@thememime first of all THANK u for enjoying my claw paws i love drawin them oh so much
now let me think,, how do i actually,,,,,,…..draw them….,, ,
hmmmmmm uuuhhhhhhhhhh uuuuuuhhhhhhhhhh
ok to tell u the truth when i draw the claw paws its 100% muscle memory after drawing my dragon oc on every sheet of paper i came into contact with in high school, so actually thinkin abt the process is like ?? uhmmmmhhh well you squiggle it uuh
its not exactly a science i guess, and in retrospect its probably an anatomical bastardization, but i just go with what feels right bro. its kind of like a pattern or a rhythm.
i generally stick with three distinct knobs, a knuckle, another one, and another one after that second one. otherwise its about your line of action and where u want to pull the weight. oh! and i like to let the claws act as an extension of the hand, i give them bulk and weight as well, and they sorta flop around wherever they feel like goin
and of course there are 8,109,553,449 variations in how ya wanna stylize based on the exaggeration of your curves and angles, also by adding knobby joints and wrinkles! wrinkles are fun
but idk man. tbh ive just been kinda bullshitting it the entire time. please dont slap me with pizza dough
Hi :] I followed you recently, and I'm glad I did. I like your Bucky cuddle drabbles, and I think you're really talented. If it's not too much trouble, could you maybe do a headcannon for dating pre-serum Steve? Thanks 💜
Thank you, love! You’re too sweet <3 I hope you like this. (I don’t think headcanons are supposed to be nearly 2k but oops my hands slipped. Thanks to @sarahwroteathing for being an angel and always helping me with everything.)
Dating pre-serum Steve
It started off a little weird. Steve’s been your best friend since you met him. But he was laughing really hard at something you said–so hard he had tears in his eyes. Something bubbled up in you, and you leaned in real close and stole a quick kiss from his plush lips.
He stops immediately. Well, that’s new. He’s looking at you with those deep blue eyes, waiting for an answer…but you don’t have one. It was an impulse. Why had you done that?
Steve licks his bottom lip subconsciously and scoots close to you, going slowly so you have a chance to tell him if you don’t want this. But you suddenly realize you do–you want him with every fibre of your being. His kiss is hesitant, still waiting for you to push him away. After the initial shock of the situation, you kiss him back more surely.
He shows you off all the time.
On your first date, Steve takes you dancing because that’s what he’s supposed to do, right? That’s what Bucky does with all the dames he takes out. Despite all the practicing he and Bucky do before your date, Steve is so self conscious. He doesn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of you. But, you see him fumbling as he shoots you shy, nervous smiles when he misses a step. Your heart swells with affection for him as you decide to pretend to be equally hopeless. You trip over his foot a couple times, go for a spin when there clearly wasn’t a call for one. Steve loosens up as you both make up outrageous dance moves for the ones that can’t be done.
Bucky gets wind of it and refuses to go on a double date with this trainwreck of a couple until you get some dance lessons.
Bucky insists to teach you both himself in the boys’ apartment. He’s moved the furniture around to accommodate a dancefloor. You’re a pretty decent dancer, truth be told; but you keep up appearances for Steve’s sake. That, and it’s actually a lot more fun to botch dance moves with Bucky than you would have initially thought. The teasing was well worth hearing your man laugh until he couldn’t breathe. Literally. Poor baby agitated his Asthma more while laughing with you and Bucky than anything else.
Steve will realize one day that he’s still talking to you like you’re just his best friend Y/N. He gets a bit self conscious about it, and is determined to treat you more like a lady. You’re his girl, after all, and you should be treated like a queen. He stutters ‘more appropriate’ compliments out, blushing as soon as he sees the questioning look on your face. When you ask him what’s going on, he tells you that he’s trying to treat you like a girlfriend. You giggle, kissing his cheek and making him blush again. “You don’t have to worry about that, Stevie. I fell for you because you were my friend.”
Steve compliments you all the time. His goal is to make you blush at least once a day. Some days, though, it gets to be too much and you have to kiss him just to shut him up.
Just because Steve is you boyfriend now, doesn’t mean you don’t still hang out like you did before. You, Steve, and Bucky still go down to the creek and skip rocks together. You all still go to the railroad and have adventures in your abandoned railway car. Just because you and Steve steal kisses when you think Bucky isn’t looking, doesn’t change that the three of you are still best friends.
His notebooks are full of sketches and doodles of you, of your individual features. There’s a lot of your eyes, of your smile…conveying every emotion between the nose scrunch you do when he compliments you, to the little frown that pulls at your lips when Bucky says something unsavory (it doesn’t happen often, Bucky’s usually a gentleman around you), to the dreamy look you get in your eyes when you see a mother pushing her baby in a stroller.
One day, Steve is so caught up in watching you as you watch kids play at the park. “I’m gonna marry you.” He blurts it out with such sincerity, he blushes deeply. You just smile at him coyly. A sweet laugh falls from your lips and it makes Steve tumble further into the void. You spend the rest of the day proposing to Steve in crazy ways while he laughs, “Shaddup, Dollface.”
When he gets sick during the winter after his mom passes, you refuse to leave his side. He tells you that you’re gonna get sick, too, if you keep hanging around him; but, you don’t care. You and Bucky get scared for a couple of days. You both think it could be a possibility that this is the illness that will finally claim Steve’s life. But the little runt always proves you both wrong.
Steve’s such a sap about it. “I only made it because you stayed with me. I guess I have to marry you, now. You’re the only thing keeping me alive.” You’re so relieved that you’re crying and laughing so hard you have to bury your face in his chest. When you finally calm down, you place a delicate kiss on his forehead and smile fondly at him. “You’re darn right you do, you chucklehead.”
Steve’s gotten into less fights being with you. You’re so in sync with him that you know what makes his blood boil. His righteousness has bled into your being, and you can’t help but mouth off to any bully that you two come across. Even when they continue with their wrongdoing, you refuse to back down until they stalk off with their tail between their legs. Steve always goes a little starry eyed when this happens.
When the war breaks out, you know Steve will want to enlist and it makes your stomach churn uncomfortably. You always hope and pray that he’ll get denied, and you’ll thank whatever deity was listening when he comes back with a sullen look on his face and rejection paper in his hand. You tell him that they don’t know what they’re missing out on. He launches into a speech about how he should be out there defending what’s his. He has so much patriotism, it moves you. You only feel a little guilty for being selfish and wanting to keep him home, safe.
When Bucky gets drafted, it’s hard on all of you. Steve tries to enlist again, and he comes home with the biggest grin on his face. Your stomach drops when you see the stamp of approval on his forms, but you smile and hug him because you know this is what he wants. When he lets you go, he looks at you seriously. “I know you’re scared, but they’re giving me a chance. I want to go out there and defend my country..defend my girl.” He brushes your hair away from your face. “And–and, well…” He stutters and fumbles to get something out of his pocket. “I want to know that you’ll still be here when I get back.” He holds a ring between his fingers, your breath leaves you completely. “So, Y/N, will you marry–?”
You don’t give him the opportunity to finish, pressing kiss after kiss to his lips as he slips the ring onto your finger.
When you take him to the train station, he kisses you longingly, knocking the breath out of you. Steve tells you he’ll write as soon as he can. The train starts moving, he almost misses it because he doesn’t want to leave you. As soon as he hops on, he yells, “I love you!” The goofy grin on his face makes you smile through your tears and you stay rooted on the spot until long after the train has left your sight.
Weeks pass and you don’t hear anything from Steve. No letters. No calls. You’re worried. Who wouldn’t be? That is, until you see the propaganda films of Captain America. He looks dreamy. So strong, so sure, so..familiar?
You’re in the middle of a theater when you realize that Captain America is Steve. Your fiancee, Steven Grant Rogers, is Captain America. You nearly pass out from the shock. You immediately go out and buy every paper that has news about Captain America in it.
It’s about four days after that when you finally get a call from him. He sounds so happy, so relieved to hear your voice before you go crazy. You ask him all kinds of questions, hardly waiting for a response before launching into another set of questions. “Doll! Doll!” he calls through the phone when he can hear you’re about to hyperventilate. “I’m okay. Let me tell you what happened.”
And he does. He tells you everything that’s happened since he left five months ago: the experimental procedure, traveling the country to sell bonds, Bucky’s capture, the very unauthorized rescue mission. He tells you that he’s part of a specialized group called the Howling Commandos. You listen, absolutely enraptured until he tells you that he has to go. He tells you he’ll call again soon.
Steve calls you weekly while he’s in the army. His calls become the highlight of your week.
You still collect newspapers with Captain America and the Howling Commandos news.
It’s late September 1945 when Steve and Bucky finally come home. You see Bucky first and launch into his arms, kissing his cheek, telling him how happy you are that he’s home. A throat clears beside you, and your jaw drops at the sight of your fiancee. Yes, you’d seen him in propagandas and newspaper articles, but seeing this new Steve in the flesh was something you’d have to get used to.
His smile is the same, though, and it melts your insides. You release Bucky and slowly make your way over to Steve, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him tightly into your embrace. His face is buried in your neck, strong arms wrapping around you and lifting you from the ground. You’re both so ecstatic that you’re crying. You’re pressing kisses wherever you can reach while he tells you how much he’s missed you, how he’s ready to marry you, start a family with you.
You two wind up going to the courthouse that day with Bucky as your witness and marry your best friend.
v. the city is wilder than you think and kinder than you think
Yessenia drops her head back onto her pillow and closes her eyes. Maybe this is all a dream. This has to be a dream. This is one of those dreams where everything goes perfectly, as it only can in dreams, until something terrible happens, like you look down only to realize you forgot to put on pants this morning, or you step on into a lift just in time for it to plummet to the ground.
Courtesy of The 100 season 4 finale and my own anxieties about season 5
Clarke and Bellamy finally find each other again, but a lot has changed in six years…
As people rushed out of the cells and down the corridor, one prisoner rushed out only to stop. People pushed past as he looked down both ends of the corridor, probably determining the best exit route. Clarke’s heart tried to make its way into her throat. Perhaps that’s why she could barely gasp out his name.
Whether he heard the barely audible breath or his gaze was inextricably drawn to her as it always seemed to be, Bellamy turned, locking eyes with her even as bodies surged past between them. His big brown eyes were wide, freckles standing out against skin paled from the artificial light.
She couldn’t remember who moved first but they were both suddenly hurtling through the crowds, away from the exits, towards each other. Clarke practically launched herself into his arms as Bellamy clutched her to him. She buried her face into his shoulder as he buried his into her hair. She could feel his arms convulse around her—they were definitely bigger, he must’ve been working out, what else would there be to do on the Ark for six years.
Six years. Had it really been that long since she had seen him. Since they had parted on the island; her racing off to the radio tower to send the signal to turn the Ark’s power on so he and Raven and Monty and the others could survive. Of course it had been that long. She had radioed him every day of those six years, never even knowing if the signal had gone through, if he was alive.
But he was. He was right here. With her.
She could feel Bellamy’s heart pounding just as hard as hers. His shirt was damp from the steam billowing out of the pipes but it still smelled like him. Clarke tightened her arms around his neck, gripping her own arms as if locking in, unwilling to let anyone separate them ever again.
It seemed they stayed that way for an eternity before they each loosened their grips, still holding onto each other as if afraid they would vanish should they let go. They pulled away just enough to be able to look at each other; to note the slight changes in their faces from the years apart but how ultimately the same they still looked. Bellamy’s hair was a bit longer, probably unable to cut it while held prisoner, and he had facial hair—not quite a beard yet but a bit too much to be called stubble— that Clarke wasn’t sure about. It made him look older, rougher. It didn’t match his eyes. Those big brown orbs that threw the doors wide on his every emotion no matter how hard he tried to hide it. She was staring into them too long. But then, they tended to do that didn’t they? A slight smile was forming on his lips and Clarke could feel herself beaming even as tears leaked down her face.
“You’re alive,” they whispered simultaneously.
Bellamy grinned and Clarke’s sob turned into a laugh. Bellamy, ever so gently, wiped the tears from her cheek, Clarke nuzzling into his palm. As his hand slowly fell away, it was then that Clarke noticed Monty and Murphy behind him. They stood back a few steps, letting the two reunite. But each had a strange look on their faces as they looked back on the two before turning and scanning the rushing crowd.
Bellamy noticed Clarke’s glance at the others and his face began to fall.
“Bellamy, what is it?”
Still holding onto her arms, Bellamy turned to look back.
Emori and Harper raced out of one of the cells but stopped, waiting by the door. Echo appeared, dragging Raven out with her. Raven was limping slightly still. Emori hastened to help Raven as Harper and Echo scanned the corridor for the men. Harper spotted them and led the rush over, Raven and Emori behind, followed by Echo. Clarke had thought that they had been slowed down by Raven’s leg, but as the women moved towards them, Echo was also slowed by a burden she was carrying. A little girl with dark curls and big eyes was poised on her hip.
Bellamy stiffened and stepped away from Clarke. He almost stepped out of her reach, but Clarke kept a grip on his sleeve.
Harper flew into Monty’s arms while Murphy rushed to kiss Emori before helping her with Raven. Bellamy seemed rooted in place, turned halfway towards the approaching women, almost straining towards them, but something seemed to be holding him back—something besides Clarke’s fist wadded in his sleeve. With Bellamy turned, Raven and Echo now caught sight of Clarke. Something flashed in Raven’s eyes—surprise, relief, joy, and then a look that was eerily familiar. Echo cast a glance to Raven, but otherwise betrayed no emotion, merely adjusting the girl on her hip as they reached the men.
Bellamy looked completely lost. He locked eyes with Raven and a look passed between them that sent a swift pain to Clarke’s chest though she didn’t know why. Or maybe she did know why, she just wouldn’t admit it yet. Bellamy turned back to Clarke, eyes wide, but now fearful. He looked utterly heartbroken. His mouth opened as if to speak, but nothing came out before he glanced back towards Raven and Echo and the girl on her hip.
As Echo approached, the girl surged out of her arms towards Bellamy. He took her from Echo instinctively—the movement looking completely natural. He didn’t even have to think about it as he held her to his chest, her arms latching around his neck as she buried her face into his neck, not entirely unlike what Clarke had done just moments before. Bellamy kissed the top of the girl’s head, squeezing her tight. Raven reached out to stroke the girl’s hair, her hand just lingering on Bellamy’s shoulder before falling back down. The girl then pulled back, Bellamy adjusting her to his hip, and she looked over at Clarke.
“Daddy, who’s that?”
Clarke’s heart in her throat was now choking her.
Raven looked away, Emori rubbing circles on her back comfortingly. Bellamy’s entire body was rigid. He looked like he would shatter at the slightest touch as his watery eyes turned briefly to Clarke as if in apology.
“Clarke,” Bellamy began gruffly, addressing the girl on his hip first before looking back over to the woman he had been forced to leave behind. “This is Clarke.”
They were on their way to the training deck for some group exercises when Shiro caught a glimpse of Keith out of the corner of his eye.
It was an unguarded moment; Keith didn’t seem to realize he was under surveillance. The shadows under his eyes were more pronounced than usual, and the color was gone from his cheeks. A flicker of anxiety caused Shiro to slow his pace. He fell into step with Keith as they walked down the hall.
“You all right?” Shiro asked, as innocently as possible. He didn’t want to seem overbearing. “You look a little tired today…”