#I had started to draw this expression on the second sketch and it went out of control because of one of Zenyatta's orbs ^^'''

[yore-donatsu]

My fingers were itching ✍️

[starboykel]

an artist and his muse ⭑⚝

artist! König x chubby!F!reader

!!content warnings: nudity, suggestive but nothing happens, Konig is slightly cold and rude, shaving, reader is described as 'plump' 'chubby'. Slow burn.

3,6k words — english isn't my first language, I apologize for any mistakes !

You were the daughter of a model, your father in his youngers was a famous model, modelling for artists and his body was practically all over Austria, in paintings, portraits, movies, you name it! Every slightly artistic place you went he was there. He was more famous in Austria than internacionally but he was still famous, a bunch of people would recognize him even in a small country, that was sure... And you were an introvert.

You didn't liked the attention, how everyone's eyes were always on you, trying to interview you, to get into your personal life and invading your space. You never meet your mother and the fact you looked a lot like your father didn't helped, apparently, you mother was an immigrant that got deported back to her country and her DNA was nowhere to be found... So you lived all your life with your father, Anton. You were half Austrian and half whatever your mother was, you didn't looked like an stereotypical Austrian girl, that was sure but you also didn't fit any other stereotype, making your beauty unique...

One thing was sure, the few genes that were in your body from your mother made a difference. While you father was more muscular, you were more plump, chubby. You father never bodyshamed you but he did made your exercise but you could never lose the weight, you weren't unhealthy you just... Couldn't change your body and surgery was out of question, your father never needed one, why would you?

One day, you decided to try modelling. Starting at something small since you didn't liked the spotlights, you model for a local clothes store that were looking for bigger model and just your last name made them immediately accept you. You just took a few photos and done, you made great money and was happy.

You decided to buy something sweet before going back home, you get inside a ice-cream parlor and orders your favorite milkshake and some donuts. You sit down on one of the comfy pink chairs and starts eating... Then, this wall of a man walks in, he had a long wavy ginger hair, a tired expression and glasses on, he was handsome, you can't deny it. He orders some sundae and sits down, waiting.

He takes off a sketchbook and starts sketching some poses and expressions. You decides to be nosy and peeks on it but he notices and closes the notebook, "oh sorry- I'm...I was just intrigued... Sorry." You apologizes, thinking you might have made him uncomfortable but then his sundae is ready and he stands up to grab it and then walks out of the parlor. You sigh and goes back to your donut.

You finished and just then you noticed, the man had forgotten his sketchbook. You grab it and opens it, he had a lot of drawings there, that man had so much talent, hot and smart? That's your type. His signature was almost unreadable but you can make a few letter out of it and assumes its something along the lines of 'König'... Well, king. You assume it's just a nickname, a bunch of artists has those artistic names just to be easily recognized and such. You liked how that sounds, 'König'...

You grabbed his sketchbook and starts walking around the city, looking for him but you couldn't find him anywhere, he could've took an Uber and already be in another city and you were there, with his random guy sketchbook... You take a closer look and finds at one of the last pages, 'If lost — call (xxxxxxxx)' and then a phone number. You dial the number on your cellphone and after a few seconds, it's accepted.

"Hello?" "Hello, hm... Is this König?" "Ja." You gulps, this man had only spoke two words and you were already falling in love with his deep voice.

"Uh... You were at the ice cream parlor earlier and you forgot your sketchbooks, I'm waiting here on front of it, I'm with it." You explains and it goes silent for a while. "Scheisse..." Then, he hangs out, leaving you confused. You assume he's coming, so you stay there.

...

You get distracted by your phone, spending time on whatever social media you were until you heard a raspy voice behind you, "Hey." You jump in surprise, looking at the guy behind... It was the big guy, "oh hey..." You replies and he reaches out for the sketchbook, in which you give him.

You two stare at each other until you can see him frowning under the mask, "You're... Anton's daughter?" He questions and you nods, his eyes widen slightly. "Mein gott... You're identical to him." He says, a bit amazed, you were beautiful but he thought you would be somewhere else, at a fancier ice cream parlor, where the ice creams would be so expensive a commoner like him wouldn't never even feel the sweet taste of the cold dessert... But you were in front of him, at a mediocre at best ice cream parlor, looking up at him with your pretty eyes.

"Everyone says that, you're not the first." You spoke, smiling up at him. "Oh by the way, what's your name? I saw here that is König but-" "Call me that." "Uh?" "König... My name is König." He interrupts you a few times, making you chuckles. "Well... You aleady know my name." You replies and he nods, "Who doesn't?" He jokes and laughs softly, making you giggle.

You look up at him. He wasn't an ugly guy, no, he was quite handsome actually, his smile was even prettier, the scar on his lips was such a charm and his tired eyes were so hypnotizing... You noticed you were staring for too long and looks back down, blushing slightly, getting embarrassed. "Sorry- I-i...I'm just intrigued, you're so tall and big." You excuses, gesturing confused, trying to explain yourself. He shakes his head, "I don't care." He says, a bit harshly, "I need to go, delete my number. Bye." He starts walking away before you could say goodbye back and question why he wanted you to delete his number... But you do as what he asked.

⚝

A few weeks passed by after the unusual encounter with the scary big artist guy at the ice cream parlor. You went to that same ice cream parlor practically everyday after modeling but he never came back.

One day, you were walking in the park, just looking around, petting some cats here and there, watching the ducks swimming and then you notice that same guy, with a canvas, painting the lake with the duck. He had his hair tied back this time, he notices you at the other side of the lake and looks at you for a moment before going back to the canvas. You quietly approached him, you weren't the only one watching him paint, 2 or 3 more people watching, one of them with a child but you were the only one there when he finished, at 6pm.

He stares at it. He doesn't look like someone that likes what he sees as he frowns slightly. "I think it looks good." You steps in, looking at the painting, a gentle breeze passing by, making you shiver, "oh, I forget how cold Austria can be sometimes..." You says, a bit embarrassed. He doesn't even look at you as he keeps eyeing the canvas, trying to figure how what he did wrong. He stares at it for a few minutes until it clicked... The ducks, he forgot the ducks but it was already late and he had to come back tomorrow to try again. He starts packing his thing while you rambled, he wasn't even paying attention. He walks away without looking at you.

"Rude..." You sighs and whispers to yourself until another cold breeze comes and you start running back home desperately.

Your father was at the living room when you got back home, "You forgot your hoodie?" He says, not taking the eyes out of the book he was reading, "I didn't know it would be that cold today." You replies. "It was all over the news, tonight it's a snow night." Your father says and before you could reply, he interrupts, "The bathtub it's filled with warm water, go take a shower, you smell bad." He complains. You rolls your eyes and goes to the bathroom.

You grab your cellphone before stepping into the bathtub, you always liked listening to music while cleaning yourself — even if your father complained —, you put on your favorite playlist but then, you receive a message. It was the clothe store you modelled for the last time.

"Hey, are you free next weekend? We need you to model some new skirts, shirts and sweaters for our winter season." It reads, you reply with a 'yes' and they send you the informations about the time and place.

⚝

The week passed by like a minute and it was already the weekend. You got ready for the photoshoot, took a shower, the hairstylists fixed your hair and you went to try on the new clothes, they were cute and really warm, the skirts had warm shorts sew on them, making a good job on protection and keeping the person warm, the sweaters were cute and really, really warm, the long sleeved shirts had a cute print on it. The photoshoot was at the park, they closed an area of the park so you could take the photos, you were really nervous since a lot of people were watching you pose and the snow was making everything harder, the cameraman having to often clean the lenses even with the lense protection because the thin snow was getting underneath it.

Everything went well, the photos were pretty, you were amazing and the clothes were ready to be sold, you even got a few of them! You were getting ready to leave the park when someone approached you... It was the big guy from a few days ago. He just... Stared at you, he hands you a paper and then walk away, he didn't even ran, he just... Simply, walked away, leaving you confused.

You opened the paper and it was... A bunch of sketches of the poses you were making during the photoshoot and a big sketch of you, even the smallest detail of the skirt and oh god, how did he made the sweater look so comfy with just a bunch of lines? Your eyes were practically shining, impressed by the amount of details. You noticed a phone number on the back of the paper, 'call me.' it says. You think for a moment and puts the paper on your backpack carefully.

⚝

It was 10pm when you got home, exhausted. The day was filled with you and the editor of the magazine of the clothe store, he was a new guy there and was always asking for your feedback, the only problem was that he talked a lot! He was talented, amazing, but he just couldn't shut up for a minute and you had to listen to his annoying rambling for hours to the point you started having a headache.

When you got home, you took some headache meds and took a warm shower, cleaned your hair and put on your pajamas. You practically jumped on the bed, the warm temperature of your room making you immediately fall asleep.

⚝

You woke up at 7am Went to the kitchen and you found a note, from your father, 'I went to Mödling, gonna meet a woman. Take care of yourself. There's money on my room, be safe and smart.' it wrote. You rolls your eyes and sighs, your father was always like this, went to another place, minutes, hours or even days away just to meet someone, it always annoyed you but you couldn't do anything, you're in your 20s and he was in his 50s, changing him wasn't easy and he absolutely loved his car, you think he loves that car more than he loves you... But at 7am?! He was crazy.

Anyway, you made some breakfast for yourself, something simple as you were just going to stay at home today. You were planning to just lay around and watch TV the whole day, you really wanted to watch that new series on Netflix... But then you remembered the paper the big guy gave you and the number on it. You decided to message him while you ate, not really thinking he would answer you, it was 7am after all...

'Hey, it's Anton's daughter, the model girl :) how are you?' you sends and then goes back to eating.

It took a few minutes but he texted back, 'hey'... Dry and simple as always. You two texted for a few minutes until he eventually went straight to the point.

'i need a model and I saw you at the park, you're perfect for what i want to do, how much do you ask for an hour?' He sends, you were taken by surprise, he wants you to model for him? Yeah, sure, whatever, that's what it's paying for bills for a long time now. 'how much are you willing to pay?' '€30/hour.' you think for a moment, €30 is fine but you don't know how long it is going to take... So you ask. 'How long it would take?' '4-5 hours.' oh wow, that was a quick response, he probably already has all your questions answered and you're just wasting your time now.

'when and where?' 'today at 10am, at the local museum, i have a room for myself there, it has cameras, you can call a friend if you want if it makes your feel safer with me, I just want to get my work done.' another quick response, you send him a thumbs up and he answered with an 'okay'.

You finished eating, washed the dishes, did your bed, organized the living room and took a shower, you don't often shave but you decided to shave your legs, arms and armpits. Exfoliating your skin gently and then using the soft razor that was like a massage on your skin, soft and gentle, then moisturizing with a cream for post-shave that smelled so good you were addicted.

It was 9:40am, you got dressed with something simple, simple jeans short, a white shirt and some comfortable shoes and socks, everything so simple that if someone saw you at the streets they couldn't even know your dad is one of the most famous men in Austria. You got into your bike and starts riding to the museum while listening to some music.

You arrived at the museum at 9:57am, took off your headphones and headed inside, König was there, waiting for you. You two looked at each other. "Hey." You says and he motions for you to follow him. He leads you to a backroom, filled with art supplies such as empty canvas, paints, a bunch of brushes, chair and such.

He takes a deep breath, "take off your clothes." He says, shocking you. Like, you don't even know his real name and he wants to see you naked?... Yeah, sure, that's what being a model means. You nods and takes off your clothes, staying on your bra and panties. He stares at your body for a moment but it doesn't look like he's looking at you lustful or like something sexual but rather as something to be studied and adored. He nods and explains you how to pose.

He sits you in the edge of a chair, putting your hands on your knees, 'the palms down' he repeats, tilting your head a bit to the left side, letting your hair fall in your shoulders, placing the right leg over the left one and arching your spine a bit.

After 40 minutes or so, you couldn't tell the time, you started to get bored, he wasn't talking to you and making small talk was useless, that man was concentrated and didn't want to talk. "Hey." You say and he doesn't even look at you, "hey... Heeey!!" He then looks at you, sounding a bit frustrated, "what?" "Can you turn the TV on? I'm bored." He sighs and turns on the TV, putting on a random sitcom. It was good, too good, you starts chuckling and giggling at the bad jokes, smiling and probably ruining the neutral expression he wanted you to keep.

He shakes his head, "You seem to be enjoying yourself." He commented, not leaving his eyes out of you and the canvas. "It's not everyday i pose practically naked for an artist i met at an ice cream parlor." You answered and he even smiles a bit.

"Thats true." He replies and continues on the painting, after a few minutes, you opened your mouth again. "Do you work with your art?" You asks, he nods, "I do commissions, people pay me to paint then and I have my own little exhibition on the museum." He replies, brushing the canvas talentedly, seeming a bit more good humored.

"Do you paint a lot of naked people or is it just me?" You asks, smiling and König laughs a bit. "I've had my fair share of naked paintings, you're not the first one and probably not the last." He laughed but it didn't last long until his cold expression came back. His expressions change so quickly it's actually impressive.

⚝

You were getting tired, your butt was hurting of sitting down on that goddamn chair for so long and your hand was itching and the sitcom was getting bored, how long has it passes? 2 hours, 3 hours? Before you could fall asleep, König speaks, "We are gonna do a pause now, it's..." He looks at the clock, "It's 1pm, I'm gonna get us some lunch. Put your back on if you wish." He stated and put the brush and palette he was using on the table next to the canvas. You grab your clothing and puts it back on, it was good to put your clothes back on, you stepped outside and... Oh, it was snowing again and you didn't had your hoodie with you, damn.

You followed König to a cafeteria, it was a simple and cute little place with not a lot of people and a cheap selfservice. You got just spaghetti and orange juice and König... His plate was a mess, honestly, and he was drinking water. You decided to start some small talk, "How old are you?" You ask. "32." He replied, more focused on eating than answering you, you nodded, taking the hint that he doesn't want to talk but at least now you know his age. And you two got back to the museum after eating at 1:40pm.

⚝

Hours passed by like a minute and all of a sudden, he was finished with the painting and you were tired and it was just 5pm! He grabbed the canvas to the outside to dry while you put your clothes back on and drank some water. You went outside to the garden, where he was with the painting and you finally got a look at the canva... It was amazing, beautiful, you were mesmerized, your eyes shining but then, the cold breeze hits you again, slapping you out of your state, "Oh, shit-" you complained, hugging yourself to keep warm.

König looks at you and sighed, he approached you and took off his jacket and wrapped it around you, "I'll take you home. It's not safe to ride a bike in the snow." He says and leads you outside, you nods and follows him, putting on his warm jacket. He opens the car's door to you, what a gentleman.

You tell him his address and he starts driving, the bike on the car trunk, the warmer of the car keeping you two warm and a music coming out of the radio. It took a few minutes to get home and you the two of you got there, what was just a simple snow turned into a snow storm, you didn't thought twice when you insisted to visit him inside... But he refused.

"I can go home. I'll be fine." He insisted, "No, c'mon, I'll make some coffee for us, I- "I said no." He says, as cold as the snow, he walks away like the first time you two meet at the ice cream parlor. You were frustrated, all of that, he saw you naked, he payed for your food, he drove you home and he wouldn't let you return the favor? "Rude!" You shouts and he turns back to you, looking a you frowning, "What's wrong with you? I just want to help! It's a snow storm, you're gonna get stuck in the snow! Let me return the favor, König!" You shouts, the sound of the wind muffling your voice slightly. He seemed to think for a moment when he starts walking back to you and get inside your house.

König took a deep breath and looks at you as you locked the door and took off your shoes. "Why?" He asks and you looks up at him, "what-" "Why are you helping me? Why do you care?" He interrupts, sounding a bit desperate, damn, who hurt this man? "I couldn't let you freeze outside, you'd die." You replies, turning on the warmer. It was just 6:30pm and you were hungry and delivery was out off limit so you would have to cook. He nods and sits down on the couch, looking nervous.

You went to the kitchen and starts to cut some vegetables, he quietly walks behind you, "can I help?" He offered his help and you give him the meat, "Cut it, season it with salt and add it to the oil in the frying pan." You practically ordered, focused on the vegetables. He does as you asked, you two talk while cooking and you discovered a few things about him. He was single, served the army for 10 years, was an only child and was allergic to peanuts and some other things. His smile was beautiful and his long hair falling on his broad shoulders was so handsome... He was handsome!

You and König sat down to eat looking at each other, "Hm- you put too much salt on the meat." You commented and he smiles, "sorry." He apologizes. You two eat mostly in silence and it was already 7:50pm when the plates were empty and the dishes were clean. You helped König organize the guest room for him, finally fixing the broken warmer of the room with his help, you gave him a disposable toothbrush and grabbed a few clothes from your dad so König could shower.

It was 9:20pm, König was sleeping and you were on your room... Feeling a warm sensation on your chest, it was love, it was obvious but you don't know if he loves you back, he was so hard to understand, difficult to read. You took a deep breath and tried to relax, you fell asleep after some long minutes.

⚝

You woke up at 8am and went to the living room, you saw König getting ready to leave. He looks at you, "Hey." He says, "Thank you for letting me sleep here tonight." He added, you nods. You approached him and gives him a hug, "Be safe out there, okay?" You says and he returns the hug, in a bold movement, he kisses you forehead and smiles, "Bye... Can you open the door?" You nods, blushing slightly, you open the door and steps ouside, the snow practically melted, he waves at you and smiles, "Bye!" You waves back, smiling and blushing. You close the door and sighs happily, your heart beating fast, your face red and a dumb smile on your face.

Well, you have things to do, so it's best to forget him for now. For now.

┄┄ ︰ ┄୨୧┄ ︰ ┄┄

Askbox is open!

[beatcroc]

a year!!! as of today i have now been drawing these funny little pizza freaks, to the exclusion of almost everything else, for!!! an entire year!!! i wanted to do a nice group shot/lineup of everybody to compare to when i first started trying to draw them because oh boy were they bad. i never even posted most of them anywhere because they were so bad. but im posting them here, now, to see how everything's changed/evolved.

this is probably the hardest time i've ever had trying to figure out how to work with a style, but we got there eventually; i'm pretty happy with the handle i've got on everybody now...dont let ur memes be dreams. lots of unimportant journaling and idle thoughts abt it below.

older pics

the first one is the VERY first time i drew them, before i thought i was going to actually have any interest in drawing them [lmao]; it was just the one isolated image, for my friendserver, to illustrate the funney message, so there was no attempt to make it Good or actually understand anything going on w/ the designs or style.

second is the original run of practices sketches to start trying to figure them out for real; done after i started having ideas for the comics and such and realized oh god maybe i am actually gonna draw fanart for this. [again, lol, and lmao.]

third one is the first pt art thing i posted on here. there were a couple weeks of sprite studies between this one and the previous image. the one on the top right wasn't part of that post i just threw it on as space filler; i'd intended to shift to doing Sprite Redraws But Stylized to explore tings more, but that was the only one i did. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

individual characters

peppino: by far the hardest dear god. bro what ARE your shapes how DOES your face work. jesus christ. everything i have trouble with this style for, peppino has it in excess. i draw in polygons! i need consistency! and that is the last thing this kind of style is concerned with. they are made of squarshy clay and i do not understand how to mold them. i was really hoping trying to learn this game's style would GIVE me that kind of flexibility for fun exaggerated facial expression but i don't think much came of it in the end 😔. anyway on the bright side all this means once i got peppino figured out a little bit everybody else clicked way easier.

fake peppino: honestly i never did anything with him on purpose except for how his eyes work + the perma-smile thing. i figured ok hes supposed to look weird and off model so whatever happens with him happens. and it did. and it kept happening. it is still, in fact, happening.

noise/ette: somehow, for every bit that peppino was the least natural thing i've ever tried, these two worked pretty much right off the bat. i still don't understand it, seeing as pretty much all the things at play for peppino are also at work for them. i think the new sketches are actually a little worse than older ones but not enough that i care.

gustavo: really funny bc i drew him on model twice and just went 'okay, cool nice, easy, um. he doesn't have any fucking legs?' fortunately he was the only one i had a strong idea for how to stylize him [square] and it worked exactly as i was hoping so wahoo.

brick: is an animal and therefore 5000x easier and more natural for me to draw/stylize than anything else in the cast. that is Just a rat bro. i can draw a rat.

gerome: i think the funniest one here. the most drastic and least necessary change imo. i was gonna have him be really small at first, like smaller than the noises, but then i just... didn't. he's just peppino-sized now. also i gave him like. actual human facial structure, which is funny bc in most cases i'd do anything to avoid, but it works well for his being A Rock to give him some angles and definition like that+ to differentiate his vibe from the rest of the cast who are all very squishy. also since he is essentially Just A Head it's good to emphasize that too ig.

john: i only drew john a couple times but he gets to be here because i like him. and because most of the stuff i applied to gerome was readily applicable to john, though i did try to keep him a little more uncanny because he is a Huge And Lanky Freak. i hate that he is barefoot btw but idk how to make his color balance look right with shoes.

pizzahead: i did not want to put him on here honestly but i Have drawn him a handful of times and more importantly i didn't know what i was gonna do with john's pose if i didn't have him there to be glared at. the only thing that's different with him is giving him wider-bottomed pants, which i got from when i tried to draw these guys in clone high style [i never posted that one either][i will eventually]

snick: he gets to be here because 1. he's like 6 lines 2. i like him and 3. ive scribbled him a few times offhand and it went pretty well

misc

there are some guys missing because those are guys i didn't draw enough [or at all] to have gotten comfortable with them. sorry

i would have Liked to shade these but for the time being i have accepted that my grasp of light/shadow has decayed to the point im not going to be happy with anything i try there, so For Now i am working on my presentation with flats i guess. gerome has a shadow only because he's shaded like that ingame and looks naked without it

anyway if you are still reading [hi?] i get to shamelessly plug now. i'm over the hill of my pizza run now, and while i still have plenty of things i want to make here, most of the bigger more in-depth ones have passed. pizza tower was the first thing in THREE YEARS to get me out of my oc groove to doing fanart, and once i am done with my ideas here i will be going right back to it. if you like my art or how i write characters/interactions you should check out my oc/webcomic blog @jamverse . i can't promise people who like pizza stuff will be terribly into my designs, but i can guarantee i treat my guys with the exact same sort of tone i handle the pt guys with. and hell, i've mentioned it a few times before, but like 70% of my characterization for fake pep is just copied off one of my characters, so if u are going to miss him... he will still be there in spirit >;p

and if you dont care about any of that and are still reading thank you anyway. actually making these comics + seeing how shockingly well-received they've been has done a lot for my confidence, and for seeing that my kind of stuff IS something people enjoy :')

[estrangedandwayward]

Woo first (successful) watercolor portrait

Sketch and a little back story under the cut

So I've got a project I want to do involving drawing aegon, so I wanted to practice with a couple of standard portraits because I realized though I've probably done at least in the low hundreds of portraits with charcoal, And a few with colored pencil or marker, but I've never actually painted one. Most of my art is still of people, but usually full bodies and very small so I don't really have to worry about facial details all that much. Anyway, I tried last night to paint aegon

It started off well, I liked the sketch a lot (even the nose looks good), the line art was fine (I even gave him an earring because I saw that Tom glynn carney has one irl) but oh god it went badly fast, the shadows were too dark, I brought in the green way too soon so the whole thing had a weird undertone, the expression looked weird, I was getting impatient so the colors were smudging together. I tried to fix it with a little bit of gouache and that made it SO MUCH WORSE

He looks insane hungover. His eyebags (which i considered key in capturing his 'ive been drunk for the last 23 hours' essense) we making him look 50 years older than he was supposed to. I just decided to scrap it, didn't even peel the tape off, didn't bother doing cross hatching on top and went to bed. I decided to give it another shot tonight and I'm very happy that I did because I LOVE how the second attempt came out. It was also honestly pretty fun to paint, kinda wanna do more, haven't done portraits in a while so it might be fun to get back into it. I'd love to do one in my more impressionist-y style or one fully with gouache or with weird or interesting color pallettes idk

Point is, glad I didn't give up because now I have one more painting that I like

[marcasmacmanus]

Three Nobleman (Pt. III)

Lord Ambroys Belrose Desoleil

The last one I worked on. May one can tell this character is something really special to me.. and maybe that's one of the reasons this last portrait was a hell of a roller-coaster to me. Almost leading me to quit and abandoning the whole project. The reason why this particular painting has a different background than the other two is that I had to start over completely. The first mistake I made was the scale. At first I wanted to show way more of the character itself, what meant on the other hand, that all the details got way smaller and I just wasn't able to adequately handle that. The second problem was that I somehow messed up his face/expression and wasn't able to figure out what went wrong or what it was exactly, that make it seem so odd to me.. And last but not least, my absolute lack of understanding color.. yep, I like painting stuff but I don't really understand how colors work.. His mane/hair became my arch nemesis. Not that it is hard enough, to work with bright colors that are pretty close to each other, without outlines, no, I had absolutely no idea how many different colors are needed to mix blonde.. just to make that slight difference to his coat. The decision to use the "older" version of him wasn't helping either. His younger self doesn't have the straight mane/hair, which makes it way easier to let it look like "hair". Well, at least to me. But in the end I think I somehow managed it to a degree that it is acceptable (for my fourth time with oils). To end the part of my struggle with this one, there was one thing left I wish I had noticed earlier, and that's the position of his left arm. I just took the sketch from my first try and scaled it up, not noticing that the arm may look a little bit odd now.

But that's aside, I also had a lot of fun with the painting. I totally got lost in the rose on his revers (because I love roses the most) and there are some more details which made me really happy how they turned out. But I have to confess that I cheated a little on this painting as well. It's the only of the three portraits that isn't exclusively painted in oils. His horn is actually painted over with nail-polish to get that opalescent shimmer.

Ambroys' portrait took me about 90 hours (first try included). It's based on this drawing by @kwillow - how-much-conditioner-do-you-think-olderamby-goes -, which again means that I don't want to take any credit for the artwork itself.

Yes, Ambroys means a lot to me and that may be the reason I look more critical on this one. But the most important thing for me is, that the new owners, @chocodile and @kwillow, like them and can gain some joy out of my work. You guys gave me so much through your characters and their stories, and helped me through a very hard, and so far the darkest chapter of my life. And therefore, thank you!

[prettypei]

hii i enjoy your writing! may i request fluff drabbles for gojo, choso, yuta, noritoshi (kamo from the kyoto school) and hajime (aka kashimo the turquoise haired pikachu) please? like he's in an established relationship with reader and they're out on a cute date, being domestic and behaving like an old married couple. some ideas: ikea, grocery shopping, aquarium, art gallery, science museum/observatory etc

bonus if there are sweet romantic moments~ i'm fine with either fem or gender neutral reader, thank you i hope you'll consider my request! i just need something comforting to read bc shibuya arc has started in the anime while the manga is kinda at a tensed climax rn and i feel stressed lmao

plot: cute dates/domestic couple thingys with them!; fluff

reader: gn! Reader

characters: gojo, yuuta, choso, kashimo, kamo

warnings: yuutas kinda mean in this (but in a yuuta way)

(a/n): first req!!!!!! Hi hello anon I hope u like it 💪💪💪 gojo’s bento is very stereotypical Japanese LOL…KAMO IS SRSLY UNDERRATED!!!! Erm I also have like zero knowledge of flowers so sorry if it’s inaccurate, KAMOS IS SUPER CHEESY ENDING GBHBHJHHJHJH

✰CHOSO

Choso loves art. But he doesn’t only love art, he also loves you. So when you suggested to take him to the art museum for a date, he was overjoyed by the thought. But… he was embarrassed that you would see his drawings of you, so he hid it discreetly in his bag when you went to the museum. Yes, he paints you. Sketches you, even. But he’s way too shy to admit it, because god, he could never capture the way your eyes glinted or the way your smile stood out or the expression of pure bliss when he kissed you… he tries to avoid drawing you, but he can’t. You’re in every thought of his. And now, he’s trying to hide his notebook from you. He’s hugging it close to his chest, hiding it under his book bag as he mimicked the painting in front of him. It was a simple one, really…but it looked like it was missing something. He thought for a minute and his brain clicked. It was missing you. You would fit perfectly into it, since your eye color would stand out splendidly. He just finished drawing your face before… “whatcha doing?” He stumbles and knocks over his collection of colored pencils over the bench he was sitting on. “Nothing.” “Are you drawing something? Can I see it?” You ask excitedly. And honestly, could he ever say no to you? He mumbled a bit as he gave the book to you and started picking up the colored pencils, and you were surprised to see your own face staring back at you. “Is-is this me?” You smile. You flip through the book, and you noticed how your face was on almost every page. Choso looks up with a flustered face. “I-well-kinda? Yeah?” You drop down to the floor and hug him. “You’re so cute.” You mumble with a grin on your face. If he had known this would’ve made you like this he would’ve shown you this ages ago.

✰YUUTA

You and yuuta were at the grocery store, the second time this week, because food was running out again, since yuuta always insists on "buying just enough for both of us so we don't waste any food". If you didn't lie, you thought he quite enjoyed your silly little trips to the groceries. Even though the walk was short, you and yuuta often point out interesting things that cross your path. Last week you saw a dog wearing a fur coat, and just yesterday yuuta heard a construction worker whistle out the tune to "From the start" by Laufey. It's those simple things that quickly become inside jokes for the both of you. Upon arriving at the store, you usually follow yuuta as he shops for suitable groceries for today's lunch and dinner. But...after going shopping with him 3 times when you were dating, you noticed yuuta had a habit of looking at food labels. For a really long time. As yuuta examines the ingredients for the canned pineapples (why would you even need to do that? It's literally just pineapples!) you whine about how he's taking so long that you've started getting wrinkles. He then proceeds to give you a chuckle and a "wait a minute, love." and continue to read the can's contents. "(name)." He calls out your name in the most serious tone you've ever heard him in. "what?" He reaches into the cart and takes out a can of "grilled takoyaki balls: freshly made" and gives you a disgusted look. You shrug sheepishly.

✰GOJO

"(NAME)!!! (NAMEEEE)!!!" A tic almost forms at your forehead when you hear that sound, and, lo and behold, it is your husband once again embarrassing you in front of your co-workers. You walk over to him while crossing your arms. "What are you doing?" You hiss as the women (and men) all around you give you jealous looks. "Can't I surprise my darlin' at work once in a while?" He grins while holding up a bento box. Your eyes soften as you look at the homemade bento. Yeah, it probably tastes like shit cuz Gojo really can't cook, but...it's nice to see him put in an effort once in a while. "I wanna see your reaction when you eat it." He says stubbornly as he pulls your hand into the office building. "Oh boy." You think when Gojo shrugs off the security guard and waves to everyone as he waltzes into the lunch break room like he owns the place. He pulls a chair down for you and sits down in another one. "Open it, open it!" He smiles. You roll your eyes with a chuckle, and you're expecting to see some unidentified gunk, but to your surprise, it's a cute bento with sausages shaped like squid, egg rolls tucked in nicely next to the fried rice, and meat balls on a stick. “I made it four times, did you like it? And, well, I may or may have not made our kitchen a mess but it’s worth-“ You shut him up with a kiss.

✰KAMO

“Kamo, love?” “Yes, dear?” “Look at how gorgeous these Daffodils are!” You pick up a potted plant of them as Kamo miles at you. Going on dates to flower shops had become a routine for you and Kamo, since you both would do it weekly. “Yes, darling, they are beautiful. Not as beautiful as you though.” “Shut up.” You scoff as you roll your eyes and shove him playfully. Kamo has a wide knowledge about flowers, knowing what each of them symbolize and what they represent. Before dating Kamo, you would’ve never known that red, white and pink carnations had different meanings, or that white Hyacinths stood for loveliness. Most of the time on these dates you would stroll through each aisles, pointing out flowers or plants that you thought were cute. Kamo would then proceed to tell you the meaning. On the surface, it may seem like a repetitive action, but with Kamo, everything feels new and interesting. He may tell you a story about what this plant reminds him of, or about how this flower wilts to your beauty. At the end of every date (usually the shopkeeper has to kick you both out) Kamo buys you a bouquet of flowers, each symbolizing something about your relationship with one another. Even though sometimes the flowers wilt and you have to throw them away, he knows that his love for you never will.

✰KASHIMO

"Kashi! You look just like it!" Kashimo hums as he opens one eye to see you holding up a cat. You both are at a cat cafe, since you really do love cats and, well, Kashimo doesn't mind cats, really. But when he met you (a certified-cat-lover) his love for them had grown. Now, whenever he sees a stray cat on the street, he takes a picture and shows it to you. "Do I? Its hair's not green." He points out. "Well, it doesn't have to be! You and him both give off the same vibes! I just saw him standing on top of the bookshelf, thought it looked lonely." "You think I'm lonely?" He teases, getting down from his seat to sit on the floor with you. “Nah. You’re never lonely with me.” You grin. “Say hi to it!” “Hello.” He says with a deadpan face. “You have to be friendly with it!” “Hello.” He smiles an obviously forced grin. “😐” “I love you.” “Okay.” “C’mon, baby don’t be like that.” He smirks as he scoots in closer with you. You roll your eyes as you start playing with the cat. Kashimo’s eyes narrow as he snatch’s the cat away from your arms. “Hey!” “If you keep on playing with it more than me, I’m gonna think you were wishing you were dating it.” He ruffles its hair as he lets it go. “You’re so mean. It’s cute! Unlike you.” “Who exactly is the mean one?” You giggle and poke his cheek. “I’m joking, joking. I love you.” There’s a moment of silence as he takes in the words. “Well, I love you more. If this is a competition, I’m definitely gonna win.”

[pursuedbyamemoryy]

Hello! How about something like Javier catching Reader (GN) sketching him? Reader has an interest in him but hasn’t really been the most obvious about it, showing it in more subtle ways

☆ i apologize for taking so long to answer your request, but thank you for being patient! i'm not sure how i feel about this piece, i went back and forth with it for a while. either way thank you for requesting, and i hope you enjoy reading <3 !!

w/c : 1.5k

it was a warm, sunny day in clemens point. you sat under a tree with your journal, quietly admiring and sketching javier from across camp. your journal was full of drawings of javier at this point, you’ve had a crush on him for a while but were never sure how to express how you felt outwardly. you’d sit with him by the campfire more often, compliment his singing more than usual, and even let your gaze linger on him for just a few seconds longer, but other than that you hadn’t done much to show your feelings for him.

he was currently sitting at one of the campfires, softly playing his guitar. his hair was fluttering in the gentle breeze, pulled back in his usual ponytail. his fingers gently plucked at the strings, a small smile on his face as he played a familiar song. you kept glancing up at him, trying to capture as many details as possible in your drawing of him. you had gotten so immersed in sketching him that you didn’t notice that he was looking right at you, his smile growing wider when your eyes met his. he glanced between you and your journal, raising an eyebrow, as if he was questioning what you were so focused on.

you felt your face grow warm, quickly averting your gaze. suddenly the blades of grass by your feet were very interesting. you were trying to avoid his gaze, slightly embarrassed. after a minute you glanced back at him as he shook his head and smiled, returning to his guitar and playing another familiar tune.

once your embarrassment faded, you returned to your work, adding some smaller details and shading. after a while you held your journal farther away, looking at your sketch from a different angle, and deciding you were happy with it.

you closed your journal and got up from your shady spot under the tree, making your way to your tent, tucking your journal into your trunk that sat beside your bedroll. you had already finished all your chores for the day, and decided to wander idly around camp, saying quick hellos to other camp members. you made your way over to the shore at the edge of camp, and sat down on the soft dirt. the sun was starting to sink below the trees, the sky changing from bright blue to a mix of pinks and oranges.

as always your mind drifted to javier. you could never get your mind off of him. he was so pretty, and not to mention cleaner and more well behaved than practically all the other men in camp. you loved the way he dressed, the way he tied his hair back. his hair looked so soft, you longed to run your fingers through it and play with it, maybe even braid it or put it up in silly styles. you loved the way his hands strummed his guitar and played the chords effortlessly. the way he fiddled with his knife, spinning it around when he was thinking or bored. you loved his slim waist and the way his hips moved when he walked.

you stayed there for a while, until the sun had fully set and the stars were starting to shine overhead. dragging yourself out of your thoughts you made your way over to one of the campfires, where a bunch of camp members were settled. they were listening to javier playing his guitar as usual, some even singing along, stumbling over the lyrics.

---

a couple days later you found yourself in a similar spot, underneath a tree in the shade, sketching javier. you didn’t know where he was as you hadn’t seen him in camp that morning, and you just assumed he was out on a job somewhere. you were working on an old sketch that you hadn’t quite finished, adding details and shading.

you heard the steady drum of hoofbeats coming up the trail and into camp, not bothering to check who it was, as you were focused on finishing this drawing. you wanted to give it to javier, and you wanted it to look good. you weren’t great with words, but you figured he’d understand how you felt once you showed him a drawing you did of him. every line was like a love confession, the way you were able to capture the small details that made him, him is not something someone who didn’t care about him would be able to do. you noticed every wrinkle, scar, blemish, and you loved them all, and drew them in a way that expressed that perfectly.

“you always have your nose in that journal of yours, don’t you, cariño?” you froze when you heard his voice, slowly turning to see javier slowing boaz to a stop next to you. he leaned down slightly, trying to get a better look at your journal. “i didn’t know you draw, looks good.” you saw his cheeks flush slightly as he realizes that you weren’t just drawing anything or anyone, you were drawing him.

“yeah, i’ve been drawing for a while. and thank you.” you say nervously, looking between him and your journal. did he like it? did he think you were weird or creepy for drawing him or was he flattered?

“what made you draw me, out of everyone in camp?” javier dismounted and sat next to you on the grass, your shoulders touching slightly and his thigh resting beside yours. he gently grabbed the corner of your journal, slightly turning it towards him in order to get a better look. he was so close, and he looked as good as ever. you felt even more nervous, your cheeks flushing an even brighter shade of pink.

“you’re just nice to look at, i guess.” you say quietly. you turned to look at him, and saw him smiling. he was looking so intensely at the drawing, as if he was soaking up every line you drew, committing it to memory.

“you draw really well, it really does look like me.” he paused. “is this why i always catch you staring at me?” he said turning to look at you, his smile turning into a teasing one.

you shrug, “i did say you were nice to look at, didn’t i?” you start to smile back, your anxiety fading away and your confidence growing. “i’ve drawn you other times too” you flip through your journal, showing him various other drawings and sketches of him.

he stared in awe at each and every one, not saying a word and just admiring your artwork. “these are great, you’re quite talented, cariño, why didn’t you show me these sooner?” he turned to look at you again, his cheeks slightly flushed.

“i guess i was just nervous. these drawings say a lot about how i feel about you, don’t you think?” you gently ran your thumb over one of your sketches, glancing up at him.

“they do, and that’s why i wish you showed me them sooner. maybe i wouldn't have been as scared to confess if i knew you felt the same.” he shook his head and chuckled. “i like you too.” he said softly, looking between your eyes and your lips.

you smiled, unable to hold back your excitement. “really?” he feels the same. he likes my drawings, and even more than that, he likes me.

“of course, mi amor, i wouldn’t lie to you.” he brought his hand up to cup your cheek gently, and you leaned into his touch. “can i kiss you?” he asked, his voice gentle.

you nodded and leaned in, his soft lips meeting your slightly chapped ones. it was a sweet kiss, soft and chaste, his lips moving delicately against yours.

after a moment you pulled away, resting your forehead against his and looking into his soft brown eyes. “i’ve been wanting to do that for a while” he said, smiling softly, his hand still resting on your cheek.

“me too javier, you have no idea.” you laughed, smiling warmly at him.

---

javier woke up the next morning, his eyelids fluttering as the rising sun hit his face. he groaned, rolling over in his bedroll, his hand hitting a piece of paper. he sat up slightly, rubbing his eyes. once his vision adjusted to the morning light he looked down at the piece of paper that had been gently placed by his pillow, a small flower placed right on top of it. it was a drawing of him, more specifically the one he caught you drawing yesterday. he smiled to himself and brought the flower up to his nose to smell it, humming happily. he looked around camp, his eyes catching yours as you took a sip of what he assumed was coffee. he gave you a warm smile, which you returned. he took the drawing and folded it gently, kissing it and placing it carefully in his trunk that laid beside his bedroll. he would continue to save every drawing you gave him, cherishing each and every one.

[kirchefuchs]

Two more random thoughts for ya today, one silly one actiony.

The silly one is just the thought of like during a makeout or something Ted actually gets Tinky to bleat like a goat and then is over here snickering while Tinky's actually kinda embarrassed by it.

And the actiony one is like....With the was Andrew Killgore was talking about "controlling the power of Tinky" for some reason I got the sense that the CCRP don't quite worship Tinky as they are *specifically targeting* him to use his powers.

The thought that brings to mind....In the time they actually start dating, Tinky is going to end up saving Ted's life *several* times...and Ted is going to end up saving Tinky at least once.

Yeeeeee!!! I love both of these ideas so much!!! I love the concept of Tinky displaying goat characteristics. It's just soooo funny, lol. You know I had to draw the aftermath of Tinky's accidental bleat, hehehe

I was also gonna try drawing something for the other thing, and I tried a lot, but I just wasn't satisfied with any of the sketches. So, unfortunately, no "Ted protecting Tinky" doodle today :(((

Although I did have an idea that sorta stemmed from that second thought. What if ccrp was able to somehow take Tinky's powers away from him and thusly turn him human in one timeline? I'm pretty sure I mentioned this idea in a previous ask, but I wanted to expand upon it here.

I drew a handful of messy sketches for it

Mosty, I just really wanted an excuse to mess around with Tinky's design som more cuz I wanted to see how he might look if he were more human. I when on a whole spiel in my discord server about it.

After having the thought of "Tinky with long, grown out hair," you know I had to draw it. I'm still trying to make the design still feel like Tinky, idk if I really captured it cuz I was more focused on designing the hair style than his facial expressions and stuff, but ya know. I can work on it

I just got really attached to the long hair thing cuz it makes him a little more like a mix between Curt and Jeff's portayals of Tinky. Again, I just need to work on facial expressions more now that I have the hair down.

Anyways, I kinda went off the rails with this one, but I hope it was fun anyway. I just love any excuse to doodle these guys, lol

[barbatusart]

how do you make your art so expressive and fluid-looking? do you have a technique or is it just how you've trained your hand? I try to get my figures more fluid but they always look so stiff! even practicing figure drawings...maybe because you draw so fast that helps? idk man...any advice? thank you!

thank you first off for such a compliment!!! fluidity & shape are the things i prize most in visual art to the point where ive given up gunning for "correctness" in favor of chasing the preservation of motion lol. gonna put my response and my Full Visual Art Journey to where i am now under the cut as it's an image-heavy one and a bit long winded (shocking for me to be long winded i know LOL)

so i absolutely used to have the exact same problem many years ago of my stuff being too stiff, ie my sketch would be loose and fun but my inks would be nervous & tight & not as fun to look at as the sketch

this is a super old thing from 2011 when i was still on my anatomy journey (you can tell cus the sternum and nose are, uh, interesting LOL) but you can kinda see what i mean - the sketch underneath is fun & has movement as sketches do, but these little fineliner inks are so visually Nervous. the issue for me at the time was that i was subconsciously exactly that: nervous of messing the picture up, and that fear of making a mistake telegraphed loud & clear to my inks. using fineliner tools 100% did not help me either, as microns & the like have little to no "give" to them; you put the pen to paper and you get what you get, and you have to sit there & meticulously build the line up to get any kind of lineweight.

i was ultra dissatisfied with my output so i made 2 changes a few years after this: i stopped doing pencil sketches and started just doing straight inks, and i swapped to a brushpen

these are from 2012 or so & some of the first things i did in straight brushpen inks with no pencil, and theyre a total mess but they are LOOSE AND FUN! i had 100% no idea what i was doing with the brushpen and had no control over it because i was so used to the thin lines pencil & microns gave me, so everything i made was sloppy & out of control as i was struggling to keep control of the tool, but honestly it was absolutely freeing for me. now i had the looseness of the sketch right there at the forefront. the issue was though, how could i get enough control of the brushpen to make something that wasnt so messy? even if i had freedom, if i got too wacky with it, itd just turn into a black ink mess. i was completely done with pencils at this point and didn't want to go back & risk losing this looseness & freedom, and then i realized like - what if i just do my straight ink sketch like this & then figure out a way to go back in & "carve" into it to clean it?

enter the next tool in the arsenal, the white gel pen. this was my first experiment with it & it was legitimately a complete game changer, because now i could slop on my inks as much as i wanted & go right back in with the gel pen & literally carve out the black lines to as crisp as i pleased while still preserving the motion & energy of the ink sketch. i noticed even with tons of layers of gel too there was no way to fully get rid of the ghost outline of my corrections, so at this stage i leaned into that quality even harder & changed from white paper to exclusively brown

at this point i wanted to showcase loud & clear to myself exactly what i was cleaning up, i LOVED how this looked. i even went a step further & got some really translucent red ink for a second brush pen (had to fill the cartridges with the red ink manually in the sink lol) so i could do an even sloppier red sketch underneath, half precise slop on black ink on top of it, clean it up with the gel, go back in with the black, forever and ever and ever

and like this was an absolute physical mess of material but it was beyond fun. id completely given up on anything being clean or correct, because i could always clean it & correct it & have a blast showcasing the journey of start to finish as preserved in the materials. i basically gave myself permission to like, be imperfect, treat inks like clay, & draw with complete abandon like a kid again

eventually utrecht stopped making the kind of brown paper i loved (these brown paper books were HEAVY DUTY & could take so much punishment, when i was done with a book id legit flip it over & start drawing on the backs of the pages) & then all the available material physically couldnt handle the amount of medium i was putting on my pages, like legit the paper itself was just ripping & dissolving lmao. so at this stage i got an ipad (i could never wrap my head around a tablet & not looking at my hand and the tool touching the artwork) & pivoted from trad to digital in like uhhhh 2018ish & just did the exact same techniques of slopping inks down, carving with the eraser, going back in with the inks, carving more with the eraser, and so on. and now since it was digital & i never had to worry about my paper literally melting underneath my brushes LOL i could just go forever on one thing

early attempts while learning the new medium in my fury road era

tail end of the SAD SACK roughs in like 2019ish (SAD SACK really was what got me locked in with my digital technique & how i wanted to attack it)

tail end of the SORTIE roughs from like 2021, at this stage i think my style got so fuckin crazy because i wasnt worried about my pages getting destroyed anymore so im like Violent with the ipad lmao, that & it got Really fast bcus since i wasnt bothering with correct anymore & had no medium-being-destroyed barrier i could just gunshot-speed get these down

and then most recently DE RERUM NATURA from like january of this year which i think showcases what im currently doing pretty accurately

this got long whoops lol POINT IS: i dont worry about being correct (because i can fix it later), i dont worry about being neat (because i can clean it later), and i skip the sketch stage entirely by slop-inking & eraser-carving interchangeably, which lets me fix and clean all i want while preserving the energy & action of the first marks. plus, going straight inks all the time i think trained my hand & eye to A. put down the marks i want correctly in the General Space of where i want them, and B. do it faster & faster lol

after all this my advice to you is this: swap to a new tool! try a brush, try paint, try a medium you have no control over but something that forces you to improvise and remember whats so fun in the first place about making a mess on your canvas of choice. remember that any mark you make, you can tweak, fix, carve, shove around, whatever. i think a lot of people get stuck in the rules they have set for themselves with art (i know i did!) and we tend to forget that there are no rules. try & remember that feeling of being little & just going wild on paper without any care whatsoever about being Right. go for it, because you can always tweak it - even inks arent permanent 🤓

[kozachenko]

Zanmu 100% has a very large bone collection. She seems like the type. I can perfectly imagine an interaction with someone, probably Eiki, (idk why but it fits) and she says (for some reason), "You must have a lot of skeletons in your closet" and Zanmu responds with, "Oh, how did you know about my bone collection?" and Eiki just stares for a few seconds and then says, "your what now?" and Zanmu responds by opening up a closet and low and behold, she has a bunch of them. Some human, some not. As Eiki stares in shock, horror, and confusion, Zanmu just starts rambling on about all the facts about bones she knows, where and how she finds them, and even starts sorting them into different piles as she speaks, "Of course, I organize them by species, age, condition, cause of death, and more specific categories," and when Eiki asks how many she has, Zanmu just says, "I kind of lost track after I reached 100" and poor Eiki faints.

{Artists Note}:

So I had a really neat pose idea for Zanmu and I had to draw it. I'm glad that I finally drew her again, because last time I did she looked waaaaaay too tense so this drawing serves to rectify that. Man was the actual process for the first bit of this rough, like, especially the eyes. So last time I drew Zanmu, I gave her some really nice eyeshadow, and I forgot about how big of a difference eyeshadow makes to how the eyes look, so I went through several different variations of them. Also, I'm glad that the expression turned out nicely, it's a nice break from the deadface I've been stuck with for a while now lol. Her one arm that isn't holding the skull kinda gave me some hardship because I had no idea how to show that it was resting on the rock, as the idea for the rest of the piece came to me waaaay after I did the sketch, so hey, just a thing to improve for next time. I played around with some collage elements for the trees, their foliage literally has a paper texture on it. I went for a more simplistic approach to the lighting, letting the colours more or less speak for themselves. The background also gave me a hard time, as I was getting stuck with how to make her pop out from it, and I think I found a good solution using overlay layers.

Clothes and fabrics are now my favourite things to render, it's just so satisfying to do. I also love adding that textured layer overtop of everything, it just makes everything come together y'know?

Also, another headcanon I have for her is that she's taller than Hisami, and Hisami is really tall so that means that Zanmu would be able to tower over literally everyone lol.

[greenlightbulbonawire]

Misfits (yeah like the Arcane song)

XLI.

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Summary: From the dark musty cell of Stillwater all the way to the very base of Firelights, but where to from there? Guess you'll just have to let fate lead you.

Author's note: I took a break... again... and I'm back now! But I will have to resort to posting once a week from now on, due to me not being able to write the chapters as fast as I am posting them anymore. Well anyway, have a great day!! xoxo Fourtieth chapter

Masterlist

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“I made a few sketches, I’ll show you, hang on.” You pushed yourself up off the ground and walked up to your desk quickly, swiping your sketchbook off of it and returning to Ekko, slipping onto the ground next to him again, scattering a few parts of the blown up board in the process. The book fell into his hands and you put the parts back onto the pile as the boy flipped through the pages of paper, looking at the drawing you made in the past instead of finding the sketches you told him about. “You can draw pretty good actually, I had no idea.” Your eyes tore away from fixing the pile and registered what you just put into his hands, you quickly grabbed it away from him, skimming to the page with the sketches and handing it back to him. “Don’t look at a different page than this one, please.” “Oh uh, I mean yeah, sure? Why though?”

Ekko gave you a questioning look, before returning to the drawn on paper page, looking over the sketch, his face displaying various emotions as he went through the thought process of making the sketch a reality. “There’s some stuff in there that I don’t want anyone to see.” “Okay, that’s fair.” He shrugged and closed the book with a snap, giving it back to you and then standing up. You took the sketchbook from him again and looked up at Ekko towering over you as his hand stretched towards you, offering to help you up as many times before. Without much hesitation, you accepted it and stood up too, facing him, waiting for the boy to say something and explain why you were standing now.

“Let’s get to work then.” He nodded to you and turned to the door to leave, and you went to take the sketchbook back to your table. Ekko waited for you outside of your room, and then headed towards the staircase, but starting to descend instead of going up, which surprised you. “We’re not going to your room?” “And how would something as big as that fit into my room exactly?” The boy turned his head to face you as you went down the stairs, following him a few paces behind, a smug expression painting his face, before he tripped and almost fell, catching the railing at the last second to stop himself. You laughed at him, waiting for him to regain his balance and continue walking and then answering him. “Karma’s a bitch huh?”

“Welcome to my… I actually don’t know what to call this room, uh, I make bigger things here basically.”

“Why did I have no idea a room like this was here?”

You asked and walked into the room after Ekko, taking in the many tools and almost finished projects, he really had a taste for mess huh. “Probably because you haven’t seen like eighty percent of the base yet.” “That… makes perfect sense actually.” You admitted, watching as the boy moved through the room, pulling out different parts and gathering them into a box. He mumbled something to himself and pulled the box towards a messy desk, probably the place where he worked on his inventions and stuff. “I’m missing some things here,” Ekko stated as he started to lay out the parts from the box on the desk and looked at you for a moment, quickly returning to what he was doing, before he spoke again.

“so I’ll write you a list and you’ll have to go get them, maybe take Heimerdinger with you, he’ll help.”

Metal bolts clattered as Ekko placed them onto the table, you made your way to him carefully, trying to avoid bumping into anything in the process. Ekko pulled out a piece of dirty paper from god knows where and took a pencil off the desk, scribbling down a few words, then he looked into the box again and added something to the list, repeating this a few times. You were watching with interest, before you realized you haven't answered him yet, you shook your head and blinked a few times.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Great, well here you go, that should be all I hope, and please don’t blow yourself up again okay?” The paper with the material list got swept off the table by the boys hand and he turned his attention to you, looking up from his chair, while handing you the piece of paper. “What, you’ll miss me?” You raised a brow and gave him a smug smile, swiftly taking the list from his hand, fixing your eyes on it and reading its contents.“Oh yeah very.” The boy chuckled softly as you read through the listed materials. “Who else will come and save me when I specifically told them not to?”

[astronyu]

Sketches and commentary on the Folly ref sheet for RAT's newest plush! (info below the cut vvv)

(note: RAT commissioned me to make the character ref sheet, which is NOT the plushie schematic that Makeship actually uses as reference to produce the plushie)

This is the first sketch we sent to Makeship!

I'm starting to add details to push Folly's identity a bit more and differentiate her more from RM (Rat Maid), i.e. neckline, nose, gloves, blush. Lots of curves! (And I also added two rats instead of one <3O~ <3O~)

At one point we considered giving her the eye design shown on the right (red thread embroidered around her eye) as a reference to her MC skin's glowing eyes, but we decided eye shadow was a better look. also it looks like sans undertale

This is the back! The Folly skin has a long pretty bow, but it's scrapped by the end because A. her hair obscures everything on her back and B. as we went along we increasingly afraid of the sheer mass of fabric building on this plushie.

Most of her palette is colorpicked from the original minecraft skin by Arathain (who also made RM!) but iirc we made the ears pinker and lighter. You can see their OG tweet featuring the Folly skin here!

Onto the dress design!

RAT wanted the Folly plush to feel like more than just a recolor, so he had me redesign her dress. I started off with an inspo board focused on elements we wanted to keep-- Folly's lighter palette, the middle slit of her dress, the off-shoulder straps, and the overall maid theme.

You'll notice that Folly's expressions here are kind of all over the place (I don't think she's ever looked that sympathetic in her life). I think I made these sketches before I finalized her face, where RAT requested some mixture of murderous intent with mischief, but in a subtle way. Later down the line the specific smirk Folly has actually gave the physical plushie a lot of trouble (faces do not scale easily on cone shaped snouts).

The first alternate dress designs!

RED: RAT (paraphrased), PURPLE: me ofc More refined sketches! As you can see here RAT's working me to the bone with all of his requests. It's okay though, b/c after I sent him the completed ref sheet I got to watch him turn on Makeship. (KIDDING, KIDDING)

Overall, I was looking for a dress that felt regal, beautiful, and unconventional, while still feeling like a maid dress. Wow, after physically typing that out I feel like face palming. "I need a dress for a GODDESS also a uniform good for housekeeping please" (???)

After feedback, I focused more on variations of the 2nd option.

You'll see at the last Folly, I combined the 2nd variation with the tie ribbon, the layered dress design, and long puffy sleeves. I decided to bring over the long puffy sleeves specifically because I hoped that they would give Folly a more interesting silhouette that of course contrasts with RM.

(To be fair, this contrast isn't very visible on the plushie itself but it is fun to draw.)

And finally, the second and last ref we sent to Makeship!

imo Makeship did an INCREDIBLE job translating the design to plushie!! I'm sure there's plenty of challenges Makeship's plushie makers have to deal with that we don't see, so I always specify that I'm only responsible for the initial drawing when people ask me if I "made" the plush.

One really delightful surprise were the 3d rats; we didn't think they were possible but they were (ilu makeship)!! You'll probably also notice that Folly's eyes look pretty different--- they were changed slightly in each step and ultimately ended up softer, which is interesting because I feel that it kind of mirrored how RAT's approach to Folly as a character changed in the months of the plushie's development (and up to her release!).

And that's all I have for my part of the plushie! I always love working with RAT on projects and plushies are a highlight. They're especially surreal to think about when we all used to joke about them before RAT really blew up.

ofc, the shill if you want to get her: Makeship Folly plush and RM's ref sheet if you're curious: Rat Maid plushie ref

i think the campaign ends about October 7th, 2023, but you and i are very likely to be in different time zones so if you're interested doublecheck with the site. if the date has long past then ig this is just a fun little time capsule for you, which can also be pretty cool :)

[bizkitsnuggets]

MEMORIES AND SKETCHES.

masterlist.

The teacher talked endlessly as [Y/N] drew small doodles of whale-sharks in her sketchbook mindlessly. She also drew two cigarette sticks purely because she has yet to find out Jotaro's favorite brand.

The girl of course, without realizing, drew a bluefin tuna. This time she didn't draw it just by itself. She added a person, a fisherman. The bluefin tuna was freshly caught and it reminded her of the first time she went on a fishing trip with her father.

She was seven years old at the time and it was late spring. That's usually the time where bluefin tunas become available in the sea of Japan. [Y/N] was the one who asked (forced) her father to take her on a fishing trip and he obviously had no choice but to oblige. He thought it'd be a good idea to show her just how bizarre the ocean world is.

So, there she was, in a boat with her father's crewmate. As they're doing all the work, [Y/N] sits on top of a barrel all cutely. It wasn't until a few moments later that one of her father's crewmates alerted them about some sort of big fish. The girl's father then ushered her to come see.

"Alright kiddo, don't get any closer. Just watch and learn." Her father told her before reeling his fishing rod into the water. Not long after, the rod started to wiggle, startling [Y/N] and her father. "This is it!" he shouted, his crewmate then took some sort of dart with a rope and when the fish was near the boat, he threw it. [Y/N]'s eyes widened as her dad pulled the fish onto the boat.

The fish was humongous, it was almost larger than her dad. "This is the fish they usually use in sushi, kid. It's called bluefin tuna." He extended his hand so the girl could take a better look at it. [Y/N] didn't know if it was the sun that made the fish look so majestic. Never in a million year would she expect herself to call a fish "majestic" but here she is. It was practically shining.

The girl could only look at it with her mouth open and her eyes wide. Her words were taken away from her and her muscles seemed to stop moving. It was the first time she'd seen a fish that big in real life. She would be lying if she said she wasn't a bit taken aback.

But after that, she never saw a bluefin tuna again. She'd only see it already sliced up and served as food whenever she went out to restaurants.

Well... not until one day, in her second year of Highschool, she had gone to the beach to take pictures of the sunset. She stood by the shore, holding her digital camera up and took a picture of the golden hues.

It was mesmerizing to say the least. Suddenly, she heard a flapping noise beside her. Her head turned to the sound, and to her surprise it was a stranded bluefin tuna. It was flipping around, struggling to get back in the water.

The girl backed up out of surprise. She didn't know what to do. She wanted to help, but she wasn't authorized for that and there was a possibility that she could end up hurting the fish. So, [Y/N] did what any sane person would do, she called to the fishermen that were nearby.

It didn't take long before they started running towards her. However, [Y/N] didn't know why, but she felt as if the fish was glowing. She didn't know if it was the radiant hues from the sun, but it was weirdly alluring.

Slowly, she put her hand up as the sound of the shutter camera went off. Suddenly, she felt the urge to look to her side. Again, she didn't know why. And there he was. The infamous troublemaker, Kujo Jotaro. He was a few feet away from her, looking at the sunset.

He was far away enough for him to not notice her but close enough that she could still make out his facial expression. His brows were furrowed, his face as if made of stone. He looked normal, he looked like he would every day at school. That same scowl, that same lidded eyes. But despite that, he looked remorseful.

Oh, after missing fifty days of attendance he's finally back. I wonder what happened.

That day was a core memory for [Y/N]. She never cared for Jotaro, she never spared him a glance. But that evening made her change her opinion on him a bit. He reminded her of the bluefin tuna which was stranded. Jotaro looked lost, stranded. Just like the fish.

"Ms. [L/N]? Ms. [L/N]?" The teacher called out to her. The girl looked up from her notebook, "yes sir?"

"What's so interesting about your notebook, Ms [L/N]? Mind sharing it to the class?" He interrogated her in a sharp tone.

"No sir, sorry."

[ferronickel]

Looking Glasses Development Art 1

Next ==>

This was the first bit of concept art I did for Looking Glasses. The scene where Ralsei is first confronted by the titan was incredibly clear in my head from the beginning, so when I sat down to start working on the comic, it was the first scene I started messing with. This drawing was mostly about experimenting with fonts and effects, so the art itself is pretty rough. My development process tends to start with visual design stuff, so I often spend hours looking at fonts before I get into sketching actual art. I'm really glad that I went in a different direction with this page in the final product, this is pretty visually cluttered.

Going over my old artwork has me thinking about the craft behind that sequence a bit, so I'm going to throw some more thoughts under the cut. It's a two for one.

Let's start with the final pages for this sequence, just to remind you how it turned out

You can see how that initial sketch got divided up into the second and third pages here. This served some practical purposes. To start, I realized I wanted you to be able to see Ralsei's face on the second page, to show how the loud titan voice is hurting him. But I wanted to keep Ralsei silhouetted in front of the titan eye for scale, so I pushed that into the next page.

Let's look at my initial sketches for this sequence.

You might notice some pretty major differences between these sketches and the finished product. Most notably, panel 3 on page 1 and all of page 2 are flipped. That's because I realized I had broken the 180 rule on page one, and it made a scene without any visual landmarks kind of confusing. Of course, I didn't realize this until super late in the process on that page. You can see this in the difference between my flats and the final base colors.

(I also fixed some weirdness at this stage, like Ralsei's head in the first panel was kinda wonky). But flipping this one panel also meant I had to flip the entire next page to keep continuity.

A few more details I think are kinda fun.

On the left, I had added a bunch of eyes to the smoke, a design detail I later dropped because I couldn't quite get it to look good in the colors, and I figured the titan eye showing up on his top worked well enough. He's also crying in this panel, which I also must of dropped.

On the right I really had to work through a bunch of expressions for him before settling on squeezing his eyes closed. At one point he was really angry!

But that didn't fit the vibe. Ralsei isn't exactly angry here, even if he is shouting on this page. I really liked him closing his eyes tightly though, it let me do this across the page-turn:

Which I thought was a cool way to transition out of one scene (and visual style) and into another. Now, is he waking up here because he wills himself to wake up, or because Susie healed him? I'll leave that one up to interpretation.

I'm also kind of referencing Issue 17 of The Wicked and The Divine here, where the POV character closes her eyes at the end of every scene to mark scene transitions (and when she's dissociating).

Anyway, that's the really long winded development of this sequence, from initial concept art to final product.

[lemonluvgirl]

Chapter 2: Peeta

I dug my hand back into the side pocket of my backpack, digging around more carefully than before, but my hand came up empty again. 

Where had that sketch gone? I know I put it in the side pocket of my bag before the bell rang. 

I pulled the pack up to my face, opened it to take a better look, and found nothing. Thinking that maybe I had put it in another pocket I started to empty my bag item by item, carefully checking in nooks and crannies and other places where the paper might have gotten stuck. 

After a fruitless and frustrating but thorough search, I set my sights on the only other possible explanation. 

“Hey did you go through my shit again?” I yelled as I looked over at Rye, who was practically glued to the screen in front of him, and not paying attention to his surroundings at all.  As my older brother, one of two that I had but he was the only one still living at home with me and our dad, Rye was the usual suspect whenever my stuff went missing. 

He took his eyes off whatever video game he was playing and looked over at me with a confused expression for a second before pulling away one side of his headphones from his left ear. 

“What?” He asked and I rolled my eyes as I repeated my question. 

“Haven’t touched your stuff today dickwad. Why did you lose a tampon or something?” He asked with a stupid little smirk that made me wanna pummel his face. 

“Oh fuck you, asshole,” I answered with no real bite, getting our routine unpleasantness out of the way so that I could interrogate him on the whereabouts of my missing sketch.

“Just tell me if you took my paper,” I ordered, letting my backpack drop and readying myself to get into a living room floor wrestling match to get the truth out of him. 

Rye was always up to no good. Playing pranks and stealing stuff and doing shit he thought was hilarious and never admitting any culpability unless he was forced to. I can count the number of times Dad had to bail him out with the principal and with the local PD on two hands during his last year of high school. After graduating he mellowed out somewhat but he could still be a real dickhead whenever he felt like it. 

 Rye rolled his eyes, threw me the finger, and put his headphone back on, ignoring me completely. 

I let out a disgruntled growl and stalked over to where he was sitting in his gamer chair, frantically mashing buttons and cussing at whoever was shooting at him in the game. 

Before he could react to my presence behind him I wrapped my forearm around his neck and put him in a loose, choke hold. The pressure I was putting on him was not enough to restrict his air flow, but just enough to get his attention. He immediately started talking. 

“I didn’t touch your damn papers! Get over yourself shit stain, you’re going to make me lose the match!” He shouted as he tried to wiggle out of my hold while trying to keep his grip on his controller in order to keep playing. 

“You swear?” I asked, tightening my grip slightly. He gasped a little. 

“Yes! Fuck, get off Peeta!” He said, the volume of his voice rising in irritation. 

I let him go and backed off, but someone had already shot him and his screen faded to black before returning to the loading menu. 

“Thanks a lot!” He said, throwing aside his controller in disgust and turning around to face me. 

“Sorry,” I said with a shrug. 

“What the hell is so important about these papers anyway? Was it more of your artistic crap? More hills and trees and little drops of rain on leaves? No. You wouldn’t get worked up over that. I know. I bet it was fap material for your secret spank bank collection.” He joked, his smile morphing into a lecherous little grin.

I turned away from him so he wouldn’t see my face. I had already made too big a deal out of this. I didn’t want him to ask any more questions. They were beginning to hit too close to home. I began putting the scattered contents of my backpack back inside it so I could keep my hands busy. 

“I already told you. I don’t draw porn.” I said with a tired sigh. It was the truth. I drew still life mainly. Windows, buildings, and nature scenes. Sometimes faces, but that was it. I didn’t have the personal experience needed to draw more erotic subject matter and he knew that. 

“Waste of talent if you ask me. If I could draw like you I’d be drawing tits all day long.” Rye said wistfully. 

I turned around and gave him an exasperated look. 

“Yet, another reason why you need to get a life, Rye,” I said before zipping up my bag and making to leave. 

“Yeah, ok. But you need to get laid, little brother. 17 is too old to still be carrying around your V-card. So stop playing with your paints and pencils and go out tonight with the team. I know Cato’s throwing his start of the school year bash tonight.” 

“Yeah, so?” I huffed, annoyed and embarrassed that he brought up the topic of my virginity. It’s none of his business. But ever since mom left and Wheat went off to college Rye goes through these random bouts of trying to act like an involved big brother. It would be alright if he actually could give some decent advice. But his wisdom only extends as far as running with the popular crowd, winning matches, and sleeping with girls.

“So, you’re on the wrestling team now. Girls dig that. If you play your cards right you could score big.” He says and it's so predictably cliche that I don’t even have the energy to roll my eyes at him. 

“It’s a freaking Monday night, Rye. Who parties on a Monday?” I argued, hoping he’ll drop the subject. 

“Mellark brothers do, and as the last Mellark to grace the halls of Panem High you have to uphold the time-honored tradition of going out with your team and drinking everyone else under the table at the back-to-school bash.” Says Rye with an excited gleam in his eye. 

“What? No.” I protested, but Rye was already up and he had that look on his face. The one that said-I’m going to do something nice for Peeta. Which wouldn’t be so bad except it's always the same thing with Rye. He tries to get me to do stuff I don’t have any interest in, but because it's something he likes, so in his mind that should mean I will automatically like it too. He has a terrible track record with this. I think I’ve only liked 10% of the things he’s gotten me to try. 

“Oh, you’re going to the party bro, even if I have to drive you myself,” Rye stated gripping me by the shoulder and practically frog-marching me out of the living room. 

All my protests from there on out go unheard. 

.

.

.

.

We pull up to a big, overdone house in Victor’s Circle 20 minutes later. There are cars lined up all along the driveway, and all the lights are on inside despite it being past 10:30 pm. Rye parks on the curb and cuts the engine before glancing over at me. 

“Look, I know this isn’t your usual scene Peeta, but hear me out.” He pauses and when I remain silent, he continues. “High school is your last chance to be a kid.  When it's all over it's all about getting a job, dealing with your asshole bosses or professors, and becoming a responsible adult. Death and taxes shit.” 

“Wheat says he likes college.” I point out. 

“Wheat studies his ass off every night trying to maintain his 4.0 gpa to keep his scholarship. He doesn’t have time for keggers or anything fun. And you know after the divorce Dad doesn’t have the money to help pay his tuition anymore. He’s gotta make it on his own. That’s why he’s got such a stick up his ass most of the time.” 

“You’re only saying that because he keeps telling you to take classes at the community college whenever he comes home for break.” 

Rye scoffs, and then he twists in his seat to face me. 

“Peeta, use that fucking big brain of yours for a second. With Wheat away, you still in high school and the bakery barely making it, who’s going to help Dad if I cut back on my hours at the bakery to go to college?” 

I thought about it. Dad only paid Rye minimum wage. I had assumed that it was because Rye had a careless attitude and only put in minimum effort but hearing Rye tell it, it was because Dad couldn’t afford to hire anyone else. Not just that but he couldn’t afford to send Rye to college without the help of a scholarship like Wheaton had gotten. 

How unfair.

“I would. I’ll help out at the bakery. Dad doesn’t even have to pay me.” I told Rye. 

My older brother smiled at me. 

“I appreciate the sentiment but you’re still in school. And it’s not your responsibility to keep this family afloat. Yet. That’s what me, Wheat, and Dad are for.” 

“Rye, you should be able to get your degree if you want to,” I told him adamantly. 

“You know me and school don’t mix well. And that’s not the point. The point is, everyone, is doing their part to keep this family afloat. You gotta do yours. Wheat’s the brain. I’m the troublemaker. And you’re the perfect son. You’re as smart as Wheat, and as good as me at sports. You’re gonna get an athletic or academic scholarship, no doubt about it. But you’re wound up so tight Peeta, if you don’t let loose a little you’re gonna burn out. So please, do everyone a favor and just be a kid. Real life is coming soon enough. This is your last chance to cut loose before you have to buckle down for SATs, college applications, and all that bullshit.” 

I’m so caught off guard that for a minute I don’t even know what to say. 

“Is this your way of trying to live vicariously through me?” I question him curiously. 

“Get your head outta your ass, Peeta.” He snaps back quickly. 

“No, seriously. It sounds like you want to relive these experiences through me. Like you want me to follow in your footsteps or something,” 

“Peeta, you blind little turd. It’s not about you repeating my high school experience, or making the same mistakes I did. It’s about you making your own. Carving your own path. And hey, maybe your path doesn’t include beer and babes as far as the eye can see. But you won’t know until you fucking try. All I want is for you to get out there and live a little. Find out who you wanna be these last two years of school and just be that guy. You might surprise yourself and have a little fun.” 

A part of me wanted to shake my head and demand he drive me home, but another part of me, the bigger part couldn't help but hear the sincerity in his voice. My brother may not have been the most caring, or the most considerate person in the world but at least he could be honest when he felt like it. 

“Yeah, yeah. Ok. Fine, I’ll go to the party.” I said, unbuckling my seatbelt.

[a-m-pyra]

First Burn: Ch2 Cutouts (American McGee's Alice/Lies of P)

A man came to the orphanage. He was of average height — slightly shorter than P. He was elegantly dressed, and always wore a dark brown top hat, with which he greeted Mrs. Sharpe and Alice when she arrived in the morning.

Women also came to the orphanage — usually women. Sometimes several in one day. They were always crying and shaking. Nan Sharpe led them straight to the second floor and hurried to prepare tea.

When Alice was visiting, he saw her clench her hands into fists and her face tense. She also always slightly changed the way she sat — her thighs clenched tighter and her whole body seemed stiffer.

Today was similar. P was finishing his latest sketch, sitting at the dining room table, when the door opened and a tearful woman stood there, wrapping her arms around herself and clutching the fabric of her gray dress.

P decided to get up and approach the woman. She looked scared, shivering, although she didn't seem to be cold — because that was usually the reaction he encountered at that time.

“Do you need help?”

She nodded.

“Mrs. Seymour is on the second floor, I'll take you there.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mrs. Sharpe nodding her head to say that she would make tea in a moment and that he should not worry.

He placed his hand on the woman's back and led her to the second floor, to Mrs. Seymour's office.

Seymour sat at her desk, organizing her paperwork and muttering to herself about how forgetful she was. However, when P and the woman entered, she immediately raised her head to look at them. Her expression turned from irritation to sympathy. She walked up to them and, nodding, asked them politely to leave the office, and then they would start their session.

P just nodded. He went back downstairs, noticing Otto sitting at the table, staring at his sketchbook, as if he was tempted to open it and hesitant at the same time.

P went to the table and sat down, opening the sketchbook and shielding the sketch from Otto, who was silent as a grave, trying to see something — and being silent as a grave was not something that was taken for granted in Otto's case; he usually talked and hummed a lot, sometimes making P suddenly feel like he wanted to lock himself away somewhere where Otto wouldn't find him, and he could draw in peace.

Another time, unimaginable chaos reigned in his head — and he couldn't even put any of his thoughts into drawings, because they were rushing like galloping horses. Then Otto's chatter about nothing was beneficial — he could then focus on one thought — encoding what Otto was saying; even if it was stupidity he read in the newspaper.

Now, however, he counted on Otto to remain mostly silent, as his thoughts were flowing calmly — although they had changed their course slightly, wondering what had happened to the woman who needed help.

P finished the sketch and immediately moved on to the next one, as if unconsciously sketching the outline of the head and rounded shoulders first. Big eyes, looking straight at him, and a wide smile.

Alice showed up this morning in a great mood. She greeted the children and Alex, ruffling Otto's hair as she handed him a small box. Then she looked over her shoulder towards the living room.

He was already looking at her then. She smiled widely at him, and P smiled back; her smile brightened this cloudy day like the first spring sun after months of winter. Her face no longer looked like a porcelain doll, especially when she was slightly flushed from the cold outside and put on that overjoyed expression.

P smiled secretly, glad that the crying, shaking and terrified woman was covered by the image of happy Alice.

Sad people made him sad. Alice's cheerful presence made him feel a pleasant warmth throughout his body and a strange feeling in his chest.

“Well… I see our Alice is on your mind.”

P looked at Otto and rolled his eyes.

“Do not be funny.”

“I try, but that's my nature; be funny. Oh, and look.” He parted his hair to the left and tucked it behind his ear so P could see the earring with a dangling golden moon. “I got it from Alice because she doesn't wear gold.”

Just like Mrs. Seymour, he thought, smiling slightly.

“I like it.”

“You won't look at me weird and tell me to, you know, dress like a man?”

P looked at him not seriously.

“I don't understand.”

“It's just that my peers and those a little older, and the oldest ones, usually look at me strangely when I wear jewelry.”

P tilted his head slightly.

“I have nothing to do with it.”

“That's good. That's nice.” He pursed his lips, then smiled stupidly. “So what? Alice confused you?”

“No.”

“Yes,” Gemini, who had been in the nearby lamp the whole time, spoke up.

“I just said that I liked the way she looks. She's objectively pretty. Besides, I hardly know her.” He took a breath. “And anyway, I'm here to put myself together, not look for love.”

“You can combine business with pleasure.” Otto waggled his eyebrows, smiling stupidly. “Tomorrow afternoon it's supposed to be dry, warm and nice weather, you'll go to Hyde Park and go for a walk. Alice will definitely appreciate it.”

“You are just…” He stood up and took the sketchbook under his arm.

“What?” Otto asked, and P went up the stairs without any answer, completely ignoring Gemini, who asked him to come back and take him with him.

P instead locked himself in the room and sat on the bed, combing his hair with his fingers.

Exactly. What? P was unable to describe exactly what they were like. The feeling he felt was somewhat like anger, but it wasn't quite the right thing to say — and neither Gemini nor Otto sounded malicious for him to put it that way.

They wanted to help, he guessed. He just didn't really want that kind of help.

He looked at the sketchbook that was lying on the bedside table. He took it back in his hands and opened it to the page where he had drawn a rough sketch of Alice.

He smiled slightly and sat on the floor, spreading his sketchbook in front of him and reaching for a pencil. The door opened, but he didn't hear Otto's voice, or Mrs. Seymour's, not even one of the children's voices. Instead, he heard claws tapping on the floor and then saw Cormac lie down next to him.

This intimidating giant resembled Spring in some ways — except that he was at least six times heavier and larger than a cat. However, his personality was similar to Spring's — maybe he was even more delicate than her, and he seemed to know how big and heavy he was. He was always gentle with the children, even when they fed him under the table — which they did more often than Mrs. Seymour would like to know — he caught the food so as not to hurt the children.

He also treated him and Otto like little children. He never jumped, never tried to catch with his teeth, and usually even had trouble barking — instead, he hooted when Otto wanted him to speak.

Cormac preferred to lie next to him and let his ears be scratched — and most of all, to sleep, and sleeping was his favorite thing to do, apart from staring adoringly at Alice and Mrs. Seymour.

Mrs. Seymour trained — although she preferred the term raised — Cormac into a dog perfect for working with lost children. With lost people.

P unconsciously pursed his lips.

Puppets.

When he glanced sideways again at Cormac's head resting on his thigh, he saw the dog watching him intently and whining softly.

“I'm fine, Cormac.”

But he got up and sniffed his cheek, then nudged it lightly with his nose.

“Really.”

The dog, however, didn't seem to believe him. He licked his cheek, making him giggle softly.

“There, now, thank you.”

There was a quiet knock on the door, and after a moment Mrs. Seymour emerged from behind the door with a broad smile.

“There you are, Cormac. I've been looking for you everywhere.”

Cormac walked over to Mrs. Seymour and sat down at her side, gaping as she grabbed his cheeks and began to rub them gently.

Cormac seemed to enjoy this type of caress. But Cormac liked all the caresses.

“Come on, P. It's time for your session,” she said, giving him a wide smile.

He nodded and stood up, taking his sketchbook with him.

He and Cormac entered the office. P sat on the chaise longue and Mrs. Seymour in the armchair, turning the hourglass.

“How are you feeling, P?”

He pursed his lips and glanced at Cormac, who sat next to Mrs. Seymour — her personal assistant, he thought.

“Calm.”

Today he was unusually clear of confusion. Sketching seemed to pay off.

“Do you still have racing thoughts?”

“A little less often. But they still happen.”

“I think it's only a matter of time until they stop completely.”

He hoped so.

He saw Mrs. Seymour started looking at one place for a moment. She froze in silence, returning to reality after a moment. She crossed her legs and started playing with her many rings.

“Okay, let's talk about what's on your mind, hmm?”

P rubbed his thigh and handed Mrs. Seymour his sketchbook.

He felt a strange tension in his chest; and even repeating in his head that Mrs. Seymour couldn't judge him didn't help alleviate the tension.

“Well, well, what a progress.”

P clasped his fingers and squeezed them tightly.

“I observe a lot. And I'm trying.”

“I'm impressed.”

She covered her mouth with her hand and rested her elbow on the armrest. She looked at the drawings and her face seemed to change with each one.

“Who are you?”

He saw her raise an eyebrow. He felt stupid and nasty at the same time.

“Is it about the drawing?”

“Mhm. I wonder what you meant by that inscription.”

P tucked his legs under him; Gemini would definitely not be happy about this, he would definitely say that it is inappropriate to sit like that next to an older lady. Mrs. Seymour, however, seemed unfazed by this — and it seemed that, were it not for the dress she was wearing, she would have willingly sat in such a position herself.

“When I was in the Krat, fighting the puppets…” He took a breath. “It turns out that what everyone calls Ergo are actually human souls; that's why some puppets were able to rebel, create their own ego, feelings…”

“You are one of those puppets.”

P felt everything within him tighten.

“Geppetto… I mean, my father, he had a son, Carlo, who studied at a boarding school for boys. He died of petrification disease…”

“And his Ergo drives you.”

He tried to extend this statement somehow. Mrs. Seymour, however, preferred specifics. She knew what he was getting at and didn't want to bloviate.

P was glad she was doing it anyway.

“I don't know who I am anymore. My father wanted me to be a good boy. Who didn't murder people, who didn't lie… Who was a good puppet. But I… I didn't want to murder them, that's true. But I wanted to lie. I wanted to tell this woman that the puppet she thought was a child was beautiful, to cheer her up, I wanted the man to think that his puppet wife loved him…”

“You wanted people to feel just a little bit of happiness.”

P nodded.

“I didn't act like Carlo. But father…”

“How long has Carlo been at this school?”

“I don't know. But he didn't want to see his father. He didn't care about him at all when Krat was created.”

“I have a theory.”

She turned out the page to look at the next drawing.

“Think about it this way. Geppetto had no idea what Carlo was really like. He had some strange image of him in his head. He may have loved him, that is a possibility, but it is not said that he knew him. You have his life energy within you, P. What if you actually act like Carlo? The real one, not distorted by the imagination of Geppetto, who preferred to build a great city of puppets instead of raising a son.”

“I don't feel like Carlo.”

“And you don't have to. You are P. A separate organism. A different brain, only with certain mechanisms that every healthy person has.”

“Do you think I would do it anyway?”

“I think so. You can filter what Carlo was like through your own experience, friendships, the people around you, and your own ego. And that's how you are yourself; Pinocchio alias P. This is how we all come into being. We learn certain values ​​and behaviors in our family homes, among society and friends, and then we draw our own conclusions and filter the whole thing through our worldview; it is the natural order of being a human living in society.”

She leaned towards him and placed her hand on his.

“You have every right to feel lost, bimbo. I'm here to help you understand these disagreements. Like the problem of your name when you had no idea what to answer me.”

“Nobody ever asked me what I wanted to be called.”

“And yet you were always a friend to those closest to you. It's also some form of name. Function held. No matter what happens, you were and are a friend to your loved ones.”

He smiled slightly to himself, then froze when he saw that Mrs. Seymour had stopped at the sketch, unfinished anyway, of Alice.

“Alice?” She raised an eyebrow.

“I just… wanted to draw her. She's nice to me. Understanding. And so…” He clenched his hand. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that.”

“No, no. It’s all right. I think she will like it if you would like to give it to her.” She handed him back the sketchbook and clasped her hands together. “Surrounding yourself with the right people during recovery is important, and Alice went through this herself. I think you two becoming friends will be good for both of you.”

“So you wouldn't mind if I invited Alice for a walk around Hyde Park?”

He saw Mrs. Seymour's eyes sparkle in an unusual way.

“I wouldn't mind at all.”

The sand in the hourglass has settled. P was able to get up and leave the office. But before he closed the door behind him, he looked at Mrs. Seymour writing something in her notebook.

“Mrs. Seymour?”

She looked at him questioningly.

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome, bimbo. That's my role.”

P left the office and, putting the sketchbook on the desk in the room, went down to the first floor, where he heard the sound of cutting paper and humming. He saw the children, Otto and Alice, sitting at a table with colored paper. They were cutting out something, all sorts of shapes.

The children showed their works to Gemini. From undefined shapes cut out in folded paper, amazing patterns emerged — grain, storks, little people.

“Oh! P has come!” Abigail exclaimed. “Look, we're making cutouts!”

“What are they for?” he asked, sitting at the head of the table, near Alice.

“To decorate the orphanage, of course! Next week is the Sabbath!” Charlie announced

Sabbath.

P thought it was like all those books. The witches fly to Bald Mountain and dance around the bonfire. There was no question of cutouts.

There was no way they were celebrated anywhere other than in books.

“Nan will be baking a sunflower cake. Alex asked me to organize the decorations. She's going to take care of the gift basket and a few other things herself,” Alice was saying, and P fought the urge to brush a strand of hair out of her face.

“I don’t understand…”

“We didn't understand either. But it's cool! You'll see, P, you'll like it,” Dodo said, and Alice handed him a pair of scissors and a sheet of orange paper with flower petals embedded in it.

“Try it yourself.”

P hesitated for a moment, then grabbed the scissors, folded the paper, and started cutting.

Abigail and Angela looked at him, noticing that he had first cut out a shape that would look like a heart when unfolded. Then he kept cutting, watching Alice cut the ears of grain. When he finished, he showed her the result.

She smiled as she saw the sunset and the ears of grain in her heart.

“Oh my, you've got a talent, P.”

He looked away, smiling.

“Could…could we talk somewhere private?”

She agreed. They hid in the living room, away from the prying ears and eyes of the children and Otto; and waited for what P wanted to tell her.

“Would you like to…” he trailed off, pursing his lips. “Would you like to take a walk in Hyde Park with me?”

“To get to know each other better?”

“Yes… Yes! Tomorrow afternoon. If, of course, you have time.”

She smiled at him.

“With pleasure.”

A relieved smile appeared on P's face. For some reason, he really wanted Alice to agree to accompany him.

He walked her back to the table. They sat down and started making cutouts again. For once, he caught himself looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

And Alice was looking at him.