#I also have no idea how to draw and or render hands and I simply will not learn

[gretavanlace]

Hush

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only Minors do not interact

Warnings: graphic sexual content, dirty talk, choking, light degradation, praise, slight dom/sub/switch dynamic, language, etc

Josh is vocal.

That is certainly no secret.

Anyone who has watched him strut about a stage, microphone in hand, knows that.

Off stage, he talks incessantly about both the things that matter to him, and the mundane. Things he is passionate about. Things that light fires within him and drive him to create and pack this world as full of his heart as he possibly can. Arbitrary ideas and notions. Strange ponderings.

Pontification, he likes to call it.

He’s also vocally boisterous when agitated. He loathes waiting, and will mutter complaints near your ear in line until you’re willing your eyes not to roll. A phone call to vent about the antics of one brother or another from the studio is a regular occurrence and can be counted on just like death and taxes.

“Samuel was even later than I was,” he might huff, “and now Jake’s guitar needs to be restrung because fuck this whole world if he has to use a backup. I hate them, and I want to come home to you, light of my life, keeper of the stars, goddess of all that is— oh, we’re ready…gotta go.”

Josh murmurs in his sleep, sings in the shower, talks himself through menial tasks, hums in the grocery store, carries on one-sided conversations with the cat who simply chirps along while swirling around his ankles.

At least twice a night he snatches you from drifting off to sleep with a question: Do you think I should call my mom more? If I miss her, she must miss me. Or, Did I ever tell you about that time that Jake ate shit and fell in the lake? I was thinking about it today, and…

Random thoughts and idle musings he can’t help but verbalize, you hear them all. Mostly. The ones you aren’t privy to, fall upon the nearest ear - but he’s so fucking charming even a stranger is happy to play sounding board.

Josh is also expressive when you’re wrapped up in soft, linen sheets…or wherever else he’s decided he can no longer wait to have you.

Whispers of devotion swelling like a gentle breeze across the hum of your pulse when he makes love to you. Filthy, dirty, blush-inducing declarations when he’s fucking into your trembling body like he’ll never touch it again.

And you love it…all of it. But now - with your visiting sister slumbering in the guest room on the other side of the wall - is certainly not the time.

“Baby, please…” his mouth is sucking gently along your collarbone as he grinds into you slowly, friction hard and constant against your greedy, swollen clit, “let me fuck you faster…c’mon, I need it.”

”What you need, is to be quiet,” your voice is a stern whisper, but your hands are tender in his hair.

He could easily set a pace as brutal as he desired if he felt inclined to disobey…but, ever the sweetest switch, he has opted to play nice tonight.

”I’ll be quiet,” he promises. It is a lie he truly believes, and to prove that point, you clench around him and draw forth a pitiful groan from deep within his chest.

A swift pinch at his side serves as punishment ”Shut. Up.”

”Fuck you,” he sounds deliciously desperate, “You did that on purpose. Squeezing me with that beautiful pussy…goddamn.”

”What’s going to happen if I let you make me cum? Hmm?” Your mouth falls into a delicate pout as if you just feel so sorry for him, “You know how tight I get. How I just hug your cock all snug and wet…”

”And warm,” he adds, lost in it, daydreaming in the dark of night and twitching inside the embrace of your cunt, “Soft as satin, sucking me right in…oh my god, baby, please.”

He begins moving with more purpose, dragging the head of his cock against that lovely little spot that will render you incoherent if you allow it to.

”Oh my god, please,” you mock quietly, “Look at you Joshua, what a whiny baby. What are you begging for? Pussy? Is that what you need?”

He nods frantically against your sternum, as though he doesn’t trust himself to look up at you.

You feign confusion wickedly “But you’ve got that. You’re already inside me…”

“Faster,” he breathes, biting and mouthing at your shoulder now, “Need it faster, and harder. It’s too slow, I need more.”

Clicking your tongue like he is a poor, pathetic sight to behold, you shake your head, “Slow down.”

”No, please don’t make me,” he slows, as instructed, but trails off with a whimper.

So, maybe there’s no ‘like’ about it, maybe he really is a poor, pathetic sight to behold. Yes, you decide, that’s exactly what he is…

…so why not push him even further?

With a swift tug on the roots of his curls, you issue an order ”Stay still.”

Despondent and mournful, he groans into the crook of your neck and grabs at your hips so tightly you’ll be admiring raspberry bruises in the mirror come morning. ��C’mon, baby girl…lemme take it. I fucking want it.”

If he were looking at you, he’d see the devilish gleam in your eye. Aren’t you an awful witch tonight? “What? Don’t you like it when I keep your pretty cock warm for you?”

He flexes hard inside of you, simply to gain even a hint of friction. “You’re being so fucking mean.”

”Mean?” You coil around the throbbing length of him and he shudders out the tiniest sound, “If I was mean, I’d lock your pretty cock in a cage and fuck your face all night.”

For a moment, he shirks his submissive edge and hisses in your ear, low and slow, “Liar. Not with little sister in the next room…you couldn’t keep quiet with my face between your legs if someone fucking paid you to.”

In response, you shove him back and roll until your thighs are locked around his waist, the crown of his cock nestled against your clit as your hips swivel heated circles.

”Does that feel good, baby?” You’re taunting him cruelly while, in contrast, lovingly reaching up to smooth the furrow from his brow. “Does that just feel so good?”

”Wanna put it back inside,” his eyes squint shut and anyone who didn’t know better might think his expression is that of suffering. “Perfect fucking cunt, so tight, so…”

”Shh,” you quiet him with a hand wrapped around his throat, relishing the way his adam’s apple slides against your palm when he swallows hard, “shut your mouth for once.”

He’s staring up at you, wide-eyed and needy, like you painted the stars in the sky, gorgeous and glittering, just for him…and how you wish that were true. How you wish you could give him something so profound. Something worthy of his light.

”I won’t make a sound,” his vow sounds out, a cross between the honesty he wishes it to be rooted in, and the lie he knows it to be. “C’mon baby, please…fuck me sweet.”

Does he really want it sweet? Or is he simply aware that that’s all he is capable of quietly handling?

Likely the latter.

Your fingers have found your nipples, twisting and tugging on them as they tighten into pink pebbles that send shivers crawling down into your stomach with every pull. His eyes lock in on you, watching you tease them as his breathing kicks up into a frenzy.

“You’re pushing it,” he warns, grip pulling you down closer as he rocks his hips up to meet you. “Keep it up and I’m gonna fucking take it. Be a good girl now, baby…I’m done with your shit.”

”Yeah?” Your eyebrow raises in silent challenge. Does he have it in him tonight?

“Yeah.” He nods, licking his thumb to swirl much too gently across your clit.

”I think you should just behave and be grateful for what you’re—“

Stunned and dazed, the room blurs around you as you’re flipped and tossed until your cheek is pressed against the cool, crisp sheets. They smell of him, and you breathe Josh in until your lungs ache while his cock teases at your entrance from behind.

His body folds over yours until his lips sweep the shell of your ear, “You’ve done it now, baby girl. Better be quiet, yeah? Not a sound.”

With a swift snap of his hips, the silken glide of his cock fills you full as his palm presses against your lips to muffle the high-pitched moan that gasps out of you.

”Now who’s the whiny baby?” his perfect teeth sink into your earlobe and tug until it blooms with heat. The moan that seeps into his soft skin causes his lips to curl into a smirk you can feel. “This is what you wanted, you think I don’t know that?”

He has begun moving at an excruciatingly slow place, the head of his cock dragging gently inside you just right…but you need more.

”You think I didn’t know that you wanted me to just fucking take it all along?”

You nod urgently, tangling your hair against the pillowcase. Of course he knew, he knows you better than you know yourself. There are no secrets to be hidden away when it comes to Joshua. He hunts each and every one down like glittering treasure with ease…your body his map, the pools of your eyes ciphers he decodes without even trying.

His tongue is dancing its way along your jaw now, springing chills to life upon your flushed skin ”Tell me how good my cock feels and I’ll fuck you full.”

Another woeful sound shakes out of you and a rumbling, gravelly laugh huffs warm against your cheek, “My poor, sweet baby can dish it just fine tonight, but she can’t take it? Is that it?”

With a shhh that makes you feel weighed down heavy with lust, he lifts his palm away from your mouth. “I can take it,” you promise in a hush, “Please…I can take it, I swear.”

He is so still inside you, but the familiar stretch is enough to send a tremble tripping up your spine, spider-cracking like a jolt of electric pleasure. “But can you take it quietly? Can you be a real good girl or should I gag you like a whore?”

”I’ll be a good girl,” you breathe, relishing the sound that slips out of him, a cross between famished desire and worshipful devotion.

“Yeah?” He’s enjoying this little game too much to wave goodbye to it just yet, “You’ll be a good girl if I give you this cock?” He presses in so deeply there’s nothing left for him to give, “You’ll take it quietly and squeeze it nice and tight? Soak it with your little wet cunt when I make you cum?”

He can feel you clenching already, twisting around him like a fist, milking him, pulling him in, starved for more.

”Yes, yes, yes,” you chant softly, begging for him to get on with it, “Just fuck me, Josh…please,”

There’s that sinful mouth of his again, ghosting over your ear, “Just fuck me Josh,” he mocks in a velvet whisper, “Please.”

A sob escapes you and turns the apples of your cheeks pink…he echoes the sound back to you and fans the flames of your delectable shame.

”Quiet now, baby…” he reminds you, tone taunting and laced with self-satisfaction, “You just bite down on the pillow if it gets to be too much, and I’ll bite down on you.”

You tighten around him at the mere thought of it and tug an achingly gorgeous grunt from deep within his chest, “You like that? You want me to bite you to keep quiet? Mark you up all pretty?”

”Fuck…” you reach back and grab for him, fingers sinking into the curve of his waist, begging for it with your entire body.

You can’t seem to manage much more, but it’s enough for him, and with a swift pull back, he snaps his hips hard and fast and sets a relentlessly feral pace in motion.

The head of his cock, thick and suede-soft, kisses your cervix with each inward push, driving a wild sound out of you that you smother into the pillow, tongue dragging against the worn cotton as though it were his mouth.

His teeth are peppering your back and shoulders, gnashing his own moans way down deep into your flesh where you will secret them away forever. He gifts each sound to you on a gorgeous, stinging platter and you only want more, more, more. It is never enough with him…you are gluttonous for whatever he sees fit to offer.

”You feel so fucking good, baby,” it comes undulating across your cheekbone like a warm, languorous breeze, “So fucking wet, I can feel you all over me. You’re gonna make me cum.”

He grows impossibly hard within you and that, along with the filth he is sighing into the night and the drags of his teeth, sends you careening over the edge you had no idea you were so close to. You explode around him, and his weight grows heavier atop you as his thrusts lose rhythm.

“That’s it,” his praise is clipped and winded, “just - fuck - just like that. Keep going, so tight, messy pretty fucking pussy, make me cum, baby, please…make me fucking cum.”

He’s babbling like a brook you want to lie beside and listen to for the rest of your life. So beautiful. So Josh. But so quietly, and you know how difficult it must be for him, how hard he must be trying, and you love him all the more for it.

With a final, vicious bite, he coaxes a hiss out of you that makes him see stars as he lets go, fucking himself deeper and deeper as he rides it out, moans pressed into your glazed, shivering body like flowers in between the pages of a book.

And still, you only want more. You want his jaw to lock, his teeth to break the skin, to draw blood, to scar you…soft pink, raised marks tattooed by his kiss to remind you.

A long sigh flutters your hair, and your eyes drift closed at the soothing lilt of the sound as his fingers begin to card through your hair.

”You thirsty, baby?” His nose nuzzles at you, drawing forth a lazy smile that is half smashed into the pillow.

“Yes, but stay a little longer.”

He cuddles down into you, cheek to cheek, the weight of his body keeping you warm and safe in the silence.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @profitofthedune @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @jakeslovehandles @jakesgrapejuice @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @lvnterninthenight @paintmyhouse @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie

[sewerpalette]

My Human AL-AN redesign!! The video is still a WIP because I got sick haha, but yk.

At first I was scared I wouldn’t see a lot of visual Improvement, since the video is only 7 months old, but I compared the two and wow, there is a huge difference and I’m very happy with it.

Also this isn’t really much of an AU(?) it’s kinda hard to explain but it’s basically just the alien designs replaced with humanoids for my personal convenience (can’t draw em very well), with some minor story altercation that doesn’t really affect the plot. I think with AL this is easier to explain as they canonically have the ability to cause visual hallucinations, so this design would probably just be an extension of that, not really how he looks. I always liked the idea of the architects being a little eldritch that way, they have a true form but it’s unphysical, the human mind can’t make it up so the individual simply chooses what to present itself as: at least that’s my personal interpretation/headcanon.

As I’ve said before in the first post about the concept design where I further explain my decisions, I gave him a burn scar over his face from the disease research facility incident wich I imagine stuck with him in a way it, in one way or another, burns itself through every body he possesses aslong as the transfer doesn’t go wrong and he remains with the memory (also obviously to resemble his face screen).

His attire is based off of those the alterrans scientists wear, the pattern is a mix of precursor architecture textures and shapes mimicking those on his body, the logo on the lab coat is inspired by the architect statues from BZ, wich i reaaaally loved.

Hair/face shaped to vaguely resemble his face plate thingy and horns.

Also gave them a bag in wich I imagine carries all the different tools that are built into their arms in the game, because I’d rather die than draw those again beyond blocking in rough shapes haha, bag coincidentally ended up having a sea dragon color palette wich I initially wanted to change but ended up really loving because it kinda symbolises his guilt haunting him a little. it’s also stacked to the brim with enzyme 42 for obvious reasons.

I also still stand by the idea that the architects would look a little uncanny when trying to resemble humans, they can mimic them to near perfection, but something is just off, the body ratio looks strange, neck a few centimetres too long, shoulders a tad bit too low, lower legs too long, face moving too monotonely, small things like that yk.

Had to rerender this because I started drawing at like 6am at wich point my brain was rotting so hard I completely forgot what brushes I use, but that doesn’t really matter since I love to render so yk lol.

I made a poll on Instagram asking wether or not people liked the glasses, because on one hand I felt it made the colors more even whilst directing attention at and lighting the face nicely, but on the other I don’t really wanna make every „smart“ character have glasses, so I decided that these are reading glasses, wich means he does have them but he can also go without.

here is the alternative without:

[randomyuu]

so hold my hand (consign me not to darkness) [1/4]

Ah, yes. The fic that made me realise I’m in desperate need of Cursed Spirit Gojou in my ever-growing favourite GoYuu tropes.

Content Warning!

Major Character Death. Other characters are disrespectful to the corpse.

I highly suggest you read the fic first, or just the fic, since I don’t think I was properly able to adapt it into drawings. While I managed to use roughly two weeks of on-and-off planning, researching, and storyboarding, I only had a full week to finish it. You can read more of my thoughts below the comic if you’re curious.

Title: so hold my hand (consign me not to darkness)

Author: qalb_al_louz

It’s ongoing, and as of this drawing, the fic is in its third chapter. While this is (sexually) SFW, always be mindful of the tags! Please keep yourself safe and sound.

Please read from right to left, and enjoy!

You can only upload 30 images in one post, huh Damn, I gotta divide it into parts

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Alrighty, I'll put my watered down unhinged thoughts below. No extra drawings down there if you're curious haha (unless you want to see the storyboard and the characters' full body character sheet, lemme know). You can skip the stuff underneath the Keep Reading for all parts.

This fic had me grinning from ear to ear every time I read this. The atmosphere, how it goes from POV to POV—of pure fear and panic—and the peak excitement I got when Yuuji properly meets Gojou, like brooooo 😭

Gosh I cannot emphasise how much I love this fic. I’ve always been wanting to make a whole comic out of it, especially since it was 2 chapters and it doesn’t look like the author will update it, but it just… kind of forgotten ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

But then the author posted a new chapter and I told myself this is a sign I should really start.

also goddamn I was so naive to think I can tackle 2 chapters as comic—no I was in fact cannot

The moment I laid my eyes on the first paragraph, things were portrayed very vividly in my mind. The panel, the angle, Gojou's head rolling down... I was like, hell yeah. Then I continued reading and I finally succumbed to my desire to draw this out.

At first I want to adapt this into a vertical format like those manhwas. However the longer I try to learn and storyboard it... I am simply not yet comfortable with it, especially for such a big project. Even the 1st storyboard starts vaguely vertical before the panels quickly crammed into that B4-B5 format lol. The first sketch estimated 69 (heh) pages for 90% of chapter 1. I said "no" for my own sanity and fully focused on the usual manga format and it was narrowed down to 60. Still a lot though, quantity and time-wise. So with a heavy heart, I can only do the majority of chapter 1 :”) I really really want to draw Sukuna talks back to Gojou—do you have any idea how good that scene was??? Gojou tried so hard to restrain himself, he’s so other I love him 😭

Due to the sheer length of this comic (I'm still in disbelief), I have limit lots of things, and that includes the drawing. If you've seen my other JJK fanarts, they are more rendered than this one. Well, this one is purely sketched with the help of the eraser to tidy up some lines. This is also the first fanart that I did purely on Photoshop, so I can control the typesets and drawings in one place. Usually, I use Photoshop for panels and typesetting and Krita for drawing.

I don't really like Photoshop's brush, but it did really well in curbing my perfectionist tendencies, so that's good.

It's also been quite a while since I draw in general (sobs) so... yeah, you might find differences, or not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

I know setting is important, but maaan I genuinely won't miss rereading chapter 83-93 with a heavy focus on background and character locations. I just want to read the action and dialogue😭 However continuity is really important. But my spatial intelligence is almost non-existent even GPS sometimes can't help me. All I'm saying is that if you find some silly drawing mistakes, do forgive me ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿I only drew all this in a week because otherwise I won't have another chance to complete this.

Well, lots of things I won't miss from this project, but haha let's talk about the characters instead because holy shit what was I thinking, starting this year drawing this many characters in the same project??? I have never drawn anyone here except for Yuuji, Gojou, Nanami and Megumi. I don't think I've ever drawn older Getou before. I already forgot how to draw my boy Yuuji and I gotta draw all these people???

This is what you call making a bad decision, kids. Don't do your "drawing warmup" after months of not drawing and tackling a project of a scale way bigger than you've ever tackled before.

Thank you for reading this far! I hope you find my complaint entertaining! But make no mistake, I genuinely still love the fic. Drawing this, even with all the headaches it gave me, only makes me adore this fic even more.

Thank you very much to each one of you who follows and leaves comments and tags on my silly art—it never failed to make my day :D And I sincerely wish this one also made your day or even made your minute! I'll see you in the next part!

[swiftrunnerfelidae]

The main problem is that, under our current system, money is required to live. You need to do something that makes money, in order to spend that money on food, water, housing, medicine, and transportation, because without spending that money you do not have access to those things. As such, you have to do work, work that someone else will pay you to do. With many jobs - farm hand, cook, factory worker, logger, miner - it's easy enough to look at past output in that field to determine how much that labor is worth. A line cook produces about a thousand dollars worth of food per day, perhaps. Subtract out the cost of ingredients, and you have an easy metric for the value of that line cook's worth to their employer.

This basic math falls down in creative fields, such as novel writing, animation, film, or music. It is INCREDIBLY difficult to determine the value of a creative work until after it is done, and even then it is largely the reaction to that work which determines its value. But, under our economic system, the necessities of food, water, housing, medicine, and transportation all require expending money to access. As such, those who spend their time creating need monetary compensation, or else they will be unable to continue creating.

The solution that we have landed on, therefore, is for people to be reimbursed after the fact. Shows are sold to networks, with the profits of those sales going to pay those who worked on the show. Music is sold to record labels, with song sales reimbursing the artists. Films are sold to movie theaters, with ticket proceeds reimbursing the creators of the works. And of course, novels are sold to publishing houses, and the sales of those books reimburse the novelist.

However, with this after-the-fact payment, this creates a problem. Someone could come along, take that novel, copy it down word for word, and publish it themselves, for a fraction of the time investment of the original novelist. A novel that took months if not years to write, full of painstaking research and careful methodical worldbuilding, could be copied wholesale in a matter of weeks or days from a physical copy, to as little as seconds with a digital one. And then, due to having to compensate far less effort to be profitable, the copier could sell their duplicate for far less money and still be economically successful.

This is the problem copyright law seeks to solve. It attempts to lay out in unambiguous terms who has the right to copy creative works, hence the name, and lay out monetary, carceral, and/or corporal punishments for doing so without that right. Unfortunately, the clear deliniations it attempts to draw run up against an immediate problem: derivative works. If you write a story, and I rewrite it to include zombies, altering the worldbuilding and story beats to accomodate this change, I have undeniably done work. I have unambiguously created something new. But I could only do so by starting from a previous work and deriving a new one.

The issue, therefore, is in where the boundary lies. Sure, obviously adding in a single typo to change the work does not count as creating something truly new, but where does the line fall between "I have copied The Hound of the Baskervilles verbatim, except I added, changed, or removed a single letter and No More" and "I wrote an entirely original story except Sherlock Holmes shows up for exactly one sentence"? There is no objective point to place that line which distinguishes the derivative work from the copy.

A solution presents itself, however, in a simple inversion: pay the creatives before the work is done. If payment is rendered before the work is finished, and all throughout the creation, then it does not matter nearly as much if someone were to copy the work and spread it elsewhere - it is simply the original's ideas and creativity, spread into new audiences. Sure, there are also those who would do so in an attempt to obtain fame and clout by pretending they created the work, but they would do so anyway - removing the profit motive would undeniably reduce the incidents of people doing so for profit, thus reducing it overall.

This, however, raises further complications. The patrons of these artists, responsible for the livelihoods of these creatives, would (quite naturally) seek to influence their work, to push the ideals of the patron, or to use the work of the creatives as propaganda to further their own image. See, for example, the outsized influence the USA's military has on films produced in Hollywood - by providing funding and military vehicles to use in their productions, the productions thus become dependent on this military backing, and thus incentivized to portray the military in a positive light, lest this backing be removed.

The obvious solution - have the payment for these creatives come from some neutral source - is an unfortunately doomed endeavor. It is the political landscape around such a body that determines what counts as a "neutral" political statement, which will inevitably result in a conservative, status-quo-preserving inclination to any and all creatives dependent on this funding. Furthermore, such a body would be able to decide who counts as a creative, thus stifling the growth and proliferation of art forms that run counter to their goals. However, there is another, more balanced option.

If the funding is not given to creatives specifically, but instead to everyone - a universal income, divided out to all, enough to live on regardless of location - then this removes the ability of a political body to cut funding to an artist they dislike, as there is no criteria under which the funding could be removed. Furthermore, such a universal income would allow those trapped in unfavorable jobs the freedom to leave them - if this universal basic income is enough to live off of by itself, then there is no longer the threat of poverty keeping people at displeasurable, upsetting, or downright dangerous jobs. This would also force jobs to become more appealing across the board - when the option is between working for more cash, and not working but having enough to live reasonably comfortably, then unpleasant and underpaying jobs become far less appealing as they are no longer being compared against poverty and starvation.

Anyway, the solution to the problem of copyright law is communism thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[insertpoetryhere]

Dadbastian Week: Setting Sun

"Poetry you're a week late" I know, I had midterms this week and i was cooked alive. But I'm better now and I have this thing to make up for the fact that I skipped an entire day. My official (a week overdue) sendoff to Dadbastain Week 2023!

A huge thank you to @dadbastianweek2023 for organizing such a cool event and for all the participants who might be some of the most talented creators I've ever seen! Also thank you to everyone who helped my indecisive ass pick a name for the dog.

My Baby, My Baby

Escape had been impossible. 

Sebastian did not often make a habit of avoiding his young master, but he had to do what had to be done to maintain some semblance of peace. Then again, one of his (former) favorite things had always been his stubborn determination.

And all it took was cornering him in the foyer and ordering him to sit down to render him completely helpless. Now it was just him, Ciel, and the 14 page hand-written essay entitled “why we should get a dog”.

The essay was, as the title implied, an itemized list of every reason he could think for why the manor needed a dog.

Number one: A dog would offer an added layer of protection.

Number four: Dogs were very good for hunting.

Number fifteen: Ciel could not leave his dirty dishes in his study anymore since chocolate would make the dog sick.

Number twenty-eight: A dog would gladly eat anything that fell on the floor.

Number fifty-one: Ciel would allegedly never ever ever ask Sebastian for his assistance on a major purchase ever again.

Sebastian had scoffed at that one, realizing how serious Ciel must be to acknowledge his own lack of control over his pocket money so openly. Usually Sebastian’s status as the keeper of Ciel’s check book was something that the two of them did not discuss. After all, his young master was not a fan of acknowledging his own age and there was a little bit more dignity in pretending that Sebastian was put in charge of the Phantomhive finances by choice.

Regardless of pride, Ciel was still a child. And as a child, he needed Sebastian to sign off any and all money.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate your… dedication.” Sebastian had to cut Ciel off once they reached the part that the young earl had written entirely in broken German as a way to prove that his dedication to his studies would remain unchanged. “But could you not just order me to sign off on this?”

The idea of having a dog in the house made him want to gag, but Ciel’s German was simply where he had to draw the line. 

Ciel looked up from his paper, eyeing Sebastian as if he had said something unequivocally stupid. “Of course not, you would just buy the dog and then get rid of it immediately afterwards. Or you would make sure the dog is of poor health so that it wouldn’t last long anyways.” His gaze was steely and serious, a stark juxtaposition to the very childish conversation at hand. “I need you completely and fully on board.”

Sebastian sighed, cursing his consistency and communication skills for making his movements so predictable. “Then may we continue this discussion as I do the housework? I fear I can’t stay seated through- how many more are there?”

“Ninety-four.” Ciel didn’t even look back down at his paper. Which was somewhat terrifying.

“... Walk and talk.” He stood up from the chair(he did not understand why humans felt the need to sit for so long).

Ciel perked up (“Like a dog” is how Sebastian’s brain finished that sentence, which made him frown) and followed behind him as he carried on with his day.

Number sixty-six: Ciel would never complain again.

Laughable.

Number seventy-five: Ciel would never bother Sebastian again.

Again, hilarious.

Number eighty-three: A portion written and performed entirely in broken latin to further show his commitment, which was somehow worse than the German portion had been.

That one was… long.

Number ninety: Please.

Ok, now this was getting to Sebastian. 

Number ninety-

“Okay, stop!” Sebastian couldn’t take it. He couldn’t handle the… pleading and the voice and the any of it. Especially not now as he juggled pots and pans in the kitchen, trying to make sense of the mess Mey Rin had left behind in the wake of “preparing lunch” while Ciel ate said lunch in the kitchen with him, speaking even louder so that he might be heard over the sound of metal clinking together.

Ciel looked up, hopeful. As if he had been planning to induce a headache the entire time. “So you are in agreement?”

Sebastian bit his lip. This was psychological warfare and he was losing, goddamnit. His eyes settled on the box of eggs, still left out on the counter despite the fact that lunch had not needed eggs for its preparation at all. He smiled coyly before picking one up and handing it to the young master.

Ciel took it, confused. “What’s this for?”

“That,” Sebastian said pointedly. “Is to show me you understand the responsibility of looking after something too stupid to look after itself.”

It was meant to be a jab at him, but Ciel didn’t react. Instead, he held the egg gentler, staring at it as if it was made of gold. “How long do I have?”

“Until sundown.” Sebastian turned his attention back to the chores, relishing in how much quieter the kitchen had gotten.

“And if I give this egg back to you unharmed, you will approve the purchase of a dog without complaint?” He raised an eyebrow, like he was trying to unpack the ways in which this could blow up in his face.

“Mhm.” Sebastian was only half listening as he put the rest of the eggs away and began scrubbing the dishes.

Ciel stared at the egg suspiciously now. “And this isn’t a trick? I have your word that you-”

“Would you like me to change my mind?” Sebastian interrupted, the seriousness in his voice enough to make the boy shake his head and run off to provide a life for his practice pet. Sebastian sighed, eyeing a clock on the wall. He had bought himself at least six hours, plenty of time for Ciel to either break the egg or lose interest in the activity entirely.

While the idea of either cleaning the remnants of a broken egg or tracking down a rotten one weeks later did not appeal to him in the slightest, anything was better than having to deal with a dog.

In short, he had won.

---

He had expected Ciel to get bored after an hour or so. Either that or break the egg and give up on the whole ordeal. So naturally when the bell in the basement tripped, alerting Sebastian that he was needed in the study, he had thought peace was on the horizon.

What he did not expect was to see the young master seated at his desk, the egg sitting on a plush velveteen pillow. 

The egg had its own space on the desk, not too close to the edge and not too far from Ciel in case of an emergency. Ciel himself stared Sebastian down, his list of what appeared to be dog names completely abandoned the moment the door opened.

“Do you need something, my lord?” Sebastian asked after an abnormally long bout of silence.

“No.” He said shortly, still staring at Sebastian intently.

The demon blinked. “... You rang?”

“I did not ring.” Ciel said, still staring. “You must be hearing things.”

“... I see.” Sebastian wondered if behavior like this would warrant regular appointments with a shrink. His boy was staring at him and had an egg on a pillow. Even he found this disturbing and pondered on exactly what kind of monster he had created.

Ciel cleared his throat as the silence persisted. “The egg is well.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed as he understood what this was; An official declaration of war. “I see that.”

Ciel continued to stare. “It has a pillow.”

“I am aware.” Sebastian’s cold glare turned to the egg as he pondered ways to turn the tides in his favor. Clearly he had underestimated Ciel’s resolve. Maybe during tea, he could-

“I order you not to touch the egg in any capacity.” He had to be able to read minds. He had to somehow be in Sebastian’s head.

That little bastard.

Sebastian pursed his lips together in a tight, displeased line. “As you wish, my lord.”

Ciel nodded, his gaze a perfect mirror image of the cruel glare Sebastian had become so well known for. “You are dismissed.”

---

It had been Sebastian’s idea for Bard to offer to take Ciel hunting. Partially incentivized by an advance on the cook’s Christmas bonus.

“I’ll take ’im out without the bribe,” Bard laughed, a cigarette tucked between his teeth. “Jus’ not sure why you don’t want to come along.”

Because that was part of the appeal. A hunting trip with Bard (the significantly more fun chaperone) where Ciel was allowed to use the good guns that they kept in the cellar (which he was normally not allowed access to). A level of reckless, irresponsible fun that no teenage boy could refuse.

Evident by the way that he nearly jumped out of his seat, banding his knee against his desk (it did not knock the egg from its perch, sadly) before regaining his composure.

“I suppose, if it will pass the time.” He said passively, trying to rub his injured knee without anyone noticing.

It wasn’t until he looked back down at his desk that the boy seemed to realize why the offer had been made in the first place; The egg could not be left unattended.

He looked up at Sebastian in malice, who only smiled sweetly back. His master was not stupid. Surely he would see this hunting trip as a once in a lifetime offer and wisely abandon this silly egg game for more entertaining pursuits. Triumph at last.

All three men in the room stood in a triangle, each staring at the egg as it sat innocently on its pillow; Ciel in contemplation, Sebastian in cruel victory, and Bard in… confusion. Which made sense, seeing as no one had let him in on the egg deal.

A light bulb may as well have popped up above Ciel’s head as he grabbed the egg off of its pillow. “I shall return shortly.”

The boy bolted out of the room, leaving Sebastian standing there with a displeased glare.

“... Was that an egg?” Bard asked, but received no response from Sebastian as the demon butler glared at the door, waiting for his master’s return. “Why does he have an egg?”

Ciel returned only a few minutes later, a small bag used for carrying dice tied onto one of his belt loops with a secureness that only could have been achieved by Finny. So the boys were in cahoots… lovely.

“Ready when you are.” He announced with a triumphant grin.

Sebastian grumbled. Foiled once more.

---

“Dogs cannot sit at the table` At this point in the day, Sebastian was getting petty. But the hunting trip had not even broken the damned thing, and the only other option he could think of was having Mey Rin shoot the god forsaken thing off of its pillow (something she was disturbingly excited to try). So yes, he was taking some of those frustrations out on Ciel and the egg.

Ciel looked up from his dinner, which he had not yet gotten the chance to take a bite out of. “That wasn’t part of the deal!” He argued.

Sebastian shrugged. “It would prove your dedication.”

He was either going to put the egg on the ground and accidentally step on it, forget it, or finally give up. He had to. Sebastian had no other ideas for how to get rid of this thing (unless he took Mey Rin up on her offer, that is). His migraine worsened as he imagined the sound of barking joining in with the other annoyances of his day to day life.

He needed Ciel to either fuck up or give up.

Ciel glared, taking the egg (still on that stupid pillow) in his hand. Sebastian swore he heard angels singing as Ciel did so, assuming that his plan had worked. But then Ciel picked up his plate as well, and Sebastian watched in annoyance as he took both items over to the wall and sat down.

His stubbornness knew no bounds.

“I will not fetch anything from the table for you if you are going to behave this way.” Sebastian said, standing firmly by the table as Ciel settled himself comfortably on the floor.

Ciel placed the egg on the ground and his plate in his lap, taking a bite. “I don’t require anything anyways.”

Sebastian eyed the full glass of water still sitting on the table. “Hm.”

Ciel took a big, defiant bite of gravy-less chicken.

---

It was official.

This had possibly been the biggest mistake of his career.

The sun had just dipped down the horizon when he heard the distinct sounds of footsteps running down the stairs. Fitting for Ciel to catch him in the kitchen once again, like the boy was returning to the scene of the crime where he had brutally murdered Sebastian’s pride only hours before.

And in he came, like a bat out of hell, holding his intact egg up in triumph. He had won the war.

His face was bright as the sun, something that Sebastian found no pleasure in as he grappled with his fate.

“... I feel that this test needs another day.” He tried in vain.

Ciel shook his head. “You gave your word. No going back now.”

Sebastian groaned, hiding his face behind his hand as he sunk down into one of the kitchen chairs. He sighed, gesturing across the little table to the chair right across from him. He listened as Ciel shuffled over, taking a seat and setting the egg down on the table with a soft plunk. The kitchen table of negotiation.

“... I have conditions.” Sebastian said plainly, taking his face out of hiding now that he was sure he didn’t look on the verge of tears. 

Ciel nodded eagerly and receptively, a much more enthusiastic audience than he usually is. 

“The dog will not share the same name as me.” He said sternly, despite it being a ridiculous request.

“The name is already picked out, so there will be no trouble there.” Ciel said, leaning forward excitedly.

Sebastian sighed, still in disbelief that he was agreeing to this at all. “You said you wanted a hunting dog, so you will get a hunting dog. We will go to a proper breeder and collect one that is already housebroken. No puppies, am I understood?”

Ciel did not look disappointed in the slightest. He nodded just as eagerly as before. “Anything else?”

God this receptiveness was disturbing.

“It will not go on any furniture that you would accept guests.” Sebastian said sternly. “I will not have people leaving the manor covered in dog hair.”

“Understood.” Ciel agreed, watching him intently. Sebastian narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what else Ciel wanted.

“... Those are my only demands.”

But he still stared at him, almost like he was losing confidence. It took Sebastian a while to realize that he was waiting for the explicit confirmation, something to set this plan in stone. He sighed. “We will leave in the morning.”

That smile was back, just as bright as the sun.

---

They left first thing in the morning, with Ciel already up and laying out clothing on his own by the time Sebastian opened the door. So he was capable of such behavior. What a miracle.

Sebastian had taken some comfort when they arrived at the breeder’s, who trotted out his most well behaved dogs that he had deemed “fit for an earl” (Sebastian was happy to have an ally in this situation. God knows Bard hadn’t been any help).

But of course, the one that caught Ciel’s eye was a wild-tempered greyhound who nearly topped him over trying to lick his face.The boy had laughed, only half-way trying to push the dog off of him while the other scratched behind the beast’s ear encouragingly.

The breeder, who had initially apologized profusely for the dog’s behavior, laughed at the sight and said “I suppose the Earl is just a boy.”

A traitorous leech if Sebastian had ever met one-

So of course the wretched creature came home with them.

On top of being nearly uncontrollable, the cursed little thing was ugly as could be. Long in every sense of the word and fairly pathetic looking. The only silver lining that could be found in this was that the beast had the decency to ignore Sebastian entirely, lavishing all his ghastly affection on Ciel instead.

This affection did seem to delight Ciel though, who Sebastian had never seen smile as much as he did that day.

So maybe the dog wasn’t so bad.

“He cannot be on the bed!” Sebastian protested, attempting to wave the creature off of the comforter and pulling his hand away when the damned thing snapped its jaws at his sleeve as if Sebastian’s arm was the rope toy that Ciel had wasted his whole afternoon throwing across the garden.

Ciel’s head popped through the top of his nightdress and his attention went right back to the dog (as if it hadn’t been there all day). “I don’t take guests in my bedroom, so he can be on the bed.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, watching in disgust as the thing dragged its ham bone from dinner on the bed right next to it. Ciel climbed in, petting the dog behind his left ear and delighting in the way it threw its head back affectionately, trying to reach the boy’s face in order to lick it. “Good boy, Detective!”

“Call him by his proper name,” Sebastian scolded, lifting the boy up by the armpits and tossing him onto the sheets so he could pull the comforter up to his chin. The dog bounded up after him, letting out a bark that made Sebastian flinch back in disgust with his hands up. “He will never respond to it if you keep calling him ‘Detective’.”

The dog also didn’t deserve such a title. The lights were not all on upstairs.

“Alright then,” Ciel scratched the top of the damned creature’s head as he settled down on top of the comforter, as close to the boy as he could manage. “Good boy, Sherlock.”

Sherlock Holmes was the dog’s full, legal name. Which made Sebastian roll his eyes. “Don’t praise him for such behavior, he wished to take my hand as a souvenir.”

“He would never harm a fly,” Ciel cooed unbecomingly, snuggling closer to the animal. “Would you, boy?”

The dog groaned, both his and his little master’s energy seeming to have left their bodies like a lightning flash leaves a stormcloud. Sebastian moved about the room, picking up the clothing that had gotten scattered around the floor by Sherlock himself, who seemed to think everything but eating and sleeping was a game. In a sense, he supposed that meant he fit his master perfectly.

He could feel Ciel doze off, falling into a deep sleep at an alarming speed. His soft snores filled the room, making Sebastain smile fondly.

“You pulled the wool over my eyes once again, Young Lord.” He whispered, depositing the clothes into a small hamper for washing while the rest of the house slept. “Equal parts clever and cruel.”

Even he couldn’t shake the pride, watching the boy smile in his sleep after his victory. In a way, cruelty was their way of being kind. Not the excessive kind, but the kind that forced their days into a chess game of sorts. And when Ciel was able to pull the rug from underneath Sebastian, it made him feel… significant.

Which was a ridiculous thought to have. He was already plenty significant.

But seeing himself reflected back, growing sharper and harsher, and somehow better than him by the day… It was almost a purpose on its own.

That pride melted away to annoyance when the boy turned in his sleep, his eyepatch still on. Honestly, it was like Sebastian had to do everything.

He set the laundry down, walking over to the bed and reaching his hand towards Ciel’s sleeping form.

That was when a set of sharp teeth snapped down on his hand, forcing him to jump back. He propped his hand away, blood undoubtedly dripping onto the carpet as Sherlock let go of him with a vicious snarl. Sebastian immediately removed his glove, attempting to use it to reduce the mess as he swore under his breath.

He looked back up at the dog, who stood over his boy protectively as he growled lowly at Sebastian. His teeth were bared, still showing evidence of the attack he had given as a warning. 

Sebastian went to scold the damned beast when his eyes fell on the contract seal, painted red and exposed now that the glove was removed. It made his voice drop into his stomach with a heavy kind of thud. He supposed in a way, he had been very wrong  about Sherlock. He was just smart enough to protect his little master.

And he knew a threat when he saw one.

“Good boy, Detective.” Sebastian said sadly as the dog laid across Ciel’s torso, not once taking his eyes off of Sebastian. “Good boy.”

[wixelt]

...that thing about players adapting and Anne as the Grimm Reaper got me thinking

Players aren't just effected by their environment. Think about Doc. His drocs were incorporated from fan design, his horns were incorporated from fan design.

A simmilar thing can be said about Rendog's ears. How often do creators add lore pieces to their skins?

Players are very close to deific, even if they have no divine power. They're affected by belief and what is believed about them. Appearance, power, tendencies

Decisions.

The Calamity trio are all probably going to become players. By the time they leave Amphibia, they're probably already at some between stage due to their tutaliges in player magics. They are that much closer to immortal.

So as time goes on, the three main species of amphibians begin to form hero cults to their respective saviors,

The girls had all gained tendencies of their foster races from their stay so nothing is really notices at first, but maybe the girls start getting unnatural highlights in their hair. Maybe Anne can never keep things from getting stuck in hers. Maybe Sasha starts having hers glow and heat up and blow strangely even without wind. Maybe Marcy's gives way to white almost-fur.

Maybe their eyes start glowing an odd color again. Maybe some powers they never expected to get back begin returning.

After all, of the things you let go, you'd be surprised what makes it's way back to you.

But maybe that's not all. Maybe the frogs talk about how good of a Gaurdian Anne will make. About how they know what she'll choose, she simply can't help it with how big her heart is. Maybe they start praying to her because maybe she's already up there, looking down on them and listening.

And maybe that belief becomes a self fulfilling prophesy.

Reaper Anne's her own AU by @wolfinshipclothing that I highly recommend for Amphibia fans. They're really good & absolutely worth a read, but i'm not going to appropriate their ideas.

As for everything else in this ask, though...

Players - as you say - are born partly of not just their environment but also perception. Like some divine beings - though only some players are divine, they definitely border on higher states of being - players self-actualize, their looks - beyond the skin deep aspect of changing clothing - & abilities shifting based on others' views of them & how they in turn view those perceptions.

Doc's the iconic example (though Ren & Stress are also apparent), his form having been augmented repeatedly over time as he chose to embrace perceptions others had of his achievements. That said, something like his robotic prosthetics do not fall into this category, being compensation for getting nerfed after a certain battle he came out on top in.

As may be clear, these changes are only usually by will of the player themselves, & the influence of outside factors can render unexpected alterations, as they would to any non-player.

Regardless, the effect of belief on a player is a cycle. Ideas gain traction - usually factual but sometimes imagined - & if the player chooses to embrace them or is forced to take them on, that change is actualised & feeds back into the belief.

And as their initial adventure in Amphibia draws to an end, this is something Anne, Sasha & Marcy start to learn first hand.

Though the mechanics aren't entirely understood - & the exact final circumstances that led to it for each girl are for now not something we'll touch on - the trio are on the border between non-player & player.

Players beget players, to a certain extent, & each teen's had several Hermits tutor them in one aspect of player skill or another (False's combat for Anne, Scar's magics for Sasha & Mumbo's redstone for Marcy, to name only a few). Past a certain point, those skills become inherent. Ingrained. Something they draw on as easily as breathing.

And around them forms everything else a fledgling player inherits.

The day Anne - months after the invasion - accidentally drops one of her tennis rackets into a weird pocket space & realizes she's "grown" a player inventory is deeply startling for her.

She'll focus on that for now, though - as will Sasha & Marcy.

She isn't quite ready to comtemplate the ramifications of possibly being immortal.

Besides, there's much more to think about in the meantime.

The "hero cults" aren't straight up divine worship. The people of Amphibia recognize these three girls - though their saviors - are not gods. They're mortal - even by the Hermit definition - & flawed. So these "cults" are more a societal idea formed from the gratitude of the folk they saved. A pervasive perception of Anne, Sasha & Marcy that remains in public consciousness. Not idealized, but still given a place of respect & admiration.

And though this doesn't halt physical aging until the girls are much older - actualization is a choice even if its subconscious at times & I imagine the girls would want to grow up - the girls do see the reverence they earned as heroes begin to impact their existence as they take on the mantle of "player" & their forms become malleable.

Things such as the quirks of a given amphibian race are brushed off, at first. These are expected when you spend enough time immersed in a culture & there's a good chance the girls would've picked these up anyway. Regardless, they never really go away.

But Anne does start to notice things, after the initial startling & getting corroborating incidents from Sasha & Marcy. The way she always has leaves in her hair, as when she tries to remove them they come back in similar spots no matter where she is (she barely notices them anyway, as if they're not even there). The way her eyes seem to develop a permanent fleck of blue that grows or shrinks based on her mood, matched by a very subtle highlight in her hair.

And if it wasn't for her opting for sturdier footwear now, she instinctively knows she'd be losing a shoe every other day.

Sasha likewise develops marks of pink in her eyes & hair, & Marcy green. Sasha's hair pulses & dances at times - usually when she's upset or angry - as if driven by an inner fire. Marcy's may or may not develop that highlight of white-ish fur alongside the green (I like the idea, but you'll have to explain the reasoning).

And then, of course, their calamity powers.

The circumstances of the Guardian's "test" are up in the air for now, but coming away from the invasion, Anne notices the power the trio gained in those final moments has - while waning - not entirely faded.

With their new immortality & other factors at play, the Guardian wasn't able to get the successor they wanted, but regardless of whether it was direct intervention (remember what I said about outside forces) or something they simply allowed to happen, these abilities are here to stay, now an ingrained part of their self-image as players.

Because of the things they lost or chose to let go of, they can think of worse things that could've come back around.

Anne decides they need to consult the Hermits over this, & Gem especially in regard to their powers. She's probably the closest match to what they now have, after all.

And as I implied, the circumstances of the finale may not lend themselves well to the Guardian having the ability to easily pick a successor. That said, given the way the offer was presented & shared, is it any wonder at least some of the traits espoused find a genuine place in Anne's outlook going forward, actualization or not?

Because Guardian or not, Amphibia's always going to have someone looking out for them. :)

[elektroyu]

Tell us about your OCs! Give us a quick introduction and something about them that makes you happy!

Ok this is probably going to get a little messy and long, but I'll try. Thank you for asking this, you have no idea how happy I am right now 🥹 Also be aware that I love Catboys and winged humans. Also mostly old sketchy art.

What I love about them is more or less the same for each of them: most of the main characters of each story have traits that I saw or still see in myself, so I have a strong personal connection to them and the bonds they share with the other characters. I also simply love their appearances, drawing them makes me very happy (I just don't do it very often because I struggle with expressing things).

Mura's Voice

Arokhal & Kharazhak: Aro works quite successfully under his father Orazhar, who runs the "military" of the remaining population of their winged race, but he's generally disliked by most of his peers for being arrogant, aloof and uninterested. He makes sort of an effort for the young ladies of high society, who do enjoy his charisma and a chance to get in his bed, but most are aware that he's not serious about it. Khaz is Aro's mura (a type of magic that runs in certain bloodlines) and they share an intimate bond. Khaz has been mentoring Aro in secret since he was young, which made him outstanding in using the mura magic.

Amin, Padavoz & Haizur: Compared to the rest of the cast Amin sometimes seems a little boring and him being the nice-guy-from-next-door type doesn't exactly help that, either. However, he has quite a few demons to deal with even before Aro forces him to go into the parallel world (don't have a name for it yet). Being there doesn't lessen his struggles at all, but over time things get rolling and he has to come to terms with himself and his problems and wants. Not the least of his problems are the two muras inside him who both don't necesarily care about his wellbeing, let alone seek any sort of relationship with him. Padavoz, who is regarded as just a myth nowadays, sees him as just a vessel and tool and doesn't care about anything save for revenge for the hand he was dealt. Haizur barely has any sense of self and thus is struggling a lot with the WHY of life and existence, which simply renders them unable to have any connection to others. They're the most unhinged and unpredictable character in his story, you never know if they'll help or sabotage or do nothing at all if a dangerous situation arises.

Kavi & Oru: Kavi is a bright, happy boy from a good family. Being the mura bearer of the family is something he takes very seriously and is proud of, even though Oru is by far the weakest mura anyone has ever seen. On top of being weak, Oru tends to be distractable and airheaded, so Kavi not only needs to be the responsible one of the two, but he also needs to find solutions mostly by himself. Despite this, he really loves Oru a lot.

Karakal, Orazhar & Kamavokh: Karakal (and his mura) may or may not have a place in the final story, but if he does he starts off as an antagonist. He's lived a sheltered, but pretty secluded life in a remote town and doesn't know who or where is parents/ family are, nor why he grew up the way he did. He's hotheaded and never backs down from a challenge. He's also determined to find out about his family. Orazhar is Aro's father and head of the "military", whose goal it is to preserve the muras and general magic abilities of his people. Since these abilities get lost the more their race mixes with humans they strive to strengthen the bloodlines and at the same time prevent more mixing. He knows this will require lots of sacrifices, but he's willing to do what has to be done to achieve his vision. Kamavokh is technically just Aro's direct subordinate, but is often seen substituting him on duty. He's also the closest thing to a friend Aro has. He's good at what he does, has a good heart and strives to always do the right thing.

Inra & Sann: These two originally had been a fixed part in the story, but over time I changed Inra's role and discarded Sann entirely. I'm thinking of giving them their own little side story some time. Inra is a yavomur (shapeshifter) and because that's basically the dirty, undesirable counterpart of mura bearers he considers himself lucky Orazhar lets him work for him. He's not happy about the situation, but as long as he's just doing scouting and tracking work and not required to kill people he goes along with it. He discovers Amin in the human world and later also tracks them for Orazhar. During one of his visits to the human world he meets Sann. Sann was originally still in high school and very involved in Padavoz' issues, but I think I'll change her into an adult and keep her removed from the main story entirely. I now imagine her as a relatively successful writer (she probably writes fantasy romances), who loves plants and cats and her quiet peaceful life, but she feels something is missing. She gets an idea of what that could be when she meets Inra (in his not-shapeshifted form finally; at first she only meets him in cat form). They quickly form a deep bond, but unfortunately he can't stay in the human world forever. He needs to figure out what kind of life he wants to live, and she needs to decide if she wants to leave everything behind for him or vice versa.

Feline Fabric

Aurel, Ivo & Miriam: Aurel is stubborn, self-centered, quick to anger and has no regard for others, which is his way of coping with the circumstances in his life. His owners are an elderly pair who never could have kids, and while the husband realizes that Aurel is a very bad fit for them his wife keeps holding on to her expectations, which results in constant friction in the household and ultimately in Aurel being literally confined in the house (barred windows and all). He desperately seeks attention, though, and, once outside, finds a very willing recipient in Ivo. Ivo is a fashion designer who works for a big label and makes a very good living from that, but finds himself art blocked more and more to the point of barely being able to work at all. He secretly dreams of working in the very niche market for mokat* fashion (* = catpeople, term may change if I can think of something better) and when Aurel appears this gets rammed into his face full force. His head immediately gets swarmed by idea after idea and he really latches onto that despite everyone cautioning him about Aurel's lacking personality and bad influence. He finds himself getting caught up in Aurel and his seductions way more than he should, which causes him to nearly go mad. Miriam is Ivo's fiance and sees pretty clearly what's happening between him and Aurel. She tries to warn Ivo again and again that he's going down a dangerous path where she wouldn't be able to follow, and she starts to hate Aurel for trying to take away the life with Ivo she dreamed of.

Rajnish, Miral & Numa: Rajnish has a knack for healing (and magic, although that's not widely accepted as something real and not part of the main story). He's one of the rare voices of reason that Aurel is willing to listen to (because 1. he doesn't immediately judge Aurel by his behavior like everyone else and 2. they share a fondness for sensual activities), and he's guiding him to a place to live and his old mentor when things with Ivo get out of hand. Miral & Numa have their own little side story about finding themselves a new life apart from their old master. Miral is desperately trying to hold on to his old life, even though he hates it, because he doesn't see the possibility of anything else. At least he has food and shelter and a good standing. Numa unintentionally challenges that when he arrives there, but takes a liking to him enough to also intentionally try to encourage Miral to take life into his own hands and decide something better for himself.

____

I mean I have more OCs, but these are the ones that I tend to think about the most and I reaaallyyyyy want to draw all these things as comics some day 🥹✨

[raitrolling]

If You Wanna Get Well

[Easy reading version on Toyhou.se]

“And… There!”

With a flick of his hand, Velour had made the long strip of fabric he was holding disappear - to the naked eye, at least. The scrap still existed, he could still feel it between his fingers, but he knew the moment he let go he would be unable to find it without blindly running his hands across the floor until the spell wore away. He estimated that with the amount of magic he has and how much power he put into this spell, it would not wear off for a couple hours at minimum. Which is more than enough for what he needed such a spell for.

Viltau, who was currently seated on the cuspblood’s couch, gave a polite applause. 

“Very good! Is this for another one of Hanabi’s challenges, I presume? Or, perhaps a venture into tailoring clothes fit to swindle an emperor?” He says, with a slight joking tone. 

Velour laughs a little. “Oh, no, you got it right the first time. I’ve been set up to try and trick Hanabi once again to prove that I’ve been working on my magic, so what I had been thinking was that I’d construct an invisible yarn maze in one of the rooms! Something that might trip her up, but not be too dangerous if someone else got caught in it?”

Viltau nods, interested. He wouldn’t have expected such an idea from Velour, given that it sounded more like something out of his own playbook… Albeit in a much more family-friendly manner than some of the mazes he has constructed. For one, yarn is less deadly than razor wire. And, it was becoming more abundantly clear why he had been invited over to witness the kitsune troll’s latest magic trick, as it sounded like something he would need a helping hand to complete.

Luckily for Velour, constructing mazes was something Viltau enjoyed quite a bit. And luckily for Viltau, he now had a reason to bring up something important. Something that had been brought up in a conversation with Jikiro, that could threaten to drive a wedge between Velour and his moirail.

That is, the fact that Jamie had been getting a little too chummy with Liiore, something that he knew would upset Velour. 

“I see, that does sound like it could work,” The indigoblood begins, naturally starting to guide the conversation towards his goal. “One would require a large amount of yarn, for starters, as well as some means to fasten them in place. Taping them to the walls would be much too flimsy, and tying them to furniture would render the whole maze useless when one simply needs to move them out of the way. Perhaps a series of hooks could work, the kind that are stuck to the walls rather than drilled in, and would also have to be made invisible so as to not draw suspicion. And then there is the issue of making sure no one else enters the room while the maze is being set up, as this is often a job that requires multiple hours to construct.”

Velour, of course, had already thought of all those factors, but he knew that once his friend became interested in brainstorming an idea out loud, it was near impossible to interject. Once he had finished talking, the cuspblood clapped his hands together and grinned.

“Exactly! And that’s where you come in! Ah, if you have the time and want to, of course.”

Viltau smiled back, then replied with a nod. “Of course, I do have quite a lot of experience in the art of maze building. Which room were you planning on transforming into your personal prank paradise? I could draw up a quick map of the room so we can decide the perfect angles to string up the yar-”

“Well, actually…” Velour looked a little sheepish. “I was just going to ask if you could, ah, distract Jikiro and Hanabi while I put it together myself.”

“Ah.”

Viltau looked disappointed for a moment, but quickly got over it. Transforming a room into an entertainment space to suit a client’s needs may be what he does best, but distracting his matesprit for a couple hours while keeping an eye on his lusus is a close second. And he should have expected such a request from Velour, given the cuspblood’s insistence of doing everything on his own, no matter how insane the workload may be. That’s fine with him, he can play the part of a decoy.

“Fine, I’ll accept your proposal,” The indigoblood nodded, “But, in return, I’d like you to do something for me as well.”

“Ah, sure. And that is…?” Velour tilted his head slightly, and raised an eyebrow. He was immediately suspicious, as he could tell from Viltau’s smirk that he would not like what this request may be.

Viltau leaned forward in his seat, staring directly at the other troll with a sly smile.

“Well, a little birdie told me of a predicament you’ve found yourself in. Something starting with an ‘L’, and ending with an ‘iiore’?”

Velour froze. Viltau continued.

“Now, it is hardly my place to ask you to make amends with someone who I know very well is a sore spot with you. In fact, I likely know better than anyone in the group what happened between the two of you, and I hardly know a single thing. And that sounds like a problem, no? Especially when it is not I who has managed to find myself in a close friendship with him. Would it not be in your best interest to speak with your moirail about it?”

Velour suddenly wished he could use his new invisibility spell on himself. He cast his gaze downward, staring at where the invisible piece of fabric should be in his hands.

“Ah, well, he did mention that he had befriended Liiore recently, but…” He looks back up, waving a hand in a reassuring manner, although the sad look in his eye betrayed the gesture. “I told him it’s fine! He’s allowed to have friends, and you’re right, I can’t make amends. So… I can just be glad that Liiore has someone looking out for him, and that Jamie is finding more people who will treat him kindly. It’s nice that they’re happy, really.”

“But, are you happy?” 

Viltau’s tone was neutral, with a slight inquisitive edge to it, but that simple sentence cut deep. 

The kitsune troll looked tense, shoulders stiffening and averting his eyes from the troll on the couch. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but then refrained. That alone was enough of an answer for Viltau. 

“I know what you’re like, and if you keep bottling it up like this you’re going to end up with far more trouble than it was ever worth. And I, personally, would rather not see Jikiro upset that his friends are going through a rough patch, he’s got more than enough on his plate already.” The indigoblood frowns for a moment, then returns to his usual light yet unreadable tone. “So, if you want me to help you with your magic studies, then I want you to help yourself first. After all, a moirail’s job is to listen to everything that troubles their partner, and then assist them with continuing to grow as a person, no? And one cannot grow if they stay firmly rooted in the past, chasing after an impossible love that is now far out of their reach.”

Velour remained quiet for a moment. He knew Viltau was right, but more importantly that he would not be requesting him to do such a thing if he didn’t think there’d be major consequences. He only gets involved with other people’s business if it affects him or the things he cares about personally. The cuspblood sighed, relaxing his shoulders slightly.

“Well… You’re right, I should. I’m just… Scared, that if I told him what I was like before meeting him, and what I’d done to people I called my friends, that he’d start hating me too. And, I don’t want to ruin what I have with him, I’ve ruined so many other friendships already, and he’s also been through so much…” He continues to not give Viltau any eye contact, and his voice remains at almost a murmur.

“And how do you know that?”

“Huh? Well, he’s told me some of the things that’s happened to him, so-”

“No. How do you know that he’ll hate you for what you’ve done? I cannot make any judgment calls because you have not told me what occurred between yourself and Liiore, and he cannot do the same either. Only one troll in our group is a mind reader, and even they only appear to pick up other people’s thoughts at random. And, it is not as if he wasn’t already aware that his dear moirail enjoys hustling money from his fans.” Viltau smirked making that last comment, and Velour flinched. 

Viltau could be relentless when he knew that was the most effective method of convincing others. Velour knew that well, and also knew that he was fighting a losing battle. If he wanted Viltau’s assistance, then he would have to do what was asked of him, and if he didn’t do it, then he’d risk his magic tricks not going as planned and then having to start from square one with Hanabi. And it was true, he didn’t know how Jamie would react, but he did know that the blueblood is already accepting enough of his flaws to want to be his moirail in the first place. There really was no reason to keep hiding it from him other than his own fears about things he cannot control. 

And… If he just let these feelings that sit in the pit of his stomach fester, those bubbling moments of envy and sadness over the fact his moirail can be so close to his old flushcrush when he cannot, then he knew it could get ugly. If he could get this off his chest, maybe he really could…

“Okay, I’ll… I’ll tell him.” Velour finally looked back up at his friend, with an expression that appeared to be one of determination, albeit diluted by his many other anxieties. “But, if anything goes wrong, could you, maybe, ah… keep helping me out? Since, well, you know… The infighting would affect your own entertainment as well, if we couldn’t have group hang-outs again, like what happened last time.”

The kitsune troll’s slight cheeky smile made Viltau snort and shake his head, amused. How that man manages to trick so many fans into giving him money is beyond him, when he struggles this much at trying to use Viltau’s own tactics against him. But, perhaps that really is his modus operandi: Endearing people into agreeing with his silly requests. 

“Of course, you have my word.”

[2n2n]

Jibaku Shounen dreams I have had recently:

In this dream, I am reading a new chapter wherein Hanako suddenly starts acting extremely and effusively affectionate to Tsukasa, like a heat seeking missile. He picks him up bridal-carry style and manicly runs him around the school, talking at him sweetly, until Tsukasa is utterly incoherent ecstatic, overstimulated, giddy, giggly, kicking legs, losing his little mind; then somehow (????) this allows Hanako to completely usurp control back over Tsukasa, and he sends him back into the pits of his own boundary, trapping him where he cannot leave again. Yashiro watches this happen and doesn't know how to feel about it; once Tsukasa is gone, Hanako more or less just claps the dust off his hands and is like "well, that's that"… Yashiro is, somehow uncomfortable with what happened, tries to say something, but Hanako simply responds that all the troubles lately had been caused by Tsukasa's actions, right? So, this is a normal solution, isn't this what should have happened from the beginning? She's shut up by that… but she doesn't feel, good. She knew what it was like for Sumire, in the pit of the boundary… trapped there… she wrestles with Tsukasa's alleged actions, his unknown motivations… and how haunting it was to see Hanako display so much open affection, only to subdue him, only as a ploy (could it really be nothing but a ploy?)…. really, it was as if the entire reason Tsukasa had been short/brief around Amane up until now-- quick to poof away after a word or two-- was to avoid this-- to avoid Amane the opportunity to quickly subdue him, as he always can, and return things to their arrangement… resisting the pull of his love for Amane which renders him so at his mercy!

In the dream me reading the chapter was just losing my mind, I was like AAAAAAAAAA and so excited to see the fujoshi response to this chapter haha…

Much vaguer vision half-asleep was this scene where Kou and Nene are interacting with Natsuhiko, not within the Broadcast Clubroom proper, but adjacent to it. While scrambling around between locations/a hallway adjacent due to shenanigans, dashing here or there, Nene happens to turn just in time to see, through a crack in a door, what is undeniably Hanako and Tsukasa interacting. But she's in no position to stop and ask questions (she is literally running…) and so, she has to just bookmark it. It is as if time briefly slows as she spies their shoes/socks and the impression of their slacks and hakama.

Discussing this concept with Bird later, he suggested it would be so ideal if this event involved something like seeing Haku and Koku Joudai together, or seeing Hanako with Koku-Joudai. I also liked the idea of something sadly less visual but so audibly distinct, like simply hearing Hanako bark "Tsukasa!" in another room out of sight. Some sort of confirmation they confer with one another more than what we see.

Really that subconscious thought is certainly circling on how hard I obsess over this particular interstitial drawing…

which features entirely locations Hanako and Nene flit past these chapters, except right before the roof, it depicts the broadcast room … did Hanako, visit, it???? Why on earth is it the location 'leading' to his final destination?? are these places even architecturally adjacent? If only other random rooms were in this image, if only it was the entire school of locations, and if only Hanako was not specifically blocking the connection between these things with his hand, hiding it. An image that may mean nothing or everything that gives me dream-visions to this day

[hinamie]

hi hina! i hope you've been well 🩵 for the art asks: 5, 6, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 22, 23 🎨🖌️🖼️

Mariam !!! It's so good to hear from you I hope you've been well also <3 <3 <3 this will get long

5. Anything you haven’t drawn yet but want to?

oooooh I've had an idea in my head for an s/e piece inspired by visuals from the blood sweat and tears mv for like 5 years but no matter how hard I throw myself at it I can never get it to look right so i've just been waiting until i manage to catch lightning in a bottle i guess :< (((I also found a few notes in an old "to draw" folder from like 2 years ago that include but are not limited to: jjk band au with guitarist brothers yuuji+sukuna/bassist megu/drummer nobara; gojo in crocs. ))))

6. Which artists inspire you right now?

HHHHH its the same crowd as usual i am so hides face in hands bc they intimidate me /pos :'))))) vacuumchan, ohprcr, gloomyhome, trickywagon, meru90 to name a few ANYWAY RUNNING HIDING

15. Biggest artist pet peeve?

this is a tough one im such a hater and everything inconveniences me ,,, when the perfect csp brush costs money >:C,, when u cant find reference from this One Specific Angle >:C,, when u dont realize youve merged the wrong layer until you've been working for hours and all of a sudden your folders are out of order and its a mess >:C SPEAKING OF MERGING LAYERS hot take i think that they should invent a way to let u merge layer modes without converting them all to the same type. let me put my multiply with my glow dodge !!! cowards.

16. What’s the most daunting part of your process?

rendering :') so much of it is trusting the process and there are so many ugly phases that make u wonder if u were ever good at art to begin with

17. What inspires you?

hdsj i mean im a fanartist so i think it goes without saying that I'm mainly inspired by the content I like ,, but i also am very inspired by fashion !!!! saw a guy walking the other day with a hoodie that said CASH FOR SOULS | COLD HARD CASH | CA$H4SOULZ.com and i had to take a picture of it like a creep bc tht + Sukuna ??? hello??? anyway yea ive got a pinterest board dedicated to insp-y clothes and a notes folder dedicated to jotting down cute outfits I see in public

18. Do you have any larger projects you’d like to pursue?

I've always wanted to do speedpaints ! but even more than that I want to do something aNYTHING with my ocverse but alas...time.....planning....plot.. so in the meantime they simply live in my head bouncing around like globs of wax in a lava lamp

19. Favourite character(s) to draw?

megumi jjk gojo jjk sukuna/yuuji jjk kotori love live rina love live ichigo tokyo mew mew + shiro n eden from My Brain ,,, im crying the duality of my fav chars is either feral shounen twink or idol/magical girl and eden is both simultaneously actually

22. When is your prime time to work on your art?

usually mid to late afternoon but it depends on the season because it gets so HOT in my room in the warm months which I dread >:( How it works is if I start in mid-late afternoon then I'm able to hit my stride and draw basically through the entire evening (also because of the aforementioned Heat I vastly prefer drawing in fall/winter because that means I don't have to evacuate my room at 4pm sdfhdgshd)

23. Do you listen to music or watch shows while you work? If so, what’s your favourite?

I have to have music or something on while I'm drawing or the fans in my cintiq will drive me insane . Sometimes i listen to music that matches/drastically contrasts the piece I'm working on but most of the time I can't be bothered and just throw on my youtube mix which consists embarassingly of mainly vocaloid and utau ,, though sometimes if a piece is kicking my ass and I need to just hunker down and get shit done then I'll put the entire discography of an artist I like on shuffle (some favs include 1D/waterparks/former vandal/harumaki gohan) and for some reason the Predictability activates intense productivity mode?? I cant explain it gdsj its like I have music on that I like but it's not jumping around between artists so I don't get too distracted or excited whenever the song changes

[overcookedsushi]

Kill your Darlings

So I’ve been building a Freak Troupe for few years now...

Zey have not been really posted here, I don’t really use zis site as much as I really should, and I do plan on starting to bring ze rest of zem over…

It started as only nine, but ze numbers have been steadily increasing as more and more ideas flow and come to me…

Each freak possessing ze same rules:

1. Some kind of monster. Folklore, Cryptid, Fantasy… Ze more obscure ze better~ 2. Some kind of circus/freakshow/street sideshow or main attraction… 3. Some kind of hobby… Originally I had much more restriction on zis rule in particular, but I eventually let up on zese restrictions to give myself more options…

Zis zese rulesets, it vas originally just supposed to be some art exercises to help me develop better as an artist, but after ze 3rd and 4th ones… it became somezing so so much more to me Now zis all zat said, I have been vanting to make a character based around a Nuckelavee for a vhile now… Ze design is so fucking cool, I love how uncanny and lobsided zey are depicted as… It vas one of ze designs I vanted to make as ze original set of nine even… but it just never looked good to me… it alvays failed… and I tried so hard... viz so many iterations... and I vant to share zat story as a cautionary tale... -------------------- I do not have it on hand, but ze very first iteration vas basically half a torso on unicycle, viz sword hilt sticking out for head... (Unknown Monster)/Unicyclist/Forger as your elements... Ze design vas not developed enough to survive ze cutting room floor vhen ozer designs simply out shown it, so zen came ze first design I have records of...

Zis is vhen Nuckelavee and daredevil became inseperable in my mind, I vas convinced zis vas paring zat HAD to vork... But zis design in particular, ze horse felt to veak, ze rider bit to normal persay?... Scrapped.

V3 felt bit better, and honestly had I tried to vork bit more on zat horse zis is probably ze design I vould have ended up staying viz, but horses are hard... So vhat better decision to make zan to replace ze horse viz somezing I suck even more at draw?

Viz him being daredevil, having him have bike make sense to me... I really did love ze idea of ze bike being just rocket viz vheels, but cars and bikes are still a veak point for me...

I vould try to make ze bike bit more streamlined so references could help more... and I did like it... I still do... Big problem zough, ze Nuckelavee disappeared in zese iterations, it became more of a headless horseman... If I vas villing to separate Nuckelavee from boz Daredevil and ze idea of having bomb head, zen zis design also vould have been great... but I couldn't let go of ze ear vorm of an idea...

So I tried again... came up viz sketch zat yet again I vas super happy viz... but I could not for ze life of me get ze colour to look good or to pop in good vays... So I tried to make some big changes...

I tried to take ze same idea, same pose and give it different zeme... Again... despite loving it, it just didn't look quite right once I started to try and give it full render, so I scrapped it again and tried again...

Ze last one gave me ze idea of "Vhat if zis vas ze concept of ze Horseman of Var"? And idea created zis character... A cactus knight vielding a gun lance, whos spikes could put anyone in frenzy... Var vhere ever he vent... but it had anozer problem... Nuckelavee vas replaced viz headless horseman again... Daredevil vas replaced viz jousting... ze original idea of him being a drug addicted has been missing since he lost of bike... Eventually I had to ifnally admit to it... ze design vasn't fucking vorking... So I took all ze elements I vanted and gave zem new homes... My very first unicycle idea vill get ze daredevil idea... basically sticking half a mummy on one wheel and called it cast... basically a joke character... Ze Nuckelavee vill be saved for ze Horseman of War... Attached to a train, called "Engine of War" And ze new character I basically just created, tvisted and warped...

Weed Wacker... Dullahan/Jousting/Pumpkin Carving... Originally all ze cactus vas suppoed to be pumpkins, but zis is ze character zat replaced ze last iteration... Killing it... It only felt appropriate for zem to be vearing pieces from him like a trophy. I vorked on zis character for vell over year... so many times if I had been able to disconnect some ideas from eachozer I could have been done so much sooner... but I held onto one zought for so long... it caused ze death of so many designs zat vill likely never see ze light of day again... Alvays been open to huge changes... No idea is so precious it is immune to execution... Kill your darlings... it vill help you in ze long run.

[artleaguemdcnorth]

Drawing Class - working the Eye sighting technique / 10/3/23

We will begin with today’s class with a series of warm up  gesture exercises.

Once the class has completed the fifteen minutes of warm-up (quick gestures with dominat and non-dominat hand )  then we will begin with the assignment for today. 

As always, post all work on your tumblr for review.

Drawing objects Accurately using the sight-size technique:

When you draw a variety of objects, the space between them is as important as drawing each object correctly and with accurate proportions.

How do we accomplish that ? 

The sight-size measurement approach allows you to measure the distance between objects as well as helping you draw each object accurately and correctly.

Sight-size means that the object should be same size as it would appear to be if the paper were transparent and you simply traced the object on it at arms length.

You will be measuring the objects with your pencil while holding it at arms length.

Sep up your still life with several objects with a relative size relation. That means you do not want to have a small object next to a supper big object instead, have a good variety of props. Include a small bottle, a cup or glass to use as your measuring stick source.

Look at the photo of my still life, I put a bottle at the center and objects around it keeping an interesting negative to positive space relation between them

In your paper draw a very light line that divides the paper horizontaly ande verticaly.

This will give you a four quadrant breakdown. This breakdown  will provide you with a relative  height and width of each object.

Once you are finished drawing (when the drawing is completed) these lines will be erased. But to start out it will give you a reference of where the objects stand.

As you look at your still life, objects will be in relation to those center lines, either above or below , to the left or the right.

Now stand approximately  4-5 feet away from your still life , extend your arm to measure objects accordingly.

Start at the center. 

Find the object that sits at the cross hair of the vertical and horizontal line.

Close one eye and squint with the other. This allows you to diminish depth perception.

Now start measuring using one main object.  In my still life that would be the bottle.

I will now size that bottle using a charcoal pencil. The bottle’s height will be the measure (ruler) for every other object and the space between them. 

This technique is called sighting and it is important aid to help you understand how to depict three dimmensional forms into a two dimmensional surface.

Measure objects according to the size of the assigned object ( again in my still life  that would be the bottle because is at the very center, the intersection of the vertical and horizontal lines).

 In my still life the tennis ball is almost half the height of the bottle .

Though this will be a tedious endeavor, it will you to render an accurate and proportionate drawing.

Here are some tips for a successful drawing:

Keep the same position and distance from Still Life as you draw.

Choose a main object as your source of measurement.

Look at the objects before you with your non dominant eye closed. (Usually that is the left eye for right handed people. )

Keep your arm extended and straight as you measure.

Keep the pencil vertical as you measure, not tilted or slanted.

Be as accurate and truthful to the form you are seeing.

I have added a time lapse so you can get an idea of how I am doing it.

When I am away from the camera I am sizing my objects.

Also notice that I mark lightly where my objects should be .

I put a light line mark for top , bottom and sides so I can have an idea where my object will be before I begin drawing the contours of the object. 

I only had time to mark my my objects briefly. This would continue for another hour to perfect and correct the drawing.

Unlike myself, You will have two hours in class to do this assignment . So take your time, measure and draw accordingly.

Asynchronous Thursday

Continue practicing sight-size measurement technique in your sketchbook.

You want to be accurate, do not generalize the form of an object. All bottles are not created equal. A beer bottle is different from a coca-cola bottle or water bottle etc.

Using one page per object and drawing, study the proportions of the following:

1)  a bottle of wine ( or olive oil,Juice or any other bottle as long as is a tall bottle )

2)   coffee mug

3)   a plate with 3 fruits on it

Note all drawings should have the horizon line noted and  included in the drawing. Objects are always on, slightly above or below of that horizon line.

All class work needs to be posted by end of class today.

Homework

Create a 10 Value chart in your sketchbook. Use a ruler to create your value bars.

This assignment will help you with the work we are going to do on next week.

Working with charcoal, charcoal pencil and pencil,  work , 10 values that range from black to white. 10 being the darkest and 1 being your lightest tone.

See below an example on how to do this. 

Top row use charcoal stick. 

Second row, use charcoal pencil. 

Third Row, work with a regular pencil.

Start creating in your sketchbook a tonal chart or value chart using the following:

1) charcoal stick

2) the charcoal pencil

3) regular pencil.

You will create a ten space value chart like the one you see below.

You will have three separate value charts for each medium shown above. 

This homework is due by sunday at 5pm.

Should be done in the sketchbook and posted with title Value chart to your personal portfolio.

Note:

the chart below has seven values (or 9) , you are doing ten values.

value chart above

[artbyifer]

#EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE (evilest laugh imaginable)#ok but seriously this is stunning im stuck here staring at it and woof woof#really!!!! wow i cant imagine something so cool.#xeno stuff is so cool!! i should look for it more often its very fun. this is an insane good and fun interpretation you have here#like really i love love love love seeing these guys like this and thinking about them#i cant explain its just very fun to see this type of character design it makes me yearn for stories.#i generally very love carapacians so its not rare of me. more excuses to think of carapacians? tumblr user davepepsisprite???#also the rendering and colours!! wow!! such a good piece!#also ive drawn DD and CD playing cards before so it was SO GOOD TO SEE THAT HERE HEHE its for meeeee#really im wewewewe#very interesting to read your notes on the drawing in the description! very cool!!#im happy you were happy i requested this LOL im always here for stuff liek this#well anyways yeah hahah idk for talking too much here im just hehehehhihihihihhi#thanks!! have a nice holidays too 🥺✨#homestuck#reblog tag#but seriously wow you did a whole illustration this is amazing im very happy (davepepisprite)

Heck yeah, talk all you like I'm loving hearing it :D And since you are also enjoying me talk, here's some commentary!

Xeno stuff is the best, but I rarely see it for intermission! When I do for the carapacians it's usually just some ball jointing, maybe some face seams. Which, don't get me wrong, I Adore, but it just Wouldn't Do for my versions. I crave a bit higher xeno% than that. So I've been working on these weird ball-jointed megachessatron people for like a decade or so now, but this illustration it was the first time I brought them into 3D.

As I said, I had just recently gotten a decent idea of how to do the arms and hands, but I think the hands at least will need a redo in the future since while I was posing them I noticed that it would be difficult to both hold and manipulate the cards one-handed since they only have 3 digits and no fleshy padding for friction. Might bifurcate each into 2 hooves instead of one? Not sure yet; the other option would be to simply take the form given and work out different methods of holding the cards that are not just by hoof-tip. We would be using the palm and the side of the fingers and such after all.

It was a lovely coincidence while posing them that with CD's foreleg seated over DD's upper arm, the top of his skirt slotted just so onto DD's shoulder and CD's arm is at a perfect height to wrap around DD's neck joint. It makes this a very natural hold. Droog scratching/rubbing Deuce's head was more a function of having something to do with his arm, but I like how it came out. A bit goofy but not as awkward as it would be as a human gesture, and obviously affectionate.

Without the line present on the other carapacians' sprites, I'm not sure where I would place the mouth on Clubs Deuce; perhaps he simply has a much smoother mandible seam? Or maybe it's under the chin, though that would be difficult to eat with I would think, without the same amount of lower jaw. Luckily I don't have to do anything about it if I only have Diamonds Droog talking in the picture.

Homestuck Secret Santa for @davepepsisprite for HSSS 2023

They asked for "CD/DD (carapacians..)" and "please no humanstuck/humanizations," hopefully this fits the bill :D

This is the first time that I have tried differentiating carapacian bodytypes with this bauplan, and I think it came out well! CD is in general shrunk, but also has a shorter skirt, thicker segments, a bigger head, and 2 fewer torso sections (the diamonds and their associated crowns).

And I FINALLY have something approaching done wrt the arms; though I think I'll end up fiddling with the hands a bit more since being able to manipulate the cards they're holding with only 3 digits seems difficult.

Overall, I am happy with this piece and I am glad that @davepepisprite prompted it. Happy holidays! :D

[legionofpotatoes]

Sue.

[prints]

[jaenessaispas]

My body doesn’t belong to me anymore and I don’t have control over it

[transmisogyny-explained]

I would really appreciate if TMEs didn’t scroll past this post.

Generally, people (who aren’t transmisogynists that speak over trans women and brush aside our issues) seem to understand at this point that “f*mboy” is a transmisogynistic slur and transmisogyny-exempt people shouldn’t reclaim it. But I think it’s important to have a discussion about how the meme itself also ties into transmisogynistic fetishism, so that’s what I’ll be attempting to explain today.

CW/TW: Transmisogyny; perisexism; misgendering; talk of porn, fetishism, and genitals; uncensored slurs; homomisia mention; minor p*dophilia mention

The origins of the current mainstream image/meme of the femboy can be traced back to the anime/manga trope of the futanari, which is the Japanese word for hermaphrodite. In anime/manga (particularly hentai), a futanari character is a woman (or feminine humanoid) who is often quite voluptuous/attractive and who possesses a penis (sometimes in addition to a vagina and sometimes without testicles). The perceived “discordance” between an attractive woman and her possession of a penis is what the people attracted to futanari (usually cishet men) find at once jarring and enticing. It’s the simultaneous perisexist and transmisogynistic fetishization of the idea of intersex people’s and trans women’s bodies and denial of the idea that our bodies could even exist outside of these fantasies, rendering them “safe for consumption.”

However, our bodies can, of course, exist outside of fiction and fantasy, which leads us to the discussion (which is deeply rooted in homomisic anxiety) of whether or not it’s “gay” for men to be attracted to “real life futanari” — Are you gay if the woman you find attractive turns out to have a penis? Enter the concept of “traps.” In anime, a trap is a boy who disguises himself as a girl, intentionally leads others to assume he’s a girl from his appearance, and often reveals himself to be (or is sometimes forcibly outed as) a boy only after other male characters (and, by proxy, the assumed straight male audience) have expressed interest in or attraction to him, shocking and embarrassing them. It is meant to be a source of comedy much of the time, but the narrative rarely questions the possibility that this character may identify as transfeminine and deserves to have their identity respected. They are always assumed to be cis boys who either simply enjoy looking like girls or have an ulterior motive for tricking people into thinking they are a girl.

When people started to realize that this was and is an extremely transmisogynistic trope (the idea that gay men will disguise themselves as women to “trick” straight men into sleeping with them is often applied to trans women and frequently seen as the only way a cis man could possibly be attracted to us), they decided to change the name of the game: Enter femboys. Femboys often look exactly like the standard trap — a very young, semi-androgynous, flat-chested, thin, white anime girl — though they’re frequently depicted even more salaciously because the artist has no reason to “conceal their masculine traits,” instead drawing attention to their genitals.

The default reasoning people use as to why this concept isn’t transmisogynistic is that femboys are gender-nonconforming boys who aren’t trying to trick anyone into believing that they’re girls. Unlike futanari, they aren’t meant to be women, and unlike traps, their appearances aren’t meant to be “deceptive.” However, this argument completely ignores that half of the issue with traps and futanari is that they are a fetish. In every instance, a great deal of emphasis is placed on the penis — it’s shocking and unexpected; it’s connotative of a cis boy in disguise; it’s accentuation goes hand-in-hand with male femininity, designating male femininity as inherently erotic. Trans women on this site have discussed this before, but the term “femboy” is literally used in porn to denote a fetish of transfeminine people. And it’s used right alongside other transmisogynistic slurs.

And these concepts — that trans women can be summed up as “women with penises,” that we’re an erotic curiosity to be simulated, that we’re inhuman, hermaphrodites, or “in-betweens,” that we’re men who want to trick other men into sleeping with us, etc. — are what get us reduced to our genitals, reduced to our assigned genders, dehumanized, and even killed. This is what you’re contributing to when you normalize the fetishization of “femboys,” the fetishization of the juxtaposition between a feminine presentation with a so-called “masculine” biology. If supporting trans women and fighting against transmisogyny matter more to you than just the appearance of being an ally, cut it out.

[Image ID: A banner of the pink trans woman flag with white text that reads, “I don’t want to see or be seen by transmisogynists” next to a green check mark /end ID]