#Anyways it's just a little doodle to get me back into drawing regularly now that I've finished my cosplay break

[the-insanity-of-mojiru]

I like these two streamers

[feyspeaker]

Hii me again. I'm not sure if I sent the ask I'm talking about on anon, so maybe that's why you didn't see it? It partially got answered with a recent ask you got anyway so no worries. I was just wondering if you use 3d in your process and if so, how? I've seen other illustrators use it to varying degrees and it seems like a really helpful tool to push your work.

Oh that's so weird! No I periodically go through my asks in chunks and I didn't see anything like that. I've had a few people in the past few months send me asks that looked like the second half of something else with no context, so maybe it's Tumblr fuckery. Sorry!!

I recommend learning Blender so you can help sculpt shapes and render lighting onto them in order to get the weirder/more complex shadows right. You can also apply colors onto the things you sculpt in order to see how the colors act in different lighting. It's pretty much an invaluable tool to me as it keeps me from having to problem-solve too much. I did a lot of digging around in my house to build references to photograph but it was just impractical to achieve the things I want to a lot of the time. I still do that, and you would not believe how many goofy photos I have of my husband in the poses you've seen me paint Astarion in lmao...

I do think that it needs to be used in moderation if you are a more beginner artist- I think that using 3D is DANGEROUSLY close to becoming a massive crutch for a newer artist and improper usage or over reliance on it can lead to stiffness or artificial looking colors. You need to be able to train your eye to create compelling compositions by bashing things together, and train your hand to replicate/add/subtract as needed from your references with an organic feel.

I will say this as a total committer of this crime myself in the past, it's VERY easy to tell when an artist relies too much on, for example, Clip Studio Paint posed models as bases for pieces without a good enough grasp on their fundamentals. And I also used to prickle when I saw more advanced artists warn of this, so I do think maybe it just has to run its course sometimes, because I know that using 3D for reference seems like an easy-button.

I've taken a lot of in-person classes for live figure drawing and painting, as well as just totally done drills, basically, on sketching and painting from life before relying too much on static imagery/3D/etc.

I often fret over every piece I do looking too stiff even still.

You have to do a LOT of the boring hard stuff the old fashioned way. And I regularly go back to it over and over when needed.

For example, I recently did a stupid amount of rose petal/flower studies deconstructing and painting ugly little paintings/doodles over and over because I know that I've been horribly weak at painting flowers for years (actively avoiding them). And I've been doing a lot of floral stuff lately due to that.

Whenever I start a new piece in new territory, I know it's going to mean several 3AM nighters where I have two other tabs open on Photoshop where I test out different textures or do a couple of studies. I'm working on a piece of my OC right now that has a lot of gore/medical instruments and I've been working on testing out different methods for shiny metal painting and some anatomical studies. I'll come to a snag in a painting and go "here we go" and work through it one piece at a time.

My Halsin piece, "Secret Spot" in the hot spring, was a massive undertaking with a lot of these moments. The Karlach x Dammon piece took 3 times longer than it should have due to me just having to go back and fix things knowing I could do better after doing some studies.

Ultimately I personally find art tutorials to be quite useless overall once you get to a certain point, unless they are teaching the use of a tool/software because you HAVE to figure out what works for you. And even then I use Blender like a monkey with a keyboard, I suspect, because I've just bruteforced through it, so I could probably use a tuneup from a good teacher on that haha. I hope this helps some, and sorry if I overstepped if I sound preachy.

[dis0rderly-cl0wn-nerd]

Crack A Smile and Cut Your Mouth

Ledger!Joker Origin Story

Chapter Two - Feels Better In My Head

Warnings: Child abuse, domestic violence, alcoholism

Chapter Summary: Jack hates school and his father. Life sucks and nowhere feels truly safe. He desperately wants a way out...

Author’s Note: I finally got this done! It took me forever. I kept getting stuck towards the middle part. Also, I felt like the last chapter was way too short so this one is a little longer. Anyway I hope you enjoy! <3

Do you guys want a taglist for this series? I'd be happy to add you.

< Previous - Next >

Jack woke up the next morning to the smell of bacon frying. His mother always got up early to cook breakfast. That was his alarm clock.

He yawned and crawled out of bed to get dressed. He kept on the same black t-shirt and pulled on a pair of khaki green cargo pants. He glanced over at his backpack tossed carelessly on the floor next to his nightstand and groaned. He knew he should probably go to school today. He’d already missed so much this year and his mother would pester him about it if he didn’t.

Jack picked up the backpack and stuffed its contents that fell out back in. He grabbed his sketchbook and his Polaroid camera from his dresser and packed them as well. There was no telling when inspiration would strike. He zipped the bag shut and slung it over his shoulder.

Cautiously, Jack walked from his room into the kitchen just in case Scott was still home. Jacqueline noticed him out of the corner of her eye. 

“It’s okay. He’s at work.”

Jack relaxed and sat down at the table. It was a sad fact that he felt the most at ease when his father wasn’t home. Jacqueline finished off the bacon and brought it over. Jack snagged a few pieces as she turned to the refrigerator to get something to drink. She returned to the table with a carton of orange juice and sat down next to her son.

“Please go to school today, Jack.” Jacqueline said as she poured him some orange juice.

“I will. But I have to leave early because Mike needs me in the shop today.” Jack told her as he gulped down the juice. 

Jacqueline sighed and swept her frizzy blonde curls out of her face. “Okay. At least you’re getting some education today. I just wish you would apply yourself more.”

“I don’t need school, mama. It’s dumb. I’m never gonna use any of it in the real world.”

“It never hurt anybody to be educated,” she kissed his forehead, “Now get going or you’re gonna be late. I love you.”

“Love you too.” Jack replied through a mouthful of bacon as he grabbed his stuff and went out the door.

He climbed into his black pickup truck parked under the carport and started off to school. He mentally prepared himself as he drove. It had been three days since he last went. He was really enjoying the small break but his mom wanted him to go and he didn’t want to disappoint her.

Jack made it to the school and walked in, keeping his head down and avoiding people. He didn’t have any friends. There were a few acquaintances sure, but no one he really hung around or talked to regularly. He was a loner. On days he did attend the whole day, he spent the lunch period by himself and his breaks drawing in his sketchbook.

As depressing as it seemed, it didn’t bother him. He liked being alone.

Jack entered his homeroom and sat down at his desk in the back. He took out a pencil and the notebook he needed and sat them in front of him. This was his first period class, boring as usual. He had no interest in algebra. Too many formulas and confusing rules. So he did what he normally did and doodled in his math notebook instead of taking notes.

His next class, chemistry, was just as hard for him but slightly piqued his interest. Learning about different chemicals and how things worked fascinated him. Especially when they got to talk about radiation and explosions. But today was just bookwork and Jack was bored out of his mind. 

Two more hours and I can get out of here…

The last class before lunch was English. Jack hated this subject. It was the most boring out of all his classes, his teacher was awful, and he wasn’t good at reading. 

To pass the time, he actually did his work but it was half-assed. He really could care less about schoolwork. Some things he genuinely didn’t understand but he still could’ve put in a little more effort. 

Finally, the lunch bell rang and Jack didn’t hesitate darting from the classroom to the parking lot. He made it back to his truck and left the school grounds in the dust, eager to get to work.

He loved his job. Mike was an awesome guy to work for. It didn’t pay much but it was a good first job. Jack helped out in Mike’s repair shop by sweeping, moving equipment, handing him parts, etc.

Jack arrived at the shop and parked out front. He walked around back to the garage where Mike usually was. Mike was a middle aged guy in his late 40s. He was bald, stout, and a little on the shorter side with a graying, bushy brown beard. He had become somewhat of a mentor to Jack over the years. 

Today Mike was underneath a small red car fixing something. He noticed Jack and slid out, chuckling. “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” 

“I was but Mom said I could leave early for work.” 

“Now why do I feel like that’s a half truth? Eh, it doesn't matter to me. It’s not my education you're screwing with.”

“Pfft. I don’t care about school. It’s so dumb. I probably learn more here than I do there.” 

Mike shrugged. “I got some stuff for you to do. There’s a few boxes out front with the new tools in them. Move them back here and put them where they go. Then I need you to sweep around the garage. It’s getting filthy.”

Jack nodded and got right to work. He went back to the front and found the boxes sitting at the door. They were unopened and quite heavy but nothing Jack couldn’t lift. He brought them back to the garage and set them down next to the metal cabinets. After opening them, he put all the tools where they belonged and threw away the boxes. Then he grabbed a broom and started sweeping. Dust, dirt, debris, trash, leaves, etc. littered the concrete floors. 

Man, I can’t even remember the last time I swept. This is disgusting. Jack thought as he tossed the dustpan on the floor and swept the pile of filth he created into the pan. 

Mike’s radio played in the background and Jack nodded quietly along with the music. For over an hour he swept and swept until the floor was finally clean. He dumped the last pile into the trash and propped the broom against the wall, admiring his work. He knew having the shop clean and organized would help out Mike a lot.

Mike looked up from his work and laughed. “Done already? Well, I guess I could teach you how to put in a new transmission. Come here and I’ll show you.”

After an interesting lesson from Mike and a few more hours of odd jobs around the shop, it was time for Jack to go home. He glanced at his watch as he walked back to his truck. He was about to open the door when a glimmer of light caught his eye. 

A brown glass bottle was laying in the ditch near the road. He paused for a moment, lost in thought. Suddenly a childhood memory hit him at full speed and there was no stopping it.

Crash! 

Glass was sent everywhere as Jack tumbled to the floor. He clutched the back of his head, blood pooling into his hands. He burst into tears as any eight year old would in this terrifying situation. His mother, hearing the commotion, came running into the kitchen. She ignored her seething husband for once and knelt next to her son, peeling away his hands and accessing the wound. 

Jaqueline whipped around to face the man responsible, unusually fearless. “Did you do this to him?!” 

“Pshhh. So what if I did? The little brat deserved it.” The drunk slurred. 

“He needs a hospital, Scott!” 

“You ain’t taking him nowhere! He’ll live.” Scott bellowed.

Jacqueline huffed, picked up Jack, and whisked him away to the bathroom where she could treat the wound to the best of her ability. She took a washcloth and ran it under some warm water. Then she fanned out his curls surrounding the gash and cleaned it up with the washcloth. She wiped his bloody hands clean and picked what glass she could out of his hair and the wound. Jack whimpered in pain.

“Shhh. It’s okay, sunshine. It’s okay. Mama’s got this taken care of.” Jacqueline reassured him gently.

Once she got the wound clean, she bandaged it and carried Jack to his room. She put him to bed and kissed him goodnight. Jack’s memory of that night faded from there.  

Jack blinked and brought himself back. He sighed and got in the driver’s seat. Before he went home, he wanted to ride around for a bit. He went straight through town and then took a few backroads. He ended up on the main road again out in the countryside. Nothing was out there except the forest and occasional billboards. His hometown truly was in the middle of nowhere.

A nice photo opportunity came up so Jack pulled over in a field nearby. There was a beautiful view of the sunset with the trees underneath. He fished his Polaroid out his backpack and hopped out of the truck. He lowered the tailgate and sat down, positioning his camera into the perfect place. When he got the shot he wanted, he set the camera down and laid back, gazing at the sky. 

He wished he could stay here forever lost in his head instead of going home. He dreaded school and he dreaded his house. The only true safe place was going out alone. The streets were once again his safe haven. 

Jack finally got a hold of himself and realized how much had passed. As much as he hated to, he really needed to get home. He put the tailgate up and climbed back in. The drive back home was the same as every other day yet he cringed at each familiar landmark he passed and every curve he rounded. Today he was feeling particularly uneasy about going home.

He turned down his street and pulled into his driveway, parking under the carport. His father wasn’t home yet. 

Thank God. 

As he walked up to the front porch, Jack noticed a pair of glowing yellow eyes underneath the deck. He smiled, knowing exactly who they belonged to. 

“Luna, come on out girl. It’s okay.” He coaxed the creature. 

A gray cat shimmied out from under the porch and stretched. She meowed and rubbed up against Jack's legs, purring contently. 

The neighborhood Jack lived in had a lot of stray cats. He loved animals and they loved him. He enjoyed all the cats he came across but he had a special bond with Luna. She wasn’t technically his cat since she moved throughout the neighborhood but she always found her way back to his house at some point.

Jack reached into his backpack and produced a plastic bag filled with cat treats. He always kept some on him in case he ran into a stray. He grabbed two treats out and sat them down in front of Luna. She nibbled at them gratefully and meowed her thanks. 

Jack pet her a few more times before walking up the stairs and entering the house. Jacqueline was in the kitchen washing dishes. Jack could smell dinner cooking. His mother turned around and her face lit up when she saw him. 

“Hi sweetie! How was your day?”

“Eh, it was alright. School was pretty boring.” 

“Ha. I figured you’d say that. Here, wash up and help me with the dishes.”

…

After Jack helped with washing the dishes and set up the table, the food was ready. Jacqueline took it out of the oven and placed it on the table. As soon as they sat down, Scott came stumbling through the door. The atmosphere in the house suddenly became tense and Jack could feel the temperature drop a few degrees.

“H-hi honey. Dinner’s ready.” Jacqueline said meekly.

Scott smirked. “Heh, you did something right for a change.” 

He sat down across from his wife and fixed his plate. Once again Jack was stuck in the middle. He felt his blood boil at his father's haughty attitude. His mom worked so hard for her no good husband only to be treated like dirt. 

“How was your day, son?” 

“Fine.” Jack replied shortly. He was repulsed by that horrible man calling him son.

Scott nodded half heartedly and turned to Jacqueline. “I’m glad we didn’t have a repeat of last night, dear.”

Jacqueline just looked down timidly. How could he be so cruel? Jack couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer.

“Last night would never have happened if you came home on time instead of going out drinking.” 

Jacqueline's eyes widened in fear. She glanced at Jack, silently pleading with him to be quiet. It was too late. Scott stood up, knocking his chair over, and loomed over Jack. 

“What was that, boy?”

Jack just stared back at him unafraid. Scott slapped him hard across the face and sent him to the floor. It all happened so fast, Jack could barely think. Before he knew it, Scott was kicking him in the side until his surge of rage subsided. Jack gasped as the wind was knocked out of him.

Finally Scott stopped and glared down at him angrily. “Don’t you ever question what I do with my time again! It’s none of your business.” 

With that he sat down again and went back to eating, completely ignoring his beaten son lying on the floor. All Jack could do was lay there and cry silently. He couldn’t wait until he could finally get away from this hellhole. It would come at a cost but to him it was worth it.

[mk-smokescreen]

MK LEGENDS: BLOOD BOUND

CHAPTER 13: First date

Waking up, the caped crusader would start off his morning regularly, but the second he eats breakfast, he heads off straight to the gym to proceed to beat the punching bag to a pulp, not knowing what else to do to relieve some weird feeling he has in his soul. He would leave, and his face was as red as the sun. He goes to the interrogation cells, and grabs a crayon and paper, walks outside and climbs up to sit on the top of the gate and draw. He makes a really shitty doodle of himself in his Red and white outfit throwing his knives at Shao Kahn’s tremendous head. Above Shao’s head is a text bubble that reads “bruh, im dead.”. Suddenly, Johnny Cage would walk out and notice this scene.

JOHNNY: What’re you doing up there, pal?

ROBIN: Oh, hey, mr. Cage. Nothing, just drawing a little bit, considering I can’t do anything else at the moment.

JOHNNY: You know, you can go out whenever you want.

ROBIN: Is this legit?

JOHNNY: Yeah. Don’t worry about Sonya, I’ll cover for you.

ROBIN: Huh. This changes everything. Thank you so much, JC. I’ll be back by 10.

JOHNNY: Sure. take later if you want.

Hearing this, Nico threw away the doodle and crayon, jumped down and rushed to his room, grabbing his jacket and phone. Quickly texting Melisa to meet him at the cafe close to the park they first met. He took a dirt bike and rode off to the city. After a few hours of riding, he finally met her at the place, where she was waving at him. He parked his bike on the sidewalk and walked over to her table, sitting on the opposite end of the table. As the waiter walks over, they make their orders, and chat as they wait.

MELISA: So, how’ve you been doin’?

ROBIN: Oh, you know… I’ve been… I think I said enough, I’ve just been.

She chuckled, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

MELISA: Well, I could say the same. It's not horrible, but not great either. But it’s mostly fine. I actually managed to sell some designs.

ROBIN: Wow, that sounds great.

MELISA: It is. And… you seem to be sweating pretty badly.

Until pointed out, Nico didn’t even notice the bullets of sweat going down his face.

ROBIN: Oh, uh, thanks, let me just…

He says as he takes off his jacket and hangs it on his chair, wiping the sweat off his face.

ROBIN: Anyways uhhhh… I noticed your jacket. Very edgy, I love it-

Realizing what he just said, the crusader’s face went fully red, and in his mind he could only think of one word… 

“  S  H  I  T  !  “

She didn’t seem to mind the comment, in fact, she smiled at it, as if he told a joke in class. 

MELISA: Well, aren’t you a comedian? Actually, it is a little sunny today, huh?

As she said that, she took off her beanie, showing off her cobalt blue hair. Robin, seeing it, tries to avert eye contact, to make the moment less awkward.

MELISA: Ooh, here’s the lesbian panic. I see it already.

Robin looks behind himself, addressing the readers.

ROBIN: Someone, somewhere, is very happy right now… Happy pride, you lovely idiots.

He then turned back to the designer. As she looks at him with a hint of disappointment.

ROBIN: Sorry. Still getting used to not being a douche.

The waiter would then return with their coffee, and wait for the pay. Nico would then rummage through his pockets, but seeing that he forgot the money. He then looked at Melisa.

ROBIN: You don’t happen to have any money, do you, Lyss?

She sighed, and took the exact cost for the coffee. The two would drink up, hop on the bike and head west. He parked somewhere near a graphic design school, and after that, they walked.

MELISA: Well, I’ll give you this. Not a horrible first date, but do remember, a gentleman pays the bill for his ladies meal.

Robin would shrug, looking down at the ground, but then taking a deep breath, looking up and breathing out.

ROBIN: I’ll keep that in mind. Next time, I'll bring the money, and pay for a new leather jacket.

She’d chuckle, lightly punching his arm.

MELISA: Save that for a professional date. Now, it’s kinda getting late.

ROBIN: Yeah, I should really get going, too.

He said as he jumped back on the bike. 

MELISA: Oh, Nico, before you go…

Nico would turn to her, as she walks up to him and gives him a hug. He, much like Liu Kang in 11 when he gets hugged by Kitana, doesn’t know how to respond, so he just sits there, blushing.

MELISA: Thanks for taking me home.

She says before letting go. Nico’s a bit confused, but then understands when he sees her tap on the door that has a velcro label with her name on it.

ROBIN: Oh! I, uh, no problem. See ya, I-I guess.

He says as he drifts off east, as he’s in a rush to get back home. Melisa sees him driving off into the sunset, and smiles, while thinking to herself.

MELISA: He’s not even hiding the fact that he’s crushing on me.

She then enters the building, and entering her apartment, she sits on her window and plays some music to relax.

[fanarchoslashivist]

Do you have a patreon or nsfw patreon or do you accept nsfw commission? Are you going to draw for zadr dp or rottmnt? Do you only draw nsfw bunnymund or draw other Guardians? I miss your dp art. Will you move Photo Opportunities to ao3 or write for dp again? Sorry if no.

So, I'll try to answer as best I can. I'm glad you like my art, thankyou. I'm sorry I haven't done anything for dp lately.

I don't have any patreon, I was encouraged to start one years ago but I just don't have enough art on a steady enough schedule to post it and there isn't much interest in what I do post to justify putting any of it behind a paywall. Even just moving my few nsfw pics to pillowfort for free severely cut down any interactions with my work. I just don't post on a steady enough schedule to gather any interest and so it's just extra work that no one would pay for anyway.

I draw a variety of nsfw, but it's primarily just to get a thought down or as a gift for someone. I'll share it on occasion, but I don't really see a point in cleaning them up to post. When I post things it's mostly because I know someone would like to see it, otherwise I just doodle it to get the idea down and move on. I'm not the type to post every little thing I do if I'm not stuck in 'overshare' mode.

I'm not very good with commissions for the same reason I'm not good at posting regularly. I don't have a lot of freetime, and I can't really justify charging anyone a lot for the skill level I'm at. I've done a few $10 sketches for people I'm close with, but in the past when I tried offering commissions when I was in much livelier fandoms back in 2012-13 and I didn't get any interest. It's not a very nice feeling to be desperate for help and being met with silence. Back then I decided it was better to just live without electricity than face that again. So unless I lose my job and end up with time on my hands to actually devote to getting better at my art, I don't think I can do commissions. I just think there's a lot of better artists already struggling to fill their slots that you can turn to.

I don't really have the time to learn how to draw the rottmnt style, I do have zadr and Danny Phantom doodles but I don't really have the energy to clean those up these days. I only really post Bunnymund because I like the comfort of drawing him now that I have him all figured out. He's fun for me, and he takes my mind off things. If you notice I don't really draw anyone except him outside of events.

And yes I will eventually move the rest of my fics to ao3, I just don't have a lot of time to devote to it right now.

I'm sorry I'm not active enough.

[stupidzeldaaus]

Okay- here we go-

The Steampunk Minish AU

I'll leave a whole bunch of explanations under the cut because it's a mess. There's a lot....

Okay getting the minish themselves out of the way first- these are just three of them.

So first off is the minish girl with a mini guardian sword. She's the reason it turned into spirit tracks brainrot so it was fitting to give her an outfit based off of the engineers outfit.

She has a grappling hook as well, which is mostly for scaling up tables, chairs, and bookshelves in the Hateno Ancient Tech Lab. And the guardian sword, due to being effective against guardians, is used to sever connections inside of them.

I had a sibling ask (around the vaatea au) if the minish used acorns as coffee cups so she has coffee in an acorn. She needs it.

Next is this guy. I honestly haven't put much thought into him except he's probably alot older than he looks. Also I think he'd vibe with Robbie in Akkala. Those goggles he has probably move like Robbies do as well.

He was also the one who made the little guardian sword.

Oh and his tail is under his clothes. It's probably so it doesn't get in the way.

Alright- my personal favorite and also the one that will probably out me on discord cause they're based off another OC I've already shown off and do not shut up about. Anyway, they're a ray of sunshine.

So they seem to carry a lot of tools on them, some of which can't be seen. They also have a lot of belts on their jacket, which, while it seems like just a fashion statement, I think they have a use. Most likely for holding more tools. The big pockets probably have tiny nuts bolts and screws. Also snacks. They gotta make sure their partner didn't just have coffee for breakfast.

So Purah. She's actually pretty important since, not only is she a scientist, she can see them all as well. I had a theory a while back that she turned into a child to study minish and then that was cut from the game. She can see them but, can't quite understand them at that point. Maybe she makes a translator or finds a jabber nut later.

The minish trying to explain something here might be the first based off of handedness but also might be the first ones mother. The first picture has her speaking minish while the bottom has her drawing out a wrench, glasses, and a sword. The sword might be in reference to the minish cap.

Yep. They still wear leaf cloaks. But they're more for camouflage now. Botw may not have cats that I know of but they do have birds that typically eat mice. And the manga did show that yep animals can see the minish pretty well actually.

Alright- the fun part! It's mostly going to be explanation since- guardians...

Robbie studied guardians mostly so its probably his research that gave the minish the knowledge on their inner workings.

So the first picture has who I think is a younger version of the second minish.

We saw where Link had trouble climbing up sheikah walls and the minish probably had the same problem.

Theres one scene from secret world of Arrietty where they use double sided tape for climbing, and i wanted to use that but I didn't think tape was a thing invented in the zelda universe. And (after an adult timeline and beyond quest) SURE ENOUGH- Spirit Tracks wellspring station. Also possibly Purah or Robbies labs. So... I guess that can be a thing...

Secondly is the guardian labeled dead. It's been taken down. One thing I should mention- I'd like to think that if the active guardian stalkers are closer to towns or roads used regularly there's probably more of a chance that they'd be immobilized.

Plus the thought of the scene from revenge of the sith, with the AT-AT, would probably be cool with a guardian.

The guardians probably would go even more haywire than they already were while trying to shut them down and it's probably better if there isn't a giant spider robot running into one of the stables.

Link ran into this guardian, and knows he didn't take it down. So who or what did...?

There's a third unfinished doodle that I couldn't bring myself to finish, mainly because i couldn't figure out anything about the inside of a guardian. What I know is that there are gears, shafts, springs, and cores. I wanted initially to let them meet the hylian champion but- this link is more of an adult and he probably can't see them.

Finally- I did say it devolved into spirit tracks.

The first picture is a book on New Hyrule, which is covering the Spirit Train, The Hero of Spirits, and Byrne apparently. This book might have been lost somewhere in Hyrule Castle, since I'd like to believe the royal family would keep track of all the legends and history of Hyrule.

Finally, the final picture.

So the minish girl (Okay they all really need names...) is trying to decide on how to power the train. Sheikah technology or Lokomo technology. Two very different technologies.

They are not the same. Not even remotely.

The train she's in the middle of sketching was from the ST concept art. Apparently the book she was reading didn't have much on steam power.

(But that doesn't mean it's the only book. If I had to guess there's most likely a few more books on the technology from new hyrule.)

I'd like to have eventually a train going from Akkala to Hatenos lab, and eventually go across all of Hyrule

Anyway thanks for reading through! I know it was a mess.

[ultimatetornshipper]

Daminette December day 11- Snowglobe and 12- Soulmate au

@daminette-december2019-2020

Okk sooo like I said I wanted to make a separate lil one shot for this one because I have a nice lil idea in mind and my medieval au does not work with the snow globe and soulmate thing so I decided fuck it.

Also Tim isn’t it the series yet so I decided to do some brotherly shenanigans that included him.

This one shot actually worked out really well like I love it.

I get to be slightly more… hmm what’s the word?... stupid?

It’s the writing on skin, appears on soulmate's skin, soulmate au btw.

Honestly I love this, it did not go as expected lmao.

Anyway I hope u guys enjoy this!

Previous- Princes and Pedestals Chapter 10

Next- Princes and Pedestals Chapter 11

The Permanent Marker

The first time Damian saw a snow globe it had been during a fight with Tim, who'd decided to throw him with it.

It was safe to say that the item that was thrown ended their fight. The side made of ceramic hit his arm. Unfortunately (or fortunately) it landed on the floor, the glass shattered. The tiny fake snowflakes scattered all over the place.

Before then he had only heard of one thing that, in his mind, worked similarly…

“Drake, I will skin you alive!” he said jumping on his brother, Jason pulled him off and held him back, “Todd! Release me at once! The imbecile just attacked me with a glitter bomb!”

The entire manor went silent for a few seconds before they all burst out laughing.

To this day, he was still being teased about it. Even though the incident had happened years ago.

It resulted in him having quite the distaste for snow globes.

So imagine his annoyance when he woke up four days before the anniversary of The Incident with a picture of a snow globe on his hand.

As if that didn’t make the message clear enough, there was a snow globe and a glitter bomb on his bedside table, each labelled mockingly.

He growled and turned his gaze back to his hand.

He had no idea how his brothers had managed to draw it on him without waking him up but he was absolutely livid.

His soulmate must be incredibly confused as to why there was a crudely drawn snow globe on her hand.

He got up and stomped to the bathroom, washing it off. He got ready and walked angrily to the dining room.

He found them all there and when they saw his sour expression they burst out laughing.

He glared at them all through breakfast, his temper far shorter than usual.

He just hoped his soulmate wouldn’t ask about the snow globe or better still, that she hadn’t seen it.

Every morning for the next two days, he woke up with an ugly little snow globe on his hand. And each morning he would wash it off.

He was bordering on the edge of murderous.

Meanwhile in Paris, Marinette was in a similar state.

You see, for three days she had been trying to remember the damn stupid snow globe Alya had forgotten at her house over the weekend.

She’d drawn a nice little snow globe on her hand to remind herself. But apparently her soulmate was hell bent on not letting her return the damned snow globe.

Each time she drew the little picture, he would wash it off it sometime before she got home.

Because of course he would.

She knew he was a tidy person and he’d established that he had no wish to meet her back when they were small, but usually he at least didn’t wash off her drawings.

She huffed in annoyance as she rode the train back home.

It would’ve been easier to return the snow globe to Alya when they were still in Collegé Francious Du Point, where she lived only a street away. But nooooo, their lycee was far enough away that she had to take the train there and back. Just having Alya pick it up wasn’t as easy as it used to be.

She took out a pen and redrew her snow globe. He had already washed off the one she made earlier that day.

When she got home she realized that he had also washed off the one she made on the train. She huffed in annoyance and groaned.

Why was everything against her?

She eyed her drawer.

Maybe…

No, that wasn’t fair, she didn’t know why he erased the snow globe each time. There could be a very good reason.

Her pettier side didn’t care though. She was sick of him. He’d hurt her so much when they were kids, refusing to even try to get to know her. Not replying to any of her writing or doodles.

Eventually she stopped writing but doodles found still their way onto her skin. And they arrived at a silent truce of sorts, he would let her draw, and she wouldn’t expect anything.

Until now apparently.

Why couldn’t he just give her – give them - a chance?

Why couldn’t they just be normal? Why did he have to be such an ass? Why couldn’t they just write to one another?

She was reminded of the only time he'd written more than a few words to her.

The day she’d accidentally used the wrong kind of pen. The kind that had ink that didn’t wash off properly until after three days.

A permanent marker.

She didn’t known it was a permanent marker, and it wasn’t like she’d drawn anything too big with it. Just a medium sized heart on her wrist.

She was eight, she didn’t think it would be a problem.

Well apparently it was, because that day he let her have it. That day he made it clear that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with her.

But to hell with that.

If he wanted to break their truce, the weird set of rules they had somehow established…

Then so would she.

She stood and opened the drawer, she took out the permanent marker she hadn’t touched in years and removed the lid.

She smiled as she drew her snow globe again.

This time she would remember the snow globe.

And she did, the next morning she saw her snow globe still on her hand, slightly smudged, but there. She smiled victoriously.

She returned Alya's snow globe and spent the rest of the day on cloud nine. Maybe it wasn’t the nicest of things to do, but it wasn’t like he took her into consideration. She figured this, at most, made them even.

What caught her off guard however, was the neat writing in black ink that appeared on her wrist later that night

The words ‘I’m sorry’ were etched onto her skin in handwriting that she recognized as his.

You see Damian hadn’t noticed the sketch when he got home. Hadn’t noticed it when he’d put on his gloves for patrol or when he’d gone to bed.

He never saw it until morning.

He lost it when he realized his brothers had written on him with a permanent marker.

The one think he’d basically forbade her from doing all those years ago and they did it.

They crossed a line. And Damian made that perfectly clear.

By attacking them and beating them up until they apologized.

He still felt it was necessary to apologize to her.

For the permanent ink. But also for all the years of silence, for all the years of ignoring her.

He settled on a small ‘I’m sorry’ on his wrist and hoped for the best.

That tiny apology, though, opened up a line of communication between the two.

They started talking regularly, growing closer and closer through their words. Eventually they met and started dating.

They helped one another, through trauma and superheroing and liars and villains, they were there.

They became a dynamic duo, he helped her run her label while she did commissions and designed her days away.

They were happy, one of the success stories. And while they hung up the capes and cowls, they were always available for emergencies.

They would tell their children and their grandchildren the story of the snow globe. Dick, Jason and Tim often liked to take credit. Earning a disgusted ‘Tt' from Damian and a laugh from Marinette.

The moral of the story, Marinette always liked to say, was that sometimes even the smallest, insignificant thing could make the biggest, life altering difference.

Taglist:

@animegirlweeb @loysydark @toodaloo-kangaroo @forgottenfriends @wolf-for-life @heyitsbugette @f-rget-lt @fusser90 @editorofeverything @thenillabean @sunflowers-and-mooncakes

[matchasprouts]

Listen Closer - Chapter 5

[ can't stop won't stop. when will Lawrence not get cockblocked by Nar <///3 ]

First || Next || Previous || Last

Luckily for all of them, Garrett did finish that furnace before the day was over. He managed to check the trigger on the fire right before passing out face down on his bed. He told them they’d just move it to the house in the morning.

It wasn’t morning when they moved it, but it got moved out of his room at the very least before he was running out to get to his real job. He was definitely going to be late, but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with that giant machine in his living space anymore. Mark and Amanda could figure out how to get it to the house themselves.

“You’re late,” one of his coworkers teased as he clocked in and he just rolled his eyes. “And you look like shit. How do you live like this?” they continued, receiving a short glare from Garrett.

He didn’t necessarily hate his coworkers, but he wasn’t friends with them either. “Easily,” he replied shortly, leaving no more room for conversation as he clipped his nametag on his shirt and got to work.

Normally he wasn’t so short with them, but he was tired and wanted to get on with the day so he could help with the final preparations for the game.

The day went by quickly, especially because Nar remembered he had his phone number and would occasionally send him pictures of Amanda working, or a joking picture of Hoffman’s ass. He even received a picture of Lawrence ranting about something, probably a bad hospital show. Stuff like that always got him through the day.

“Is that your new boyfriend?” The coworker from earlier, Nadia, asked when they got a glimpse of one of the Hoffman ass pics. They backed off at the look Garrett gave them.

“No.” That was where he left it, putting his phone in his pocket and getting back to work. He was very lucky that Nadia didn’t get the chance to see him turn bright red at the mere idea of Hoffman being his boyfriend.

It was around 5pm when Garrett finally got off, practically running out of the bookstore and heading directly for his car. He was kind of aware of Nadia trying to talk to him as he sped out of the door, but didn’t care enough to stay put.

He was partly rushing so much because he needed to help finish the trap, but mostly because right before his shift ended, he’d gotten a text from Nar:

‘help gordon is trying to walk and idk what to do, he’s just hobbling around with his lil prosthetic help-’

He TOLD Gordon to wait until he could help him, and now he was speeding toward the base, two miles away from being pulled over for how fast he was driving. Plus there was the fact that the other two apprentices weren’t supposed to know about him, according to John, and the picture attached to the text showed him one of the main work rooms.

Fucking idiot, Gordon was supposed to be smart and here he was, being the dumbest bitch in the Jigsaw house, stepping way too close to getting killed.

---

… Apparently the other apprentices weren’t home.

Amanda was already at the Nerve Gas House to help with finishing touches, and Hoffman was at the precinct to “help” with the newest Jigsaw case, meaning Gordon was not in danger of being killed.

Garrett still scolded him.

“I can’t believe you!” He hissed as Gordon leaned into his side, trapped by the arm across his back and the hand placed on his midriff. “I told you! I told you not to try to move around without my help! You know Nar can’t support your weight!!”

Gordon just chuckled at him, the gravelly sound just pissing him off more rather than flustering him like usual.

“Lawrence!! This isn’t a joke!!! I’m genuinely worried about your dumb ass!!!!” Garrett continued, his voice slightly more high pitched in annoyance. Gordon just laughed at him again, making him huff as he practically dragged the doctor back to his room.

It was when he was finally sat down that Gordon said something. “I know you’re worried, but I wasn’t going to call you out of work just so I can walk around.”

“Wh- That’s what I expected you to do!!” Garrett countered, almost offended at the idea that Gordon thought his job was more important than him. “You literally can’t walk without help, and you’ve been bedridden for months! You don’t even have a cane yet!”

Gordon was just watching him at this point as he continued to list off reasons he should have been called, a small smile on his face at how animated Garrett got when he was passionate about something.

“... Why are you staring at me like that?” Garrett asked once he noticed Gordon’s gaze, his hands frozen midair in one of his wild gestures.

“You called me Lawrence.” Garrett’s eyes widened, he hadn’t even noticed. “And I like listening to your voice. I know you’re busy, but I wish you would visit more often, even if it was just to talk.”

Bro stop you’re scaring the hoes with attachment issues who are afraid of relationships (Garrett).

“Wh- I don’t-” Garrett’s stammering was cut off by Gordon’s lip suddenly connecting with his, and he mentally cursed himself for almost immediately melting into it.

The kiss didn’t last long because Gordon had stood up to reach Garrett, and he pulled back to sit back down on the bed, but that didn’t last long either.

As if he’d been waiting for it his whole life, Garrett practically lunged at the doctor, pulling him into another, slightly more desperate kiss. His hands were gripping Gordon’s shirt hard enough that it would definitely be forever wrinkled like that, and he was pretty much in the other man’s lap.

He was worried he was coming off too strong for all of two seconds, the concern dissipating when Gordon’s hands found his hips, holding him there in a tight grip.

Garrett had just begun to thread his fingers through Gordon’s hair- two seconds away from pulling at it- when there was a knock on the door.

Both of them jumped, Garrett shooting back like he’d been shocked. “I forgot we weren’t alone,” he whispered to Gordon, gaining a soft laugh from the doctor. Both of them took a moment to put themselves back together (when had Gordon started unbuttoning Garrett’s shirt?) before answering the door.

Nar glanced between the two of them, seemingly surprised that they looked like they had when they went in- luckily, the room was dark enough to conceal their flushed faces and Garrett’s very red lips.

“You done yelling at him?” he asked Garrett, who nodded in reply. “Good. John wants you at the Nerve Gas House, he wants you to set up the razor box.” Right. Garrett had forgotten about that.

He took one last glance at Gordon before sighing. “I’m so sick of that box,” he muttered, though he accepted his fate and headed out in far less of a frenzy than before. To be completely honest, he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to finish what he started with Gordon. But… the others needed his help, and he needed to give it.

That didn’t mean he didn’t spend the whole drive there thinking about the feeling of Gordon’s lips on his, and what else he could do to the good doctor the next time they were alone.

---

“Does that look good?” Garrett asked Hoffman once the razor box was attached to the ceiling, taking a few steps back to stand next to the detective.

He’d been having trouble with getting the box to hang evenly, which was a struggle he was no stranger to, so he’d brought Hoffman in to take a look at it.

The detective tilted his head slightly to the side as he inspected it, before letting out a soft hum. “You finally got it,” he confirmed, straightening back up. He didn’t flinch when Garrett let out a triumphant whoop, which was proof that one could get used to him quickly.

“You’re a godsend,” Garrett told him, slapping him on the shoulder before leaving the room, running down the hall to tell John and Amanda the good news. He could hear Hoffman following him, but absolutely did not slow down.

He skidded into the main room where John and Amanda were going over the plan for the thousandth time, almost tripping over his own foot and sending himself crashing into the ground. His only saving grace was Hoffman grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him back onto his feet.

John and Amanda stared at him like he was crazy for all of two seconds, before completely ignoring the fact that he almost just curbstomped himself into the floor. “I finally got the razor box straight,” Garrett spoke up, also acting as if he did not almost just die. “All my traps are good to go. Now, I desperately need sleep, so I’m gonna go home and take a two hour nap.”

He wasn’t. He was going to go back to his apartment and frantically draw up plans until he passed out from sleep deprivation at 2am. That was his permanent Jigsaw trap, one he could never escape from.

Wow. That was the most emo thought he’d had since middle school.

“Anyway. Good-bye.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked out of the house, but not after patting Hoffman- who had still been awkwardly standing behind him- on the chest, slipping a piece of paper into the front pocket of his shirt.

What was on it, you ask? A gay little doodle of Hoffman setting up the door gun. Why did he give it to him? He doesn’t know how to flirt. This is the best he’s got.

He went straight ‘home’ after that, a little annoyed he couldn’t go back to the base but also knowing that his neighbours were weirdly nosy and would “get concerned” if he didn’t show up to his apartment regularly.

Plus, his couch there was a really comfortable bed.

[impassive-aggressive]

I've been thinking about art a lot lately, or more specifically my relationship with it and my identity as an artist.

The latter is something I've actively resisted for most of my life because my art didn't feel art-y enough - I just make doodles of cartoon characters, they're nothing special, there's no profound message I'm trying to convey. It's only in the last couple of years that I've felt even a little bit comfortable in embracing the thought that I am An Artist and I create Art, even if it's silly and unpolished and, I guess, disposable.

(I *do* have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings wandering around in my head but I don't think I'm good enough at art yet to convey them meaningfully, or maybe art just isn't how I feel comfortable expressing them, I don't know. There's a lot of psychology involved in art that makes it weird and messy and complicated. Anyway.)

I went through a really rough patch wrt art around 2010-11, the details of which I don't feel like going into here, but suffice to say I couldn't find any pleasure or satisfaction or *worth* in drawing anymore. I hated everything I produced, it only made me depressed and reluctant to try anything that might improve it because I was terrified of failing. This thing that had been a constant in my life for literally as long as I could remember had more or less failed me. Drawing had always been kind of a comfort - if I couldn't do anything else right, at least I could draw - and that was gone now. Needless to say, this didn't do a lot for my already-shitty mental health.

Several things happened ~2015 that helped turn this around, namely that I started taking antidepressants and found an online social thing that I could throw myself into wholeheartedly. I felt better and actually wanted to start drawing again, and I wasn't *as* scared of fucking up as I had been, so I started really trying to improve my art and strengthen some of my weaker areas. Last year, in possibly the only good thing to have come out of 2020, I was finally in a position where I was enjoying the process of making art again. Drawing was fun, and challenging, and actually brought me pleasure instead of making me feel like a failure. I currently don't do as much of it as I'd like because my body is excruciatingly stingy with its mental/emotional energy - or maybe I don't do very much that I end up showing to other people; I draw pretty regularly during down time at work, which has been...immensely, indescribably rewarding. Art and I are on more than speaking terms, at last. We're friends again and that feels amazing after having gone so long being estranged from it.

So what's weird about art, and I don't think this is just a Me thing because I see *a lot* of other artists express similar feelings, is that it's simultaneously a source of joy and one of extreme, brutal frustration. Art feels *good* but as soon as it's finished you see a million things you could have done better. Being around other artistic people gets you fired up to want to Get Good but as soon as you try you're dismayed to discover that improvement is an agonizingly slow process - and this is something that you absolutely will """discover""" again and again, even though as an artist you are already acutely aware of how long it takes to improve at things. You simultaneously love being an artist and curse it with every fibre of your being, wondering over and over why you were born into this hellish existence of grasping for perfection that you will never attain. And you angst about it for like three seconds and then get an awesome idea for Art and go right back to drawing, because you're an idiot ARTIST.

You know that comic that's floating around about how being an artist isn't about being "good enough", it's about being too dumb to stop? It's true. I finally get that. And I think that's what makes me feel that, yes, I am in fact an artist.

My art still isn't really what I'd call "good", but I think I'm well enough at last to be kind to myself and accepting of my failings, to acknowledge that there's room to improve while I celebrate the advancements I've made. Amidst the constant drive to express myself and share with other people there also has to be room to have fun and play and do things that are just for me. I feel like the state of being an artist is a force of nature that has to be harnessed and directed; you can't really control it, because it's there and it will do its thing whether you want it to or not, but you can find ways to guide it and live with it in a healthy fashion.

...I still have a lot of thoughts on this but holy shit I've blathered on about this way too much already. derp.

[lutrain2020]

Meet the Creator!

Introducing: Squido!

Commission:  I haven't and don't really intend to. I don't want to take anyone's hard-earned money. Just ask me to draw things and there's a good chance I will.

Social Media:  Tumblr: @sky-squido​ AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_squido/pseuds/sky_squido

Tell us a little bit about yourself!

Call me Squido! I love to draw and write but I'm also super extraverted and I love interacting with humans so always feel free to chat with me! Aside from drawing and writing, I just love being outside and have a tumblr sideblog dedicated exclusively to nature photos I take. I love mountains, the ocean, the sky, and just about everything else in this beautiful world of ours! If you ever feel like having an internet stranger give you a thousand word rant, ask me why my favorite color is blue and you will not be disappointed!

What got you into creating? what inspires you to keep creating?

I've been drawing for as long as I can remember and can't seem to stop, though I take long breaks sometimes I always seem to come back to it again. I try not to have anything in mind when I draw, but to start sketching and let the drawing happen. Sometimes I find that what I'm trying to draw is not what my drawing wants to be (if that makes any sense) and change what I'm making halfway through. It makes drawing a really relaxing and carefree therapeutic experience! Writing is different. I've always enjoyed writing, but I didn't write much and never shared my writing with anyone because I thought it was super pretentious. It wasn't until entering High School and joining the literature club and making a deal with a friend that we'd share our writing with each other that I actually gained any sort of confidence in my ability and sought to improve it. Being in that club and sharing my pieces at the open mics was a really encouraging experience! I invite everyone to share their writing, even if it's with some random internet stranger (I'm open anytime!) if they're unsure of their abilities. A little encouragement goes a long way! Now that I'm on Discord, ao3, and tumblr, I receive so much more feedback than I ever have before! It's been super encouraging! What inspires me most is definitely nature. Even if my ideas aren't directly related to the outdoors, I get my best ideas there. Fandoms are also a great idea generator. The sheer volume of headcanons and prompts is enough to make me dizzy with ideas!

What's your creative process like?

I love sketching. My favorite thing about drawing digitally is that I can sketch as much as I like and never worry about wasting materials! Often times my sketches turn themselves into drawings without permission and other times they stubbornly remain sketches for all eternity. I always dive right in because I have no patience and the idea I started out with generally isn't that great but in the process of pursuing it, it spirals out of control and sometimes the idea gets better and sometimes it gets worse but I just kinda roll with it. Creating is a really chill process for me and while I regularly scream stuff like "I'M DRAWING ON THE WRONG LAYER NONONONONONO" or "NO HECK FRICK SHOOT IT SMUDGED HECK HECK GET THE ERASER QUICK," the creative process is a great way for me to unwind. I'm the same way about writing. I never plan or outline and just kind of roll with things. I mean I generally have the basic jist in mind, but I try to not have a plan so I can keep the story driven by the characters and not force them into acting the way I wanted them to in the outline I made hours or even days ago. Creating is my opportunity to break free so I don't really see what good a plan or outline does me. I'm a pretty spontaneous person!

What kind of mediums do you like to use?

I like to take pictures, but it's not really my main focus. I've been mostly digitally drawing—I use my iPad Pro and Procreate—but lately I've been pencil sketching with just your average everyday mechanical pencil (I'd forgotten how nice the texture of paper was! Clearly I spent too much time drawing on my iPad!). I have these Stabilio chalk pastels I love to pieces, but have also spent a great deal of time with watercolors. Digital is my primary medium currently, though.

Is there a specific scene wrote that you are particularly proud of?

"Sky’s golden scales are glowing with reflected light from the sun while beneath them, the same pulsing blue in her mane runs like a river as her very skin is alive with electricity. The sun’s beginning to dip, fading through the color wheel from yellow to deep orange to scarlet and the world is bathed in watercolor and hue shifted through the rainbow until all that was blue becomes red. This new alien world begins to darken as red fades to deep purple-pink, the clouds catching last vestiges of gold in their pillowy folds, yet Sky continues rippling with lighting, the bright blue flowing like blood through her veins and the gold shimmering in the eerie azure glow. We weave through the winds and zephyrs and I close my eyes and let the breeze caress my hair and when I reopen them, I’m standing back on the ground again in a world long since darkened by night. I place my hand over my beating heart where Sky is still laughing with joy and smile because once you’ve awakened your dragon, you don’t need wings to fly anymore."

Is there someone who inspires you and your writing or art?

Every fanartist and fanfic writer that posts their stuff online is an inspiration to me. Even if their stuff isn't very good—especially if it isn't very good—it's a huge testament to the courage of the creator and their bravery in expressing themself! I sat on fanfic and fanart for years and never shared it and here were kids half my age putting out art that was their first experiment in a new medium and a little shaky but it was still out there and they were still being supported by the community and that really inspired me to reach out and stop lurking in fandom and actually get involved!

is there something that you struggled with that made you grow as a creator?

I feel like everyone has these periods where they were just gaining confidence in their artistic ability but suddenly everything they make is trash and they're not happy with any of it and they feel so down and worthless and "where did all of my hard-earned ability go? Will I ever get it back?" I think this is a pretty common experience and when I find myself there, I find it most helpful to share what I make anyway, even if I hate it, with someone who I know will give it to me straight because they'll point out the deeper problems—the root of the issue—that I hadn't even noticed and I can use that information to grow as an artist. Bad pieces are just as valuable as good ones. There was also a time where I had a lot of trouble developing a style. I did a lot of experimenting and never found anything I liked. What happened is I just kept drawing and whatever popped out eventually evolved into my style. I used to get frustrated that I couldn't draw anything without a reference, but after years and years of using references and drawing some of the same things over and over again, you won't need the references anymore. I mean, they're great and you should always feel free to use them, but over time, you won't need to look up a picture of every little thing you try to doodle.

What got you into writing or art?

My silly twitchy fingers can't ever seem to stop drawing! Same with writing. Words and ideas follow me around, little plot bunnies pestering me until they get written down somewhere. I was greatly inspired by the works of C.S. Lewis in my writing, especially his Cosmic Trilogy. My art style was aided by Hiromu Arakawa's Fullmetal Alchemist, which was a valuable stepping stone in developing my own style. Other than that, it was my own insatiable desire to MAKE THINGS that spurred me onwards. I don't think I could stop if I tried!

What's your favorite part of the creative process?

After you've got that first paragraph and you've found a flow and you've got a topic and you just GO. I get into the zone and the story starts happening on its own and I'm not an author anymore, I'm just a channel between the world of the piece and the page. That's my favorite. I love watching things take shape. I love shading a sketch for these same reasons. The whole drawing comes together and becomes A Thing and it's the most exciting time to be a creator. Something else inside you has taken over and you're just along for the ride. I have no idea if my experiences are common at all but this is what it's like for me!

What's your least favorite part of the creative process?

EDITING. I HAVE ZERO PATIENCE. THE THING IS DONE. WHY DO I HAVE TO KEEP LOOKING AT IT. CAN I POST IT YET. This leaves me with a lot of holes in what I make and I can't do a very clean, super detailed drawing unless it's for an art class and I'm forced to keep working on it. I have a terrible habit of never proofreading my things!

What's your favorite type of scene to write?

AAH hard question! I love writing description and places where I can really let my inner 19th century romantic be unleashed but I also love a good emotional moment between two characters. Something tense. I like fight scenes, but I try to keep them brief and interesting. Sometimes I find scenes where I have no idea what's going on and I try to avoid that, but it's really hard sometimes.

What's the hardest for you to create?

I have so much trouble with endings. I can generally figure something out, but there's always a moment of panic before the end like "heck I wrote everything I wanted how do I wrap this up????" That's probably a byproduct of me planning nothing XD I sometimes have trouble with characterization and making sure everyone acts the way they actually would. The hardest part is continuing after you have an "oh heck what do I do now" moment that breaks you out of your zone and all of your ideas and plot threads turn invisible or evaporate or go wherever it is they go when you're looking for them.

What's your favorite genre to write?

ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST. Wellll... scratch that. I love something adventure-y and plot driven with a lot of really meaningful character interactions. I've always had trouble putting my writing into genres, but I guess that kind of speaks for itself in a way.

What fandoms do you enjoy creating for?

Linked Universe is the fandom I have created and posted the most for by a LONG SHOT. I found LU shortly after making my tumblr and I joined the Discord shortly thereafter. Since then, it has been nonstop inspiration and creativity for me! I tend to get sucked into one fandom and it consumes me for a few months before I silently drift out of it and never think about it again. LU is the fandom I've been the most active in EVER though—and it's still going—so there's a good chance I'm never getting off this ride.

What's the work you are most proud of?

AAAAAAAAAAH MY BABIES. okay um here's the first and only fanfic I've ever posted anywhere but I'm really happy with: https://sky-squido.tumblr.com/post/618964544219463680/turn-back-time-a-linked-universe-fanfic I have a lot of other pieces kicking about, but they're not fandom so I haven't shared them yet. I probably will after I touch them up a bit.

Do you have any fics inspired by real life stories?

Not really? I don't really know where my ideas come from to be honest!

Where do you post your finished works?

my tumblr. I tag stuff #squido writes and #squido draws so you can find them easily. I also put them on the discord but they get lost in the stream of other works pretty quickly so stick to my tumblr. I also have an ao3 now! https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_squido

If you have any fun stories about the pieces you made, please do share!

Turn Back Time was actually live written in the Discord, but entirely unplanned and in the #angst channel! It was just a headcanon but then I started describing it and like 2 hours and 5k words later I'm sitting in the Discord like "what just happened??"

[a5tr0n0m1cal]

Hiii! I was wondering if I could request a mha matchup? And I’ve never seen undertale matchups so I might request a ut matchup after this too :)) Ok a lot of people say I’m rlly sweet, patient, and understanding, but with the right people i can be very talkative and a little sassy sometimes. I ALWAYS make jokes and I always find the humor in everything. Everyone also says I’m very laid back. I’m ambitious and I’m a COMPLETE perfectionist. I’m always just in my own world and people call me out on me zoning out because I’m just head in the clouds (unless it’s sports then I’m very focused) ok I LOVE basketball and drawing and both of which I want to be successful in, listening to music, nighttime, sports in general, day dreaming and doodling. I dislike bugs, public speaking, and pictures of myself. The only thing that really makes me mad is when I fail or make a mistake, but I only get mad at myself so I’ve never gotten mad at anyone else, I’m very patient. My biggest fear is failure, not living up to expectations, and abandonment. Thank you so much you’re amazing!! :))

(Feel free to request an undertale one! I wouldn’t mind at all. Also, the age range wasn’t specified so I made you a student hope that’s ok!)

I match you up with.....Hitoshi Shinsou! (One of my faves UwU)

You met in quite a hilarious fashion. You regularly fed a stray that often wandered near the UA dorms. You didn’t really have a name for him, so every time you called for said cat it was just, “Here, kitty kitty kitty!” You had a small pan in your hands and was walking down the little alleyway between buildings when you bumped into him. 

“Oof.”

You blinked and looked to see that you had totally just smushed tuna all over this boy's chest. Crap crap craaaaaaap! “Watch where you’re going.” Was his immediate response. It was firm, but not harsh. “I am SO sorry!” You apologized profusely to the purple-haired boy. He glanced down at his now ruined uniform. “Great.” He sighed. 

“Mrrrow?”

It was the stray! You quickly explained to him that it was an accident and that you were actually here to feed the stray. He put his hand behind his neck. “Eh. It’s alright, I guess.” He said, though he still didn’t seem too thrilled with his predicament. “Didn't know anyone else looked out for her as well. That’s good to know.” You blinked. “She? I always thought it was a male!” He crouched down and rubbed the cat’s ear affectionately. “Yeah, she.” He said. The cat was practically drooling, trying to crawl up his shirt to get the scraps of food still plastered to his chest. “I can like...totally pay for the dry cleaning or whatever!” You proclaimed, wanting to make it up to him somehow. He glanced at you. “Don’t worry about it.” He said, standing up to full height. “See you later.” He said, walking off, most likely to get a change of clothes. *Cue frustrated internal screaming at yourself*

The next time you saw him, you handed him a small box. “What’s this?” He asked, eyebrow raised in question. “An apology. From me.” You stated. 

“I thought I told you I-....” He stopped when he saw what it was. 

“A...cat cafe coupon?” He asked, raising the small glittering paper into the air. “Well, I thought since you like cats....ya know....” You trailed off. Did he not like it? He let out a small puff of air, an amused smile on his face. “Thanks.” He said, tucking it into his pants pocket. 

This is what starts your guy’s relationship. (At first anyway). He actually saw you when tending to the stray again, and said you might as well go with him to the cafe. If you wanted to that is. Of course, you agreed! (You really wanted to go as well!) It was a nice and quiet evening at the cafe. Cats everywhere. It was amazing. (Plus the coffee/tea was amazing there). You even got complimentary cookies in the shape of cat paws! It was sundown when you guys headed back to the dorms. “That was fun.” You stated. He hummed in response, tired purple eyes glancing at you. “I’ll pay next time.” He said. You raised an eyebrow. “But didn’t you pay this time?” Waitdidhesaynexttime- 

“Technically, you paid for this with that coupon you gave me.” He smirked.

That’s how you two officially got together. He tricked you into going on a date with him. Plenty more cat cafe dates followed that one (Now that you knew they were dates!) Your relationship is very healthy. You two shoot jokes back and forth all the time, and when you’re not together it’s memes via text. Sometimes he might trick you when your zoning out by asking you a question, then brainwashing you. (He always releases you afterward though, he never makes you do anything.) He’ll come to all of your sports if you agree to let him watch. He likes to see you so determined. He’s got his own ambitions of becoming a hero after all. He relates to you very much when it comes to failure. 

He failed to get in the hero course and it frustrates him! You two remind the other that it’s ok, and to pick yourself up! (We stan an encouraging tired boy). He makes his intentions and emotions very plain to you. You won’t have to worry about him abandoning you. He’s made it very clear he’s here to stay. 

(You think I’m amazing? Awww, thanks! You’re amazing too! Hope you like the match up!)

[nerdypanda3126]

It’s Complicated - Ch. 1

What happens when you cross a black cat, a designer, a guitarist, and a fencer? The answer is it’s complicated. Chat Noir stops by to help Marinette with her design block, but when he discovers the design is for Luka he has to figure out why that bothers him. Surely it’s because she’s a very good friend, right? Meanwhile, Marinette struggles with letting Adrien go and figuring out why Chat Noir is suddenly acting so differently... 

This story takes place shortly after Miracle Queen, so everyone’s still a little confused. 

Read on Ao3 Ch. 2

Chapter 1: Design Block

Marinette groans as she scribbles over yet another design, and rips yet another sheet of paper out of her sketchbook, crumpling it before tossing it to the ground among the many others. Nothing is working. This piece has to be finished by this weekend so she can give it to Luka before he goes onstage with Kitty Section, but she can’t even get a vision of what she needs to be sewing. Her head is too full to think straight.

“Maybe you should take a break?” Tikki asks, floating hesitantly in front of her. Marinette considers it, but then she shakes her head.

“One more try, Tikki. I promise.”

She bends her head back over her sketchbook, letting her thoughts flow onto the page. She keeps Luka’s stage character, his colors and his mask, in mind as she draws. Her mind drifts to the small smile he gets when he plays. The bright blue of his eyes when they flick open to glance at her in his audience. The songs he’s played for her in the few moments they’ve had together. He always manages to play the song she needs to hear.

When she looks down at her work, blinking out of her design trance, she finds that she’s covered the paper in hearts. Oh no. This can’t- she doesn’t- it’s not like that. She takes a deep breath. His voice echoes in her mind. 

You can be yourself with me, you know. Just yourself.

She glances at her screensaver: a picture of Adrien she couldn’t bear to take down. She touches her fingertips to his bright smile. Her heart twinges. Hard. She still sees him in class, of course. And that has gotten easier. They’re still friends, after all. Alya isn’t a fan of this new plan, obviously, but she respects it. Marinette has noticed that Alya has subtly been rearranging their hangouts. She appreciates the thought, she really does, but she does miss Adrien. Maybe she should invite him to the concert this weekend.

Her eyes travel to the hiding spot where she’s tucked the Miraculous box. Boys should really be the last thing on her mind. She tears the page out of her sketchbook with a sigh and crumples it, throwing it behind her. She’ll clean this mess up and try again tomorrow.

When she looks around for Tikki, the kwami isn’t anywhere in sight. It’s not normal for her to just disappear unless –

Chat rakes his claws against the glass of her window. The sound makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and she grits her teeth as she gets up to let him in.

“Why do you do that? You know I hate it.”

“And that’s why I do it.” He grins rakishly as he steps inside, spinning his baton over his palm before he latches it to his back. She slumps back into her desk chair. He wouldn’t be here unless something were bothering him. She can hold off going to sleep a bit longer.

Chat’s brow furrows when his boots hit the floor and he sees that it’s littered with her failed attempts. He moves to pick one up out of curiosity.

“Chat, don’t. Seriously, it’s not good.”

He smirks as he smooths out the paper, but she’s scribbled out every design she’s tried, so she knows he can’t see what she was working on. He picks up another from the floor, but it’s the same result.

“Design block?” He tilts his head at her and one of his cat ears flops over. She nods, then curls onto her desk chair, setting her chin on her arms. “Maybe I could help? I know a thing or two about this stuff.”

“Maybe? I don’t know,” she says.

“What are you trying to make?”

“Menswear.”

“Have you ever done menswear before?”

She shrugs. She’s not going to mention the mound of gifts she’s made for Adrien that are in the chest behind him, still waiting to be presented. Mostly accessories. “I’ve dabbled.”

“Well, talk me through it.” He crosses his ankle over his knee and leans forward. “What’s the occasion?”

“It’s supposed to be stage wear, but also something that could be casual.”

“Who are you designing for? Like, who’s your guy?”

The tips of her ears heat up when she thinks about the hearts she hadn’t meant to draw. “I don't think I should tell you. You might know him.”

“Oh, so it’s a specific ‘him’, then?” Chat asks, his cat ears perking. “Who is this ‘him'?” She starts to stammer an excuse, but he waves her off. “Just throw me some adjectives.”

“Well…um, he’s…nice.”

Chat’s lips quirk in amusement. “I can’t help with just ‘nice’. Keep going.”

She pauses to think. Chat and Luka have met a few times now. But it's not like Chat knows him well enough to guess who it is off a vague description. It should be safe. “He’s laid-back. Quiet, even though he has a lot to say. Patient. Perceptive. He keeps his nails painted black. He likes Jagged Stone, and he plays the guitar. And he’s sweet. Very sweet.” She hadn’t realized while she was talking that she had started smiling, and her cheeks are starting to burn.

“Luka,” he breathes, “you’re making something for Luka.”

She tries to hide her surprise. He got it on the first try. How well does Chat know Luka, anyways? No, don't think about it, that's dangerously close to identity territory. She clears her throat. “Um, yeah, it’s for Luka. The band is performing this weekend.”

Chat stands from the chaise and paces to the other side of her room. She’s seen him irritated a few times now, and she can tell by the tense curve in his shoulders and the way his tail is flicking around his calves that something she’s said has bothered him. She watches him as he seems to try to get ahold of himself. It only takes him a moment or two before he drops into his feline crouch and sidles back to her.“So, this design, it’s for a concert?” He’s slipped into his professional problem-solving tone, like when they’re brainstorming how to defeat an akuma. She can’t place her finger on why she finds this odd.

She hesitates before she answers. “Yeah, just the band and a few friends. Nothing big. Kitty Section usually draws a crowd along the banks of the river, though. I thought that maybe I could make something different for Luka to wear on stage. Something more him.”

She can’t bring herself to mention that she also wants to thank him for being there for her. She had broken down in his arms when everything had fallen on her shoulders and he held her and told her it would be okay. She hadn’t known how much she needed that until he gave it to her. The least she could do is make him something thoughtful.

Chat has recovered only slightly. He picks up another of her crumpled sketches off the floor and starts to smooth the wrinkles open with the pads of his thumbs, lingering on the corners. Her pulse speeds up when she notices it’s the one she had been working on right before he walked in. At least there’s actually an attempt at a design on there for him to look at. Hopefully he doesn’t tease her too much about the hearts. He runs a hand over the paper, tracing her wispy pencil marks and probably trying to make sense of it.

“It’s a jacket?”

“I was playing with the idea.” She knows her cheeks are turning bright red. “I thought that might be the easiest for him to work into his stage costume. If he wanted to.”

Chat nods, reading her fabric and color annotations. “It’s a good idea. I like this here, the hood you had.”

“I got that off of those hooded character towels.” Her blush is deepening every second he holds that paper. She tries to take it out of his hands. He hasn’t said anything yet about her doodles, but she knows it’s coming.

He catches her wrist, taking the paper back from her, and a grin spreads across his face.

“Chat, give that back.”

“Nope. I’m going to take it home and frame it.” He jumps up out of her reach when she lunges for the paper. “These hearts are for me, right? Or are they for Luuuuka?”

Yup, she knew that had been coming. She tries again to get the sketch away from him, but he’s too fast, keeping it just out of her reach.

“Will you autograph it for me? I want to keep it for when you’re famous.” He clutches it to his chest as if it’s precious to him. She can see the challenge in his eyes. For a moment neither one of them moves as they size each other up.

Then Marinette tackles him, catching him around his midsection and throwing him down to the chaise. He wraps an arm around her as they fall, still trying to protect her even when she’s trying to fight him. Typical. She grabs for the sketch as she rolls away from him, but Chat wriggles it out of her grasp. Quicker than she can follow, he’s up into a crouch position on the chaise, the sketch dangling from his claws. Taunting her.

She lunges for it again, but he jumps back, his feet landing on the floor on the other side of the chaise. With an impish grin, he holds the sketch above his head, to the full extent of his reach. She refuses to jump for it. He knows he’s won. She can see it written across his face, that victory grin and his bright eyes.

“You’re supposed to be helping me!” She picks up the pillow from the chaise and throws it at him. He dodges it easily, laughing.

He clears his throat, his smirk still lingering. “Alright, alright. So, something special for the stage, but casual enough to wear regularly. Laid-back like he is, but that makes him stand out.” He lists the criteria off and glances down at the sketch still in his hands. She’s surprised at how much he had actually been paying attention. “It’s a tall order,” he says.

“He’s a tall order.” Marinette slaps a hand over her mouth as the words leave her. The response had flown out of her before she thought it through. She knows she’s blushing all the way to the roots of her hair. Chat’s eyes can’t possibly be any bigger.

There’s an awkward pause between them. Strange, considering nothing has ever been awkward with Chat before. He blinks at her and clears his throat again, coughing to cover it. His cat ears flatten against his head and his belt tail droops.

“Uh, it’s late. I… I should go.” He lays her crumpled sketch on her desk next to her. “I think you should go with this. It suits him.” He gives her a small smile before he slinks up the ladder to her skylight and pulls himself onto her balcony.

She’s too stunned at his sincerity for a moment to follow him, but when she does, he’s already run off into the night.

[buri-art]

May 10, 2019. A crack fanartist of the Tumblr AkaYona community disappeared.

While some have accepted her prior statements about “being busy moving and starting a new career” and “wanting to focus on writing original novels” her other statements about “craving a mental juice cleanse from social media” leave the impression that she went willingly. Rumors state her ghost made an appearance, and even skeptics have noted the evidence left in her March 2020 archive.

Today, we bring you the latest update.

June 26, 2020:

 ---

( ° ∀ ° )ﾉﾞ‘Sup~~~~ Well, it’s been a year, and the Ask Box is back open, but don’t get excited yet, I’ll come back to the art topic in a moment. I have indeed been happy with being a social media hermit, but it’s not bad to drop in here and there. Here’s a general update:

No, no, I haven’t totally quit writing! But it would be totally dodging reality if I didn’t come out and admit why I am currently unable to produce any original or AkaYona content. 

You guys, I’ve got it so bad. Like, this is the most mainstream thing I’ve been into since Digimon was on Fox Kids, but it is seriously everywhere. Not only does that keep it on my mind almost constantly, but I have money now. All a candy company needs to do to get me to buy something I had no interest in is slap a favorite character or two on the package (and those candies were disgusting, yet I did not regret that purchase).

Now, besides giving myself permission to set aside the writing I made progress on, I have generally been on an art slump. I still doodle, but I feel like my art has gotten much worse. Back when I was active drawing for the AkaYona fandom, I never had a lack of things to draw; no matter how dumb the joke or uninspired the art, I always knew I had an audience. 

Now that I have chosen generally not to have any social media audience, there is some pressure to draw “nice” art with wide appeal that I could show anybody. And I’ve drawn, what, maybe three pieces like that? In general, even if I do want to draw, I just don’t have any ideas, and I feel very out of practice. Now, yes, that does bring me back to KnY, but hold your horses, this isn’t turning into a KnY Tumblr!! My watchers are here for AkaYona, not sudden KnY spoilers!! But, yes, I did get a few dumb ideas, and when I get dumb ideas, I draw them, and I made a separate Tumblr to post them so that no one would get spoiled. Now, the really funny part is that my KnY art has virtually gone completely unnoticed for most of its existence out there on the web. XDD Which is fine, there is a lot of good content out there for this fandom, and I’m not used to drawing these characters, so it felt awkward anyway. Let’s return to writing for a moment. Seeing as I have been obsessed with KnY but also generally not getting involved in fandoms, that leaves me to scream at people who know me irl (teeheehee, sorry) about how much I love it, and while telling a friend how much I suffered after reading Chapter 201, and a few ideas I had on how Shueisha might drag the series out or force a sequel, she gave me a tiiiiiiiiiiny bit of encouragement that she would be an audience if I wrote that AU, and 10 days later, I HAD THE WHOLE 60K+ FIC WRITTEN BECAUSE I AM A MONSTER. No, seriously, I didn’t even think for the first couple days that I would actually write it, and then I got a slew of more ideas, and then when I hit my stride, I HAD A DAY WHEN I AM PRETTY SURE I WROTE 20K WORDS WITHIN 20 HOURS AND I AM SO UPSET I DIDN’T PAY MORE ATTENTION TO MEASURE THAT BECAUSE I’M PRETTY SURE THAT WOULD BE A PERSONAL RECORD.

Phew, so anyway. I would like to say I was human again after finishing BUT NOPE, I WAS STILL IN THAT HEAD SPACE AND STARTING COMING UP WITH STUPID JOKES TO BREAK THE TENSION IN MY OWN FANFIC and then I started drawing dumb omake. And then as I kept drawing, I found it. I found my flow again. I actually put some effort into some of those omake. I really liked how they came out. I mean, no one cares about silly omake doodles for an AU fanfic, but I HAD SO MUCH FUN, and that is what McFreakin’ counts.

And that is what brings me back here.

If you are a Kimetsu no Yaiba fan and have read the whole manga, here is my canon divergent AU fic, and there are links to my other Tumblr in each chapter. I’m a liiiittle eager for comments because I am a monster and this is part of what social media does to monsters, but the whole dang thing is already written and I love it anyway even without an audience. But for those of you who would just like to see AkaYona art, or more general Buri-art, that is why I will probably occasionally pop back in here. Like I said, the Ask Box is open, but I won’t check it regularly and will only draw things if I feel inclined. I am also playing with the idea of doing Inktober again this year, and since I have zero interest in Twitter or Instagram, the art would get posted here.

┐(︶▽︶)┌ That is all. Thank you for reading my rambles! See you around a little more at random?

[someone-always-cares]

chapter 4, page 18

first - previous - next

[image description: an sac webcomic page. a minute later, the caption reads, rami and lewis are outside the classroom in a hallway. rami looks over to lewis and almost sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. “sorry. for getting involved there. you... you looked really freaked out.”

“n-no, I- uh. thanks! thank you!” lewis stammers, flustered, and blushing. “um... what was he yelling about anyway? i...” lewis stumbles over his words, this time seeming more awkward than flustered.”

“what the fuck am i even supposed to tell him?” he thinks to himself, frozen. “‘sorry me secret superpowers fucked up me hearing to stop the possibility of me shattering my own fucking eardrums, so i can’t hear loud sounds anymore’. yeah, that’ll go down well.” he looks rather nervous, hand raised in the middle of some kind of gesture.

behind him he pictures himself, from the waist up in full super costume, screaming like hes going super saiyan, or possibly a really intense shit. his fists are clenched and his fanged mouth open in a scream. his hair and eyes are in an icy blue, wearing a blue jumpsuit with a lighter blue sleeveless hoodie, and dark grey fingerless gloves. behind him is a glowing soundwave. end id]

fun idea for people planning on making their own webcomic: make sure you know what you’re getting into timewise because i did not expect it to take 3 years for lewis, one of the protaganists, so be seen in super costume (although did have that little doodle at the end of the proglogue i guess)

anyway: these organizations and charities could still really use your money right now

cash bail funds (us and toronto)

MN organizations

a masterpost of BLM links

various black lgbt+ funds

donation and petitions

BLM UK

runnymede

stop hate uk

racial justice network

BLM carrd

black lives matter doc

several of these also include useful resources eg petitions, information about protests, educating yourself and others, ect, so worth a look even if you cant donate

or if you cant spare money:

passively donate money via youtube ad revanue by watching these videos

additional videos

tab for a cause: similar to above but the ad revanue comes from just opening a new tab

support black creators

drawing while black dictionary

cartoonists database

and since we’re all nerds here

24 lgbt+ books by black authors

65 lgbt books by black authors

various fiction podcasts by creators of colour

while i could not find a compilation of webcomics, cartoonists database can be searched by cartoonist, writer, and more!

(for anyone reading comic backlogues, at the time of writing it is june 6th, 2020, this could mean some of the links may not work in the future. however many are updated regularly and may still need your help. if youre reading this in the future, look into what you can do to help in your present)

[anxiouslyfred]

Death and Clouds, Everything Soulmates

@loveceit it’s saying something when I literally forgot I threw in 15 as when they get the poems and now can’t see that as being anything but Humans wanting a set age when they should know the poems by.

In the story I’ve got Dee’s poems written down, but the thing is, We’ve got 4 otherwise immortal beings in the story, one of which was literally around when the land was coming back into large continents after breaking apart. The poems are recorded by the person they’re for.

The only rules with the poems are that you will have a 4 line poem for every soulmate you have and if you have multiple and they are shared the rhyme schemes will match. That’s actually how Remus and Virgil realised they were soulmates, because their poems for Dee both have exactly the same rhyme scheme, down to the sound that’s being rhymes.

Most people will get their soulmate poems by hearing them. It’ll be a whisper in their ear, often happening for days anytime they are alone so they can’t mistake it as someone around them saying the poem. For the deaf or auditory impaired, it almost comes as automatic writing or drawing. If they aren’t literate they will get an illustration that makes up their rhyme and find themselves doodling it while alone, and only that, if they can write though then it will be words they can’t stop writing down.

Early on most people would memorise their poems, and repeat them in a whisper as they head to bed and wake each morning. As society progressed however more people keep them written down in some form. There are soul paintings, embroideries and all sorts of ways people have recorded the poems for themselves. Dee just got some nice parchment and tried to do calligraphy for each of the poems he heard.

Anyways, onto our Trio’s poems

Dee’s Poems

Given you’ve already read these in the story lets start here.

The poem that was about Virgil (and shit how did I get their pronouns wrong for their poem Dammit):

He watched the lands form again

And runs before he can remain.

When overwhelmed he is gone,

But never together alone.

Virgil by the time they meet Dee had become a God to various humans hundreds of times and each time suffered the consequences, so instead if they ever do encounter a human they even slightly gets along with they will disappear from them completely. I did for a while think of having Dee live a little longer knowing them and encountering this abandonment  but that just felt mean in all honesty. Plus wouldn’t exactly make sense given I knew from early on that it would be a panic reaction from Virgil that killed Dee.

We covered in the last post just how old Virgil is, but what I forgot when talking about them is that their initial panic response beyond lightning strikes is literally vanishing. They’ll still be wherever they were when it happened, but nobody will be able to see or tell, beyond perhaps a bit of a draft moving through the room. Remus, and I think Dee, will be able to know where they are when this happens, in fact a little scene that didn’t fit involved Remus climbing on furniture going “Couldn’t find me blustery?” when first trying to calm Virgil enough to have a cloud form.

Virgil is fairly literally rarely alone now, because they will seek out their family and friends where possible.

The poem that was about Remus:

Not as old as one supposes

Still younger than the hills.

Crimes are what he composes,

Anarchy what he wills.

Dee has been living with his best friends being a demon and a vampire where all he really knows age wise is that they are Old, and for some reason for both Virgil and Remus I like’d the idea of putting some form of age marker in both poems about them.

Anarchy is literally the first identifying thing Dee says about Remus, and while the poems are in no way clear about who they are referred to they are meant to be understood within a short time of meeting your soulmate. If there’s much that can identify Remus in an instant it would be anarchy and crime. 

His first conversation with Dee went basically as below, after Remy was knocked out

R: Now that buzzkills sorted, what does he think you need me for?

D: You’re not Roman. Who?

R: Remus, his brother. Are you a killer?

D: No

R: Thief? Some other sort of criminal?

D: Talk show host, much as politicians like to say donations are a crime.

R: Well I’m stumped, nothing I can do for you. What were you talking about?

Yeah if Dee didn’t have his mind on Virgil’s poem in that moment he might have started wondering about his other soulmate before dying.

Virgil’s Poems Next

okay now you get to judge if I actually did match the rhyme schemes up cause I think there’s one where I didn’t completely

Virgil’s about Remus:

Older than can first be seen,

More unpredictable than the Earth,

Destroying royal power is his queen

Madness rules his hearth.

Virgil and Remus met long before capitalism and the power hungry using those methods, but there was definitely still unfair civilisations and a lot of corrupt monarchs, which Remus took infinite distaste to. Kinda wanna write a short thing about this later so won’t say much more on that. 

As old as Virgil gets before making his family, it’s easy for him to think Remus must be a newly turned demon, but actually at that point Roman and Remus have been demons for 6 or 7 centuries although that’s only learnt after he meets Roman.

fairly sure the madness doesn’t need spelling out for Remus.

Virgil’s about Dee:

Others first will recognise,

His death no such disguise.

Still he offers hundreds his prize

Before finally free to the skies.

The first two lines are basically going, your soulmate is going to die and someone else will know they’re your soulmate before you. I did want to include comments about disguises because the way Dee views his talk show personality is as a disguise, perhaps it’s a helping people disguise, or a lecturing corrupt people disguise but either way very much hiding his personality.

The talk of prizes comes from that too, given Roman probably has spoken about Dee before Remus or Virgil meet him, they’d have heard about his show and the gifts or prizes he’s constantly giving out.

I wanted Dee to be able to relax and be free as a ghost and with his soulmates. Literally I want him to at least be able to fly with the wind thanks to Virgil’s powers

Finally Remus’s poems

Remus’s about Dee:

Confrontation he defies,

Breaking power imbalance tries.

Watch his words for the lies

As all too soon he dies.

With Dee once more I was trying to make it so they would have a chance of recognising in the first meeting if it wasn’t for other things having their attention. Remus did literally face Dee racing to lay on his bed to try and stop him getting the poem from under his mattress. If there’s a way to avoid confrontation, whether yelling, or physical, then Dee is going to take it.

I definitely wanted the death in their poems about Dee so here is is again, but I don’t have much more of an explanation for this one beyond the ways Dee interacts with the world regularly.

Remus’s about Virgil:

He watched the mountains growing tall,

And burrowed beneath them all.

He’ll disappear for noise and people,

But keeps love safer than any steeple.

Okay for some reason I always think of Steeples as safehouses, towers on churches meant to protect or hide people in them. That’s why I used that because I was thinking of Virgil and Remus meeting in a European area sometime after the catholic church raised to power, possibly late Tudor period. Wiki search doesn’t support how I’ve thought of them but meh, I’ve written it now.

One of the places Virgil will retreat from the world after any amount of people have turned against him is caverns, some of which he was the original cause for, but later got claimed as hide outs by demons before they started just integrating into human society. So yay, bringing his age and his likelihood to avoid people into the poem as well.

Other Soulmate related things

Remy and Roman do have another soulmate they are looking for, but I never wrote them any poems at all regarding each other or their third. I was thinking it could be either Patton or Emile but never settled on who.

When Remy was a guest on Deceit’s show there had been arguments over the validity of polyam soulmates that week and Remy was very strongly for the support of them, claiming he had multiple himself. Dee cornered him after the show to ask if he knew both and say he also had 2 he’d never met. That’s when Remy and Roman make it their goal to match-make for this human specifically

[nyrator]

random exploration of thoughts while I’m sleep deprived/post-migraine and aspirin’d up

mainly about gifts/migraine thoughts and random art idea

sleep is weird, keep debating fixing it, but then never wanting to actually commit to going to bed. Going to try to sleep at 4AM tonight, at least. Essentially stayed up all night last night, though, with a few semi-conscious naps during the day.

Kresna got me a weighted blanket to help with my anxiety, which was really nice. I’m curious to see how it may help. Between the blanket and my body being exhausted from getting back into Ring Fit for the past three days, it feels very easy to just melt into bed. Wondering if I should sleep with it regularly or not.

he also got me that Kondo manga about tidying up because I am a mess lately (rippp), but shout outs to him, he a good and he does his best to take care of me.

Been feeling guilty about Christmas honestly- time left my hands and the original gift idea I had took way too long to ship (was estimated to arrive between Dec 6th-Jan 11th, I was gambling it’d ship earlier rather than later, but realizing it’s most likely going to arrive after Christmas), so once I got confirmation that it shipped and would more likely be there in January than December, I decided to go with plan B- get him a proper gift that he could still open on Christmas day and have the other gift be his birthday present instead.

But I took too long to figure out what to get him, and when it finally hit me, the deadline was already close, and the item I wanted to get him was out of stock for a few days. I also thought it’d be a good idea to wrap it- it felt like just sending him an Amazon box wasn’t the same, it wouldn’t have the same heart behind it. So I ordered it anyway, and it said it’d be back and stock and arrive by tomorrow (today? Wednesday), which was very late, but I was still hopeful- If I used GXG shipping, it’d get there in 1-3 business days, which is very expensive ($100+), but it’d be there on time. But it just sat there, never shipping, until today, and now arriving Friday, Amazon tells me. Meaning, I don’t think there’s any way for me to get him a gift he can open on Christmas, and I have only my own poor time management to blame.

My one hope is that the first gift miraculously arrives on time, but given covid, holidays, and the fact that it’s shipping from Australia to Canada, I have my doubts. But we shall see...

but yes, in other news

main thing I felt like ranting about was migraines and also creating things

So had a partial migraine today randomly, usually I feel the aura and know I’m probably getting one the moment I wake up, but today it just happened the moment I stopped playing a game (good ol’ 100% Orange Juice), and it’s interesting trying to analyze my headache/migraine stuffs. The way my head feels is interesting- It’s always behind the left eye, always feels like it goes from either my sinuses or the nerves in the back of my neck to that eye. And my head is very... mentally tense?

It’s like, when I try to relax my face and neck, clear my thoughts, I feel just how tightly wound my thoughts are. I hear five different 100% OJ tracks playing at the same time, I hear all the character voices talking at the same time, and it’s like a slideshow in my head- the game is fast paced of course, that might have something to do with it, but it felt like games were just playing back in my memories on fast forward, all in a single instant. As well as thoughts about other things, personal things, creating things, the Christmas gift, it’s all so tightly wound in my subconscious going at a mile a minute.

It feels like my brain gets overstimulated, I guess is the best way to describe it. I still don’t know what causes it exactly- I’ve been playing OJ for three days, and the first two days were completely fine, but maybe lack of sleep had something to do with today. Maybe chocolate intake? I did increase my eating habits a bit, then lowered them a little bit, but from like no bars a day to four-five bars a day to 2-3 bars a day (by bars I mean those little bite sized bars).

And of course, then I just can’t think at all- Getting stressed while talking might also play a factor, maybe. Was stressing out a bit mentally, and by the time I hung up, I realized the headache was there. And then wanting to talk more via text, but not being able to articulate any thoughts, it’s weird and makes me feel bad. Feels like I blow people off when I have a migraine, but my head is genuinely just so stuffed that I can’t even think.

Which brings me to the creative thing I’ve been trying to think of.

I know the main flaw of mine is that I haven’t tried writing in a while. The kind of art I want to make is art with a story behind it, and I stopped thinking up stories. Today, an idea came into my head, a longer term art project, or series of small art projects I suppose. Of course, because my migraine, I just couldn’t think of anything at all but the migraine itself, there was no room for any creativity, and that was a bit saddening today.

But anyway, my idea- Mentioned how I’ve been inspired by that Diva aka twitter nun/duck artist lately, how they have so many detailed, daily pieces, each with their own story. I am not at that level. But if I could just think of small stories like that, to portray in pictures- Specifically with my console-tan designs. There are a lot of characters that can interact in a variety of ways, and there’s a lot of material to derive things from since they’re parodies of video game consoles.

Of course, I just actually need to sit down and think of these stories, write a bunch of random ideas, and just start doodling them. Maybe make it a weekly thing, or a “whenever I feel like it thing”, though most likely that means two or three pieces if that, and then dropping off and forgetting about it.

But I have essentially every Nintendo design made minus a few handheld variations, and all of the major 6th gen consoles essentially designed, so hm... I still should design a PSP/Vita, though, as well as Genesis/Saturn and 360/One. Newer consoles I like to wait a year on, but I feel PS5 has a very distinct look that I’d like to try to draw. I should do more research into the SG-1000 and Master System as well, and the Game Gear, and Nomad...

and anyway, I should do something with these designs and bounce personalities back and forth somehow

It’s 4AM, so I should start heading to bed, but that’s my ramble for the nightt