#I do NOT make enough to quit yet

[deoidesign]

Happy EDS awareness month!

I'm a webcomic artist with EDS. be aware.

EDS affects many parts of my life. I have chronic fatigue, chronic pain, and I need to use a cane! I often find myself ruminating on themes of chronic illness in my work, whether or not I am intending to include them.

I already can't paint anymore, it hurts my hands too much... Anything that requires small details or precise motions will hurt me for days. I have a lot of grief around it. But working digitally allows me to still create!

I animate, I illustrate, I get to tell my stories. I have to go slow, take huge breaks (often against my will) and recover slowly. But, working in this space allows me the grace to do this.

So, I just wanted to share a bit of my experience with my audience, and say thank you for reading my work and supporting me! It means the world to me, and I hope maybe someone in my audience feels a little more seen through me sharing this. It causes me pain, but I love myself; and that includes my disability.

[ishikawayukis]

for @chanonara <3

[itsjaywalkers]

nada que perder: the sequel

part 1

jegulus microfic (that isn't actually a microfic) | 7.9k (lol) | very questionable age gap (we're so back babeyyy) (nothing happens in this one either but do not fret . jegulus grooming we're getting closer) | unrequited love (OR IS IT..) | james has a gun in this one.. and considering his behaviour he really shouldn't | dedicated to my beloved @yipyipyap <3 number 1 fan of this au <3

James is hiding under the stairs in the courtyard, hoping that Andromeda won’t go out on the balcony until he’s done with his fag. She isn’t against smoking, exactly—she indulges in it whenever she drinks or is especially stressed, so it’d be quite hypocritical on her part. But still, he isn’t fond of James doing it around the kids. Andromeda and Alphard fight constantly over it, because Alphard just can’t quit it—although, it’s not like he tries—and James has seen how vicious they both can become. He refuses to be included, even if that means stepping outside and dealing with Manchester’s cold wind whenever he craves some nicotine.

The plan was to only have one and then go back upstairs, because they’re supposed to have lunch all together at The Marauder, the Lupins’ pub, but Tonks had been protesting, saying they already had plans with some friends. Ted didn’t seem too fussed about it, but James had noticed the look in Andromeda’s eye and he hadn’t liked it. You can never be sure, because she gives in very easily when her kid is involved, but it had felt like an argument was brewing.

He had thought it better to not be there for it. Tonks always tries to get him on their side, because James has always been a sort of ‘cool uncle’ figure for them and Regulus, even though he’s actually not related to them. It wouldn’t end well for James. He’s never been good under pressure, and Andromeda can be downright terrifying when she wants to.

Besides, there’s also the fact that he, Alphard and Frank are in the middle of a case right now. Stupid Lucius isn’t happy about the mess they made last time, even if they solved it in the end, so they’ve been trying to be on their best behaviour. Which, unfortunately, means they’re at his beck and call, making an effort to never talk back—James had almost slipped up thrice just that morning—and following protocol to a tee.

Orion has refused to give them anything with substance since they were transferred. He has refused to even acknowledge them during meetings, or when they run into each other in the halls of the station. And listen, James is definitely not complaining; that asshole hates his guts, and it’s very much mutual. But that doesn’t change that Orion is the superintendent and they kind of need his approval on almost everything they do.

Considering he probably just brought them to his station as punishment and to make their lives fucking miserable, they have no other option but to prove themselves by their own merits and climb up the ladder. That way, Orion will have no choice but to acknowledge them.

The issue is that they’ve never been very orthodox in their methods. And it had been fine, before, when most of their fuck ups were easily fixable and the good outweighed the bad. Now they’re being forced to work under harsh conditions. Having to answer to people like Orion Black and Lucius Malfoy.

Although, and if James is being honest, Lucius has been suspiciously merciful. Or, well, as merciful as someone like him can be.

James hates it, even if it works in their favour. He doesn’t want to feel like he owes anything to that man.

Lucius had allowed them to leave a bit reluctantly, after Alphard had lied about having a family emergency. The possibility of him calling them back to the station is quite high, however, and Andromeda never reacts well when lunch is interrupted by work matters.

He’s about to finish the cigarette, still debating if having a second one would be the smartest course of action, when he hears it.

“I swear, dude, he’s so fucking fit!”

James blinks, straightening up slightly before he takes a little peek from where he’s hiding under the stairs. The courtyard is open for everyone in the building, but the few times he’s come out for a smoke he’s barely seen anyone. Most people seem to prefer lounging on their own balconies, and apart from children playing around sometimes and the occasional old woman, it tends to be empty.

He catches sight of a couple of teenagers; they seem to be around Regulus’ age, but considering the leather jackets, the ripped jeans and all the piercings, they’re definitely not the kind of company Alphard would like for his nephew.

The one who has apparently made the comment is tall and lanky, his eyes a dark green and a ring on his lower lip. He has light brown hair, a few strands dyed a hideous shade of green, and his clothes seem to be at least a size or two bigger than him. James can’t help but squint his eyes a bit at him. He had been no saint when he was younger, and it’s not like he is now, despite being fucking cop, but James doesn’t like his vibes.

The other bloke isn’t much better. He’s shorter but tall nonetheless, and bigger in size, even though James has a feeling the other one would be a lot more ruthless in a fight. He sports a buzzcut and his eyes are a light shade of blue, cold and lifeless. Both his right eyebrow and the left side of his nose are pierced, and if James didn’t know any better, he’d swear there’s a tattoo peeking from the collar of his shirt.

James can’t help but scoff under his breath. He shakes his head lightly, taking another drag of his cigarette and deciding that he’ll go back inside as soon as he’s done. But as he’s about to step from under the stairs, something in the kids’ conversation catches his attention.

“Mate, I know you’re down to shag everyone and everything, but c’mon, you gotta be making this shit up,” the one with the buzzcut is saying, eyes narrowed. “There’s no way a bloke can be that hot. There’s just no way.”

“Just wait ‘til you see him,” the lanky guy retorts, and for some reason, he tilts his head back, eyes jumping from one balcony to another. “He’s prettier than most of the girls I’ve seen.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing, mate—”

“Trust me on this, okay?”

“Crouch, I wouldn’t trust you even if you paid me—”

“You’ll understand when you see him. You’re gonna be eating your fucking words, Mulciber.”

“Whatever.” Mulciber (?) rolls his eyes. “Why are you so sure he’ll show up, huh?”

“We’re neighbours,” Crouch responds, all his attention on the balconies surrounding the courtyard. “He moved here recently, and with his whole family, I think. There’s so many of them. I’ve only seen him and his brother. And his mum. I think it’s his mum, anyway, but she looked very young.”

“Teen mum, probably,” Mulciber mutters with a shrug. “Wouldn’t surprise me if they moved to this shithole.”

Crouch snorts. “That’s what I thought too. Anyways, Regulus—that’s his name—likes to sit on the balcony to read. And I’ve caught him people watching before, so—”

James nearly stops listening after that name is so casually dropped. There’s a soft ringing in his ears, and his hands keep clenching and unclenching, clenching and unclenching, as if they can’t decide if they want to curl into fists or not.

He hadn’t cared much about what they’re discussing. Just kids being kids, right? Being inappropriate about another kid who they fancy, or want to shag, or whatever, just like kids their age usually do. Now, though? Oh, now it feels personal. And definitely not as innocent as James had originally thought.

“Regulus?” Mulciber repeats, a bit incredulous, before he lets out a laugh. One of James’ eyes twitches. “That’s a weird fucking name, man.”

“Well, he is a bit weird,” Crouch concedes with a tilt of his head.

“You talk like you know him.”

“I mean, not really, but we did talk a little when I helped him move some boxes the day he moved in. And Mulciber, dude, he was wearing the tiniest shorts I’ve ever seen. I thought I was gonna pop a boner right then and there—”

“You’re such a fucking perv,” Mulciber sniggers, elbowing Crouch on his side, who retaliates without missing a beat, a chuckle slipping past his lips.

James is gritting his teeth so hard his jaw is beginning to hurt, the rest of his cigarette practically consumed by now and crushed between his pursed lips.

“As if you aren’t worse than me,” Crouch retorts.

“I don’t know, mate, I don’t stalk any of my neighbours—”

“You’re gonna be changing your tune so fucking quickly when you actually see him—”

“Yeah, you keep saying that, but I’m not so sure. First of all, I don’t usually like blokes like that. And second of all, you don’t discriminate much, and you tend to have the weirdest taste ever—”

“Okay, shut up, he’s there,” Crouch hisses excitedly, hitting Mulciber on the side of his arm. “He’s actually there, fuck—”

“Wait, seriously?” Mulciber’s eyes widen and then he’s blinking quickly as he attempts to follow Crouch’s line of sight. He even slides closer to him, his gaze searching like mad until it finally settles. His mouth parts in a silent exhale. “Fucking hell, you were right.”

James is also following suit, head snapping up and eyes already zeroing on the balcony he knows to belong to Alphard’s flat. Like Crouch said, Regulus is there, and he seems to be looking for something inside of one of the couple of boxes lying on the floor. He has this little furrow between his eyebrows, the one that indicates he’s concentrating hard and that James has always found to be incredibly adorable, and his tongue is peeking from between his teeth.

The issue is that apart from an oversized shirt that probably belongs to either Alphard or his brother, and his underwear, Regulus doesn’t seem to be wearing anything else.

“I told you,” Crouch exclaims, gaze following every single one of Regulus’ movements. “I fucking told you.”

“You really did,” Mulciber breathes out, a bit in awe. He whistles softly. “Shit, look at those legs.”

“I know,” Crouch sighs dreamily. “And the waist, dude.”

“Yeah. He’s a bit feminine, though, don’t you think?”

“Just how you like ‘em.”

“Piss off. Thought you weren’t gonna share.”

“And I’m not.”

“Well, mate, you’ll have to because there’s no way I’m not tapping that at least once—”

A gust of wind lifts Regulus’ shirt up for a few seconds, and the boy seems too busy fighting off a shiver to bother pulling it back down. There’s a flash of the flat of his stomach, the paleness of his skin littered with moles, the dip of his hips. And worst of all, they all catch sight of his underwear, which is a light purple and adorned with a little bow, and looks suspiciously like—

“Panties,” Crouch murmurs, and when James focuses on him once again, he’s disgusted to find him almost drooling, eyes dark. “Holy shit, dude, he’s wearing panties.”

“What the fuck,” Mulciber says, shaking his head like he can barely believe it. James isn’t even sure he’s breathing. “What the fuck.”

“Fuck me, that’s so hot—”

“Mate, I’ve never been so thankful for the wind in my fucking life—”

“I know right—”

“What kind of bloke just walks around his house wearing panties? Not that I’m complaining, but—”

“Oh, dude, I bet he’s a slag, he’s basically asking for it—”

James spits his cigarette out and then he’s pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek, a disbelieving laugh escaping his mouth. His eyes look up to the sky for a moment or two before he begins to make his way towards the two boys, a dangerous grin curving his lips.

It takes them a few seconds to notice his presence, too busy ogling Regulus like the fucking creeps they are, but when they do, they both take an instinctive step back. Mulciber mostly seems to be taken aback, but Crouch is wary, a frown twisting his features.

“Hello there,” James greets them, hands slipping into the pockets of his denim jacket. “Having fun?”

“Hey, mate,” Mulciber responds a bit hesitantly. “We were just—”

“What the hell do you want?” Crouch asks him almost at the same time.

James’ smile widens, and he raises his hands in mock surrender. “So hostile,” he chastises with a disappointed shake of his head.

“You came out of fucking nowhere,” Crouch huffs out. “And you don’t look familiar. I don’t think I’ve seen you around—”

“I mean, you seem quite busy perving on that kid, so I’m not surprised you didn't notice me.”

Crouch stiffens immediately, a scowl taking over his expression, and Mulciber gulps, glancing at his friend briefly before he takes another step back.

“Didn’t know looking was a crime,” Crouch snarks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s not,” James concedes, nodding slowly, almost considering. “But it’s fucking disgusting.”

Crouch scoffs loudly, and somehow, James’ grin spreads further at the noise. It also becomes considerably sharper.

“What’s it to you?” Crouch questions, moving forward, attempting to get in James’ space, intimidate him. He has the height, that’s for sure, even though James is convinced he has an inch or two on the boy. But knowing what he knows, the kind of training he’s undergone, and the fact that he’s currently armed, James kind of wants to laugh. “Huh? It’s none of your fucking business, dude. And it’s not like we’re harming anyone—”

“Maybe.” James shrugs with one shoulder. “It’s really pissing me off, though. And you don’t want to piss me off, kiddo.”

“The fuck?” Crouch mutters with an incredulous laugh. He tilts his head back just to glance at his friend briefly, who’s shooting daggers at him, before he focuses on James once again. “Who do you think you are? I don’t care about your feelings, dude. Did we offend you? What, are you two much of a pussy to deal with a couple of dirty comments?”

James arches an eyebrow, his fingers twitching at his sides with the need to reach for his gun. He isn’t going to. There’s no need to escalate the situation, and the kid is right, it’s not like they had been doing anything illegal, no matter how furious James is about the whole thing. Besides, he isn’t the type to use a weapon against someone who’s unarmed. That’s simply not the kind of person, or cop, James wants to be.

But god, does he want to.

“Listen, mate, I’m not looking for trouble, okay?” James tells him, doing his goddamn best to keep himself calm. “But I won’t tolerate you talking about him like that—”

“No one’s asking you to,” Crouch snaps, jaw clenched. “You weren’t even part of the conversation.”

“That’s not—”

“And besides, if he didn’t want anyone looking, then perhaps he shouldn’t be prancing around wearing fucking panties.”

James grits his teeth together so harshly he swears he hears something crack. “He’s at home. He’s allowed to wear whatever the hell he wants. That’s not an invitation for guys like you to stare like creeps—”

“He’s out on the balcony,” Crouch retorts, smirking at James, so annoyingly self-assured. “Everyone can see him. And he doesn’t seem very concerned about it.”

“He shouldn’t have to. He deserves to be comfortable around his flat without having to consider desperate lonely assholes who resort to stalking a kid to try and find some wanking material.”

Crouch blinks at him a couple of times, like he’s a little surprised by the sudden display of aggressiveness. Sure, James’s irritation had been noticeable from the beginning, which is probably the main reason why Crouch got immediately defensive.

But even James can admit that his anger is beginning to get away from him, and that’s never a good sign. It happens often, more than he’d like to admit, but he swears he usually has more self-restraint. Especially when teenagers are involved.

Crouch is just being this confrontational because his friend is with him. James knows the type a little too well; he’s encountered them a dozen times, arrested a handful too, and then let them go with just a light slap on the wrist. He always goes a bit soft on them, because they’re just kids being stupid, and he used to be as bad, if not worse, than them.

James is aware of all this, just like he’s aware of the fact that he’s overreacting, and he should’ve just given them a warning and gone back inside. He never meant to get derailed like this. Honestly, he’s taking so long he’s a bit surprised Andromeda or Sirius haven’t come out to get him.

But his brain seems very against cooperating. James can feel whatever little rationality he possesses slipping through his fingers, and truth be told, he isn’t even actually trying to grab it.

“You’re way too bothered about this,” Crouch unnecessarily points out after a beat, looking James up and down, searching for something.

James exhales loudly through his nose. “Just because you clearly lack some common decency—”

“Nah, don’t try to give me that shit,” Crouch interrupts him, waving his hand around lazily. “Who’s Reg to you? Because you definitely know him.”

James has to bite his tongue to stop himself from barking at Crouch for daring to use a nickname for Regulus when they barely know each other. Crouch merely helped him with some boxes, and he clearly had ulterior motives, anyway. If James has anything to say in the matter—and he fucking does—that’s as far as their interactions will go.

“You his uncle or something?” Crouch goes on, unrelenting. “Step-dad? Family friend?”

He rolls his eyes, and is about to tell Crouch to fucking quit it, because James has no intentions of entertaining this, or satisfy his curiosity, when Crouch’s mouth twists into something more sinister, a dangerous glint shining in his gaze.

“Or,” Crouch continues, voice going low, “maybe you also wanna shag him.”

James’ breath stutters in his chest, eyes widening in pure, unfiltered shock, his mind refusing to even consider processing the sentence that just left Crouch’s mouth. Part of James just wants to laugh until tears are running down his face, while another feels ill enough he worries he might be about to be sick.

He doesn’t even get a chance to decide on a proper reaction before Crouch presses on, acting like he’s oh so clever but clearly not enough to know when to quit it.

The kid must lack a sense of preservation. There’s no other explanation.

“Is that it?” Crouch shakes his head, tutting at James. “Oh, that’s hilarious. And fucking vile. You gotta be, at least, in your mid-thirties. I bet you only caught us looking because you were doing the same. Is that what does it for you? Pretty, seventeen year old boys wearing panties? Not like I can blame you. He’s definitely a sight for sore eyes. I don’t even wanna imagine how many times you’ve gotten off to—”

Crouch never manages to finish his awful spiel, because James is pulling out his gun, seeing fucking red, almost shaking with the fury coursing through his veins. His blood is boiling while he pushes the barrel of the gun into Crouch’s forehead, taking sick satisfaction in the way the boy pales, mouth opening and closing but no sound coming out of it.

Mulciber lets out what can only be a squeal, and when James lays eyes on him, the boy takes a couple of steps back, readying himself to turn away and run. James only needs to arch an eyebrow at him and shift his wrist a little, enough for the gun to be pointed at him instead, to make him freeze.

He isn’t one to enjoy a power trip, not under these circumstances, when he's basically threatening a couple of teens, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t delight in the fear in their eyes. In watching all that bravado vanish from Crouch’s expression, from his pose.

“Not so brave now, are you?” James asks Crouch with a quirk of his mouth. The boy just stares at him in silence, lips pursed and shoulders stiff. “C’mon, up against the wall, both of you.”

They both hesitate; Mulciber as if he’s struggling to get his limbs to cooperate, and Crouch in a last attempt at defiance.

James lets out a mirthless chuckle, his head giving a disappointed shake.

“I don’t like repeating myself,” he hisses, tone hard and cold. “I said up against the wall. Now.”

It still takes them a couple more seconds, but the moment James clicks his tongue, his hold tightening around the gun, both boys finally move, rushing to one of the walls in the courtyard. James can tell they’ve been stopped by the police before, with the way they stand facing the wall and immediately lift their hands and put them flat against the cold stone.

They probably have never been this close to a gun, though, if Mulciber’s trembling and the tension hanging off Crouch’s soldiers is anything to go by.

“Listen, man we—we didn’t mean to—” Mulciber starts, tripping all over his words. He sounds like he’s on the verge of tears, and James wishes he could feel any pity for him.

“Did I say you could speak?” James cuts him off, leaning forward until he’s sure Mulciber can feel the heat of his body, the barrel of the gun grazing the back of his head. “Shut your fucking mouth before you make this worse for yourself.”

Mulciber nods fast and urgent, pressing his lips tight together and shutting his eyes briefly.

“This time, I’m gonna talk and you’re gonna listen,” James goes on, shifting his attention to Crouch, who’s openly glaring at the wall in front of him. When James moves the gun and presses it against the boy’s nape, Crouch inhales a bit shakily. “I don’t want to see you around Regulus ever again. In fact, don’t even look in his general direction. For all intents and purposes, he doesn’t exist to you, okay?”

“You’re a fucking freak,” Crouch spits out through gritted teeth. “What would Reg think if—”

“You won’t finish that sentence if you know what’s good for you, Crouch,” James cuts him off swiftly, his tone eerily calm. “And while we’re on the topic, quit it with the nickname, will ya? It’s not like you’re ever gonna be close enough with Regulus to be allowed to use it, anyway.”

“I was right, you really wanna fuck him,” Crouch retorts in a snarl, turning his head a little, just so his green eyes can bore into James’ brown ones. “How aren’t you ashamed of yourself? I wouldn’t be able to look at myself in the mirror if I were you. You’re the one who shouldn’t be around him—”

James digs the gun into Crouch’s skin to the point he’s convinced it must sting, but the boy doesn’t so much as flinch. Still, it has the desired effect, and Crouch closes his mouth, his words dying in his throat.

“I’m a very reasonable man, Crouch, but you’re testing my bloody limits,” James tells him, using the weapon to tilt the boy’s head forward, until his forehead is pressed uncomfortably into the wall. “Take Regulus’ name out of your goddamn mouth or I promise I’ll put a bullet in your skull.”

Mulciber lets out a choked off noise, but James doesn’t even bother glancing at him. His eyes are fixed on Crouch, who manages a small grin that looks more like a sneer than anything else.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Crouch mutters. James doesn’t understand how he can still talk back when he literally has a gun to his head, and he can’t help but admire the boy slightly. You gotta be very bold. Or very stupid.

James chuckles lowly, fingers caressing the weapon, playing with the idea of cocking the gun just so Crouch can hear it. Actually feel the threat. “Fucking try me.”

“Barty, please—” Mulciber whispers shakily, voice sounding suspiciously wet.

James is opening his mouth, so furious he isn’t sure of what will come out of it this time, when someone else interrupts him.

“What the fuck!? James?” Regulus yells from somewhere to his right, and James nearly drops the gun.

He immediately steps away from the boys, his head whipping around in search of the owner of the voice. James’ eyes find Regulus already making his way down the stairs of the courtyard, and something inside seems to settle at the sight. He can hear Crouch and Mulciber murmuring to each other before they run away, taking advantage of James’ distraction, and he isn’t even annoyed about it. He doesn’t care, really. Not anymore.

Regulus is still clad in just the oversized shirt and those bloody panties, but he isn’t flashing anyone this time, which James—and his sanity—deeply appreciates. Regulus had also been smart enough to put on a pair of slippers before going outside. It wouldn’t be the first time Regulus decided to step into the courtyard barefooted and ended up hurting himself.

James rushes to his side, but Regulus takes a step back as soon as he reaches him, the frown twisting his features becoming more pronounced.

“Put the gun away,” Regulus snaps before James can ask. He blinks at the boy, and then down at the weapon, which is still between his fingers. He listens immediately, sticking it inside the waistband of his jeans and then raising both hands, showing Regulus his naked palms.

The boy appears to relax slightly, but the furrow between his eyebrows doesn’t disappear.

“Regulus, it’s too cold for you to be out like this. C’mon, let’s go back inside, and—” James begins, dropping his arms and extending one towards Regulus, who curls a little into himself to avoid the touch.

James swears he feels a pang in his chest at the action.

“What the fuck was that about?” Regulus cuts in, sharp and confused and bordering on upset. James has to make an active effort not to wince.

“Reggie—”

“No, stop it. None of that. I want you to explain.”

James slips a hand under his glasses to rub at his eyes, a soft sight making it past his lips. “It was—nothing, Reg, you don’t have to—”

“Nothing?” Regulus repeats with a scoff, disbelieving. “Really? Because it didn’t look like nothing. You were threatening two guys with your bloody gun in the middle of the courtyard, for fuck’s sake—”

“It was just—just a tiny misunderstanding,” James attempts to excuse himself, hating how high-pitched he sounds. He’s usually decent at lying; mostly, because his job requires him to do it often. “We were talking, and then, then the conversation got a bit out of hand—”

Regulus snorts, but the noise lacks amusement. “Oh, it got out of hand alright. That was my neighbour you were about to shoot—”

“Please, you know I wouldn’t have,” James sighs, rolling his eyes, and he means it. In a perfect world, he'd be able to shoot assholes with no consequences. Unfortunately, this isn’t a perfect world, and James is a bit too aware of what lines can never be crossed.

“I’m not so sure,” Regulus murmurs, the beginning of a pout pulling at his lips. “What has Barty even done to you?”

James’ face immediately twists into a scowl, both at the reminder of his whole argument with Crouch and at the casual manner in which Regulus says his name. From what James knows, Regulus and Crouch have only interacted one time, and it wasn’t anything purposeful, or memorable. He doesn’t like the familiarity in Regulus’ voice, or the use of a first name. Crouch isn’t the kind of friend James wants for Regulus.

“Barty,” James repeats, chewing the word, its taste unbearably sour. “Didn’t know you were so close,” he mutters a bit darkly.

“We’re not,” Regulus retorts without missing a beat, squinting his eyes at James.

“Well, it bloody seems like it—”

“James,” Regulus snaps, making him pause. “Answer the question.”

He blinks down at the boy a couple of times, but then he ends up letting out a quiet huff, scratching at the back of his head as he briefly averts his eyes.

It’s a bit ridiculous, the power this kid has over James. He can’t help but be embarrassed, sometimes, because Regulus shouldn’t be allowed to speak to him like this, to demand answers like he’s owed something, like James is at his fucking beck and call.

He is, though. And James is painfully aware that he’s the main responsible for that spoiled attitude of Regulus. He encourages it, even. Because no matter how much he chastises himself for being so lenient, so soft when it comes to the other boy. James can’t stop. He’d give Regulus the world if he asked.

“Crouch was being a fucking creep, okay?” James tells him, still avoiding the boy’s gaze. “Apparently he’s been stalking you, trying to get a peek. He even brought his friend with him.”

“What?”

“Yeah. They only came to the courtyard because they were hoping to catch you out on the balcony at some point.”

There’s a moment of silence, and when James finally chances a glance at Regulus, he finds him wrinkling his nose.

“What a weirdo,” he mumbles, but he doesn’t appear to be half as upset as James believes he should be. “It’s not like there’s much to see, anyway—”

“You’re basically half-naked,” James deadpans, staring pointedly at Regulus’ pale legs before his eyes settle on the boy’s face once more. “Not to mention, you’re wearing—”

James closes his mouth so fast his teeth click hard enough to make him see stars momentarily. Regulus tilts his head at him, mostly confused but also slightly wary, and James’ stomach turns uncomfortably.

“I’m wearing what?” Regulus questions, before he takes a step closer to James.

“It’s—it doesn’t matter.” James shakes his head.

“It clearly does, if it got you all worked up like that, to the point you pulled out your fucking gun,” Regulus presses, taking another step. And then another. And another. James has to force himself to stay put, to stop his face from doing anything weird, to keep his voice level.

“It doesn’t matter,” James reiterates, so fucking relieved at how calm he sounds. “Just make sure you keep your distance from those two. It’s clear they’re only interested in you for one reason, and that’s not the kind of company you wanna keep.”

“And how would you know that?”

“I just do.”

“Less than a week ago you were encouraging me to meet more people my age and make friends—”

“Not them,” James hisses, a muscle spasming on the side of his jaw. “Not them, Regulus.”

The boy raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think that’s your choice.”

“I’m not claiming it is,” James sighs, unable to hide the exasperation in his voice. He never forgets the fact that Regulus is only seventeen, petty and stubborn and childish, but moments like these are quite the reminder. “I’m simply trying to look out for you, Reggie.”

“Of course,” Regulus scoffs, looking offended, and James can barely suppress the urge to throw his hands up in the air. What did he say now? “Because you always know better, right, James?”

“Um,” he begins, a little unsure, his palm rubbing at his stubble distractedly. “Kinda, yeah?”

Regulus’ mouth twitches until it curls into a snarl, and James curses himself inside his head, already itching to take it back, to fix it before Regulus can get properly angry at him.

“Not like there’s anything wrong with that!” he rushes to clarify, before Regulus even has the chance to open his mouth. “It’s just—well, natural, innit? It’s not because you’re stupid, Reggie, quite the opposite, really, and you know I trust you enough to know that you’ll make the right decisions—”

“But?” Regulus prompts, impatient, openly glaring at James. There’s nothing intimidating about the boy, and yet, James does feel the odd urge to cower under his gaze.

“But,” James goes on, doing his best to keep his tone soft and gentle, “I’m older than you,” he explains, not surprised in the slightest when Regulus rolls his eyes so hard his head tilts back. It doesn’t deter James. “I’m more experienced. That’s just life, love. Nothing wrong with that, and it doesn’t mean that you don’t know what you’re doing. You’re just a kid—”

“I’m not a fucking kid,” Regulus snaps, and it’s harsh, bordering on vicious, and James is so taken aback it takes him a handful of seconds to manage a reply.

“You are,” James argues, careful but firm, wrinkles all over his forehead. “You are a kid, Regulus.”

The boy makes a derisive sound. “Only when it suits you.”

James furrows his eyebrows slightly even though his lips make an aborted attempt at curving into a small smile. He tries to swallow, but a knot seems to have settled at the back of his throat, uncomfortable and impossible to get rid of.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks Regulus, and he goes for lighthearted, almost teasing, he really does. James doesn’t think he quite manages it, however. Mostly, because he’s a bit terrified of the response.

“You tell me,” Regulus murmurs, shrugging lazily. “Were you looking?”

“Looking? At what?”

“You said Barty and his friend were basically perving on me. Were you, too?”

A wave of nausea assaults James’ entire body, and for a moment, he’s sure he’s about to start gagging. He shakes his head furiously, and a few times at that, just to make sure to get his point across, despite Regulus’ expression never changing.

God, James is dying to put some distance between them, but he doesn’t—he worries about Regulus misinterpreting it—

“No,” he states slowly, his tone not leaving any room for argument. “No. Fuck, Reggie, you know I would never. You’re—shit, you’re a child and I’m not—I wouldn’t—I don’t see you like that—”

“You sure?” Regulus crosses his arms over his chest, unimpressed by James’ distress. “Because you seemed very bothered about my outfit choice.”

“Not like that,” James groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just—they were being creeps, and I don’t like people seeing you like—like this and making such inappropriate comments, but it’s not—it was never about me, or how I feel. I don’t care about what you wear—”

“You don’t care that I’m wearing these?” Regulus interrupts him softly, and a second later he’s lifting his shirt, showing off the goddamn panties and part of his belly in the process.

A wave of unbearable heat begins to climb up James’ neck, and he doesn’t allow himself more than a brief peek—mostly due to his lack of preparation—before one of his arms is shooting out, fingers wrapping tightly around Regulus’ wrist.

“Regulus,” James whisper-yells, glancing around in mild panic as he moves impossibly closer to the younger boy, attempting to cover his body with his own as best as he can. “What the actual fuck are you doing, anyone can see—”

“Come on, no one’s outside, it’s just us—” Regulus protests with a roll of his eyes, but when James digs his fingers in just the slightest bit harder and tugs insistently, he doesn’t resist, allowing his shirt to be pulled back down.

“Yeah, I bet you thought that too when you were on the balcony,” James grumbles, not letting go of the younger boy even with the panties finally out of sight. He knows better than to trust Regulus when he gets like this.

"You're being so dramatic," Regulus says with a tilt of his head, hands still playing with the hem of his shirt. "So what if they looked? It's not illegal."

"It should be," James grunts, his hold on Regulus' wrist never faltering.

"Okay, but it isn't," Regulus insists. "They didn't try anything, they didn't say anything to me, they didn't—"

"You weren't there, Reg." James shakes his head, trying to get rid of the whole encounter, vanish every single one of Crouch's disgusting words, all of his false accusations. "You don't—it was fucking awful. Made me sick to my fucking stomach."

"Jamie," Regulus mutters softly, delicately, like he's speaking to a spooked animal. James should hate it, should shut it down immediately, because he's the one that's supposed to do the comforting. Always the protector, looking after his Reggie. "It's like you say. They're just kids. Kids being kids."

"Don't excuse them—"

"I'm not! I'm not. You just seem very upset, and I don't like that. I'm fine, yeah? I don't care about what they said. It doesn't matter—"

"But it does!" James explodes, raising his voice and hating himself a little for it. He runs his free hand through his hair, messing it all up, pulling at the roots. "It fucking does. No one should fucking dare to even think that kind of shit about you. You're—you're so good, Reggie, so very lovely, and I don't—I refuse to let you go through that. I'm not gonna let anyone make you feel like you're some—some kind of object—"

"James—"

"You're too young, you don't get it just yet, but it's not—I won't fucking stand for it, Reggie. It may be innocent now, or harmless, but it won't always be. And you deserve only the very best, okay? I'll make sure those assholes stay far, far away from you even if it's the last thing I do."

Regulus' eyes widen as he stares up at James, so bright they look like liquid silver.

"Is that why you seemed so angry?" Regulus questions, sounding a bit out of breath for some reason. "Why you pulled out your gun? For me?"

"Not my proudest moment," James sighs. He'd probably do it again, but that doesn't mean he isn't aware it's wrong. James doesn't doubt that Lucius would take his gun away if he ever found out. "But yes, of course it was for you. I didn't mean to lose my cool like that, I just wanted to—to scare them off so they'd leave you alone, but they—" James pauses to swallow, his mouth dry and his tongue tasting something bitter. "Crouch is fucking vile, Reggie. Please, stay away from him."

"Okay," Regulus agrees with astounding ease. James is convinced he's heard wrong at first, because after all the fight he's put up, he can't quite believe he's suddenly giving in. "You really did it for me?"

James raises both eyebrows. "Yes, Reg. There's no one else I'd risk my badge for."

Regulus giggles, giddy and slightly pink in the face, and James is helpless to the grin that takes over his expression. He still hasn't let go of Regulus' wrist, but his hold loosens considerably, his thumb caressing the skin slowly.

"Would you have shoot them, too?" the boy wonders, batting his lashes. "If they hadn't stopped?"

Yes.

The response comes unbridled, nearly tumbling out of James' mouth against his will. It feels quite overwhelming, the knowledge that he'd be willing to go that far for Regulus, turn away from his morals and everything he believes in without a second of hesitation.

It's a bit of a struggle, keeping it from slipping past his lips and swallowing it back down before it gets the chance to cause some damage.

"Obviously not," he lies with a teasing roll of his eyes. "That'd be fucking insane."

Regulus pouts at that answer, and James can only chuckle fondly, giving his wrist a light squeeze before he finally lets go.

"But I'll always be there to protect you, Reggie," he goes on with a smile, reaching out to twirl one of the boy's curls between his fingers. "I won't let anything bad happen to you."

"I know," Regulus sighs, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"Good. Now let's get you back inside, yeah? It's freezing, and you're gonna catch a cold at this rate, dressed like that."

"Can we wait five more minutes? Andy and uncle Alphard were still arguing when I went to look for you."

James looks up at the sky and groans dramatically, dragging a tiny laugh out of Regulus. He ends up nodding a second later, because he really doesn't want to get involved in whatever it is that's going on inside that flat. He just wants to get some lunch. After that altercation with Crouch and Mulciber, and then Regulus' interruption, James is fucking starving. Pub food will surely fix this mess of a morning. Especially if said pub food is made by Hope Lupin.

"Yeah, sure, I'd rather avoid it, if possible," James mutters. As soon as the sentence is out of his mouth, a shiver rattles Regulus' entire frame, both his hands coming up to rub distractedly as his upper arms. James' expression twists in a frown. "Reggie, you can't—wait, lemme just—"

He shrugs his denim jacket off and rushes to wrap it around Regulus' shoulders, who flinches in surprise before he relaxes once again. It seems to take him a second, but then he's slipping his arms through the sleeves, the garment way too big on him. Regulus is basically swimming in it, and James has to swallow down a laugh while he adjusts the jacket as best as he can.

"But what about you?" Regulus questions, concern seeping into his words as he watches James fuss over him.

James shakes his head with half a smile, tugging the jacket as low as it'll go. He doesn't button it up, but he makes sure to close it slightly, so Regulus is as covered as possible.

"I'm fine," James reassures him, even with goosebumps breaking all over his now exposed arms. "You're the one who's barely wearing anything. Besides, if you get ill your uncle will kill me."

"Why would he?" Regulus grumbles, burrowing into the jacket. He gives the collar a little sniff, and James is sure he intended to be discreet, but he notices it anyway. It makes his smile widen slightly. "It'd be my fault."

"Maybe. But I can't just stand by and watch. You're shaking, love—"

"Only a little!"

"Please," James snorts, hands grazing the hem of the jacket before they slide lower, fingers settling on the boy's thighs, feeling the goosebumps all over Regulus' skin. "If you're gonna lie, at least do it well. I know you're freezing cold, Reggie, I can feel it."

A small, high-pitched noise escapes Regulus' lips, and his face seems to become a bit redder. James assumes the cold must be really getting to him, so with an amused huff, he begins to stroke up and down Regulus' thighs, hoping to help the boy warm up slightly.

Regulus makes another sound, and then he's pressing even closer to James, clutching at his chest and resting his forehead against James' sternum. Another shiver wracks his small body, and James grips at his thighs, fondling them a bit more harshly. He shushes Regulus when the boy whimpers softly, and James lowers his head enough to drop a kiss on top of his curls.

"Don't worry, love, we'll be back inside soon," James reassures him quietly, hands stroking and squeezing without pause. His fingers slip under the jacket and under the shirt, trying to reach as much skin as possible. "Honestly, only you'd think that coming outside in just a top and your underwear is a good idea. I hope you've learnt your lesson."

"You sound like—like uncle Alphard," Regulus retorts, stuttering all over his words and filling James with fondness. "He's always scolding me about my outfit choices."

"I'm inclined to agree with him this time."

"Well, don't. You're supposed to—to be on my side. Always, Jamie."

James exhales loudly through his nose, grinning, helplessly endeared.

"You make it a bit difficult sometimes, love," he says to the top of Regulus' head. "I mean, look at you, you can't stop shivering—"

"It's not because of the cold," Regulus murmurs. It comes out too low and slightly muffled; James doubts he would've heard it if it weren't for how close they're standing.

"No?" James asks, a teasing edge to his voice.

Regulus shakes his head a couple of times, and then he's looking up, his eyes a little glazed as he glances at James. He's quite red, and his breathing appears to be slightly uneven, panting through parted lips.

"You're—you're touching me," Regulus explains, and there's something about how he says it that makes James tense up immediately, stomach twisting. There's nothing wrong with the word in itself, but the way Regulus pronounces it, so full of implications… Well, it sounds dirty. "It feels very nice, Jamie."

"So? I touch you all the time," James points out, his tone carefully neutral. He hasn't pulled away just yet, but his hands have stopped all movement.

"Not like this," Regulus whispers, and James swallows with some difficulty.

"Regulus—" he starts, a little strained.

"Is it because of the panties? You like 'em that much?"

James jumps away from him as if burned, and without giving the boy a single second to react, he begins to make his way towards the stairs, desperate to put some distance between them, to find some witnesses, anything to stop whatever it is that's wrong with his fucking brain.

He thinks he hears Regulus calling after him, but James barely acknowledges it, curling into himself as he climbs the steps two at a time.

"Sorry, Reg, this wind is killing me, I can't do it, I'm going back inside!" he announces without even bothering to turn around and look at the boy, his voice close to breaking at the end. "Besides, if we don't leave soon, the pub is gonna be rammed!"

James can't tell if Regulus says anything in response, too busy trying not to trip in his haste to return to the flat. His face feels like it's on fucking fire, and his hands won't stop trembling where they're resting at his sides.

When he finally opens the door and a screaming match between Alphard, Andromeda and Sirius welcomes him, James can only let out a relieved sigh. He isn't even annoyed when Sirius notices him and decides to include him in whatever stupid fight they're in the middle of.

By the time Regulus slips inside, eerily silent, the argument is over, and everyone is getting ready to go to lunch. Andromeda takes one look at him and rushes him to get dressed, threatening to leave without him if he isn't ready in the next fifteen minutes.

James can feel Regulus' eyes on him the whole time. While the boy walks towards his room to get ready, on their way to the pub, during the meal, when Alphard stands up to take a call from, presumably, Lucius. Even while James sends a quick text to Frank, telling him to meet them at the station, and Sirius leans closer to his brother to make a very inappropriate comment about Remus, who's pouring a pint behind the bar.

He doesn't look back a single time.

[fxnker]

let's share

[elusiiev]

OMORITOBER DAY 14: LIBRARY

i like to imagine spirit mari tossing down her favorite memories for omori to read while peeking around to see omori's reaction :3

i was thinkin of drawing her too, but honestly i wasnt very sure what pose to do and i was a bit tired !!

thanks to @/ntrogensolar for the omoritober prompt list!

extra rant in the tags ab why this isnt a full piece!

[homestuckreplay]

some times video games, DOES CAUSE violence: Who Is Dave Strider?

Character Deep Dive 3 - 7/7/2009

TG: im wearing them ironically TG: because theyre awesome TG: the fact that theyre ironic makes them awesome TG: and vice versa TG: are you taking notes on how to be cool?? jesus get a fucking pen (p.110)

With an ‘OH PSYCHE’ and a dramatic sword slash into the digital world, Dave Strider made his dramatic entrance into Homestuck on June 29, 2009. We’ve previously seen a few of his instant messenger chats with John, which establish him as a disaffected and irony-poisoned guy who values the idea of being ‘cool’ and dismisses his friend’s earnest interests. Actually seeing Dave as a point of view character gives a very different impression - he's emotionally dependent on the people around him, doesn't have a strong sense of self, and is scared to express an earnest thought. And he's not even the tiniest bit cool.

Below the cut is an analysis of what we learn about Dave in the first 350 pages of Homestuck, through the framework of his stated interests on p.315. It's about 4.4k words because much like Dave, I can’t shut up.

1 - You have a penchant for spinning out UNBELIEVABLY ILL JAMS with your TURNTABLES AND MIXING GEAR.

Dave’s computer (p.323) has two desktop files for his jams - ‘ILL BEATS’ and ‘DOPE RHYMES. SO DOPE’ which I can only assume are two separate musical genres that Dave understands the nuance of, even while his listeners do not. However, despite Homestuck regularly featuring music as part of the story, we don’t hear any of Dave’s sick mixtapes. Instead, we make them for him (p.338) - meaning Dave’s first stated interest is one that the audience has control over. This is like if on page 4, each reader got to enter a list of movies for John to love, and those movies were substituted into the later comic, giving every reader a unique experience of John’s taste. 

John is established as someone who has a very specific taste, staying firm while other characters and the narration criticize him. Dave is established as easily influenced by other people’s creative impulses and opinions on art. Whether the reader seriously creates something they enjoy, or layers all 16 or 20 beats at once in an unlistenable mess, the next page still reads ‘Those beats were so fresh they belong in the produce aisle’ (p.339). Dave thinking whatever the reader does is cool is similar to him thinking whatever his bro does is cool, which he mentions throughout his pesterlogs and narration in reference to diverse topics like the sylladex, video games, and puppets. 

He’s also easily influenced by John, perhaps even gullible, as John’s talk of a monster pissing in apple juice at the factory is enough to get inside Dave’s head and stop him from drinking the bottle he was excited about, and Dave switches instantly from parroting the GameBro review of Sburb to believing that Sburb can save Rose’s life, based only on what John says. A big question I’m interested in with Dave is what he actually likes, and where to draw the line between his own interests and opinions, and those of other people that he copies without exploring for himself.

Dave being a technology guy is the first thing we learn about him because of his username, turntechGodhead. We see Dave protective of his turntables, not wanting to spill anything on them (p.315) and we see him refer to his technology by the model name, suggesting that the specifics of the tech are important to him (p.337). Three of Dave’s six stated interests relate to music - unbelievably ill jams, bands no-one’s heard of, and phat rhymes. As music was notably absent from John and Rose’s interests, despite them being skilled instrumentalists, this over-focus on music is really notable. Dave’s musical interests explore the full spectrum of creating vs appreciating music, with Dave creating remixes as the exact middle point, a form of creation that is based on incorporating other artists’ work that Dave enjoys. This is kind of perfect for him as someone whose personality might just be a remix of his brother’s. 

We get no sense of Dave being religious, so the ‘godhead’ in his name apparently refers to how Dave presents himself and his creations. He talks as though his opinions are objectively correct, even in narration, and describes himself as being ‘worshipped’, with people prostrating themselves before him and kissing his shoes. However, music itself can be a religious experience. In Christianity, for example, songs of praise are a form of worship and a way to bring believers closer to God, and all major world religions have their own musical traditions. In secular culture, for many people, music intensifies emotions, creates community, and can create feelings of reverence and catharsis similar to those experienced in religious worship (see this article and this deviation for examples). I can easily imagine Dave feeling the same way, and music being his truest expression of emotion and therefore the thing that hits him most deeply and defines his life.

2 - You like to rave about BANDS NO ONE'S EVER HEARD OF BUT YOU.

We are taking this one on faith, because so far, we haven't seen Dave raving about any bands. He does own an extensive and colorful record collection which he keeps beneath his turntables, but he hasn't looked at any, or given the reader a chance to rifle through them the way we did with John's game collection. This interest parallels Rose's 'RATHER OBSCURE LITERATURE', and similarly, I don't think Dave's bands are genuinely underground - they're probably well regarded indie bands who aren't in the pop charts. If I’m headcanoning Dave’s favorite bands it’s Dirty Projectors, Porcupine Tree, The Streets, Animal Collective, Modest Mouse and LCD Soundsystem. The only real world media we know for sure Dave likes is Starsky & Hutch (2004), and Ben Stiller as an actor. Some of Ben Stiller’s work is definitely ironic comedy, but it’s still fairly mainstream.

It's also possible that Dave already got his only three friends to listen to his obscure bands, and now they have heard of them, meaning Dave can no longer act smug and superior about being the only one that knows them. This is a tragic and self defeating prophecy, and there's no direct textual evidence for it, but I came up with the idea while thinking about the Midnight Crew comic. Dave has a poster and bedspread of this comic but '[hasn't] looked at it in a while' (p.327), so he's less of a fan than he used to be. John also reads Midnight Crew and its predecessor (p.112), so I wonder if Dave got John into mspaintadventures and it then lost its magic of being something cool to Dave. There is a real loneliness in not being able to share your interests with somebody for fear that it will ruin them somehow, or that other people won't understand them the same way - Dave also mentions that it's hard to explain the 'subtleties' of his ironic appreciation (p.318). John likes everything so earnestly in a way that seems uncomfortable for Dave.

3 - You collect WEIRD DEAD THINGS PRESERVED IN VARIOUS WAYS.

Much like the record collection, we can see evidence of Dave's weird dead things in his room, but it's not an interest he's explored in the comic. Page 337 gives us a good view of his specimens, which appear to include an embryo in a jar of liquid, an assortment of scorpions, centipedes and beetles encased in solid material, a fish encased in a different solid, and various rocks, fossils and bones just chilling on the shelf. We don't learn whether Dave collects and preserves the specimens himself or buys them like this, but I found guides online for preserving specimens as a hobby using commercially available supplies, and those sunglasses are kind of like safety goggles (or at least better than nothing). Either way, this interest sticks out - all the others are very typical for a selfconsciously cool indie guy, but even if it's ironic, this is some confirmed nerd shit.

I do think Weird Science will become important to Homestuck. John's interested in ectoBiology and paranormal lore, Rose lives next door to a mysterious laboratory and has the ethos of a mad scientist, and now Dave displays biological specimens on a shelf. I'm always thinking about how the comic is setting itself up to explore some fascinating dichotomies (spectrums?) like physical vs digital and technology vs religion, and I'm now adding art vs science to that list.

I also think we can interpret this interest non-literally, and think about what other things Dave might like to preserve. Vinyl was thought of as a dead medium for decades, until a recent indie resurgence that Dave is helping with. Photography, Dave's next interest, is a way of preserving a moment in time that can't be relived. And one popular argument for why the Internet is good is that while physical items like a paper book will degrade over time, digital data like a website can be preserved forever. Maybe part of the reason Dave feels a lot of responsibility towards his websites is because he knows that people could still be reading them decades or even centuries from now, when he himself is a weird dead thing. In a story where Sburb represents the near-limitless potential for creation and destruction, it is very interesting that Dave, the biggest Sburb hater, is associated with preservation.

4 - You are an AMATEUR PHOTOGRAPHER and operate your own MAKESHIFT DARKROOM.

Again, Dave hasn't discussed his photography, but his pictures are strung up around his room. This is fascinating because it implies that the makeshift darkroom is also Dave's actual room, not the bathroom or a spare room or closet. This might suggest that like John, Dave doesn't have much control over the rest of the house. His brother has puppets strung up in the hallway and bathroom, but Dave either isn't allowed to hang his photos there, or he's not comfortable hanging them where the rest of his family might see. It also suggests that Dave simply draws the blinds, switches off the lights and screens, and exists in his room in darkness, navigating by touch and memory alone. This might tie into how half his hobbies are related to sound, not sight - and Dave wearing sunglasses indoors could be a way of practicing finding his way around with reduced sight, or an effect of regularly doing so, if Dave spends enough time in darkness that he now struggles with bright lights.

Three of Dave's four visible photos are selfies of him in different poses, despite a host of interesting things to photograph in his room. I'm thinking of a line from House of Leaves where a character, famous for her smile, is described as practicing it every night in front of the mirror when she was fourteen. Dave is the same to me. He's regularly associated with muting and masking his emotions - for example, saying 'Nah.' to retrieving his arms from cinderblocks (p.313), where John and Rose had far stronger emotional reactions to similar commands (p.5, p.218). Dave photographing himself in the perfect expression or pose surgically designed to look effortless, then studying those photographs and iterating from there, is so easy to imagine.

Conversely, for someone who is so dedicated to concealing emotion to the point of wearing sunglasses and hiding his eyes even while alone, making art (like photography and music) is probably the only way Dave knows how to process his feelings. Sadly we are in a post-cassette tape world, but Dave is such a 'make a mixtape for his crush' type of guy that I can imagine him finding a bunch of limewire rips, compressing them into a zip file and emailing them to John, who replies like 'I don't know how to open this'.

5 - You maintain a number of IRONICALLY HUMOROUS BLOGS, WEBSITES, AND SOCIAL NETWORKING PROFILES.

We are treated to two of Dave's ironically humorous websites - sweet bro’s hella blog, a blogspot page, and SWEET BRO AND HELLA JEFF, a dot com that really exists (and redirects to the SBAHJ comic on mspaintadventures). This explains everything. A blogspot is one thing but owning a dot com makes you a Guy Who Owns Web Domains, which feels extremely cool despite being ultimately meaningless. These sites also establish how much Dave has to say - we see this in pesterlogs too, where Dave will message John every few minutes asking for updates on the Sburb beta (p. 26, 35, 110) or send twenty messages in a row even after John has said he’s leaving the chat (p.204). 

On sweet bro’s hella blog (p.325), Dave’s just yelling into the void with no real goal in mind, just an idea he thought would be funny. I do think his March review is pretty funny, but I also think Dave likes GameBro for real. He respects their opinions - ‘did you see how it got slammed in game bro????’ (p.26) - and changes the subject when John criticizes it. He’s also adopted the lexicon, as the GameBro review of Sburb (p.42) is written similarly to how Dave types. But mostly I’m interested in Dave’s blog’s followers. He has at least twelve, and maybe more. The Ghostbusters icon is almost certainly John, but none of the icons jump out as Rose or GG. They could be real people - or they could be more of Dave’s accounts, with him creating an extensive social network of characters who interact with each other’s posts ‘ironically’. If Dave is someone who craves social interaction, this could be a way he copes with loneliness.

In SWEET BRO AND HELLA JEFF (p.326), Dave is creating something. He’s a webcomic artist! He might even have been inspired by the Midnight Crew. He’s only made four comics so far, which I’ll call ‘stairs’, ‘HE HE HE’, ‘jelly’, and ‘BARACK’. These all feature two characters, who are presumably Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff, but it’s not defined which is which, so I’ll call them Red and Blue. Red’s mom makes an appearance in HE HE HE, and there’s a squirrel in BARACK, but these are side characters. The dynamic seems to be Red getting into situations, and Blue expositing/commentating on them. They are both gamers, might also be stoners, and Blue is possibly transmasc. BARACK suggests that the two characters might represent the American political parties, which makes sense, because the recent 2008 election is probably the first political moment Dave’s been old enough to have real knowledge and opinions on. 

SBAHJ is clearly intended to be near impossible to parse, filled with nonsensical dialog and plot points and horrific jpeg compression, so it’s extremely hard to analyze right now. I think this might be on purpose, and that part of Dave’s layers of irony are him not wanting people to learn too much about him through his art. The line between irony and sincerity is something really fascinating to me, because these concepts are so embedded into internet culture. Dave tells himself he’s making something that’s bad on purpose, and that he’s doing it ironically. But he actually believes that what he’s making is good. He thinks it’s good because of the irony, but he’s still making art that he’s proud of, he’s still showing vulnerability by posting it on the internet and getting people’s honest reactions, no matter how many layers he tries to cloak that in. 

Dave does think of his blog as a responsibility - ‘ive got a lot of shit on my plate, i am sort of a big deal ok?’ (p.333) - and I think that’s a really common feeling. Having any kind of following, even if it’s just John, his bro, and a couple of strangers on the internet, can easily turn into feeling like there’s an obligation to create content for them. If Dave’s cool bro has promoted Dave’s work, that becomes even more pressure, since those are people Dave probably wants to impress. So when he says he doesn’t have time to read Midnight Crew (p.332) or play Sburb with Rose (p.333), I don’t think he’s lying, or making himself out to be busier than he is.

Much like Dave’s sick beats (p.338), SBAHJ is the first time a Homestuck character has created something that also exists in our world. I think it’s very interesting that John, Rose and Dave all have meta roles to play in the story, but they are all different flavors of meta. John’s meta role is explicitly that of a character, but one that the reader, player, and narrator are all able to control at times through the various layers of the narrative (p.90, p.253, etc). Rose’s meta role is that of a player, able to control John’s environment in godlike ways and be immune to the commands of the Vagabond, another player (p.139, p.277, etc). Now, Dave’s meta role is that of the narrator, as he infodumps and exposits even when nobody is around, posts commentary, and creates an entirely separate narrative on his own website.

6 - And if the inspiration strikes, you won't hesitate to drop some PHAT RHYMES on a mofo and REPRESENT.

The phatness of rhymes can’t be quantified scientifically, but I did my best. I tried reading both of Dave’s raps aloud, doing my best to put them to a beat. The first four lines (p.287) went well, and it all fell apart from there. 

This didn’t feel like a fair test as I’d never usually read rap lyrics before listening to the song - so I read the lyrics to Lil Wayne’s 2008 song A Milli, and Kendrick Lamar’s 2009 remix of the same song, which I hadn’t listened to before. These were both much easier to read in rhythm, and when I listened to the songs afterwards, they were decently close to what I’d imagined. To further control the variables, I read Andrew Hussie’s 2005 comic And It Don’t Stop, which centers around rap battles. Here, too, the rhymes and rhythms are crisp - so this is a Dave issue, and not an author issue.

Dave is trying to use the word ‘McConaughey’ in a rap. He is probably inspired by far more experienced rappers who might be able to pull that off, but Dave definitely can’t. I think he’s skipping steps and trying to make something complex before he has the basics nailed down. His raps also highlight how self centered he is, much like his infinite recursion of ironic websites. John reveals that his life was in danger, and Dave’s instant reaction is: ‘how can I make this about my art?’ 

However, I’m concerned about the cultural implications of Dave’s raps. We don’t know Dave’s race and he definitely could be black, but there’s no specific indication of that. He’s represented in #ffffff, which is closer to a white skin tone than any other - many black and white comics use shading to denote a dark skinned character. Due to the nature of white privilege, white is culturally seen as the ‘default’ or ‘unraced’ option. In books, race or skin tone will be described for characters of color but not mentioned for white characters, and both Lego and The Simpsons use yellow skin for the majority of their characters as an ostensibly universal option, but still depict characters of color with brown skin tones, implying that the default yellow actually means white. 

Written by a white author, it’s likely that Homestuck has the same problem - and two factors make this even more concerning. The first is And It Don’t Stop, which was co-created by Black artist Tauhid Bondia, but was entirely written by white artist Andrew Hussie. The comic includes multiple instances of the n-word as well as a couple other race related jokes. The second is Dave’s raps themselves, one of which is an irreverent analysis of black presidents in movies at the start of the Obama era. Real life black people have incredibly varied opinions on race and politics, but Dave is a fictional character, and even if he is intended to be textually black, it’s uncomfortable for a white author to write him rapping about living in a post-racism world. 

I think it’s likely that the author - and by extension, Dave himself - are justifying their racism by claiming that it’s ironic and doesn’t represent their actual beliefs, failing to see that the effects of their words are exactly the same. I can give Dave the benefit of the doubt because he is 13 years old and doesn’t exist, but I think the very real 29 year old creator of this work should do better.

7 - The Absence of Gaming

John and Rose shared one common interest, which was video games. We know that Dave reads GameBro, owns the Sburb beta, and has played Problem Sleuth and And It Don’t Stop with John (or at least enjoys the art of these games). And yet, he doesn’t cite gaming as an interest, which I've been puzzling and theorizing over in my mind.

Dave likes gaming unironically and loves playing games with John. He reads GameBro to find out what the Correct Contrarian Takes are that’ll be socially acceptable in Cool Guy Circles. He does this to keep up with his bro, who he has a ‘campaign of one-upmanship’ with (p.314) not dissimilar from the Prankster’s Gambit between John and his dad, and who plays a very important role in his life. The magazine is called GameBro, Dave’s comic features Sweet Bro, and Dave effusively compliments his brother in both pesterlogs and narration, such as ‘my bro taught me a few tricks he basically knows everything and is awesome’ (p.35). 

Dave tells John to brush up on his data structures and allocate his strife specibus, but never actually demonstrates his own knowledge of data structures, and doesn’t know the specific procedure for allocating the specibus (p.35). Dave’s not an expert himself, he’s just parroting the sylladex tricks his bro taught to him. Dave never states a reason for his disinterest in Sburb beyond ‘it sounds so HELLS of boring’ (p.110), and we know that Dave’s bro also doesn’t plan on playing Sburb (p.314). Dave also implies that he’s a little bit scared of his brother with the mildly threatening ‘hes not gonna be happy about [my taking his Sburb discs]’ (p.294).

It’s highly possible that Dave’s love of irony also comes directly from imitating his bro, who is probably a 16 year old high schooler involved in a weird theater kid subculture, based on typical sibling age gaps and the puppets strung around the house. To Dave at 13, of course an older, alternative teen is going to be the absolute height of cool, even while it all looks silly to an outsider. I think that John’s stack modus is actually a very standard option for a sylladex, and that Dave and his bro are the weird ones insisting that hash map is usable - I can imagine them being like ‘why is everyone always using “plates” and “bowls”? I eat all of my meals out of aluminum foil folded into the right shapes.’ 

Dave’s post-ironic hipsterism isn’t exclusive to men, of course, but it is a very specific type of masculinity - ironic sexism is a known phenomenon. Dave, who confines his emotions to an expressionless nod, solves the minor problem of someone getting his name wrong by making a violent sword attack, and makes gay jokes but gets defensive the second someone suggests that he might be gay, is definitely falling into some toxic masculinity. 

Gender roles (both male and female) are unachievable ideals for even the most cisgender and perisex of people, but I think there’s a reading of Dave as a transgender man who came out when he was young and passes well, but always has to put in more work than the other men around him, because he has to work against biology and other people’s perception of his gender. Whether Dave is trans or cis, I think his ninja sword could be a metaphor for masculinity - it’s allocated to his strife specibus, but his actual strife portfolio is empty, and the sword is displayed on the wall. To me this says that Dave is a man, but he’s more concerned with the outward performance of masculinity than actually buying into those gender roles.

Final Thoughts

Just like Rose, Dave has meticulously crafted the personality he wants to have, but there are plenty of cracks in his facade. All three of our main characters so far are easy to understand and easy to relate to - right from their early appearances, we can see the clear disconnects between characters’ words, thoughts and actions, and effortlessly synthesize them into a coherent character. The author is simply gifted at characterization. The patterns of character introductions are very cool too, making readers both want and expect to see certain things, such as the characters allocating their strife specibus or playing a haunting tune (personally I’m most excited to explore Rose and Dave’s houses further like we have John’s). Establishing these patterns means I have a better sense of where the story is, and don’t have as many questions, though of course some mysteries remain, such as:

Just what is Dave’s cool brother’s deal, really? 

Will Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff (the characters) eventually cross the boundary into the Homestuck universe? Will we ever find out which one is which? 

Are the characters’ interests intended to be things they’re bad at (when they’re skills)? Could this be why music isn’t featured in John and Rose’s lists of interests, but is in Dave’s? Could this mean that Dave kicks ass at video games? 

To what extent are the images in Homestuck literal and to what extent are they representational? Or, in other words, do Dave’s sunglasses really gleam when we get his name right?

Dave’s message to John about apple juice (p.324) is almost identically worded to the preceding narration (p.320). Is the narration a perfect representation of character thoughts for everyone all the time, or is this only true for Dave because he’s positioned closer to the narrator?

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Oh we are so BACK

When I tell you I saw this and died. HELLO?????

I keep hiding my face lahshjsdhjgfsaf HE HAS NO RIGHT. NO RIGHT AT ALL BEING THAT SEXILY INTENSE AAAAAAAAAAA

Anyway, I should probably try to make some attempt at describing the event since. If I don't I'll just be barking/crying/hiding my face for the next twelve hours.

Basically--and I'm not sure this is going to be across the board, but it held true for Napoleon and Sebastian at least--each suitor has a birthday event this year instead of a separate story. Comte's won't be released until tomorrow, but they have posted a preview.

From what I gather, he talks a little bit about himself and reveals parts of his past that haven't come to light in the game yet. There wasn't really enough to convey a coherent narrative beyond attending a party, but the line displayed here does get across the larger theme:

Comte: (I don't need momentary pleasure or ephemeral affection any longer. Now that I know love, there's nothing but you.)

He talks about how the aristocracy have thrown parties and extravagant celebrations for his birthday for most of his life. But none of it has ever really made him happy, largely because he knows that they are attempts to strengthen and broadcast power relations within high society. While I don't think he means it's entirely devoid of well wishes, I do think he sees it as a nexus of influence--and thus, by nature, impersonal. And honestly, I don't think he's wrong about that; the higher the echelon in social standing, the more it requires performance to maintain the position.

That being said, there is a fascinating flashback where he remembers a pureblood telling him about how falling in love with a human is an experience of another caliber entirely. My understanding is that Comte was still a fairly young vampire at the time, so he didn't really understand what the person was getting at. It seems like the other pureblood was trying to convey the difference in feeling, perhaps the fact that humans are more grounded in accordance with how they live--the reality and necessity of change.

After reading this--and the recent 5th bday story--I can absolutely see how change is something Comte has a complicated relationship with. He's known a certain way of life for so long, has constructed a sensibility of distant, rational maturity. After all the heartbreak of his youth, and two very acute traumatic events in his life, I can see why he'd be so afraid of broaching any kind of proximity with another person. Because on some level it's so much easier not to put your feelings on the line, to never have to fear devastating loss. And that's to say nothing of the worry of being unable to measure up on behalf of another person, of letting them down.

I'm so excited to see the rest of the contents, but something about the preview made me equal parts giddy and enamored (all I do is kick my feet with excitement LOL). I think what gets to me with Comte is that he truly does love companionship as a place to rest, a place where he can be honest about himself and his feelings without fear of ridicule (and the same goes for MC). In a world increasingly obsessed with surface level performances of power, status, and emotion, it's hard not to feel his exhaustion to the core.

Also, because these lines at the end more or less destroyed me in the best possible way:

MC: ...The you who had nowhere to belong no longer exists. In much the same way...Abel, I belong to you. Comte: ... Comte: I wish I could say to myself all those years ago, the me who kept indulging in such paltry things. Comte: Until you meet MC, you will never know love... The warmth of MC in my arms filled me with such joy I was near tears. (I don't need momentary pleasure or ephemeral affection any longer. Now that I know love, there's nothing but you.) The moment my lips found hers, the sweetness lit a fire deep in my body. Comte: These cute lips that melt against mine, the heat of your skin, the love that envelops me in your embrace--always leaves me so deeply in love with you.

[mecha--maniac]

Giving the scrungles chao saga

Mephiles's? Sweet babyangel service chao; if they did races Meph would definitely be dancemom manipulative of the other chao handlers just to make them fight, with the chao being none the wiser.

Metal's starts off as a feral little shit that loves to bite; but biting is not very effective on Metal, so oops bro, looks like you have been government assigned a chao (Who eventually warms up to him with the correct combination of ignoring their shenanigans and manhandling them into being socialized. No, we are having a nice day at the beach, you may not go and bite small children)

The third one is for an unpictured different Metal. This one was a rescue and is very shy, but their mommy is very scary with a resting murder face which gives them some more confidence as they grow up. Anyone who messes with this chao would wind up mysteriously missing.

If these were in the game...

Meph's chao would operate like a chaos chao, except it needs higher stats in power and flight.

Metal chao 1 would be neutral/speed/flight with a disproportionate amount of kangaroos and/or bug animals givin to it.

Metal chao 2 would be dark/power/flying, raised primarily on drives and dragons.

[trainingdummyrabbit]

haiii pik :] i'm usually Scared to ask this in your inbox out of nowhere because i don't wanna bother at the wrong time but,, , uhm i have been Thinking. about the cocoa and lc agent azrael duo quite a bit lately and. this is all just a hypothetical for Funsies and i do no want to disrupt your original plot in the facility but just. wanting to talk about what it'd be like if they actually got to work together in the facility ^_^ considering cocoa's whole yk. That. and azrael's own problems i wonder how it'd be like for them to have be assigned to suppress higher risk level abnos and deal with later ordeals., ,this may or may not be an invite to talk extensively but it's all up to you o7

CRACKS KNUCKLES. I Can Do This >:] verily !!

quite a lot to chew on tbh... honestly, the starting would be the hardest part ithink. or at least, on her end it would be.

this got quite long and rambly. continue if you will. 👍

see like, cocoa isnt really Averse to interaction in any sense of the word-- she was honestly quite friendly, if a bit spacey. towards the start of her being Like That, i mean. super airheaded, will honestly just go along with things if you drag her along. she just kinda. ":)?" ":)!" ":)??" she doesnt really register that much, but just kinda matches the energy of whoevers around her.

but at the same time, shes very distant in the sense that. She Is Not Paying Attention. kinda resets between scenes, if you will. you have to be pretty persistent for her to ever actively remember anything-- let alone for her to Act on that memory. shes silly and will play around, but also she like. Really Super Doesnt Care, actually. the "and" in the "yes, and", if you will. (also she doesnt really. Speak. she has certain basic phrases and echoes whats said around her, but only ever really Responds that way.)

otherwise, shes very mechanical. does as she does and doesnt think about it too hard. however, its hard to notice the Drive of her actions unless you Really pay attention to her. because it usually just comes off as "She Just Does What She Wants. we just dont know what that is. shes surely got her reasons though." all it really is is habit, though. habit and the vague idea of Yeah Thats Close Enough To What People Do, Sure.

all that to say, youre gonna have a Really hard time reaching her that way. she is Not paying attention and Will Not Remember. though, depending on where azrael is in his whole . Everything. it could be different. if hes still locked in his Distancing state, i imagine theyd be. pretty wholly neutral. yknow the whole 'weve never talked but we sit at the same bus stop at the same time every day in silence so now itd be weird if they werent there' thing? like that. in idle downtime, they are just. next to each other, vaguely. (id have to wonder if azrael would notice how consistently Still she is. if anything would come of this. she is present to a very common degree, but never Does anything, past when shes called for something. she herself is unbothered by this, but..?)

if hes more in his Prying state, being more curious, things could be a smidge different. i can imagine that, given azrael's background and how he functioned towards the start of his arc, the way she acts might. bother him, a little. not necessarily "irritate," but more. "Somethings Not Right Here." she wouldnt make it any easier to find out (given that she doesnt even hide it on purpose really,) but there Are little notes to be picked up from her.

i dont think anything could be done for her that would "wake her up" in that state, but i think he Would be able to become a part of her Normal. just. yeah. that one. that one thats always there, and then comes and sits next to me, and talks about things. not quite consciously, but she'd come to Expect him to be there. just kinda passively gravitates. makes room for him, if you will.

now, combat-wise. honestly? i think theyd work pretty well together. iirc az is more dps focused, given the whole. Motions To All Of Him. despite the Big Fuckoff Sword, cocoas actually more of a tank role when it comes to combat. she just. Takes It. its honestly really reckless-- she doesnt even Try to dodge a lot of the time. you can toss her around like a ragdoll and shell just get back up. even if shes pretty critically injured, she just. keeps doing it. the "Just Win" approach, if you will. shes a persistence predator. theres no reason for her to Stop when she starts, so she doesnt. itd be. really dangerous, if she wasnt a little freak of nature jdhfbgjdhf

which is to say, cocoa would be very very capable of covering for azrael if ever they had to face a threat together. though, more pressingly, to me, this is where more of cocoas character gets the chance to show through. she works well, very thorough, very reliable in her role; but her demeanor is a Very stark change from her usual. Violentce(tm). its the closest to Actually Agitated that she can get at that point. the "mechanical" descriptor becomes less of a similarity and more. um. concerning.

the thing is, too, is that she gets uneasy when someone else is in the line of fire. its hard to tell if this is some sort of concern, or if its just that she doesnt like having to keep track of another variable to work around. (its both. unfortunately, she represses the 'concern' Hard, and it kind of comes across as irritation. or um. as 'irritated' as she can get, really.) which is, again, to say; she will get Very restless if someone has to cover for her. shes entirely task-oriented, but theres a certain Tension she seems to put off when things get dire.

...that she entirely seems oblivious to the instant things calm down. and i think that would be what tips azrael off about. yk. Something Being Wrong With This One.

so like. the thing about these two is that cocoa is like, wholly Entirely incapable of exerting any sort of Anything of herself for a very long time. however, azrael very well could have the patience and persistence to simply. chip his way in. again, become part of her normal. becomes Habit. if he does, its hard to say that she Notices, but the way she acts does Change. routine starts to form Around him, and all. and honestly... that is really, really important to her.

because like. if someone is constantly just There for her, she will do the same thing back. maybe not entirely consciously, but still enough to be noticeable. she isnt very capable of reaching out, but she Does know that patience. and will simply allow things to be, to be said, without positing any expectation.

(i cant really speak much on either of their respective breakdowns-- azrael's because i feel it is not my place to speak (and cocoa is terribly suited to this sort of thing past essentially just being a punching bag,) and cocoa's because. um. Well Thats Quite A Lot. its something she only reaches due to the presence of another character (You Know Her.) and only really gets out of due to being a) Exhausted, and b) Stopped From Doing Serious Damage To Herself (and others..) in all honesty, i cant really say she Solved much past being able to see herself a bit more. but thats an aside.)

past everything, though, in her more conscious state... i do actually genuinely think they could get along pretty well. they have a very similar calmness about them, for lack of a better term. stillness. azrael would. also very much enable cocoa's sharp tongue, which is Really funny to think about. stupid little thinglets staring at you from a distance. silently, but the judgement in it is nigh tangible.. jhdbfgjd

they have this odd sort of dynamic, to me; this kinda dry, kinda sharp sort of reaction to things. cocoa very much (in the cat sort of way,) mirrors azraels demeanor, simply because well. he feels like the type of character she would genuinely start to trust, once she gets the ability to. shes still heavily passive, but remembers more, and goes out of her way to accommodate him. cat bringing you leaves and twigs but its things he may have said he'd liked at some point. (she also gets much more Defensive of the people she chooses to like, so that as well..)

her method of showing closeness to people is incredibly, Incredibly quiet, but i think he'd be able to do it, if he can push through those first barriers. she's hard to goad into much of anything, so you rarely ever get anything out of her, but it Does affect her.

i do also think about the funny little "Thats My Friend." whiteboarddoodle from the other day cause like. thats Exactly it, really. like.. she would just. "oh. we're friends? okay cool :)" and would play that part until she actually gets the mind to register "oh wait. youve been here the whole time. oh. okay."

tl;dr theyre getting wellcheers together in the break room. in my heart. yay <33

[evilmagician430]

mabeline/jonah wolf in my 2020s timeskip au! read my tags for more information about her

[sysig]

2024 Art Purge (Part 1)

Original Edition again! Another year of too many doodles between original and fanart that didn’t make the full cut over the course of the year - off we go!

I made some concept art for smol early in the year of a mushroom girl she had a dream about a while ago that she wanted to try making as a low-poly model sometime. Pretty sure we've narrowed it down to the original DS-era style of 3D models

And so some angular low-poly style doodles were also called for! She's so tiny haha

Around the same time I was thinking about ZEX's “Kissing Strangers” meme, I started considering what Charm's reaction to that one might be - I'm always trying to think of animation memes for her, I'd love to animate her sometime ♥ In the end, it was all a bit too weird! In a way it’s fitting, as the meme is all about Looking and not finding the one you want to kiss til the very end lol, but who would that even be! Who would Charm Want to kiss, I don't know...

[Purple Text] only got a very little bit of screentime this year, but they're just as weird and possessive as ever - once, forever and always, at least according to how they see things

Smol and I tried out a few different creative games over the course of the year - my favourite probably being the Crossover Wheel where we each put in our list of fandoms, including ones we share, and then imagine what a crossover would be like haha. House Hunted is one of hers, and she tossed the idea my way of looking at Zillow Listings (specifically this group) and imagining them as Realtors! I got the Sunflower House - you'll know it when you see it haha

Bit of a random one, but I thought the sheep from this little scene was hecka cute and needed to study her. Good shapes! Very adorable! I like her covered eyes quite a lot, and her spindly little legs, funny to me hehe

I also wanted to study her "Leg of Lamb" posing - can you tell this is memory vs. references lol. S'why references are so important! The original's delicate posing is very lovely! The soft positioning of her knees and ankles and the way she's fully reaching across herself with those fluffy "sleeves" are probably my favourite parts, it's a good pose!

Haven't done any Halfway Autumn concept art in a while-while, so why not come back with Diana's bathroom lol. Still a bit of work to be done, moving the door is probably the biggest point - having the leftmost wall lined with counter space is clearly the correct play here. I really like the shapes that naturally occur from isometric, like the way the shower curtain rod connects to "nothing" but it still reads as stopping at the wall! :D

All of this floorplanning just for some flavourtext about Diana's preferred style of hand soap haha. Foaming soap dispensers are the best! Makes everything much much clearer, definitely not just because I prefer it, it's totally objective! Haha

More bathroom flavourtext, either at the schoolhouse or the train station, or both! Since so much of the game is centered around Diana's needs, little things like what soap she uses actually impact the game! I wish something so simple wouldn't affect my day, but sensory needs are called needs for a reason :P

Started a Charm comic that unfortunately only got as far as the first panel haha - she's taking a class! Off to improve her skills at something in a group environment! Good for her :)

Or not, the sads are here :'0

Did a bit of Tsumtsum studying while drawing the Helix boys as such haha - I have one of those little Vocaloid not-Tsumtsums (they're only Tsumtsums if they're Disney, right?), and one full-sized Iron Man one that I studied the approximate shapes of the pattern from, they don't Look complex and they're probably not Actually that hard to make but there's still a good bit to them! 3D shapes, I swear

The 4th Wall group! Their poses and expressions changed a bit from start to finish, Cory once again looking at Bar - I don't think he's actually "seen" Bar's new design before this point! :0 They're all generally aware of each other but "actually interacting" is a whole other thing haha

The two stragglers, made Tala way too tiny here haha. And forgot her bow here, no wonder I forgot it for the full version too! Pfbtl, next time :P

A traditional version of the Just Desserts map! :D Made after putting the digital version together, just kind of loosely studied, general shapes good for mapmaking :) I quite enjoy the little mountain texture here over the one from the digital version! S'hard to make nice-looking shapes without my tablet but I really didn't want to use it Just for that haha, so nice shapes here! Gives me DQIX map vibes, just a little bit... All those little islands to sail to haha

Snake, snake, snaaake, it's a snaaaake ♪ Made for smol's Christmas exchange ostensibly, but really more of a spacefiller and to get into the swing of drawing snakes, the cute lads

Ball python in the style of a ball of yarn! I wouldn't mind wrapping up a plush snake, but the way real ball pythons curl up into a ball is too cute haha

Here was the Actual snake I ended up making for smol - as a bookmark! I printed a few different versions, coloured one like this with extra-dark spots for the scales, and glued on a ribbon-tongue, cut down the middle for a forked look! :D She liked it, and I like it! Double victory :)

A little sticker concept while my laptop was out for attempted repairs - can't save 'em all I suppose. I do like that the head mirror is a disc, the stethoscope is a mouse, cute little details even for an unfortunate set of circumstances

[nguyenfinity]

"This’ll be a quick sketch” I said,”A fast design” I am a liar and a fraud to myself. Anyways here’s Fairy Godmother Wataru as promised @niicookie​

He deserves only the most convoluted and glittery of outfits tho

Bonus:

[moe-broey]

Why did I start like three other projects when I was already working on a big project when I just got hit with the autism exhaustion beam (requires. At least One Full Day just dead in bed, and then some more Taking It Easy time after)

[cursezoroark]

confrontation

[fablegaze]

Spectember day 16 - sapient dragons

lazy day 16 because I didn't sleep much (entirely my own fault) and don't have it in me to make new drawings

(both images here were drawn in late august & are a bit janky bc i did it quickly but it's good enough for now)

the dragon planet is inhabited by animals superficially resembling dragons from our own mythology

all dragons are descended from a common ancestor, the salamander, and two different species of dragon from two different lineages evolved sapience at more or less the same time

the two sapient dragons are wyverns; a flying species of dragon that has turned their middle pair of limbs into wings. they can also use their front limbs as arms, while the wings & back legs handle all the walking

and drakes; an arboreal species with 1 pair of legs and 2 pairs of arms

all salamander descendants, including wyverns & drakes, have 6 limbs, and their brain is safely tucked away inside their ribcage. the head is just the mouth and sensory organs. the nostrils are on the body somewhere too i'm just too lazy to move them off of the head

[guinevereslancelot]

not to be ungrateful but i don't get paid enough at my job lol