#well not really an ask meme but that's the tag

[spacebubblehomebase]

What app and what pencil do you use :3?

(I send u big hugs and hav a nice day :D♡)

Hehe. (Hugs back. I like hugs. XD) I believe someone else had a similar question before! I made this art then too to demonstrate how I use, Ibis Paint. The free beginner friendly drawing app! (No I'm not sponsored-) And as for the "pens", I usually go for the default brushes. As in the first basic ones you find on the app! ^v^ I've been promoting this idea for years and I'll never get tired of saying it! While fancier equipment IS nice, skills can ultimately outclass tools any day! =D In fact, sometimes limiting yourself can hone your creativity as it forces you to work with what you have and invent new ways of experimenting with materials that are often overlooked! That's how I learned. ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ -Bubbly💙

[aethermimic]

🪞or 🕳 ! (from @tsunael)

Send 🪞 to see them as a villain (if they are a hero) or vice versa.

From the FFXIV Screenshot Meme ask post! An alternate universe, where Oyuun is a villain instead of a hero... hmm...

"I didn't flee to Eorzea, I went there because it had what I wanted -- the knowledge to become powerful."

"What secrets the thaumaturges refused to teach me, the Amalj'aa were happy to impart for a fee of crystals. Oh sure, I razed their camp later with the Scions, but that just means there was no one to tattle on my little enterprise."

"Why do it? Haha, it's rather simple -- because everyone in the Steppe deserves to burn, and I aim to be the match that will light the rotten tinder."

"Maybe they'll come to regret what they did to me when they have to bow to the witch that slew everyone they ever cared for. Ha! Haha!"

"Submit or become ash. Either way, I get what I want -- hahahahaha!"

[pauls1967moustache]

hey babe! if you’re still doing this can we get a perspective flip for one and one and one is three? x

I see none of you fell for my clever ruse of not including a real Paul reaction because I didn’t know how to write it…

Yoko slides away, leaving Paul bent beneath John and only John.

Paul finds himself disappointed she’s gone. Without Yoko’s steady weight holding him down, he’s too aware of his body, folded over and aching. Impaled with John inside him, holding Paul’s composure open like a doorstop. Paul can’t get a handle on himself. He feels like if he tries to move he’s going to dissolve into a puddle of mushed, clammy organs. There’s sweat cooling at his temples, and John’s skin feels hot like a branding iron against Paul’s belly. The clashing sensations make him tremble. Lost to the thick of it, Paul has nothing to hold on to but John’s mouth against lips.

He tries to breathe, grasping at John like a life raft, but John floats away from him, and suddenly, Paul is sinking.

Just like that, it’s all so empty. Paul watches John lean over Yoko, grinning wildly as she whines for him, and he feels so far away he may as well be watching from underwater. He feels the weight of an ocean pressing, and pressing, and pressing on his heart, and all he can think is he’ll never reach John again.

He turns away. Stares at the emerald lampshade covering the bulb handing down from John and Yoko’s ceiling. Listens to their ragged moans, and panting breaths, until John grunts—guttural—and oppressive silence falls over them.

John rolls off Yoko, bumping Paul’s shoulder. Paul finds, strangely and distantly, that he can’t really breathe until John’s no longer touching him.

The unexpected stillness of the moment makes Paul feel woozy. Nauseous. There’s not enough air in the room. His heart’s going like it intends to crap out. He’s trapped there in some horrible paroxysm, feeling everything too much to really process it as anything. It’s just sensations. Just claustrophobic discomfort.

He feels a touch, feather-light against his wrist, and he knows at once that something terrible is going to happen if he doesn’t get out, now.

“I should get back, you know. Linda,” he blurts out—his own voice echoing in his ears like it’s coming from somewhere else.

He thinks John might’ve said something to that, but he doesn’t hear it. His mind only able to focus on one thing at a time: stand up, pick up clothes, walk, walk, walk, shut the door. And then he’s standing alone in John and Yoko’s guest bathroom.

He stands there for a moment staring at the tidy, impersonal sink, and the clean toilet, and the small, square window—pitch black behind the obscure glass. Where before he was feeling everything, he feels nothing now. Only base instincts.

Step furthers into space, set the pile of clothes on the floor, pull pants up, zip, (hands are shaking, hands are shaking, hands are shaking). Close the toilet, sit, roll sock right side out again, pull it on.

And it’s only when his foot’s down, and he’s staring at his clothes, lying rumpled on the soft, peach rug on the bathroom floor, that he registers that something deep, deep inside his ribcage hurts.

And then, Paul bursts out crying.

“Fuck,” he hisses to himself, pressing the heels of his hands tight into his eyes, as if he could put a stop to it. As if anyone’s here to see. He’s alone. John didn’t follow him. He knows—though he wasn’t aware that he knew—John’s gone for good. Paul can’t reach him. He’s drifted too far.

He feels the wet slide of tears escape past his hands, tickling down his face, trailing into his beard. He feels ridiculous. His right foot is cold from the still missing sock, and he’s sitting on a toilet lid, and he can’t stop gasping for breath as he weeps, and in his eyes all he sees is them, pressed together, moaning together, kissing—fuck. Fuck!

Paul hears a horrible whimpering sound, and knows it’s coming from himself. He feels mortification curdling in his belly. He’s caught between his own humiliation and the deeper thing; the thing gripping his chest and pushing behind his eyes. He hiccups out desperate breaths, and wipes at his wet cheeks so roughly his skin burns, but it doesn’t make it any less absurd, and it doesn’t stop his heart from wringing it all out of him. He’s left pleading with himself: “Stop. Stop. Fucking stop!”

He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. It’s not like he didn’t know. He’s well aware that John’s in love with her. He did this because he knew that. Because a little bit of John is better than no John. But christ, he doesn’t think he can fucking do it all again for the rest of this fucking album—sit there and watch John choose her again.

He chokes out another sob, and swallows it down like swallowing razorblades.

He knew this. He knew. He doesn’t need to cry about it, when he already knew.

He folds in on himself, curling into his knees, and feels a dull muscle ache down his back, because this is how John had him earlier, and well. He didn’t know about all that.

He tastes something bitter in the back of his throat, because if he’d known. If John had only—

Well, why did he ask now? Years they’ve been teetering on the edge of something, and if this is something John knew he wanted then why did he never say it, before? Why now, with her, when Paul would’ve—

Well, maybe not would’ve, but he could’ve—

Stop, Paul thinks,because what he does know is he’s on the precipice of something too heavy to bear.

His body goes chasing it without him. He can feel the echoes: John’s gentle touch; the kind, softness in his voice. John had looked at him like—

And maybe Paul didn’t know know, but he knew that he and John—that the way he felt about John—

“Stop,” Paul says out loud. His voice comes out hoarse but firm.

He blinks his eyes open and stares at his clothes for a very long time, and doesn’t think about anything at all except for how there’s a loose thread on the rug tickling the arch of his foot.

Eventually, his breath evens out. The skin of his face feels weird. Conspicuously dry, and awkward when he moves a bit, like his tears left a crisp shell of grief over his skin. Paul takes a deep breath and swallows. He pokes through the pile of clothes for his other sock.

He dresses slowly, going through the motions like when he’d come in here, but present in himself now that the anxiety’s been rinsed out of him. He feels lighter, though not necessarily better. Mostly he just feels tired. He wants a drink, and Linda’s arms wrapped around him. He wants to be somewhere someone’s still got a use for him.

By the time he’s dressed, and looking at himself in the mirror, any redness from the crying is gone. He’s left with his own pale reflect, blinking listlessly back at him. That’ll do, he supposes. That sort of looks like a person.

[jazzzzzzhands]

HI JAZZ! So I’m thinking if you can make a doodle about Howdy holding Wally in his arm(or if you don’t want to, that’s completely fine:)Right now, I am really OBSESSED with your artstyle! ⭐️

*👆for example*

i do not ship them BUT

i think i'm funny!!

this also helped me get a lil comfier in stylizing howdy hehe

you like my artstyle?? THANK YOU QwQ

im gonna continue to improve!

Wally just wanted to be carried, and who can tell him no?

[kakusu-shipping]

I’m making a Mario Series Shipping Chart and Bowser is making it incredibly difficult to format

[good-beanswrites]

Hello, I've been thinking about your actors au. Are you doing anything about Rei and Mikio being the only side characters with faces in the first trial? Because I do have a theory about that which I haven't posted but I always thought that was really interesting. Even Yamanaka pointed it out in the first anniversary stream.

Ah, I definitely want to!! Mikio is the man in Harrow, right? (There's also maybe-Rumerie in Bring it On who drives me crazy to this day asdfsd) I'm hoping once the project ends and we get the bigger picture, I can really highlight their relationships more. I'll touch on some of my ideas real quick, but I'd love to hear your theory if you ever end up posting it 👀

My problem is, I originally thought the faces show the prisoners' love towards them, and not necessarily mutual relationship -- which causes some hiccups with including them as characters in the au... (Including t2 faces), Haruka hungers for his mother's love, but given her abuse, they couldn't in good conscience have her on set with him. Rumerie may have been some sort of friend, but he didn't seem so close that he'd be okay seeing Fuuta again and being implicated in his crime. Muu cares very deeply for Rei, but even if the murders never occurred, I can't picture a young girl would feel safe filming her own death at the hands of her bully... I ran into a similar issue with Mahiru and Kazui's partners, but as adults I felt like it was easier and safer for them to consent to the situation.

However! The fact that Kotoko's victim has a clear face really interests me, because that's the only one that (seemingly) has no established relationship or love between them. What could Muu's realtionship with her classmate have in common with Kotoko's and the victim she hunted down from a distance? So I'd love to compare with your thoughts and reevaluate my theory as the new mvs come out...

[ultramarine-spirit]

in the novel why claude so refuses to let Athy leave the palace alone? I remember that Claude did not allow athy to leave the Palace and every time she asked him to go to a tea party he always refused very strongly, even after athy returned to it he still had a hard time allowing athy to leave the palace alone.

I don't think there's another reason other than Claude being very, very overprotective of Athy.

To be fair, Athy had... more than a couple of near-death experiences (some of them because of Claude's own fault lol), so I can understand him to a certain extent. Plus she's a princess, the only princess and heir to the throne, so her going outside of the palace is a pretty risky thing, overprotectiveness aside. And Athy made it a point that she didn't want to go with guards, so despite her being a magic user and being more than capable of taking care of herself (as proven by her surviving for... months? outside of the palace during the amnesia arc), it still would be dangerous.

But a thing that I really liked about Claude and Athy's relationship development in the novel was that, when Athy returns and Claude still didn't have his memories back, she is like "okay, this kind of dynamic can't go on, I'm going to be more independent and you are going to have to trust me and be okay with it". And so she has her own birthday party (Claude being uninvited lmao) and goes outside of the palace. Of course, Claude is uneasy about it, but he lets her do it anyways, since he'll give Athy whatever she wants. Athy says that she wants to change their broken relationship and build trust between them, have an actually healthy father-daughter bond (this is a very mature thing of her to do just after going through incredibly traumatic events).

It's not the same as the manhwa scenes when Claude apologizes to Athy and cries, or when he opens up to her before the coronation, but I think that narratively they serve the same purpose of moving forward their relationship, and them finally being honest with each other. For me, they are the natural conclusion to Claude and Athy's arc in both versions, because WMMAP's main point is that family relationships take effort and time, they require mutual understanding and honesty. Real love is not just a thing automatically granted by blood ties or magic, that is a naïve notion that the narrative goes very against of and actively calls out.

In the novel scene, Athy then says that she'll always tell Claude beforehand when she plans of going outside, and that she'll always come back. As long as Claude waits for her, she won't disappear forever, because that is her home. "Where you are is where I should return to", because he would always be her dad, and she would always be his daughter.

From my point of view, Claude's overprotectiveness of Athy comes from his lonely life and fear of abandonment. Diana promised to be with him forever, and yet she died and left him alone. Athy almost died more than once too. He fixiates on her good bye to him at the debutante because of that, and he is afraid of Athy growing up and building her own family in the manhwa for that very same reason. Claude is terrified of Athy leaving him behind, in one way or another. It's understandable, considering his backstory and characterization, and that's also why I find it so beautiful that Athy takes it into her hands to reassure him that such thing won't happen. In both novel and manhwa, she takes the initiative of building real trust between them, while also demanding that Claude apologizes for hurting her and that he changes his unhealthy behavior, and reaffirming her own independence (not asking for it!).

I know this is probably not where you wanted the conversation to go, but I couldn't help myself. Their development is one of my favorite things about WMMAP.

[midgesrphub]

((I'm lowkey tempted just to reblog memes here once I get everything up and running so I don't have to reblog them to each blog

[ruby-red-inky-blue]

For the ask thing: is there a media (written, film, series...) you're really into right now?

Whelp, I doubt any of my followers managed to avoid noticing the giant Dimension 20-shaped hole I fell into like half a year back, and it's currently airing the third season of the silliest sweetest High School drama and these characters have my entire heart. I've not been that well for a while I think, and watching both people in their thirties just be very close friends and also watching the very thight-knit teenagers they're playing is giving me so much serotonin by proxy. It is addictive and frankly a bit of a problem, but I do really recommend it, everything they do is so fascinating narratively and I think it's taught me a lot about writing.

It's also invigorated a dormant trait of my personality which is that I was apparently abnormally into Grimm's fairy tales even for a German child? This comes up every now and again and then I immediately forget it but I've been really wanting to buy a copy and read some of them again, dark confusing fairy tales are my absolute catnip and maybe I could actually do it on purpose for once.

[nebulainatree]

Girl who has severe social anxiety when it comes to talking to people online and has to close her eyes to press the send button whenever she writes a message to anyone 😔

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

ME ASK U THE 21TH QUESTIONS

21. Art styles nothing like your own but you like anyways

hard one to answer b/c 1) i don't even know what exactly what category my art style would fall in, so therefore i don't necessarily know what would be the opposite of it? 2) idk how to properly categorize art styles in general or like the names and stuff [aside from like generic umbrella categories]

its kinda basic[???] but i do def have admiration for the rubberhose cartoon style, and/or also like that sort of early western 2000s cartoon style?? really exaggerated expressions and fun dynamic poses that sort of break proper logic but LOOK really fun and expressive in general, i wish i could do smthn like that lolll

there's also just some art styles that i feel are more soft and "rounded" ig?? i have no idea if that makes sense but those are sometimes interesting to look at too, i feel personally my art style's very like pointy/sharp? so i feel like i struggle w/ trying to make smthn softer w/ rounded edges and cutesier? (like best example i'd be able to think of is making like chibis. i suck at those 😭)

i have mixed feelings on [photo?]realism, and idk if this necessarily correlates w/ that but for a really niche one: vintage woodcut/lithograph illustrations (basically the really scratchy sorta ones you'd see in like really old books or newspapers?) are so fascinating to me, especially more so considering the medium but i also just like how they look its very interesting... not sure how to describe it properly b/c there's also quite some variation but it just looks so coolll

weirdly specific artist asks

[hellpupp]

Big Sad

[lieutenant-amuel]

Okay so mushroom for Ángel (although I feel like I know the answer XD), sunflower for Fausto and palm tree for Stanislaw and/or Lyudmila, if you'd like to

Thank you so much, Blue!

🍄 [MUSHROOM] How likely is your OC to eat random berries/mushrooms they find?

I love this question for Ángel XD Anyway, I think it’s quite plausible for several reasons: 1) he’s curious 2) he loves spending his time outdoors 3) he rarely thinks through

Ángel was strolling around the jungle trails, carelessly swinging his arms, until his eye was caught by a bush of bright red berries, “Oh, check it out, Gabe! Those berries look rad! I’m gonna taste it.”

Trudging through the thickets, Gabriel made his way to Ángel and stood next to the bush with his arms crossed and his eyes squinted, “Are you sure you should? What if they’re poisonous?”

“Is there any other way to find out?” Ángel laughed as he was examining the bush from all angles so he could choose the best berry to taste.

“Looking up in the atlas?” Gabriel muttered as he raised his eyebrow.

Ángel snorted and waved his arm at his incredulous friend. Once there was a berry that passed Ángel’s tough selection, he plucked it with a crunch and tossed it into his mouth.

Gabriel rolled his eyes yet he wasn’t surprised he’d been ignored again. As Ángel was chewing the berry, he turned to Gabriel and exclaimed, “See? Nothing happ—”

Ángel put his hand on his head as his knees buckled, and he fell on the ground. Gabriel’s eyes widened, and he rushed to Ángel, shaking his shoulder.

“Ángel!”

Gabriel grabbed Ángel’s hand and placed his fingers on his wrist to check his pulse and suddenly heard a giggle.

Gabriel frowned and saw how Ángel was slowly raising his head from the ground with a broad smile and intensifying laughter. Gabriel was staring at him, and once their eyes met, he pushed Ángel in his chest and got to his feet.

“Oh c’mon, Gabe! That was a joke!” Ángel exclaimed, trying to apologize yet he kept laughing.

He plucked a few more berries from the bush and caught up with Gabriel, handing them to him.

“As we got, they’re not poisonous,” Gabriel suspiciously looked at the berries and shifted his gaze to Ángel’s awkwardly smiling face.

Exhaling heavily, he took one berry and timidly put it into his mouth, slowly chewing it. Waiting for a few seconds to make sure nothing would happen to him, he looked at Ángel.

“Never joke like this.”

“Of course not! I wouldn’t want to put us in a berry situation again.”

“Now that was a very bad pun.”

“Yeah, I know. I had no ideas.”

Gabriel chuckled and took a few more berries from Ángel’s hand.

“You know, I plucked the berries you’re eating now from another bush. They taste even better.”

Gabriel froze for a moment and spat a berry out of his mouth which made Ángel laugh again.

🌻 [SUNFLOWER] Where would your OC get lost in the moment/beauty of the place?

Oh Fausto baby boy. It’s been such a long time since I’ve talked about him.

Okay, I’m not sure how to answer this question because I really don’t know x) But since he’s a musician, I can imagine him being absolutely fascinated by the concert halls especially when he performed on stage for the first time himself.

Fausto timidly pulled back the curtain and looked at the audience through a narrow gap. The concert hall was filled with people pointing their gazes at the stage and awaiting the beginning of the show.

Fausto clutched to the neck of his violin and abruptly moved away from the curtain, walking around the stage in circles.

It was the first concert he performed.

Many years spent composing on a violin and sharing his little works with his family and friends yet he couldn’t help but feel a lump in his throat and how his palms were sweating when he pictured himself in front of the crowd of people staring at him in his head.

Fausto stopped when his draining anxiety was replaced by the warm words of encouragement he heard from his parents the day before the concert.

You make us happy, mijo.

They were proud of him. They always told him that. They knew how passionate he was and had no doubt he would give his all today.

A slight smile shone on Fausto’s face, and he turned towards the curtain as it was slowly opening. The concert was about to begin. He took a deep breath and placed his violin on his shoulder, gazing at the applauding audience.

He closed his eyes, and his bow was slowly running over the strings. The music coming from the violin dissolved in the air and intertwined with the pictures of his past that he could see in front of him despite still having his eyes closed.

The day his parents gave him his violin and encouraged him to create and be himself. Family “concerts” he arranged with his Abuela Scarlett. The first time he visited “a secret concert” his Papá and Tío Ángel visited themselves when they were teenagers.

He got lost in the moment and lowered his hand holding a bow and heard a loud applause which made him wake up from the trance and open his eyes widely. He saw how people were getting up from their seats to give him a standing ovation and heard how they were screaming his name.

Fausto froze for a moment, and then his lips curled into a soft smile. He bowed and scanned the concert hall, noticing his parents who were clapping and cheering for him more than anyone else in the auditorium.

He chuckled as he was overfilled with his own emotions and bowed for the last time before the curtain was closed.

🌴 [PALM TREE] What are the stops on your OC's dream cruise? What boat are they on?

To be honest, this question is hard in itself and given the fact I hesitate giving the answer without discussing it with you first, it makes it even harder x)

Anyway, I’ll probably go with Lyudmila because her dream seems clearer to me than Stanislaw’s (I’m not sure what his dream even is?). She’s a knyaz, she wants to be a good ruler, to restore her kingdom to greatness, and given the fact how responsible and good at planning she is, she definitely knows what steps she has to make to achieve it. But the shadows of the past might pull her down.

After discussing the trade plans with the court, Lyudmila stayed in the council chamber to take a closer look at the treaties she thought of concluding with foreign kingdoms.

She smiled as she realized that Lachia’s position on the world stage was getting better and better every year and her own people rejoiced and felt more protected. They extolled her, they loved her, they didn’t hesitate to brag about how they had the best ruler in all of the EverRealm.

Lyudmila was flattered. But not in the sense that she felt unworthy of their praise. As a born royal, she always knew her own worth and strived to carry it as she was supposed to. Which, as she and the rest of Lachians could see, was successful.

She knew what she wanted to achieve and what was more important: she knew exactly what to do next to keep her kingdom flourished. It wasn’t exhausting, nor pressuring, it was natural and gratifying.

As Lyudmila was sorting out the papers, she came across an old torn sheet. She frowned and turned it to the other side with a quiet gasp. It was a letter Aleksandr wrote to her many years ago. When Stanislaw was gone.

Her eyes were running over the lines, and without reaching the end, she shook her head and put the letter on the desk to get back to her work.

It'd been several years since she’d found out the truth. Her best friend was to blame for the death of the man she loved. He’d earned her trust so he could lie to her and pretend that nothing happened. He betrayed her. And she still couldn’t forgive him.

She covered her forehead with her hand with a deep sigh as she couldn’t focus on anything else anymore. The only thing she thought about was Aleksandr. The day when she found out the truth.

Lyudmila kept standing in the middle of the room with her head down and suddenly heard a knock on the door. She turned her head and saw Stanislaw.

“Your Majesty,” he bowed as he kept standing at the doorway.

Lyudmila smiled, “We’re alone, Stasio. Come in.”

He entered the room, and Lyudmila was going to give him a hug but saw how he had his bandura on his back.

“I was going to play with the kids and thought I could perform something on my bandura!” He said and took a musical instrument in his hands, slowly strumming the strings.

“Remember how you heard me playing for the first time and then we spent our whole evenings together?”

“Yes. I remember. And how you were teaching me.”

“Trying to teach you,” Stanislaw laughed, and Lyudmila scoffed softly.

“And that was your favourite song.”

Stanislaw started playing, and Lyudmila was swaying slightly, remembering how she also heard this melody in her dreams when Stanislaw was gone. How it reminded her of him and how she never forgot him.

Once the music trailed off, Stanislaw glanced at Lyudmila and she fell into his arms.

“I love you.”

Stanislaw, not being caught off guard at all, responded to her embrace and whispered, “I love you, too, Miła.”

They released each other from their arms, and Lyudmila glanced at the desk filled with papers.

“You know, I’ve been working for quite a long time now, so I think I’ll join you.”

Stanislaw kissed Lyudmila on her forehead and took her hand with a beam. She smiled back.

OC Ask Game

[scalproie]

yeah. vergil

Vergil...

[strwbrymlkshake]

finished my normalcy phase returning to the horrors

[h00f]

woah, hi! it’s been a while!

i’ve just finished another year of college, and i think i want to try taking my blog back and using it for my own enjoyment! i’m going to start posting more art i’ve been making, but also reblogging things! and sharing thoughts! ive really, really missed being able to do that, so i’m starting it again now! no more fear :)

i just posted a piece from my last semester, and i will probably put up some more later tonight and tomorrow! hopefully even reblogging things here again!!

i hope you’re all doing well, and ily!