#I refuse to use it in my workflows

[the-storm-chaser]

//I don't want to add this rule, but this is moreso to cover all bases. I've had to include this in all my art ToS on Vgen, so it's going here as well

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I will unfollow/block if I catch you using AI in your writing/art/icons. My stance is that Generative AI has no place in any creative space and I have zero tolerance in anyone using it.  We are here to be creative. Using Gen AI defeats the purpose of that.

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If you don't agree, there is an unfollow button right there. 👋

[qblester]

// canva my prized horse i have just realized they have a lightweight video editor. i apologize in advance for what i am making. with these powers. imagine my powers of collage autism mixed with the fact i have aphantasia that effects makes me entirely blind minds eye wise except for motion. and how i am capable of stitching audio together.

[thenamesblurrito]

🫠

[pewcat2]

My favourite part about switching from photoshop to corel painter essentials is how the official tutorials I get when I look up "how to do x" reference buttons and windows that just don't fucking exist

[recareels]

⋆₊˚⊹♡ sunday + grinding on his fingers while he works!

character: sunday warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, fem reader, extreme teasing, dom/sub power dynamics, pet names (darling, angel, sweetheart), tiny bit of degradation (needy slut), toxic relationship (sunday is a lil mean/controlling/overbearing), taps into sunday’s god complex  words: 1.4k

Thinking about Sunday’s fingers; long, slim, warmed by the gloves, his heat radiating off the thin material. Thinking about not even riding them, but humping them, using them while he deals with something far more important. He won’t put them inside of you, refuses to even take off his gloves as he wedges a hand between your thighs, claiming that this is more than enough to make you cum, sweetheart and he knows you can do it, he knows you can get off from just this. 

Because you’re such a needy little slut for him, aren’t you? Pathetic and acquiescent and willing to take whatever the fuck he’ll give you, even if it’s merely the very tips of his fingers, just scarcely brushing your throbbing clit. 

It’s up to you to do all the work—you’re the one who wanted it, after all; you’re the one who couldn’t sit proper and patient and wait for him to finish with his tasks and duties, too eager and desperate for the tiniest piece of him to stand it—and he declines to put in any effort at all, simply keeping his fingers still and stiff, a hairs width from your cunt. 

As such, it’s your responsibility to make yourself feel good.

He barely pays you a shred of attention throughout the entire tedious process, gaze prim and focused on the documents spread neatly across his desktop, his free hand leafing through papers and jotting down notes. 

But despite his cool, calm, seemingly unaffected demeanour, you know better. 

Because you can see it; his cock, hard and huge and straining against white trousers, just begging for relief. You can hear it; those gentle, almost imperceptible hitches in his breath—a subtle response to your own sweet little noises, whiny little mewls and airy little moans, sounds that melt in the heat of your mouth, sugared frustration on your tongue.  

Every brush of your clit against his fingers pushes another one from your pouty lips, features pinched and tight with concentration, muscles coiled and tense as they work and flex, desperate to achieve your goal. 

Yet despite what Sunday had claimed, it truly isn’t enough, each soft swipe of his fingers only working to fuel the fire roiling in your belly, spritzing kerosene on the flames but never fostering an explosion. 

“S’not enough, Sir,” you whimper after nearly an hour of this routine, a heavy ache beginning to settle deep within your flesh, 

“It’s not enough,” he corrects you, not sparing you a glance. “And I assure you it is, darling. Come, now, be a good girl for me, and show me that you can cum from just my fingertips.” 

“I can’t, I can’t,” you hiccup, lids squeezing shut as tears nip at your vision, aggravation budding at the corners of your eyes. “I need more!”

“Don’t get greedy, now,” he chastises, an implicit warning woven into the sentence. “You’ve already taken one of my hands away, and considerably slowed down my productivity, interrupting my workflow with your neediness. Isn’t that enough?” 

A flash of guilt sears through your stomach, bitter and sharp, and you lip juts out even further,  puckering your chin. 

He’s right—You know he’s right. He’s already making a sacrifice for you by just giving you this—time is money, time is power, time is control, and you’re eating up a substantial amount with your disgraceful desire. How much more selfish could you possibly be? 

“M’sorry, Master,” you slur out, eyes shut tightly enough to crinkle your lids as you attempt to scrape together the tatters of your concentration. “I’m sorry.” 

Sunday says nothing, but the corner of his mouth twitches, curls upward with something sick and sadistic, thick authority cracking in the atmosphere around him. 

With renewed resolve, your hips begin to swivel again, grinding your swollen clit against sheathed fingers. His fingertips flutter softly, just teasing, and your movements speed up, rocking into his feathery touch, the motion just shy of satisfying. 

Something similar to vexation chokes in your throat; a half-stifled groan smothered by your determination to be good, to obey. 

You will not complain again. 

The quick, light drumming of his fingers against your clit ceases a mere moment before your pleasure crests—it’s a curse, how proficiently he knows your body, how perfectly he can decode those precious little gasps, slipping unwittingly from your lips and tinged with exasperation, and those pathetic little ruts, pelvis stuttering as it chases his touch, stomach muscles coiled and clenched. 

He can read you so well, too well, almost as if he made you himself, took blood and bone between his palms and molded it into flesh, into his personal little angel—he is your creator, and you worship him flawlessly. 

It’s obscene, just how wet you are, copious amounts of arousal soaking through the cotton of his gloves to prune his fingers, turning the material slippery, puffy clit gliding over it with fluid ease.

It’s embarrassing, just how wet you are, thick dribbles of slick streaming down Sunday’s drenched digits to collect in little pools on the webs between his knuckles. It’s overflowing, leaking onto his palm slow and steady to seep into the fabric, now stained with evidence of your desire clinging to his hand. 

You’re saturated in sweat by the time you finally manage to orgasm, thin linen of your dress plastered to your form, contouring every dip and curve of your body, outlining every heave of your chest. A garland of tiny beads is strung along your hairline and collarbone, glistening dewdrops streaming down your cheeks and neck and leaving pretty shimmering trails of damp salt in their wake. 

Strands of matted hair stick to your temples, your thighs still tensing around Sunday’s now rigid hand, hips continuing to gyrate in sloppy little circles as you chase residual sparks of pleasure, quick jolts of overstimulation rippling your flesh. 

But despite the dull, dense ache in your muscles, heavy with exhaustion and filled with sand, and the prodigal sparks of pain-dyed ecstasy, pushing sharp hisses through the gaps of your clenched teeth with each bout through your blood, you just can’t seem to stop.

“Th-Thank you, Sunday, Sir, thank you, thank you,” you’re babbling out in hiccups, words hitching in time with the motions of your hips. 

So polite, his sweet little seraph, so devoted to making your gratitude known—it is, in essence, only right to thank your god after he grants you a tiny piece of heaven, a single taste of bliss, Sunday knows. And your reverence will not go unrewarded. 

Because your reverence far exceeds great respect and high regard; your reverence bleeds into veneration, obsession, addiction. Your love knows no bounds. 

Your love is voracious in its worship, devouring any morsel of attention or affection he grants you and being grateful for it—even something as small and insignificant as a fingertip. 

It’s fucking exhilarating to experience such power, and it sends a heady shot of rhapsody straight to his brain, dazing him and infusing his blood. He can feel it oozing out of every pore, clinging to his form like a protective shield, reinvigorating his hegemony and reaffirming his authority.

Yearning against his pants, his cock twitches, the stitches threaded across the groin stretched taut with how hard he is. 

His hand is doused in you—your cum and your sweat and your arousal—and he pulls it free from your flexing thighs to examine it, holding it up in front of his face and turning it; first this way, then that, leisurely admiring the way every inch of his glove gleams in the diffused sun spilling past the stained glass. Sheathed in you, it almost looks like a shimmery satin.

“Such a mess,” he grits out, the words wispy and ragged. “Such a pretty mess you made for me.” 

A pair of gloved fingers tap together in a scissor-like motion, slow and controlled, pupils blown wide with awe as he watches the slick material stick to itself, glimmering in the setting sunlight and separating with minimal effort, strings of your cum strung between the appendages, webby, quivering slightly. 

You’ve since slumped against him, face nearly buried in his bicep as he appreciates the gift you’ve given him. Your breath is hot and humid against his neck, panted out through parted lips in uneven little huffs and stammered by soft whines.

“Rest, angel,” he murmurs, cheek laid against your head after he’s peeled the soiled glove from his skin and stashed it away in a desk drawer for safe keeping. “You did well.”

He knew you would. A god is never wrong, after all.

[mochidoie]

CO-

kim doyoung x reader wc - 8.7k genre - very slow burn, frenemy to lovers (light banter), coworkers!au, roomates!au warnings - a small kiss scene

You and Doyoung coexist in two specific ways: cohabitation and as coworkers. However, your friendship, if you can call it that, is far from besties and more on being cordial with one another. Nonetheless, in this dreary corporate world, he is the only one who just gets you and despite his coldness, he feels the same about you.

Doyoung annoyingly types on his keyboard in the cubicle next to you, completely disrupting your concentration and general workflow. Groaning, you hope that it was enough to signify how irritated you were. However, instead of the obnoxious typing coming to a halt, it intensifies tenfold and catches the attention of everyone else who sits on this floor.

Embarrassment washes over your body as you forcibly stand up and peer over the short wall that divides both of your desks. “Knock it off.” You gently smack the back of Doyoung’s head and he winces forward, looking up at you immediately with a glare.

“I’m seriously going to report you to HR one day.” He whispers, his threat just barely sounds legitimate. Doyoung is the greatest at bluffing and empty threats. 

“Well today won’t be the day. You’re typing so loud that it could be a noise complaint.” Rolling your eyes, you drop back down into your seat. Smoothly swiveling your chair back to the intimidating project blown full screen on your monitor, you dread every minute of being here. Your day is full of reports, documentations, and boring project meetings. 

You’ll have small talk about the weather in the break room over some watered down coffee made by a machine and happy hours on random days of the week at the nearby upscale restaurant.

You’ll run into someone from another department on the elevators and feel awkward for several floors until one of you finally gets out. Hiding in the bathroom is the only escape from the depressing gray carpet and fluorescent indoor lighting. 

“You could make this a more enjoyable workplace if you didn’t sigh every three minutes.” Doyoung walks around to your cubicle, crossing his arms like the prick he always is.

“I’m sighing because you keep typing for all of the world to hear you.” You turn in your chair, facing him once again with your lips in a line. “Get out of my space.”

“I’m not in your space.” You watch as he slyly backs up from the wall, the tips of his shoes barely skimming the invisible line that crosses into your cubicle. “What is the bad mood for today?” Doyoung raises an eyebrow.

You despise when someone points out your attitude, it just feels completely unnecessary to bring up in conversation. However, you are normally less mean to him and Doyoung was a sensitive individual. “Rough start this morning, my bread got jammed in the toaster and flat tire on my way to work.”

“This is why I tell you to use the oven and to carpool with me. The carbon footprint we could minimize by just using one car is astronomical.” He shoves his hands into his pressed pants pockets, “I guess this is why I didn’t see your car in the lot this morning.”

“It’s in the shop. I’m out of a car for about two weeks because they found something wrong with the engine or something.” 

“Just your luck.”

You groan, “are you just going to nag and pity me, or are you going to offer me a ride home?” 

Doyoung puts his hands up in the air, as he often speaks with his hands. “You’re always welcome to ride with me. You just normally refuse.” 

“Yeah, because it looks weird if we got into the same car together.” 

He shrugs, “people already know we live together. What’s the big deal about it?”

“It’ll look like we’re … you know… Together.” You keep your voice down to a whisper, afraid for any nosy ears listening into business they aren’t a part of. Doyoung nearly throws himself forward laughing at your shifty eyes and your sheepish statement.

“Seriously? I think people can tell we’re far from ever being together.” Ouch. Not that you had any romantic interest in this vile man, but it was a bigger blow to your ego if anything.

It’s also the way Doyoung says it. It’s pure mockery, a joke that you even though there was a slim chance at the consideration of you two being together. 

You shrug him off, ignoring how snobby he is being. “People make rumors. Someone who isn’t close to us can see me getting into your car and get the wrong idea.” Turning around, Doyoung takes the signal that he probably pissed you off more than he intended to.

He sighs and walks up behind your chair. Placing two hands on your shoulders, you slightly flinch at the sudden physical contact. Doyoung leans down to whisper gently into your ear, “let them think what they want.” It sends a shiver down your spine and you don’t have a snarky comment to say back to him.

The sound of his shuffling disappears as he returns back to his side and resumes his typing. You aren’t excited to tackle the task in front of you, if anything, you wish Doyoung annoyed you for a bit longer.

The suffocating dullness of the office wrings any ounce of creativity out of you. You’re like a wet towel that was left too long out in the sun and now you’re all dry and crunchy. 

A swoosh notification catches your eye, a new email from your manager in your inbox for you to worry about. Letting out another sigh of the day, you’re wondering what minuscule thing she needs now. The subject line already has you rolling your eyes and did you really want to open it? Not really. 

FROM PATRICIA A.

HALLOWEEN CELEBRATION: HH AT 127 BAR AND RESTAURANT

Hello Team,

I hope you’re all having a productive day so far. Our VPs have organized a company happy hour for all to attend. Please refer to the infographic attached to this email for information in regards to the Halloween happy hour event that is being held next week at the 127 Bar and Restaurant. 

RSVP through here by the EOD on Friday. Your attendance is highly encouraged as this will be a chance for everyone to network and chat with our VPs. Appropriate Halloween costumes are mandatory for attendance to be considered. Hope to see you all there. 

Best, Patricia A. Regional Manager 

“Costumes, are you fucking kidding me?” You hear Doyoung over your wall, followed by a ferocious clicking noise. 

“Don’t worry, Kim. You won’t need one, you’re already scary looking as is.” Jumping up, you place your elbows on the counter of his wall and peer over him. Doyoung rolls his eyes and stands to level the eye contact.

“You might want to get one, don’t want our VPs to get too scared seeing your face.” His eyebrow raises as he watches your face contour in disgust. He scoffs, closing his laptop and putting his monitor on sleep mode. He makes his way out to the hallway.

“Where are you going?” Your nosiness gets the best of you, not that you actually cared much about Doyoung’s whereabouts.

“On my way to ask our pretty receptionist what costume she’s going in.” He smirks, making a direct line toward the elevators. Slumping back into your chair, you hover your cursor over the RSVP link. Another damn happy hour. 

Doyoung whistles his way out of the elevator as it dings on the lobby level of the office. Around the corner, he is met with the office receptionist with her hair neatly framing her face and red lips curving into a smile as she greets him. 

“Good afternoon Daisy, how are you today?” He rummages through the candy bowl full of mints and dental gum, despite never really caring for sweet cavity inducing treats.

Daisy leans forward on her desk with her sweet smile never leaving her pretty face. “I’m good, how are you?” She knows Doyoung as the man that would often stop by at random hours of the day for small talk and a mint. Not entirely knowing that he was mostly there to see her, she indulges in the light conversation with the nice man. 

“Happy that it’s Thursday, as usual.” Doyoung tears the mint wrapper with his teeth. His forearm is placed comfortably on the counter of the desk as he leans forward chatting with Daisy. 

“Friday is so close.” Daisy says excitedly, clapping her hands together in a cheery youthful manner. “Any weekend plans?”

“Probably going to see the new movie in theaters with a friend.” Truthfully, Doyoung never really has weekend plans set. He spends his weekends indoors and locked behind his door. A true mystery as to what he does behind it. “Not sure though, I’ll see how I’m feeling in the morning.”

“Yeah, I get that. I try to get out of my house during the weekend so that I’m still productive, even though all I want is to relax in bed.” She chuckles and instantly, Doyoung smiles at her relatability and honesty. Her energy is contagious, he always feels a burst whenever he speaks to her. 

“Hey, I mean to ask, do you have a costume in mind for the happy hour next week?” Doyoung suckles the spicy peppermint, rocking it back and forth between each cheek. Daisy ponders for a second and he finds an opportunity to make a very bad joke. “Anything to do with flowers perhaps? Because you’re Daisy.” He laughs at his own joke and she lightly gives in to such a corny question.

“That would be funny,” she laughs, “but I’m not sure if I can attend. I let Patricia know that I’ll be attending my boyfriend’s sister’s engagement party that night.” What a glass shattering moment as Doyoung was not aware that Daisy had a boyfriend. Then again, a woman like her wouldn’t be stuck being single and moping about her sad love life like his own cubicle roommate coworker, y/n.

“Darn, we’ll miss you there then.” Doyoung finds a way to exit the conversation, knowing his heart is already breaking thinking about Daisy spending her weekends out and about with another man. The fantasy of her is ruined.

“Aw, thank you Doyoung.” Daisy reaches underneath her desk and pulls out a familiar looking earbud case, “also, are you able to hand this back to y/n? They dropped this on their way in, but they were already rushing into an elevator before I could catch them. You two are dating, right?”

Doyoung’s lips part open in shock, hearing those words come from Daisy’s mouth entice a strange feeling. His initial reaction is to deny it, clearly, but she looks at him with such awe that he doesn't know what to say. “Where did you hear that?”

“Oh, I overheard a few people chatting about you two. I think people said you two moved in with each other after 5 months of dating.” Daisy innocently explains. “My boyfriend and I could never move in together, at least, not yet. I feel like we have to hit that two year mark before deciding to do so.” 

He chuckles awkwardly, unsure what he is more surprised about: Daisy’s boyfriend or the fact that there are actual rumors that he and y/n are dating. “We’re not dating, just roommates. We’re not even really close.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I really thought you two were dating. Please don’t tell them I said anything.” Daisy covers her mouth and Doyoung accepts the earbuds. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” He forces a smile, bidding a small see you later to Daisy before heading back upstairs to his boring job. The dating rumor invades every part of his thoughts as he tosses the case back and forth between his hands. He is going to murder whoever spread such a heinous lie.

“Maybe we should stagger when we leave. I’ll go first and start my car, then you come down ten minutes later, walk around the lot and then get into my car.” Doyoung nibbles on his granola bar, leaning against the sink counter. Drying your tupperware, you stare at him in confusion.

“Why such an elaborate plan to just go home?” You question.

Doyoung shakes his head at you, as if you don’t think about the potential risks lying ahead. “Like you said, people start rumors so we should be careful.” 

Halting all your actions completely, you blink blankly at a nervous Doyoung. “You heard something, didn’t you?” 

“When did I–”

“Doyoung, I will rip that granola bar out of your hand. What was it?” 

He neatly places the wrapper back on, setting it down and crossing his arms. “There are rumors of us dating and that we moved in with each other after five months of dating, which in itself is already ridiculous. Obviously, I would wait longer than that to move in with my partner because you never really know if you’d last with that person and then, you’re stuck in an awkward living situation if you ever break up.” Doyoung huffs and puffs. 

Your facial expression doesn’t change, remaining completely unamused and blank as you listen to this man aimlessly derail from the main point. “Thanks for that.” Your tongue clicks and sarcasm laces your words. “I told you, didn’t I?”

“You have to be right all the time, don’t you?” He scoffs, annoyed and grows impatient with your lack of reaction. 

“Uh, with you? Most definitely.” You laugh, which Doyoung does not expect. “People are so bored here that they’ll make up the weirdest out of pocket thing about someone else. Us interacting is enough ammo for them to shoot some made up scenario.” 

“How are you so unphased by this?” 

You pack up your lunch boxes into your bag, “because I know none of it is true. I can barely stand you.” Pausing, you turn to face Doyoung fully. Your hand lightly pats his chest and he watches your every movement, the distance between the two of you closing in. “Like you said, let them think what they want.”

Now, it is Doyoung’s turn to remain speechless at the statement. He should really listen to his own advice.

When you were desperate for a place to live, it did come to your surprise that Doyoung came to your rescue. You two are very distant friends from college, a more accurate title would be acquaintances. Being in the same few clubs made him a familiar figure, but never anyone you personally got close to or spoke much with.

However, there was no harm in networking post-grad. If anything, it became an advantage to come from a big club with so many people aligned in the same field to gain insight into different companies, internships, and  potential job offers. You landed your current adult job with the help of a few connections and chats at career fairs. 

Nonetheless, the offer to move into Doyoung’s apartment was conditional. He had been laid off of his previous work and had to find a new job as soon as he could. Doyoung was able to land the job at your current company through your referral and you were approved to be a co-signer on the lease of the apartment. It felt fated to be and everything fell into its place perfectly, if only you two were compatible. 

The thing with Doyoung is that he always gave off a vibe that he was stuck up and prude. You also had an impression he didn’t like you during college due to you sleeping with his friend, Jaehyun, and breaking his heart when you didn’t want a relationship with him. When you first moved in, you gave Doyoung a lot of leeway but he always treated you coldly. At some point, you had enough of it and decided that he should get a taste of his own attitude. 

Nevertheless, your friendship worked better this way. You’re not entirely sure of the psychology behind it, but Doyoung seemed to communicate with you easier when you were at each other’s throats. All those enemies to lovers tropes you would read growing up were finally making sense to you. 

You two did grow closer when living together, but definitely not to the point where you two were best friends. Doyoung still kept you at arm's reach and so did you. There are a lot of things about him that you didn’t know about, it was quite actually last month that you learned that Doyoung had an older brother. It was only because he had stopped by to drop off some food for him from his mom. 

Doyoung is not the type to warm up to someone quickly, resembling a locked cabinet and a key that is lost somewhere. He is just waiting for the right person to find it. Due to this, you two live very separately at home. Doyoung is quick to rush into his own room and you’re often the one to wander around the living space before finding your way back to yours. 

So on this random weekend, you’re wondering why there is a soft knock at your door. Kicking the blankets off of your body, you rush over to open your closed bedroom door to reveal a messy bed hair Doyoung in his bunny pajama pants. 

“Hey, good….” Doyoung checks the time on his phone to be sure, lifting one eyebrow at your sleepy expression. “Evening.” 

“What do you want?” You groan, ready to let the door hit him in the face. “I get enough of you at work.” You rub your eyes to rid any junk stuck on your lashes. 

“Since your car is in the shop, I was wondering if you needed a ride to run any errands or to grab food. You haven’t left your room the whole day, so you must be hungry.”  His eyes dart left and right, avoiding eye contact as best as he can. Doyoung looks so sheepish, like a deer caught in headlights.

You can’t help, but laugh. “Aw, are you caring for me right now?” 

His face contours into complete disgust. “Not really. I just don’t want to find your dead body in the apartment and potentially get sued for negligence.”

“Well, I’m not hungry.” In that moment, your body couldn’t have had better timing. Your stomach rumbles loudly and Doyoung just blinks at you until it passes. 

You both break out into laughter, “fine, what are you getting for dinner?”

“There’s a new place in town that I’ve been eyeing. A bit upscale, if you’re down.” Doyoung starts walking toward his room, eyebrow raised and waiting for your confirmation. 

“You’re paying.” You close the door before he could protest. You and Doyoung have shared a few meals together, but nothing consistent. It’s not awkwardness that stops the both of you, but that there really isn’t much to chat about over a plate of food. Besides work, you two don’t share any of the same interests or the same circle of friends. 

On top of that, Doyoung would never open up over a sirloin steak. He barely opens up with a bottle of wine. You’ve given up trying to interrogate him with endless questions about his personal life, he never really asks about yours anyways. 

Though, meals with Doyoung aren’t entirely dreadful. His refined palate and hefty paycheck allows for you a delicious culinary experience. You’d never admit it, but eating with him was much better than eating alone.

Dressing for the occasion, you step out in an entirely new and refreshed vibe. Doyoung nearly chokes at the sight of you, not used to seeing you all dolled up and well, nicely dressed. Unintentionally, the accents of your colors match and Doyoung takes note of it, not throwing much of a fit as he usually would. 

“Matching is not a bad thing.” Doyoung clears his throat, hands slipping into his pressed pants and obvious aversion to eye contact.

“Matching with you it might be.” You snicker, but loved your attire too much to change into something else for the night. Both of you head out for dinner and you catch a whiff of something vibrant as Doyoung follows into his car. 

“New cologne?” The strap of the seat belt rustles in the quiet vehicle. Doyoung doesn’t say anything, turning on the engine and pulling out of the parking space with ease.

There is a long moment of silence, at this point you’ve concluded that he probably completely ignored your question. However, after a few blocks, Doyoung follows up with his own inquiry, “you like it?” 

Raising a brow, you’re finding his behavior quite peculiar tonight. It’s a bit unsettling and rather confusing. “I prefer your usual clean scent. This citrus doesn’t match you.”

Without a word of protest, Doyoung grins to himself at your words. Though, you’re too busy scrolling on your phone and participating in the usual silent atmosphere of the car ride.

“Have you thought of your Halloween costume for the happy hour?” Doyoung delicately cuts into his flank, twirling the piece of meat in the brown gravy that was neatly swirled on the plate.

You shrug, popping the broccolini into your mouth. There hasn’t been much thought about that email since it dropped in your inbox. If anything, you hadn’t even considered the fact that it was already October.  It felt like just yesterday you were on a rooftop bar in the warm summer sunset. 

“Any ideas?” You pat your hands on the cloth napkin on your lap, eyebrow raised toward Doyoung. Not that this man would give you any good ideas, you’re already settling on your last ditch effort costume you always went as during your college years.  

The restaurant is incredibly fancy, way more than you had been anticipating when he had mentioned it being a little upscale. It is moderately loud inside, but nothing above light chatter and the jazz music still audible over the voices. You two had been seated right away, the hostess having starry eyes the moment she saw Doyoung walk in. 

The waiters referred to you with proper titles and offered the wine of the night, placing it in its own separate small table. Anyone could have mistaken you and Doyoung for being a couple on a date, perhaps celebrating an anniversary or a nice date night. 

While at any other occasion you would make it incredibly obvious that isn’t the case, the food is too immaculate for you to care. The tenderness of your meat is melt worthy and the taste of garlic butter hits your palette lovingly. You were too busy indulging in the meal before Doyoung had spoken.

“Maybe something with a mask.” Doyoung responds after a rather long thoughtful silence. 

Your face deadpans, rolling your eyes at how silly it was to even ask him for a serious suggestion. “Ha! So funny.” Your sarcasm bites at his skin.

He flinches slightly at your tone, but places his fork and knife on the white table cloth. He wipes his lips with his napkin, “I’m not saying it to be mean. I meant it as a masquerade.” 

“Why would I wear a mask the whole night in front of our VPs?”

Doyoung shrugs in return, “isn’t the point of Halloween pretending to be someone you’re not? Or trying to hide behind a facade?” 

“That’s too philosophical. Halloween is about tricks, treats and pumpkins.” He laughs at your explanation, bringing the rim of his wine glass to his lips.

“That’s one way to view it.” He unbuttons his cufflinks and rolls his sleeves up to his elbows. Your eyes wander before your mind could remind you it's Doyoung you’re gawking at. “I might go with a mask, like a masked prince of some kind.” 

You laugh, “yeah, I’m sure Daisy will swoon over that.”

Doyoung doesn’t smile, instead he clears his throat uncomfortably. “She has a boyfriend and she’s not going.”

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that your work crush has been diminished.” You pout, quite insincerely and mockingly. Doyoung scoffs at your statement, rolling his eyes at how he’s willing to entertain this. 

“It was never going to work out anyways. She thought you and I were together.” The statement nearly causes you to choke on your wine. He raises an eyebrow at the slight break in your careless reactions. 

“Wow, it traveled all the way to our receptionist. That’s how you know the whole office practically knows about it.” However, he read it all wrong as you began to speak. Your nonchalant answers bring Doyoung no reassurance as he watches with a quizzical look as you eat your mashed potatoes. 

“Maybe you like the thought of us being together.” Doyoung snickers. He doesn’t mean it, but he did want to shake up the atmosphere to see how playful he can get with you. 

You kick his shin under the table and he lightly jumps, “calm down, prince. Don’t want the commoners to know how much of a narcissist you are.” Narrowing your eyes at him, you grumble. The mashed potato now tasted a bit sour from Doyoung’s jokes. 

“C’mon, seriously? Do you actually think that I’m a narcissist?” Doyoung places a hand on his chest, as if you could be referring to anyone else. He is so dramatic, you think to yourself as you see him tap away a fake tear.

So you decide to be truthful and slightly hurtful, simply because he asked for it. “Yes, I genuinely do at times.” Your powerful tone in your words shocked Doyoung a bit, his head shaking a bit from the actual truth.

“Oh,” He clears his throat awkwardly, halting his playful demeanor. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to come off that way.” This is the first time you’ve seen him completely vulnerable in his apology. It is a sharp difference compared to his usual snarky “my bad” or “oops”. 

The hurt on his face is evident, pursing his lips on the rim of his wine glass and the thoughts flooding his heavy head. A part of you feels guilty, wondering if a line had been drawn. 

“Unfortunately, you’re still a likable person as people say.” You clear your throat and shift nervously in your seat. Doyoung looks up through hood eyes at your compliment, but holds back the grin that itches to form on his lips. 

Something about his gaze almost makes you falter, “why did you choose such a fancy place for dinner?” 

“Because I genuinely wanted to see what this place was all about. I’ve been hearing Greg from Finance brag about how he’s eaten here for the past two weekends.” Doyoung lightly taps the table with his index finger, like a habit he couldn’t grow out of.

“You let Greg of all people talk you into a $200 bill?” You can’t hold the laugh back because of how ridiculously easy Doyoung can be swayed by someone else’s opinions. “And what do you think about dinner tonight?

Doyoung may have mistaken the implication in your question — if there even was one. He halts his rhythmic tapping, sitting up to straight out his wrinkled shirt and gazing upon you right in front of him. 

“Dinner was…” The bill lands on the edge of the table and Doyoung flips open the book with one flick. He breaks focus from you for a quick second to look at the final grand number on the thin piece of paper. You barely get a glimpse, as he places his card down and shuts it swiftly. 

His eyes back fully on you, “most definitely worth it.” The smile on Doyoung’s face isn’t menacing or mockery, you’re completely convinced that it’s a smile meant for you. And, you’re unsure how to interpret the butterflies that flutter at the pit of your stomach. 

As if the day couldn’t get any worse, you walk into work with everyone in some bizarre work appropriate costume and staring at you as if you’re the odd one out. Your costume is in your bag, which Doyoung so graciously let you leave in the trunk of his car before coming in. However, you’re wondering if it's too late to dash back outside to grab it so you fit in with everyone else. 

“Good morning, y/n!” Daisy, a very chirpy and red painted smile, greets you routinely. Cute flower clips line her hair perfectly and the all green attire can only mean one thing: she is a flower. “What’s your costume?”

Laughing nervously, you’re finding a way out of this small talk. “It’s a surprise! You’ll see when we all leave for happy hour tonight.”

“I might be going before then, but please stop by if you have the time to get it on earlier.” She happily smiles, bidding you a small “have a good day!” before returning her focus back to her screen.

The elevator stops on your floor and it’s as if Jack Skellington came overnight and vomited Halloween all over the cubicles. There always has to be that one coworker who is obsessed with the holiday and they lovingly decorated the office before everyone came in. Including yours and Doyoung’s cubicle.

You’re awkwardly shuffling past your coworkers, saying small good mornings and getting weird looks. However, you’re trying very hard to not draw attention to being the only one not dressed up. A tiny baby pumpkin sits in front of your monitor and a neatly wrapped ghost cookie with your name written on a post it note awaits you. 

“Good morning!” Your coworker’s head pops from over the wall and incites a startled scream from you. Of course, she’s laughing giddily at successfully scaring the living out of you. 

“Hey Mariel, good morning. Did you make these?” There is no second guessing who else would be this enthusiastic about Halloween than Mariel is. She talked your ear off the day it hit October 1st about ghouls, goblins, and ghosts.

She even had a spooky countdown calendar of the days until the 31st. On top of that, she was the only one overly excited about the Halloween happy hour the moment the email hit everyone’s inbox.

“Of course. I do a baking side gig, I had to bring in a few spooky friendly treats for everyone in office!” She rests her chin on her palm and squints her eyes at you, “where’s your costume?”

Your palms immediately get sweaty. It’s like disappointing a kid on Christmas by telling them that Santa isn’t real or your mom buying you a nice and modest dress for graduation, but you accidentally stain it. The nervousness to answer creeps up your throat and before you can speak, a voice answers for you.

“Isn’t it classic of y/n to dress up as an office worker?” Doyoung stands up in his cubicle to interject himself in the conversation. 

Mariel nearly loses a lung from how hard she laughs at Doyoung’s corny attempt at a joke. “It’s actually classic of the both of you to not wear your costumes to work.” She adds, wiping the tears from her crinkled eyes. “What’s next? Matching costumes?” 

“Mariel, it’s a surprise.” Doyoung plays it off smoothly.

“Let me guess, Barbie and Ken?” She taps the counter, like a buzzer on a game show to lock in her answer. You’re already shaking your head and Mariel frowns.

Doyoung sighs loudly and dramatically, “I know, Mar. I’d be such a good Barbie, but y/n didn’t want to give that to me.” Oh god, he’s good.

You laugh along, stiffly. “Well, that was the end of our potential matching costumes. We went our separate ways and you’ll see mine later today.” It is enough to get Mariel off of your back about not dressing up at work. Hurrying to settle your things, Doyoung walks around to your side. 

“Did you see how beautiful Daisy looked?” He muses, daydreaming about the whimsical fantasy of the office receptionist. “Must be a lucky guy.”

“She looks like a true flower.” You’re mindlessly unloading your essentials from your work bag and only half listening to Doyoung ramble. “Damn it, I left my coffee in your car.” Throwing your hands up in frustration, you’re already running late for your first meeting of the day with your supervisor. 

Doyoung doesn’t wait a second to push you back into your seat, thinking you could make a quick sprint if he had handed you his keys. “I’ll get it for you. Patricia already asked about your whereabouts.” He smoothly reaches over your shoulder to grab your laptop, the usual scent of his clean cologne brushes your nostrils lightly as the distance between you closes briefly. 

Your heart is pounding in your ears at the proximity, looking up at Doyoung’s long exposed neckline with his collarbones barely peeking out from his linen shirt. Under this dreary fluorescent office lighting, Doyoung looks rather dreamy. 

Nonetheless, you shake off this sudden and weird daydream when he hands you your laptop and makes his merry way to get you your coffee. You’ve got to be losing your mind, the mundane suffocating atmosphere of an office space is causing you to seek any thrills. You’re being delusional. You could never have feelings for Doyoung, of all the people, never Doyoung.

You come back from your meeting to your coffee neatly placed next to your monitor on a coaster and your bag with your costume in your chair. Silently, you grab your tote and rush off to the bathroom to change before anyone could notice your appearance and sudden disappearance. 

It wasn’t an extravagant costume and it was most definitely not the store bought ones from a pop-up Spirit shop. A black cat has been your go-to DIY last minute costume since college for those rendezvous frat parties or a drunk Halloween night out with your friends. Since it had to be work appropriate, a sexy black cat is out of the picture. 

Smoothing the strands of your hair to adjust the cat ear headband, you give yourself small whiskers with your black eyeliner. “Here’s to Halloween.” A small grumble to yourself, you’re out of the bathroom and briskly walking between cubicles in your slightly form fitting all black attire. 

Your head down and laying low, hoping that Mariel doesn’t notice your costume before you get to your own corner. Making it down the runway, Doyoung’s back is turned and completely working his life away. Somehow, your presence behind him causes a breakaway and he’s spinning around before you could hide back into your cubicle. 

“Thanks, Doyoung.” A small murmur escapes, but Doyoung hears you loud and clear. He doesn’t say anything, instead, his eyes rapidly take in your figure and change of attire. The cat ears on your head cause him to blush, something he didn’t know you could do to him so easily.

“A recurring costume, I’ll admit it’s better than my mask idea.” He gestures, awkwardly clearing his throat at the weird tension that rose from his obvious gawking. 

You’re puzzled, “I can’t recall a time you would’ve seen me like this.” It’s true, you two never spent a Halloween together since you had moved in with him and perhaps, those drunk college nights are too hazy for you to be too sure of yourself.

Doyoung chuckles to himself, peering down at his hands as he delightfully remembers the vivid memory of him catching a glimpse of you for the first time. “Halloween, third year. It was at the NCT yearly ‘Monster Mash’ party. I saw you briefly in the kitchen, looking through the empty bottles of liquor for a drink.”

Then it hits you! That was the night that you had arrived late to the party and almost ditched when there was no more booze left, but you encountered Jaehyun.

“That was so long ago! Wow,” your finger resting on your chin and looking back on the good ole times, “I can’t believe you remembered something like that.” Your voice grows smaller at the end of your sentence, full realization hitting you that Doyoung has known you before you had known him. He kept that memory to himself all these years.

Doyoung, also equally as shocked, feels caught in headlights. Nonetheless, something in his heart wants to open up to you and this feels like an open door opportunity. However, he isn’t sure if he is ready to ruin the dynamic the two of you share. What if he opens more than you’d take? One foot in the door, he can’t imagine this fleeting feeling would come again.

“I couldn’t get you out of my head that night.” He wholeheartedly admits and a heavy tug pulls at your heart. Your jaw drops slightly at his confession and your thoughts are running at godspeed. Doyoung’s heart is pounding in his ears. 

Before you could say anything, Mariel is walking back to her cubicle and is quick to address your costume. You’re half hearing her, mind still stuck on Doyoung’s words and wondering how differently your lives would have been if Doyoung had approached you that night instead of Jaehyun. What could have been? 

Rustic wooden panels cover the walls of The 127 Bar and Restaurant, giving it that upscale cabin/lodge-feel. Cobwebs lined with plastic spiders and pumpkins with ghoul expressions litter the corners of the counters. Festive Halloween music is muffled by the loud ambiance of chatter. You’re already counting down the hour of when it's socially acceptable for you to leave. 

Coworkers dressed in costumes is a silly concept to you, mainly because you don’t associate anything fun with work and you definitely don’t want to see your coworkers in anything else besides their slacks and button ups. Doyoung, however, beats that exception as he walks in with a black velvet cape and fake blood dribble down his chin. His suit vest is surely something straight out of his own wardrobe and there is way too much hair gel slicked in his hair.

“A vampire fits you much better than a masked prince.” Whether it is meant as an insult or a compliment, Doyoung smiles at your comment. 

“A black cat and a vampire, can we be any more cheery?” Doyoung says sarcastically, earning a small laugh as you look upon your very dark attires for the night.

Shrugging, you lightly pat his shoulder to guide him toward the VPs. “We all can’t be Daisy. She takes the cake for having optimism in this cruel corporate world. Now, let’s go get our attendance points so we can leave earlier.”

“A black cat mind reader? That elevates your costume a bit.” Doyoung smirks, leading the way to a doomful 15 minute conversation with important people. 

Doyoung surprises you by how social he can get. You two normally attend the usual happy hours that your coworkers like to have after work, but that is mostly among a few that sit on your floor. This mixer included every department and Doyoung jumps conversation to the next with ease and speed, you could hardly keep up.

“Okay, social butterfly. I haven’t heard you talk so much since college club meetings.” Raising an eyebrow, you’re stopping Doyoung from approaching another coworker dressed as a skeleton. 

“I haven’t seen you this quiet in a while. What’s wrong? Cat’s got your tongue?” He blinks at you with a dull expression.

Suddenly, you’re feeling self-conscious at how he noticed your silence. “Corporate happy hours aren’t my thing. I don’t particularly have interests with any of these people.” 

Doyoung purses his lips, “yet you seem to talk endlessly with me and we have nothing in common.” 

Clearing your throat, you’re unsure of this strange feeling in your chest. You and Doyoung have commonality in background – school, clubs, mutuals, profession – but interests seem to be way far out of scope for the two of you. While the few dinners you two would share are rather silent, it doesn’t eat you alive the same way corporate social events do. Despite the forced close proximity, you don’t know if you and Doyoung would actually be friends with each other. 

“Right, but it’s different for us.” Trying to save the sinking ship seems harder to do as you rack your brain for an argument. 

Doyoung tilts his head slightly, “different? How is it different?” In that moment, there is a shift in his demeanor as he tucks his hands into his pants pockets and leans back slightly on his heels. A hooded stare, eyebrow raised, and a smug smirk waits to hear how your relationship with Kim Doyoung is so different compared to your other coworkers. 

Feeling small under his gaze, you’re wondering why a heat travels across your cheeks. The Halloween music and robust atmosphere are completely tuned out at this point. “We have common things to talk about besides work, like mutuals! I don’t know– you just get me. Lately, I feel like you’ve been opening up a bit more.”

Doyoung nearly beams hearing the last part of your ramble because he feels exactly the same. You just get him, despite always being at each other’s throats. He knows that this banter would not work with anyone else, it had to be you.

It’s like with each interaction, you get closer to the key in unlocking everything about him. Without your knowledge, he so badly wishes you to be the one to find it. 

“Hey you two!” Greg from Finance wraps his arms around Doyoung’s shoulders, appearing rather abruptly and startling the both of you. “How was your date at Bodega 127?” 

Your eyeballs nearly fall out of your socket at the word date being thrown carelessly when referring to you and Doyoung. Doyoung reacts quite nervously and is shocked as well at the odd choice of wording Greg decided to use. 

“I wouldn’t call it a date...” Doyoung chuckles, exchanging anxious glances with you. 

“Yeah, we’re not together.” You jump in with Doyoung at denying such a bold accusation. 

“Oh, come on! There’s no need to feel embarrassed. The whole office knows already, what’s the point in trying to hide it?” Greg continues to poke the bear. 

“I can see how it might come off that way, but Doyoung and I aren’t into each other like that.” Your eyes bounce between a skittish Doyoung and an overly-pushy Greg. “Right, Doyoung, you don’t like me that way?” You’re begging him with your stare, but for some reason, Doyoung hesitates long enough for you to notice.

“Uh yeah. We’re just coworkers.” He averts making eye contact with you and you’re thrown off your tracks at how off-putting he is being. You’re trying to hold back the confusion from showing on your face, but Greg takes the bait.

“Okay, I’ll stop berating you two about your relationship. But when Doyoung told me he brought you there, I will say I thought it was for a date night y’all were having. It’s that type of restaurant experience, y’know?” Greg lightly pats Doyoung on the back before walking off to chat with another group of coworkers. 

You’re standing still next to Doyoung and wondering why the fuck he hesitated when you asked him such an easy question. He doesn’t look your way, gaze remains glued to the floor.

“I think we should leave now.” He says, dashing toward Patricia to let her know of your exits. A sigh escapes your body, completely confused and lost at every feeling roaming in your chest.

The drive back home is completely silent. The elephant in the room becomes bigger at every stoplight. Most of the trip is you staring out the window, trying to process the last few scenes at the happy hour. Doyoung remains focused on the drive, so much that he forgets to put music on to distract from the stiffness in the air. 

When you two finally make it back up to the apartment, you’re the first to break the awkward silence. “Hey, uh– thanks for driving me around these past few days. The car shop told me that my car is ready tomorrow, so I won’t need to carpool with you anymore.”

He nods, despite the long sinking feeling of his heart reaching the bottom of his stomach. He has had so much fun with you lately being around him, he isn’t sure if he’s ready to go back to how things were — living so separately in the same place.

“Sorry about Greg.” Doyoung rubs the back of his neck, “I didn’t know he would say something like that.” He gently wipes off the dried fake blood on his chin.

“We’re used to it, right?” The airy, lightness in your tone puzzles Doyoung. “At least he was courageous enough to actually address it to our faces instead of contributing to the gossip in the office.” 

“He’s just a big idiot.” Doyoung unties his cape and tosses it over the couch. “I shouldn’t have told him we went together.”

It somewhat offended you, “what? You don’t want to be seen with me or something?” You toss your headband onto the dining room table, fixing your hair back to its normal state.

However, Doyoung perks up at the evident tone in your voice and the scorn in your expression. “It’s not that.” 

“You know, Doyoung, you have been really confusing lately.” There is a pause before you continue, wondering how you should word this without sounding so rash.

“First, you’re knocking on my door and asking me to dinner. Then, you’re getting me my coffee from the car. And, you hesitated back there when I said you didn’t like me and our conversations recently have been different, so open ended.” 

Doyoung leans against the couch, arms crossed and  intently listening to your speech. “Are you implying that I have feelings for you?”

He sounds so snarky that it causes your skin to crawl, frustration fuels your soul at how delusional he is making you seem. “I’m just stating the facts.” 

Doyoung scoffs, arms falling back to his sides. A minute passes, but it feels nearly like forever given the silence in the room and how his eyes are glued to the ground, full of contemplation. However, not just any careless amount of contemplation, but real and genuine assessment on how he has felt over the past two weeks with you.

He opens his mouth to speak, but falls short of formulating a coherent sentence and feels a bit choked up and confused by himself. Though, you’ve been standing there and waiting for him and the silence has made you incredibly uncomfortable. “It’s a reach. There’s no possible way for you to harbor any feelings for me. We made that really clear to each other.” 

You’re turning to hide back into your room, but Doyoung quickly stands at your door frame, alert and before you. “It’s not entirely a reach….” He mumbles, “I can’t say confidently that I have true and full romantic feelings toward you, but I have been seeing you in a romantic light.” 

“I don’t fully understand what you mean.” Your eyebrows knit together, finding that his speech sounds too much like a riddle. 

He takes a deep breath in, exhaling to calm the waking nerves in his throat. “I’m beginning to understand that some of what I feel towards you is romantic, like I don’t want to stop being around you or I want to go out of my way to do things that make your life easier.” He smirks coyly to himself, breaking the intense exchange of dialogue between the both of you briefly, “I’m an acts of service kind of guy.” 

“Look, I’m saying that yes, I think I’m starting to have feelings for you. It wasn’t until recently did I feel like we’ve really gotten to spend time together after you’ve moved in.” His shoulders drop, “and I don’t know, I just– like you said, you just get me.”

This moment between the both of you is so real. There are no gimmicks, no foul play, no teasing and banter. Doyoung means every word he is saying. While a part of you wants to joke around and say something snarky, the other part of you feels serious and rather shocked at this confession.

Never in your mind did the potential of Doyung catering feelings toward you exist. And now, even more than ever, you’re actually reflecting on your own thoughts toward him. Doyoung is the first person you want to go to in a crowded room, it’s like you’re searching for him without realizing it. He’s the one you want to rely on, knowing how capable and responsible he is. Doyoung, given the chance, can really brighten up the room. 

If there was anyone in this world he chose to open up to, you wanted it to be you. 

“Can I kiss you?” Doyoung almost stopped himself from saying it, but he had to know. Your eyes are beyond huge at his request, the sound of thumping in your chest growing in your ears.

“What?” You croak, taken aback by this random out-of-character question. Doyoung’s cheeks are as bright red as a tomato, but he doesn’t break his intense eye contact. 

“Kiss me, I want to know if my feelings are real.” He steps a bit closer with lips parted slightly, rosy cheeks, and dilated pupils. Your shaky hands slowly reach to cup his face and there the beating of your heart quickens, fast enough to where you think you could faint. 

“If we kiss and neither of us feel anything, we’ll pretend it never happened.” You’re trying to cushion any chance at rejection, so that it wouldn’t end in complete disappointment from either one of you. It’s to soften the blow. 

Nevertheless, Doyoung nods in your hot hands and brings your chin close with the pull of his finger. Your lips pucker and land gently on his, your eyes still wide open and you’re in utter shock that Kim Doyoung, the man you thought you’d never kiss, is now kissing you. 

It’s as if fuel added to a flame, the fire in your stomach grows violently at this connection. Doyoung swears he could feel a sudden spark in his tight chest, electricity running in veins.

He pulls away and the contact between you two breaks as quick as it connected. He simply blinks at you, with a cute doe-eyed expression and red cheeks. You’re blinking back, heart in your throat and a desire to kiss him again. 

“Are your feelings real?” You ask him a question you’re scared to know the answer to, worried that he didn’t feel that same fire as you did from that kiss and he’d ask to pretend it never happened.

“Real, absolutely real.” Doyoung confirms with a breathy speech. He can’t pinpoint how long these feelings have been locked away and how long he has ignored them. Nonetheless, that kiss proves so much to himself, one being that he is way more head over heels for you than he thought. 

And the next course of action he chooses may ruin your current dynamic completely, but he fully and utterly wants to commit to you. He doesn’t tell you, worried that it may scare you off when he only wishes to hold you close.

The two of you stare into each other’s eyes for a brief moment of silence with tensions high and hearts beating fast. Both are unaware of how to proceed without making things awkward or shifting too greatly from your banterful friendship. 

So, Doyoung eases in with a request so telling, but gentle enough for the two of you to agree upon. “Let me drive you to work from now on.” 

Your eyes glimmer with a shine, clearing your throat before you speak. “Is this about our carbon footprint or something else?”

He chuckles, “we’re saving the Earth while I also get to spend more time getting to know you, it sounds like a win - win situation to me.” 

“And the rumors?” 

Doyoung leans down to whisper gently into your ear, “let them think what they want.” The same shivers that ran through your body before had returned, but accompanied with butterflies dancing lovingly in your stomach.

Strange how two weeks ago, you thought that the possibility of romantically being with Doyoung was close to none and the best way to describe the two of you was that you just coexisted together. But, here you two are: standing in the middle of your shared living room with sparkling eyes for each other and a newfound excitement for a new relationship, more than just coexisting.

[despazito]

Idk in my idyllic world the use of ai could improve animation workflow and catapult junior level artists into creative leads roles faster if there's less menial work to be done.

We could have artists still in charge of creative decisions and drawing vis dev while the computer assists with the most labour intensive steps of making shows or movies.

For simpler shows for instance it would be neat I think if you could run your storyboard through a script and have the machine import all relevant assets staged to the best of its abilities instead of manually having to drag props and rigs into your shot and scaling everything before you can even begin to animate (does that tech exist already? Probably).

Like nowadays we already have animation programs where you can set deformer limitations.

i could imagine a possible future where software includes or does subscription services to ai trained on work by artists who got paid to draw or animate template motions or anatomy references. something like generating smart bones could become an automated feature. i can maybe even foresee tech that can look at a character model or design sheet you've drawn and generate a rig for it. in all these scenarios you would have to correct stuff and tune things to your liking, but it gives a considerable head start to the work.

More dynamic shots could be made on smaller budgets if we gave ai props or backgrounds and said "give me this but rotated a little" instead of drawing the same damn chair from 10 angles as a prop artist, I refuse to believe anyone's passion in life is to make prop turnarounds or clean up inbetweens.

what if you had an ai that was trained on drawings of heads at every angle, animals in every angle, a slew of expressions and mouth shapes, then gave it a character ref drawn from a few angles and bam it makes the vtuber rig for you.

this still leaves space for original art and would still require a skilled creative to make something look it's best, that could be a gig. more animators could potentially begin their own smaller studios if cartoons are way easier to make. if anyone could potentially make their own movie in the future, charge people to do it right! no computer can replace a human knowledgeable in film or drawing to guide it in the right direction. without creative people at a production's core, i think the future of ai film is just a very, very, sophisticated version of goanimate than can also do art theft.

this could become the weird futuristic version of "i wrote this children's book can you illustrate it for me?" but instead your mom's friend wants to commission a show pilot they wrote a screenplay for.

When animation was drawn on cels we had entire painting departments whose job it was to paint each individual frame by literal numbers, and it was tedious!! Now we have the paint bucket tool for digital coloring, and software like Toonboom lets you color in one frame then generate the coloring for the proceeding frames. We still have a colour and painting department, it's just different work now. but now we also have people making full color cartoons from their basements because Flash was released for personal computers with said digital tech along with computer generated motion tweening for animation!!

Junior animator and junior bg painter or prop artist roles will probably face an overhaul where more work can be done with less people. But the utopian outcome would be these junior artists can sooner take up lead or supervisor positions where they get to execute their own ideas instead of someone else's. more shows or movies could be produced with less crew for less money, slashing costs when deciding what to greenlight or to take a risk on new talent. The problem is capitalism would make it suck because it only cares about exploiting workers for those cheapest costs possible and forego the necessary human crew required to make the difference between machine-assisted productions and pure ai generated slop

[avalonlights]

in case anyone is wondering why i've been on less and posting less art, it's not because fandom has lost its grip on me (i'm lurking and enjoying the hell out of what you all post)... it's because i work in animation and the execs are all frothing at the mouth over generative ai and are trying their absolute hardest to brute force it into our workflow in increasingly stupid ways, thinking that will somehow make them more money. not only are those tools still hot garbage that would make what i do actually monumentally harder, it makes me sick to my stomach watching creatively clueless and morally bankrupt execs fall all over themselves to try and profit from tools they KNOW FULL WELL are built on stealing and laundering copyrighted work when there's simply no need to do that. it's sent me into kind of a depressive funk, especially bc i've had to sit through mandatory training on those "tools" that I absolutely refuse to use, and it's given me like... existential dread about never being able to trust an image again. i find myself anxiously over inspecting every online image for 'tells' even in completely unrelated contexts, which is just a soul-crushing knee jerk reaction i do not want to have. fun times. i'm just going to do everything i can to stay the hell away from that nonsense and hope to god there's some regulation coming that helps this mess. i hope i'll feel able to draw again soon bc it's something I love to do for FUN in this extremely stressful world and i'm so mad that this stupid, unnecessary nonsense is impacting that. anyway! sending you all a big internet hug, and i'm sure i'll be back to creating before too long here. hopefully. i miss it. :)

[littleststarfighter]

You don't have to answer this at all, just wanted to give some perspective/info from someone who's been doing illustration commissions for about 15 years: in my opinion, it's always better to work backwards from an hourly rate rather than doing value-based pricing.

When working with private individuals as clients, US$30-50/hr is pretty standard for custom freelance stuff depending on experience, but since you're new to commissions I'd recommend offering a discount for the first few slots (both to get things moving, and also to give yourself lower-stakes "training" until you get used to the process—sometimes your workflow will change in ways you didn't expect under the conditions).

Personally, I prefer to offer a fixed quote based on my hourly rate, because that gets any kind of sticker shock out of the way. I estimate the amount of time it'll take me, add ~10% as a buffer, and apply my hourly rate. The fixed quote also gives me a little freedom not to stress out if it's taking more or less time than anticipated; I just make a note for my next quote and adjust accordingly.

The hourly rate might seem high to you, as it often does to people who are used to more traditional salary structures. But keep in mind that as a freelancer, you're also your own admin support: you don't bill for time spent emailing, researching, invoicing, etc. Tax can also get a bit complicated if you start doing a lot of freelance work.

My own base (non-commercial) rate is US$60/hr, because I've been doing this for a very long time. Frankly, the reason I have a lot of long-term repeat clients who pay my rate is because I communicate well and deliver on time. I set out a timeline up front with scheduled check-ins at various stages, and then I stick to that timeline no matter what. As someone who's also hired many freelance artists in the past, I know that reliability will win over genius every single time.

Speaking of timelines, ALWAYS be specific about the number and scope of revisions you offer. Depending on the project, I might phrase it as "2 rounds of revisions, with up to 1 hour of work per round" or similar. I bill anything beyond that scope at a higher hourly rate, usually about US$90/hr, billed by the half-hour. This also gives you leverage to say "Sure, I can add a whole new character and completely change the background; that will take about X hours which will put us into hourly billing territory at X rate." Either they'll back down or you'll be well compensated for the trouble, and most importantly (from a client services perspective) you've not told them no, you've given them options and reminded them what they've already agreed to.

In terms of payment plans, I normally require 50% up front (non-refundable) and 50% on final delivery. Since you haven't yet built up a rep as a commission artist, I recommend a lower up-front rate (maybe 20-30%). I do strongly advise getting SOMETHING up front to lock clients in and make sure they can't completely ditch if something happens. Plus, refusing to pay a small deposit is a major red flag.

I offer a 5% discount for complete payment up front, because it's honestly worth that 5% just to not have to deal with chasing people down and sending invoice reminders and whatnot.

I'm sorry to hear you've been going through such a tough time, and I hope this was helpful and not too overwhelming; it's just stuff I wish someone had told me when I was first starting out, and I think it's important for working artists to share info about business practices. I wasn't strict about a lot of things back then (like number of revisions), and it always ended up coming back to bite me. It might seem counter-intuitive, but I promise that thinking through and setting a lot of rules/boundaries up front will save you a lot of stress and trouble in the end.

I seriously want to thank you for this. It's incredibly informative not just for me but I'm sure other start out artists too. You've gone over things that I'd have no idea to do, thank you.

I'm certainly looking into how to pay tax as being in the UK I've never had to work that out before as we have it done for us in most jobs. So that would have been something I'd have forgotten about and it's not something you want to miss. I definitely have to time myself working as I don't know how long I take as I've never thought about that either. I just know I'm slow. It's interesting to see what you'd charge hourly as I see a lot of fan commissions having a low fixed rate depending on what you offer.  So definitely have to look whether to offer that or like you suggest a more freelance rate of pay. I'll admit US$30-50/hr made me gasp but that's because I'm used to working for UK minimum wage (roughly $13 a hr) so that seems a lot to me. Gives me something to think about. Though I worry about pricing people out to begin with what with being quite slow and a nobody. And yes! Never forget about getting a deposit. I learnt that the bad way decades ago when I did try to do a commission and was never paid. That's what made me nervous to even begin as I can be a pushover. So need to be more strict in what I can offer and of course revise too.

Seriously thank you this is so helpful. Like you say there's so much people don't share about getting into freelance and commission work. Getting that step up, even if it's me doing it, is something I've no idea how to even start on. I get people saying why aren't you working in art? But my answer is always 'how?' It's something no one's told me about. How to sell yourself and your work. Even commission work confused me. So please don't worry this is beyond helpful and I'm very grateful for you taking your time to help me. It's been a very rough few months but I'm trying to stay positive. This may help me while I find work. Much love, Lucy 💖

[bluebeads-art]

your art is so amazing !!! i adored the 3d printed stuff (as someone who has had to design myself 3d printed merch before because i don't usually have much access to the merch in my fandom lol), it's so good?? and all your coloring is beautiful <3

all this to say it might not seem like i reblog much but rest assured all the stuff i liked (or didn't) went into my queue a few times over hehehe. i LOVE your art it's amazing <3

wishing you luck with the identity and health stuff, even if it doesn't get better i hope you find happiness within it 🫡

gah this got away from me sorry for the ramble

aaaaaaa I saw this message in a notification on my phone, said "I'll read that when I actually have time to reply," then the notification got dismissed somehow and if there's no notification prompt to remind me of something, it no longer exists to me. It's been a month I'm so sorry ^^;;

Thank you so much! I wish it was easier to convert more of my stuff to be 3D printable, but my usual modeling style is not watertight in the slightest and disregards gravity entirely. 😆 3D modeling has always been really cool to me because there's so many different workflows depending on what you're trying to make. Keeps things from getting stale!

Speaking of differences, I feel like people don't tend to mention my coloring. :0 I think my line art usually steals the show, heh. I used to be a lot more conscious about color theory and shading when I was younger, but these days there's no thoughts, only vibes 😂

Ok the line, "even if it doesn't get better i hope you find happiness within it" hit me unexpectedly hard (in a good way). Any nice messages I get always means a ton to me, but while I don't seem to be able to articulate why at the moment, I think that line will stick with me for much longer than usual. Thank you so much ♥

---

Speaking more generally (this message just gave me a good excuse to talk, heh)- spoilers; the artist in my brain refuses to die. So after, like, a literal year of not touching it, I've started working again on a 3D modeling project that I started in 2021 that has been haunting me ever since. Been trying to redesign a robot OC of mine Rayner, and I'm really particular about wanting his joints to work in a physical space instead of bending the rules artistically. I'm Really bad at designing complex hard surface objects in flat 2D though. However, there's a reason artists tell you not to character design in 3D, and that's because it's slow, it's easy to lose design cohesion, and most importantly it just sucks, awful workflow. But I am Doing it. And while I was super stuck for years and almost developed a friggin phobia of the project, I am now Doing It. And it's actually working out this time. The 3D model itself is MILES from being done, but the design almost is, and while that's a boring end result for other people, it represents a huge milestone and accomplishment for me in many ways.

I've been drawing a little bit lately too! But I feel my social media hiatus has given me a healthier relationship with posting? Like I have a few doodles that I could either post now or post soon, but I don't feel the same pressure to anymore? Where even if I never post them, I think I'm fine with that. I've always thought I made art for myself, but that's not exactly true because I was also making art for the sake of sharing. And while I don't think there's anything wrong with that, I think being able to separate the two and be content with simply just creating is healthy. Also I'm still not as active on social media in general anymore which is probably healthier as well LOL.

So I'll prrrobably start posting again soon-ish now that I've broken this blog's posting silence? Not sure how to wrap this monologue up. My physical health problems are going to keep on probleming, but in terms of artistic fulfillment I've been in a much better place this past month, and that's a huge yeehaw from me 👍

[m-oshun]

Hello, I am very inspired by your work, do you use Paint Tool Sai 1 or 2? I am asking because I've been having issues with both for years off and on. ( not remembering my swatches, etc. ) Now, it finally decided to just quit on me entirely, and refuses to even launch. I've started trying to learn Clip Studio Paint because I am so tired of fixing Sai, but I miss how Sai felt, it was easier for me to stay in workflow and actually finish art. Sorry if I seem so random, again I just really admire your work and would like to practice painting more, but I have no idea how to fix this issue with Sai, have you experienced anything like this?

This is a very late response but I use the original. I do have a trial version of the Sai 2 but never really played around with it... Did you pay for the license? I'm not sure if that's a reason, but I did come across that later and like a lot of people used the cracked version so I hadn't paid after some time. I don't use any other programs anymore and other than the rare occasion it does crash on me (usually when saving) I have no issues with it. :0

[kedamono-dreams]

it's kind of insane that it's gonna be a whole year and a half since I started using linux as my full time OS soon. in my opinion, it's a very good operating system and I only really have issues with certain (important and uninportant) windows engineering/creative applications, certain games, UI, and setting up a proper music production workflow. i also wish it were easier to synchronize configurations and stuff across computers but that is just a "multiple computers" issue.

it's been a really good experience 95% of the time, and i'd recommend it to most people who don't

(boring personal history stuff relating to computers below. at the end i explain some of the issues i've had and how i think i could fix them)

I fried my gamer laptop (obviously a windows machine) on December 6th, 2022 and had to fall back on what would become my favorite laptop, the thinkpad X220t. after juggling a few different unices/Linux distros, I settled on Linux Mint MATE. however, I couldn't do any actual work on that laptop other than like basic web browsing (which was all I needed at the time bc I was in community college)

after a while I managed to put together a pretty cheap desktop! i tried installing windows 10 on it and the installer refused because I was missing drivers for something. i could not figure out what it was, it might have been my CD drive, the hard drives I had, the nvme drive, the graphics card... so I went with what I was using on the thinkpad. Linux Mint installed without a hitch.

after I went to big boy college, I decided to upgrade my laptop since I needed a better portable computer. I was either going to get a 13" Macbook or a Framework, but I went with the Framework because I liked the ideals and the features, alongside some willful ignorance. ("It's a Mac, of course it's going to cost more! Those are super expensive computers!" I assumed, before dropping $500 more than I would have on the Mac I would have bought.) I also installed Linux Mint on the Framework.

Now, to expand on some of the issues I've had with Linux: Engineering applications, creative applications, very few Windows games, UX, and music production.

Engineering applications: I am going to college for ECpE, so I need to use certain programs for coursework/extracurriculars. The big ones are Fusion360, Altium, Solidworks, just most CAD/EDA stuff. (sidenote: Intel/Altera Quartus has binaries for and works on Linux, but it requires so much undocumented work that I had to piece together from compilation/simulation error logs that I consider it to be mostly broken from install.) It sucks that so many important applications are relevant to me/my future work and they don't have native Linux binaries, don't want to install under WINE, and/or require so much finagling that you'll go a little insane trying to get them to work. The FOSS alternatives are either much worse or considered fit for only amateur work. (AFAIK) KiCAD also lacks the collaborative aspects of Fusion360 or Altium, which makes it difficult to work with others who are on Windows and do use F360 or Altium. I could probably solve this through hours of tweaking, or I could just spin up a VM for F360, Altium, or Solidworks.

Creative applications: Everything I could say has already been said, but it's also not as bad as it could be. Krita, Pinta, Darktable all seem to be quite decent. Inkscape is okay. GIMP is functional. Blender is becoming more common in the creative industry, and is a definite rival to other 3D modeling software. I think that there's probably good excuses for Adobe to not release native binaries for Linux, but it would be really nice if they at least allowed or considered supporting/making it easier to run the programs under WINE.

Rare non-functioning Windows games: I rarely play video games anymore, and most video games I want to play work through Proton/WINE by default. (Thank you, Valve!) However, like one or two games I've tried do not work properly. I could see a big reason why: I have an Intel ARC card in my desktop. At this moment in time, the ARC cards are sort of iffy in the Linux sphere. I would recommend against other Linux users getting ARC cards right now, but the price is REALLY right and I would probably buy another one if not for certain political/humanitarian issues. I could probably fix this by getting a different graphics card, tweaking launch parameters, or simply waiting a year or two.

UI: I'm kinda blind. Not legally speaking, but I have a horrible prescription (>-10.00 in each eye before correction for astigmatism) and cannot see without my glasses at all. This is mostly a personal issue, possibly a Framework issue, but very high DPI screens give me trouble. Since fractional scaling does weird stuff, I have to raise the font size by a few points and increase the size of most of the UI elements in order to feel comfortable using computers long term. I also use darker themes on my desktop. This often breaks a lot of UI , making it hard/impossible to read button or labels. LibreOffice programs are pretty bad for this. It sucks.

Music production: This is possible using Linux! Sound on Linux is not that bad! However, attaining a "pro" production config is really hard. This can be solved by nutting up and reading the docs and watching 10 hours of youtube videos, or installing a distro with all the shit built-in and preconfigured. I've heard Ubuntu Studio is pretty okay.

In conclusion: Linux is pretty good. There's issues with it but the issues (IMO) are better than the Windows issues.

[shivering-isles-cryptid]

Hello! I’m doing art commissions now!

If you are interested, please look at the provided info and DM me here or on my Instagram: Velimation

Copyright

I (the artist) have rights to the finished project.

The artist reserves the right to post (or not to) the finished project on social media.

Any private, non commercial use is allowed, such as free personal projects, print the artwork for your own personal projects or as a gift, use it in your private games as your character token, and so on.

The artist has the right to use the artwork in any professional portfolio.

Commercialization requires at least a 150% fee of the total price.

The client still holds copyright claims to the character.

Any editing (asides from cropping for use as an avatar etc.) is prohibited.

All personal information will be kept private and confidential.

Full credits will be given if you choose to upload to social media.

Clients are not permitted in any circumstances to use any part of the finished product for non-fungible tokens or genAI. Use of my artwork for any advertising or profits associated with non-fungible tokens, blockchains, genAI, or cryptocurrency is strictly prohibited.

I will never sell/resell any of my artwork as non-fungible tokens. If artwork I have created, regardless if commissioned or personal, is listed as a non-fungible token or cryptocurrency, it is stolen.

General

Art commissions are a digital hood only, no shipping is required.

By ordering a commission and sending payment, you are agreeing to the Terms of Service.

The client is responsible for providing any necessary information and communicating clearly what their requirements are.

Commissions must be requested through either email (velvetinsanity231@gmail.com) or Instagram DM until I set up the inquiry form.

Commissions are for personal use only.

If I accept your commission, I will contact you with a list of questions that you must answer. If I do not get back to you within 3 days, I have refused your commission.

I hold the right to refuse any commission without explanation if I deem it uncomfortable, or if I believe the client is being rude.

Character descriptions and references are required no matter the commission type or subject.

Payment & pricing

Commissions will be priced individually. The final price will be decided by the artist, depending on the complexity of the task, length of the project, and quality of the references/description.

Payment will be done through CashApp before I start the project.

Full 100% payment in advance. Payment in USD.

Additional fees

Additional limbs (wings, tails, extra arms etc.) will cost extra depending on complexity.

Very complex decorations (jewelry, tattoos, clothing designs etc.) will cost extra.

Portraits will be done on a solid color background.

Additional fees will depend on the complexity of the commission.

Once the project is finished, minor changes (such as minor color adjustments, mistake fixes, or minor details) will be free for three (3) business days. Any large changes (clothing changes, poses, setting) will be charged as extra.

Any deadlines must be communicated and agreed upon prior to the project beginning. Strict deadlines will incur a fee.

A 100% fee will be charged for every extra character that is commissioned as I prefer doing single character drawings.

Workflow

Commission time might take 3 days to 2 months depending on the complexity of the project. I will contact you for any delays.

The amount of time spent on the project depends on how quickly you provide feedback on the progress.

I will send updates as they occur. Please check your email for any updates every 1 to 2 days.

Any unpaid commissions will be removed after 5 days of no response of alternate arrangements have not been scheduled.

If you change your mind about the commission, let me know as soon as possible! It is not rude to let me know and will make me feel better than no response at all.

A 75% refund will be given if you let me know you are cancelling the commission. No refund will be given if you do not let me know, and a 25% refund will be given if the project is already complete.

I draw

Original characters

Fictional characters

I don’t draw

Real people

Furry art (not skilled enough)

Example Fandoms

Hazbin Hotel

Miraculous Ladybug

Dungeons and Dragons

Elder Scrolls

Sims

DC Comics

Marvel

Prices

Portraits: $20-$50

Stylized Portrait: $40 - $70

Full body: $60 - $100

Enviornment: $120 - $200

[phoenix]

So, who wants to hear the story of me trying to do my review of Guilty Pleasures?

...Well, too bad, I'm gonna tell it anyways.

But I'm not a monster.

I needed to do this yesterday, because of my best friend's birthday...

So, my best friend's birthday is, well, yesterday. The 27th. Trisk has always posted reviews on the 26th of each month, so when February rolls around, I've always tried to make my review on that day be something that makes me think of him. From something as much as a movie he likes (Rare for our interests to align enough for that to happen, but I got a few out of that), to something as basic as "made in Canada". The connection doesn't have to be much, and it was always just a bit of something that made me smile, nothing more.

About ten years ago, Scott did a movie review show of his own called, Guilty Pleasures Cinema. I gave him the tagline for the show, and designed his logo, and even made a few appearances as Cthulhu. He eventually gave it up because of trying to include clips always led to copyright strikes, and the audience never showed up enough for him to be happy.

So of COURSE, the reason why I wanted to review Guilty Pleasures this week, once I heard about the movie, is obvious.

Unfortunately, the movie is ONLY available on Blu Ray, and Trisk requires DVDs because of my workflow, and creating images. And also, the one rule of Trisk is "I will own the movie". There's only been two exceptions I've made.

But this is a minor issue, because surely someone has it streaming...well, no. Even though a lot of obscure stuff is, not this. Well, surely I can find it through...other means. Again, no, and that's a bit more shocking. I can usually find stuff SOMEwhere somehow. Maybe ripped to YouTube or similar, other elsewhere, but this was just NOT out there. Or it might be, but GOOD FUCKIN' LUCK trying to find something named "Guilty Pleasures". So much porn...

Side note; I mentioned this to Scott, and he offered to look, and I was like, oh no you are literally the one person I can't tell the name to. ;)

The movie might be out there somewhere, but it's not being easy to find.

STILL, I have a Blu Ray player and a DVD burner! I've done THAT before too, but it's a pain in the ass, and there's loss of quality! EXCEPT...this time the recorder picked up copy protection signals and refused to work, no matter what I did.

Time was running out, and I had three choices; play it on my Blu Ray player in the living room, pause every five seconds, walk to the computer in the other room, right up my notes go back, repeat for 110 minutes...because of course I picked a long movie lol.

Choice #2: Scrap it for now, keep working at it, do it next year, and pick another movie REALLY QUICK.

Choice #3: Buy a Blu Ray drive for my computer, and do it that way.

I went with #3, and found a drive that was reasonably priced that I could justify, and then had to play the waiting game.

Scheduled delivery...the 26th. Because of course...oop, no wait, the 28th.

Under ANY OTHER CIRCUMSTANCE, I would have been happy to push it that late, as much as it hurts, but this is literally the one time, in 14 years of Trisk, when it HAD land no later than the 27th.

In the meantime, I had done my first basic watch of the movie in the living room, handwritten down my basic notes I do on that past, transcribed it to a text file, and gotten the post all set up, just needed the bulk of it to be filled in.

And of COURSE there was problems with the delivery. I used my STREET ADDRESS, since it was coming UPS, but they decided randomly to go 'Nah, we're sending it SurePost so it goes to the post office". But I have a *PO BOX* and not a box at my house, for reasons, and when a package with my street address goes to the post office, it adds another whole day, as it gets sent around on trucks trying to find an address they don't feel 'exists'. And they yell a me for sending it to the street address when it comes to the post office...but this is tangenting and I digress.

I scream and upgrade the package to Ground, and yep, it knocks a day off the delivery time, so the drive is at least arriving on the 27th. There should be zero problems of swapping the drive, watching the movie, and doing the thing!

But hahahaha, do you have any idea how fucking difficult it is to get a Blu Ray movie to play on Windows? IT SHOULD NOT BE THIS HARD. DVDs were just ready to go. I know all the reasons why Blus are a pain, and it's so incredibly ridiculous.

The drive arrived around noon, the actual swap was RIDICULOUSLY easy. I didn't even have to unscrew anything.

It then took me three hours of bashing my head trying to get the discs to be recognised and play. And I won't go in depth with THOSE details.

But FINALLY it got working, I chugged my way through the movie, I did the work, and got it posted around 7pm.

At this point, I had been up 30 hours, I'd recorded, edited, posted a podcast, swapped a drive, did tech support, did up an entire Trisk review, and lemme tell ya, I was exhausted.

What a bloody journey for one absolutely ridiculous movie.

The good news is, this does open up a new door for Triskings, since as can be seen here, while I've done a few Blu movies before, they were always a challenge. Now, they're on the same level of ease as DVDs.

[gaysheep]

geometry nodes make me fucking crazy man they're great in theory but the blender foundation adamantly refuses to make accessible learning resources for something this dense and convoluted

like this is The most egregious example of them relying on their community to bridge the knowledge gap and resources on them are either way too shallow to teach me anything or numerous hour long instructional videos. the official tutorial series for something that they've stated numerous times is the foundation of their design philosophy going forward is paywalled.

i fucking hate video tutorials. i do not want to spend hours having my hand held through navigating the interface of a software ive been using for over a decade and mindlessly copying specific examples waiting for the parts i don't understand to click. can i get like, a library of standard node groups i can pick apart. documentation on the intended start-to-finish workflow of building a tree that i can go back and forth through to troubleshoot. a fucking tooltip add-on. literally anything that isn't watching yet another video.

[otter-byte]

not to be "that guy" but holy fuck I refuse to use literally any program with proprietary file types again. Basically the only thing that was left in my workflow that wasn't markdown/json based was powerpoint but I finally learned how to use obsidian slides and fuck it's good. If I can't interact with a programs files purely through the terminal if required, I don't want to use it.