#quick sketch so it’s a bit messy

[panoffrying]

Little silly sketch. Basically what if Benery and Barney end up being two separate people in hl2vrai

[igirisuscones]

Oh, I screwed up again, time to reincarnate 🍏

[kaijukebox]

I’ve been lamenting over hugs these past couple weeks and remembered that I actually have some on this warm up sheet of the ghoulies I’ve been slowly adding to 🫶 just a few more to catch up!

[virgothozul]

A dude and his boyfriend 💕

[omppupiiras]

I made you into a pear with a face :D I´m a duck. We succumb to the brain rot together <3

awww lintu & omppu the brainrot bros THIS SO CUTE!!!! 🥺🥺💛💚 thank youuu!!! the little earrings on the pear I LOVE IT so much!! <3

in fact i loved it so much i had to draw you one too :D:D

[houseofceline]

My Pretty Girl - T.N.

Steal My Girl

Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott

Warnings: None (yet ;))

Summary: Theo's friends get to meet you for the first time.

&lt; 2

__________________

Perfect. 

You clapped your hands in satisfaction after taking a little study break to organize all your fabrics by color. The plan was originally to go to the dining hall to grab a quick snack, but your messy little studio set up in your dorm easily distracted you on the way out and made you change your plans. 

Your fingers flipped through the pages of your design sketchbook. A small smile formed on your face as you traced your sketches. 

Fashion. 

The only thing that you felt competent in. You didn’t have to try to make things look good. It was the only thing that came natural to you. You could plan an entire outfit for any occasion faster than you could even list the ingredients in a simple potion. You weren’t going to become a doctor like both of your parents, but you thought it’d be better to do something you’re good at rather than forcing yourself to study materials that you’ll never be able to understand. No matter how many times they tried to persuade, or threaten, you to change career paths, you never strayed far from your dreams. The dreams that kept you happy when you were scolded for wanting to stay home and draw instead of going with your father to work.

At least you will never have the chance to mess up a surgery. That would be worse than the invention of jeggings. 

The door swung open and your roommate walked in. You furrow your eyebrows upon her presence, wondering why she would be back so early from her date with Cedric. 

“How’d your date go?” You closed your design book and walked towards your bed before flopping onto it. 

So comfy. 

Cho sighed before rolling her eyes, “stupid last minute quidditch practice.” 

You giggled as your stomach growled. Maybe you should’ve gotten a snack before you decided to clean. 

“Dining hall?” Cho offered her arm out. 

You jumped up from your bed and happily skipped over to her and took her arm. 

“I’m famished,” You exclaimed in desperate need of having anything in your stomach after the oatmeal bowl for breakfast. 

“Me too, Cedric had promised me pastries from a bakery in Hogsmeade before I got canceled on,” Cho grumbled as the two of you walked in a pair towards the hall. 

Pastries. Croissants. Ugh you missed home. France has the best pastries. Now you were craving a chocolate croissant. Not that croissants are the only pastry in France. 

“Next ti- ow,” you rubbed your head after the harsh impact, stumbling a bit. 

“Watch where you’re going next time mate,” another boy came up and landed a harsh slap on his back. 

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” The boy in front of you questioned frantically while trying to hide the fact that he was searching your head for any bruises. Theo might kill him if he made a bruise on his “pretty girl”. 

“I‘m okay,” you waved your hands in front of your face, kind of nervous that people were starting to look.

“Hello y/n,” The other boy came up and offered his hand out. 

You were confused on how he knew your name despite the fact that you didn’t know his, but still shook his hand. 

The boy chuckled at your confused looking expression. He could understand why Theo had called you pretty instead of his usual “she’s hot”s that the group would receive when talking about girls. 

“I’m Mattheo, Riddle,” he winked, “Nott’s friend. And this is Lorenzo.” 

You made an ‘ohh’ face in recognition but you remained surprised at the fact that you were even linked to him. 

Cho nudged your side. You looked over to her and was met with a raised eyebrow. You were as equally as confused as her. You and Theodore had only interacted once and it was during that one potions class, the day Cho had to skip due to sickness. You had no idea why his friends knew about you or were even talking to you.

But nonetheless you offered a warm smile towards the two boys, “nice to meet you.”  

“Nice to finally meet you too,” Lorenzo returned the gesture. You liked him, he seemed nice. 

Cho cleared her throat while clutching her stomach. You had forgotten what the two of you had even come to the hall for. 

“Well, enjoy your meal!” You waved them goodbye as Cho dragged you to the Ravenclaw filled tables and out of their sights. 

“Who are you losers bothering,” Theo scowled and smacked the two boys on the back. 

“We were just getting acquainted with our best mate’s girlfriend,” Mattheo teased as Theo raised his arm pretending to hit him, making Mattheo duck. 

“Girlfriend? Please, you and I both know I don’t do none of that,” Theo rolled his eyes and the trio walked over to their table. 

“Lucky her, you’re not exactly boyfriend material yourself,” Enzo replied as they took their seats grabbing their lunches before quidditch practice. The first game between Slytherin and Gryffindor was coming up, they needed all the fuel they could get before Malfoy made them run what felt like 100 laps during practice. 

“What are you talking about? I'm the epitome of it,” Theo replied confidently as he took a bite of his sandwich. Sandwich was a bit dry, Italians do it better.

“Right, someone bring Hannah over for questioning,” Mattheo laughed as Theo glared at him.

“We never dated, I don’t owe her anything.” 

____________________

“IT’S SO COLD!” You let out a high pitched scream as a huge gust of wind blew right into your face. You had a sweater that you knitted yourself on, paired with a skirt and black tights along with a designer scarf you had searched the whole country for. It was late October, but you hadn’t expected the weather to drop this low. Maybe you should’ve worn your winter coat or opted for a bigger scarf. Or maybe you shouldn’t have come at all. That was the original plan until Cho had managed to convince you to attend. You didn’t really understand quidditch. The whole game seemed complicated to you, plus the whole flying really high and the possibilities of students getting hurt didn’t sit well with your stomach. But you came regardless and it seemed to make Cho very happy. 

“I KNOW BUT WE HAVE SUCH GOOD SEATS!” Cho screamed over the loud clapping and cheering that signaled that the game was about to start. Loud screaming, another thing you weren’t a huge fan of. 

“HERE!” Cho screamed as she took her earmuffs off and placed them on your head. 

“YOU MIGHT NEED THEM MORE THAN I DO!” She yelled before turning her attention back to the game. 

One by one players in either red or green began to fly out. Everyone you were cheering as if it was a competition to see which side would be the loudest. 

“GO HARRY! YEAH!” You heard Cedric shout from the other side of Cho. 

You didn’t know any Gryffindors that well but since you were in a crowd of people all supporting that team, you didn’t want to stand out so you decided to clap along. 

You recognized a few Slytherin players, the faces of the two boys who you had bumped into a few days earlier were spotted flying on broomsticks. You secretly clapped for them as well. 

The mixture of red and green made your heart happy. Christmas. Your favorite holiday. Only two months to go! You couldn’t wait until you get to start putting together presents and drink peppermint mochas with your friends. It was all so exciting! 

Focus on the game! 

You scolded yourself. You look up and frown as you see players begin to grow aggressive. You frowned as a Gryffindor player tried to throw one of those flying balls at Lorenzo. 

You knew it was part of the game but the fact that someone had almost harmed the nice boy made you want to reach for your wand. 

“Yay go Enzo!” You cheered and clapped as you watched him dodge them with ease. A few Gryffindors side eyed you and gave you nasty stares but it was hard to pay them any mind with the distracting colors of ketchup and mustard wrapped around their necks. 

Theo wanted to thank Berkshire, he really did. He wanted to thank him for providing him the strength to throw bludgers at Gryffindors. What was he doing stealing your attention like that? Last time he checked Berkshire was busy trying to ask out a Slytherin a year younger than them. He needs to leave you alone, you were his friend first. Maybe he should throw a bludger and knock Berkshire off his broom. 

Would that be a Slytherin or Gryffindor point?

[cutepotatook]

I'm here to throw all my sketches at you and run

So here we go

My traditional sketches are a bit messy, but I like them

Strawberry Wally au: @//mauburgir

Replaced au: @//kobaltt

LITTLE WALLY! LITTLE WALLY!!!!!

Sketches from magma with friends

By the way, Collector asked Helper where his tea about 12 times in two minutes, so perhaps the cup would end up on his head

IGNORE THE LITTLE HELPERS BELOW OK.🧍

They asked her so she drew it..

Quick sketch of Hunter and y/n based on Violet's sketch 🤭

AU Hunter Wally: @//violetgumdrop

Now I’m disappearing again, thank you

[gigizetz]

what is your thought process when doing animatics? Do you write a script beforehand, determine what scene will be a close up, or wide shot before? Or do you figure that out during the storyboard phase and let your gut feeling decide? :D

Most of it is gut feeling

The preparation in each animatic changes up a bit depending on how confident I am on the visuals. When there's action sequences I do make some thumbnails, since in this case, each frame and shot is essencial to help convey the message in a quick and dynamic way, without getting too fast-paced or too slow. The thumbnails are always a mess though. Here's the thumbnails for Keep Your Friends Close when Odysseus wakes up for example:

I don't blame you if you didn't understand anything lmao. That did help me to get that scene right though!

But yea, I don't do thumbnails for the entire lenght of my animatics. Just for some scenes here and there.

What I do a lot is sketch out the ideas I have for shots to visualize better the finished product. Here are some of the Puppeteer ones for example.

These are very old btw, but helped me start to figure out the general aesthetic of the first Circe segment of the video.

My process is a bit messy and hard to explain, but it's fun and it works so I guess that's all that matters.

[vampyrgoff]

Hewos! How would the Sinclair Brothers act when they give their s/o her first kiss?

First kiss W/ The Sinclairs HC's!

sinclair brothers x fem!reader

contains— fluufffffff, minor violence in Bo's other than that its cute and its late while i write this so apologies for bad writing

requests— open!!! ill write for any slasher atp

vampyr's note— school is bustin' my girl balls fr, Sorry if the guys are a lil ooc, im delusional so I be just writing how I feel the situation would go frrrr, also its not gonna be good lol i just wanted to write something b4 bed because this is like my hobby

word count— 756 words and 3.8k characters

gifs aren't mine! credit for the dividers :D: @mmadeinheavenn thank you for your service 🤍

Bo Sinclair:

Your first kiss with Bo is rather.... gruesome :D (if you are a bo girly you gotta at least be a lil violent js)

He gives you your first kiss in his shop.

He has you talking it up with some visitors and keeping them distracted so he can strike a good kill with them

As you're talking with the visitors you notice one of the girls getting a lil too handsy with Bo. Shes touching his chest, biting her lips, and he's entertaining her too (cause he just would)

So while the other visitors leave, you ask the girl to stay back and to chit chat with you.

Once she turns her head, you blackout...

All of a sudden she's on the floor and you have a wrench in your hand thats bloody.

As she screams for help on the floor, Bo rushes up and this lil fucker has the biggest smile on his face.

"I knew you'd do somethin' about it" he coos at you.

"I-I dont know what came over me.." you say dropping the wrench on the floor with a loud bang.

"Darlin' its fine. Didn't think you'd go all out for your man like that." he'd say playfully.

He grabs you and smashes his lips against yours, dominating the kiss in seconds, while the girl basically watches and is bleeding out.

He has his hands on your cheeks and is kissing you like you just did something so amazing and wonderful.

"That's my girl." he says low and husky in your ear.

"Make sure she's the first one Vinnie does." You say as you pull away, completely flustered.

Lester Sinclair:

Your first kiss with Les is really sweet and rather innocent.

He kisses you in the forest (no not by the roadkill pile lol)

I feel like you and him just go exploring ALL the time

If you're not a nature person, he will beg you with PUPPY DOG EYES to go out with him constantly (you better give in, he deserves the world)

but I feel like he'd have a little area in the forest for you that has a fairy lights and a pretty stone path to a swinging bench that he built, just for you and him to have convos and talks.

I feel like you'd guys have this deep convo thst has to do with trauma and childhood trauma.

While you're pouring your heart out to him, he very lovingly places a small kiss on your lips as tears fall from your eyes while you remember your past and remember the things youve pushed past.

The kiss is soft, and quick.

He pulls away and is a bit starstruck at the random boost of confidence he just gained,

""m sorry. I- should've asked..." he says with the rosiest cheeks everrrr

he'll hold your hand and bow his head in shame, thinking hes gone too far.

but his heart starts to flutter once he feels your head rest on his shoulder as you guys talk some more.

Vincent Sinclair:

Your first kiss with Vinnie is adorable

It's in his basement ofc

You were in his bed, watching him work on some new sketches

Your eyes felt heavy and your breath was slowly starting to even out

Vincent hears your steady breaths after a while and rolls his chair over to you quietly, sketchbook and pencil in hand already.

This cutie straight up starts sketching your closed eyes, your nose, and your messy hair that's sprawled all over his pillow

as he adds more detail to his drawing he finally gets to the part of your face that leads to your lips.

he looks up from his sketch book and truly stares at your lips for awhile, really eyeing the depth of them and the softness of them.

he tilts his head to get a better view of them and he finally takes his mask off.

(he tends to wait for you to be asleep to finally take it off in the first few months of you guys dating)

he gets into bed with you and looks at your sleeping face and just simply admires it. the sound of your soft snores coming from your parted lips relaxes him.

eventually he very timidly places his lips onto yours, careful not to wake you up.

he places a few more pecks on your lips before pulling the duvet over your body.

after that night, it becomes a routine of his to watch you sleep and to sneak in some maskless pecks to your sleeping figure

[tookhimtomypenthouse]

Hate Yourself - Chapter Two

series warnings: female!reader x oliver quick, past/implied felix x oliver, dub-con, stalker behavior, voyeurism, degradation, dacryphilia, bloodplay, gaslighting, manipulation, untagged story elements (the warnings aren't exhaustive!), DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT bbgirl

summary: you’re hired as a maid after Oliver comes to own Saltburn, and find your employer to be very invested in your work

minors dni!

Lyuba had left this morning. She hugged you tightly before stepping into her cab, much to your surprise. The normally stern woman was unexpectedly tender with you that morning.

“Take care, zayka,” she whispered as she held you. “Don’t let this house devour you,” she added before pulling away and walking to her cab. 

You shiver at the thought, her words chilling. You try to ignore the eeriness of her warning as you dust the study. Dusting was gentle work and a welcome reprieve from scrubbing and scouring the other rooms. Plumes of dust kicked up by your duster shimmer in the late afternoon sunbeams, and you catch yourself watching them float around. The study is full of dusty spots – tall bookshelves, busts of important men, and an overstuffed upholstered chair. Your focus is on the chair when you look up to see one of the many hanging frames of art. 

Unlike most art decorating Saltburn, the frame doesn’t hold a stuffy oil painting of a king or lord. Instead, a sketch of a handsome young man looks back. His soft eyes and nonchalant pose invite you in. His clothes seem modern, his messy hair unfussy and tousled. The strokes of charcoal are loose and messy, giving the impression the subject wasn’t as buttoned-up as the rest. Who might he be? In the corner was the artist’s signature, a delicate cursive EC. You search around the perimeter of the sketch for a name, but there’s nothing else. Only the kind, mysterious face.

“Keep your secret, then,” you fake pout to the sketch. You’re pulled out of your examination by clicking footsteps from the hallway. You keep at your dusting, but you hear someone come into the study and rifle through the stack of papers on the desk. Turning your head, you see Oliver sit down and shuffle through a few documents, concentrating deeply on his task. Plucking up some unknown courage, you decided to soothe your burning curiosity.

“Pardon me, sir,” you start, faltering a bit as his eyes connect with yours, “but do you know who this is?”

Oliver pauses as his attention moves to the frame. A sad smile ghosts over his mouth. “Ah,” he says gently. “That would be Felix Catton.” He returns to his task at the desk, but he seems distracted.

“D-do you know him?” You ask, curiosity piquing at his visible reaction.

“I did,” he starts, stepping back from the desk and approaching the picture. “We were…mates.” He’s close now, close enough that your shoulders touch. “Met at Oxford.”

You feel your brows furrow. He’s not giving enough detail for your tastes. “How did he get a picture on the wall if he’s just a mate? There must be more to it than that.” You try and meet his eye, but he is fixated on the image. 

“His family owned this place. He invited me to stay for a summer back when we were in university and died at the birthday party they threw for me here. In the maze.” He angles his head back to you, an unreadable expression on his features. 

“Oh,” you mumble, “I’m so sorry.” An uncomfortable silence envelops you for a moment. You remember Lyuba’s clipped warning in the bathroom, and you aren’t sure how to react.

“The rest of his family followed,” he finally offers, “so his mother left me Saltburn when she passed.” The revelation surprises you, but it makes sense. You had never seen his surname in the numerous journals, paintings, or statues that graced the halls. It seems odd that an Oxford pal came to own this massive estate. Then again, you’re just a maid. Rich people do crazy things like give away houses to friends, right? Maybe people like Lyuba and you could never understand. The few precious things you own you guard fiercely, but finery probably doesn’t seem as precious when you’re constantly surrounded by it. You can understand the grief on his face, though. His prolonged, desperate look at the drawing makes your chest twinge with sadness. 

“Wow,” you whisper. “You must miss him terribly.” The weight of his gaze rests squarely on you. His presence feels suffocatingly close, especially because everyone else has so far made themselves scarce. You haven’t had someone so near to you since Lyuba left. You fight the urge to lean in even closer. 

“Sometimes,” he admits. He lingers next to you for a moment longer before stepping back to the desk and grabbing a sheet of paper. You shake your head quickly and return to dusting, hearing his footsteps move out the door and down the hallway. You give the picture of Felix one last glance before busying yourself with the rest of the room.

~

Hands on your hips, you survey the pristine room. You feel a sense of satisfaction, having made it through your to-do list earlier than anticipated. Making your way back to your room, you decide to reward yourself with a soak in the bathtub. A hot bath. The thought alone is enough to bring a dreamy smile to your lips. The days of work haven’t been too exhausting, but your muscles are sore from adjusting to the workload.

Reaching your room, you rifle through your drawers. Grabbing out your pajamas and socks, you move on to the underwear drawer.

That’s…strange.

You rifle through the contents frantically. Where did they all go? You know you brought more than this. Only a few pairs are left. You shake your head, trying to be rational. They’re just in another drawer, you tell yourself. Hands shaking slightly, you paw through all the drawers in your dresser. By the final one, your breathing comes in raggedly, and your vision blurs with tears.

“What the fuck?” You feel sick to your stomach. Who had been in your room? Suddenly, you feel very vulnerable, too exposed. You rush to the door and try to lock it. The handle jiggles uselessly. A sob breaks from your throat as you sink to the ground. Everything feels like too much.

You miss home, your shoebox room with the ugly brown shag carpet and the tiny window to nowhere. You miss your mother, the twins, your friends. It’s so lonely here. Everyone keeps their distance, and now the one sanctuary you have to yourself feels tainted. Unsafe. If you could go back home, you would.

But you couldn’t. Well, wouldn’t. The private school the twins attend has steep fees, and Mum’s cashier job isn’t cutting it. You think she has enough to worry about as tears flow down your face freely. 

“Pull it together,” you choke out to yourself. It was probably a cruel prank, hazing the new girl. You won’t let them send you back home with your tail between your legs. You’d give your siblings a shot at a life beyond the dreary little town you grew up in. They wouldn’t have to clean other people’s houses if you had any say. Peeling yourself off the ground, you resolved to take your bath. Fuck it, you weren’t going to give up so easily. You could take the silent treatment and other nonsense if it meant a future for them.

Clutching your things, you walk to the bathtub and run the water. You can’t help but feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up, but ignore the feeling. I’m just overthinking, it’s fine. You slip out of your work dress and slide into the steamy bath. You bring your head underneath the water, heat soothing your puffy and tearstained face. You weren’t going to let this place break you.

It’s too bad the person peering through the bathroom keyhole would disagree.

~

You sleep terribly. 

The broken lock and missing panties have rattled you despite your best efforts. You spend your nights watching the door, muscles twitching in anticipation of a confrontation that never comes. Each morning, an increasingly wan face stares back at you in the mirror. 

You decide to do something about it. Your distant coworkers have offered you nothing but wary glances and clipped responses the whole time you’ve been here, so you feel certain it had to be one of them. A good boss would want his employees to feel comfortable here, so you make it your mission to bring it up with Oliver once you finish your tasks for the day.

You wander the house looking for him, nervously popping your head into every room. You don’t think he has business outside the house today, so you get increasingly worked up with each empty room. When you end up back in the foyer with no sign of him, you stomp out into the garden. It’s dark and chilly out, but you can’t even care. You just want somewhere private to scream. The maze beckons you. You’ve never had a chance to go inside, so you trudge right inside it.

The twists and turns are dark and disorienting. You feel your anger ebb away into fear as you make your way deeper. The cold nips at you, but you press on. How much time has even passed here? You’re tempted to turn around and try and find the exit when you see a clearing. You press onward, unsure of what lies ahead. You notice a huge statue, its form monstrous but somewhat amorphous to you in the darkness of the night. It looms menacingly over the space, filling you with dread. 

You hear rustling and nearly jump out of your skin when you realize you aren’t alone.

“W-who is it?” You call out, voice trembling. You cast your eyes around and see a man’s form in the corner.

“It’s just me,” comes the response, and you almost sigh with relief at the sound of Oliver’s voice. You sheepishly walk to him, relaxing at the edge of the clearing. “Are you alright, love?” He peers up at you with concern. 

You try to clear your throat and give a nonchalant response, but your voice comes out brittle and pinched. “Of course,” you rasp out, faltering. You don’t even realize the tears are coming out until Oliver hops to his feet and gently swipes his thumb over your cheek. The unexpectedly tender gesture has all of your exhaustion and worries pouring out.

“Hey,” he breathes, gently cupping your face.

“I’m sorry,” you sob, crying into his hands. “I haven’t been well. Someone broke my lock, a-and stole my clothes, and-“

“Woah, woah, woah, it’s okay,” he soothes, stepping in close and wiping your face. “Someone stole from you?”

“Y-yeah,” you reply.

“I’ll get the door fixed, yeah? And replace what got taken.”

“Really?” you ask, a spark of hope returning to you.

“Of course, I hate to see such a pretty girl upset,” he answers, stroking your hair. He gives you a gentle smile, and you can’t help but give him a teary smile in response. “Now, run along inside. It’s cold out here.”

“Okay,” you mumble, sniffing and drying off the last of your tears. You turn back to the entrance and walk slowly, mulling over his words. Maybe somebody does care about you here.

“Get some rest, please,” he calls after you. “I can’t have my best girl so sad.”

You stifle a giggle as you trace your way back out of the maze, slightly delirious from the attention and unexpected tears. Maybe you really will get some sleep tonight.

~

[coeurify]

hear me out…. bumping into ellie wasted at a nightclub dancing makin out then she recognises u irl a week or smth later n it is on!!!!!!

ok.. this took a turn to be more post makeout fluffy loser ellie so.. yea!

Ellie was not someone who made out with girls in clubs, drunk off of whiskey she only ordered to try and show off to Jesse and Dina. Sure, she saw it happen— it was normal. But no, Ellie definitely did not.

Ellie never called herself a pussy, she would never admit that. But Jesse had no problem snickering it whenever her freckled cheeks were painted red after a girl looked at her at a bar or club. She didn’t usually do anything about it. Hell, the last time Ellie got laid it was because a girl had straight up asked her. Ellie just was not the best at all that.. seduction shit.

Nor was she good with no strings attached shit. That one-off hookup turned into a situationship that she couldn’t let go of. Ellie also had a tendency to pine over the most minor interactions with people. Once, a barista handed her a straw and after their fingers touched, she convinced herself it was the love of her life for the next week. So.. one night stands or messy kisses in the dim lights of clubs were not exactly her thing.

Except for once. Last Saturday, 12:07 am. Not that she had memorized it or anything. Totally not. She definitely had not scorched the night’s memory (of her hands against hips, lips that tasted like the cranberry juice mixer against her own, soft hands pulling her bun out to run fingers through it) into her brain. No way.

What Ellie will admit she remembers was the embarrassment that singed the baby hairs on the back of her neck as Dina slapped an arm on her back, the three drunk young adults clambering out of the tightly packed club close to 1 am. “I knew you had it in you! You totally rocked that girl’s world. Jesse, you owe me five bucks.” Then Dina had stuck an expectant hand out to Jesse, causing a short offended gasp from Ellie. “You made a bet on me?”

They did. Ellie’s own best friends had no faith in her ability to have quick and fun hookups like everyone else their age. But she had proved them wrong! She had made out with a really, really pretty girl.. no strings attached.

She didn’t even know your name. Not that she had to. You were both all too happy to skip the pleasantries and get straight to having your hands on each other. It wasn’t like she was wondering what your name was, and if she could find you somewhere on social media the entire walk home that night.

Definitely not. She convinced herself of this every day since then. Every time she saw a flash of hair that looked like yours around, or when her brain went a little haywire, and she came back to the messy sketch of your eyes on her notebook.

Within the week, Ellie had forced herself to get a grip. It was just some random making out, for fucks sake. She had no reason to daydream about how you had keened into her when she bit at your bottom lip. No right to be squeezing her eyes shut to remember how it felt to have your hand slip up the loose material of her shirt, heated touches against her stomach.

No, those flashbacks started to settle simply from the pure stubbornness of her own brain, which shot scoffs and head shakes straight out every time one popped up again.

But now, with her back pressed to the uncomfortable metal of a cafe chair, flannel pushed up to her elbows as she tilted her head back to enjoy the breeze from the sky, she started to think again.

Dina was leaning over a menu, biting her lip as she tried to decide what drink to order. It had been Dina who suggested they sit outside, at this particular cafe, so maybe El should blame what happened next on her.

The soft sound of the door swinging open sounded, bringing the auburn-haired girl’s face down from where it tilted into the sky.

For a second, she thought she was hallucinating. Really. Maybe something had been slipped into the water next to her, or maybe Dina had like— poisoned her for calling her annoying earlier. Because certainly, this was not real.

Your hair, the one she had brought her hands to tug at the other night, was on full display, your head tilted down as you rummaged through an apron with the cafe’s name printed on it. Ellie knew it was you right away, and blinked a few times to ensure this was not some evil hallucination.

The auburn-haired girl sat up a little straighter on the chair, causing an awfully loud screech against the cement. Your head came up simultaneously, the pen now in hand.

“Sorry,” you apologized, flipping to an empty page in your little order book. “Had to find a pen. What can I get you guys?”

You smiled, just like you had under the flashing lights of that club, and it was just as pretty as Ellie remembered. But when your eyes met hers, that smile faltered slightly. The pen slipped from your grip, clambering right onto the table with a very annoying ping sound.

Dina reached her hand to grab it, but Ellie was faster. As if was some competition, she leaned slightly over the table and wrapped her fingers around the pen, holding it up for you. “Here,” she mumbled, trying to keep any voice crack to herself. “Thanks..” you hummed, sniffling.

Dina eyed between the two of you, slightly convinced she had just been forced into the middle of some awful cheesy romcom, something that would be promoted with big blocky letters like ‘cafe meet cute!’ She cleared her throat, breaking the weirdly tension-filled stare down happening between the two of you.

“Sorry—“ you apologized, throwing on another cheery smile as you looked at Dina, “what can I get you?”

Ellie doesn’t even hear Dina’s order, and she also doesn’t prepare hers. She is too busy nervously twisting a finger between her other hand in her lap, sneaking very obvious glances at you, and then back down to the menu that looks like pure gibberish.

“Cool! And for you?” your voice questions next, smooth and sweet in a way that had the film reel of Saturday playing in Ellie’s head all over again.

“You can kiss me, you know?” you called over the loud music of the club, ignoring how bodies bumped against you every other second, sending you stumbling further into Ellie, who you had flipped to face, her hands still gripping your waist. Your eyes blinked slowly at her, glossy lips twitching up, head dizzy with the vodka and cranberries you had. Ellie wasted no time after your request, pressing forward harshly to capture your lips.

Ellie cleared her throat, “Uh..” great, she had totally no idea what to order. “Honestly, I’ve never been here... I’m not sure what I’d like. What’d you recommend?”

Dina didn’t even hold back the scoff from the other side of the table, because, really.. that was Ellie’s line?

You seemed to find it endearing, though, meeting her eyes again as you suggested your favorite sandwich and drink, pointing toward it on the menu.

“Cool…cool.. I’ll try that,” Ellie nodded, leaning back into her chair again. The sandwich you recommended had tomatoes, and she hated tomatoes. But it was fine.

You nod one too many times before turning on your heel and speed walking inside.

Dina started immediately. “Why the hell did you just eye fuck our waitress?” she accuses, leaning in to squint her eyes at you. “Also, you are fucking ass at flirting. Staring at someone with those freakily green eyes just doesn’t work.”

Ellie frowned, “fuck off, Dina.”

She waited to speak until she was sure you were inside the cafe again. “That’s the girl I made out with at the club,” she muttered, flushing slightly.

Dina’s mouth dropped open, “You’re shitting me.”

Auburn hair shook slightly out of place as the other sighed. “Nope. It’s totally her.”

“Damn… maybe you’ve got some weird curse on you that, like.. bans you from having one night stands.”

Ellie only scoffed in response. It didn’t feel like a curse, maybe more like a blessing to see you again.

“Hey, you can go two for two with shitty lines for waitresses and put your number on the receipt.”

Ellie rolled her eyes like it was a bad idea, but she definitely would do it.

[buboplague]

hello. i'm an art nerd and as such do art nerd things like study art. you are one of my favorite artists for your smooth and organic lines. is your style of line work something you've developed unintentionally over time or is it a matter of intention and technique? ive noticed you're able to do a lot with very little, which is something i strive for in my own art. happy late easter if you celebrated btw

oh this is an interesting question! I've never really stopped to think about this before.

I think it's a bit of both, but mostly unintentional and developed over time as a characteristic of the way I prefer to draw.

I draw quickly, erase minimally, like continuous lines, and enjoy the actual physical feeling of drawing messy, and I think that's helped me be more confident in my lines in general and contributes to how it looks. Being precise and accurate is usually not my goal, so it's ok if something is off (please never flip my sketches haha). I like the way drawing like this feels.

But there are also a lot of styles I love that use fluid lines, like ukiyoe art and artists inspired by those same styles, or others' quick gestural drawings. Seeing those inspire me to stay loose, or not care about accuracy, simplify things, etc, and folding these concepts it into my work is intentional, because it loops back into enjoying the way it's done. I don't really have much advice or technique for how to achieve this deliberately because I guess I'm not really sure myself LOL but based on how I approach things myself, these are tips to try (which it looks like you're doing some already!):

draw with pen on paper. If you mess up just go with it, or try again from the beginning. Don't get hung up on erasing and fixing things, just keep drawing

practice speed, with timed gesture drawing or other methods of practice you're comfortable with; try it without picking up the pen

turning stabilization off while drawing digitally for a more natural line (entirely subjective, but stabilization trips me up so bad and feels weird)

draw from life. It can be random objects around the house, or random photos, but draw things you normally wouldn't - train your hand to follow your eye, as this will help you see the way you use line, and is an easy way to practice what kinds of lines you want without getting hung up on idea generation, or if the character looks right, expectations, etc.

It's okay to be impatient and lazy sometimes LOL. Sometimes doing the bare minimum helps you to learn where you want to simplify or stylize things. "Good enough" is also a pretty useful catchphrase sometimes

I hope something in this post helps! And sorry if it doesn't, I'm not very good at articulating my own art or thought processes.

Thank you for your kind words and for enjoying my work. happy late easter!

[avis-fictional-world]

Thank you again for the commission!! @aimportantdragoncollector

I hope you all enjoy this sketch! This series has been fun to draw for!!Please go read it if you haven’t!

I’ve included the raw sketch below along with my sketch for chapter 4 !! 👇👇

My prices are going to increase soon so please message me soon for the lower prices:)

[omppupiiras]

why is itttt that usually i'm so lazy and will procrastinate doing most things till kingdom come, but when inspiration strikes for something I gotta do the thing immediately and finish it as soon as possible!! (sleep what's that who needs it?)

anyways i did a so-so drawing of käärijä, screen recorded it and sped it up, rendering the video rn 💀 so if anyone's curious about my nonsensical drawing process, soon you can watch it for yourself and judge me 😎 or u know if nobody cares i can watch and laugh at it by myself

[anonymouscheeses]

Goth Vaggie because how could you let her be so tasteless in the gothness bro. Please... atleast one hint at goth vaggie 😔

My other non related Vaggie redesign sort of expression sheet + goth vaggie x Charlie under cut vvvv

Didn't turn out as well as I wanted it to. I think I rushed out the sketch and tried to fix it in line art as best as I could. Soo... I love Vaggie guys. Like a normal amount yknow? So normal. (It's crazy. I kin Charlie ofc but Vaggie is literally so mmmff)

Still trying to find a consistent head shape for Vaggie sooo I'll jst practice I guess

Very VERY messy and quick doodle I shit out. Might finish one day, these new nails make digital art hard (i draw on phone and am too pussy for computer and I'm too poor for traditional art lmao so expect shit art for a bit maybe unless i thug it out fr)

PLEASE CHAGGIE JST ONE CHANCE ONE CHANCEE ONE CHA-

I love these goobers so much 💜💜

Charlie tryinna not look at booba, respect women even tho they is in bed wit you 🗣🔥

[shadebloopnik]

Some really messy sketches on a small little AU with Carmilla as a Fallen Angel Warrior.

Different from the Exorcists who slaughter Sinners, and more dedicated to the actual protection of Heaven against the darker forces. The designs haven't been thought out much, but I like drawing the horns, so I thought it'd be a cool warrior hairdo, like how Exorcists wore demonic masks (I was really bored in class okay-)

Her daughters, Odette and Clara are there too. They looked pretty different even as twins, which were a bit of an oddity at the time. They were often made to dress alike, and act alike. Most viewed them as a package deal rather than taking time to understand their individuality.

Its why they're dressed so freely in hell, relishing in how different they can be whilst still having a great bond.

Her daughters are ultimately what causes her to fall. Drawing the half horn half hair down style looked a lot cooler in my head, but it was fun regardless.

Some secret regarding her daughters get found out, Heaven making her choose to either cast her daughters down or join them. Carmilla didn't hesitate.

More info on the AU/fic in the cut belowww:

I dunno if im ever gonna expand on it, but I loved the idea of making it Zestmilla. Maybe Carmilla met the old Overlord in one of her trips in hell, maybe fighting in a battle there? Or helping establish order? Anyway, she was alone when she met Zestial, and the two were quiet the enemies when they met. They fought, though didn't aim to kill, resulting in a close fight with Carmilla as victor. She wasn't an Exorcist warrior, and saw no need to immediately end this Overlord. She wasn't sent there to do mindless murder, and would like to avoid useless battles if she could. Besides, he was polite enough, and though she didn't trust him, he didn't grate on her nerves either. Zestial was quite taken with her, suspicious and quite murderous towards an angel, but liked her well enough for her wit and level headedness. Her grace and skill in battle was also admirable.

They bump into each other many more times, over the course of Carmilla's visits to hell, and with each meeting, they turn a bit more cordial, even striking an unlikely friendship, that blossoms into much more. It takes them about a hundred or so years(bc i LOVE relationships that REAAAALLLY take the time to develop and build on that trust and love) before they become romantically involved. They seem like the couple who would take it slow, being cautious and not rushing anything less it would harm the other.

And though Carmilla's trips to hell were halted, their love was not for naught as she gave birth to Clara and Odette. Her one regret was not being able to give Zestial the great news, he would've been an amazing father.

She manages to hide their identities for a good while. The two had rather angelic features, wings and all, and humanoid forms unlike their father's. The only thing that pointed to their demonic heritage were their eyes, whose sclera was the same shade of red as her iris. It was easily hidden with simple spells though. The two girls bore quite the resemblance towards her, even with some oddities, and were left fairly alone, being able to remain undetected for decades.

(I just left this post to sketch this out real quick lol, just to get the coloring in mind, not set on the design but I dont mind it.)

The peace couldn't last. After a while with Odette and Clara still being considered young as angels, their secret gets out. Maybe the spells wore off, or by a slip of the tongue, but for some reason or another it gets found out that they're half demons. They were attacked, and the daughters were stripped of their wings and sentenced to be cast down to Hell, left at the mercy of the next Extermination. Carmilla was given a chance to redeem herself and stand back, and let her "mistakes" be washed clean.

Carmilla fought back, her wingless daughters clutching to her own feathers for protection. She scooped them up, flying away to hell, less they get any more damaged. Try as she might, however, they didn't manage to escape unscathed. She plummeted into Hell; feeling the curses and painful burn of magic at her back, nipping at her form.

It was as if Heaven and Hell itself tore her apart with her descent, both pulling with reckless abandon, shaping her into what they wanted.

She couldn't even afford to lose consciousness; she had her daughters to protect after all. Both girls were weak and bleeding, their backs aching from where their wings used to be. Carmilla glanced at her own feathers, and felt her heart break. It looked just as painful as it felt. Her once sleek and razor sharp looking feathers were nearly singed beyond repair. She retracted them, less she attract more enemies with them in display.

She struggled to get up, carrying her daughters with her despite the weakness in her legs. She didn't even have her spear with her, weaponless except for the ballet slippers she'd forged herself with angelic steel. Her hair was down and unruly, all three of them covered in burns and cuts and bruises and bleeding wounds. The attack came out of nowhere. Her daughters weren't even given a chance to defend themselves.

Weaponless. It can't happen again.

She manages to drag her daughters with her, only one place she could think of approaching. Its been decades since she's been to Hell, she hopes the territories didn't change too much. She was hesitant in going to Zestial for help. After all, its been years, and she'd left without being able to say goodbye. He'd be justified in hating her, and she wouldn't hold it against him. At the least, they could hide somewhere in his territory. His lands were one of the best choices, the demons residing under his rule were fairly disciplined. In a place as dangerous as Hell, an environment that was fairly familiar to her gave some bit of comfort. Even if he didn't accept them, even if he was unaware of their existence, Carmilla was satisfied with simply a place to rest.

She needed not worry though. As soon as Zestial heard the slightest news about strangers in his territory, he rushed to meet them himself. He noticed the large crash just some hours before night fell, and couldn't help the spark of hope. He was greeted by the sight of a few dead bodies, 1 or 2 who thought they could get lucky taking advantage of a weakened opponent. He arrived just in time to see a third fall, bloodied heels clicking on the ground below. The figure stood tall, though was clearly tired and heaving deep breaths. He barely noticed the two smaller figures in the distance, his gaze focused solely upon the lone woman, whose silver hair was still so beautiful even with all the dirt and blood matting it. He stepped closer, the sound of it causing the woman to turn and-

It didn't matter how dark it was. It didn't matter how her sclera was now the same shade of red as her iris were, as if it were inverted. He'd recognize her anywhere.

Without caring that he'd get stabbed himself, he rushed to pull her in a tight embrace, feeling her freeze beneath his arms. He buried his face in her hair, nuzzling it even with the blood and dirt, afraid as though she'd disappear if he ever let go.

He felt her large hands wrap around him and for the first time since his existence in Hell, he felt as if he could cry. This was real. This wasn't a figment of his imagination, nor a result of insanity. She was here. After all these years she came back to him. He couldn't be happier.

He immediately takes her and the two girls back to his residence, letting them clean up and helping patch their wounds. When he found out the two were his daughters, he felt as if- yea no, he was crying, this wasn't just a feeling, he couldn't stop the tears from streaming down as he hugged the two as firmly as he could without aggravating their wounds. He felt so angry for them, enraged that heaven could deal out such punishments for something the girls couldn't control.

He took them all in, preparing rooms for everyone. He prepared one for Carmilla too, not wanting to push his luck. It has been years after all, and he didn't want to force himself onto her should she decide she didn't reciprocate anymore. In the end, they all slept in the same room. Carmilla wanted to be with Zestial, feeling safer with someone else in the room to stand guard, and her daughters crawled back to her, far too afraid to sleep in such a new place alone after everything that happened.

So they all snuggled in the same large bed, Zestial keeping a respectful distance from the young girls as to not frighten them, all the while letting his webbed cloak wrap around Carmilla in comfort.

Carmilla fell asleep last, her thoughts running wild. It was all so much, but right now, here with her daughters in her arms and under Zestial's embrace, she felt at peace for the first time in a long while.

Glancing at the mirror across the room, she hummed at the changes in her eyes. The only thing she could think of was how was that she finally matched her daughters. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all, she'd think, drifting off into sleep.