this is from big easy express

optanicalgarden  asked:

artist ask meme - 2, 4 and 6

2. who is your favorite character to draw?

probably an obvious answer but. its law, it’s easy to express emotions w him. aside from law tho, i find myself drawing luffy a lot when im happy, n a lot of my vent art is centered around corazon

4. how often do you draw?

aside from sleeping, i probably at least doodle Something once every 4 hours

6. tag your favorite artists/inspirations!

i wont be tagging any of them bc im shy but

i love goombaprince’s one piece art, their lineart is rlly crisp and their poses are super expressive

trelldraws is a big inspiration to me as well ! esp the stuff related to law

lizoni’s art is also fantastic, the amount of details in her paintings is amazing

7. do you prefer sketching, outlining, or coloring?

i like sketching the most, followed by colouring then outlining

i feel like my sketches are the most expressive, and for me, a lot times outlining kinda kills the “heart” of the original sketch? its why i always skip lineart and just work on making my sketches neat enough to colour

There are Pokémon everywhere!

Prompt by @insideimfeelinpurrdy

Bellarke | Rated: E | 2,241 words | Ao3 (Updated 21/09/16)

“You have got to be kidding me!”


“Do you have to have your phone out all the time?” Bellamy was past slightly amused and full-on annoyed now.

“Yes. There are Pokémon here.” Clarke looked back at Bellamy with a deadpan expression.

They walked together from the university and back to the Blakes’ apartment every Wednesday when Octavia hosted their group’s weekly movie night. It was a time they’d both come to love. Bellamy could get Clarke’s full attention for once, which in a big group like theirs that wasn’t always easy, and Clarke could get whatever frustrations she had about her art class off her chest.

But this week something had happened to most of Bellamy’s peers. He’d had seen it all over campus. From one day to the next it was everywhere. It’s not like people didn’t have their noses deep in their phones before, but now it was all the freakin’ time.

“There are Pokémon everywhere, Clarke.”

“I know! And I need to catch ‘em all!”

Bellamy’s jaw twitched as he tried to hold back. He didn’t want to argue with Clarke, not when this was their time, but he had to say something.

“It’s for children.”

“You’re too old to understand, Bellamy.”

“I’m not that much older than you.

“But apparently old enough. Pokémon came out when I was a kid. I watched the show, had the trading cards, played the Game Boy games. I had a Jigglypuff plushie! And now I actually get to catch Pokémon!” Clarke’s voice had raised during her small speech, partly due to frustration and partly due to excitement.

“But you aren’t actually catching anything. They’re just on your phone.”

“That doesn’t matter! It’s a game and games are fun. And it doesn’t only attract kids. It also attracts all the people who were kids in the late 90s and the first few years of the 2000s. Didn’t Octavia like Pokémon?”

Clarke’s last sentence almost sounded accusatory, but then, as if on cue, Clarke’s phone buzzed and she stopped walking. She squealed, turned sharply to the left, raised her phone, and started prodding at her screen.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“It’s a Staryu, Bell! I don’t have a Staryu yet! Misty had a Staryu!”

“Who’s Misty?”

Clarke let out a slightly theatrical sigh before replying slowly as if speaking to a child, “Misty was one of the characters from the show.”

The walk back to the apartment took twice as long as usual.

“Did your phone die?” Bellamy can’t help the small smirk as he sees Clarke sitting on his couch without the phone in front of her face.

Just to his luck, it turned out the decorative facade of his building meant his apartment was right on top of a Pokéstop, which in turn meant Clarke would be on her phone constantly whenever she was over.

But not now. Now she was reading. He moved over to her and sat down next to her.

“The servers crashed. I think they’re trying to launch the game in Europe or something.”

Bellamy nodded slightly, but couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. Maybe he could get some of that Clarke quality time that had been long overdue.

“Wanna watch Netflix?”

“Sure. But I wanna pick.”

“Forget it.”

Bellamy hadn’t realised how much he’d missed wrestling Clarke for the remote, how much he’d missed her body pressed against his on the couch as she stretched against him to grab the remote out of his hand.

Someone is pounding on Bellamy’s door at 9pm. He just about hears it over the sound of the shower. He was going to ignore it, but whoever it is is persistent.

He turns the water off and quickly wraps a small towel around his waist, planning on hiding behind the door while he gets rid of who the hell is knocking on his door at 9 like it’s a matter of life and death.

When he gets into the living room he hears the occasional “Bellamy!”. It’s Clarke. He freezes for a second, now fully aware of the fact that his chest is still dripping wet and the towel he picked in his hurry just about covers him.

The next “Bellamy!” gets him out of head and back into the living room. He approaches the door, and positions himself slightly behind the door as he unlocks it, opens it slightly, and pokes head out.

Before Bellamy has time to react, he’s pushed aside and Clarke is stomping in. In his attempt to not lose his balance and to hurry closing the door again, Bellamy loses his towel.

He’s in disbelief as he looks up at Clarke, her phone pointed towards him. Is she filming him naked?

“Clarke! What the hell!”

Clarke now moves the phone around and he knows that look on her face. He’s seen it too many times now.

“It’s in here. It’s in here somewhe- There!”

“God damn it, Clarke. You can’t just do that!” Bellamy says as he wraps the small towel around himself again.

“It’s a freaking Pikachu, Bellamy! You don’t understand.”

“You’re right, I don’t understand.”

He’s stomping over to her, fully determined to take that awful phone out of her hand and throw it across the room, but just as he’s within her reach, she looks up from her phone with the most radiant of smiles.

“I got him, Bell!”

Her eyes are big and bright, her smile wide and genuine.

Bellamy’s own expression softens and he falters. He loves seeing Clarke happy, but he’s already grabbing her wrist, her chest only inches from his and he stares down at her.

But that’s when her eyes refocus and rakes over him for a moment. She wets her lips as her eyes take in his glistening chest. Then her eyes widen and a deep blush spreads over her cheeks.

Neither of them move, both afraid to break the spell.

Clarke gathers courage and looks back up at Bellamy, his eyes so intensely focused on hers.

“Bellamy,” she says, barely above a whisper. Her eyes dart down to his lips and she wets her own.

Bellamy doesn’t know where his courage comes from. A small voice in the back of his head is saying Clarke. Your extra courage always comes from Clarke.

He has always been too afraid to act on his impulses, to act on his feelings, even when they’ve been grinding on the dance floor of the club Octavia has dragged their group to or when they’ve been alone and she’s been pressed up against his side on the sofa.

But now. Now it’s different. Clarke is looking at his lips, her breathing is picking up, her pupils are dilating. She wants this too.

Before he can change his mind, Bellamy swoops in to kiss her, but pauses just before his lips touches hers. His eyes dart between hers, this is her last chance to back away from him, to let him down easy. She doesn’t move. Not at first. But the next moment she’s the one who’s leaning into him, kissing him hard and passionately.

Her hands goes up to his shoulders, squeezing the wet muscles under her fingers. He wraps his arms around her firmly and lifts her slightly off the floor as he moves her to the nearest wall and pins her against it.

Their movements are bordering frantic, both worried the other will regret it after or even worse, regret it before it’s even happening. They don’t know that this is exactly what they’ve both been waiting for for so long.

Clarke has never been happier about wearing a plaid shirt; she unbuttons it with steady, but hurried, hands without having to push Bellamy away for even a moment to get her head out of the shirt.

Bellamy’s towel has long been forgotten, bundled on the floor somewhere behind them ever since Bellamy picked Clarke up. Clarke is the only one wearing any clothes, but they’re both very keen on removing them. And fast.

It’s not long before Clarke’s jeans have been kicked off and her breasts are covered by Bellamy’s mouth instead of her bra.

His hands are roaming over her waist, down her ass, under her thighs until he lifts her up and pins her harder against the wall, naked flesh on naked flesh this time.

She’s wet against his hard cock and it’s mind blowing. Clarke; naked for him, wet for him, grinding against him. If this is a dream he doesn’t want to wake up.

He’s kissing his way back up her neck when he hears his name fall from her lips like a moan. He presses harder against her, kisses his way to her mouth faster.

Her fingers are grabbing on tight to his long, messy hair. She’s guiding his head back up, guiding his lips back to hers.

It almost takes all Bellamy’s willpower to break away from Clarke’s lips again. It takes the last bit of his willpower to say, “We should move to the bedroom. My condoms are in there.”

“I’m on the pill. And I’m clean.”

“I haven’t been tested in a while.”

Bellamy leaves no room for argument. He’s made up his mind. He grabs her tighter around her waist with one arm and holds her thigh high in his hip with one large hand.

Before Clarke can even try to protest he kisses her again and doesn’t stop until he’s laid her gently down on his bed.

When Bellamy’s leaning over the side of the bed to find a condom in the bed stand drawer, Clarke is looking up at him with a slightly dazed expression; an odd mix between wonder, lust, and love.

As soon as Bellamy has dislodged a condom from the rest of the pack, Clarke pulls him back down to her, already missing his lips on her.

When she’s satisfied with the way his tongue moves over her lips and over her tongue again, she moves a hand down his side, over his thigh, and grabs on to his cock.

She drinks in his moan, savours the taste of it on her tongue. She could easily get drunk on it. Maybe she already is.

She has only moved her hand over his erection a couple of time when Bellamy gently pushes her hand away to roll on the condom.

Both her hands are on his neck, holding him close. Bellamy has an arm braced by the side of Clarke’s head as he guides himself into her. Their eyes are locked for as long as possible, until they both have to close them in pleasure.

She’s so wet around him, it’s mind numbing.

Bellamy moves slow at first. He’s gentle, afraid to hurt Clarke in any way, but also afraid he won’t be able to last long in her slick heat.

When Clarke moves faster against him and drags him down for another kiss, he begins to move faster himself. While his one arm is still braced by the side of her head, the hand of his other arm is holding on tight to Clarke’s hip, holding her firmly to the mattress.

Her moans and his grunt are filling the room with a delicious sound, but a sound neither of them are paying much attention to in their current state. They’re both chasing their peak now, while also trying to ensure the other reaches theirs.

Clarke’s nails are sharp against Bellamy’s shoulder blades, Bellamy’s teeth are hard against the juncture of Clarke’s neck. They’ll both have marks in the morning.

“Clarke… Clark-” Her name comes out of Bellamy’s mouth first as a moan and then something close to a choking sound and he tried to hold back. He’s close now, and Clarke can tell.

“Yes, Bell! Mmm… Yes! So close… Bellamy… Bellamy!”

Bellamy doesn’t know how the sound of his name from her mouth like that can both push him closer to the edge and ground him at the same time, but it helps him to keep going. She’s almost there and he wants her with him.

He lifts his head from her neck and looks at her again. He’s never seen her more beautiful. Her hair’s a mess on his pillow, her lips are the prettiest shade of pink, and her eyes are intent on his and filled with the tale of her pleasure.

When they lock eyes she begins to come around him, her core squeezing him hard and soft and wet and he can’t remember ever having felt like this before.

He fights to keep him eyes open and when he loses the battle he kisses her instead. It’s sloppy and soft and they’re both breathing hard and moaning through it, but it’s absolutely perfect.

The condom is disposed of and she’s resting on his chest when they hear the unmistakable sound of a Pokémon appearing on Clarke’s phone in the living room.

Bellamy freezes. He really doesn’t want her to go chasing after Pokémon right this moment. He just wants to hold her and bask in the glow of finally having kissed her, touched her, made her come.

Clarke feels his reaction, but only nuzzles in closer instead of running off to the next room as he was fearing.

“It’s fine, Bell. I already have my Pikachu,” she says and kisses his shoulder.

Something about the way she says it makes him question whether she means the yellow mouse or him.

Please leave kudos and a comment on Ao3!

It is, as they say, time to put away childish things. Or as I sometimes say, put on the big boy pants. So much can come so quickly from this and if you act as if you are in the midst of building your future, the world will unfold in wondrous ways and bury you in promises you never dreamed of. Be equal to the path you have chosen.
—  the late, incredible David Carr, in an email to his daughter Erin in 2010. From a deeply moving essay that could not have been easy to express. Thank you, Erin.