#your honor I’m simply in a silly goofy mood

[circuscountdowns]

Hi! Wanted to start off by saying that I LOVE your cotl art its such a huge inspiration to me :D! I recently picked up drawing again and I've unfortunately been upset? envious?! of others' skills and just wanted to ask if you ever experienced this as a fellow artist and if so how do you not do that lol. Sorry for the weird question. I just thought some insight and advice from a fellow artist could helo. BUT I hope you still have a nice day and look forward to any more cotl art or anything you draw really :D!!! (also is okay if you don't answer it is a loaded question I just be in a silly goofy mood lately okay bye!)

oh wow being on the receiving end of a question like this is surreal, I’m honored my work inspires you! Thank u, you’re sweet, it’s not a loaded question at all! Here’s my long reply sorry

so unfortunately that comparing yourself to others thing doesn’t go away ever asdfgjkl. I suffer it every day, it sucks, feels bad. I’ve had industry people tell me they feel this way and they’ll have some of the most gorgeous visdev/boards/animation I’ve ever seen. Disheartening to hear, But! I’m a big believer that comparing your artworks with others is best used as a tool and not a punishment to yourself!

When looking at art you like, try to turn thoughts of, “Man I wish my stuff looked like that, my shit sucks,” to, “What is it that I like about this piece? The line art? The perspective?” Sometimes I’ll see work with thin line art and I’ll get an itch, and I’ll draw something with thin line art. It’s a conscious effort of keepin emotion out of that itch, keeping it as, “I saw art with thin lines, I want to do that. Yay I did that!” Compartmentalize it, the itch was simply to do thin line work, not to remake the piece you were inspired by. And you got a piece of art out of it, and a single piece is progress no matter how small!

If you want to compare, do it methodically! Why does my work look different (never use the words better or worse)! Oh, I see my piece doesn’t follow the rule of thirds, so the framing is different, I’ll be aware of that next time if it bothers me. Or, Oh I see they shade by hatching along with the form, I’ve just been going horizontally, I’ll try that other way!

it’s a learning curve of training yourself, like all corrective behavior.

like, I kinda have the warning feeling of dread when I’m about to compare my work with something, so before the self-deprecating thought can even start I have to think What do I Like about this?

I’m no expert at it, though. Actually getting myself to think this way is a struggle, but I find when I make Thoughtful Observations I level up. Not by a lot most times, but yknow.

and this part is just my personal experience:

Fanart and the internet can be the biggest Art skill killer sometimes. Get offline and cater to the audience that Really matters to your passion: You! I improved the most by spending 2-3 years doing doodles/comics/models for my dnd campaign ocs because I was that obsessed and I simply wanted to have it for me!

and after all that, then there’s the hardest skill of just accepting your work as is.

like, to me, my work is just scribbles. I see other artists’ stuff and go “Man they’re so good at comics and colors, man, why can’t I color?” But do I need to??? I don’t like coloring, do I need to be good at it? This isn’t a career, this is supposed to be fun! I scribble because I like it! I’m glad this persons good at coloring, I don’t need to be! Yay!

if I Want to be good at it, I’ll take the steps to get there! But if not, my scribbles are just fine :) I love black and white and values

I’ve been having that one on repeat for a while. It helps

(acceptance and denial go hand in hand btw lol they sound the same)

I wish there was a little off button for envy, but ah well! I hope that you take comfort in knowing we are all feeling it, and find joy in even the smallest little doodle you make! Have fun stay goofy!

[tiktaalic]

IF little teenage baby dyke alicent got caught being Improper with rhaenyra. Rhaenyra would go your honor (dad) I was simply in a silly goofy targy mood. And Viserys would go. Shakes head fondly. Because I love you dearly. I must pardon this behavior. While alicent would have to live out But I’m A Cheerleader. and then for the rest of her life have silent tense dinners with her father where she hesitantly tries to make polite conversation and there’s always a 50/50 chance that he’ll out of nowhere say you are a disappointment and always have been and your attempts to redeem yourself are pathetic. And it rules!

[heisenbutch]

..

[infinitegalahad]

SO IST ES IMMER

Request: “Hi😊 can I request "come lay down with me" or "can I count your freckles?" with Malarkey? Thank you❤️ love your writing” @tvserie-s-world

Prompts: “come lady down with me” & “can i count your freckles?”

Summary: Malarkey and you drink and sing when the fighting is done, and it's always so.

Word-count: 1.1k

A/N: FRANNY! first of all, thank you for this request. i love my boy malarkey, and i wish to see him happy. your ask got lost in another draft, i’m so sorry about the wait! “so ist es immer” means “it is always like that” in german. this is once again, a shameful song fic. i wanted to write some fluffly malarkey, with a tint of sadness. oh, and a scenic lake view ft skinny dipping and malarkey’s arms, because who doesn’t love that?

Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @liebgotttme @50svibes @ricksmorty @pennyllanne @capsparkyspeirs

Masterlist | Send In A Prompt!

“What’s the matter Malark, are you scared of a little water?” You peaked your head from the water with only your eyes showing. The rest of your nude body was covered by the dark water, illuminated by the crescent moon.

Malarkey was slunched against a rock with a few empty bottles. It was the first time in a while we’re you had seen his smile that could light up a whole room. His sheer prescene would boost someone’s mood with his goofy smile and kind words.

He let out a chuckle that lingered with a snort, “I ain’t scared. It just looks...cold. Aren’t you freezing?”

Your body floated to the top of the water as you looked up at the sky with it’s thousands of crushed stats and moon, “ You get use to it. It’s a little lonely, I would like some company...someone who’s irish with nice, big arms would sound nice...”

You turned your head and made eye contact with Malarkey as the two of you burst into laughter like careless children without a worry in the world. He was the first person who noticed your laugh, and the snorts that would trickle along. It was a quirk that you grew to hate, but Malarkey made you learn to love it.

When you were around him, the weight of the world would disappear and the dreary clouds of war would depart, letting in a warmth and light that you had craved.

Malarkey patted an empty spot right next to him. His face looked soft, his finger hair a shade lighter in the light of the moon.

“Come lay down with me,” Malarkey professed, patting the grassy spot next to him.

You turned over in the water and pushed yourself out. You wore a simple slip that stuck to your body. If you were around the others, you’d be as red as a tomato. But around Malarkey, you never had to worry.

Malarkey wasn’t wrong about Austria being beautiful, but deathly cold at night. Once you had crawled next to him, he had taken off his jacket and threw it over your shoulders. For extra protection, he made sure you were snug and warm.

You put a hand on your chest and acted overdramatic, “Why Malarkey! I never took you for a gentlemen, good sir! Thank you for this act, good sir.”

Malarkey titled his head as if he had a real hat, like a gentleman would do, in which he was. “Anytime, milady.”

Malarkey and you, wrapped in his jacket that was too big for you, leaned against a rock and looked up at the starry sky. It was silent, but it was just what the two of you needed. Peace and quiet. Your shoulders would occasionally brush, and it felt like hours had been going by. Your eyes had taken a break from the flashing stars to look down. Yours hand casually laid on the ground, and Malarkey’s hand was trickling forward.

Shit. Shit. Mega Shit.

Unable to react, you blurted out a sentence that would hopefully have you from the awkwardness.

“Can I Count your freckles?”

Malarkey looked over, and his hand stopped moving towards yours. He shrugged his shoulder and nodded,

“Yeah, why not. Should I…” Malarkey looked down, “Um...lay…?”

“In my lap?” You looked down, “It’s wet, I hope you like the feeling of a wet slip.”

Malarkey let out a goosey laugh, laying his head down on your lap and clasping his hands on his chest.

“Honestly Miss Y/n, I would feel honored to lay in your lap.”

Your finger started at the top of Malarkey’s forehead, counting every brown dot you saw. The tip of your finger slided from his eyes to the bridge of his nose to the tip. His cheeks were the hardest, and you muttered under your breath. Once you got your counting in control, Malarkey spoke.

“Do you have any plans after all this?”

Focused on the counting, you could easily multitask and you responded, “I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. You?”

“Yeah, I don’t know eithier,” Malarkey casually stated. Your finger reached his lip, and counted the freckles around it. It was accidental, but your finger brushed against the smooth skin of his lips, and it made your cheeks burn. Atleast your’s wasn’t as obvious as Malarkey’s, who looked like a damn tomato.

“Malark?” You cooed, looking down with raised eyebrows, “You okay?”

“Comebackhomewithandiloveyouandyourtheonlypersonihavelefthaticantrust-“

“Wow there cowboy,” You let out a laugh not to make fun of Malarkey, but to calm him. Putting a hand on his chest, you gave it a reassuring pat, “A little slower, please.”

“Curse of the Irish,” Malarkey took a deep breath and exhaled. He put his hand over yours and gave it a tight squeeze, resting it on top of yours. “Do you like hiking?”

“What do you think, silly goose? We’ve hiked ever trail that they have here. Of course I love hiking!”

“What about being surrounded by large bodies of water? What do you think of those?”

“I love water, and I don’t mind it one bit. So yeah, guess I do.”

“Can I ask you one last question?”

You gave Malarkey your full attention and nodded, “Of course you can.”

“Do you like me?” Malarkey confessed, his cheeks going red again as he muttered under his breath.

You looked up at the stars and laughed to yourself. The question he was asking already gave it away, and you found it too adorable. Finally, he had made a move. It was about time.

“Well, that’s a good question,” You pondered. Malarkey looked worried, but you gave him a reassuring smile, “Like is a strong word, but I like love is more suitable. So yeah, I love you, Donald Malarkey.”

“I love you too, (y/n) (l/n),” Malarkey confessed back. He moved his head up, which was a few inches away from yours.

“Um, how do I say this…” Malarkey stuttered, “May I kiss you, please?”

Without responding, you pecked your lips onto Malakrey’s, leaving a faint tint of your lipstick on his lips. His eyes were widened as his mouth hung open, his cheeks getting even darker.

“Thank you so much,” He thanked, and gave you another kiss and a few others around your cheeks. “I love you, I love you, I love you-“

Malarkey repeated those words, and you let him cover your body with thousands of little kisses, just like you had counted the freckles, or you considered stars, all over his face and body.

Malakrey stopped to take a breather and looked at your face with total awe. You turned to him and put a hand on his cheek, simply looking at him. He was finally happy again, and you wanted to see him like this more.

“So, how does Astoria sound to you, Mrs. Malarkey?”

Malarkey was himself around you, and you were yourself around him. The two of you benefactores from each other's kindness and love.

“Astoria sounds great, Mister Malarkey.”

[lia-jones]

Growing Together - Chapter Five - The Loving Puppeteer

Victor took the first powered steps on the gravel path with a determined look in his eyes, his heart beating increasingly faster due to the effort of running and his rage.

The last time he had seen Lucien, the world was a very different place. Seven years ago, they still had their Evols, and the world was falling into chaos, a disease spreading amongst the Non-Evolvers, killing them all in a merciless plague. There was a Queen that, along with a secret evil organization, was planning on taking over the planet and having it ruled only by Evolvers.

On behalf of the professor’s beloved “evolution”, he and countless other children had been tortured, many killed, and anyone that dared to face the scumbags was assassinated and thrown into oblivion. Victor was one of Black Swan’s opposers, and he was certain that his life had only been spared so far because of his Evol and the financial power he had. He would never allow them to hurt Mia, her being the vessel for their Queen. There were no limits to what he was willing to do for her, and as he predicted, saving Mia was at the expense of something very dear to all Evolvers, including himself. At first, Victor had expected retaliation, but it never came. Everyone seemed resigned to the cost of peace.

Now, after all those years, Lucien had not only dared to show his face again, but also contact Victor’s ingenuous wife. This could only mean two things. First, Black Swan was active again, and they probably wanted retribution for what he had done. Victor knew they wouldn’t be as merciful now; it wouldn’t matter how powerful he was. Second, his solution hadn’t been as effective as he thought it was, and they were getting ready to strike again. He needed to find out how.

After running for about a mile, Victor turned to a secluded area in the park. He spotted his informant on the situation: Gavin.

“So? What did you find?” Victor cut to the chase, too worked up to waste time with pleasantries.

“Nothing that we didn’t know before.” Gavin stated. “Black Swan remains inactive, most of the members of the council are either dead or missing. Lucien is in Creekwood, working as a teacher. We have agents on him 24/7, nothing suspicious so far.”

Victor maintained his poker face, hiding his frustration.

“Your agents apparently missed Lucien’s trip to Loveland.” He spat.

“You met him?” Gavin’s eyes opened wide. “What did he want?”

“I didn’t.” Victor wasn’t sure how much he could trust Gavin with, so he decided not to disclose the whole truth. “But I know for a fact that he was here.”

Gavin’s expression changed for a moment, a hint of worry flashing in his eyes.

“Do you know something that I don’t?” With that break in his typical stoicism, Victor could tell Gavin was hiding something.

“He’s after Mia.” Gavin reluctantly revealed. “Whatever he came to do, it has to do with her. Let me know if you find something else. Mia may be in danger again.”

As he left, Victor found himself alone with his thoughts. He didn’t know why Gavin was so certain Lucien’s return had to do with Mia, but he would find out. However, that piece of information was enough to soothe some of Victor’s worry: Lucien wasn’t trying to threaten Victor. Lucien had mentioned finding good friends in old enemies, so he wanted to partner with him for some reason, and Andrea was the way he found to approach him. Which made sense. If the traitor had come to him directly, the CEO wouldn’t have hesitated to dispose of him immediately.

At LFG, he summoned his private investigators. Their information was pretty much the same: apart from that visit to Andrea’s facility, Lucien was keeping to himself, dedicated to his new life in Creekwood. The other members of BS that survived were also under Victor’s investigators' watchful eyes and seemed to be busy with their new lives as well. Apart from Lucien’s visit, there was nothing that would indicate that BS was active again.

It all felt too quiet for Victor. There was certainly more than met the eye, and Victor wasn’t one to be caught unprepared. Especially when it came to protecting his wife. He summoned his legal team that same morning. It was time to put his plan in motion.

Per Victor’s instructions, Goldman called Andrea’s assistant, scheduling a meeting at LFG that very same afternoon. A driver would pick Andrea up, and she was to be received with all formalities, as if she was an important business partner. Victor hated all the theatrics, but if he wanted to convince her and not have her figure out what he was up to, they were essential. If he wanted to keep her safe she could never find out his true intentions.

He sat at his desk, unable to focus on his work, his palms sweating. There was a knock on the door.

“She’s in the conference room, waiting for you.” Goldman announced. “She seems to be in a good mood.”

Victor allowed his facial features to relax into his usual inscrutable expression and walked towards his wife. Andrea got up the second she saw him.

“Do you miss me so much that you have to schedule an appointment to see me?” She smiled. “All you need to do is call.”

She approached him for a kiss. Victor lifted his left hand, motioning her to stop.

“Right now, I’m not your husband.” With a grand gesture, he removed the wedding ring from his finger, setting it on the table. “At this moment I’m simply Victor Lee, CEO of LFG, and you are simply Andrea Lee, married to some idiot that owns a restaurant. You are my guest and only my guest. Do you understand?”

Andrea’s smile went wider, obviously curious about where he was going with all this. Victor’s expression, however, turned grim and cold. His ruthless poker face expression, the one he used to intimidate adversaries when making business. A battle of wits was about to begin. He sat down, folding his hands on the table.

“Good morning, Mrs. Lee.” Saying her married name was such a pleasure for him he barely could contain the grin.

“Good morning, Mr. CEO.” She assumed her role immediately, and for a moment Victor could picture her like this, working with her peers. There was no silly, goofy Andrea anymore, a sharp expression on her face, but her usual openness remained. She exuded confidence and power, but without any signs of intimidation, which by itself was somewhat intimidating. She demanded respect with a smile. “To what do I owe the honor of your invitation?”

“I know your time is as limited and valuable as mine, so I will cut to the chase.” Victor found himself strangely aroused by the whole interaction and wondered if that’s what couples were getting out of roleplaying. He quickly made the mental note and filed it in the Things to try during intimate moments folder, and focused on the matter at hand. “It has come to our attention that your career has been rising dramatically. You were recently nominated for a GESA award, which is quite a feat for a study that isn’t even finished. Looking back at your records during the time you were an intern at LFG, I have found that your supervisors had nothing but praise to give you, even those who mocked you for being a golden child.” He dropped the term nonchalantly, but it was certainly not lost on Andrea, who chuckled, clearly amused.

“It took me a while to prove my worth to said supervisors, but I left the company under the impression that I had succeeded. I’m glad to know it is more than an impression.” She eyed him with serene eyes, even though Victor was sure that, on the inside, she was giggling like a little girl.

“Admirably so.” He felt the smile coming but suppressed it once again. “All of those factors combined, we had concluded that you would be an important asset for our company, hence the need to meet with you in person. I would like to make you a job offer.”

He watched her closely as her serene smile dropped with the surprise. Barely. He doubted anyone but him could see it.

“A job offer?” There was worry in her voice. Victor's shoulders tensed, and he hurriedly urged them into relaxation again. She could not read into this.

“As you may have heard, I am recently wedded.” He explained and she smiled, again amused with the theatrics. “I can’t possibly run LFG as it is organized now and still spare some personal time for my family. I have decided to invest in the creation of another company, one that can serve LFG’s interests, yet stand on its own. A consulting company, to be exact, Loveland’s Consulting Group. I can’t imagine a better candidate to run this company than you, Mrs. Lee.”

Andrea’s expression was a focused one, and Victor could almost hear the wheels turn inside her head. She was clearly reading the situation, trying to figure out what this job offer was about. It took more than pretty lights to fool his wife, he knew that. But he was ready.

“A subsidiary? I’d be working for you?” She squinted at him.

“LCG would be a C-corporation subsidiary. LFG would merely be the parent company.” He explained. “You would be the CEO and have total control over how LCG operates, provided that you still do all the consulting for LFG. You would have your own clients and run the company as you see fit. In practical terms, LFG would be just another client, although a very important one.”

“Hm.” She paused. “Where would LCG operate?”

“You’ll have a whole floor in LFG tower. The fifth floor, to be precise. It is ready for you to take over and remodel as you see fit. In the spirit of good hosting, LFG will accept all the remodel expenses.”

“What about personnel? LCG would absorb LFG’s employees that were dedicated to consulting?”

“Only the employees you deem are the best fit. The others will be absorbed in other LFG’s departments with a hefty severance check from the financial department.”

“I want Diane.” She threw.

“Done.”

“I want Goldman.”

Victor paused. She was smart. She was pushing him to see how far he would go, how bad he wanted this.

“Goldman is off the table.”

She smiled but said nothing, leaving the tension in the air. Victor felt it was time to push back.

“I will need a prompt answer, Mrs. Lee.”

“Understandable.” She got up, walking in his direction. Taking his wedding ring from the table, she handed it to him. “I just need to speak to my husband first.”

The moment he put his wedding ring on, like magic, her expression changed, and Victor could finally see it all. She was apprehensive. She came closer and leaned on the table, in front of him, running her fingers through his bangs.

“I need the truth.” She looked him in the eye. “Are you pulling strings to keep me close?”

“I do want you to be close.” He didn’t want to lie, but he couldn’t tell her the whole truth either. “But I also need to delegate, and I need to do so with someone I trust. There is no one I trust more in this world than you.”

“What if I fail? Please don’t do this just because I’m your wife.”

“It’s precisely because I know you won’t fail that I’m doing this, not because you are my wife. I would do it regardless of our relationship status.” He took her hand, hoping his touch would ease the frown on her face. It was time to show his last card, the one he knew would make her fold. “Although I want you to run LCG, if you feel it’s not something you want to do, I don’t want you to do it because we are married either.”

She did fold. With a smile, she told him he had won.

“Do you think it’s ok if I kiss my boss?” She moved to his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“You will be your own boss.” He lifted his left hand, showing her the ring on his finger. “And right now, I’m your husband.”

She kissed him sweetly, honestly, showing him all her love, and Victor couldn’t help but feel undeserving of her devotion. He had manipulated her, tricked her into doing his own bidding, like a skillful puppeteer. He had taken advantage of what he knew about her, what she had shown him in their moments of privacy, and used those moments against her, forcing her to cave. Technically, he wasn’t much different than her ex.

He held his wife closer to him, deepening the kiss with fervor, reminding himself of what made him act in such a way. He wasn’t sure why, or when, or how, but he knew she could be in danger because of him. Marrying him put a target on her back, due to his past actions. He needed to keep her safe from harm; he couldn’t afford to lose her. She was his everything.

He loved her. All he had done that day was in the name of love. That realization brought peace to Victor’s heart.