#wish i was a talented enough artist to draw this

[alchemiclee]

I hate when people who have never put any effort into drawing or art tell me i'm gifted/talented at it. they often say things like "I wish I could draw/I can't even draw a straight line/I always wanted to but was never good at it"

nearly 30 years of practice and hard work with nothing to show for it is not being gifted or talented! i've always felt this way no matter what age I was

I especially think this when I see artists younger than me who have more success. they're more likely "talented" or i'd be as good and successful as them, right? be better at art than I am now with less practice and work? if I was so "talented" i'd be way better at art by now and have some kind of success, right? be able to quickly and effortlessly produce beautiful work?

I feel like art is an absolute struggle every time I do it. it doesn't come "naturally" or effortlessly. it takes me forever to finish even a simple sketch. I struggle the entire time. it's so hard. someone "talented" probably wouldn't feel this way and say art is easy. the difference between me and being "talented" is I work hard and still struggle.

[axelartsink]

🎄Merry Christmas from Papa and the Ghouls🎄

A little collab I did with a lot of talented artist on Instagram! I wish y'all a wonderful Christmas!

(I didn't draw all the ghouls bc I didn't have enough time, sorry if what I write it doesn't have sense, I'm drunk msmsm)

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

← Smutlet masterlist

18+ Squirting

Bucky had been at it for hours. Taunting you. Teasing you. Tantalizing. Tormenting. His fingers, be it flesh or vibranium, tickled your skin with the tiniest of pressures. Enough to get your blood pumping. The pulps of his calloused digits pushed into your skin, kneading, fondling, massaging every inch of your body. He knew exactly how to read you, how to arouse you. From the feather light brushes against your abdomen to the deep pressure on your thighs.

“Look how beautiful you are.”

He hushed your pleading whines and kissed away your petulant pouts. He reassured you that he simply wanted to take his time. But his eyes told a different story. The determined glint in those beautiful blues told you that he had a plan. 

“Let me take care of you.”

The way he moved was exquisite, smooth, like fluid. Bucky’s ministrations were so distracting that you only realized he was undressing you when your tank top caught the tip of your nose. He apologized, nuzzling you, peppering kisses over the offended organ. He never failed to make you feel loved, even when he was planning on doing the dirtiest things to you.

“I love you like this.”

Exposed. Fully. Stripped bare of every thread that covered your form. That’s how he liked it. Bucky loved having access to each and every part of you. He worked on all your sensitive areas, intimately familiar with how your nipples responded to his touch. Under his attention, they had the ability to grow as tall as mountains and as hard as diamonds. He chuckled darkly as you writhed with pleasure beneath him.

"Just like that, Doll?"

You nodded, your mind lost in the moment. His lips left marks as worked on your skin. He was the artist and you were his canvas, ready to be molded to his pleasing. There were no limits to his abilities to draw out your beauty. 

“I will coax every gasp, every moan, every noise I can get out of you.”

He didn't waste time in making good on his assurances.  Bucky put his talented tongue to use, licking thick stripes over your folds. It left you crying out for more, only for him to oblige. His lips formed a circle around your clit, which he gave a warning lick before applying the perfect amount of pressure to make you scream. Bucky watched out of the top corners of his eyes as you arched your back and clutched at the bedsheets.

“I'm here. I'm right here. Hold onto me.”

Next he introduced you to his fingers, smooth and cold but once they were coated in your slick arousal, they slid in and out of your sheath with ease. Bucky felt you stretch as he pushed in and out, caressing your walls with his dark and golden digits. He was an expert in finding that special place where you were most sensitive and made the most of his talents. Brushing against you with the most erotic pace. His lips pressed against the top of your head.

“Wish I could fuck you right now. I want you to sit on my cock, be so deep inside you until you’re screaming for everyone to hear… ‘til you forget who you are and all you can think about is how good I make you feel. But that’s not the plan. I want to make you squirt all over my pants and ruin them.”

You gasped at his words. He let the pressure build within you at an agonizingly slow pace. Every movement elicited its own special sound from you, he played your body like an instrument to the tune of a symphony of his desires. Everyone of these notes rang with the melody of your pleasure.

“Are you going to give me what I want, Doll? Are you going to come for me?”

Bucky murmured as he continued to bring you closer to your climax. An old familiar feeling coiled inside of you, ready to be released at any moment. He pulled your hips into his lap, looking hungrily at your sex, like he could devour you right there. But he had a plan and he was going to follow through. He licked his flesh fingers and pressed them against your swollen nub. Rubbing perfect circles to drive you over the edge. You squeezed your eyes shut as your walls clenched around him. Waves of ecstasy rolling through your body. Back arched. Toes curled. Heart pounded. Bucky's plan came to fruition as your sweet juices poured out around his fingers.

“That's my girl. You did such a good job for me. Just look at this mess you've made. All for me.”

He smiled down at you, looking proud of his pretty princess. 

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — IDOL! GOJO x ROCKSTAR! FEM READER

Gojo loves the untouchable. You’re an off limits rockstar who thinks he’s an idiot. The only thing he can do is take that as a challenge, right?

wc — 6.8k

tags — non detailed mention of idol industry EDs, pride and prejudice type energy tbh, reader is a little superior about being in a rock band and not “selling out”, Gojo has an annoying habit of pointing out their hypocrisy, sneaking around because you’re public figures, nsfw jokes, minor nongraphic blood

Gojo’s not your usual type. He’s too pretty for that, with those long lashes like a doll’s. They’re stark against his pale skin when he flirts with you, peering alluringly at you through half closed eyes like the cheap tricks that get his fangirls to scream will work on you. 

He’s too easy to break for your taste, but from what you hear on Twitter, that’s why people like him. There’s something charming about the gap in his image that draws people in. People are dying for a taste of vulnerability because he's so cocky, but it's easy to make him beg.

There’s a million clips all over the internet of the moments he’s caught off guard, carefully hoarded instances in his career where a genuine embarrassed flush comes over his cheekbones, made into gifs and Tik Toks and YouTube videos. 

That’s not your thing. 

You like people with tough hearts and tougher reputations. People who could take the beating of public opinion without a flinch, not some soft spoken idol who needs his management to hold his hand through an apology. You like your fans, but they know their limit with you.  

It’s not love, not like with an idol. It would never be, you made sure of it. You’d quit before you ever issued an apology for dating someone. 

You hate to be a stereotype almost as much as you hate the idea of becoming a pushover, but you’ve dated a string of bad boy exes who were all exactly what you would expect for the lead singer of a rock band. A little rough around the edges, dark and smoldering. Men who would wear your red lipstick marks like a badge of honor. People who had never even heard of something like an idol image. 

Maybe that’s why no one saw it coming. You were safe, established. Gojo was out of your usual pitch. 

It’s too bad for the fans that you’ve always been a bit of a daredevil. Trying new things has never scared you. You’ve always been willing to test your limits to find the gold in the muck. That’s how you grow. 

That’s how you ended up here, sitting thigh to thigh with the boy wonder of the idol industry. 

“Aren’t you playing a dangerous game here?” You ask as he nudges even closer to you, far beyond what you’re sure his fans will permit. You’ve heard horror stories about the lengths people will go to if they see their idols even look at someone of the opposite gender. 

“Why, you scared?”

“You wish. You’re the idol here. It’s your reputation on the line.”

He smiles at you, saccharine sweet. “I don’t like letting other people control me.” 

That earns your begrudging respect, even if his bony knee is knocking into yours. He’s so lanky it makes you a touch concerned. Shoko’s girlfriend is an idol, and she’s constantly sneaking her food under her manager’s notice. 

That’s another reason why you could never be an idol. Letting someone else dictate your life like that sounds like hell. It was hard enough to convince you to be here in the first place. 

Your band doesn’t do promotion, least of all you. It’s all homegrown talent and homegrown fans, but you’re in stasis. Your growth has plateaued. Like all artists, you’re beholden to bills to pay to keep the music going. You’re big enough to know when you have to make sacrifices. 

It’s nothing personal. That’s just the industry, from pop stars to idols to bands like you. If nothing else, you all share the solidarity of giving anything for the music. You just think you have a harder limit for anything than idols do. 

The host kicks off the segment before you have time to do further analysis. 

“Welcome back to Hot or Not, the variety show where we pit your favorite internet heartthrobs against each other! Please welcome today’s guests - they may not be the duo you expect!” 

The camera pans to you and Gojo. His smile is instant, soft and natural, as real as if he were genuinely overjoyed to be here. You have to give him props for that, at least. He’s good at his job. 

As soon as the camera pans to you, his expression flickers and returns to bored disinterest. He yawns, his teeth pearly white. Veneers, maybe. His tongue flicks around the sharp tip of one canine, his smirk nearly fanged. There’s the feature he’s so famous for, the one that has him edited into cat reaction memes all across the internet. Kitty Gojo and his kitten fangs. 

He’s a grown man. You think you’d jump off a building before you let your teenage girl fans put cat ears on you and coo at you. 

To each their own, you guess. Gojo didn’t seem that perturbed by it. To be fair, he didn’t seem perturbed by anything. 

“Let’s start with Gojo! Remember, if you don’t feel like answering a question, we’ll put you in a surprise challenge with your partner.” 

“Sure,” he says easily. “I’m an open book.” 

“Let’s start easy. What’s your favorite song off your new album, Blue Spring?” 

Gojo makes a face. “Pass.” 

“Sorry, maybe you didn’t understand the question-“

“No, I got it. That’s boring,” he says. “Give me the challenge.” 

You’re amused despite yourself, and fighting not to let it show. There’s the troublesome personality you’ve heard so much about. He wouldn’t be half so popular if he wasn’t so pretty, but that attitude and that face made for a dangerous combination. 

The host is trying to salvage the situation with an easygoing laugh. Backstage, you hear someone mutter, “Gojo is gojo-ing again.” 

It’s all so funny until you realize he’s dragging you into his mess as they set up the challenge. 

Your host explains the rules too quickly for you to catch in their entirety, but it’s something along the lines of a staring contest. You’re supposed to do everything in your power to make the other lose a straight face, with words or actions. 

“Are you allowed to do this?” You joke as they start strapping the electrodes on you to measure your heart rate. 

“What do you mean?” Gojo’s mussing his hair up so he looks more artistically roguish. 

“You know, just being an idol and all. I figured you wouldn’t be able to do things like this without your fangirls jumping on you.” 

“Ah,” he says, scooting his chair closer to you. You’re knee to knee as they finish the last details of fiddling with machine. “You’re one of those types?” 

“And that means?” 

“You think I’m an idiot because I’m an idol.” 

“I didn’t say that,” you protest, watching the monitor to make sure your heart rate isn’t jumping with your words. It’s just a game, but you’re competitive. 

“No, but you’re thinking it. What else? Maybe you think idols are also soulless grifters?”

You wince. It’s not that you think so terribly of idols, per se, you just understand and recognize their need to please their company. They’re products before they’re people. 

“I got it right, huh?” He’s pleased with himself. 

“Am I wrong?” You retort. “You’re really going to tell me you love singing your overproduced pop music for the tween girls who will buy anything you put out as long as you’re pretty enough?” 

“Aren’t you here too? Lot of talk for someone who’s sitting right next to the sellout. You know what they say about birds of a feather…”

It’s all in a whisper, so no one else hears - or sees your startled reaction to find out the pampered show dog has a little bite in him. You could retaliate, but if you’re being honest? 

This makes you respect him more. 

He’s right, anyway. You did sell out by being on this show. 

The machine beeps. He smiles, slow and sweet - or at least it would be if you didn’t already know there was an edge to it. “I win.” 

“Wow!” You’ve never found the host more annoying. “That got heated at the end, didn’t it, folks? Do you mind sharing what Gojo said?”

You smile at the camera in a way that feels more like you’re beating your teeth. “It’s a secret.” 

You’re not mad at him. If anything, you’re impressed. The person you’re really disappointed with is yourself.

So he’s not what he thought you were. So he challenged your biased preconceptions on idols. So what? 

It doesn’t mean anything, but you can’t get him out of your head. 

The rest of the show is an easy and welcome distraction from your inner turmoil over the possibility of maybe potentially tolerating an idol. Throwing out witty answers and being neck to neck with Gojo in winning mini games is much preferable to having to experience emotions. It’s only when it’s over that the problems start. 

You watch as he gets up, biting your lip and debating to yourself. It’s only when he’s halfway out the door that you make your decision. You’ve always been a do or die kind of girl. 

“Hey. Want to get dinner?”

You just want to make sure he’s eating. No other reason. 

His manager frowns behind him. 

“We’re in a weird spot,” he says. “The only thing around are convenience stores.” 

“That’s fine,” you say. “We can get instant ramen.” 

“I’ve never had instant noodles,” Gojo says. 

“Seriously?”

“No, not seriously,” he scoffs. “Just what kind of lives do you think we lead?”

“Deprived ones,” you toss over your shoulder as you lead him towards your monster of a customized car. 

“Oh, no,” his manager is beginning, but Gojo is already sliding comfortably into the passenger seat. His poor manager looks nervously at you as you turn the keys. “Are you sure that thing is safe?” 

“Don’t worry,” you tell him. “If this thing crashes, I’m in here too.” 

You don’t think that reassures him, but your own manager will handle it. You pull out of the parking space and head for the road. 

Gojo’s impatient. He tries the handle almost before you’re done parking. You’re like that too - always ready to move. This time, you’re one step ahead. You lock the door before he can leave. He gives you a startled look and glances outside again, clearly weighing his options. 

“Relax,” you say. “I’m not a crazed fan. Put these on before we attract an actual stalker of yours.” 

You toss him a hat, sunglasses, and a mask. You’ve started keeping them in your car ever since you’ve been hanging out with Shoko and her girlfriend, who was famous enough to get recognized in the street for her autograph. He wrinkles his nose but obediently puts them on. 

It doesn’t do much to hide his overall air of Gojo-ness. He steps into the store like he owns it, which he very well could.

The steam rises from your bowls and coats Gojo’s sunglasses. You’re surprised he can see inside, but he has no trouble navigating. He tells you he has 20/20 vision. 

One thing leads to another and suddenly he’s bragging about his perfect grades when he attended school. He’s a natural genius, which isn’t really a surprise. 

“I thought you were supposed to be a bad boy,” you tease. His glasses are slipping down his nose. You reach out to push them back up before anyone notices. His eyes are rather remarkable, after all. Anyone would be able to tell who he was at a glance. 

“Me?” He gives a choked laugh. It sounds nice. You’ve haven’t heard it before, not during the show. He was more polished then. The ways in which he rebels against being an idol show up unexpectedly.  “Nah. That’s all Getou. He’s the one with a hidden face. You wouldn’t believe what he’s like when the cameras are off.” 

“Somehow I don’t believe you,” you joke. 

“I’m serious,” he whines. “I’m pretty sheltered. Grew up rich, you know?” 

Who doesn’t know? The Gojo name is pretty famous. One of the biggest conglomerates in the entire world, it broke major news outlets when the heir chose to be an idol instead of the next president. 

He’s always been in the public eye, but kept separate like art at a museum. You have a nasty tendency of wanting to ruin things that you’ve been purposefully warned away from. It’s sort of a thing of yours, a bad habit you haven’t put too much effort into breaking. The more impermissible something is, the more likely you are to try, like a cat knocking a glass of water off a table. 

Corruptible isn’t the exact right word, but it’s what comes to mind. You want to mess him up a little. Put your grubby rockstar hands on him and leave smears behind so his fangirls see his tainted reputation. You don’t, of course. It’s just a passing thought that you wouldn’t risk actually jeopardizing his career for. 

It would just be nice to see him live a little more freely. 

The temptation clears with the last of your noodles disappearing into your mouth. There are things that are off limits for both of you. Those are just the sacrifices you’ve made for your dreams. That’s all there is to it. 

It’s so good you sigh at the loss of it, mourning your empty bowl. Gojo’s almost done himself. The minute he finished his noodles, he lets out a breath to mirror yours, then laughs once he catches himself. 

“Come on,” you say. “Let’s get you home.”

You think that’s the end of it. There’s no reason to go any further. You met an idol and he obliterated your previously held prejudices. You’ll never meet again. 

That’s not quite how it works out. 

When your manager offers you another chance to see Gojo, it’s nonchalant. “Remember that idol you were partnered with on that variety show? I know you don’t like those types, but you seemed to tolerate him well enough. There’s another-“

A yes flies out of your mouth so quickly it’s embarrassing. 

Your manager pauses. His eyes narrow. “Didn’t expect you to be so eager, but okay.” 

Your face burns with embarrassment. This isn’t like you at all. Even with your exes, you had been cool and level headed. Always the prize, never the one to give chase. 

He’s interesting, you try to rationalize it to yourself. You like interesting. Life was mind numbing without a kick, and he was the latest thrill. It didn’t mean anything more. 

It’s another variety show. Apparently the two of you had been so popular as a pair that they wanted more. 

Gojo’s in the makeup chair when you arrive. The artist is scolding him for blinking while she applies his mascara. He’s whining about his dry eyes. 

“Don’t be a baby,” you say, dropping into the chair next to him. 

“But that’s what I’m best at!”

“You’re so weird,” you laugh. 

The makeup artist groans. “Please don’t encourage him.” 

Only Gojo would take that as encouragement. He rolls his eyes and receives a light swat across the shoulder for his troubles. You play around on your phone while you wait for her to be free, but soon grow bored. Instead, you watch her swipe powder across Gojo’s face and dab cream onto the apples of his cheeks. 

“Stop staring,” he says. 

“How do you know I’m staring? Your eyes are closed.”

“I can feel it.”

“Well, you’re wrong.” 

“You’re such a bad liar,” he says, and you know he’s just messing around at this point because you’re an incredible liar. It’s your best quality. 

Falling into banter with Gojo is as easy as breathing. It’s no trouble at all to replicate it on the show. From the shadow, your manager gives you a double thumbs up. Dork. 

Sometimes it’s hard to remember that you’re doing this to drum up popularity for your tour. You’re not the only one having trouble. Gojo pulls you aside after filming wraps up to give you his personal number on the phone he’s not supposed to have. 

At night, you get an alert that you’ve received something from Gojo. It’s not a message. It’s a notification that you can save three tickets to your digital wallet. 

A speech bubble pops up. 

Come to my concert, he says. I got you VIP seats. 

Gojo’s impressed you, but you still don’t know about the rest of his band. You’re not sure you want to watch pretty men lip sync and grind on the stage for two hours, but when you tell Shoko, she offers to bring Utahime. That’s conveniently three, so you might as well. 

VIP seats don’t include backstage, so you’re surprised when security comes to retrieve you. There’s no backstage pass for this concert, actually, confusing you all the more. 

Shoko flaps her hand dismissively at you, encouraging you on. By her side, Utahime is trying to feed her snacks. Satisfied that they’re comfortable, you follow the guard to Gojo’s dressing room. He leaves you there without a word. 

After five minutes of waiting for something to happen, you knock. Instantly, Gojo’s voice invites you in. 

He’s sitting in front of the dresser, fiddling with his earrings. You’ve noticed seven piercings in total - three on his right lobe, two on his left, and one conch on either side. Before you knew him, you would’ve been surprised an idol would be allowed to get so many. Now you know he bends the rules whenever he’s able. 

“Pass me that?” You hand him the disinfectant. “Thanks. I didn’t think you were coming.” 

“Then why’d you send me tickets?”

“Thought my roguish good looks and natural charm would win you over,” he says with a smile that says he’s only half joking. 

“You’re insufferable,” you say as you bat his hands away from his ear. “Let me do that.” 

His hair is soft as cygnet down as you brush it behind his ear. There’s something innocent about his expression like this, watching him from above. His eyes are closed, breaths soft and even as he waits for you. 

The silver pools in your hand as you thread it through his ear, a waterfall released when it hooks on. He wears a lot of silver, you’ve noticed. His stylists favor colors that should wash him out but only make him look more angelic. Pale blue silk trims his form, encrusted with embellishments to make him look prince-like. There are sparkles in the inner corner of his eye, soft blush on his cheekbones to make him look sweet. 

He’s anything but when his eyelids flutter open and he notices you watching. A smile almost cruel tugs at his lips. His hand reaches for you as if- 

There’s a knock on his door for the last curtain call. 

“That’s me.” He stands up, brushing his lap off without a trace of anything other than professionalism. He’ll leave you wondering what he was going to do. It’s terrible how good he is at this, though you suppose it’s his job to leave people wanting more. “Keep an eye out for me on stage, will you?”

It’s hard not to. Your eyes are polarized to him. Even when something else catches your attention, like fireworks or confetti, he pulls it back. Greedy, that one. 

You’re not the only one. The crowd lives for him. There’s something electric about him on stage. He naturally draws attention with that height and attitude and face, but what happens when he’s performing is inexplicable. You’d call it a religious experience if you believed in a god. 

Fate has never factored into your life, but now you’re starting to consider worship. Gojo performs like he was born to be an idol. 

Keep an eye out for me, he says, as if you’d have any trouble. You’ll dream about him tonight. The way his mouth fits so sensuously over the words of a love song snags your thoughts like a fishhook. Sick desires run through your blood, each more depraved than the last. 

You want to watch him shed his beautiful silk skin for you, become nothing more than man again. You must retract your prior confession. There’s no longing for the altar in you, only a love of sacrilege. 

Gojo asks for coffee easily, as if you’re two normal people and not celebrities with a lot to lose if you were caught together. You can’t let him outdo you, so you agree. These are the reasons why your manager curses your recklessness. Shoko calls it bravery, when she’s feeling sweet on you. 

The second message comes a second later. 

Gojo Satoru 11:25 I only said it to see if you’d agree Here’s my address lol can’t believe you said yes  Attachment 

You think he gives his address out too freely for a man worth 30 million. The feeling only intensifies as you get out of your car and thank your driver. His gates are pearly instead of the standard matte black, a stark declaration of wealth. He’s practically asking for an incident to happen. 

Security buzzes you in. Someone in a white dress - an honest to god maid - leads you to a mini kitchen where Gojo’s waiting. His hair is wet and dripping down his back where his powder blue shirt is darkened to a navy. You thought you had gotten used to overblown displays of money after your first three years in the music industry. Clearly, you were mistaken. 

He looks up as you enter, reading a trashy tabloid as he stirs whipped cream into a tall glass of something that looks more like a sugary heart attack than coffee. 

You’ve never seen his bare face, you realize. Even that moment when you had walked in on him and the makeup artist, he had been nearly done. He looks practically the same without makeup. People with genetic good looks like him only need to enhance their appearance the tiniest amount. 

What really strikes you is how earnest he looks, soft and open-hearted, though that might be because you’ve caught him in his home. This is what you wanted - him without his skin on, naked and without pretense. He’s wearing cotton pajamas and white slippers. 

“I thought you’d come later,” he says. “Sorry I got started without you. I was feeling something sweet.” 

“I’m early, though?”

“I’m always late,” he says with a one shouldered shrug. “Thought you might be too. Guess you’re not my perfect girl after all, huh?” 

You shove his arm off the armrest of his chair to perch on it, ignoring the perfectly good chair across from him. This is better, anyway, easier to talk to him. “Don’t be absurd. I’m everyone’s dream girl.” 

Gojo chuckles. “I like confident women.” 

There’s been a question on your mind for a while. You knew his group was popular, but all this? Maybe you should’ve become an idol after all. 

“Where’s the rest of your band? I thought idols shared rooms.” 

“Some do,” he says. “Not so much when you make it big. But this is my family home, so none of that applies.” 

Gojo Satoru of the Gojo conglomerate. How had you forgotten? It shouldn’t be so easy to ignore something like that. 

Gojo shifts the conversation easily, but you notice. So he doesn’t like the connection, then. “How was the concert?”

“Don’t fish for compliments,” you say, stealing a sip of his drink before it reaches his mouth. It’s too sweet for anyone’s standards. You spit it back into the cup. He takes it from you, eyes it consideringly, and takes a sip anyways. 

Your mouth drops. “You’re so gross.” 

“Only for you, baby,” he moans, humor like a teenage boy. “Call me names again.”

You roll your eyes at him. 

“It’s fine, it’s just saliva. Now tell me the truth. You couldn’t take your eyes off me, could you?” 

They’d probably sooner pop out of your head and roll away than leave the sight of him, but you can’t tell him that after all you’ve said about idols. Instead, you push off your seat to go rummage through his cabinets. He has a fully stocked coffee cart in this room and the very latest espresso machine, all to choose his diabetic monstrosity instead. 

“You don’t need to respond,” he says cheerfully. “Your silence tells me everything I need to know.” 

“Do you think you know me that well?” You shoot back. His fridge is so big you think you could fit into it. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’ve registered that he’s moved from his seat as well, and now stands just behind you. 

“Of course I know you,” he says. “I understood you the moment we met.” 

“You’re very confident,” you note. 

You have a weakness for confident men. 

“So you liked my concert. Can I come to yours?” 

You imagine Gojo in a mosh pit for a second. It sends you into a laughing fit while he stands there, bemused. You can’t shake the incongruous picture of him, with his face like a carefully crafted porcelain doll, getting rowdy and wild with your fans. Ridiculous. Never in a million years.

“We don’t have VIP seats,” you warn him. 

“So?” 

“So it can get dangerous.” 

“Aw, you do care about me.” 

“I care about the fat lawsuit your company’s going to send me when their moneymaker breaks his leg at my concert. It’s not happening.” 

“You scared?” 

“No, but maybe you should be.”

“Come on,” he says. When had he gotten so close? It’s distracting. “I know you’ll take care of me.” 

Gojo had invited you to his concert. It’s only right to return the favor. An idea starts forming in your head, though you’re not sure it’s a good one. You tell him anyway.

Usually when soundcheck is over, you have a little bit of downtime to relax backstage. You’re expecting someone tonight, however. 

A rough knock on the door announces Satoru Gojo, spoken in your security guard’s rough voice. Well, he really introduces him as pretty boy idol, but you can guess who it is. 

He looks discomfited, a rare occurrence, as he closes the door behind him. 

“What’s with you?” 

“You’ve got groupies,” he says, looking rattled. 

You fight a smile. 

“Don’t laugh,” he pouts. “They’re insane. One of them tried to chase me here.” 

You can’t help yourself. A giggle bursts out of you. When he tries to leave, you pin his hand to the handle and coo reassurances at him so he won’t. 

When you head out the door, he surprises you by grabbing your hand. It’s as nonchalant as anything he does, so you rise to the challenge he sets by refusing to react to it. You only separate once you reach the stairs; him to the spot you’ve made for him behind the barricade, you to the stage. 

This is one of your favorite venues, moody and atmospheric. The lights are dimmed to your preferred setting, but your eyes adjust quickly. Your crowd is restless tonight, shifting on their feet as whispers follow raucous laughter through the crowd. Noise on noise, the way you like it. 

The wood of the floor is a little sticky beneath your boots as you walk. That’s history gumming the soles of your shoes, generations of artists before you. You’re starting to feel it now, the electric thrum of pure joy in your blood. 

Shoko is strumming light tunes on her guitar to warm up, her eyes closed. You hope she doesn’t take it too hard that Utahime couldn’t make it tonight, though you know if she’s upset, she’ll channel into her music. 

The crowd settles as the hour draws closer. Shoko’s fingers are liquid now, running through chords effortlessly. You wrap the cord of the microphone around your hands, letting the tension build mindlessly. A stage is like home to you. The crowd plays in the palm of your hand, energy ebbing and flowing as you will it. 

It starts with a guitar solo from Shoko. By then, the crowd is already burning with excitement. The first burst of sound from the speakers has them roaring, cheering even though there’s no lyrics to it. The smallest smile touches her lips as she plays to the crowd, showing off exactly why she’s lead guitar for the greatest band in the world right now. 

You step in on her heels, your voice rising over the music. Back before you knew how this felt, you almost quit singing, annoyed by the sound you were forced into. This is more your tempo. The almost guttural curl to the ends of your words, the rasp of your hoarse voice - this is beautiful to you. 

The crowd is yours. Anything that goes on is within your jurisdiction, higher than any judge or god. You notice everything in your realm. 

People are starting to move now, their bodies falling victim to the music. Their mouthes form the vowels and consonants of the lyrics as their bodies shudder and jerk, chained to the rhythm. Bodies ricochet off each other, love taps of respect for your aggressive voice, soaring above it all. 

In the corner, there’s a violent eye of a storm. You think it’s a particularly enthusiastic dancer - perhaps a circle is about to form - before you realize what’s actually going on. 

A fight is breaking out. You catch a glimpse of snow white hair, realize it’s near the barricade, and your stomach drops. 

It’s Gojo and another man, ignoring the security guard trying to separate them. You try to stay professional and play through it, but then you see red. 

Gojo’s hand flies to his face, his nose dripping with crimson. He doesn’t look any more injured than that, but you’re angry enough to step in now. Shoko stops as soon as you hold your hand out, the music veering into a screeching crash. 

“You, in the black tee!” You realize you should’ve been more specific when what looks like the entire crowd looks down at their equally black shirts. “No, the one that just punched Gojo Satoru. Yeah, you, asshole! No fighting at my gigs! Especially not my guests!” 

He had the audacity to yell back. “I was just showing him a warm welcome!” 

You climb off the stage. Gojo didn’t show any fear while he got hit, but there’s concern in his eyes now as you drop to the ground by him. 

“Wait,” he says, “wait, wait. I don’t think you should-“ 

“Shut the fuck up,” you snap, pushing him behind you until his back hits the stage. “Let me handle this.” 

You get in the man’s face. His eyes are bloodshot - drunk, probably. “Who do you think you are, starting shit at my shows?”

“You’ve sold out,” he slurs. Definitely drunk. “He doesn’t belong here.” 

“You don’t get to tell me who can or can’t come to my goddamn show,” you snarl, vicious and low. “Get out.” 

“You can’t-“

“Get out before I make them drag you out.” 

When he doesn’t move, you motion security over. “Does anyone else have any complaints?” 

The crowd is eerily silent for something that was moving like a beast with one mouth before, singing in unison. You clamber back on stage, turning around to grab Gojo’s hand. 

“What?” He says. 

“Up. Now.” Your tone brooks no argument. You haul him up with you. He stands awkwardly as you drag him towards your mic stand, your arm slung around his shoulder. There’s still blood on his face. 

“Gojo Satoru is a very dear friend of mine,” you announce into the mic. You see the confused looks in the crowd. Even Shoko seems wary. This wasn’t on the schedule. “If you're a real rock fan, you'd know that music is more than genre. I get it! I didn’t think idols were anything more than corporate shills either-“ 

“Harsh,” he whispers under his breath, unable to control himself even now. 

“But he proved me wrong. He’s a real performer, just like I am, and I expect the same respect for him that you give to me.”

This is your crowd. They listen. Someone whistles. 

You sit Gojo down, right by your feet. He gives you a bemused smile as the concert starts again, you moving around him like one of your props. He spends most of the concert lounging back, watching you through half lidded eyes. 

It might’ve been enough excitement for one night, but you’ve always been the type to push your boundaries. When the idea springs into your head, you act on impulse, not giving yourself too much time to think about it as you pull Gojo to his feet. 

You’re really manhandling him tonight, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s only a little startled as you pull the mic away from your face to get into his space. 

You misjudged the distance. Your forehead knocks into his, just enough to sting, but not really hurt. “Do you want to try something?” Your voice is a whisper to not get picked up by the mic. 

“Give it to me,” he says, and his smile is a bloody thing. 

When you angle the mic towards him, you’re careful about not hitting him this time. 

His voice works surprisingly well for rock. You weren’t sure he could pull off such a sound change, but he surprises you every time, matching you best for beat. 

When he pulls back, your hand snakes into his hair and yanks him towards you and the mic again. He sings wholly at your command, being jerked around by your desires. It’s an inferno on stage, sweat pouring down both your faces. Behind you, the crowd is screaming so loudly it nearly deafens you. 

Not a bad encore, you think as you towel off in your dressing room. Shoko left for a cool down with a bottle of ice water right before you, her post concert ritual, but the look she shot you says that you need to talk. You’ll deal with the consequences later. 

For now, it’s enough to have Gojo shaking with leftover adrenaline against you as you sit him down in your chair. You press a bottle of ice against his face, watching him shiver. He’s still pretty with all the blood. Prettier, somehow, like some teenage wet dream of a vampire from a young adult novel. 

You want to lick the sweat out of the hollow of his collar bones. Instead, you talk to him to rid yourself of your insane thoughts. It’s always a little crazy in your head after a good stage. 

“Well?” You demand. “How was it?” 

He tilts his head, considering. It makes you nervous. Now that you know how good of a performer he is, it almost feels like a test to receive his judgment. 

“I think I’m in love with you,” he says, slowly. 

“That good, huh?” You smile, trying to ignore the aching pressure behind your ribcage. You shouldn’t care so much what he thinks. Why does it matter? 

“Yeah,” he says. “When are you free? I gotta plan our date.”

“Huh?” 

“That was so sexy,” he says. “I was thinking about taking it slow, but I’m not going to last if I wait. I want to date you. I want to marry you.” 

He’s starting to worry you. “Did you have a heat stroke or something? That’s really fast. Really, really fast, Gojo.” 

“I’ve never been more clearheaded in my life,” he says. You only believe him when the medic clears him of any injuries, even the nose. 

“We can talk about marriage later,” you say. “Why don’t you tell me about the date for now?”

Two weeks later, you’re Gojo’s plus one to his first movie premiere. It’s his debut as an actor, and it couldn’t be a better one. He escaped most of the negative pushback that usually comes with transitioning between those two industries, being naturally good at everything. Still, he had worked hard, and you’re proud of him. 

It feels like you’re the only one, because the man himself doesn’t even care about his accomplishment. He’s too busy being delighted about hiding in plain sight. The cameras flash at you as you walk across the red carpet, arm in arm with Gojo. Your stylist had coordinated with his. It could almost pass for a couple’s outfits.  

“You know,” he says conspiratorially. “When you defended me at the concert, I got hard.” 

“I didn’t need to know that.” 

“It was really hot.” 

“You know there are people who can read lips, right?”

“I wish they would figure out what I’m saying.”

“Alright,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Let’s get inside.” 

Dating Gojo is nothing like what you’d expected and everything like you’d expected. He keeps surprising you, doing wild things to get your attention that you never thought an idol would be willing to get their hands dirty with. He might be even more of a daredevil than you are, constantly pushing the boundaries of what you both can get away with before you’re found out. 

In a way, it’s almost like you’re asking for it. You’re both straining at the bit to claim each other. It doesn’t come as a surprise when it does happen, then. 

“Huh,” Gojo says over ramen. “We got papped.” 

Utahime, understandably, freaks. “What? That’s not funny.”

“Oh yeah?” You say. “Are the pictures good at least?”

“You know we always look good. Could’ve gotten a better angle, but whatever.” 

Utahime’s working herself into a minor tizzy in the corner. “Guys, I need you to be more serious about this. This is bad! This is so bad!”

Shoko looks up from her phone and chips on the couch, lying flat on her stomach. “Hate to agree, but she’s right. What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” you shrug. “What’s the point? There’s nothing we can do about it. They have the evidence.” 

It had been a good run. Two blissful months of peace and quiet. Sneaking around had been fun, giving you that thrill you loved every time someone failed to recognize you and Gojo behind your stupid sunglasses. Still, it was bound to fail at some point. You’re honestly surprised it lasted for as long as it had. You can’t be mad. Two months is more than you could’ve asked for. 

“Well,” Gojo says. “Wee-llll.” 

“Spit it out,” Utahime gripes at him. 

You take another bite of ramen, content to let them argue without you. 

“There is something we could do,” Gojo hedges. 

“You’re so annoying,” Shoko says. 

“No one thinks you’re funny,” Utahime chimes in. 

“Hey! She thinks I’m funny!” Gojo frowns. “Tell them you think I’m funny.” 

“Sorry, babe. I never lie to my girls.” 

“Whatever,” Gojo sighs. “Guess you don’t want to hear my genius idea then.” 

“Don’t be a brat,” you tease, knuckling his head. He loves it when you roughhouse with him. 

“What if…” The hesitation is real this time. You can tell the difference between when he’s faking it or not. He’s a good showman, but you know him. You place an encouraging hand on his knee. 

“What if we went public first?” He says it all in one breath. 

You take a moment, turning the idea over in your head. It would wrest back control of the narrative to your team. Even if you might get backlash, it wouldn’t be at someone else’s hands, beholden to their mercy. You like it. 

“Sure,” you say. 

Gojo gapes at you. ‘That easy?’ His thoughts are written all over his face. 

“Why not?” You offer him one of your easy smiles. “I’ve always wanted to say you were mine, anyway.”

[borninwinter81]

Library tour - Pratchett and Gaiman focused with some honourable mentions

Of course I've constantly had full bookshelves since I was a child, but I'd always wanted a room I could properly call a library. The house my husband and I now live in has 3 bedrooms, so as we're child free we've each taken one of the spare rooms to do with as we wish.

The majority of the furniture you see is thrifted (aside from the bookcases) and it was self decorated with a lot of cut corners-for example I decided instead of proper flooring it would be cheaper just to pull up the carpet and varnish the actual boards.

I spend more time in here than I do in our living room 😁

Gaiman stuff. Sandman alongside some Alan Moore, Preacher, Hellblazer, my signed copy of The Crow and one volume of Sin City. Two copies each of Ocean (one illustrated), and American Gods (original and authors preferred text). And of course one of my copies of Good Omens. Plus you can see the novelisation of Pan's Labyrinth sitting next to Neverwhere. Del Toro is another favourite fantasist of mine.

Pratchett stuff. Complete Discworld of course, and I'm slowly increasing my non Discworld Pratchett collection, my second copy of GO, the Paul Kidby illustrated edition (makes sense to have one living with the Gaiman books and the other with Pratchett). Soul Music and Hogfather are both signed, I met Pterry when I was 14 on the Hogfather signing tour.

The crocheted toy was actually from a pattern for a mimic I made (pattern by Complicated Knots on YouTube), but it's luggage-y enough that I put it with the Discworld books, Rob Wilkins' biography of Pterry, and a Librarian to look after everything, make sure the books don't get rowdy and take care of the L-space. I've had him since I was 18.

Specifically Good Omens stuff: a pair of felt plushies a friend made for me after S1 was released (@diedarlingsuk on Instagram), a pair of drawings I bought from a very talented 15 year old artist at a tiny comic con also after S1, (I'd credit her but I've no idea of her name or if she has an online presence), the script book, the TV companion, and an art book by the wonderful @mistysblueboxstuff, who I'm sure most of the fandom know and love. This contains all her GO art from S1 and S2.

Honourable mention stuff - I put above that I love Del Toro, so I've got to share the Angel of Death from Hellboy 2 as its one of my favourite things in this room. And its an angel, so that's kinda linked.

Made for me by another friend from clay on a doll's body and the wings on wire frames (@sids_workshop on Instagram).

Finally the Complete William Blake illuminated works, a guidebook to a Blake exhibition I went to, and Gustav Dore illustrated copies of Dante, Milton, Coleridge, Tennyson and Poe. I am a huge poetry nerd, and I think many GO fans would find a lot to interest them in some of these, particularly Blake and Milton.

I could go on, there's tons of other stuff I'd like to include but this post is fairly massive already and I wanted to try and stick to my theme.

[alicealmost]

I wasn't planning to do that, at least not now, but I'm an anxious person, so here we go:

For most time of my life, I kept things to myself, I still do that most of time, including the things I like to see or do. I always loved to draw, and when I like an anime, a tv show, a game, I become passionate about it, just like I'm now with tadc and mainly bunnydoll... but as always, I keep it to myself. So, finding a place where I can show the things I like is something very precious to me.

As if it wasn't good enough, I found so many cool people, people that love many of the things I love too. Talented people, artists, writers...

And the top of the cherry is that some of those people are really supportive to me and my silly little doodles :3 you guys don't know how happy I get whenever you, such talented people, praise something I did. I couldn't be more thankful.

And for this, I dedicate this doodle of Jaiden with her dearest siblings, representing each of my precious friends around here.

@fizzyellouw (Abby) @ese1anime (Jinx), @livi-in-digital-circus (Ellie, Ethan and Owyin), @raggstosketches (Buster and Mopsy), @kodaaaaaaaaaaaaa (Patch, Sugar and Duffy), @fraudefiscal (Donnie and Richard) @candy-heart-brew (Seymour, Nibs, Frankie, Periwinkle and Daisy) and @beanandberry (Since there isn't a bunnydoll kid from you, Bean, I designed this purple haired bunny next Jaiden, her name is Berry)

Thank you very much. I wish a blessed life to all you :3

[mrs-snape5984]

“I was held in chains but now I’m free…”

“Hey, little train! Wait for me! I once was blind but now I see. Have you left a seat for me? Is that such a stretch of the imagination?” (“O Children” by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds)

I feel obligated to set up a trigger warning on this post, since I’m mentioning thoughts of suicidal ideation in my text. If you’re feeling uncomfortable with this topic, please feel free to ignore the following four paragraphs and skip right to my praise for the incredibly talented artist of this comic strip.

As already mentioned in some of my latest posts, I’ve commissioned some of my favourite artists here on tumblr for a special project of mine: My afterlife project.

I’m suffering from multiple autoimmune disorders, which probably have paved the way for this bitch of a disease, ME/CFS (myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome), two years ago. Sure, my life already wasn’t the easiest before, but since then, it came to a standstill. More and more, I lost my abilities, my social life, my place in the society…and surely even my participation in my own family. My days are mostly spent in bed all day and night, surrounded only by darkness and solitude.

Patients with severe ME/CFS might die earlier than expected, due to multiple organ failure and - yes, I have to admit, that this reason is, indeed, undeniably relatable (and alluring) to me - suicide. With each passing day, that I’m doomed to “live” with these confines of my personal hell… imprisoned within myself without any chance to escape… death appears to be a welcoming friend, who’s only awaiting to pull me into a tight embrace. For me, it’s like it’s written in the following poem (“Joy in Death”) of Emily Dickinson…it will be good news and maybe even a relief…not just for me.

I know, I can’t leave, yet… and that I have to stay as long as endurable - at least for my children’s sake - but… yeah, BUT… but, damn, I’m tired. My personal limits are set… my lines are drawn… my responsibilities are cleared and both of my closest friends are informed about my pathetic little wishes (please, play that goddamn song for me!). I’m prepared. But for now, I have to stay…. to fight a little longer… to be a mom, even though my kids only see me for a few minutes each day… a mere shadow of the mother, they used to know. It’s a fucking shame!

For this particular part of my afterlife project, I’ve commissioned my sweet friend @sleepybradipo, who will always be my first choice to draw my vision of the young Severus in his own uniquely tender art style, which I’m so weak for.

In my imagination, I will be able to choose, how my eternal life will look like. Finally, I’ll be with Severus! We’ll meet at the age of 11 years and eventually spend the rest of our lives side by side...growing old together. Severus and Jukes will finally get the life, they’ve always deserved to have. I’ve started to show sections of this existence by Severus’ side in some of my other posts, which belong to this project. It may sound strange and pathetic (obviously), but this is all, that I'm wishing for. I want to come home to him.

For this artwork, I asked @sleepybradipo to make the process of “renewing” visible…almost like some kind of resurrection! Jules is stripping off her old, exhausted self, only to be 11 years old again…happily running towards the 11 years old Severus, who’s waiting for her.

Ivano, at first, I felt guilty for my request for this commission. I’m constantly afraid of becoming a burden to others with my ridiculously morbid thoughts and ideas. But you, my dear friend, made me feel seen with your kindness and compassion. Your understanding of my fantasy and the way, you’ve realised it in this mesmerising piece of art, are absolutely breathtaking! I don’t know, how I could possibly show enough gratitude to express, what your art is doing to my black little heart. It’s like a bandage…a soothing balm… a comforting embrace. Thank you for everything, Ivano.

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

PS: I have to apologise for my repetive use of terms in my writing this time. The lack of coherence might be caused by my current “crashing” condition and a weird cocktail of different medications. I’ll try better next time, but it was important for me, to show this heart-wrenching composition of art as soon as possible. Your work needs to be seen, Ivano!

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

”If I could draw I’d draw fanarts!”

“If I could draw I’d draw my OCs”

“If I could paint I’d paint all the ideas in my head and become rich!”

If I could draw and paint I would completely erase this portrait of J.K Rowling in a book from my childhood, and draw a picture of Imane Khelif there instead.

This is my copy and it’s in Swedish, btw.

The original title of this book is Good Night Stories For Rebel Girls 2. It’s the second book out of two. This is the first one.

These two books were my childhood. Do you have any idea how empowering it is for a young girl like me, feeling alone in a world that seems to become crueller by the day, a girl who feels unheard by adults, to read these kind of books? I have plenty other books like these, too! These were my two favourites.

Two books filled with strong, powerful and cool women who have changed the world in one way or another! Reading these books inspired me so, so much as a little girl. I couldn’t get enough of these two-page stories about women who were brave and stood up for what was right. Women from so many different countries and backgrounds. It was beautiful. These books were how I found out about most of my biggest idols today: Malala Yousafzai, Greta Thunberg, Anne Frank, Emma Watson etc.

As I said, these books are my childhood. Another series of books that played a huge part of my childhood are the Harry Potter books.

As a little kid, I had no idea about who Joanne truly was. All I knew was that she was an author, and I dreamed about becoming an author one day. And Joanne had written one of my favourite series of all time. Of course I looked up to her! I especially remember looking at the drawing of her in Good Night Stories For Rebel Girls 2, admiring it very much.

I have grown up. I still love Harry Potter, the series played a massive role in my childhood and it’s been there to comfort me in my hardest times. But I do not support the author, now that I’ve heard about and read the tweets she has made about trans women. It’s disgusting, what she’s said about trans women in the past, what she still says, and what she’s tweeted about Imane Khelif recently… I’ve knows for years now what she’s all about.

It hurts, you know. As a member of the LGBTQIA+ community, it hurts to know that the series I love so dearly, the series that always makes me feel better, is written by a person who has no respect whatsoever towards half of my friend group and other trans people. None. She is a horrible human being, and it hurts to know that.

Knowing that her face, her name and her story is written in yet another book in my bookshelf, that her presence is constant in my room, makes me sick to my stomach and has done so for a long time now. Ever since I remembered a while back that she’s in this book, this wonderful book about women who have made the world a better place and continue fighting daily, women I look up to so much… I’ve had this sick feeling in my stomach, because she does not belong in this book. She isn’t a feminist. She excludes trans women from womanhood and accuses cis women of being trans or intersex based on their strength and talent in sports. Based on a supposed high level of testosterone? Joanne is cruel, and she’s rude, and she is not a person kids should be taught to look up to. Not after all she’s done.

Earlier today, I was thinking about this again. And as so many times before, I wished that I myself was a talented artist. This is something I’ve thought about before, but for different reasons. I’ve always wished I could draw portraits and pretty paintings. Fanarts for my favourite ships that I can only picture in my head but not transfer to paper. I’ve always loved drawing, but I’ve never been too good at it. Now I desperately wish that I was.

Because if I was a talented artist, I would grab my pens and paint and brushes, and I would cover up the portrait of J. K Rowling in my book. I would make a whole new portrait in its place, a portrait of another woman I look up to, a strong and beautiful and brave woman. A women called Imane Khelif.

And I’d get rid of the page full of facts and stories about Rowling, I’d tear it apart and throw it away and replace it with the story of Imane Khelif, the one woman Rowling cannot tolerate because of her talent for boxing. I can write. I can’t draw, but I can write. I so wish I could do both right now, because if I truly could trust myself with fully remaking two book pages, I would do it without hesitation.

Imane Khelif’s story deserves to be told. J.K Rowling’s story deserves to be told with seriousness, and grief because of what she has become. This woman could have been a successful author and a beloved feminist, and she could have left it at that. Sadly, she chose a path of hatred and cyber bullying. She chose this journey for herself, and I am sorry for everyone who got their childhood ruined because of it. Heck, I’m sorry for her even, but I still know in my heart that she has no excuses for what she has done. I despise her.

Kids need to be warned about TERFs, not trans women.

Collage made by @thingsmk1120sayz (I will delete it immediately if you ask me to, love <3)

I stand by Imane Khelif. I stand by the girls who grew up to be strong and wonderful women, the women who made their childhood dreams reality and won medals in the Olympics, the women who became successful artists, the women who reached their goals and ended up writing bestseller books loved by generations.

I stand by them, and I love them. But I feel nothing but hatred and pity towards J. K Rowling. Fuck her twisted beliefs. Much love to Imane Khelif!

Edit: I would like to clarify, Good Night Stories For Rebel Girls 2 was released 2017. I have no idea when Joanne started spreading her transphobic views on social media. Feel free to educate me on reblogs and comments! Anyways, I don’t think that the authors of this book, Elena Favilli and Francesca Cavallo, meant to cause any harm by putting Rowling in their book. Either this was before Rowling started tweeting transphobic things, or the authors didn’t know about her being a TERF (I doubt the latter). So please don’t send any hate to these wonderful authors! If you want to send them questions regarding their books, I’m pretty sure you’re free to do so! xx

[welcomehomediscordserver]

(joking) CW: AGGRESSIVE SUPPORT AND LOVE FOR CLOWN FROM THE MOD TEAM AND MEMBERS OVER AT OUR DISCORD SERVER !!

I have found joy in your little show that I rarely find in things. The overwhelming love and care I have not just for these specific characters but for your art and talent as a whole is astounding. I want you to know that your community, the good parts of it, support you in any endeavor you choose to take. Although this project may have blasted your popularity you are 3-dimensional, you are much more than the creator of welcome home. You are a multi-medial, skilled, talented, and strong artistic being. Throughout all of this I have had nothing but the utmost respect for you. I will continue to no matter what. Just know we over at The Welcome Home discord server have been following your art closely and appreciating every detail! Do what is best for you clown, and continue to do so! -Reggie

It's been a while since something has grabbed me like this... Welcome Home is one of the most precious things I have ever seen, the creation has and will it always have a place in my heart. Thank You creator for sharing this piece of you heart with us. But your safety is more important, I hope that you'll be safe. -Jax

"dear clown, from the heart of one fan to many others, i find so much comfort in your project that i hope that even when things just like now are awful, you know that there's people simultaneously supporting you in every step of the way! We can wait however long you believe is necessary, you deserve to feel respected with your own passion project! And with that to a close, i wish you well! Thank you for giving us a grand welcome home!" -gremints

dear clown, you don't know me. i don't know you either. but everything you've been working on? it's changed my life. and i know that sounds cliche and silly, but it's true. you've inspired me to keep working on my own passion projects, to keep going. because of you, i have found a little community to call home. because of you, i have rekindled my love of silliness and color and creativity. i cannot thank you enough. without you, i would not have found the friends i have now. whatever you do, i want you to know that we're here to support it. and i hope that wherever you go, you also find home. - moth

Hi you dont know me but im Bug, one of the mods^^, I just want to start my message with this, Before I found welcome home, everything for me was going downhill, I had lost so much that was important to me in less than 2 weeks, I couldn't get out of bed and I wasn't doing my favorite things anymore. I couldn't even smile, My eyes were tired and heavy from crying. But thanks to you, Clown. Wonderful you..and your beautiful vibrant creation. With characters I saw and adored right away. I've smiled, danced, sang my favorite songs again, met new and amazing friends & began to draw again. I felt happiness faster than I thought I would again. A peace from your life helped heal some of mine and I'm grateful. Your creations bring me and so many others joy, But even then it as not as important as you. Yes It brings many smiles to people and i hope that doesn't sound to overwhelming.. But although we can't fix the issue people have caused you, we can't apologize for those who don't respect the boundaries you've set and we can't take back what others have done we want you to know that no matter what, the good of the community will always Have what's best for you in mind, in our server we make sure all rules are followed and you're privacy and mental health is respected. Take as much time as you need to take it all in, relax, do what's best for clown. 💚 take care of yourself before aything else. We thank you for all you've done already. -Boogerbug

EVERYTHING BELOW WAS SUBMITTED BY MEMBERS !!

Hi Clown! Just another rando passing through! While I have known about your artwork for a few years now, I never dove into it until Welcome Home became popular, and I genuinely love the vision you have. Your other artwork is also phenominal and genuinely inspires me, and it always has, even before I discovered the Welcome Home website. Your character designs are impeccable, the way you portray the muppets is genuinely awesome and brings back a lot of good memories, as I grew up watching puppet shows. Explains one reason I enjoy your work doesn't it?Despite making godly artwork, people forget that you are a human like the rest of us. Most people who become famous or popular because of something they have done experience this and it is unfortunate, but there are some of us that know you have a life and are already struggling. Take the time you need to rejuvinate yourself and try not to let these people get to you, as hard as it is to do, as even I still struggle with this daily. These are your creations, and you deserve to have control over what happens with them, and the disrespect this slowly growing fanbase has for your requests is terrible. Hoping that things eventually improve on your end, especially since you already aren't in a safe environment, something I also understand. I've already planned on throwing some bucks at you through Ko-Fi once I open my new bank account, and even if I cant, I still want to help prove that you are worthy and deserve better than this. You are incredibly talented and I hope to see Welcome Home and all of your other works of art flourish over time! - Sunnie/Mizo

Now onto the big reveal....

Our server members as well as a few mods all banded to together to create a collage showing our appreciation and support for Clown during these rough times. I hope this can serve as a reminder that despite the shitty people out there, there is a large community who still very much respects and enjoys every aspect of Clowns artwork.

An art collage put together by the moderators with art submitted by members.

Below are more signages as well as the usernames of everyone who participated:

Micah

Maximus

Beans

Wynn

Avery

Global

Vinnzhe

- and lastly, the rest of the welcome home discord server 🩷

@partycoffin

[raygirlramblings]

Happy Easter everyone! It’s the perfect time of year to draw cute art of a character I don’t nearly draw enough but who makes me happy.

Fabergé, despite his own wishes, is a very Easter themed fellow. While he doesn’t like chocolate or being compared to an Easter bunny his artistic skills do make him a talented egg decorator. It’s a skill he finds very therapeutic, and it means he can leave them around as gifts to brings others joy without direct interaction (something he struggles with thanks to his crippling shyness).

The rare exceptions to this are Rabbiteen, with whom he can happily share his love of egg decoration, and of course his best friend Wunderlee. Wunder is mute so expresses joy in unique ways, many of which catch Fabergé off guard XD.

Easter CandyCorn is a thing that exists and I want it 😭

[99tech99]

i only found tumblr about a year ago

i was absolutely devastated in the wake of plan 99. tech was my favorite. tech still is my favorite. i was dejected for longer than i probably should have been. i was googling fan theories about what happened to tech and seeing if people thought he was really dead

in my searching, found a piece of bad batch fan art. i scrolled through the page, until i got a popup that told me to log into tumblr for more. and here i am.

and i found this AMAZING fandom. so MANY fandoms! tumblr is our little corner of the internet. i really wish i had some talent to share, but i am mostly a consumer here, appreciating the unbridled talent of all you artists

i love so much that i have found "my people" here. those of you who are like me, silly and dorky and obsessive and wild and passionate about the clones (or star wars in general, or harry potter, or marvel, or anime or games or anything!)

thank you to anyone and everyone who has been brave enough to put themselves out here for us to enjoy your work!

as we approach the end of the line, just a few shout outs to bloggers who particularly stand out to me when im thinking of the bad batch fandom.

@shyranno it was your art that led me to tumblr!

@zoeykallus you wrote one of the first spicy clone head cannons i ever came across (pretty sure it was where tbb likes to finish haha) but all your fan fics are amazing!

@ventresses your memes make me scream laugh every time. i dont know how you do it

@alligatorpie1945 i love your tbb au drawings, esp the one where they are on a roadtrip and the car has broken down

@ladykagewaki your art is so heartwarming. i adore your artistic style. ms fangirl is so relatable and the baby batch is too adorable to be allowed.

@isthereanechoinhere96 thanks for not getting annoyed when i tag you in posts you have already reblogged 🤣 i love your lego comics! soo cute!

i know im forgetting people but i love you all! just because our show is ending doesnt mean this fandom will! ❤️

two more hours....

[maximwtf]

“Forsaken talents.”

Kaveh x Reader

Words: 1770

Google Docs Pages: 3

Warnings: Established relationship, emotional hurt/comfort, a little corny idk leave me alone

Opening: Turns out your position in one of the biggest commissions you’d gotten wasn’t secured, and someone else got it instead of you. But thankfully you live with an artist who knows how it feels. 

AN// G/N reader. Not sure if I wanna start writing for Kaveh more, but let’s test the waters with this and see where it goes :”D Yuhh, also last of my "left these in docs to rot" fics, finished at last. I shall now disappear once more. Opening requests again too c:

“Forsaken talents.”

You were on the way back from an important meeting, it having lasted for hours. Or so it had felt while stressing how it would go. You’d been attempting to secure a spot in a commission that could have very well been considered the biggest one you’d been seen for. Having obviously been excited, yet scared. Telling all of this to Kaveh the night before, though hiding most of the fright you’d been dealing with concerning the final meeting. This would have been a huge step forwards in your career, only if it had gone according to plan. 

The company had already found someone more fitting to their idea, and due to that turned you down. Making you leave the building with mixed feelings. On top of all, upset. 

So you were on your way back home, defeated as ever. Feeling bad about having hyped up this possibility earlier, and having it end up like this. Not feeling so thrilled anymore. In truth, you didn’t even have the motivation to explain this all to Kaveh, when he’d ultimately ask how the meeting had gone. Because not only would you bring down the mood, but also have to relive the events of that day again. Somehow, the singular meeting had drained all energy out of you. 

As slowly as you had tried to walk, an all too familiar door was at last standing in front of you. For once, not bringing a feeling of comfort. But unease, knowing what laid behind it. The conversation you most likely had to go through or at the very least try to avoid.

Drawing in a breath, you mentally prepared for what had kept you on edge the whole way. Trying to stay strong enough to not just burst into tears at the very sight of Kaveh. Thinking of suggesting talking about the result of the meeting later that day. You had planned a lunch date with him way before this, not really wishing to be the one to bring down the mood just before it. That would most likely ruin the whole mood, adding on to the pile of thoughts already swarming your mind. 

Either way, if he asked anything about the meeting you could merely suggest hurrying to the restaurant. Hinting at the time, not having enough to discuss the meeting. 

Nodding to yourself before exhaling and opening the door slowly, stepping through the threshold. Hoping you could pull this off without ruining the mood. Or even worse, making him worry. 

You walked in, eyes spotting Kaveh on one of the couches. Hunched over, eyes keenly looking over something from a notebook. Clearly rather deep in thought with a new project. Seemingly working endlessly, which had been one of the reasons you’d agreed to going on the date with him. To get him to clear his mind for a moment before he’d ultimately go back to working on whatever he had undone. Seemingly there being an endless amount, not that it hadn’t been the same for you at certain points. 

After a brief moment you walked up to him, greeting him with an awkward sense of joy. “Which project is this?” You asked right after, eyeing the sketches and notes in front of him. But Kaveh didn’t seem interested in answering, sensing something wasn’t quite right. His gaze moved up to you, “is everything alright?” He asked, a curious but gentle look on his face. But to which you replied by shaking your head, “nothing serious, I promise. Just something bugging me about the meeting.” Trying to dodge the question to the best of your efforts, passing the topic on. But that hadn’t seemed to do the trick, seeing as he’d taken a light hold of your hands. Only now noticing how they’d been fidgeting, the contact with him making it stop. “Come on, you know that didn't sound convincing at all. I can tell when something's bugging you. Spill it.” He asked, looking up at you. Feeling awful about pushing him away gently before placing your folder on the table. Swearing in your mind you’d felt his eyes follow you, clearly confused and a little irritated with how little you were letting him know. 

Needing the moment to end, you turned to him again. “Could we go have lunch first? It’s not that big of a deal, you know how some clients get… And if I explain the events of a multi hour meeting now…I doubt we’ll make it to our reservation, no?” You said, cringing a little at the excuse. But it seemed to have worked. Making Kaveh go quiet for a moment, clearly contemplating if that was the right course of action. But at the end giving in, accepting the suggestion. 

Joining you a little hesitantly, clearly something on his mind now as well. “What?” You questioned, seeing him frown before sighing. “But you’ll tell me when we get back?” He asked, looking rather hopeful up until you sighed. “Please, I just don’t want the plans I suggested force you to leave if you’re not feeling up for it.” He added, walking behind you to the door.

Giving him another firm head shake you opened the front door. The fresh air feeling a lot easier to breathe than the one inside. “We’ll see about that after…come on.” You reached for his hand, not wanting to dwell on this for any longer. 

Throughout the lunch Kaveh kept exchanging looks with you, making it quite clear to you that he was eager to hear what had happened. And you couldn’t lie, you didn’t enjoy yourself as much as you would have hoped. The events of that day playing at the back of your mind. Making you chat with him less than you usually did. And each time you did reply to him it was almost awkwardly visible you didn’t wish to be out in public.  Not making it hard for him to be well aware the meeting hadn’t gone well, able to guess the outcome. 

Arriving back home, you barely had time to settle when he asked again. “Come on, are you feeling alright? And if you’re not, that’s okay, but tell me.” Kaveh almost whined, bothered by not being able to do anything to help. Seeing an opportunity to for once be able to help you in return for all the care you’d provided for him. “Like you said, I know how some clients can get,” he chuckled after. Waiting for you to respond for a moment, but seeing as you stayed silent, he continued. “So maybe this time I could help you, hm?” The offer clearly loaded with the expectation that you’d finally spill what had happened. 

You bit your lower lip, weighing our options. Soon enough, a sigh escaped as your shoulders dropped. A burning feeling at the back of your eyes as your guard was slowly shattering in real time. Finding it hard to recollect yourself by that point, merely staring right back at him as the first few tears welled up. Sniffling for a moment until you ultimately saw it best to walk up to him before breaking down any further. To which he responded, wrapping his arms around you before the more broken sobs escaped. 

You allowed yourself to cry against him for a moment, slowly starting to explain. “They let me present what I had planned…A-and…” You sniffled, raising your chin to his shoulder. “By the end of the meeting…they told me based on today, they…they had someone more suited for the work.” You sobbed out the truth, pent up frustration shown in a rather raw form. But it felt right, the meeting having left you feeling rather worthless. 

Kaveh cupped the back of your head, feeling your hands gently grip the front of his shirt. Desperately wishing to fix this. "You know how talented you are, right..? Their decision doesn’t show the worth of your skills and time. And..there’s other clients out there who’ll respect you way more.” He explained, guiding you to look at him for a moment. “Plus, maybe it’s good they dropped you. If they couldn’t even see the genius you are.” Kaveh tried to smile carefully, attempting to bring the mood up a little. 

You sniffled, freeing one of your hands to wipe some of the tears away. “I know…but I was almost certain the spot was locked. But then it got cancelled..just like that?” You shrugged, an upset frown forming on your face. Feeling Kaveh gently ruffle your hair, though seemingly making sure he didn’t mess it up. “Hell, I bet they’ll regret letting you go soon enough? And I’ll laugh when they’ll come back begging for you to work with them again, hm?” He said, smiling at the small laugh you let out through the sniffles. Biting his cheek when you leaned in to press a few kisses along his jawline. “We can laugh at them together.” You said, feeling a little better after telling everything to him. 

Kaveh smiled at the statement, pulling you back against him, pleased to see the mood get better. Prepared to rub it in their face if the company came back, but not daring to say it out loud. Assuming you had thought he had been joking, keeping his actual plan a secret for now. 

So instead he let his hand caress the back of your neck, placing a kiss to the top of your head before releasing you from the embrace. 

You lifted your head up a little to see him while wiping your eyes. A faint red on your cheeks and eyes, sniffling before speaking up again. “Thank you,” you whispered in a voice filled with emotion. Grateful he’d been so willing to help the whole time, even when you’d effectively pushed him away multiple times. “You have so many things on your shoulders too, you didn’t have to.” Which was true in your opinion. You’d seen how hard he worked and yet, he was so willing to drop it all earlier to speak to you. Knowing he was always prepared to do that for anyone he cared about, which never failed to amaze you. 

Kaveh smiled while looking down at you, hands still gently at your hips. Barely holding on. “No need to thank me, really. You’ve helped me… What? About a dozen times in the past. I owe you if anything.” He chuckled, tilting his head. “And even if I didn’t…what kind of a person would I be if I let you sit this over alone, hm?” He hummed, joyed to see a familiar smile back on your face once more. 

[yuseirra]

To be very honest, it's been pretty hard to feel confident about my own art sometimes. I keep ending up thinking it's not good enough and that I'll never get that great. I kept trying to get myself to accept that and just relax and go along and have fun with it, but at the same time, but that's also something I wish to deny and prove untrue! I like my drawings and I enjoy drawing a lot. I'm so glad there's always been people who've found something good about them. I'm glad I have something to share and show.

I don't really consider myself to have a lot of talent when it comes to art, (there are things that I struggle so much with and doesn't come so natural even after all the years I've spent) although I feel there are also certain strengths I have as someone who draws. I like those strengths I have, they align with what I want in my works, fortunately, and I just draw because there are things I really, really like and feel so much drive to make. That should be enough...yet, I still want to be GOOD though. That's something pretty subjective, and so vague to obtain. Perhaps this is a struggle almost every artist or creators, in general, face.

At least I've kept drawing and have never given up on it, the most important thing for me is to enjoy the process. I've never stressed myself too much regarding art, and that could be the reason why I improve very slow ;v;.. That has its ups and downs.

But in the end, I'll be able to draw better and better in the future, I believe so! '-')9 I'll be able to present cool things, I know that can happen, so till then~ I want to keep going! And I will.

If you've been watching me, thank you for accompanying my journey! I hope you have a good time wherever and whenever you are, I'll keep doing my own thing, and it'll be nice if it aligns with your paths and you have fun watching!

[misc-obeyme]

Hey it’s me again!

If you could write about how the brothers react to an mc that doesn’t allow anyone to see in side their sketch book and when they do show them

(If it’s too long that’s okay too, Hope you have a good day)

Hello again!

Okay I tend to imagine the brothers being very interested in anything their MC is doing, but some of them are certainly more persistent than others lol. Anyway, I enjoyed writing this!

Thank you for the request!

brothers reacting to GN!MC who won't let them see their sketchbook at first

Warnings: none!

Lucifer

He notices that you’re always sketching away, but he’s not going to ask you about it at first. He’s just glad you’re keeping busy.

Gets curious and asks you what you’re always drawing. When you refuse to show him, he doesn’t push you. Just accepts that you’re keeping it to yourself.

When it’s just the two of you, you finally let him see it. He won’t ask you after your first refusal so you have to show him yourself. He’s impressed that you’re so dedicated to honing this skill. Flips through the pages reverently.

If you’ve sketched him at all, he’ll act like it’s no big deal, but he’s secretly pleased. Unless you’ve drawn him looking tired in which case you’ll probably get a lecture. Shouldn’t you be helping him instead of drawing him in such moments, MC?

Mammon

Asks to see your sketchbook the moment he notices it in your hands. You are gonna have to fight him off. C’mon, MC! Let him see it!

He’ll give up eventually but he’s gonna pout at you about it. Always trying to sneak a peek. And yet if you leave it somewhere, he won’t open it. Just brings it back to you without looking inside. He wants to see it but he wants you to show him.

When you finally do, he’s so happy. Completely thrilled to finally be granted the opportunity to look through it. He loves it. He wants to keep it for himself. If it’s full and you don’t mind, he will.

Gets real flustered if he sees you’ve drawn him. Realizes this means you’ve observed him enough to get the details down. Mammon will be blushing like crazy but he won't be able stop looking at it.

Leviathan

His curiosity is intense. He wants to see inside the sketchbook. He will respect your wishes though and won’t pester you too much.

Levi very likely does some art of his favorite characters himself. So if he has a sketchbook too he’ll show it to you. He’ll be crazy nervous but he’ll show you any fanart he’s done.

When you finally show him, he’s blown away. Oh MC you’re so talented! If you take commissions, he will commission you on the spot. Wants you to draw all kinds of characters for him. He’s ready to spend all his Grimm on this.

If you drew him, he’s going to freak right out. You made him way too good looking. But he’s incredibly flattered that you wanted to draw him at all. Won’t be able to look at it for too long he’s too embarrassed.

Satan

Oh? Are you an artist, MC? He really appreciates the skills required for such endeavors. Won’t you show him some of your work? He’ll accept your refusal. He gets it. Art can indeed be very personal.

He won’t bother you about it, but he will bring it up again. He’ll ask every once in a while if you would like to show him what you’re working on. If you continue to refuse, he will simply move on.

So when you do finally show him, he’s aware of the fact that you trust him enough to do so. This means a lot to him. He’s in love with your work. Asks a lot of questions about your techniques. What kind of materials do you use? What kinds of things do you like to draw most?

Satan will linger over any drawing of him you may have done. Gets thoughtful about how you view him. If you drew him when he wasn’t angry, he’ll appreciate how you see more than wrath in him. But make him really happy by drawing him some cats.

Asmodeus

He certainly wants to see your sketchbook, but even more than that he wants to model for you. Draw him like one of your French girls, MC! You may have to talk him out of posing nude for you. Unless you decide you want to draw a nude model, then you know you can always count on him!

He’s going to ask to look at your sketchbook, but he’ll let it go when you refuse. Might pester you about it a little bit, but doesn’t get too insistent. Trusts that you’ll eventually show him when you’re ready.

Fully appreciates your skill when you do finally show him. He wants to collaborate with you on some new clothing designs. He’s so happy you’re comfortable sharing your art with him.

If you actually did draw him, he’s going to be thrilled. Asmo wants to keep all the sketches of him you’ve done. He’ll put them up in his room where he can see them all the time. Talks you into doing a self portrait so he can admire the two of you together.

Beelzebub

He’s curious, but he won’t ask or bother you about showing him your sketchbook. He will protect it from the prying eyes of others. Glares down any of his brothers that might hassle you about it.

Since he’ll never ask, you’ll have to take it upon yourself to show him. In fact he’s so chill about it that you probably feel comfortable showing him pretty quickly.

He loves everything he sees. He thinks you’re an amazing artist, MC. Beel may suggest you draw some food if you haven’t, but he loves anything that you create. Tell him about your inspirations.

He will get blushy and smile if he finds you have drawn him. He’ll be even more impressed if it’s an action pose - like one where he’s playing Fangol. But either way, he’s happy to see himself through your eyes like this.

Belphegor

Notices your sketchbook, but doesn’t care at first. He has other things to worry about like where to take his next nap. If you tend to sit and draw a lot, he’ll start using your lap as his pillow. Doesn’t mind if you lean your sketchbook on his back to keep drawing. Actually finds this pretty relaxing.

Eventually he’ll get curious. You draw in that sketchbook a lot, MC. Are you any good? When you won’t show him, he’ll just shrug about it and go back to sleep.

Acts like it’s no big deal when you do finally show him, but really it means a lot to him. Knows that it means you trust him enough. Loves all of your art. Points out how he can see the improvement as he flips through it.

He’s actually really curious about how you’ve drawn all his brothers. Lingers over any sketches of them you’ve done. Blushes only a little if he sees one of himself. You really managed to capture his essence.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[butterflywannabefree]

Moodboards for @camhues

So, I've been getting a bit bored with my life lately and decided I needed to do something to get busy. My art skills are killing me and I'm trying to practice but I gave up for a while. Then I'm scrolling through Tumblr and admiring everyone's amazing OC's and I wish I could draw like them and some of them are underrated more than should be so...Why not just celebrate them ?! I can't for my own life draw anything good but what I can do is find good aesthetic choices and I love making moodboards and such for characters. So that's what I'm doing for OC's of people who need more attention ! Today we are starting with the beautiful and talented @camhues. If you don't know them, she is a artist of Tumblr mostly known for her LMK OC's and does a lot of doodles with them. And she makes only women and OH MY GOD, THESE ARE THE MOST GORGEOUS WOMEN IN MY LIFE AHH- Enough, I need to get on. She has a lot and I did one for all of them ! (Sheesh-) Or at least the ones I know. So Here's the Moodboards for them and a quick summary of what I think of them.

First off, Mama Jun. Her main OC from what I know and sort of a mother figure to MK and a reincarnation like Pigsy and Tang. Um, she's so gorgeous. I want that braid and the simplistic design works in her favor because there is something so simple and charming about her when I look at her. Also, her Mama-Son bond with MK is adorable-

Then there is Daiyu who from what I know is a Plant-Controller Demoness...or something ? Oh, and she's shipped with Red Son and their name is RedJade. Not as simplistic as Jun but it works in her favor here because she could step on me and I wouldn't be offended. Just let me smell the roses you grow, Daiyu !

Next here is Ling who is a Jade Maiden and is probably one of my current favorites. One of the simpler designs which I love and the lore behind her is also something I wanna find out. Her aesthetic was something I struggled with but it worked out. And as for who she is dating, it is unclear as Cam said she could be with one of three characters. Azure, Wukong or Macaque- I think she and Azure would be really cute-

Here we have Miss Suyin, secretary to the Spider Queen and Resident Mommy according to those who repost her- That's why I added that 'Mommy, sorry-' picture, I couldn't skip the joke. This woman is one of the many reasons I like women with glasses and she's a spider and her 4 eyes look cool-

Another one of my favorites, Baozhu. A Monkey Painter who is someone who I really wanna exist in real life so I can touch her fur and hair because it looks so fluffy ! I mean, look at this girlie ! She's FLOOFY ! I wanna touch the floof ! <333

And now we have domineering Lady in Ao Jiang who from that name I believe is somehow related to Ao Lie ? And is part of Mei's family ? I don't know that much yet but yeah, I love this one. Also, the little jewels hanging from her horns ? *Chef's kiss*

Space Lady Polaris who is giving me stars in my eyes for how cute she looks alone. She looks like someone who would be waiting in my dreams so I could just talk to her. I don't wanna burden her with my troubles though-

Brave Knight of the Falling Stars Asterius who I think might be related to Polaris in some way. They are both Space related in a way. I wonder if there is a connection ? But I love how she looks. She seems like a tomboy and I love tomboy characters :)

Lychee, Oh Lychee, how I tried to do justice for you ! But your aesthetic was something I couldn't nail down much. But at least I added real Lychee's for your sake and put some baking and wrestling into it. Please don't hit me...Or you can. You're gorgeous as you are friking intimidating. For a wrestler and a baker anyway.

Meihua who is honestly one of the most wholesome characters I have seen in a while. She gives me hopeless romantic vibes which I tried to add in here. The flowers for his florist work as well and mainly pink for this one because it matches her hair. Younger me would've loved her while current me thinks she's a lovable character who needs protection.

This woman, however, doesn't need protection as she can use her heels to murder her way through the crowd. Xin Yan, everyone. An evil woman who is gorgeous and she knows it. I heard she was a dancer and singer and the owner of a nightclub so that inspired this a lot. Xin Yan looks like she could kill me with a stare...and I would thank her for it.

Zhenzhu who I don't know much about but damn I really wanna give her a hug because she looks so sad in this picture. She's a handmaiden from what I know for the Empress of Heaven. HOW IS SHE A HANDMAIDEN WITH THE LOOKS OF A GODDESS ??

Chenguang is the ancestor of Jun who once went on the Journey to the West disguised as a man. Her aesthetic was hard to nail down but I eventually went for one that has themes of independence, journeys and outdoor backgrounds.

Ehuang who I thought was another version of Wyldfyre from Ninjago: Dragons Rising. If I didn't know she couldn't control fire, I would've thought fire would be her entire thing. That's why I added boiling water. Along with potions and lots of red.

And last of the OC'S, Chyou ! Who I really don't know much about except for the fact she is an Egret Celestial. So she's graceful as the bird itself and as beautiful as it as well. She is really lovely and the flowers in her hair are a nice touch <3 And that's all the OC's belonging to @camhues ! Or at least the ones I know. If I missed anything, I apologize and I'll make one for them on another day. But for now, have this. These were so much fun to make ! :)

Also, Cam, if you are looking at this, this is for you:

This moodboard is for you ! Don't take this the wrong way but you give me Chaotic Academia vibes- That's not an insult ! I'm sorry, your art is lovely and should be viewed by everyone ! Maybe I'll do this again but I don't know yet. I have to find time to do so. For now, have these gorgeous women ! And guys, please go and take a look as Cam's stuff. They are a very talented artist with a unique style and just a lot of women who you will grow to love ! For now, I'm Vee and I'll see you later when I can :D

All these beautiful characters belong to @camhues (Do not steal from her)

[ducktracy]

Hey, I just wanted to say that The Bear That Wasn't was one of my favorite picture books as a child, but since I wasn't aware of Tashlin back then I only learned it was his work after seeing you tweet it a while back. Revisiting it, it's still joyous and funny, but there's a deep poignant truth in the story that's very relevant to both myself and the world at large. And while Tashlin had an amazing career, The Bear That Wasn't is the work of his that I cherish the most.

I'M SOOOO HONORED AND TOUCHED BY THIS ASK!!!! thank you for sending this in!! i'm so happy to hear you have such a special connection with this book!! i really wish i had known about it sooner--one of my many artistic aspirations as a kid was to be a children's book illustrator, and that's a book that i know i would have been utterly fixated by and used as inspiration had i had it. so this makes me so happy to hear!!

and YES, I AAAABSOLUTELY recommend everyone reading this ask to read the book! you can! right here! for free! treat your eyeballs not only to these gorgeous Tashlin drawings, but a very touching and as you said POIGNANT story!! it's so fantastic. Frank Tashlin is seriously one of my biggest and most omnipresent inspirations, i swear he just about influences every facet of my life that i could possibly regard with any sort of artistic influence. he was an amazing cartoonist, an amazing cartoon director, an amazing live action director and now an amazing author!!

another book i'd love to get my hands on is another one of his, The Possum That Didn't. images are a bit hard to come by online, but the illustrations still have that same charm and it's just!! UGH! the level of talent on display!!

while images may be hard to find, there is an animated version! i'll have to give it a watch since i haven't seen it myself! i also need to reacquaint myself with Chuck Jones' adaptation of The Bear That Wasn't. i'm glad that Tash's books were regarded enough to get animated adaptations... and by his old coworkers, no less! though if memory serves, i don't think Tash was very impressed with Jones' take lol

i wasn't very happy with how it was coming out so i (hopefully momentarily) abandoned it, but a few months ago i tried doing some screenshot redraws mimicking the style of Tashlin's book illustrations in hope of creating a mock-up storybook adaptation of Nasty Quacks as a sort of "prep project" for another project i do have in mind and do want to commit to.. maybe someday i'll pick it back up. but, needless to say, his books are as big of an influence on me as his cartoons and his movies and his comics!! i'm so glad to hear this