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#too sleepy!!!!!
cuartist · 7 months
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aaaaaaa. back to doing line art again
reading a book on webcomics currently and the author is like, yeah i used to do batches of 8-10 pages and that was rough
(guy who just finalized a batch of 26 pages: 😟 you mean that's not... a normal size batch?)
(issue is, i want the line art at least to be relatively cohesive for each scene? and im worried that it'll change too much if i do smaller segments)
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vixvigil · 1 year
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Part 2 in the reblogs 💖
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seryotonin · 2 months
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lesbians are so awesome I wish they were real
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erabu-san · 28 days
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I enjoyed every second of this quest
[This art has platonic intention. Thank you for not tag ship!]
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canisonicscrewyou · 1 year
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florencemtrash · 1 month
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He Feels Safe With You — Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel's sleeping habits begin to worry you, but after a conversation with Cassian, you realize you've misinterpreted the entire situation.
Warnings: Major fluff. Like tooth-rotting sweetness. Sleepy Az.
Author's note: I should be sleeping because I have work tomorrow but instead I've chosen to write this oneshot and I have no regrets.
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It was starting to become a problem now. 
You cocked your head to the side, cradling a cup of tea in your hands and watching Azriel as he continued to sleep soundly in your bed. You had the windows cracked open and the early Autumn breeze swirled indoors with the scent of lavender, bergamot, and the strawberry jam you’d slathered over your toast. You checked the time once again on the glossy marble clock face. The arrow-shaped hour hand clicked ever closer to 11am, the minute hand close to overtaking its competitor. 
10:55am and Azriel was still asleep. 
The sheets clustered loose and low around his waist, mimicking the curling of his shadows up and down the ridges of his spine and across the delicate membrane of his wings. His wings hung loose and relaxed, stretching off the edges of your bed and caressing the floor with a lover’s touch. You blushed at the sight. When you and Azriel had first started courting each other three years ago, you’d thought through the mechanics of housing an Illyrian warrior in your bed — should you buy a new bed frame and mattress? Did you even have space for it in your apartment? The answer had been no to both, and yet Azriel loved when your daytime activities ended here instead of at the townhouse. If he cared about having to walk sideways to avoid the bookshelves in the halls or having to crouch to avoid the overhang above the staircase, he didn’t mention it. 
Three hours ago you’d woken up beneath the gentle weight of his wings, untangled yourself from Azriel’s greedy limbs, and crept down the stairs to your kitchen, bleary eyed but well rested. But that was three hours ago! Since then you’d brushed your teeth, washed your face, and eaten breakfast, and still the Shadowsinger hadn’t stirred. You were beginning to question whether he truly was the Spymaster of the Night Court as you sat in your velvet chair and admired your lover. You traced all the subtle movements of his body as he muddled through dreams you could only wonder at — the creasing of his brow, the slack line of his lips as he breathed, the twitching of his fingertips as he reached for some phantom object. 
The clock struck eleven and you sighed, gathering your plates but leaving Azriel’s pile of toast, butter, and honey alone. You also left the teapot and its mismatched cup, blowing magic over its lid in a silent command to keep its contents hot until Azriel awoke. 
“I’ll be down in the shop,” you whispered to his shadows, trusting that they would relay the message when their master finally decided to grace the daytime with his presence. 
One by one, shadows slipped off Azriel’s skin, curling around your ankles and wrists in a silent plea to stay. You shook them off like one might a needy child, promising you’d only be two floors down. 
The artists’ corner in Velaris was an eclectic array of compact townhouses, each outwardly dressed in their unique, dazzling finery. Your townhouse was squished between a painting studio and a luthier’s. The painting studio’s owner seemed intent on changing the color of the wooden sidings every other day and the drawings scribbled over the windows every other week. Today it was periwinkle blue to match the hydrangeas overflowing from the window boxes. 
You nodded in approval as you flipped the apothecary sign over from “Much apologies, please try another time” to “You’ve caught us! We’re open!” The blue would match your tulip yellow sidings and the clean white accents of the luthier’s. Last week it had been red and that had looked gods-awful. 
You busied yourself in the shop, crushing up lavender and herbs and boiling mugwort in fire-stained glassware in between flurries of customers until the medicinal stench in the air grew thick and strong. You were used to it by now. It smelled clean. Like home. 
You were finishing tying up a bundle of teabags when Cassian came in carrying a sturdy wooden box under one arm like it weighed five pounds instead of fifty. You snapped out the wrinkles of a cloth bag, dropping the teabags and five vials of sleep serum for the nightingale-winged nymph in front of you. 
“Four feathers and three strands of hair, as we bargained for,” you said, sliding the bag across the counter. 
The nymph nodded in approval, extending out a wing and shoving her fingers into the pillowy softness. She tested for loose feathers ready to pull.
“You’re a godsend, Y/n, has anyone ever told you that?” She pulled out three feathers, closed her wing, and started testing the feathers on the other side. “Finnigan’s was asking me for ten. Ten! Can you believe that? If I hadn’t found you in time I’d have been reduced to a plucked chicken.” She was much less precious about her mousey brown hair and yanked out three strands at random. “Oops, you get an extra strand today,” she sang, dropping the feathers and hair into the jars you held out. 
“Well it’s a good thing you found me then, Moricka.” 
“Honestly! I understand he’s got a large studio space he’s renting in the thick of the Palace, and even I will admit the ambiance is rather professional—” 
Cassian raised his brow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his scarred lips as he continued to stand motionless in the doorway. It was true your space was more… homey than Finnigan’s, but your expertise shined in intimate spaces. You liked the control and the familiarity that came from running a smaller business and you wouldn’t give it up for the world. 
“But I do think the success is getting to his head. You both studied under Lady Madja so I don’t see why—” 
You nodded absentmindedly. It was always like this with Moricka. The songbird in her made it difficult for her to stop talking, but at least her voice was pleasant. 
She threw her hands up in the air before finally catching wind of another presence in the room. Cassian waved at her with a wink and an orange blush creeped onto her full cheeks. He tended to have that effect on fae with his towering size and the wild beauty of his chiseled jaw and smattering of scars over his cheeks and brow. 
“Oh… oh dear, I didn’t realize you had another customer. Oh my goodness I’ve been talking your ear off all this time and you’ve been too kind to say anything. You’re a godsend, Y/n. A godsend! I don’t know what I would do without you, although I should really be letting you go now.” She grabbed her things and sidestepped the range of Cassian’s wings, trying and failing now to gawk. “I’ll see you soon enough again I’m sure.” 
“I’ll be here.” You sighed in relief when the doorbell rang behind her petite frame, the inoffensive smile you offered all your customers sliding off your face like oil on water. Cassian chuckled, dropping the box onto the countertop with a dull thud. 
“Long day?” 
You pulled out a stepstool and began rummaging around through the box, pulling out jars of squid ink, bark trimmings, buttons, and one particularly nasty jar containing a large eye suspended in yellow goo. “It’s not even three.” 
“Did I stutter?”
You tapped the glass and the eye swiveled around to look at you, pupil enlarging and constricting with a stutter. “Yes, yes very good,” you muttered your praise and Cassian fought hard not to shiver. He had a stomach for a great many things, but some of the specimens you handled tested his resilience.
“Thank you for bringing all of this. You’ve saved me a great deal of trouble.” 
“Perhaps you could do the same for me and tell me where my brother is? I’ve been looking for him all day.” Cassian leaned forward on the counter, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Are you holding him hostage, Y/n? Are you using your feminine powers to bring the poor male to his knees? I must admit, I didn’t imagine you as the kind capable of kidnapping. Or shadow-napping, shall we say?”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m hardly holding him hostage.” You gestured down the hallway past the bookshelves and the cases of empty glassware where the light from the staircase glowed like an iron eye. “He’s upstairs sleeping.” 
Cassian furrowed his brows, stepping around and past you. He kept his wings tucked closer to his shoulder blades, careful not to upset the cramped organization you maintained in your shop. 
He smirked. “Still? Are you sure you didn't work your feminine powers last night?” 
You glanced out the store window. A few fae lingered outside the coffee shop across the street clutching takeaway boxes against their chest as they chatted and sipped their drinks. The street was otherwise empty. For now, you wouldn’t have to deal with any customers. 
You looked back at Cassian. “I actually wanted to ask you about that.”
His brows furrowed. “About feminine powers?” He'd meant that as a joke.
“Gods, Cassian let that go.” You wrung your hands. “I wanted to ask if Azriel was alright? Has he seemed… normal to you?”
“I don’t know, has he?” Cassian lowered his voice, sinking into one of the stools by the clear glass medicine cabinet. “From what I can tell he seems well. Happy.” 
Although happy was an understatement. Ever since you’d stumbled into their lives with Madja’s accolades and your wry humor, Azriel had been a goner. You’d pulled emotions from him as deftly as a spinster with a pile of wool, reduced him to a reverential, lovesick mess, and imbued his existence with a color not even Feyre could mix up. Which made it all the more confusing why you looked so nervous.
“You’ve seen more of him than I have, Y/n.” Cassian said. He braced his elbows against his knees, turning serious. The faint bags under his hazel eyes hinted at sleepless nights spent fussing over Neera. It was their fault really, any daughter of Nesta and Cassian was destined to be restless and particular.
“He just… he’s been sleeping more. Falling into bed early, but waking up late. Sometimes we’ll be reading together or just existing side by side and when I turn to face him, he’s dead asleep on the couch.” 
Cassian’s lips twitched, slowly stretching into a smile. You plucked a hemp bag off one of the wall shelves at random, tossing its contents into a mortar and beginning to grind just so you could have something to do with your hands. 
“At first I brushed it off, but it’s gotten to a point where I’ll be talking to him — mindless things, but regardless — and I’ll catch him dozing off. He’s always very apologetic after but I…” The mortar and pestle clattered to a stop. “I worry that he’s growing bored of me. Or that he’s sick in a way I can’t help.” 
“Y/n.” There was a smile in Cassian’s voice, and indeed when you looked at him, his teeth were glistening in the soft afternoon haze. His eyes shined knowingly, as if the answer were obvious.
You paused. “Yes?”
“He feels safe with you.” 
You blinked once. Twice. 
“Pardon?” 
Cassian tipped back in his seat, knocking his head against the cabinet with a rattle of jars and glass as he laughed. “He’s sleeping so much because he feels safe with you. It’s probably why he prefers to spend time here instead of at the townhouse and why he’s still dead asleep while we’re sitting here gossiping about him. Three years ago you couldn’t even whisper his name in a crowded room without him appearing from the shadows as if summoned.” 
You felt heat rise in your cheeks. “Oh... I see.” 
Cassian was grinning. “Y/n, I promise you he’s not bored of you. Azriel sleeping is a good thing. The gods know he could use more rest. I think he might be the worst of us when it comes to taking care of ourselves.” 
Something about Cassian’s words had a crack splintering in your chest. You knew about his past. You knew of the horrors burned into the ruined skin of his hands and the weight his duties deposited on his shoulders.
And here you’d been worried over him sleeping past noon. 
Shadows slipped down the stairs, pooling around your feet in a neat circle and kissing the exposed skin of your ankles. Azriel followed closely behind, still wearing his rumpled hair and pants and a shirt he’d hastily shoved his neck and arms into. He hadn’t even buttoned up the slits below his wings, opting to let the fabric swing free and loose and expose flashes of skin as he walked. 
He jutted his chin out in acknowledgement of Cassian and then folded himself over your back, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and dropping his face into the crook of your neck where he breathed in the scent of lemon and lavender and medicine. 
“You weren’t there when I woke up,” he said, frowning. There was a slur to his words.
“It’s past three, brother.” 
Azriel snapped his head up in surprise, squinting at the window and the afternoon sunlight streaking in. The pale cobblestones shone like they’d been drenched in honey. 
“What?” 
Cassian rolled his eyes, patting Azriel’s back fondly and mussing up your hair before walking towards the door. He flipped the sign from “You’ve caught us! We’re open!” to “Much apologies, please try another time.” 
“Goodnight, you two!" He called from over his back. "Remember we’re meeting at Rhys’s for dinner tonight.” He turned, bracing his arms against the top of the doorway and leaning forward like he meant to share a secret. “8pm sharp. Don’t be too late or we’ll get the wrong idea about what you two are up to.” He winked, then whistled down the street, letting the door close on its own behind him. 
Azriel sighed, going back to nuzzling his face in your neck. He peppered the sensitive skin there with kisses. 
“Will you be coming back upstairs then?” He murmured hopefully. "Now that you're finished with work?"
You bit your lip and decided rather quickly that the world would not end because you closed a few hours early. 
You led him up the stairs, past the kitchen and living room on the second floor, and then up to the third floor — your bedroom. The window was still open, the hustle and bustle of the city and the smell of coffee from across the street wafting in. Steam no longer poured from the lip of the teapot, so you knew Azriel had had something to drink, and where you’d left toast on his plate this morning lay only crumbs. 
Azriel dropped to his knees, untying your laces and helping you out of your boots. Then he straightened and tugged at the belt loops of your trousers, silently asking for permission before unbuttoning them and sliding them off your legs. Your shirt, then his shirt, and then his trousers joined the pile of crumpled clothing on the floor.
He gently pushed you back onto the bed, falling face first after you with a sigh. This was his favorite position to sleep in — you comfortable on your back and him laying with his hips slotted in between your legs and his head resting over your heart. 
You sank your fingers into his velvety, black hair. His hums of satisfaction flowed through your body, lighting every nerve with a comforting buzz. 
“Azriel?” You asked him, before sleep could finally claim him once more. 
“Hmmm?” 
“Do you feel safe with me?” 
He pressed his face further into the soft flesh of your chest, bringing his arms up and around your waist before allowing his wings to do the same. The thin membranes glowed red as hot coals, blocking out the most offensive rays of light from outside. 
“When I am with you, I forget that I was ever that boy whose hands got burned. When I am with you, the hundreds of years I spent feeling alone and worthless in this world melt away into nothing. When I am with you — when I am in this place that smells and feels so strongly of you — I can imagine a future that is good and pure and perfect.” He sighed deeply, seemingly ignorant to the pounding of your heart and the waves of feeling flooding your system. “So yes, my love — my Y/n — I do feel safe with you.”
“I feel safe with you too,” you murmured. “I love you, Azriel.” 
You kissed the crown of his head, earning one last smile and a slurred, “I love you, Y/n,” before his jaw went slack and the room went silent save for the mixing of your breaths and the stirring of shadows.
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enderscribbles · 5 months
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Dunmeshi request, Chilchuck and Marcille interacting? 🥺 Or standing next to each other that works too. Could be hugging, or sharing a meal/food, or…
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Got a bit out of hand with the prompt XD I ended up doing a scene inspired by this fic! Based on that time Marcille Izutsumi and Chilchuck were sharing a bed in chapter 47. It felt very memorable so I tried to recreate it but I kind of went offscript because I was basing it on my recollection of the fic lmao
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^Obsessed with this guy and how he lets Izutsumi use him like a hot water bottle bc it's comfier.
I think he'd hardly ever act this soft + tolerant of physical affection unless it's situations like this: When the others are too sleepy to remember it LOL
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FNAF game Vanessa is starting to control Glitchtrap,,
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bacchuschucklefuck · 14 days
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soon it'll be dawn again
transcript under the cut ⏬
page 01
Fig: no way? - you're still up?
Riz: Wh– yes?
Riz: Why'd I not be.
page 02
Fig: I me~~ean - that took.
Fig: whole day.
Riz: Yeah?
Fig: 'm beat.
Riz: you should sleep.
page 03
Fig: nah. my guy's still up
Fig: I wanna hang out.
page 04
Riz: That's really nice.
Fig: Hah! - Nobody ever expects an Archdevil rockstar to be nice.
Riz: … yeah. - 's just budget work tho. (the stuff I'm working on) - I've heard it's boring.
page 05
Fig: yeah, but you do it…
Riz: It keeps things going, right? - Nothing happens if nobody sits down and - does the thing.
Fig: That's right… - though. Yeah.
page 06
Fig: sometimes it's someone else who - doesn't want the same thing to happen.
Riz: … - mm.
page 07
Riz (off screen): …It took me a long time to get that not everyone likes doing what I do. - 's probably because you guys are so nice– - or. - kind.
Riz (off screen): to anyone too, not just. - the people you /love/.
page 08
Riz: that's not how it is elsewhere. - The world's– not. hostile. - but 's not like it's kind.
Riz: So I'm doing as much as I can now… 
page 09
Fig: Hey.
Riz: ?
Fig: Go dig some dirt with me.
page 10
Riz: [blank speech bubble] - oh you meant like - actual dirt. (not incriminating information)
Fig: o yea.
Fig: there's clay in the backyard soil. - sometimes when I'm sun deficient or something I go touch dirt for a bit.
page 11
Fig: here u go
page 12
Riz: uh
Fig: now we make a thing! - 'm pretty good at freehanding a bowl.
Fig: I'll show u
page 13
Fig: just– yep, flatten that out as evenly as u can, then–! - actually ur nails'd be so good at cutting out the strip. [larger than usual space] wait. - wait. wait u can carve patterns with them! we HAVE to try
Riz: uh - What. do I carve?
Fig: anything!!!
page 14
Fig: and– yep just seal the inside uh. seam?
Fig: yep that works - okay time's up! all contestant hands up
Riz: [blank speech bubble] - okay - wh. what's next?
Fig: haha - watch this.
(sound effect text): FWOO—MP
page 15
Riz: WH– DON'T JUST DO THAT???
Fig: Now it's fired!
Riz: THAT WAS NOT SAFE
Fig: (actually it's just dry. if u add water rn it'll dissolve)
Fig: ok catch!
Riz: [blank speech bubble] - careful!!
Fig: dw no need haha
page 16
Riz (thought bubble): oh - it's warm…
Fig: now I want you to throw this.
page 17
Fig: u gotta do it - c'mon
page 18
Riz: wh– - It's like 3AM right now
Fig: oh it's not /fired/ fired it's not gonna make a loud noise
Riz: And then just? leave a pile out here?
Fig: pour water over it & it'll be gone I told u
Riz: but
page 19
Fig (off screen): RIz.
page 20
Fig: I've done all this before.
Fig: Can you trust that at least?
page 21
Riz: no, I– - I do. - I trust you.
page 23
Riz: okay what happens now
(sound effect text): glob
page 24
Fig: we do it again!
page 25
Riz: wh. [larger than usual space] What do you mean. (this clay's too wet also)
Fig: see! you're already learning
Fig: [blank speech bubble] - there are flows that are futile to fight. - The world changes.
Fig: Things change.
page 26
Fig: I've learned my lessons with "forevers". - But - as an artist
Fig: I can give you one thing: - You can always do it again.
page 27
Fig: most of everything depends on the rest of the world, - but this. - making new. - that's yours as long as you want it.
page 28
Fig: So?
page 29
Riz: Yeah. - Yeah! - let's make another one.
#dimension 20#fantasy high junior year#fhjy#riz gukgak#figueroth faeth#technically no spoilers in this comic but listen. I Will be gloating in tags. I will Never Shut Up#for the record!! this was fully conceptualized and sketched Before the finales. I started sketching this after the boat fight#and when murph closed riz's arc this season with ''maybe it's okay to change and welcome new things'' I pogged irl#I am simply the best at reading comprehension what can I say! (<- grown ass man with roughly the same perspective on teenhood as the player#fucked up that this became so long (almost 30 squares lol) that it took me this long to finish#lmao I say all that but. genuinely I am delirious and my feelings abt riz's arc this season are so big... I was getting psychic backlash#for a While lol. it was scary!!#had to sit down and do therapy on my own ass for a bit. the teenage apocalyticisation is real. that word isnt tho Im pretty sure#truly anything you do at that age feels like that's it that's all you've got going on forever. and its not true! its simply not true#you'll be okay my guy. you love your friends so so much but also there will be more to love out there#this one goes out to fellow aroaces and also folks leaving somewhere theyve called home for a long time#nothing lasts forever but that means new things come by too! ur ability to make new is infinite!!#there's no magnum opus people leave but new people come by too etc. I am too sleepy to remember what I wanted to say uhhh#well. thank u for looking at my art. I think thats the one pack it n ship it boys
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museaway · 2 months
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✍️ more fic writer asks!
reblog & your followers can send asks with the questions they’d like you to answer!
the last sentence you wrote
a character whose POV you’re currently exploring
how you feel about your current WIP
a story idea you haven’t written yet
first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP
the word that appears the most in your current draft (wordcounter.net can tell you)
your preferred writing fonts
if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…
start to finish, how long did it take you to write the last fic you posted?
what is the longest amount of time you’ve let a draft rest before you finished it?
a WIP you’d like to finish someday
a trope you’re really into right now
a fandom you’re thinking about writing for
where do you get your inspiration?
favorite weather for writing
favorite place to write
talk about your writing and editing process
if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic
the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic
in what year did you publish your first fic?
when did you publish your most recent fic?
do you ever worry about public reaction to what you’re writing? how do you get past that?
pick three keywords that describe your writing
how do you recharge when you’re not feeling creative?
besides writing, what are your other hobbies?
are you able to write with other people around?
your favorite part of the writing process
your least favorite part of the writing process
how easy is it for you to come up with titles?
share a fic you’re especially proud of
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kedreeva · 9 months
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You can hear this bread. One second I'll show you. Please listen to my bread
This is a loaf of asiago chunk sourdough. Inside there are chunks of asiago. The dough was mixed with mashed garlic as well. The sound in the video is the cheese bubbling in the interior, echoing in the air pockets of the loaf. I'm going to eat the shit out of this for breakfast tomorrow.
This is the world's easiest sourdough loaf too, with only 6 hours total rising/proofing time!
Ingredients:
455g white bread flour
1 tsp sea salt
285g warm water
100g active, bubbly starter
120g Asiago cheese
(optional) crushed garlic to taste (I use about 2 cloves worth and it's a lot)
Asiago chunk sourdough bread
Cut asiago into smallish chunks
Combine flour and salt in one bowl
Combine starter and water in another bowl, stir until starter is dissolved.
Mix flour into the wet mixture until a dough begins to form. Knead on a well-floured surface until dough is smooth.
Mix in cheese (and garlic) until well incorporated
Dust rising bowl (solid! Not a basket!) with flour. Let dough rise 1 hour in warm spot, covered with plastic wrap
Fold over around the edges, place back in bowl seal-side down for 1 more hour
Repeat folding over around the edges, place back in bowl seal-side down for 1 more hour (3 total rising hours to here)
Shape dough into round if not, and place into proofing basket for 3 hours. Toward the end of this, preheat oven to 450F, with the cast iron pot so it's HOT when you add the dough.
Dump your dough onto your kneading board, fold over around the edges one more time, slice the top DEEPLY.
Bake 30 minutes seam-side down in covered cast iron pot at 450F. Remove lid, bake for another 30-40 minutes with lid off. (Cook time may vary on location and oven... MY OVEN takes this long. I just baked a loaf at a friend's that baked WAY differently, it was done in about 40 minutes total)
Remove and let cool completely before slicing. You can freeze it but slice it first.
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mikufanclub · 3 months
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some reis
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erabu-san · 28 days
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I enjoyed every second of this quest This art has platonic intention, please don't tag ship
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lousysharkbutt · 2 years
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ship dynamic
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ewwww-what · 3 months
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Average fig post on crystalbook or whatever they call it
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