#EXTREMELY FAST SKETCH!

[calwasfound]

ticking time bomb!

[hinata-boke]

Drawing a randomly generated Haikyuu character (almost) every day until I give up

87. Tsukishima Kei

[artbytesslyn]

just a small flesh sacrifice

[sweeneydino]

Behold

Gremlin baby Dai.

Can you and your peepaws resist his creature charms?

[turrondeluxe]

Miguel Rizz O'Hara

[yael-art-den]

fat bisexual men save me... save me fat biseuxal men..

[yourclown4107]

If I suddenly become a furry, it's Bradley Uppercrust's fault!!!! I'm fixated on this cartoon, I can't think of anything else, please help me, or only lobotomy will be able to help me soon

Если я резко стану фурри, это вина Брэдли Апперкраста!!!! У меня фиксация на этот мультик, я уже думать не могу ни о чём другом, помогите пжлста, а то мне скоро только лоботомия поможет

[toastedjeans]

So uh. I saw that one ask Gooseworx got about Kinger's weapon of choice. And had to draw this.

Featuring angel Kinger cause yes

Original meme underneath

Wow that's blurry oops

[hydrangeyes]

*has been playing stardew valley again and now has intense thoughts and ideas on sebastian and if he wasn't judged or brushed off as lazy making him retreat and stick to himself for the most part*

[liftfox]

This I guess is gonna be a fairly rambley post where I discuss some of the ideas I have for a a thing that might (?) become some sort of TTRPG campaign or just its own thing. Also it's an excuse to get some of my older art out there. I guess straight away strong warning for body horror, gore, eyestrain, and light warning for vomitting.

So Toby and Corneliya are the only characters involved in this mess that are super developed and happen to also be the main "victims" of what I'm terming as "angellic corruption". (Art below of each character, in order. Really need to do some updates on Toby in general.)

Essentially, this is just an extension on the concept that powerful creatures influence the environment around them. This is a pretty common idea in relation to things like dragons in DnD, but I'm aiming to extend this to literally everything. Angels, demons, etc.; I'm just focusing on angels here because it's the only one currently relevant to what I'm concepting.

Angellic corruption is the process of creatures and people starting to mutate to better mimic an angellic form. In this instance, the forms generally associated with the goddess of justice/revenge, which is a lot of classic angel motifs, stone, blood, and self mutilation (y'know like how justice is blind and it's an eye for an eye, very funny).

This is a segway into heavy body horror.

The way I have things thought out at the moment, the first signs are things like small mammals and fish being weirdly feathery and stony, with the next to be afflicted being those with closest contact to the source of the corruption. Corneliya and Toby are those closest to the source, as Corneliya is very actively doing as she's told to eradicate "injustice" through using Toby to kill a LOT of people. Problem: being in such contact also means Corneliya is going literally insane, so she's not all that concerned about any of this. Toby is a fairly normal dude however, and a doctor tends to notice things like vomiting and growing feathers, and is actively concerned about wtf is happening. Thus, these sketches:

So you end up with a situation where the head of the church is hiding the fact her costume stopped being a costume a few weeks ago, the wildlife are shooting spikes at people and are generally in massive amounts of pain, and the only one who an inkling of what's happening is Toby. A man who's been blackmailed into this whole affair and might be too late at the point where he starts actually noticing this stuff to actually do anything about it.

Fun!

[loudclan-clangen]

Loudclan - Moon 28: Part 2

As the sun sets on the last moon of spring Chumpaw and Rosehippaw are acting suspicious...

Chumpaw is honored for her bravery as she earns her warrior name at 15 moons old and is now called Chumtail! She has gone from charismatic to wise.

Rosehippaw is honored for her perseverance as she earns her warrior name at 13 moons old and is now called Rosehiptree! She has gone from righteous to shameless.

At the same ceremony:

Dashpaw is apprenticed to Dogwoodmoth. He is extremely excited to train with such a talented warrior! As he's grown, he has gone from quiet to confident.

Dancepaw is apprenticed to Peakpatch. He is less than happy with this choice, and his mentor isn't very enthusiastic either. Both of them hope that Chumtail will chose to involve herself in his training more often than not. As he's grown, he has gone from inquisitive to strict.

Finally Songpaw is apprenticed to Wildfirecry. While his training is not as exciting as his brother's he feels a weight lifted off of him, though his lineage still finds other ways to haunt him. As he's grown, he has gone from sweet to responsible.

Songpaw has seemingly inherited a form of ghost sight from his mother. It can make it hard to study at times.

[*glances nervously at my inbox* this is gonna be a... controversial moon. /lighthearted. Hey, I remembered to draw whiskers this time! Yay! Owlstar stop giving Peakpatch apprentices please I'm begging you. Owlstar do not entrust the training of your heir to a 13 moon old warrior please. Owlstar make a good decision for once in your life. I managed to get this moon done fast cause I was really excited to draw the next moon. I don't have the whole sketch done so I'm not sure exactly how long it is but moon 29 is gonna be BIG. I'd like to not break it up too much, but that might mean a little bit more time until it comes out. Otherwise, Dogwoodmoth and Rosehiptree family tree coming soon!]

First Moon

Next Moon

[ssahotchnerr]

An imagine w hotch where the r is interrogating an unsub who attacks her & hotch enters all angry and protective hsjsjssjks

guarded

cw; protective aaron, bau fem!reader, no established relationship but 🤭

the unsub had merely lunged at you.

he didn't get very far, as he was handcuffed to the steel table in front of him. consequently, you had been pushing his buttons to the extreme- mentioning his dark childhood, poking fun at all his attempts to pursue women and ultimately failing, their rejection contributing to his murderous acts. meanwhile, he had sat there silently, seething, taking in your words. a ticking bomb. and so it was only a matter of time before he snapped.

but, that was all it took for aaron to immediately intervene from his place behind you. he had been supervising your interrogation, adding supporting details when appropriate while you maintained the lead; you were conveniently the definition of the unsub's victimology.

likewise, you knew you had the guy, there was no question otherwise. he fit the profile the team had developed perfectly, all evidence gathered linked him to each crime, he matched the composite sketch given by a witness. all you needed was a confession.

it all happened fast - you barely had the opportunity to recoil as the unsub attempted to invade your senses- there was nothing else in your line of vision but him.

for some reason, you hadn't considered the effect of your words. sure, you wanted to get a reaction- that was the whole point- to get that confession, but not once did you think the unsub would lay a hand on you. anything he tried, you assumed it would just be to frighten you. and you weren't the type to be frightened either.

while you weren't on the edge of your seat, anticipating a potential attack, aaron was.

before your mind had even processed danger pointed directly at yourself, aaron was shielding a protective arm in front of you, limiting access.

you were met with the coarse yet gentle fabric of aaron's suit jacket as he caged you in his arms, escorting you briskly out of the interrogation room himself. harsh insults from the unsub followed behind the two of you.

"hotch."

nothing.

you tried again, "aaron, let me-"

"no." aaron ordered, his tone tight as he released his hold on you. his signature glare was as prominent as ever, his brown eyes full of fury. "stay here."

part of you wanted to resist, not wanting to let this sick son of a bitch feel any satisfaction. but from the visible vein throbbing angrily in aaron's forehead, you knew it was in your best regard to stay put.

you huffed out a breath as you surrendered, and aaron retreated swiftly back into the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

you sidled alongside rossi, who had been observing behind the glass. as soon as you settled in place next to him, he let out a small chuckle.

"what?" you questioned, crossing your arms in front of your chest. you turned your head to look at him, to catch his eye while aaron's merciless voice was floating in the background, "-if you ever even so look at her again-"

"oh nothing." dave held his gaze straight ahead, not pulling his eyes away from aaron, who had yet to let up on ripping the unsub a new one. "nothing at all."

[mistfallengw2]

How do charr hands function? Here's my headcanon (with drawings!)

So I made this poll earlier today and I ended up making some sketches to explain how I headcanon charr hands and their supposedly retractable yet too big claws. The idea is that both the game and the books are partially right: claws can be big (not as big as the models), and they're semi-retractable (so fully-fluffy paws). [Disclaimer: I am bad at anatomical drawings and did not try to make them super accurate :')]

Basically charr fingers are made of three phalanges, but functionally they're just two, with the 2nd and 3rd being much shorter and sort of "merging" with the claw itself, which is mostly supported by the 3rd and starts very close to the knuckle between them. The palm is covered almost entirely by a skin pad/paw pad, which usually extends to the first phalanx of each finger, and the fingertips are covered by pads as well.

The claws are semi-retractile, though the exact range of motion depends on the individual's genetics (claw size and shape + hand anatomy) and preferences (how much they trim the claw). The ability to retract their claws is managed by specialized extra tendons and muscles in the hand's structure, and they can lock the claw in place or move it, even while the fingers are bent, though with some limitation at the extremes of movement. While the claw at rest will stay at a "safe" angle, the claw's bed can shift on the cartilage structure when pulled, sliding back into a "sheathed" position or be pushed outwards. [note: I was too scared to go too far with the "x-ray" sketches and probably the claws could go a bit further back in the finger lol]

Ancestrally, this system kept the claws from always digging into the ground and losing sharpness when running on all fours, while still allowing for extra grip when necessary (similar to cheetahs) and the use when fighting or taking down prey. During the evolutionary transition in which charr started walking upright most of the time and using tools, it lost some of its ancestral necessity and functionality. However, instead of turning into something vestigial, charr evolved the ability of controlling each claw's movement independently from the rest of the finger, allowing for greater precision, fine motor skills and dexterity.

The pad grants grip and softer manipulation of items, while the claw handles movements finer and more precise than the pad allows, and other races find it complex, fascinating or a bit freaky. Some say that charr are as dexterous than humans, if not more, which is quite an accomplishment for creatures with such big hands.

That said, variety is huge among charr. Some have stubby paws with big, wide claws, while others have long, slender fingers with narrow claws.

Claws are still used as a natural weapon by many soldiers, but it's totally not uncommon for charr to file their claws down or keep them blunt, as there's a huge variety of reasons for not wanting sharp knives on one's fingers (job requirements, handling of delicate materials, safer interactions with cubs or creatures with softer skin, personal preference, etc), and some even keep their claws at different lengths for specific uses.

That said, claws can't be trimmed beyond the quick without bleeding or potential damage, and since it extends out of the sheath it's not possible for a charr to fully sheath their claws. Claws grow quite fast to make up for the daily wear and tear, so upkeep must be done regularly, as trimming too much might temporarily impact coordination. Declawing can happen during combat or following injury, and those affected might wear prosthetics/fake claws to make up for it.

[vaxxman]

What do you think about 5cp TF2 map Gullywash?

Getting autobalanced on Gullywash feels especially tragic.

More sketches and more impressions under the cut.

In order to draw this, I watched some highlander matches on Gullywash, due to finding no matches in competitive, and the aimbots going rampant in casual. I was only able to play 5 proper matches on casual, (2 of which my teams won purely due to team imbalance,) so some of this is based on what I saw other people were doing in competitive match recordings, as well as how it feels to play on community servers with AI train bots. No one was playing whenever I was queueing up :(

I learnt very fast that Gullywash is one of these maps where you will die a lot, or steamroll the capture points, and there is no in-between, because you either position yourself correctly or you don't. While this goes for every map in tf2, I never really felt frustrated when dying here. I could always find a reason for my mistakes and generally it turned out to be a very rewarding learning experience.

I think Gullywash is extremely fun and fast paced. I especially enjoy giving scouts and pyros overheal buffs, because of how much flanking you can do here. The symmetry of the map is immaculate and the amount of objects that just lie around allows demos to place a lot of traps and players to just hide in corners.

(Using Scouts as your Uber Driver here is also especially fun, so many near death situations!)

For some reason, the soldiers and demos who play on this map are really good at protecting medics? That's the impression I got, everyone knew when to retreat and not push, everyone turned around when they saw my health go down, everyone was shooting the spies for me when we were in the open and I was too focused with healing the people fighting death matches at the front so we could capture.

(My personal heroes who just rocket jump over to you just to shoot the spy 2m away from you, and then just rocket jump away again)

Snipers aren't much of a problem, since there are so many options for hiding properly while still being able to reach your team mates. The same sadly doesn't apply to spies and I think I have died more to spies on this maps than to sticky traps.

While I love the vaccinator, I think Stock and Kritz are the better options on this map. Nothing cries geneva convention war crime more than entering the door to the last capture point and ubering a soldier who starts spamming everyone with rockets in this rather crammed up room where everything can give you splash damage.

Shoutout to a pyro called Joey who carried the last game I played, it was a blast ubering you through the last capture point.

[yaut-jaknowit]

Okay!

Gawtin x female reader

Reader doesn’t have the best experiences with flames, due to a accident, somehow their home manages to catch on fire, while Gawtin was away, and reader risks her life it to protect the little one, gaining a bad burn mark in the end

(I don’t remember Gawtin Childs name 😥)

Fighting the Impossible

Pairings: Gawtin (Female Yautja) x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 2864

Summary: A day like any other. Gawtin is out during a hunt for dinner. You are left with Qui'oky and happily watch over the little one in your care. Yet, when danger strikes, your worst enemy, you have to act. Fast.

Author Note: My inbox has already gotten pretty full! I'm going to try to knock some out this weekend since I do have it off. I can't believe you forgot about little Qui'oky! Such a sweetie! (I'm just joking! I'm having to have things written down to remember somethings in my stories now. There's so much going on now!)

P.s. It's my birthday! I'm one year older. Yay! (I got called old by the teenagers at work a couple of days ago. I'm sad now.)

Masterlist

Ao3

One thing about living on an alien planet with a different atmosphere is the weather. The jungle takes up a vast majority of Yautja Prime. It spans on this continent from ocean to ocean practically. With the jungle, comes varying weather. Like now.

A lightning storm had sudden sprouted to life an hour after Gawtin had left. This was nothing new. Plenty of storms have rolled through with little issues. The cottage like house was built sturdy, just like a Yautja. It has held for plenty of years. There was no reason to fret.

Qui’oky waddled around the house, chasing something imaginary. Similar to human children, they have an imaginary mind. It was adorable while the little one played in his own mind, making things up as he went. He would babble in Yautja. You tried to listen to the words but only a mother could understand what he was saying.

A gentle smile graced your features when the child came racing around the corner. You had to catch him before he ran straight into your knees. “Whoa, kiddo!” You picked up Qui’oky and sat him down on your hip. “What’s happening, Oky?” The toddler blabbered the same nonsense before and reached for your face.

With his arms open, you dive into his chest and blow raspberries. He squeals and writhes in your grasp. You keep it up until your lungs are out of air. Then, he’s set back down on the ground. Qui’oky looked at you for a moment before returning his fully sprint waddle around the main area of the house. You laughed to yourself and shook your head. The kid was adorable, it was hard not to.

You walked into the kitchen and pulled some dried meat. Gawtin has told you the name of the creature before. After so many different names of the Yautja species, it was starting to remember which was which. Yautja Prime was extremely diverse with so many subspecies and whatnot. Don’t get you started on the ocean itself.

The meat was delicious. Gawtin is a great cook and loves to pamper with whatever is the catch for the week or day. You find yourself in the living room again, on a spacious couch meant for a Yautja, not a human. A very light, breathable blanket was pulled onto your lap. It would be too hot for a normal blanket.

A sketch pad and pencil were pulled onto your lap as well. After a long day of reading and drawing, you decided the best way to treat yourself is to… draw some more. With snacks, of course. You hum away, pencil in hands, as you planned out a painting to defeat the next you were feeling it.

Ideas poured out onto the page. The storm outside only grew worse and worse. Trees shuttered and groan with powerful gusts against window. Sheets of rain battered the windows, attempting to break down the glass. In the house that Gawtin built long ago, it stood mighty strong, like the Yautja herself.

Thunder cracked like a whip outside and caused the walls to tremble and shake. You jolted at the first sounds of the storm. Qui’oky stopped his running and glanced over at you, gauging your reaction. Like Gawtin has taught you, you steeled your nerves immediately. A strong façade falling upon your features the second he looked at you. You weren’t scared of the storm but if he saw you jump, he’ll follow in your footsteps. To be a strong hunter, that was a bad trait.

Hesitantly, Oky started up his run again. His bright blue eyes were on you for a few more seconds before he fully focused on whatever played in his mind. You were more than relieved. If he had started to cry, it wouldn’t be until Gawtin returned from her hunt that he would quiet down. Gawtin says he’s spoiled because of you. She does little to stop you though. Maybe a little human in him won’t hurt. It could make him into a better hunter in the end.

When another roar of thunder rolled through the jungle, you were more prepared for it. Oky’s blue gaze snapped over to you but found you undisturbed, eating at the jerky. He was quicker to return to his game. You continued to doddle away through your sketch book. Different eyes popping in your mind.

All these ideas have been boiling for some time. You had lost the motivation to draw as of late. Today, it feels like the switch had been flipped.

As the page filled, more cracks and roars filled the electrified air. Your nervousness entered the air as well. Gawtin was out there, baring the brunt of the storm. The hunt had to have been cancelled. No animal would stay out in this kind of weather. No matter what creature on this planet.

The end of your pencil was covered in bite marks. Your focus drifted off of the current page to gaze out one of the windows.

Being this far inland, you don’t believe this was hurricane. The weather was ferocious but it was unheard of a hurricane or tropical storm to get this far into the jungle. You continued to gnaw on the eraser while your eyes tracked the weather.

Some time later, close to nightfall, the rain finally relented. That’s when Oky climbed up next to you on the couch and snuggled against your side. The sweet child chittered and yawned. His own day had been long and tiring. Those imaginary friends won’t chase themselves.

All the hairs on the back of your neck rose. Your stomach dropped to the floor. An instinct Gawtin helped hone blared a loud alarm. You were on your feet and hauled the child with you the moment it happened. Your gaze pinned on a window. Something was wrong.

Qui’oky whined and writhed in your grasp, demanding to be put down. The parent instinct in your to protect the child bared its head. You held onto him tightly, still watching closely.

Smoke. White smoke. Barely visible with the dying suns. But you always know the signs of smoke, the signs of a fire.

You were rooted to the spot, breath caught in your throat. It took Oky’s claws into your arm to get your attention.

Fire!

The only thing on your mind was to run. Protect the child. You tightened your arms around Oky and began to sprint towards the door. It was ripped open, slamming into the hidden pocket with a loud bang. You were out of the dwelling the very next second, forcing yourself to dash out of there.

In the air, the heavy smell of smoke was pungent. It took everything in you not to freeze on the spot. Memories flashed behind your eyes, reminding you how deadly a fire could be. You knew the dangers of what a fire could do.

That day, you had lost everything. Everything.

Today, you wouldn’t allow harm to touch Oky.

Qui’oky was heavy. The two year old was bigger than a human toddler. At least a foot taller and thirty pounds heavier. The adrenaline in your veins was powerful. It pushed you past your limits as tree flew past you. Foliage was nothing but a green blur in your vision. All you knew was to get away.

Bziut-ty’s small cottage came into view. You were on the verge of skidding to a stop to make sure Gawtin’s sister wasn’t inside when you spotted her form ahead of you on the trail. The older Yautja’s eyes found yours, relief flooding them. She had been helping another person in the village. Two children were hanging off of her hips.

The large female motioned with her head to follow her. You instantly race up to her, already panting.

“Where’s Gawtin?” she demands and glances over your head, finding no one following you. Gawtin’s home was the furthest from the main area of the village.

“She was out hunting,” you panted and lugged Oky back up further on your side. Your head turned back towards where the plumes of smoke were towering over the massive trees. Trees that easily rivaled the red woods back on your home planet.

Your heart dropped. The bright light of fire was gaining as the wind pushed it into your direction. You could’ve broken down at the sight. A sight that haunted your dreams and waking hours. You stumbled backwards and accidently bumped into Bziut-ty.

The brown female grunted. A dark look passed over her features. You hadn’t thought about it besides the fire. But, you trusted Gawtin. She’s skilled. This jungle is where she grew up in. There’s plenty of lakes and rivers for her to take shelter in. You had to trust in her to save herself while you did the same thing with her child.

“She’ll be fine,” you reassured Bziut-ty or else you’ll drag yourself down.

Bziut-ty’s bright eyes looked down at you. The Yautja nodded her head. She, too, knew Gawtin had the skills needed to survive the wildfire.

“We are heading to the lake. Follow us.” With that, she turned and began to race down the trail again. There were no other Yautjas. It was just the five of you. The three children, Bziut-ty, and yourself. Everyone else had already made their escape.

The lake that Bziut-ty talked about isn’t far from the village. It’s where mothers would take their young so they could learn to swim. It’s plenty large to hold everyone in the village in case of situations like this. You knew where it was. So, you followed a well known path, easily paved from thousands upon thousands walking through here.

Your heart raced, thundering in your ears with each step you took. Oky continued to get heavier and heavier, dragging you down. Bziut-ty was lost from sight, blending into the tree line. You couldn’t blame her. She had two children to look after. They may not be her own, but they where her responsibility.

One look over your shoulder had the world’s end nearing. Your jaw dropped at the sight. The fire! It was licking at your heels. The wind feeding it more and more. You gasped and tried to quicken your speed but the energy in your body was coming to an end. Sobs left your lips. Life as you know it would be gone. It would be you this time to meet your end in a fiery way.

When the path began to curve, you were forced to continue forward. Your feet left the safety of the trail. The unforgiving ground of the forest was harsh on your bare feet. Somehow, you find it in yourself to push forward.

Heat lashed at your back. The fire never leaving you alone. It was like it came back with a vengeance. It hadn’t gotten you that night and now it was back. Ready to consume you.  

This couldn’t be. Your lungs gulped down the receding oxygen in the air. Each breath getting harder to consume. Your head felt light. The little oxygen your body already fought for in the atmosphere was disappearing. But, you kept running, kept fighting. You may not be a warrior but you can still fight.

Ahead of you, you noticed a fallen tree. A young one of the massive trees that made up the jungle. The center hollowed out. That was your only hope. Your speed didn’t change. It felt like it was faltering, allowing for the fire to catch up. You pushed passed the ache in your bones, the need to stop and catch your breath. There wasn’t a chance to.

The log grew closer. You cradled Oky in one, tired arm and dove into the space barely big enough to fit the two of you. You shove Oky in front of you and forced him into the tight space.

Splinters shoved into your skin with each shuffle further into the log. You bite down the pain. Pain was fine. It meant you were still alive, still fighting not only for you life but for Oky’s as well. The poor toddler was sobbing due to your rough handling and the splinters that were intruding into his flesh as well.

His cries didn’t die out. He was alive. He was okay. He has to be. You wouldn’t allow the fire take anymore. It could take the house. That can be rebuilt. But you won’t let it take Gawtin or Oky from you. No more.

As the fire roared over you, your felt the sweltering heat lick at your back. The inside of the log barely able to protect you from the embers following you. It made it hard to breath. You were on the verge of passing out. The lack of oxygen finally catching up. Your body could no longer fight.

A stinging burn on your back is the first thing you awoke to. You hissed and squirmed only to freak out when there was limited space. Your eyes snapped open to find the space dark, barely any light filtering in behind you. Through the darkness, you spotted a familiar form softly napping. Your fingers brushed against his cheek. He was alive.

Relief flooded you. You sagged in your sitting position and started to sob. The fire. It hadn’t won this time.

The worst of it was over but now, you had to get out of here. You patted at Oky’s cheek until his eyes fluttered open. “Hey, sweetie. We need to move. Your mom is probably out looking for us.” If she survived.

No. She had to. You couldn’t lost her too.

Oky groaned and weakly sat up. “Mama?” he babbled in Yautja. You nodded your head with a timid smile. “I hungy.” A light snort escaped you. Food was the last thing on your mind.

The two of your began to crawl backwards. Both your knees and elbows ached terribly. Splinters had made their way into your skin. It hurt to move. All you wanted to do was pass out again but you forced yourself to stand up on the outside of the log.

Destruction met your vision. The jungle around you was ash, black and white. It was dead silent, as the jungle mourned over the loss of its lush green foliage and towering trees. You glanced up to find the tops of the trees mostly fine. Some were lucky, others weren’t.

Oky stopped on the edge of the log to find the same sight. “Oh no,” he muttered and looked he was about to sob again. His home had been wiped out in a single night. You solemnly scooped the kid up and hoisted him onto your hip. He felt heavier than ever. But the ground… you didn’t know if there still hotspots. You would happily take the burn over him.

Both of you started the long trip back home. Your heart directed you where to go as if it knew where the ashes of your home once laid. You could cry at the sight.

When you reached the outskirt of the village, you saw the burnt down homes of families or other Yautjas. You noticed some of them had come back to salvage what they could. None of them you knew personally. So, you continued on, pushing towards the last house on the trail.

Bziut-ty’s home was gone, just like the rest. The female hadn’t been one of the ones to stand outside of her lost house. She survived. She had to.

It wasn’t much longer until you came upon the ashes of a place you once called home. There, on path right before the house, stood an all too familiar form. Your legs nearly faulted underneath you, staggering only a few more feet before they gave out.

Pain shot through you. Every injury on your body jerking from the fall. A broken cry left your lips. Tears clawed at your eyes and fell down your cheeks, leaving behind sticky trails.

Gawtin’s head snapped over at you. Then, the green giant was upon you in a moment’s notice. She knelt down in front of you, hands cupping your dirty cheeks. Her mandibles move quickly, chittering to you and Oky. You weakly offer her child to her, your arms ready to give out. There was no need to be strong anymore. Not with Gawtin right in front of you to carry you.

You cried. Hard. The pain. From your home turned into ashes before your very eyes, to the burns that stung on your back, to the splinters embedded into your skin. You placed a hand on her thigh to lean on her, sobbing uncontrollable. Gawtin scooped your up in her free arm and held you close to.

Purrs poured from her throat. “It is okay, little artist. You are okay. You both are,” she soothed in deep rumble of a voice. Your arms shook as your wrapped them around her neck, securing yourself to her. She lifted you a little higher with her arm under you and tugged closer as well.

Everyone was alive. Everything will be okay. Homes could be rebuilt. People lost couldn’t. Your family was okay.

[sabertoothwalrus]

OK PREFACING WITH IM SORRY IF I ALREADY SENT THIS EXACT ASK BUT MY WIFI KILLED ITSSLF AS I SENT IT SO IDK IF IT ACTUALLY WENT THROUGH. but in case it didn’t . i know youve gotten this countless times in the past because i blog stalked just in case youve mentioned something similar before but i need to know if you have any specific inspirations when you draw exaggerated expressions specifically like these two images of marcille. ive actually cried laughing over this comic and being able to communicate this type of visceral emotion is such an insane skill and ive followed your art for probably close to a decade through various fandoms so watching you develop this style has been fucking awesome and epic. like i cannot articulate how funny these are to me i just need you to understand i look at this comic to inspire me to draw now. the closest comparison i can draw to the feelings they evoke are like those mspaint reaction images and also mspaint tails i included for reference even though you probably know exactly what im talking about anyways but its actually so much harder to do that intentionally when you study art. also i lied you literally don’t even need to answer this i just had to let you know how obsessed i am over your silly comics and now ive written out a whole ass discussion post about it. im sorry if this is weird at all i think my daily prescribed amphetamines r wearing off and i know this is such a dumb specific thing to fixate on and im so sorry if its not something you want to hear about your art. ive just always seen that as an artist this type of expressive stupid silly style is something that comes after a significant amount of time and practice and study and style development despite being “simple” in theory. its just so cool to have worked with your own style so much that youre able to go “off model” from it and still maintain consistency with the rest of the piece. i said it already and im sorry this is actually rendundant now but the ability to communicate such raw emotion somehow decreases from at its height when someone is a beginner artist learning how to proportion and keep a steady line and what looks “normal” but somehow it all comes full circle because taking all that experience and using it to almost return to where you started but in a fully informed and intentional way so you can make choices to draw characters like this when the situation calls for it is just dhcidogakgoshfhw. i think i need to cut myself off or im going to talk in circles im sorry tumblr user sabertoothwalrus i just am fascinated by your style and progress and the years you’ve dedicated to art can be seen in so many places but this is just one that stands out to me specifically.

MMMMM what a fun question!!!

I'm not gonna lie, I think it's just Letting A Drawing Be Bad. I definitely think the people that struggle with this the most are people who have genuinely very pretty art styles, to the point of being kind of perfectionist about it. and to Draw Funny often means Drawing Fast and Weird. Pretty is kind of the antithesis of funny (unless being pretty is the punchline). do drawings that make yourself laugh. tracing/lining funny sketches almost always makes them less funny.

one of my favorite types of humor is when it skews more deadpan, actually. This is one of the reasons I love Adventure Time. minimal expressions and flat line delivery + absurd context is a really good combo. the key to comedy has more to do with contrast! if your drawings are allllll crazy ren & stimpy all the time, they're not funny anymore cause it's just "normal". if it's all subdued UNTIL it's extreme, and vice versa, then it's funny. The reason this comic is so funny is because of the complete lack of any expression. I feel like the one you sent of Marcille shouting "WHAT" is funnier when you know how much she tries to be dainty and feminine and delicate, how much she values her appearance, and how averse she is to "gross" or "weird" things.

something I find really annoying (and this is with comics/animation in general, not the expressions themselves) is when the joke goes on for too long. Like you'll have the joke, then the punchline, and THEN the characters reacting to the punchline??? Like the author didn't trust that their audience would find the joke funny, so they basically drew in a laugh track. But, this is distinct from a character's reaction being the punchline (like how the examples you gave from my Marcille comic are). MY POINT IS sometimes expressions aren't as funny on their own as you think, and context can affect how you feel about it!

as far as inspirations go!

my own face! even if I don't have a mirror, I like making the expressions myself so I can "feel" where the points of tension on my face are, and it gives me a sense of what to exaggerate.

my brother's art, believe it or not! we've been trying to make each other laugh with our drawings since we were kids, and he's really good at it.

ATLA has some great expressions

OK KO has been a reallyyyy good source for me lately. That show is so tailored to my sense of humor and the expressions and line deliveries feel exactly like the kinds of things I'd come up with. The tone, timing, and art style are all really close to the tv show pitch I'm working on, so when I feel like I've "strayed" too much from it (like after drawing a bunch of dungeon meshi, and my art feels tighter and... idk "manga-ier"?) I like to go and watch a couple episodes of OK KO to loosen back up

A lot of things like OG Spongebob, Calvin & Hobbes, the Simpsons, Chowder, etc etc

memes in general. if it makes you laugh, keep it in mind

and lastly, I wouldn't say I ever try to mimic funny expressions I see. Like if I watch a show for inspo, I'm not pausing it to copy specific drawings, I'm just trying to notice patterns and pay attention to what about it I find funny.

talking about being funny is really bizarre and I dunno if it makes it lose some of the magic. Ultimately it's something you can't think about too much, and just gotta go with your gut.