#I was going to draw a nicer version of this but then I remembered I can’t draw children

[cryptconstellation]

“Alex, why do you have a baby?” Dana asked, blinking in bewilderment and apparently only just noticing PARIAH.

“Bbbbhhhh.” PARIAH contributed, lazily waving a baby arm at her. Dana waved back more on reflex than anything else.

“We ate Greene and too much Redlight, and Blacklight came from PARIAH. And we ate it when we broke it out of the lab, and then it ate us- uh, it’s ours.” Alex hastily simplified at the increasingly incredulous face Dana was making. “Look, it has our eyes?” Void tried, hitching PARIAH up with a flex of biomass so their faces were next to each other. PARIAH obligingly cycled through faces into a squishy, child shaped copy of Alex’s. And sprouted tendrils again, wiggling them at Dana.

“I… see that.” Dana said, entirely at a loss for words.

[theriverdraws]

100k VIEWS!!! WOOO!!

Not my first or second video to reach this number, but definitely the one im most proud of.

Gonna ramble about my thoughts while making this, because I think about it a lot:

- It has been a couple of years since I started it (see desc.), but from what I remember I had this idea because this song popped up on my feed, and I really liked it (had not listened to the eng version before), looped it for a while, and then I was like "...wait this sounds like the warners doesn't it" and it all escalated from there.

- I needed them to kidnap someone, and I think I chose mickey because I had recently made an animaniacs & mickey mouse video and I really liked it, so I just chose to torment him again lmao.

Im actually realizing now that having him be the one kidnapped makes even more sense. In the song, it's halloween gremlins kidnapping santa claus - so the equivalent of WB gremlins kidnapped Mickey Mouse the disney mascot, is pretty perfect. Would like to say this was the plan since the beginning but that would be a lie smdjks.

- I really like the Animaniacs, "Who Killed Roger Rabbit?", and "Looney tunes back in action" takes on a "cartoons living with humans" universe, so in this video it's kinda of a mixture of all three of these - hence toon town (in my head it's mainly disney cartoons that live there, however the really big stars probably got their own houses in human cities I'd imagine). Mickey himself then follows the logic of his personality just being how he was drawn. He's just an average guy. Probably got nicer over the years since bro's personality ended up turning into a slice of bread by Disney, because he had to be the face of the company. My favorite version of Mickey is the one on the Mickey Mouse shorts though, so you can imagine this specific version of him on this video (I know it doesnt look like it in the beginning, I did not know how to draw mickey a couple years ago dnjdjs). In this video Mickey isn't really as evil as the company, he's just the mascot stuck with them. I would say bro is just a doormat. He wouldn't agree with all of their actions, but I dont even think he would acknowledge most of them, make a lot of excuses for them probably. Overrall he's like, fine.

- I needed a CEO to be Oogie Boogie because well.. Who would be better for it?? When I started this 2 years ago, I was deciding between Plotz and Rita (reboot CEO), I was gonna choose her because the Warners were scared of her to some extent, and I can't really imagine them being scared of Plotz. But this year, having picked this video back up, I am filled with great amouns of rage. Therefore, Zazza the clown was born (fuck you David).

- The lore is Zazza the clown sat down on a big chair one day, and people in suits made him CEO. He is an annoying, evil, money grubbing bastard. But also very stupid, so he's not that scary except when he's doing his bad ideas.

- The Warners aren't scared of him though, they are mainly doing this for fun because annoying Disney and the rat would be funny. However, going a bit deeper, they do crave praise and affection from those who hate him (aka the CEO, the entire company, any person with a brain that's around them at all times), so they are also doing this for those reasons. In the original show, there's even an episode where Plotz is not the CEO anymore, and they managed to get him back because they missed him yelling at them (probably not a direct quote, but it was something like that). The children are not well snjene. But yeah they're not taking sides nor scared, they're just doing whatever they want and maybe getting a fist bump out of it. (They are not going to get anything).

- Had to hit them with the PTSD about getting locked in a tower though jsjske, it had to match the lyrics.

- nsjsk actually the lyrics probably make the Warners sound more evil than what I picture them (though I do see them as really big menaces). To be fair, in Nightmare Before Christmas, Lock Shock and Barrel sing this whole song about torturing Santa Claus, only to just put a bag on him and give it to Jack directly. That's probably all that the Warners are gonna do in the end, maybe play with him for a bit but eh. (WB will not pay for psychological damages).

- I didn't plan a motive as to why the clown wants Mickey. Uhhhhh blackmail? Idk, feel free to come up with a reason.

- I always drew the Warners with fangs, you can see my other videos and old fanart on Tumblr. When the reboot was still airing, I drew like it looking like canine teeth, but originally I really liked drawing the cartoonish fangs like you see here, and recently I decided to start doing that again.

I think that's it! Probably a lot of grammatical mistakes (it's 5:40 AM), but I'm not editing this sjkeje. All I have left to say is I GOT TWO COMMENTS ABOUT THIS BEING A 18+ VIDEO, GUYS WATCH THE VIDEO BEFORE COMMENTTING WDYMMMM. THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH THUMBNAIL, YOUR BRAIN IS JUST ROTTING.

[xannador]

Thank you!

A big thank you to everyone who got a copy of Mostly (h)Armless! I think that for an obscure little fancomic it did really well! About 30 copies have gone where none can ever take them away again. I've also finally received my own version and I am happy about the quality.

I've now unpublished it but turns out you can never entirely take a book off the store once published. You can't edit it to be something else either. (which is what I had hoped to do, I have a bunch of unpublished original comics lying around). So it's just kinda going to sit there for all eternity, unavailable for sale. I sincerely hope it won't give me problems later on.

Anyway, if anyone is curious about one day printing their own comics, here are a few things I have noticed that I will definitely remember for my future printing endeavors:

Most glow and blending effects like Lighten, Color dodge, Hard Light, Linear dodge (add), etc don't look that nice in print despite looking awesome in digital.

Make your line art thick enough.

soft shading looks bad, cell shading looks good. (But it's better to fully fill shapes with a contrasting color rather than doing fancy lighting.)

Consider shading in black rather than color. (optional)

Details and soft lines are usually lost and a waste of time (Mostly in case of a colored book. Black and white may be different)

Keep panels spaced far enough apart.

Draw big panels. Small panels aren't as nice to look at and the eyes are naturally drawn to the larger panels.

Gradients don't look very nice either. Unless they have a light color.

Vintage comic textures and effects actually looks nicer in print than digital (which surprised me).

In dark scenes, rim lights are essential to make the character pop out. M(h)A would've looked like ass if I hadn't added those.

Stay away from the borders of your page, especially the left and right ones. Not just for the text but for the drawings too.

Keep track of which side of your page will be closest to the spine, keep a distance from that side especially. Because your book will be folded and part of the page will be hidden (the thicker your book, the more will be lost).

fancy panel compositions are cooler in digital...

contrast contrast contrast...

Don't be afraid to use pure black a lot.

Don't be afraid to use white a lot.

The 3D shake effect is also not that cool on print. But looks gorgeous on digital.

To myself… keep the font size consistent…

If text is outside a text bubble, it should have a high contrast stroke

Text should always be high contrast in general.

Motion blur is really cool in digital but not so much on print.

Keep black silhouettes black, avoid adding any kind of subtle glow or texture.

Text bubbles can have color but they should be light (again high contrast) watch out for saturated green or blue or red. Test in greyscale. Contrast should be more than 70%.

Line art should not be colored. Keep it black for print.

Hard borders are better than soft borders. On everything.

white panel borders are better than black panel borders.

But white borders with a black stroke are probably the best (cause more contrast).

Again light colors are better than dark colors. To do dark scenes it might be better to just use black and contrast with a lighter color.

Line art perfection is not that interesting, especially in regards to hard surface shapes like robots. (Might be personal taste though. I enjoyed looking at robots with messier line art more than those where I did perfect brush strokes.)

Beware dark blue and purple...

Compositions and colors of both the left and right page should always fit together. I think I did that pretty well here at least.

If possible make your total amount of comic pages devisable by 4. (so 24 pages total, or 28, or 96, you get the idea) not including the cover and back. Or else add a little extra drawing to fill the remaining pages.

I think that's about everything I can see based on my own print. I'm sure that a fair few of the things that I found looking worse in print than digital could be resolved by just being... better at converting your files. There's the whole CMYK color mode thing but in my personal experience that has been such a pain to work with, and each time my prints looked worse attempting to convert the file rather than had I just left it in RBG and let the printer do the guessing work for me.

So if you're like me and you're hopeless at this technical mumbo jumbo printing stuff, I think just avoiding the things I mentioned while drawing should get you well under way to having a nice print. The most important thing to remember is that digital and physical media are two entirely different beasts and if you are interested in getting your comics printed it's easier to adapt your workflow to that from the start rather than going back and altering. A lot of the mistakes I made here are rookie ones and I should have known better. But it's very easy to get lost in the process once you've started. I hope to improve my next print significantly. Once I can make RBG look good, I might try CMYK again.... Maybe. Potentially. No.

Hope these tips can be of service to somebody. They'll be a useful archive for myself in any case. If anyone wants me to elaborate more on a specific point, I'm happy to explain.

[artsartblog]

I ended up turning a random doodle into a tadc au. It was mostly just a swapped arrival au, where I swapped the order of when characters arrived, while being a slight personality swap au.

I have listed who each person is swapped with meanwhile Caine is just Caine lol.

Pomni has been swapped with Jax

Jax has been swapped with Ragatha

Ragatha has been swapped with Zooble

Gangle has been swapped with Kinger

Zooble has been swapped with Pomni

Kinger has been swapped with Gangle

Tbh I just was doing some fun design changes because I wanted to so I don’t have a lot thought out for this. So I hope you enjoy these designs.

I do have some thoughts for this though:

• Gangle can switch between her masks - similarly to the mayor from The Nightmare Before Christmas. She also tends to forget things which can affect her mood, but mostly she’s just happily vibing and drawing. Though most of her drawings are things she usually has trouble remembering as a way of trying to keep some record of those memories. She very obviously to the way Pomni acts.

• Pomni does still have her anxieties, but is able to cover them up with her need to satisfy her own need for entertainment even if it’s by acting like a bitch towards others. Though she’s nicer to Gangle, or less likely to target her because Gangle isn’t very reactive towards the things Pomni does.

• Kinger can still, be spacey but in the more silly airhead kind of way instead of not being able to remember things. He never takes the way Pomni acts to heart, even if it does hurt that he’s the main source of her entertainment. His robe actually has a hood to it, but he doesn’t always wear the hood.

• Jax is still sassy, but is a lot more kinder and friendly. He is pretty much older brother coded - trying to make sure everyone is having fun during adventures and protective of others from Pomni’s actions. He does his best at helping Zooble feel comfortable in the circus.

• Ragatha would much rather be on her own, or hanging out with Kinger, instead going on Caine’s adventures. She tends to go off on her own just spending her time doing anything to make herself feel like she’s not stuck as a rag doll in a digital world.

• Zooble isn’t as anxious as canon!Pomni, but they do experience great body dysmorphia and are constantly trying to find a way out of the circus. They know there’s an exit, but don’t know how to find it. Though they try not to focus on that too much - instead more focused on finding a way to feel comfortable with how they look since everything they try just feels wrong. Most of the adventures allow them to not think about it consciously, but it never goes away.

That’s all I’ve got. Maybe I’ll draw a version of my oc Odette for this, but idk. Either way this was just a silly thing. I had fun with drawing this because I just went off vibes and just didn’t really think. Hope you all enjoy them like I do :3

As always have a wonderful day and stay creative!

[tgmsunmontue]

Saga of Solitude 5/21

Nepo!Baby Bradley and his life at USNA and afterwards. DADT fully in force. IceMav AU. (Begun prior to 'It's not who you know' - the non-angsty version).

PROLOGUE (He remembers)

HANGSTER FIRST MEETING (Lonely Nights - set 2009)

Updating ~weekly (longer chapters).

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

ONE (2000) TWO (2001) THREE (2002) FOUR (2003)

CHAPTER FIVE – 2004

              He spends three weeks in a submarine and it helps cement his decision to attend flight school, if they accept his application. There is of course the natural competition between everyone, it’s simply how they function, each striving to be better, make those around them better, but also support them and drag them through it if they have to. His third year at USNA wraps up and he’s facing his summer break. The entire year has gone well, no terrorist attacks, although there is definite heightened security since.

              The routine is easy now, he’s an upperclassman, has Natasha and then a smaller circle of people he considers friends, if nothing close to what he has with Natasha. He’s aware that a significant chunk of upperclassmen think that he and Natasha are together, and the one time he checks in with her about whether she’s okay with that she’d just shrugged and said it had stopped the guys expecting her to pay any of them attention. No one asks, and they never correct anyone. When they head out to have leave together no one bats an eye. When they mention having spent some of the previous summer together it’s the same.

              He finds out why Natasha doesn’t talk to her family. Teenage pregnancy. She’d refused to get married to the guy, someone she won’t even tall Bradley the name of, and the shame of either the pregnancy, or their daughter not obeying them, they’d kicked her out. Her application with USNA had already been accepted, her place guaranteed and Bradley doesn’t need to ask to realize what her decision must have been. He briefly feels awful about introducing Tamsin and Petra to her, but she seems to take great joy in chatting to them on the phone and drawing and sending them pictures, so he lets that guilt melt away.

              They’ve both been asked to return to USNA and assist as upperclassmen for Plebe Summer, something he feels immense pride in, glad to have made a good enough impression that he’s being held up as a role model to the new recruits. Of course it makes their leave almost non-existent and they decide to spend it together, which he knows will only fuel rumors that they’re a couple. They go to San Francisco for five days at the start of their leave, and he finally gets to meet Natasha’s sole family member that has anything to do with her, and the way his eyes travel up Bradley’s body leave him blushing furiously. That he’s hot doesn’t help at all.

              “Oh, it is nice to meet you,” Christopher says, shaking his hand and Bradley looks to Natasha with a raised eyebrow and she’s just shaking her head.

              “Nice to meet you too. Bradley.”

              “Mmm. I have heard a lot about you. She didn’t ever mention just how delightful you looked.”

              “Because to me, he isn’t very delightful to look at. There are nicer views.”

              “Hey!” Bradley objects, out of principle more than anything, and Natasha is already cackling and pushing past Christopher with her bags but Christopher is looking at him seriously, completely different to the over-the-top flirtation of a moment ago.

              “Oh my god. You’re…” Christopher makes a limp-wrist gesture which sends Bradley’s eyebrows up in surprise.

              “Uh. Don’t ask don’t tell…” he says, throat tight, wondering where the fuck Natasha has gone.

              “Oh honey, I am not part of your weird cultish military shit. And I wasn’t asking, I was confirming. Holy shit. No wonder Tadpole likes you so much.”

              “Tadpole?”

              “Shut up!” Natasha calls out and Bradley grins.

              “I’ll tell you the story later,” Christopher says, voice low and conspiratory and Bradley nods, hitching his bag over his shoulder. Christopher jerks his head toward where Natasha can be heard grumbling. “Sorry, only got the one guest room. She’s already claimed the bed probably, so you’re on an air mattress.”

              “That’s fine, not the worst place I’ve slept by far.”

              “You’re my guest, I’d like to hope not. I’ll let you guys get settled then we can head out and find some food.”

              He leaves Bradley at the door and Natasha is smirking at him.

              “You couldn’t have told me?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

              “Sorry, his sexuality isn’t exactly something I drop into casual conversation. We’re at USNA remember. Repression is being ingrained into us.”

              “Okay, would you hate me if I asked him out?”

              “No. But his boyfriend might.”

              “Oh. Yeah. Okay.”

              “They can take you clubbing. I’m sure you’ll find ways of enjoying yourself here.”

              She’s right, and she’s smug about it. During the days they do touristy things and just spend time relaxing, occasionally working out. In the evenings Christopher and his boyfriend Patrick take them dancing or clubbing. Natasha comes along once, but then tells them she doesn’t want to sit around getting hit on by anyone so instead either goes to the movies or stays at Christopher’s apartment.

              He’s spent previous weeks on leave in New York, having sex with strangers, but this is a completely different experience. One he’s not going to forget in a hurry. For a start he has never had so much sex in such a short period of time, and it’s good sex, the guys that Christopher sends his way clearly more experienced and keen to give him good experiences or teach him how to give better blow jobs. It’s like each of the guys has undergone a screening process, and when one slips that he’s an ex of Patrick’s he realizes that maybe they have been. He can’t bring himself to care, not when he’ benefitting and enjoying it all.

…           …           …

              They get to Ice’s house and there’s a welcome home party and he can’t believe how big Tamsin and Petra have grown. It’s a vastly different experience to their brief time in San Fransisco but he’s glad they have two weeks and Natasha seems to take her role as surrogate big sister seriously, the four of them watching movies, or lying around with slices of cucumber over their eyes. Sarah snaps a picture of them like that, gets it printed and gives copies to both him and Natasha, along with a pile of other photos she’s taken while they’ve been staying.

              Of course, his birthday comes and he’s twenty-one. Maverick hands over an envelope and a key and he looks at it blankly.

              “What’s this?”

              “The deed to the house. It’s to go to you on your twenty-first birthday.”

              “But… what am I going to do with a house?”

              “Live in it?”

              “But… I’ll be deployed or away…”

              “Bradley, it’s the house your parents bought. What you do with it is up to you. I’d like to still live there of course…”

              “Of course! I mean, if you’re not moving in with Ice, then of course you can stay there. It’s just… nothing has to change right? It’s just a piece of paper?”

              “It’s just a piece of paper. And we’ll help navigate any legal stuff. And we won’t be moving in together any time soon,” Ice states, voice soft, but his expression is sad and Bradley wishes things were different.

…           …           …

              Tom wants to wrap himself around Maverick and never let him go. The amount he’s been away on deployment makes every moment they have together even more precious, and he’s starting to second guess his own rules, even if they’ve kept them both safe. He has two kids and an ex-wife which is a damned good cover, even if his best friend comes and stays frequently. He isn’t telling anyone that doesn’t already know, and no one is asking him, even if they have their suspicions.

              He hates the fact that Pete is now effectively homeless, not that Bradley would ever kick him out of the house, but Tom wants him to have somewhere that is his, and maybe not his alone, but something that would just light Pete up from the inside. The way flying does. He pauses mid-thought and thinks back to a couple of years ago, the Beechcraft and the airstrip, Mav taking Bradley up in the air. Huh. Not a plane, not yet, but there were hangars out there. And a hangar beside an airstrip is probably somewhere Pete would consider living if he thought it was a legitimate option. Not that he himself would want to live beside an airstrip, but this isn’t about him.

              He makes a few calls. Then a few more calls. He’s got to consider leases, and taxes and whether it might just make more sense to rent. He doesn’t want to rent though, wants to make some sort of large gesture and present it as a fait accompli that gives Maverick no wiggle-room to turn it down. He feels pretty confident it wouldn’t be turned away regardless, unless Mav was feeling particularly difficult on the day. Then he gets a call, someone had heard he was looking, and it’s an old Navy hangar, located at the very same airstrip and it feels serendipitous and he agrees to come out and have a look.

…           …           …

              Of course, with how much mentoring he’s doing with the Plebes come the questions, and he remembers his conversation with Ice, a couple of years ago now. When they ask him questions about his parents he simply pulls a face and shakes his head, ignores his own peers, fellow Firsts, who he can see from the corner of his eye who were shaking their heads at the Plebes, trying to stop them from simply asking.

              “My dad was a naval aviator who died in a Top Gun training incident in eighty-six and my mom died of cancer in ninety-four. I was raised by my step-father after that. Any other awkward questions you want answers to?”

              It’s probably why they never ask him or Natasha anything, and another First slaps the Plebe on the back, mutters I tried to warn you off asking but he doesn’t feel upset about it at all. It’s not at all a lie, even if his step-father would be here in a heartbeat if Bradley needed him to be. He knows that both Ice and Mav intend to attend his graduation in formal roles, and while they might night get to acknowledge their roles with each other in such a formal setting he doesn’t care. They want to be there and they’re planning to be there, special leave already requested and granted long ago, considering they’ll be in uniform.

              He and Natasha both work hard, both at their studies and also on their physical fitness. Their applications for flight school were submitted months ago, he really wants to go with her, can’t imagine not going without her. They’re both consistently in the top two or five percent, which he knows bodes well for them. Knows that their involvement with extra curriculars and being friendly with pretty much everyone has them well liked and respected. He just has to be patient and wait.

…           …           …

              They both look at the envelopes, slapping them on empty palms. They look identical, but unlike his USNA acceptance letter, this is a single piece of paper and it could be flight school acceptance, or a decline.

              “On the count of three?” Natasha asks and Bradley admires her courage.

              “Yeah. Three.”

              They rip them open.

…           …           …

              “I knew it!” Maverick screams, his joy palpable through the phone for their Saturday afternoon call. “Ice! Ice! He got in! Hold on, let me put you on speaker…”

              “Of course he did… well done Bradley. Congratulations.”

              He blows out a long breath, because he’s glad they have seemingly unshakeable confidence in his abilities. God, he never wants to disappoint them.

              “Thanks. Natasha got in as well.”

              “She’s a very capable young woman. Proud of you both. Please pass that on to her.”

              “Yeah, thanks. I will.”

              “Yeah, we’re both very proud. You can go back to work now. I’m going to go outside and talk to my godson…”

              He hears Ice mutter something in the background, not clear enough to make out, but then Mav is telling him off for rolling his eyes and he can just imagine what he said, the gentle laughter between them and he can’t help but smile.

              “So. did Ice tell you he bought me a hangar?”

              “He did what?” Bradley asks, because such a move seems like something Mav would make, rather than Ice.

              “He bought me a hangar. Said that I was obviously always welcome wherever he was, but that he knew I needed my own place and that I now had a space for the plane I’ve been eyeing up.”

              “You’ve been eying up a plane? Wait. A hangar. For you to live in? What about the house? You aren’t moving out are you?”

              “No. Of course not. But I’m going to be there as often as you are, probably less considering Ice has become a lot more, uh, relaxed about his stupid sleepover rules. The hangar isn’t currently habitable anyway. But there’s this P-51 Mustang I’ve been looking at. It’s beautiful.”

              “He proposed to you with an aircraft hangar. Oh my god, that’s so… romantic and practical of him.”

              “He didn’t propose.”

              “Mav. If a guy bought me an aircraft hangar what would you think about the guy?”

              “That he was crazy in love with you, and utterly committed… oh shit. I’ll call you back.”

              He is not surprised when he doesn’t get called back.

…           …           …

              He hadn’t expected it.

              They hadn’t warned him.

              The emotions of the day, coupled with the fact that they’d asked every single member of the 1986 Top Gun class there, along with a few other friends of both his parents. He clearly has the biggest cheering section and he feels like a mess inside, although outwardly he’s all smiles and calm togetherness. Four years of training helps with that at least. Ice and Mav are both up on the stage, part of the VIP section, along with several others who are still serving, and he recognizes them from his birthday a couple of years ago.

              “Did you know they were all going to be here?” Natasha asks, and he shakes his head, throat working against the tightness of his collar.

              There are photos, Ice agreeing to so many photos with newly minted graduates and Bradley lets them all go, fights his way through the crowds to find Mav. He and Ice can stage photos later, there will always be times when they’re in uniform. Just the fact that they’re here is more than enough and he’s so happy that he has had them supporting him every step of the way.

              “Captain Mitchell.”

              “Midshipman Bradshaw. Congratulations. Your father would be very proud. I flew with him you know?”

              Bradley blinks.

              Blinks again.

              Hopes his internal dialogue somehow is being telepathically beamed into Mav’s head.

              You are such a dick. Hopefully his expression does enough to convey his exasperation.

              “Really? I didn’t know that sir.”

              Mav gives him a shit-eating grin and Bradley wishes Ice were there to hit him around the head. Not that he would, not in this setting, but damn he sees why he’s always so tempted.

              “I’m going to have a photo with all the graduates who are going to be heading off to Corpus Christi for flight school. I think they want us over there.”

              It’s chaos. Positive and energetic happiness with everyone feeling the sense that they’re about to begin their careers, that they’ve made it through what is meant to be the hardest part, even if Bradley secretly thinks flight school might be even more challenging, it’s only for eighteen months. He manages to get photos with Maverick, Natasha and Ice and nearly every available combination. Then there are photos with the 1986 class, and he ignores the fact that several of the other men seem to shed a tear.

              Then it’s dispersing, the crowd thinning and families are gathering, taking more photos and he can see Sarah pushing through, the hands of Tamsin and Petra clasped and he grins, starts heading toward them, already thinking that Tamsin has grown a couple of inches, can see both his sisters pulling Sarah toward them before she decides to let them go.

              “Natasha! Natasha!” Petra screams, and she’s running across the quad, hair streaming behind her with gold and navy ribbons mixed in, running past him and Natasha is grinning broadly, bending down to swoop Petra up in a hug. Bradley stands back up from where he’d been just about to scoop her up himself before she’d breezed past him.

              “Wow,” he says to Sarah as she comes to a stop to stand beside him.

              “Hurts doesn’t it?” Sarah says, not really asking and Bradley nods, murmuring a quiet yeah under his breath. He doesn’t begrudge Natasha the joy and love of his sisters, love isn’t in finite supply, it’s just a little hurtful to not even warrant a hello. He has to remind himself that Petra is only seven.

              “I love you Bradley,” Tamsin says, arms coming around his waist to give him a hug, as if she can tell how he’s feeling and he hugs her back.

              “Love you too Tam.”

              “You’re dressed up all fancy like Daddy and Papa.”

              “Yeah. You look pretty fancy in your dress too. Is that new?”

              “Yep. Mom bought is especially for today!”

              “We can look fancy together.”

              “Congratulations Bradley, we’re all very proud of you.”

              “Thanks.”

              “Are you proud of me? I go to school too,” Tamsin says, and Sarah looks heavenward and Bradley wonders if she’s been fielding questions like this for a while.

              “I’m proud of you, going to school can be really hard work somedays,” Bradley says.            

              “Daddy!” Tamsin says, and then Ice is there, pressing his cheek against Sarah’s in greeting and nodding at Bradley again.

              “Bradley! Up!” Petra demands, appearing at his side and Natasha is grinning.

              “Hello to you too Miss Petra, happy to be of service.”

              There are a few people doing a double take as they see who he is standing with, who he is clearly family with, but he cares less now. He’s finished here, no one can claim he played any favoritism card. He knows flight school will be different, wants to be in the air as soon as possible.

              He can’t wait.

CHAPTER SIX (2005)

[artthemasquerade]

My Lord, you are safe, you are home

I always felt like when Ryo was made to remember that he was Satan by Psycho Jenny he didn't take it so easily, after all he had just been told that his entire life as Ryo Asuka was a complete lie and he was the leader of the very demons he and Akira were trying to stop. It would be an hell of adjustment period at the very least for him! And I'd imagine he'd likely break down in tears in both horror and relief that he wasn't going crazy the whole time after all! I can see Psycho Jenny being willing to comfort her overwhelmed lord to the best of her abilities. I thought I'd have a go at drawing the Amon OVA version of Jenny even though its one of my least favorite designs of her, I kind of mixed the Amon OVA design with her manga version a little to make it a little nicer. XD

Btw if you like what you see and want a commission drop me a direct message on tumblr, instagram, a note on deviantart or artistree https://artistree.io/missn11

[bekaroth-reads]

Astarion x Reader

[I’ve finally gotten some time to play the full version of BG 3, unfortunately not enough to get past what was available in the early release versions. Hopeful to write more characters when I run into them. For the time being, though, I’m more than happy to show love for everyone’s favorite vampire. Technically a x reader, but also sort of for x Tav too. Not proof read, my tablet’s about to die and I want to get this up, lol]

The rain was steadily coming down. It wasn’t flood levels or anything drastic like that, but there was enough that you didn’t want to go out unless you absolutely had to. You were thankful that the tent you had gotten ended up being a nicer one that kept all of the water out. You weren’t the only one thankful for that either.

Astarion, seeing how clouded over the sky was, refused to budge an inch. The others in the group wanted to keep going, not finding a chance of rain a good reason to stall progress, especially seeing as the next town was only about a day or so away. You had volunteered to stay back with him, using the excuse that you didn’t think anyone in the group should be left alone. In all honesty, you didn’t feel like being caught in the rain either.

It seemed like you made the right call too. You were wondering if you had been overly cautious like the others thought, but once things started to pick up you were glad you weren’t either trying to rush the rest of the way to the town or setting up tents in the rain.

Your vampiric traveling partner had himself sat snuggly in the tent, not risking getting caught in too much water moving too quickly. While Astarion did have a tent of his own, the one that you had gotten was more waterproof, so he insisted that he be allowed to stay in it. You didn’t have too much of a problem with that as there was enough room in the tent for both of you.

Or at least you didn’t think you did. Now that you were out here in the rain checking on the pikes that were holding the tent down while he was comfortable and dry inside, you were starting to think you weren’t too much better off than everyone else. Finally, after walking around the tent to make sure everything was still tightly fastened down, you finally went back inside.

“Oh, for-“ Astarion exclaimed as you opened the tent, “Close the bloody door!”

“The door?” You question as you take off your boots and your cloak off at the front of the tent.

“You know what I mean.” He huffed out and lounged back onto his bedroll. “I’m mean, really! I knew you could be dense but I didn’t think it was that bad-“

Astarion gave a comical, “oof,” when you threw your wet cloak onto his face.

When he pulled it from his face, his red eyes seemed to burn; you couldn’t quite tell with what emotion, but you did know something was coming.

It turned out that something was him as in a flash he had tossed the cloak aside, and pulled you down to the ground.

“Just like when we first met. What happy memories~” Astarion purred darkly as he held you down.

“I distinctly remember there being a knife involved.” You pointed out at the lack of things pointed at you.

“Mmm, you would remember that delicious, little detail. Should’ve known you were the type to enjoy that sort of thing.”

You swallowed at the lump in your throat, trying not to give him any indication that you were at all affected. You went to retort, but Astarion was quick to stop it.

“Shh, shh, shh, shh- Hush. Don’t even think about lying to me. In fact,” his hand moved up to cover your mouth, “how about you don’t speak at all. If you really want to feel something sharp of mine against your throat, duckling~”

Astarion leaned closer, grinned so that his pearly, white fangs peeked out from his lips, and hummed, “I’ve got the perfect, little tools right here.”

There was a slight gasp from his mouth when he opened it wide enough to properly bare his fangs that seemed to magically draw one from you. The chill from his skin sent a shiver down your spine as his cheek brushed against your jaw. His lips brushed against your neck-

-and his index finger moved up from your mouth to your nose, gave it a tap, and giggled a mischievous, “Honk,” into your neck.

Astarion leaned back to sit up and squished your cheeks. “Oh, you should see your face. Absolutely priceless.” He snickered.

Astarion groaned and leaned back onto his elbows, “Listen, I gave something a chance and it didn’t pan out.”

You shooed his hand away from your face and moved over to your bed roll and rolled your eyes. “Sure, if you say so…” then something struck you as you smirked yourself, “Duckling.”

He brushed his fingers through his mess of white curls, but stopped part way as he came to his own realization. “Or… perhaps it worked better than your letting on. It seems memorable at least.”

“Well, so was that dinner we had a few nights ago, but that doesn’t mean it’s good.” You retort.

“Fair enough.”

There was a spell of silence between the two of you with nothing but the sound of the rain hitting the tent with the occasional rumble of distant thunder. It was broken when Astarion gave a drawn out, dramatic whine.

You lied down on your bedroll and acted like you didn’t notice him staring at you. “Well, it seemed like someone should have taken the opportunity when he had it earlier.”

“Speaking of dinner,” he turned to look at you, his garnet eyes reflecting his hunger, “I’m positively famished.”

Astarion moved so that he was closer to you; while technically leaning over you again, it was more playful than predatory. He ran his hand under your chin to catch your attention and turn your head to look at him. “You have no idea how tempted I was to do so.” He sighed.

“Careful, or I might start to think your getting attached to me.” You teased, but there was not bite to it.

Astarion chuckled, a mostly light chuckle with a twinge of a bitter aftertaste. “Don’t get too cocky. I’m never more than friendly acquaintance with anyone.” He pinched your cheek and gave it a little shake. “Even you, my little duckling.”

It seemed that the two of you had quickly formed an inside joke from his attempts at a pet name.

Still not to be completely overcome by his charms, you pushed back with, “Of course. That’s why you were so eager to be so close to me a bit ago.”

“A tactical maneuver.” He brushed it off.

“And, have been flirting with me.”

“What’s a little flirting between friend—ly acquaintances.” He cleared his throat to try and act like he didn’t almost slip up and show attachment.

“And, why you’ve been wanting to bite me the whole evening.”

“And, still do.” He rolled so he was once again pinning you, propping himself up on his arms so he could still look you in the eyes, his usual, suave demeanor making its return.

You instinctively placed your hand on the crook of his neck, which he adored in the secrecy of his own mind. Astarion was more than pleased that he seemed to have flustered you into silence as he brushed his cheek against yours, and whispered, his fang brushing against your ear,

“Now, be good and indulge me in a friendly, little,”

His lips moved to your hammering, stuttering pulse point as he purred,

“Nibble~”

[orange-artist]

HIIII DID U KNOW YOUR "Dangerous" Epic animatic is by far my FAVEEEE <333 pls I aspire to be such a super good and cool artist like you. I saw you used Clip studio Ex and then storyboard pro. I was kinda wondering how you work on your animatics step by step? From a senior artist like yourself to a little junior like me. If it's alright to find out your work process- I want to try and get into the world of epic animatics too (You're one of the artists that inspired me to do so) SO LOVE U SMM!!!! And THANKKK YOUUUU for bringing such a masterpiece like that into Youtube!!

A hug for being such a cool artist >>>>

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK! I can't even say I'm a senior artist but that you 😭🙏

About this in particular! I am actually currently working on a, bts video that shows my old scrapped version of Dangerous and my workflow for animatics! Hopefully I'll be able to make that in the next three-ish weeks 😭🤞 so for other people curious about my process and stuff, look for out for that as well!

It's pretty difficult to explain this stuff just through text. But here's a general gist of it!

I typically go through five steps - storyboard, rough layout, lineart, inbetween/breakdowns, and color!

Storyboard - planning out major beats I want to hit in the animatic, aka plotting out the story of the animatic

Layout - where does the camera go, how does each scene connect? I also draw myself movement lines to remember what I want to animate/add breakdowns for later

Lineart - I found it was easier to do my clean lineart before breakdowns so I clean up all my layout sketches and draw my backgrounds

Breakdowns - adding inbetween frames to communicate movement between key poses. This is where we see speed of movement, flow, arcs, etc. Imo this is where thing start looking cool

Color/tone - Color to make shapes pop! Making sure foreground element and background element don't distract from the focus point

Bonus! Editing - Camera focus shifts, camera shakes/small movements, color grading, timing edits, motion blur, etc. Any additional effects to make everything look nicer! (I didn't do much of this in Dangerous as I actually really rushed that animatic Ahaha)

I hope this help and I hope you'll check out my video when I get that made! 🥰🥰🥰

[necromancy-savant]

I really hope my history professor from undergrad is still alive. Idk if he remembers me, but I remember him. He said I was the only student in all his years of teaching to say "I want to learn Akkadian." But that's not quite accurate: what I said was, "hey, I've been working through this book (it was Caplice) over winter break every day and I'm on chapter 8 and I think I'm doing ok, but I have some questions. Can you help me out?" And he was very impressed, I think. He answered all my questions; told me I got all the translations as correct as you can get them. He called me Lugal Edward, Sumerian for "king." He gave me printouts of all of Hammurabi's laws. He lent me his sign list that had every historical version of every single cuneiform sign ever. It was in French, but that didn't matter; I knew exactly what to do with a sign list. That summer I would skateboard to the library with my books and spend a few hours translating Hammurabi's laws. I developed my own cuneiform shorthand that only I know bc I wasn't about to literally draw out every santakku every single time. I went on a field trip to Yale with a few people from the class and we used real cylinder seals. I got to use a stylus much nicer than the one I made at home from chopsticks to write with. He pointed out to me on their replica Hammurabi the signs I knew and I could read it. On my 24th birthday, (he didn't know it was my birthday until I admitted it late in the day) he took me to a lecture at Yale by Stephanie Dalley who authored my favorite collection of translations of Mesopotamian myths. I got to meet her and meet all the guys I'd read all the books by (it's not a huge field so you do get to know who's who pretty quickly.) And he bragged about me to all of them. It was the best birthday ever. After Hammurabi, I worked my way up to translating historical texts and some of my favorite myths on my own. In grad school I finally got my hands on Enuma Elish. I didn't have as much time as I would have wanted to sit and translate it, what with my actual coursework, but I did go over my favorite parts. It was the myth that made me want to learn the language in the first place. I hope to god that he's alive and that I can reach out to him still - because forget all of that, literally: I had a bad life before I went to that school and I've made nothing of myself since I left grad school. But he made me feel like I was really worth something, and I want more than anything to thank him for that

[timefadesaway]

hmmmmm i have mixed thoughts but i think ultimately im fine with it all. i would have preferred a conventional regeneration for a couple of reasons (i think it would have served ncuti a bit better going forward and also in terms of narrative it’d be nice if we got a sort of nicer version of ten’s regeneration where he’s ready and with donna) but i do think the bigeneration is kind of a way to leave those long plots no one remembers in the past and have the doctor move on without a lot of baggage that wld make them a difficult character to write if ur trying to essentially reset the show. u can leave it all with fourteen and start (mostly) fresh bc it happened thru a lens of healing (and regeneration was always about healing and revitalisation wasn’t it…). it leaves a loose end but it’s still serving a purpose and that is to draw a story to a close. PLUS the part of me that watched ten regenerate when i was ten years old and cried is happy that he’s fine and retired with donna. it was clumsy and a bit cop-outy to not kill fourteen but there’s a happy ending for all the bullshit as we say goodbye to old-new who with DT and then the doctor moves forward with demonstrable love for their past self which we haven’t seen before. we’re starting again!! and seeing fifteen in the tardis at the end and the previews for christmas…it looks fresh and fun again and im hopeful :) um whatever idk why i wrote all this. to just say that i thought it was fine and i look forward to seeing ncuti at christmas

[bonefall]

Translation attempt of some of my warrior ocs

Ochrestar- this is actually a tricky one. He was named because he has a similar colour to ochre, but also because he's strong, so rreen (yellow orange) and glefp (clay) work here. I can't remember if I'm allowed to have to prefix words in names.

So. Rreenglefpshai?

(yelloworange-clay-star)

Amberblaze- was named for colour, so kemree. And I think swarfyf fits best for the suffix. Kemreeswarfyf.

(orange-spread of fire)

Meadowwhisper- I can't find a good word for meadow. There doesn't seem to be words for specific kinds of biomes in the document. I guess I could use grass, but I want it imply lots of grass. Kiyyr. There is a word for whisper, hhass(Also you do have a homonym! Sneak and whisper are both hhass.)

Kiyyrhhass.

(grass-whisper)

Streamwish- stream is shush, and for wish I could use want(sskif), or dream(faeln)

Shushsskif sounds nicer, but I feel like using dream would convey the meaning better. If there was an individual word for wish, I feel like it would have some relation to starclan(wishing on a star), so shai would be in the word somewhere. Sskialn?

I'm going to go with dream for now.

Shushfaeln

(stream-dream)

Or

Shush-sskialn

(stream-wish)

Tsunamikit- lalm for wave. Could add morrwo(large). Mew for kit. If I'm fusing words, i could go for lalmwo I guess.

Lalmwomew

(large wave-kit)

Or

Morrwolalmmew

(large-wave-kit)

Neonkit- something about bright colours. This cat is yellow, so I'll go for that. Aween. Could also do shayu(light source). I think the name is more about the light here.

Shayumew

(light source-kit)

Leokit- raor(lion)

Raormew

(lion-kit)

Volepaw- mole(bosgo), and paw(pwyr)

Bosgopwyr

(mole-paw)

Foxpaw- fox(aowao)

Aowaopwyr

(fox-paw)

Swanpaw- swan(hchom)

Hchommew

(swan-paw)

Dandelionshine- there only seems to be dandelion coloured, not the plant, but she is named for her colour. Aween(dandelion coloured). Shimmer seems like a good substitute for shine. Sheniss(shimmer)

Aweensheniss

(dandelion coloured-shimmered)

Barktalon- karak is bark, there's no talon, but kach is claw, which is the same thing.

Karakkach

(bark-claw)

Crystalstep- there is word for crystal. What I want here is something like shimmering rock. I could take liberties here and use shimmered+stepping stone, including the step and the rock part. Ssabassrob(stepping stone)

Shenissssabassrob

(shimmered+stepping stone)

i forget how tense works, or otherwise I would change the tense here.

Stormstrike-i could just use storm, but I like ke'eb(squall) better for this character. Kachkubo(struck) wrong tense but that's fine.

Ke'ebkachkubo

(squall+struck)

A lot here! Let me go down through each cat that's getting new words for ya;

Ochrestar

I asked around to make sure that Ochre is region-compliant, and it absolutely is! Though ochre is a crumbly, pigmented sort of dirt. To name him for something "strong," I'd actually keep the translation you came up with. A Glepf is a natural source of clay, like a specific bank, lido, or cave.

A Glepf is a landmark. Ochre and Clay are materials that you can get from the Glepf. It's sort of like the Clanmew version of a word for 'quarry.'

Ochre (Material, not color) = Spawo

Clay = Gale

(side note: "e" is always annunciation in Clanmew. "Gale" rhymes with Olay, it doesn't sound like the English word for "gale wind")

There is also the word for "pigment," Boch, which also describes an item being used to draw with... like a big lump of ochre being dragged across a wall, for example.

Dandelionshine

Seems like you've got them covered, since they're named for colors! But if you'd like the translation to be more direct, here you go.

"Dandelion" in Clanmew is a generic term for several species, and includes associated words. All of them are used symbolically in Great Clan myths, associated with LionClan kittens.

Dandelion (Generic) = Awpo A ground plant with fluffy-petaled, yellow flowers.

Common Dandelion (Taraxacum officinale) = Raorra The one we all know and love! VERY important as a medicinal herb. High in lots of nutrients, it's often given as a supplement to sick cats just to get some extra vitamins in them. It's one of the most important diuretics for cats having a hard time going to the bathroom, and can be baked and ground up for use as a traveling herb.

Puff/Clock/Blowball = Fahoo The fluffy, seedy stage that a common dandelion progresses to later in the summer. Used for a cute kitten game done between mutual crushes.

Nipplewort (Lapsana communis) = Mawpo OR Soop-en-Simra (Soop-en-Simra = Breast's Friend) Named because of its very important use in treating nursing cats with mastitis or cracked teats. VERY important in winter, practically a godsend.

Hawksbeard (several species) = Nakpo The waste-dandelion. None of these have use in medicine, and are thus seen as flowers that are simply aesthetically pleasing.

Neon, Vole, Talon, Crystal, Amber

If you're looking for intense colors, there's a word for that in Clanmew. Yaywi, or "Bright," refers to bright colors and high saturation. It's in contrast to Loerr, which is dim-colored or "Dark," and "Olurr" for softer, pastel colors.

Brightheart's name could have been translated as Neonheart-will-beat, or Intenseheart-will-beat. Yaywibabi.

For Vole, there are THREE types of voles Clan cats see on a regular basis. Field Voles (Wind), Bank Voles (Thunder) and Water Voles (River). Banks and Fields are known for digging "furrows" in the ground to make quick getaways, like open-air mole tunnels.

Field Vole (Microtus agrestis) = Aaga As the name suggests, tends to live in open fields like meadows and moorland. It's also fond of bogs. Tastes a bit more oily than a Bank vole but not nearly as much as a water vole, which can still be offputting to some WindClan warriors.

Bank Vole (Clethrionomys glareolus) = Eai A good climber and the vole usually seen in ThunderClan. Widely considered the most palatable and least oily, tastes like a really good mouse.

Water Vole (Arvicola amphibius) = Rubu VERY oily, tastes like a fish. The only mammal that RiverClan cats like to eat on a regular basis. Minks are notorious for killing these in mass, which leads to Clan cats trying to eradicate them whenever they're seen.

The "common" word for vole depends on the Clan you're talking to. RiverClan uses "Rubu" and ThunderClan uses "Eai," and then they fix the other word onto it. "Eai Rubu" = Water vole vole. Like Naan Bread = Bread Bread

"Talon" describes the claws of most animals, which don't retract. If you popped open the hood of Clanmew, you'd see them using 'talons' for every animal that isn't a cat. "Talonclaw" has a meaning similar to "Beastly Hand."

Talon (claw of a non-feline animal) = Chaug

For Crystal, I covered rocks and their lack of Gemstones over here. The only precious "stone" they have at the moment is "pearl," because of freshwater pearl mussels! So the word for it, Rrihi, would be used to describe any other shining stones that Clan cats come across.

(Though I may be willing to create a word for quartz specifically since that's what the Moonstone is/was.)

And, lastly, for Amber... there's two words and neither of them are a direct translation.

Sap = Ssao

Resin = Aogi

"Amber" is a type of fossil, it's resin that's been exposed to high heat and pressure for millions of years. If it's not exposed for long enough, it's called "copal," and before it becomes copal it's just resin! It can to be found and collected, usually at specific beaches.

So Clan cats don't have TRUE amber. They have sap and resin, which can both be collected from trees. Amberleaf of ShadowClan could have been translated as "Resin-blade."

And, lastly, I am planning a pretty large entry on landmarks specifically so I won't make this long post even longer with words for meadow and such. There's some other asks coming out that will provide a word for 'field' and 'grassland.'

[mewshuuartblog]

i been wanting to do this for months and finally motivated my lazy ass to do it lol

anyway more bio stuff under cut!

i have 3 different 'yuu's that i alternate through might have noticed that in my comics though i tend to draw sour!miu a little more just because she has a 'idgaf' attitude which makes hilarious situations.

All

all version of miu are ambidextrous, meaning they write with both hands. sour tends to write more with her left hand.

all three prefer to eat meat but only sourmiu and miu highly prefers meat. sweet miu will eat anything aslong as its good.

all three have the same coffin icon [as seen above] wonder wat that means lol

when asked about their home land they often say its much much hotter than the scolding sands.

Sour Miu

sour miu has a strong 'i dont give a fuck' attitude and a deathglare thatll make your blood run cold.

she dosent really care that she got teleported to twisted wonderland, so she has no true desire to find a way home.

though she appears very cold, she loves grim after spending so much time with him. she also loves lucius. whether or not this mean she likes cats is unclear.

this isnt to say she dosent likes the main cast, she just prefers grim more.

her favorite hobby is spying on kids around NRC. no one knows how she does it without getting caught. not even rook

[18+] its implied that she moonlights as a 'study partner' around campus late at night. this is because crowley dosent give her enough money to last a full month, so she finds other means to obtain money. there is also other reasons why she does this but refuses to tell, however, it seems crowley is fully aware of her 'study partner' gig and is scared/refuses to stop her????

another side hobby of hers is tormenting crowley, grim also enjoys this activity.

when asked about her age she purposefully gives wrong answers. its implied shes old, but no one knows how old she is.

has an incredible sense of smell

Sweet Miu

sweet miu is similar to sour, but is waaaaaaay nicer lol

sweet miu also moonlights as a study partner, but she actual helps students who struggle in their classes. kalim frequently meets her in the library with other students late at night. this is a side gig she does get paid for and is seen as a better alternative to azul [which he loaths]

she loves to cook and has been asked by malleus on more than one occasion to help lilia [you already know how well that went without me having to tell you]

much like sourmiu, she doesn't have a real desire to go back home.

is the only one out of the 3 miu's who actually has an age, 17.

has a huge crush on azul despite his shady business practice.

in the boardgame club, she loves games of chance, cause she sucks at strategy games and often loses to azul and idia.

Miu

miu is kinda just regular, shares similar stuff to sourmiu but acts much more normal lol.

literally fell head over hills in love with malleus at first sight.

she called malleus 'horton' up till the song and dance competition. she now calls him by his real name. [with the exception of 'mal' or 'malmal']

often has to bail ace, deuce and grim out of trouble.

in the beginning, miu did wish to go home, but as time went on she came to love her friends, malleus and grim especially, and had mixed feeling on what she wanted.

for some reason, when asked about her age she keeps forgetting what she said. its become a running gag that she cant remember her age. though this has become highly suspicious.

she loves to make her own clothes and has actually created her own wardrobe along with grims herself.

has no idea what a 'herbivore' is

is deathly afraid of vegetables

[n1ko-whoisdefinatelynotacat]

Calamus

(Alright this one is fun. Here I go.)

(Niko obviously started out as an older, somewhat more sarcastic version of themself. I was originally going to have them go with N, and I remember jokingly saying I would duel someone over it. They also had some leftover trauma from the h o r r o r s, and while it wasn’t obvious, that was there. Honestly I think the most consistent things about them have been the tea addiction and the glowing eyes. Now though, they have a whole lot more on their plate. They have boosted light magic, which was kinda spontaneous if I’m being honest, they’ve been shot in the shoulder, which I think accidentally started the “let’s see what Niko gets a shoulder injury this time” thing- they have an alter, which is Hoshi, honestly they’re just not vibing. But hopefully I can be slightly nicer now-)

(Rizu, Asa, and Sage are fun. Asa and Sage didn’t even exist until after I had been at this for a while, it was really just Rizu. And she was entirely comedic relief for a while. Honestly she still kinda is, but she has more depth now. Sage I struggled with because for a while all she was character wise was her blindness. I think I’ve managed to characterize her better now, but I’m still working on it. And Asa I was originally going to have be more calm and collected, and now she’s the sarcastic angry one, so there’s that.)

([Redacted] might be the most difficult to think through. On one hand, he’s heavily influenced by myself as a person, but he’s started to become his own thing. Like he’s significantly older, he has the job I want to have eventually, honestly he’s kind of become a vision of what I hope to do, minus the whole dying more than once thing and the extra trauma. He’s also become kind of my outlet for those days where I’m mentally struggling. I sketch him a lot and I’m honestly kinda mean to him. Like I killed him a second time, which doesn’t come close to a certain other person, but that’s still two nickels. He’s fun, and I really like role playing as him and writing him. He’s actually the reason I don’t hate everything I write anymore.)

(this is getting really long but I do need to talk about Twm still. They weren’t even going to be part of this until I started to follow more world machine blogs. And then I found the one future oneshot au blog where that world machine had a tv head, and all the sudden I was drawing my own variant of Twm, and they were part of it. So they’ve changed too, and they’re progressively becoming more of a walking entity of sass the farther along I go. We’ll see how it goes.)

[shywhitemoose]

Tag Game to Better Know You

Thank you for the tag @jmobiwanspadawan  🤎

It’s been a long time since I’ve done one of these, and it was a nice distraction :)

What book are you currently reading?

Oh dear, not off to a great start. No books at the moment 😩

What’s your favourite movie you saw in theatres this year?

I.. can’t remember the last time I was in a movie theatre?

What do you usually wear?

Most days: jeans, t-shirt, compression socks, fidget necklace, sneakers or birkenstocks. When I go to the office I wear a slightly nicer version of that :)

How tall are you?

5′5″ on an ambitious day

What’s your star sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event?

Cancer. Famous birthday buddies? Nelson Mandela 💛

Do you go by your name or a nickname?

IRL, my name. On tumblr, a nice mix.

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child?

Oh gosh. I wanted to be so many things. Mother and environmental scientist were not on the list, but here I am 🤷‍♀️  I suppose I did want to be an artist, which technically I am? I just don’t like doing it for money, ha. I also wanted to be, in no particular order of preference: zookeeper, surgeon, finishing carpenter, beach bum, baker, professional bowler, tornado chaser, math teacher, lifetime peace corp volunteer, long distance trucker, firefighter.

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one?

It’s complicated, but effectively, no. And no crushes aside from fictional characters and a Swedish curler I’ve never met lol

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at?

I’m a decent artist and a terrible singer. A good baker and a mess of a public speaker.

Dogs or cats?

Both please!! I only have cats at the moment due to family preferences, but I love both. All animals, in fact. They are all so neat! 🐈🐕‍🦺🐍🕷🐇🐄🐿🦥🐳🐓🦉🦌

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favourite picture/favourite line/favourite etc. from something you created this year?

Hmm.. if we’re talking within the last year, probably the hands (Don’t Let Go). Took me ages to finish and it might actually be my favorite of any piece I’ve completed in digital medium.

For writing.. maybe this lil bit of A Plea from the Lost to the Found?

Anakin shifted again, lifted his head, and their eyes met. “Why?”

Here, staring directly into the missing half of his soul, Obi-Wan could only offer honesty. “Because I loved his father.”

They were so close. Obi-Wan could ­hear Anakin’s breath. He could feel it tangle, warm and humid, in his whiskers. For one mad moment he thought he caught Anakin glancing down to his lips, and a bizarre pang of hope shot through his lungs.

He quietly corrected himself.

“Because I love his father.”

Ok but also something more lighthearted maybe? This exchange from Out of Place still brings me a lot of joy:

“Well that’s an odd name for a galaxy.”

Anakin scoffed back, mildly offended on the Milky Way’s behalf. “Well what’s yours called?”

“I…” The man’s brow furrowed. Adorably. “Well it doesn’t have a name. It’s always just been The Galaxy.”

“Huh.” This was getting absurd. “Seems a bit pretentious, don’t you think?”

“Well—”

“If you’re from another galaxy, care to tell me how you speak English?”

“Is that what you call it here?”

“Is that what we call what here?”

“Galactic basic.”

Anakin nearly rolled his eyes. Of course. “Uh, yeah. English is what we call it.”

“Huh. Well yes, I suppose that is a bit of a mystery, isn’t it?”

“So where is this…Galaxy of yours, exactly? How did you manage to find your way out of it?”

“Oh, far, far away, I imagine. I was on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan when something pulled me from hyperspace and… well, frankly I don’t recall much after that. Until I woke up and found myself careening toward your planet, that is.”

“Huh.”

“Huh, indeed. Now. What do I call you?”

“Um, an earthling?”

Obi-Wan smiled at that, teeth gleaming. “Your name.”

What’s something you’d like to create content for?

Nothing new, just my favorite two space monks!

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with?

Gardening. Obikin.

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

winter (we had ONE lousy snow flurry, it lasted maybe 10 minutes)

What’s a hidden talent of yours?

Er, i don’t know? I can drive a stick shift? Do handstands? I have a serious knack for spotting four-leaf clovers? (They aren’t lucky, for the record.)

Are you religious?

Not so much, no. Science, nature, and art are my holy trinity :)

What’s something you wish to have at this moment?

A week alone in a cabin in the woods

No pressure tags: @forcearama @temple-mistress @thetorontokid @mischievouschan4 @pathetic-lifeform @sopherfly @obikinetic and anyone else who wants to do it (but tag me if you do so I can read it!)

[allisonreader]

So last night I had a dream that was related to one that I've had before. One that I'm pretty sure that I've described and posted previous. In this current dream, I was actively referring to it and taking pictures because certain parts were so similar I had to show you guys (while at the same time realizing that I wouldn't actually get to share those photos because this too was a dream). Perhaps one of the best parts of this dream was the fact that @siena-sevenwits was in it.

To start from the beginning, she and I were walking up from a river or a lake with a couple of other people who were wondering why where we were walking had such a large cleared area/path that we were on. It was quite a wide area, wider than your average gravel road, easily able to fit two large vehicles side by side. I don't remember if it was myself, Siena, or both of us who were explaining to the group that the area had been cleared for logging at one point and that as we go further up the hill the path will narrow. As it did so we came across this small greenhouse, which was selling western red lilies/tiger lilies and marigolds for essentially pennies and my best friend who was with us bought one.

Just beyond the greenhouse was a house that was extremely similar to the one that I had in my previous dream, which I started to explain to Siena. That I wasn't sure that she had seen that post, but this house was a nicer version of what had been in my dream. The people who lived there were very similar to my previous dream as well. So I was inwardly excited that I had dreamed about a place that ended up being "actually real". Even the inside of the house, which we were invited in to see was extremely similar (but nicer) than the house that I had previously dreamt about. It was still more old fashioned, and had a loft and was actually level, but the layout was very similar. Kitchen in the front beside a bedroom with the bathroom beside the bedroom and a dining room and living room near the back of the house with stairs going down in the middle of the house, though this house had a loft unlike my previous dream. So here I was trying to take pictures without drawing attention to the fact that I'm taking pictures of everything so that I could share them and say hey guys, this is sort of what that one dream I had looked like.

From there it turned into something completely different, probably into a new dream where I wasn't myself but a character who had powers sort of. Anyways there essentially was this gun fight going on, I was shooting at this guy (father of my characters unborn baby?) who was shooting back at me, but we could turn ourselves invisible and when we did so the bullets couldn't hit us and would just go right through us. And my character used the fact that she was pregnant to avoid being shot at, telling him that he doesn't want to risk the baby does he. There was also this whole other girl or two who were fighting and one had trained the other but the one who had trained the other ended up winning.

[shadowsong26fic]

Papa and J-----, 28 August ‘34

Author: shadowsong26

Rating: PG/PG-13

Fandom: Les Misérables

Characters: Technically all on-page characters are OCs; Valjean, Cosette, Marius, and Javert are discussed as historical personalities. Backstory Cosette/Marius and heavily implied Valjean/Javert.

Warnings: Nothing specific, I don’t think?

Summary: Euphrasie Pontmercy--known in the art world as La Jardinière--isn’t exactly a household name. Still, the sheer length of her active career (her work was first displayed and sold in 1839, and she left one last work unfinished at her death in 1910) makes her interesting to people who actually study that century in art. But as far as the historical record is concerned, Jardinière seems to have sprung semi-fully-formed from the streets of Paris somewhere in the mid-to-late 1820s. Other than the fact that she was educated in a convent, essentially nothing is known about her parents or her childhood.

Until now.

Or:

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a PhD student with no thesis topic must be in want of an undiscovered painting to go absolutely feral over.

Disclaimer: All characters are the property of their respective creators.

Notes: So, this story came out of a midnight/one am rambling conversation with my roommate @tigerkat24. And then we realized it was interesting enough to be worth, like, polishing up and turning into an Actual Thing (translation: tigerkat dared me to actually write it and I was like ‘you know I really could’), so here we are. As the title implies, this is an AU timeline--short version, Javert didn’t die; he went to talk to Valjean some time later, and then just sort of…never left; Valjean also successfully failed to pine away in 1833. All other relevant AU details should be included within the text of the fic, which is set in a vague Present Day. My knowledge is primarily of the musical, though I have drawn in a few details from what I remember of reading (an abridged version of) the novel years ago; tigerkat just read it and has also provided some additional notes/helpful bits and pieces to draw in.

It all started on a blind date.

Which, I mean, when I tell people that’s how I met the love of my life, they assume I mean Phil. Don’t get me wrong, Phil is great, and I love having him in my life and have no intention of changing that any time soon. But he’s not what I’m talking about.

Phil was a friend of a friend of my roommate; I was working on finalizing my thesis topic for my PhD (art history, with a planned focus on the intersection of technological changes and shifts in the art world in the middle third of the nineteenth century). He worked in a bank, not at the university, which was probably for the best. Academia is a small world, and it can get super incestuous when ninety-five percent of the people you meet are, if not actually in your fairly small field, in something related.

So, Phil wasn’t an academic (although he had worked as a freelance translator while getting his CPA), and math (especially money math) has never exactly been my strong suit, but we found plenty of other things to talk about. A shared fondness for murder mysteries, the more ridiculous the better; a couple of fandoms in common; a similar sense of humor. And he was over the moon proud of his older sister, who was apparently making a major name for herself in the world of classical piano, so. You know. He clearly appreciated super-nerdy niche careers, even if he didn’t have one himself.

Besides, it was nice to get a break from going through all of the preliminary research I’d gathered, trying to find a thread to follow and spin into my actual thesis.

It was even nicer when the Agatha Christie movie we saw was better than we expected, and then we spent almost two hours at my favorite Middle Eastern place (best falafel in town) just talking, until they kicked us out at closing time.

Phil was sweet, and kind, and funny, and I’ve always been a sucker for boys with big blue eyes.

Naturally, we ended up back at his place.

He lived at home with his parents--which, no judgement; I’d probably still be living with mine if I hadn’t had to move halfway across the country for my PhD program--but they were out of town for the week, and I like to give my roommate a little more notice before asking for privacy.

His couch was also a hell of a lot nicer than mine.

We’d been getting into a nice rhythm, and then Phil had come up for air--and to strip his shirt the rest of the way off--when it caught my eye.

I’m still not sure what exactly drew my attention. The piece isn’t large; including the frame, it’s only a little bit bigger than a standard letter-sized piece of paper. A simple portrait of two men at a window; one seated, the other standing.

“Oh, hey, what’s that?” I asked.

“Huh?” Phil said, blinking a couple of times, then turning his head to see what I was looking at. “Uh…the painting? It’s…a painting? I don’t know, it’s been there for as long as I can remember.”

“Right,” I said, sitting half-propped-up on my elbows, still looking more at the painting than the (admittedly very pleasant) view of shirtless Phil. “…sorry. Uh. Art nerd brain activating.”

“…right,” he said, and sighed a little, but sat all the way up himself, climbing off me and pulling one of the couch cushions over onto his lap.

“Thanks. Sorry again. Can I take a closer look?”

“Go ahead,” he said.

I smiled at him and headed over to the other side of the room, leaving my own shirt behind.

Could be anywhere from the late 1820s to the 1840s, I guess, I thought. Men’s fashion didn’t provide as many clues as women’s fashion in that period. At least not to me--while I had done some research into fashion and textiles, if only because I was interested in the development of dyes and other pigments, my focus had always been more on painting.

My phone was on the coffee table, right where I’d dumped it when it started getting in the way; I picked it up. “Can I…?” I asked.

“Sure,” Phil said, running a hand through his hair.

“Great.” I took a quick picture of the painting on the wall--I knew a couple people who might have a better time dating it by the clothing than I would.

Right. So, I have at least a vague time period. What else?

The subjects weren’t young men; I’d guess both were somewhere between fifty and seventy or so. The seated man seemed like the older of the two, but that was hard to gauge even with a photograph. He had broad shoulders, a full beard; was wearing a fairly plain dark suit. First impression: quiet, steady, calm, strong. A vague melancholy, but not overwhelming. Just a general vibe.

The other man was positioned just to the side of and slightly behind the chair, standing absolutely perfectly straight--but not stiff; more like the kind of ingrained upright perfection you see in career military men. Impressive muttonchops, rather than a full beard. Everything about him said stern, severe; except for one hand, resting almost gently on the back of the chair.

It was definitely posed--most portraits before the Impressionists were anyway--but there was almost a sort of casual intimacy to it, anyway. What kind, I couldn’t say. But whoever these men were, they were close. One way or another.

“Do you know who the artist was?” I asked.

“Uh, my great-great-something grandmother, I think?” Phil said. He got up off the couch and wandered over to stand next to me. “Like I said, it’s been hanging there as long as I can remember, and I think it’s been in the family forever.”

“Right.”

With that in mind, it could have been an amateur piece; plenty of upper-class and bourgeois women and girls studied painting as just part of how to become an Accomplished Young Lady. But there was something familiar nagging at the corner of my mind. Something about the hand on the back of the chair, or the eyes, or…

If I could get a closer look, really get into the fine detail of brush strokes and other aspects of the composition, maybe it’d fall into place. But the style was definitely familiar, and not in the sense of ‘this was the work of a talented schoolgirl; I’ve seen half a dozen like it before.’

More specific than that.

“What was her name, do you know?”

“Family stories always call her Mémé Cosette,” he said. “But that was a nickname, I think. Her real name was…very French, but, well, that side of my family’s French so that’s, uh, not really surprising.” He frowned. “I know I know it, hang on.”

Well, worth a shot. “Maybe it’ll come to you in a minute,” I said. “Is this the original frame?”

“Far as I know,” he said. “Sorry, like I said, it’s been there forever. Just sort of…part of the living room.”

So, maybe. “Can I take it down? I’ll be careful, I promise.”

“Sure,” he said. “…Emilie? It started with an E, I’m absolutely sure.”

“Right,” I said, absently, focused on taking the wooden frame off the wall.

A simple thing, and definitely actual wood, not plastic; probably not brand new. So, it could have been original, or not too much later than the portrait. Or it could have been a decent frame from ten years ago. Once again, hard to say for sure without further study.

I flipped it over. There was a handwritten inscription on the back.

Papa et J---- 28 août ’34.

And the handwriting was--

Oh my God.

“Eugenie? No, that’s not--Euphrasie? Yeah, I think that’s it.”

I had always thought that, when people said their heart skipped a beat, it was a poetic exaggeration. But, hand to God, in that moment, mine did.

“Ari?” Phil asked. “You okay?”

“Euphrasie,” I said. “Euphrasie Pontmercy?”

“That…sounds right,” he said. “…wait, you know her? Uh, of her?”

I turned the painting back over, and--yeah, yes, absolutely, that was it. That was what I was seeing--the distinctive way she did detail work in her early period, particularly in the shading around the eyes and hands in her rare portraits. The things that show the most humanity, as one of my high school drawing teachers had put it. I’d still need a closer look, outside the frame, to be absolutely sure, but.

“I--yeah,” I said. “Yeah, I…I know her.”

And the inscription on the back--Papa et J----, 28 août ’34. Papa and J----, August 28, ‘34. 1834, obviously. And--Papa.

Holy fucking shit.

“Wait,” Phil said. “Was…was Mémé Cosette actually famous? Like, people study her?”

“She was pretty well known for a while, but mostly it’s the length of her career that makes her interesting,” I said. “Not like she was a major player in any of the art movements she was on the fringes of, but she adapted some of their techniques to her own style as time went on, and…yes. Yes, people study her.” I took a breath. “Is there…do you think there’s any chance your parents would let me borrow this? To do more detailed study and analysis, I mean. Maybe. Maybe write a paper?” Or a thesis?

“Probably,” he said. “I mean, you can always ask, and I don’t see any reason why they’d say no?”

“Great,” I said. “Uh. Just let me…” I took a couple more pictures with my phone--the portrait, the frame, the inscription--and then carefully, and hopefully without being too obviously reluctant, hung it back in its place on the wall. “…I’m sorry, Phil, I have to…”

“Yeah, of course,” he said. “Rain check?”

I blinked and--we’d had a good time, before I sort of ruined it, and he was very beautiful, standing there with his shirt off and those big blue eyes. “Definitely,” I said, leaning in to give him a very quick peck on the lips on my way to collect my shirt. “I’ll call you. For more than just the painting. Promise.”

He smiled, and. Oh, yeah. Definitely calling him back.

Later. In a few days.

First, though. That painting.