#911lonestar

WIP Wednesday

I'm going to be super busy until the end of October, but I'm able to doodle a little in between the chaos at least! Some outfits from this week plus a scrapped idea for this weeks Spooktober prompt.

TK and Carlos sharing a blanket

For @lonestarspooktober's prompt for Week 2: Cozy Nights In

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for tagging me @carlos-in-glasses @carlossreaders @strandnreyes and @paperstorm

I got it together for some Spooktober stuff so hopefully I can post it by Sunday! 😅

Some Doodles Sunday

Something about the weather change making me nostalgic I think. Anyways here are some more doodles from this week.

A little doodle for WIP Wednesday

It's been a while since I've done one of these, but I've been trying to get back into doing more creative stuff. Since I only really have some time to draw so here we are with some drawing practice

"I thought I lost you," Carlos whimpers into the column of TK's throat. TK can feel the way his whole body shakes, can hear the tremour of the metal plates of his armour rattling together like chattering teeth. He pulls back for just a moment even if his whole body is telling him not to, not since this is the first time they've seen each other in days since a black narcotizing cloud shrouded over the small village they had called home for the past few years. He wants to wrap his arms around him once more, wants to take him and run until he can't smell the metallic sharpness of iron and taste ash at the back of his throat that is making it hard for him to swallow. Instead he shakes his head softly and cradles Carlos' face in the palms of his hands. He wipes the crystalline tears from his lovers cheeks with his thumbs before they can meet the scorched earth and presses their foreheads together, finally settling the rippling tremours across Carlos' frame into something more still. TK takes a deep breath, lets the smell of broken scorched earth all around him fade away until all he can smell is the faint woodsy smell of Carlos and the light, sweet smell of lilacs that seems to surround them the more he breathes in. He lifts a hand, tendrils of smoke still wafting from the tips of his fingers as the residual gold of his magic pulse alongside his veins like tree roots. He rests it on Carlos' chest plate —scratched and dented, but whole— where he knows the faint smell of violets is coming from. He reaches in, just under the neckline of the plate and plucks the bright purple flower from where Carlos had carefully tucked it after TK had gifted it to him under the blanket of stars and darkness. Not a farewell gift, but a promise, he had said when Carlos had tried to refuse. "You didn't; you won't," TK murmurs as he lets Carlos take it from his hands. It seems to bloom under his touch as Carlos tucks it into its home behind TK's ear. TK turns and kisses the palm of his hand. The small smile that blooms across the ash marring Carlos' skin is as warm as fire poppy petals. "You made a promise to bring this back to me after all."

It's been a minute since I've done one of these but between airplane and train rides and Conan Gray's new song here we are—

Carlos has never been much of a talker beyond all of the speaking he has to do for his job as a bartender. But that's okay, he's come to realize after months of working here. A bartender doesn't have to be a good talker.

They just have to be one hell of a performer.

He let's his void filled laugh rattle along side freshly washed glasses from the tray Nancy sets down next to him. Lets the dim lighting dancing along the crystal and the bottles around him illuminate the dimness in his eyes. Lets his hands moving on autopilot between himself and the customers distract them from the fact his dim smile only rises to the corners of his lips. When none of that works and he can see just the glimmer of something knowing in the tilt of their heads he pushes their drink towards them and turns to the next person before he can parse a question he would rather not answer from their half open lips.