#this was supposed to be just a quick sketch but i got carried away

[haloermin-rants]

Fratrry (2022 version)

other stuff:

i really enjoyed the shading of the skin tbh

[averaillisa]

🍇.

[tabbystardust]

Stede portrait by tabbystardust [AO3]

[moochio7]

Playing around w styles and working on anatomy 👍👍

[shrimplifies]

side profiles are still the bane of my existence

[lythea-creation]

Caught on Camera - Shams x fem reader (Chapter 1)

summary: In a world full of wannabe influencers, (f/n) prefers to be a private person. But as Shams doesn't seem to care much about ones privacy, the two of them have quite a lot to discuss.

warnings: same theme as the series

word count: 975

Author's note: Feel free to check out my Masterlists and make requests. No reposting please! Reblogging, comments and requests are always appreciated <3 If you like the story/my writing, please don't be shy to say it via comments or asks! It takes you a few seconds and might make my day. It's the best appreciation you can show to a writer you like.

requested? Yes

----------------------------

In a time where social media were basically ruling the world, people thought of me as weird for avoiding them most of the time. It was not like I was completely against them. I just did not feel the need to post my life. Actually I thought that people who were posting their life were not content enough with it to just enjoy it. Instead they had to waste it on making everyone believe they were being as perfect as possible.

Nevertheless I came along with my classmates, even the most popular ones like Tasneem and Hiba. I was simply a private person. Therefore I was alone a lot of the time as well, sometimes hanging out with Nadeen.

I liked her attitude, standing up for herself and others, staying true to herself.

Although that was also what got me caught up in this mess of sitting outside in the burning sun to make a stand. The irony of it all was that Nadeen, Shams and I were the only ones outside at the end, though we did not care that much about our phones.

To be honest I did not really know what to think about Shams. On the one hand she seemed to be nice, offering us food and talking to us, and I was curious because I barely knew anything about her. On the other hand I did not like the fact that she was carrying around a camera all the time. It kinda made me feel watched. Like I had to be on guard to make sure she was not filming me.

“What are you up to today? Wanna hang out?”, Nadeen asked me when the school bell rang for the last time.

“Sure”, I agreed. “But please no more horror movies.”

“Why not? Your reactions are too good to miss out on”, she proclaimed with a chuckle.

“It's not my fault that I take movies too seriously. Of course the scary ones freak me out”, I justified myself.

“Though they're not even scary”, Nadeen shot back.

“How about you tell my dreams exactly that?”, I suggested, now laughing myself.

In the end she persuaded me to watch another one. I just could not say no to her when she offered to let me sleep over because that was always my condition for watching horror movies with her. It was hard to fall asleep if I was alone afterwards.

“What are you watching?”, I wondered when Nadeen was laughing about something on her phone.

“It's one of Sarah's videos. But this one is actually funny”, she enlightened me and rewound it to let me see the beginning as well.

It was about different types of girls at our school. She depicted me as the artsy fangirl which I could not deny. After all I was always scribbling away at some quick sketches or short stories about my favorite book and movie characters.

But when the video showed The Critic, which was obviously supposed to be Nadeen. Honestly I could not understand how Sarah could post something like that about Nadeen, considering they were friends.

The hurt was written all over Nadeen's face before she quickly hid it behind a nonchalant mask.

“It's blowing up”, I noticed.

Her views, likes and comments were basically exploding the more time passed. It was insane.

And on the next day Sarah moved on from invisible to absolute spotlight.

I tried to stay close to Nadeen as Sarah did not seem to take any interest in talking to her friend, now that she had other options. That was one of many reasons to hate social media. But never mind.

My eyes moved away from Sarah as I observed my environment. It was nothing unusual for me to do. From time to time it could be useful. That way I could stay out of the trouble and drama.

But this time I did not like what I saw.

Quickly I made my way over to Shams. “Were you just filming us?”, I accused her.

The others were too busy crowding Sarah to notice our discussion.

“Why does it matter?”, Shams remarked.

“I didn't allow you to film me”, I pointed out.

“So what? Everybody is running around filming nowadays. Why is it different when I do it with a real camera instead of a phone?”, she considered.

“I don't care about the kind of camera. Just delete it”, I requested.

“I'll cut you out of it if you stop bugging me. And don't chat it around. People behave differently when they're aware of being filmed.”

“Why should I do that? I don't owe you anything”, I declared.

“Look. Maybe you don't like what I'm doing, but I'm just expressing myself through art like you do”, she claimed.

“What are you talking about?”, I inquired.

“Your sketches and stories. I haven't read any of them, but it's obvious that you're passionate about them. So you should be able to see my point”, she resonated.

“You truly are a stalker”, I noted, taking a step closer to her.

Somehow this discussion had quickly become heated and despite my anger I had to admit that I was feeling a pull toward her.

“I'm a film maker. That's the point. By the way, you're the only one that cares. Everybody else is way too busy with their petty online lives and little drama. So can you just let it go? I promise to cut you out. It's for the sake of art”, she stated.

For a moment we were staring each other down, contemplating what to do next. And for some reason it became harder and harder to stay close. So I gave in.

“Fine”, I grumbled and stormed off.

------------------------------

Next Chapter

i decided to make this one a fanfiction with rather short chapters, so you guys won't have to wait as long to read another one as I don't know how much time I'll have to write. Thanks to sunwoniie for requesting. I hope you all like the first chapter. Feel free to make suggestions about the next chapters. Maybe I'll integrate some aspects you want.

Tag List: @sunwoniie

[solitaryelf]

first art of the new year with my fave family!! (let's just pretend caoxiang are off screen in their own little bubble) it was supposed to just be a quick sketch but i got carried away with colouring :")

[undiscovered-horizon]

Author's note: I modelled for the first time. My lower back is dead.

Imagine sketching Peter for class.

The afternoon was a perfect time to sit in the studio: sunlight barged into the room through the wide windows, warming up the hardwood floor scattered with paint splashes. Canvases were stacked against the walls - an unseen collection of the only painter he ever cared about. Hesitantly, Peter sat in a chair a few feet away from the easel.

"So, uh... Do I just sit here?"

He looked curiously small on the chair; anxious that he might disturb the artistic sanctity of the studio. Peter's eyes glazed over the random pots, vases and rocks scattered around the room - it didn't come to him at first that they were props for putting up still nature. The aforementioned canvases, as much as he could see, all had your name written on their backs and Peter began to wonder whether all of them were a breathtaking show of your artistry.

Peter loved your paintings and not only because they were yours - it felt as if, for a moment, he got to see the world through your eyes and the sight he was presented had never been short of wonderful. Anytime you showed him your newest piece, he fantasised what it would be like to be the subject of your art: did you see him as equally beautiful as you did the rest of the world? But now that the moment of truth came a-knocking at his door, Peter felt uneasy. He wasn't sure whether his lovesick heart could take so much of your undivided attention.

"Yeah, pretty much," you shrugged. It escaped your attention that reddish bashfulness crept unto his face seeing you in the baggy shirt. The once white material was wrinkly, dirtied with various paints, glue, charcoal and spray paint. Peter found it endearing that you carried a tortillon and a piece of chalk in the chest pocket. "Whatever's comfortable for you. We'll take a break after every forty-five minutes but if you need one earlier just say so."

"Alright," he answered with a slight nod.

The smaller, less precise, sketch you began making on a smaller piece of paper was coming together a little too fast to simply be a drawing of a silhouette you were portraying for the very first time. Maybe Peter's lovelorn anxiety would ease if he was to see all of the sketches of him you had already made - each one more secretive than the other, drawn with passion but quite a little time, using up all the minutes you could spare during class.

"Let me just mark where your feet are," you said while stretching a long piece of tape. "And we can start."

Except for the creaking floorboard and the sounds of traffic outside, the studio was silent. With utmost loving fascination, Peter watched you working. Each of the quick and ever-so-frequent glances you spared him, were piercing through his body. Sitting there, although he was fully clothed, Peter felt naked under your focused gaze; there wasn't a wrinkle on his clothes or a freckle on his skin that could escape the eagle eyes of an artist committing a masterpiece. He knew that he wasn't supposed to move around a lot and, to be frank, didn't want to disturb you but there was a thought he couldn't quite let go.

"Can I ask you something?" he interrupted the pleasant silence.

"What's up?" You appeared greatly unbothered by the disturbance, still sketching and checking proportions with your pencil.

"Why did you choose me?" he asked in a quiet hesitation. Partially, he expected a completely mundane answer regarding availability. The more naive part of him, however, clung to the delusion that there was a different, less platonic, reason.

Upon hearing the question, you stopped drawing. Peter caught your gaze but not for long - you went back to sketching but in a visibly less relaxed manner. Noticing your sudden, unexpected uneasiness, Peter wanted to apologize but your answer came sooner:

"Well..." you trailed off, thinking about what to say for a moment. "We were drawing poem titles from a hat. I got 'When' by Lang Leav."

"Don't know it." Peter slightly shook his head but stopped nearly right away, remembering that he was supposed to sit still.

"It ends beautifully," you told him. Peter noticed the softness of your voice along with the gentle smile that appeared on your face as if at that moment you were reliving those last words from a poem. Standing there, with afternoon sunlight brightening up your tender joy, Peter suddenly knew everything he needed to about art. "Remember this and only this, if nothing else you can recall. There was a life a girl once led where you were loved the most of all."

You quoted the poem with such ease as if a garden of blooming roses didn't just rip his chest open.

[goldnskyart]

Doodle of prinxiety from @prince-rowan-of-the-forest hells bells au cause I love them😭

The anatomy sure is,,, something lol but it was really just supposed to be a quick sketch I just got carried away and it ended up like this-

[crypticjackal13]

Mk x shy GF Reader, with the Mk clones? set during the episode Duplicatnation where Mk is dealing with the fact he accidently got carry away with making clones, but not only that, he has to now deal with them fawning all over his girlfriend in their own ways and getting her EXTREMELY flustered and embarrassed, And are our poor boy is getting REALLY jealous.

“Too Many”(1244 w.c.)(Romantic one shot)

MK/Clones x Shy!Fem!Reader

pronouns: she/her

CW: slight possessiveness

One second, y/n was enjoying some quiet time at Pigsy’s because hey, there was a little too much chaos in her life at the moment, and the next, she was apparently texted to meet her lovely boyfriend at Sandy’s boat. This she didn’t mind. Sandy was such a sweet guy, and she’d be lying if she said spending time with the therapy cats wasn’t one of her favorite things to do. 

It was what happened when she got there that was a problem.

The boat was not only a new color, but she could see that familiar red bandana and messy brown hair hard at work painting it. She smiled knowingly, hopping up onto the deck to greet him. 

“MK, hey!” She went to hug him like she always did, but when he turned around, something was terribly off. His eyes had a crazed fire dancing in them as he wielded a paintbrush. But he still returned her affection.

“Y/n! Good, I was hoping you would be fast! I want to paint you!” He explained. She wasn’t opposed to the idea, but she certainly was thrown off by his mannerisms. 

“Like, right now? I’m not sure—“

“All you have to do is sit and be pretty. You’ll look perfect at any angle!”

Even if he was a little unhinged, she was still blushing at his comment. She went and sat on the stool across from a canvas he’d set up, choosing a simple pose that wouldn’t take long—theoretically.

“Beautiful! Yes, you’re the perfect muse!” He beamed, getting to work on an underpainting. Her heart was racing and she felt her face grow hot at his compliments. She held as still as she could, out of worry for what might happen if she shifted even a little. A solid half hour must have passed by now…But her arms were getting tired in the position she was holding them, so she mustered up the courage to say something.

“Hey, can I just take a quick break? Have you got a sketch down?” She asked. The artist stepped away from the canvas, humming while he looked at her. 

“I suppose…just hurry back, okay? This will be a masterpiece as long as you’re here.”

She hopped off of her seat and gave him a quick kiss as she exited the boat, choosing to head back into the city and get something to eat, maybe even stopping at the arcade…Mei was there, right? They hadn’t gotten to hang out lately.

Walking into the building, she could tell once again that something was wrong. But she pushed that feeling aside and continued in, getting some tokens and enjoying some of the games at the front by the entrance. But the music was muffled, like it was only coming from the back of the building, so y/n went to the back and saw two tall guards in front of the door. Once they saw her coming, they immediately opened the door for her, and she hurried past them with a quiet “thanks”. 

Gods, being in that space was already overwhelming—it smelled like soda pop and smoke machines. The music reverberated through the floors that lit up with each beat. And it was crowded past capacity, most likely. Someone was yelling from the DJ booth, but she couldn’t make out the words. 

“Y/n, thank goodness. You need to talk to your boyfriend.” Mei emerged from somewhere in the crowd, taking y/n by her arm and practically yelling to get her point across. 

“But I was just with him on the boat!” She yelled back.

“Then who’s the guy wearing leopard print sitting in the booth?!” 

The two girls got to the front of the room, and lo and behold, there was MK. Y/n was beyond confused. If he was here, then who was the artist she’d just spent time with? He peered through his slitted neon glasses at her, reaching over the turntable and yanking her into the booth with him. It was only a little easier to hear.

“Aw yeah, the life of my porty is here! It’s good to see you showed up!” He exclaimed, giving y/n a kiss. 

“Porty? MK, what are you talking about? What about the painting?”

“Huh? What painting, yo?” He shook his head with a smirk. “Whatever, anyways, c’mon, join in! Let’s make some sweet tunes to get these guys moving!”

“No, hang on, how long have you been in here?” She stopped him, trying to figure out exactly what was happening.

“No idea, babes, all I know is I’m throwing the best porty this arcade has EVER seen!” He put one of the headphones over his ear, before pressing some buttons that changed the music and got things going again. Now that y/n could see the whole crowd, she could also see that they all looked like zombies…some were slumped on the floor, others were trying to keep dancing but stumbled and dragged their feet. Some were even hiding from MK’s sight. Mei was standing by the entrance to the booth, and she didn’t look too hot either. 

“MK, you need to chill out a bit, okay? Let’s go play some games, just you and me.” Maybe if y/n played her cards right, she could get him to be distracted long enough that the crowd could disperse. 

“Not right now, sweet cheeks. After this set, definitely!” He responded. 

“What do we do? He’s lost his mind!” Mei took y/n’s hand again to get her away from the crazed DJ. Y/n shrugged, racking her brain for solutions. 

“Let’s get out of here! There has to be an exit!” She said. 

“Sorry, sweet heart. No one’s leaving this porty!” The DJ came up behind the pair, yanking them both deeper into the booth.

Hours passed as Mei and y/n were stuck inside a giant claw machine. On the plus side they weren’t stuck on the dance floor, but on the downside they were trapped in a much bigger problem than before.

That is, until the skylight broke. Their saving grace was here, hopefully the REAL one. They couldn’t make out what Real MK and Porty MK were saying to each other, but y/n was just overjoyed that MK was okay. What scared the crap out of her were the countless evil clones that were trying to fight him and how she couldn’t really tell who was where doing what. Golden light was everywhere, and before they both knew it, y/n and Mei were out of the claw machine and out of harm’s way. But they were back in the booth, standing behind Real MK. 

“Wait, how can you tell who’s who? He might be the porty clone!” The DJ said. 

“It’s ‘party’!” Mei said.

“Aw man, I played myself.”

And then he disappeared. Y/n was still comprehending the fact that all of that just happened, but of course the explanation was three simple words: “mystic monkey business”. 

“Y/n, are you okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” MK approached y/n, pulling her into a hug that she recognized as his hug. She leaned into him, trying to calm down a bit.

“No, I’m not hurt. Just…frazzled, I guess. Promise you wont make any more clones, okay??” She pulled away from him, grabbing his arms and shaking him back and forth. He laughed the whole time.

“I promise, I promise!”

[whereonceiwasfire]

Just doing a simpy little redesign, as one does. CARRY ON.

I've actually been wanting to play with a Plasmius redesign for a while because I feel like it's, just, RIGHT THERE. Vlad's proclivity toward formal wear lends itself so well to that sort of gothic/vampy/villain aesthetic, and you can still play with a lot of the same vibes even while changing up the elements.

So...that's what I did lol. I went with a capey jacket vs. an actual cape, riffing off the neckline with a vest instead, calling back to the bolo tie a little, etc.

Anyway. This was supposed to be a quick little sketch, but it got away from me and now I'm making it everyone else's problem. Sorry or you're welcome.

[the-archangel]

The opening and closing are brain worm that refused to go away until I wrote them down, so this is the word equivalent of a quick sketch I suppose!

--

“So the satellite exploding, that was you?”

“Mhm.”

“…and the pall of smoke over Arasaka tower, the cops and everything, that was you as well?”

“Erm, yeah I guess.”

The whole collapse of Arasaka, like, all of it, you’re telling me that was you?”

“S’pose.”

“By yourself?”

“Nah, Johnny was there too prolly more than me, and Rogue and Waylon, couldn’t’ve done all that by myself.”

“Huh, OK.”

Kerry had finally persuaded V to tell him about what happened that night and had sat there for the last couple of hours looking, in turn, incredulously and proudly at his mainline.

It had been a difficult few months, Kerry could only watch as V became sicker and less able to look after himself. The merc work dried up when he became too sick – and therefore unreliable – so Kerry looked after him at the villa, kept him active, made sure he was fed and that he drank enough, kept the fixers off his back, sat in the shower with him when it was all too much. Then, Kerry had to go to the studio one afternoon and V disappeared, left a message saying he was on a job and that was the last Kerry saw of him for two weeks, other than a cryptic phone call the next day.

That was the day the satellite exploded, that the tower fell, and that Arasaka was effectively wiped out. Kerry had a feeling that it must be something to do with where V had gone, even spent a couple of days searching around the streets near the tower hoping to find him, but V had taken himself to the Aldecaldos to mend, the separation of himself from Johnny had been more traumatic than he could’ve imagined, for a few days he could barely remember who he was and for a few weeks after that sadness would sometimes overwhelm him, but he felt ready to go home after a couple of weeks and Kerry finally got the call he’d been waiting for,

“Hey Ker, can you come get me?”

Kerry didn’t ask any questions then, he was just happy to have V back, albeit a sadder, thinner, less joyful version, but that was four months ago now and with them in their new condo, and V king of the Afterlife things should be looking good – except of course that V was still sick and was clearly planning something.

-

The morning V left, Kerry coped with it the only way he knew how, by pretending nothing was happening. He might’ve hugged his mainline a little tighter, spoken more openly than he was used to and found it difficult to look him in the eye, but everything was completely normal. Maybe V would have told him what was going on if he had asked, but that would have made it real, so he carried on in blissful ignorance, not even turning as the AV rose towards the sky for fear of the tears running down his cheeks never drying up.

-

What happened at the Crystal Palace is all over the feeds, Kerry has spent the night either glued to his holo waiting for news, or staring up at the now dark spot of the sky where the casino should be. He tells himself that V is the best solo there ever was, if this is his doing then he’ll be fine, whatever the plan was it clearly worked since the feeds are full of stories from evacuated guests telling how the lights went out when all the computers crashed.

For a week, Kerry barely sleeps, doesn’t eat at all and sits alone, waiting for news, good or bad he just needs to know.  After a further week, where Kerry had finally called Vik and Misty for help and is on nine different kinds of medication but at least eating again, he gets a mysterious message from an unknown number that just says, ‘Mission was a success, await further info.’

So he waits, for twenty-six more days he waits. Despite its vagueness the message gave him hope, somewhere out there V was alive. He manages to pick up his guitar again, though what comes out is utter scop, he even manages to do some writing, but what emerges is so personal it will never see the light of day. He buys things for the condo, a new bed, rugs, plants, subconsciously preparing for V’s return.

Finally, forty-one days, six hours and fourteen minutes since they last hugged on the balcony, the message arrives, ‘A car will be arriving shortly to convey you to your destination.’ Vague as ever, but enough.

The cigarette gets hastily stubbed out and Kerry rushes to get his first shower in, well he’s lost count as it goes but it’s been a while. He changes into track pants and one of V’s old shirts and grabs his jacket, piles some clothes into a bag and waits, unsure of what to do next. Fortunately, he doesn’t have long to wait, Del is downstairs so Kerry bolts to the elevator cursing at its slowness.

It’s dark by the time the car reaches its destination, Kerry lost track of where they were a long time ago, but it’s nowhere that he recognises. A huge, non-descript metal building miles from anywhere, no signage, no windows. A white-coated bland-faced doctor meets him at reception chattering about something or other, asking him to sign forms which he does without reading them and leads him down winding corridors before finally opening a door and walking away.

Kerry enters the gloomy room cautiously, his Kiroshis take a while to adjust to the lack of light but a bed can be made out against the far wall so he heads towards it quietly gasping as he sees the sleeping figure lying there. “V…” he breathes, rushing the final few feet and kneeling at the man’s bedside.

He runs the back of a calloused finger over the cleanly-shaved cheek and brings the tips of his fingers down through the tangled mess of his hair, pushing away stray strands from his face as he goes. Those goddamn beautiful eyes slowly open and crinkle adorably at the sides as he smiles, “Ker…” the voice is small and rough but unmistakably V.

-

After two nights of Kerry sleeping precariously on the edge of V’s bed - despite there being a perfectly serviceable second bed in the room – V is well enough to sit in a chair and is looking forward to going home at the end of the week, albeit in a wheelchair and rattling with a dozen different forms of medication.

“You’re all good now? Gonna be stuck with you for the rest of my life and all that shit?” Kerry asks hopefully.

“Mhm,”

“And the unscheduled rocket that took off, that the feeds were all over, that was you?”

“I guess.”

“All the shit with the Crystal Palace blowing, put it right out of service, that was you too?”

“S’pose.”

“By yourself?”

“Yeah, yeah I did it by myself.”

“Shit V, I’m the proudest man alive, but tell me you’re gonna give it a rest now.”

“Course Ker, well, for a while anyways.”

[withersia]

March 27, 2018

I'm going to start naming my CODMW OCs artworks with dates haha

Meet Timothy Villafuerte, Andres's dad!

They're just walking calmly under the hot summer sun of Philippines. Andres is already in military

This was suppose to be a quick sketch with outfits but I got carried away haha

[our-flag-means-death-ao3feed]

[Fan art] Stede portrait

by tabbystardust

Stede Bonnet from Our Flag Means Death.

This was supposed to be just a quick sketch for shading practice but I got carried away with detail as usual...

Words: 0, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Our Flag Means Death (TV)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Stede Bonnet

Additional Tags: Fanart

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/41408835

[somyioki2]

bruh I kind of really miss doing lineups of my characters, I think I should really go back and revisit those sometime

The original idea was that I just wanted to sketch out all my characters in color. It was supposed to be very quick, very simple just so I had their general idea down but ofc I got carried away and suddenly tried to make all the sketches accurate and more detail ;(( which ended up making me give up on it in the end

[evaceratops-art]

SUBMIT (your orbs) TO GRIMA