

[maxipad031]

hey girl! i loveee ur account! can we get a best friends to lovers fic please? Shuri and reader are like 20, and reader realises she isn’t straight because she starts crushing on Shuri.<33

i like you silly

synopsis: fluffy and short fic where you start to realise your growing crush on your best friend, shuri. you don’t know where she stands, but she soon lets you know and you begin to understand yourself more.

contains: shuri x black reader, cute crushing, fluff, brief sadness, make out session, best friend to lovers x

and thank you smmm!🥰

novacane by frank ocean blasted in your sony headphones as you bopped your head continuously to the beat, your hand moving rapidly as you scribbled down equations for your calculus homework. it was literally due the next day and you'd forgotten all about it until your friend reminded you like 30 minutes ago through a lengthy text explaining how she lost it. your room was flipping messy, clothes on the floor, on the bed, heaped upon your vanity chair. the curtains were basically closed but there was a peak of natural light as your purple LED lights dominated the room, making it glow a soft lilac. something about purple just put you in a focusing mood, so yes your room had to be covered in it. just as the song was about to change, it stopped abruptly, and you shifted your gaze over to your phone, confused. sighing, you realised a call was coming through and when you saw who it was, your heart leaped in your chest.

my shuri <3

was displayed on the rectangular screen and you hurriedly fumbled everything away to pick up your phone to answer, crunching the papers under your weight in the process. as you clicked the bright green phone button, her breath taking voice came through into your headphones, loud as fuck.

"y/n, are you busy?" she asked softly, waiting patiently for your reply. you glanced at the phone, your homework underneath you and your phone again, "nope!" you answered, maybe way too excitedly.

"ah perfect, can you meet me at café moon in 10?"

"of course shuri, ill be there." you assured, packing away all your papers and into their designated folders, "is everything okay though?" you asked, realising its unusual behaviour for shuri to be calling you randomly since she's always busy with her tech projects.

"oh yeah, i just want to see you, make sure you're okay." she replied, her voice laced with some kind of additive that made you want to hear it all the time.

"okay, see you hunnie buns." she didn't reply straight away, but you cut off the call as you didn't want to hear her reply to your bold action anyways. well, to be honest, it wasn't even that weird because in your....friendship, you called each other lots of things like bae, darling, love, honey. it didn't really mean anything....or so you thought. you disconnected your headset and slipped it off, resting it on your oak desk as you attempted to make your dorm room look at least a little presentable, just in case you both came back here. shuri was used to your room being a mess though, she always says "it adds to your character, " with that silly, cute eye smile she does that makes you want to just give her pecks all over her face.

your mind often wavered like this and at first it was just subtle, cute scenarios you'd imagine before going to bed, but now it's just full blown delusion, things that would never happen between the two of you; i'll leave that up to your imagination.

you'd always identified as a straight individual since all you did were date boys in high school, but after meeting shuri, all of that went straight out the window and you've only been able to look at her: everyone else is blotted out with a black marker pen. she's in the centre of your thoughts, running around in your head rent free. you'd never really had close friends, so you orignally thought it was your clinginess that made you so drawn to her, constantly wanting to be around her at all times. however lately, it didn't make sense that you'd been feeling this way for this long, almost two years now. you usually lost interest in other friends you had but this was different, it was so clear now,

you fucking liked her.

it was a hard pill to swallow, the fact you were probably bisexual...or a lesbian? actually no, because you genuinely had feelings for the guys you dated, so you're probably bi...you think? whatever, labels confuse you and you don't care about them. right now, you're shurisexual and that's all that matters.

you sat up on your bed to look in the illuminating mirror as you ruffled your tangled curls, to the left, to the right, just everywhere until it looked nice and presentable. you were already wearing a large purple hoodie, so you just replaced your booty shorts with baggy ripped jeans. quite motivated to look nice, you picked up your makeup pouch from the vanity table and began to touch up your face, only a little concealer and lip gloss. once that was done, you cleaned your room further, stuffing your disorganized clothes deep inside your closet and kicking any loose objects under the double bed. with a deep sigh, you grabbed your phone and the keys from the drawer before heading out, making sure to lock your door securely. you walked quickly past all the loud kids occupying the dorm hallway, and rushed down the spiral stairs to basically sprint outside. as there were no cars coming at that moment, you crossed the quite busy road and ran down to the café shuri had told you to meet her at.

by the time you arrived, you were huffing and puffing as you tried to catch your breath. you had no idea why you ran but it was probably due to the fact you were so eager to see your best friend again after like two days. the cafe’s large glass windows exposed it’s interior. it wasn’t that busy and looked calm as always, everyone minding their own business studying or talking. as you grabbed the door handle, you eyes flickered to a familiar presence . it was shuri, sitting on a high chair that was facing the window, which faced the street, and seemingly engrossed in something on her phone as she scrolled. you walked in and the bell above the shop door rung at your arrival as shuri’s head whipped in your direction. you adjusted your hair behind your ear shyly and watched as she flashed you a bright smile while you walked over towards her.

“heyy ma, how is my darling.” she greeted, wrapping her long arm around your torso as you hugged each other. her embrace was comforting, you never wanted to let go. unfortunately, you had to depart from her and when you did, you sat down on the high chair next her.

“shuri, you forgot about me for two days, huh.” you scolded jokingly, as you crossed your arms and fake pouted.

“you know that’s not the case y/n.” she laughed at your fake act, taking a sip of coffee that she just ordered, “do you want anything to eat or drink?” she asked in a caring manner as her hands nestled in her lap.

“nah i’m alright, thanks though.” you played with the hem of your hoodie subtly as you grew nervous under her gaze. this was such an unusual feeling, you were normally the one making people shy, not the other way around. she nodded and rested her elbows on the shelf-like table before you both. she stared outside for a minute, her sharp jawline flexing as her eyes travelled. she has recently cut her curly hair and it was shaved at the sides, leaving the top sitting nicely and dropping over her forehead. the day she sent you that selfie pic of her freshly-cut hair, a tear ran down your leg; it was so attractive on her and she definitely knew it. you were beginning to understand that you didn’t wanna be her, you wanted to be with her. she wore a purple tracksuit this day, kimoyo beads wrapped around her slender wrists and her sunglasses propped up the middle of her forehead. she clicked her tongue softly and spun the chair around to face you,

“i have something to say.” she announced. your heart jumped and skipped and hopped before falling back down into your ass. you knew she wasn’t going to say what you thought she was going to say, but it was nerve wracking nontheless.

“go on.” you said, eyes wide open in anticipation.

“i’m going back to wakanda in two weeks.” shuri replied, playing with her glowing kimoyo beads as her eyes darted around the small cafe, avoiding your eye contact.

“wait what, why?!” the corner of your lip twitched with disappointment.

“my brothers funeral, i must be there.” she said, smiling weakly as an emotion of sadness washed over her eyes simultaneously. seeing her grieve for her brother broke your heart into a million pieces and you wanted to do nothing but comfort her. you slowly reached over her lap to cup her cold hands in yours. you massaged it lightly as you looked up at her, “that’s totally fine shuri, i’ll be here waiting for you.” shuri shifted her gaze to you and you swear for a split second it was a look that said, “i love you so much,” but it also might’ve been your imagination. she gave you another hug, squeezing you so tight, you had to tap her shoulder for her to soften up a little, “you don’t know how much i appreciate you y/n.” she sniffed a bit as she pulled away from you, holding her head up ever so lightly so stop any welling tears from escaping.

“hey, why don’t we go back to mine.” you suggested, pulling her up off the high chair. seeing her upset broke you and you wanted to cheer her up as soon as possible. shuri grabbed her now cold-coffee with her free hand and nodded her head as she obliged. you both stood up to leave and you led her out of the shop. the sun was blazing above and you instantly regretted wearing a big hoodie. shuri seemed to notice your discomfort as you constantly pulled at the neck of the clothing,

“you should come to wakanda, you’d die if you wore something like that outside.” she commented picking up the pace to walk beside you, her infamous eye smile displaying itself and making you melt as you stared at her.

you chuckled before replying, “take me then, i’ve always wanted to go.” you unintentionally held her hand as you crossed the road together. shuri paused and stared down at the interconnection of your hands; she didn’t pull away but held on tighter instead. you didn’t even notice the small act of affection as you scanned the road, careful you both didn’t get hit.

“alright.” shuri whispered under her breath, seriously contemplating to take you with her.

~~~

“how dare you plus five me, what the fuck!” you yelled, as shuri aggressively put down a blue +5 card. you two had resorted to playing uno flip and right now, she had you fucked up. she’d never played it until now but boy did she pick up the game fast, she even knew tactics to stop you from winning.

“sorry but i’m not letting you win.” shuri smirked as she watched you reluctantly pick up five cards from the deck when you previously had two cards left. the game resumed and you stared menacingly at her, your competitive side really coming out. shuri had four cards left whilst you ended up with seven from picking some up. she put some reverses, which skipped your turn, but just before she put down the second to last card, you yelled out UNO before she could realise and you cackled maniacally, picking up two cards to give to her. shuri quickly realised her mistake and shook her head, “you didn’t even tell me i had to say uno when i had one card left.”

“yes i did? that’s the point of the game.” you arched your eyebrow.

“you didn’t.”

“wanna fight?” you asked jokingly, putting your cards to the side and pretending to pack up your thick hair.

“like you’d win.” shuri rolled her eyes and cuffed up her sleeves as she put her cards to the side as well.

full on ready to actually wrestle with her, you leaped from your side on the bed to hers and she surprisingly caught you, flipping you over and laughing as she pretended to punch you,

“please please please, let me live, oh mighty black panther please!” you closed your eyes as if you were scared, rubbing your hands together as a sign of mercy. you were the only one here in america that knew she was the black panther by accident, and you’d sworn to never tell a soul.

after you heard nothing, you opened your eyes to peek and saw her doing a funny face. you both then bust out laughing at your silly behavior, forgetting that she was still on top of you. your laughing started to die down before you suddenly realised the position you were both in and instantly start to panic. her face was literally inches away from yours, as her minty breath tickled your nose. completely rapt, you didn’t know what to do so you just lifted your hands up to hold the sides of her small waist. she felt the sudden touch, and looked down at you, also realising how close in proximity you were to each other. you could do nothing but stare at her lips, perfectly two toned, glistening from the lip vaseline she always uses, and slightly parted. the urge to kiss her was so strong and nearly overtook you but your mind started to ramble and it unfortunately transferred into words out loud,

“shuri, i’m so sorry, i know this is probably the last thing you want to hear right now, but i like you, i really do, i’ve been liking you since i met you, i just didn’t know how to say it, i’m sorry, you probably don’t even feel the same way, but i just felt like i needed to-”

it seemed like shuri had the same thing in mind as your words were interrupted, by the feeling of her soft lips placed upon yours, maybe as a way to indirectly tell you to shut up. your eyes were wide open from shock but you shut them and kissed her back with a more needy approach. it felt like you were in another realm entirely, just you and her, together, nothing else mattered. your lips moved in sync as you held onto her waist tighter, liking the way her body felt on top yours. before you could slip some tongue in, she pulled away licking her lips as her eyes danced around the room, seemingly embarrassed by what just occurred. she gently climbed off of you and sat up, packing away the uno cards. you held yourself upright with your elbows watching her contently.

“shuri.”

she didn’t reply, focused on tidying up the bed.

“shuri!” you held your hand to stop her from her actions and she stared at you blankly before grabbing the sides of your face and pulling you into another kiss.

what in the world was happening right now.

her hands were enveloped in your brown locks and you pulled her closer, putting your hands on her shoulders to deepen the intimate kiss that was being shared by the two of you. shuri seemed like she wanted this for a long time, but so did you and you were going to make every second count. she was the first to slip her tongue in your mouth and you eagerly welcomed it. her muscular arms wrapped around your waist and propped you up onto her lap impatiently. you’d previously taken your hoodie off when you two came back and so you were left in a white tank top. her large hands rubbed against your chest area unintentionally and that riled you up even further. the kiss got hungrier, deeper as you snaked your hands around her neck, fingers laced in her tight coils as you devoured each other.

honestly, if this carried on, it was going to lead to something else and you didn’t think you were fully ready for that right now especially if shuri didn’t feel as deeply for you as well, so you hesitantly parted your lips away from shuri’s, leaving a string of saliva connecting the two of you. shuri breathed heavily as she looked up at you through her chocolate orbs, her lips having grown in size from the fervent make out session. you adjusted your top that had rode up from the touching and carefully got down from shuri’s lap,

“i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable, i don’t know what came of over me, i understand if you don’t like me anymore i’m sorry-” shuri blabbered, worried to death that she’d made you feel weird, hence why you stopped.

“no shuri, that was amazing, of course i like you silly, i just told you a whole essay about it.” you giggled, placing your forehead on hers lovingly, “i stopped because i just have a question to ask you.” you said mysteriously, as you sat up against the headboard of your double bed.

“go ahead,” shuri urged you to continue as she followed you, also moving so her back was against the headboard.

“do you want to be my girlfriend?” you inquired bluntly. you didn’t think you’d ever say that to anyone but surprise surprise, here you were.

“i thought you’d never ask.” shuri hugged you for the 30th time that day and you hugged her back, filled with absolute bliss. you were so certain she’d reject you but her feelings for you might’ve been even stronger than yours for her; no that’s impossible. you couldn’t wait for what’s the future held for you two as well as how your relationship would work out. however, not everything was all roses and daisies as you remembered that’s she’s eventually going to leave you soon.

“wait shuri, aren’t you leaving, i’m not going to be able to see you.” you pouted, holding her hands as your head was down in woe.

“well, you said you wanted to come, didn’t you, i can definitely organize that.” shuri replied, lifting your chin up to look at her.

“what!? you don’t mean it...i can go to wakanda?! oh my god, no fucking way, i’ve always wanted to go! shuri, i could literally buy you a lamborghini right now.” you yelled out, full of excitement as you jumped off the bed and ran laps around your small dorm room screaming your head off like a lunatic, almost tripping on the loose objects all over the floor.

shuri laughed wholeheartedly at your thrilled uproar, loving how gorgeous you looked when you were happy. this was going to be a great few weeks for you two.

🫶

[drill-teeth-art]

Do you have any advice for coloring with markers?

Sure thing!

So I use Ohuhu brush and chisel tip alcohol based markers (I mainly use the brush tip end). And my main tip really if you wanna do shading especially is to get used to how fast your markers dry on the paper. Alcohol markers especially dry really fast. And you can do different things with the colors whether they're laying wet or dry on the paper. If they're still wet, you can blend them much easier. If the ink on the page is already dry, they won't really blend much if at all when you add a new layer.

Here's my sketch.

First, I take swatches of the colors and make myself a mini palette I'm using off to the side. I like to plan out loosely what colors I want to use before I start coloring. You can always dig back in your marker bag if you wanna grab another color. But I like to have a starting point palette to use so most of the markers I am going to use are already set on the table. You wouldn't believe how many times I rifled around my marker bag to pick a color to blend with only to put it on the drawing and realize the layer I wanted to blend it with dried already XD

Then I start to lay down my lightest colors, usually starting with the face if there is one in the illustration. The thing with alcohol markers is you can always go darker with the colors (until you reach pitch black or start ripping your paper), but you can't really make them lighter again. So generally speaking: start light, work dark. Although sometimes if I know something is going to be the darkest color in the palette without much variation, I will lay that down pretty early too.

I laid down the lightest gray first, and then the slightly darker gray to make a softer gradient on the face to subtly show where the light is hitting. I'll add a harsher shadow later.

While I waited on the face to dry, I did lay down the darkest browns I was using. First I put the darkest one down and blended it with a slightly lighter dark brown to add some subtle lighting even to the darkest areas.

Then I returned to the face once the first gradient layer dried completely. As you can see the darker gray isn't blending with the lighter grays because they're already dry. It just stops abruptly to create a harsher shadow.

I rinse and repeat making gradients, letting them dry and layering either a flat shadow or another gradient on top until I'm satisfied with it. Or until I'm sick of it lol.

Then I add my lines in a darker pen, hiding any slight bleeding of the marker outside of the sketch lines and also just to make the lines darker and bolder because I like that look. Do a couple extra color touch ups when the pen dries too.

And I wanted to wrap this piece up with a couple background details. Bam!

That's sort of a peek at my process with markers. It's a lot of timing. Making gradients and layering and getting to know your markers so you get a sense of how fast they dry. Hope these tips help you!