#The coloured pen drawing is the first attempt

[deminetly]

౨JOURNALING PROMPTS FOR SHIFTERSৎ

credits to shiiiftz for some of these

……………………………………………………………..

write a detailed scene from your dr as if it was a movie (include dialogue, setting and actions)

write some things about your dr selfs backstory that shaped them into who they are today

pretend like your cr and dr selves are pen pals, write letters from both perspectives

write about what keeps you motivated to shift, things you cant wait to do

plan out how youre going to celebrate your first shift

write down what you feel each time attempt shifting, which symptoms you noticed, how close you think came to your dr

write down any dreams that resonated with your dr

how would your dr self react if they were placed in another one of your drs?

make moodboards for your dr

describe the perfect day in your dr

make up new slang for your dr

mix up multiple of your drs into one

assign a colour to each of your drs

do you think you and your dr self would get along?

how are you and your dr selves similar to/different from each other?

answer journaling prompts as your dr self

write down foods (or make up new ones) youd like to eat in your dr

make your own schedule for your school dr (make up new lessons)

daily diary entries as your dr self

rate methods you have tried

draw your dr self, people, pets from your dr

draw your dr wardrobe

draw landscapes from your dr

draw your dr hosue and car

write down songs that remind you of your dr

make up shifting methods and write them down

things youre exited and nervous about shifting to your dr or just shifting in general

make up random things to script

scenarios you want to experience in your dr

write down the best shifting tips you have heard and how they helped you

your dr self posessions

a letter to your future self with questions you can answer once youve shifted

monthly recap in your dr

describe your favourite outfit from each dr

describe a location in your dr using all five senses

if you could bring one person from your dr to your cr, who would it be? how about from your cr to your dr?

list things you like and dislike about the shifting community

write poems about your dr s/o or ex

write a love letter to your dr s/o

what are some small imperfections in your dr / dr self?

what are some fun facts about your dr or dr self?

list your favourite locations, items and people from each dr, add pictures 

make a shifting gratitude page listing everything you’re thankful about that has to do with shifting (ex: im thankful for discovering shifting, im thankful that shifting has helped me become more creative and build community)

list symptoms you’ve felt while meditating 

make up a secret alphabet so you can write things about your dr or dr self that you wouldn’t want other people to find out about

what will you/did you do on your first day in your dr?

write down (and draw) a really detailed description of the room that your first shifting to (helps with visualisation)

write a letter to the universe titled why you should let me shift and list reasons

make a shifting bucketlist (ex: ride a dragon, jump out of a window)

describe your dr yourself from the perspective of another person from your dr

[luveline]

Hey if you're still taking requests could I get any sort if angst to comfort for zombie au steve? Been feeling down lately and I've always loved that series!

ty for requesting! zombie au. fem, 1.5k

The new pencils are oil-cored, as opposed to his last ones, which had been wax. They were just fine, but these oil pencils allow him to blend colours and shades with more finesse than ever. He can pour twenty different colours into the tone of your skin and have them blend into a real, phototechnical you. 

He’s pretty proud of this one. 

He wakes up first every morning, allowing for time where you’re unaware and he’s got nothing to do. He’s sketched you so many times it comes naturally. Steve probably wouldn’t need to look, but watching you sleep is half the joy of drawing you. 

You're drooling a little. 

Steve puts the handful of pencils he’d been using to colour your neck back into his pen case. He puts the case and his sketchbook on top of his main bag, shoving it into a corner of your tent with the rest of the bags to climb back onto the bed. It’s a portable cushioning made for camping, and it’s nothing like a mattress, but it is much kinder to your backs than sleeping on the ground. Warmer, too. 

He pushes your head back, knowing it will wake you, his thumb to the little drool line to wipe it away, his palm on your cheek to hold it. 

“Hello.” He kisses your other cheek as your lashes twitch. Doesn’t even think about not doing it. “Good morning.” 

“Morning,” you mumble strangely. 

“What’s that?” he says, soft to match your quiet. His breath kisses your lips. “What’s wrong? You sound sad.” 

You force your eyes apart, and you feel along the mattress with your hand. Steve watches in real time as your eyes fill with tears, huge, heavy tears that well in the corner of your left and spill from the right to wet the pillow under your head. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, the effort expended to stay calm so gutting he has to squeeze the pillow just shy of your head. 

You grab for him, blankets and your half-open sleeping bag crinkling but not too thick to feel the force of your fingers gripping his sides. 

You must’ve had a bad dream, that’s what he thinks. He’s had enough of them, and he’s unfortunately cried after almost all of them. Sometimes you’ve seen it, sometimes you haven’t, but you look at him with love no matter what —he can forget dreams of losing you when you’re murmuring niceness in his ear, and he can give it back to you. 

“It’s okay,” he says, letting you squeeze him hard. “Don’t cry.” And that’s a little awkward of him, that sneaking panic, but he’s never claimed to be a professional. 

You cry in a weird breath that borders a gag. “I’m so-sorry.” 

“It’s okay, it’s fine. I have bad dreams too. You know that.” 

Steve attempts to get both arms behind your shoulders, pulling you into him, sitting you up. He can’t cope with how quickly you’ve fallen apart. To wake up crying, how scary the dream must’ve been, he hates it. 

“It’s okay,” he says. 

“It was a good dream,” you say. 

Steve frowns. “Okay, so what’s the problem?” 

“We had a house. We had a dog. I don’t– don’t even know if you like cats, but you had a dog, and we,” —you sob between words, not too loudly as to travel far, but aching— “were planning a trip. It felt so real, Steve. You were so happy.” 

Steve tries to process it as fast as he can. “Oh,” he says softly, hand lax where it had been rubbing your shoulder. 

“You were so happy,” you say again, burying the tip of your nose into his neck. You’re practically crawling atop him, but he’s strong enough to stop you from laying him down. 

“It’s okay, honey. Jesus,” he says, patting your back again. “It’s alright. It’s okay.” 

“We’ll never have those things.” 

“Baby, who says so?” he asks in a murmur. 

“We’ll never get to go anywhere together–”

“It feels like we’ve seen pretty much all of America,” he says. He’s joking, but travelling with you from place to place has felt expansive. You’ve seen forests and lakes, a thousand different houses, hundreds of neighbourhoods, and street art and installations and billboards for movies that were never screened. Steve’s seen about as much of the world as he wants to see. “I’d just stay in this tent with you forever if they let us, we don’t need to go anywhere else.” 

“You wanted to see palm trees,” you say, sniffling and pained as your tears warm the curve of his trap. 

“I’ve seen them,” Steve says. “Don’t worry. I’ve already seen palm trees. A whole bunch of them. Don’t worry about what I wanted in the dream, it was just a dream.” 

He gives you a quick kiss, his lips to the very edge of your temple. 

“I feel like I’m gonna be sick.” 

Steve nods. He draws from you reluctantly and opens the tent, ushering you on knees to sit out in the cool air. He sits next to you, dewdrops from the grass wetting his jeans, the sky a humming of early morning colours; the sun rises in bands of orange and raspberry pink, darkness above, sun rays kissing the sides of tents and the portables in the distance. 

You take deep breaths. Steve holds your hand, the two of you looking up at the strange sky. 

“We’ll never be that happy,” you say. 

Steve can hear your agony, and he knows what you mean. He thinks of that life with you and never lets himself think far. You would've gone to college, maybe, and Steve would’ve drove to visit you —he would’ve moved. Maybe in your second year you’d live together in a suburb just between college and his job, whatever it is he’d ended up doing, in a house you chose, with a ring on your finger. Steve wants kids but if you don’t then perhaps you’d have had none, but he still likes to picture you with your babies, a big family, years later. And maybe he’d have a dog. A silly looking one with bark worse than its bite. 

And you’d be together. You would be happy. Nothing to hurt you. Nothing to lose you to. You’d never worry where your next meal was coming from, you’d never feel cold. 

Steve breathes out. Sniffs biting air. “We’ll never be that happy. That kind of happy. We’re never gonna go on trips, maybe we won’t ever have a house, but–“ He pulls your hand toward him, your eyes latching on to his. “But maybe we will. We might not get to watch cable, but we can have a tv, in a living room. We can live together, and maybe we will take trips. I don’t know. I don’t know what we’ll have, but I’m already happy. You don’t have to cry about me being happy.” He shakes his head. “Shit, you shouldn’t. I want that life with you so much I dream about it too, but I have this one.” 

“You think we’ll have a house?” you ask hopefully. 

“We can’t live like this forever.” He’s promising it. “Something has to give.” 

“I want us to have more,” you say. 

A weak confession, your cheeks wet with tears but eyes thankfully drying, your eyelids puffy already from sleep and crying alike. Steve wants you to have everything, even if everything is a stupid thing to think you’ll have. 

“We will.” Steve closes one eye, a sort of prolonged wink of pain as his nose wrinkles. “But this is enough for now, right?” 

“No.” 

You’re kidding, to Steve’s relief. 

He laughs and elbows you, glad to see your smile as you evade poorly. “Say it’s enough!” 

“No way.” 

You don’t wait for him to pull you in or ask if it’s alright, flopping without ceremony into his lap, and then turning toward him to hug his stomach. He looks down at you fondly, hand rubbing up your warm back. You’re still clammy from sleeping, but you’re not crying anymore. 

“It’s really cold out here.” 

“I know.” He blows a warm breath in your ear. “Do you still feel sick? Don’t barf in my lap.” 

“I’m sorry, Steve. It just felt so real.” 

His voice turns to a silky whisper he’s only ever used in love. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine. We never would’ve… I’d never get to be here,” —you squeeze him around the waist— “if we were in a world where we also get the house and the dog and… the family…” 

“But it would’ve been nice,” Steve finishes, looking up from your back to watch as the raspberry bands of pink turn to blue. 

“It would’ve been perfect.” 

[woso-dreamzzz]

Tattoos

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: You have pens

"Sorry," Mumma says as she bounces you on her hip," She's in a grumpy mood today."

You grunt, angling your head away as Tia Patri tries to rub at your cheek.

"Very grumpy," Tia Patri notes before smiling at you anyway and waving you goodbye.

"Okay," Mumma says, readjusting her grip on you so you can tuck your head into the crook of her neck," There we go. I think someone needs a little nap."

"No," You whine," No nap...jus'...jus' you. Jus' Mumma."

"Okay," Mumma agrees," Just Mumma."

You've been out of whack ever since the flight over for the semifinal Champion's League match. Mapi's still returning from her knee injury so she's been dropped to the bench and continues her rehab even though she's on the squad list so Ingrid's kind of been solo parenting for a bit.

It's not that Mapi won't help but she very much can't do things like play rough with you like you enjoy or bounce you on her knee to calm you down.

Ingrid hasn't done that a lot since she started dating Mapi, who dived head-first into things like that in an attempt to win you over.

"Mamí too," You insist as you whine out a low note.

"Are you having big feelings?" Ingrid asks as she fishes out her phone to ask where Mapi is.

You nod tiredly against her, practically limp but still with enough energy to kick and snap your displeasure.

Ingrid wonders if it's a lack of stimulation. The plane ride had been long and you didn't have any of your usual things to keep you occupied.

Your story books had all been packed in the big suitcase (the last time Ingrid will ever trust Mapi to pack your bags) and your colouring book and felt tip pens had been deemed too messy for you to use on the flight. That coupled with your inability to stay asleep for more than twenty minutes, means that you're exhausted and bored.

It's a dangerous combination.

Ingrid shoots off a text to Mapi about the situation and walks the length of the hallway, quietly hushing you and allowing you to suck at her collar even though she knows that it's going to feel bad against her skin later on.

Mapi replies quickly, saying that she's in the canteen with Alexia.

"Mumma," You whine as Ingrid makes for the elevator," No go out! No want!"

"We're not going out," Ingrid assures you but the damage is already done because the exhaustion and the boredom finally catch up with you and you burst into a round of frustrated tears.

Ingrid bounces you more firmly as you babble and sob and whine all the way down. The staff sends her sympathetic looks, some of them having children themselves, and the rest of the team look equally distraught as you clearly feel when Ingrid (frazzled and stressed) bursts into the canteen.

Mapi's at the table in the corner, a packet of temporary tattoo pens by her side as she transfers a sketch from her book onto Alexia's arms.

Alexia's been talking about getting another tattoo and Mapi had drawn up designs easily.

She's animatedly talking about the one she's transferring to Alexia's arms interspersed with flicking through the book to show alternative ideas.

She stops immediately though as your cries echo through the room and Ingrid approaches.

"What happened?" She asks," What's wrong? Is she hurt? Sick? She had that tummy bug a few weeks ago. Is it back?"

"She's having some big feelings," Ingrid replies, sitting down next to Mapi," I think she just wants some company while working through them. Look, she's already calming down."

She's right.

Your gasping breaths are evening out again and the tears roll down your face mostly silently. With your Mumma and Mamí now together, you're happy to just sag against Mumma and allow Mamí's conversation with Tia Ale to wash over you.

You slowly reach out for the pink pen that's resting on the table. You pick it up. Mamí doesn't use the pink a lot, especially when she's drawing ideas on people like she's doing with your Tia.

Mumma leans with you as you angle yourself towards Mamí's arms where some of her tattoos are on show.

"Open," You tell Mumma, your voice a little scratchy from all your crying and general unease. Mumma takes the lid off for you.

You press the tip against Mamí's arm, taking a lot of care to colour in the lines of the pictures she's got there.

She stops drawing on your Tia when she first feels the press of the nib against her skin.

You give her a little teary eyed smile when she catches your eye.

"Following in your footsteps," Mumma says fondly, finally able to plait your hair into a neat braid," Little tattoo artist."

"Yeah," Mamí agrees, moving to uncap all the pens on the table," Make sure to get in as many colours as possible, alright?"

You nod.

Mamí continues to draw on Tia Ale as you continue to colour in her tattoos.

The repetitive action soothes you and you make pretty swirls in her arm pictures even after she's finished showing Tia Ale her designs.

"Finished?" She asks.

You nod. "Finished."

"Ingrid," Mamí says," Take a picture of this." She flexes her arm. "I want to brag to everyone about how much more exciting she's made my arm."

[songs-of-future-past]

Got bored, have a random sketch page for practice because I struggle drawing faces. And Ghosts.

Characters and their players (as well as a couple ask blogs);

Nocturne, Elyan, Castle, and Shard belong to myself

RZ and Ori: @themetalmenace

Ellis and Yú: @ellis-the-lightguide

Gerda-3 and Rufus: @gerda-3

Crow and Glint: @crow-the-hunter-vanguard

Drifter: @ask-drifter

Eris Morn (lmk if someone has an ask blog for her, I'd love to lurk)

Andal Brask: @great-shot-terrible-gambler

Cayde-6 and Sundance: @cayde-6-hunter-vanguard

Couple notes to self under the cut:

For Nocturne, I need to broaden the shoulders a bit. Just proportions in general. First sketch so that's my excuse. Elyan turned out better, but its features are squished. Ellis I just need to even the features out a bit.

I wanna do another attempt at RZ, I think I could do better. Same with Gerda and Cayde. I need to figure out how to draw Exos.

Drifter looks too soft, somehow. I don't know how to explain it.

Eris and Crow turned out pretty well, just some minor tweaks and it would probably be fine?

What is Andal's hair?

Ghost shells are... weird. I think I'm close to getting Glint and Shard? Once I figured out I need to start with a leaf shape it went okay. Not sure about... any of the more standard shells. I genuinely got lost while doing Rufus, I'm sorry.

If you actually made it this far (why are you here?) send me a picture of your guardian and their ghost, I need practice. I might even do it in colour with the glass pens if you toss some Silver my way ;)

[sideswipesjetpack]

hiii I really appreciate the way you move your brush strokes!! any advice how to get better at drawing mech?

HI! Hello, PRACTICE… as cliche as it sounds, my old art is absolute ass cheeks compared to what I’m doing now, I only started drawing mecha back in November so, my advice might be mid but I’ll try

Mecha, to me are basically people, only with bulk, (armour) I’d practice consistently drawing rectangles and squares at different angles to lock in the 3D aspect from different POVs

The main points I’d say are the chassis, helm, shoulders and torso, those are where the most distinctive features are, (or where I think they are)

As the legs tend to just be straight to the point, small rectangle with bigger rectangle below

Normally, I don’t do pre sketches, I tend to just go straight for it with my art stuff, but prior to that I would use references, have about 5 layers of sketches and attempt to cleanup my art,

Doing this however, for me it felt constricting and strict, I wasn’t enjoying it, so I started playing around with my style, finding what I like doing best,

The main brushes I use are ‘wild light, inka and oil paint, However I try and experiment with other ones consistently to push myself, so I often use nikko rull, aurora, syrup, water pen and fine tip/baskerville pandani, leatherwood, old beach, quoll, chalk— yknow the list goes on and on actually

Transformers Mecha you’ll find are massively similar, once you break it down, here’s a quick diagram below of sideswipe being rendered

Inka pen^^

If you’re brand new to mecha, pick a universe you like and start there, for me I started drawing g1 first and that’s where majority of my designs come from, as I’ve gotten consistency I occasionally add subtle aspects from other universes to the characters

For me, I only drew prowl and jazz at the beginning, but I gradually moved out to different characters once I grew more confident to tackle the different chassis/helms

For your own art (or anyone else reading this) I highly recommend trying new things, don’t feel restricted to do it by the norm if you don’t enjoy it,

For me, my main moto is that art is supposed to be fun, if you don’t like doing it, you’ll have a hard time sticking to it, it’s important to not make it a chore as it becomes soul crushing to force yourself to do it :))

Bottom line,

Have fun, Don’t overly criticise yourself, mistakes are OKAY!! Don’t punish yourself, Be loose with it, experiment, Please don’t feel like it’s the end of the world if a piece isn’t looking how you imagined, practice makes perfect, like, seriously, no joke on that one

And!!

I added this speedpaint, whenever I draw a new character, I have a basic ref on my phone for their colours and just go ham, straight in I try not to pause and ‘fix’ everything, If I don’t like it, I can do that at the end 😼😼 just to kinda show the process, I’ve got more speedpaints if this goes well, but I can only add one vid at a time 😭

Anyway, if you have further questions, feel free to ask here or in asks :))

AND THANK YIUUUU!! It makes me happy when people like what I do 😼😼

[skrankku]

Okay I have to know your drawing process. I am in love with your art style it is my favorite.

I’m just always captivated by it and the body proportions! They look like actual people.

I'm going to combine these asks :D

Thank you so much - here I'm going to show the steps of me making a drawing, in this case an outfit meme prompt.

1) First of all, put on THEME MUSIC (drawing should be enjoyable). I went with the soundtrack to the Prince of Egypt.

2) Second of all, I start with doing some thumbnails with stick figures to test different poses:

3) I pick a pose and do the loosest of stick figure:

4) I gradually work out angle and body proportions, flipping the image every now and then. Professional artists do much lighter and looser sketches than I do - generally I put too much pressure on the pencil:

5) It's a Lorgar! Like most humans, he is mostly made out of curves and bulges. I find that indicating at least some amount of body fat makes a character look more lively.

6) Inking time on a new paper:

7) I add flat colours. I also curse because the ink is bleeding, even tho the clerk at the art store told me the new ink pen was marker-proof. Switch to old ink pen.

8) I start adding shadows. Scream internally.

9) I add more shadows and detail and oh hey it's looking better now:

10) I bring out the gel pens to do highlights and other details. I take a half-decent photo and put on any filter I want:

And that is my drawing process! The best way to create your own style is attempting to copy other people and fucking it up. It's worked great for me so far.

[cultkinkcoven]

So i want to start my practice but unfortunately i don't have the tool incense tarot card pendulum and especially i still lived with my parent. The deity i want to work with is a demon from ars goetia andromalius, i already did the ritual but i Haven't got any respond what should i do?

I received this ask in June so you’ve probably already figured this out but keep on tryin!

If you don’t have access to tools like a pendulum or tarot cards you do still have the option to do some good old meditation on your demon’s sigil. In fact you’ll probably be doing this way more than using cards or other tools. All you need is a pen and a piece of paper. On the front you should write your demon’s sigil. Bonus points if you can find a coloured piece of paper or pen that you associate with them. For Leviathan I would probably use blue, whereas I’d probably use red for Asmoday and green for Belial.

On the back of the paper write a short petition or prayer. Be sure to address yourself by name (doesn’t have to be your legal name, just the name that you identify most with). Detail what exactly it is that you want from them and be precise about how you want them to manifest. If you hope to see them in your dreams write that down. If you just want some mundane sign that they’re listening write that down too.

For example: “To the Great Lord Lucifer, keeper of the hidden gnosis and liberator of all, I Shi, your loyal devotee, invoke your presence and healing light. I request that you appear to me in my dreams, in perfect human form. I wish to see your face and feel your warmth upon me. I wait patiently here, in this, your temple (referring to the altar) for your messages to touch my heart. So it shall be, as it has been, and shall be again.”

For first introductions it’s always a good idea to bring offerings. Something as simple as clean water is fine if you don’t have access to incense. A piece of fruit, a yummy pastry, or a piece of candy works too. Some demons are more particular than others, but they almost all unanimously appreciate alcohol. If you don’t have access to wine or rum, white vinegar also works.

Now, you can anoint the sigil with blood. I usually only do this for my patron who I trust and feel safe offering dna to. Some rituals will insist that you anoint all your sigils with blood but it’s not mandatory in my experience. A simple kiss can work, as can just charging the sigil in your hands. Focus all of your intention into the sigil until it almost seems to vibrate with energy. Then, when you feel ready, you can begin chanting their enn if they have one. If not, you can come up with your own mantra. For example, I wasn’t sure what invocation to use with Hermes, so I always just repeat “Holy Hermes, Holy Hermes, guide my spell.”

As you chant, focus your entire attention towards every syllable coming out of your mouth, feel your vocal cords vibrate as your intention becomes sound. I like to say Lucifer’s enn deep in my chest.

As you do, continue to stare at the sigil. There is a good chance you’ll experience some kind of imagery or physical sensation. If you see a terrifying face or a graphic image, do not freak out, this is very normal. Not all demons are pretty lol. You may altogether have an idea or voice enter into your mind out of seemingly nowhere, that is likely your demon responding. You can respond to them aloud or in your head. Try to stay focused on the sigil as you do, don’t think too hard about your answers.

As an added step you can attempt to do automatic writing. This is when you allow a demon to take control of the muscles in your hand to create a drawing or sentence on a piece of paper. Whilst holding the pencil, completely relax and continue to focus on your demon’s sigil. Don’t resist the subtle movements that occur involuntarily. Sometimes this can result in amazing communication and sometimes it results in a bunch of gibberish. It’s worth a shot but don’t be dismayed if it doesn’t work the first few times.

If you don’t see or feel anything, that’s okay, these things don’t always manifest right away. Do not beg your demon to show up. They find it very annoying. Continue the ritual for a few days until you get a sign. Pay very close attention to the subtle details in your life.

You should probably recreate the sigil every time you reach out rather than using the same one from last session. You’re also perfectly okay to destroy the sigil either by burning or just throwing it in the garbage. Be sure to say goodbye and close down the connection before you destroy the sigil. If you do get a solid communication, remember to say thank you.

[starlightandfairies]

Smarts ~Jade Herrera~

Description: Jade is baffled by reader's need to keep up with studies.

Warnings: she/her pronouns, swearing, maybe a little out of character

Little random piece of work that isn't too great.

@buteraroplace for you have your inbox request :)

Key: Y/N = Your Name, L/N = Last name, POV = Point of view

Word Count: 633

First person's POV

"What on earth are you doing?" Jade questioned, disturbing me from my hiding spot. Only place that allowed me to feel some sense of normalcy away from the town and Colony House.

I spoke without looking up from the textbooks that I had with me when I got stuck in this fucked up place that only Stephen King could have conjured up.

"Studying." A scoff left Jade's lips.

"Studying? What could you possibly be studying for?"

"Not all of us have PhDs, that can fulfill us with endless job possibilities. When I get out of here. I need to be caught up on my studies. I need to be prepared to get back to my life."

I resumed writing down notes from the textbook, trying my hardest to draw the diagram of the brain.

"You drew the cerebellum wrong." Jade pointed out.

"It's at the back, on the bottom, attached to the brain-stem. I did nothing wrong." I defended, not seeing whatever it was that he was seeing.

"Here. Let me." He snatched by workbook and pen away, like he was some little kid taking back his prized possession. Once he handed it back to me, he had drawn some medical-grade level diagram of a brain that made my little fun coloured diagram look like chicken-scratch.

Jade looked as smug as ever; that stupid little cocky smirk he does when he knows he is right. Drives me batty.

"What makes you so sure there's even an out of this?" Jade questioned, sucking away all effort that I carried to continue on with my studies. I shut the textbooks with a thwack, pushing them to the side and leant against the tree that became my safe haven.

"If I don't tell myself I can get out of here. I don't think I could survive much longer. I need this hope. Don't take it away from me." The words left my lips, separate from my own thoughts, soft and distant. Jade nodded briefly; taking a seat beside me, putting his focus at the empty archway in front of us. Some other mystical clue from hell.

"I... I'm sorry for taking that from you." I could tell, in a sense, it felt foreign to Jade, apologising. It was nice, however, hearing him apologise.

"Haven't taken it from me yet." A nod was all I got.

"So... psychology?"

"Yeah, wanna be a psychologist. I was only a month and a bit into my first year. I was driving from campus, there was traffic, I had a deadline to and I detoured. Found the tree, then got stuck in this nightmare just like everybody else."

Jade nods, taking in my words, he stands up and gathers my things.

"It's getting late." With a sigh, I stood up, following him towards town. We both gather in the bar, I cover the windows up, something I always do in the room I reside in among the town houses.

I lie on the floor, staring at the ceiling, taking in the silence that would soon be shattered by the monsters.

"You know. I was really liking college, it was fun... I was making friends, finally getting my life to how I imagined it."

"Look... I know I a giant hypocrite. The more you think about home, the more you'll destroy any remaining hope you have." I turned my head, appreciating his words, yet the comment just seemed to slip out.

"Jade are you being poetic for once rather than all brainiac?" I jumped up, grabbing some of the shit homemade vodka that always hurt my soul.

"You know what-"

"I'm sorry, that was mean, I know that..." Jade patted the floor beside him, grabbing the bottle from my hands.

"It's fine. I know I can be a prick at times too." The monsters began tapping on the window, whispering, attempting to gather attention that could be tempting enough to lure us out.

Another swing of the bottle. The taste bitter on my tongue, getting worse with each sip.

"Which one creeps you out the most?" He scoffed.

"They're all creepy-motherfuckers."

"Just- okay? Please, just... okay?" My brain was choking, I was tired and I swear I was struggling to even function at this point.

"That smiley-motherfucker."

"Yeah, he's pretty creepy." As I closed my eyes, the taunting of the creatures disappeared and the world drifted into silence.

[tenderwatches]

Ch. 19 of Lies We Tell Ourselves is up!

𐡸.:𐫱:.𐡷

chapter teaser

𐡸.:𐫱:.𐡷

chapter excerpt

Chapter 19: I, Heliotrope (in turning)

In contemplating death, Viktor wants to feel he’s greeting an old friend: someone who has watched him from on high, a grim guardian over the phases of his life. From his childhood in the Undercity to his young adulthood, trying desperately to assimilate to Piltover’s standards and society, to his years at Hextech, letting himself bleed everything he had into a project that was at once labour, love, and sacrifice.

Scientifically, there’s nothing to fear in death.

Your body returns to the elements whence evolution created it, the chemical reactions that powered your movements dissipating as heat on the winds. Your last breath travels against particles in the air, its velocity endlessly approaching zero. Lights in your brain, firing for all the years you’ve been alive, slowly begin to wink out. Life ceases.

Spiritually—well, Viktor has never been a spiritual person.

Gods are simply beings who have ascended from mortality. Their power knows no boundary; their age, no end. But nothing else likens them to godhood—they are neither benevolent nor evil. Their influence, relative to their power, has no more sway over the timeline of Runeterra than that of anyone else.

But there are other ways to raise one’s influence and power—he’s learnt that watching people manoeuvre through both the Lanes and the gilded streets of the Upper City. You can braid together wealth, connections, and lies, weaving a ladder upon which you climb until your will dominates those on the rungs below you.

Spirituality is yet another form of society’s moral caterwauling. And so, in spirituality also, death offers nothing to fear. It is only the inevitable return home.

Emotionally, however—therein lies his problem with death.

Humanity is so deeply tied to emotion—greed and corruption, love and empathy. One can trace all the forces acting upon life back to desire: an emotion that fuels fires of anger and passion alike. Desire—wanting, aching, yearning—each pitching their weight into one’s motivations, driving both action and reaction.

Viktor wants to live.

He realises this as he’s gazing up at the tall, fan-like leaves of a plant stretching towards the sunlight streaming in from greenhouse panes above. Deep fuchsia ribs colour its stalk and form veins stretching out to its serrated leaf edges. Even as some leaves wither away, tiny new ones break the surface of the soil, some beginning to unfurl from their tight curls as they mature.

After three relentless weeks in the lab, endless trials yielding nothing but mediocre results, Jayce had been adamant that a ‘change of scenery’ will do them good. Sky proposed relocating their free-form ideation session to Piltover’s expansive two-acre botanical collection; they’ve only explored the first few gardens on account of Viktor’s condition, but their discussions have grown lively.

“We were right about the way the plants are being affected.” Sky’s voice draws Viktor from his reverie as she bends down, pausing to add fresh observations to the weeks of data in her journal. She uses the end of her pen to indicate where the lower leaves are beginning to yellow as a natural sign of decay. “It’s not about rejection or toxicity; look here—this is normal senescence. The plant redirects nutrients from older leaves to support new growth—totally normal.” She jabs in the air with excitement and has to push her glasses back up the bridge of her nose from where they slide down. “It’s just happening too rapidly in our samples.”

From his seat on the nearest metal bench, Viktor nods. “It’s an excellent observation, Miss Young.”

They must have exhausted every merchant of plants between their lab and the furthest reaches of the Mid Town markets. They’ve been trialling plants in cycles of accelerated repair and various stages of growth, and though their initial attempts showed promise, most of the trials had collapsed into refuse in a matter of minutes. Only a few outlying cases in which a tweak to the runic patterns seemed to allow the subject to live for a few hours, but those, too, eventually died. The sharpness of hope trying to break ground inside of him is beginning to ache, despite his greatest attempts to push it down where it couldn’t see the light of day.

“So, the—you know—” Thomas whispers after glancing around to ensure none are too close to their conversation, “isn’t killing them directly?” He has grown less flighty in their time together; Viktor’s episode in the hospital has seemingly reminded him that Viktor is human, just another citizen of their divided city, like him.

“No,” Sky’s passion for biology overrides her usual hesitation. Viktor is pleased to see her confidence. “What we’re seeing indicates natural ageing. See how the deterioration starts from the bottom up? If it were rejection or toxicity, we’d see spotting, certain portions dying off, or localised discolouration. This natural process—” She traces the progression up the leafy stalks, “is what we’re seeing—just accelerated.”

Thomas nods along with matched enthusiasm, but frustration begins to shadow his expression. “That corroborates what we’ve seen with adjustments to the precision rune, but even when we tune up resolve to compensate, we still see cellular breakdown.”

Jayce paces in front of him on the walk, hand held up to his chin in thought. “Right,” he agrees, beginning now to tap one fist against the palm of his other hand as he thinks aloud. “Maybe the issue is we’re taking the process too far? We’re not able to stop it from executing the full life cycle.”

“What if we could store any excess beyond what we want?” Thomas questions from the ground. He’s sat on the edge of the flowerbed, now twirling an errant leaf between his fingers. “Like a capacitor? Something to store and release energy at a controlled rate.” He doesn’t even seem to mind—or maybe, notice—his coattails in the mulch. They have really begun to shirk all sense of decorum. He supposes that working on an illicit research project of potentially ground-shaking implications can do that to a group.

Sky shakes her head. “No, they’re burning up their resources too fast—it’s not just that the whole thing happens, the plants also don’t have enough nutrients to sustain the growth.”

Viktor watches the interplay of light and shadow across the leaves as clouds pass overhead. Jayce snaps his fingers several times in a row in the way he does that means ‘you might be on to something!’, and Viktor feels the corners of his lips drawn slightly upwards, just a breath away from a smile. His colleagues discuss with a lively brightness, which he appreciates all the more because they've undertaken this project on his behalf. Viktor has always been a figure of the periphery, forever watching, getting the chance to support, if he’s lucky. Even with Hextech, Viktor never felt comfortable taking up any of the spotlight no matter how many times Jayce called him a partner. It just never felt like his, something he could attribute to his name.

(Read the rest on AO3!) (Or start from the beginning!)

[ytbandsnmore]

Okay... Decided to redownload tumblr again.. let's see how long this lasts 🥴 ANYWHO! Here's my first legit attempt at water colour! (I also used pencil crayons for shading, pen for lineart) Decided to give drawing Anti a try as it's been a while~

You guys have no idea how many times I drew the sketches for this only to hate it and start over again. At one point I gave up tryna draw Anti and tried sketching out Mark for Iron Lung, but then I rounded back to Anti and found my groove so I stuck with this 🥴🙏 I'm glad I did in the end 🎃

TW: ⚠️BLOOD, KNIFE⚠️

[skulldetergent]

a bunch of traditional ghoap art i made recently. notes to each drawing below the cut

top left is my first ever attempt at using compressed charcoal to draw. it was surprisingly less difficult than i thought it would be, and pretty fun.

top right is a soap study made with ink, i used a bunch of references from the game to really get a grip on soap's facial structures. is soap's 3d model really inconsistent, my artstyle, or both? i guess we'll never know

bottom left is also ink, and was coloured with watercolour and some watercolour pencils. i wanted to draw them both in some cultural/religious attire, but i accidentally made soap look more bavarian than scottish... at least the kilt still looks good! and simon is wearing jewish religious/cultural attire such as a kippah, tallit and a magen david (jewish simon my beloved)

bottom right was made with fineliner pens. i kind of fucked up the anatomy so it looks a bit wonky, but i still like it overall.

[jeaanmoreau]

vampire!andreil drabble: tell me what i look like

arti attempts to write aftg fanfiction part 3. this time courtesy of this post which was the cutest thing i've seen this week and immediately made me think of andreil 📚 read on ao3

"Well, your eyes are blue, but clearly you knew that since you went through all the trouble of wearing brown contacts for a while there."

Neil merely stared back at Andrew unapologetically, ankle tucked under himself on the couch they shared, curiosity having got the better of them not for the first time. Because it had bothered Andrew that Neil didn't know what he looked like; apparently to the point where he'd decided to sub in for the mirrors he couldn't look into.

So now here they were, cards on the table and trying to put words to the faces they saw in front of them. Neil did not think himself a wordsmith, and Andrew was not a poet, but maybe it would be enough.

"But maybe you don't know exactly how blue," Andrew continued, and he leaned in closer with that gaze that rooted Neil to the spot. "They're like a lake when it's been frozen over in mid-winter. Or the colour of moonlight through mist at night." He paused, considering. "Piercing."

Piercing. Neil did not think of himself as piercing. He didn't like being looked at, regularly, but something about the way Andrew did it made it feel right. Serene and grounding. He could not stop thinking about what words he would use to describe Andrew's eyes. They kept rattling around in his brain: golden. earthy. amber. copper. honey. sun-kissed.

Renee had lent them art supplies, much to Andrew's chagrin, and they rested on the coffee table next to them. Neil reached for the watercolours and started mixing them around. Yellow, brown, green, a touch of black, white. When he was satisfied enough with a colour, he painted two splotches onto a blank sheet of paper, then turned it around so Andrew could see. "Yours."

Andrew's eyebrows flicked up somewhat as he turned his gaze to it. "My eyes?" he asked, deadpan, looking back at Neil, who nodded. "Draw the rest of me, then."

It wasn't really a question.

So they grabbed more colours, more pens, started sketching on their own canvases in silence, knees touching between them in wordless companionship until Andrew sat up and wiped some watercolour from the back of his hand.

Neil was covered in orange. When he finished, he turned his paper over so Andrew could see and took Andrew's drawing for himself.

It was a surprisingly skilled portrait and there were more details to his face than he'd thought. Freckles. A slight edge to his nose. Andrew had drawn and redrawn the exact angle of his jaw a few times, and he noted that, too. His hair he frequently saw bits of when it grew over his eyes, but to see it on a person, with eyes that were the frostiest blue, exactly like he'd been describing earlier, was another thing altogether. Neil didn't know what to do with the fact he was seeing himself through Andrew's eyes for the first time.

"You drew me in full gear," Andrew said as Neil looked up. "You've drawn the stitching around my racket but forgot to give me eyebrows."

Neil frowned as he peered over at the offending drawing. "Obviously you have eyebrows," he stated in defense. His wasn't a good drawing. It kind of looked like a ten year old had done it, and Andrew looked more like a school arts & crafts project than a human next to what he acknowledged was an immacculate representation of his Exy racket. Eventually, he drew a breath and let it out through his nose in frustration. "I'm not good at this."

"No," Andrew agreed, and Neil thought he heard a mixture of fondness and amusement in his tone as he set the drawing aside and leaned back into his space, reaching over for the watercolor-stained skin of his icy wrists. "Good thing I have an identical twin brother and I've always known exactly what I look like."

[insomniacauthorfromhell]

So ya know how 2012 TMNT and LEGO Ninjago were around at almost the same time? Like peak ninja times, my dude.

So like..since last December, I've been having these Elemental Turtles brainworms. (The main cast is inspired by the 2012 one but not exactly the same) and I'm kinda attempting to draw it when I get a new pen for my tablet.

The elements list that I have in mind is as follows and no, there is no prophesied Green saviour here, like there is in Ninjago:

-Leonardo : Water (Cause it feels perfect ngl)

-Raphael : Fire (That one 2012 episode ;D)

-Donatello : Earth (For plot reasons and also cause it'd be really cool)

-Michelangelo : Lightning (Not just cause of that happened in that Newtralizer arc, but also cause it matches his personality imo)

-Splinter : Wind (It'll delve deeper into a spiritual thing later on in my plot)

-April : Psychic (Like ik she has it in 2012 but it suits her so much that I don't wanna give her something else, also has plot purposes)

-Casey : Metal (Plot and cause it'd be fucking metal [pun intended] of him)

-Karai : Ice (Cause yes, just yes. Badass freezing her enemies because she can)

That's it for the most part. I don't want to make Shredder the Garmadon equivalent (cause I ain't doing Garmadon dirty like that, nuh uh) so I'll have to do a bit more thinking whether giving him an element (and if yes, which one?) would suit my plot line.

The characters will also be having their elements on their body, like birthmarks! While not in use, it'll be looking like an actual birthmark (eg: a darker green for the turtles) but when they use it, it'll glow with colour.

Example: For Leo, I'm planning on giving him a water drop mark on his throat (lol iykyk) that normally would be a bit darker than the rest of his green body but when he uses his water powers it'll be blue.

These marks will be something to earn, like how in Ninjago, the ninja had to unlock their true potential. So the first arc will be about that earning and all. The teens don't know what element they're gonna get until they earn it, in a way the element chooses it's weilder. Splinter will be making guesses but not all of it will be right. This Splinter will be inspired by CANON 2012 Splinter btw (none of that fanon abusive bs I keep seeing, they could never make me hate you 12! Splinter 😌)

Also I have many angsty, fluffy etc moments already planned out. Raph...Raph, the mental fuckery you'll be going through...hehehe >:)

I have fun facts too. Which I will reveal if anyone is interested in hearing one.

I also have two original characters in mind who have plot relevance. They're also going to have elements but I'll have to narrow it down a bit cause I have a few ideas for their elements which also will be affecting relationship dynamics depending on what the chosen element is so yeah, I have to give it more thought...

I'm not sure whether to include romance tbh... I'll think about it some more after I develop the platonic aspects of the relationships as well as character development.

Ice Cream Kitty supremacy btw, she lives forever in our hearts ✊️

Idk what to name this tbh, while it's inspired by 2012 TMNT, the characters will not be the same. There will be differences in personality and dynamics. If anyone has any ideas, comment it down, thanks! (When I name my fics, the titles get poetic and a tad too long for a title)

So yeah....

Elemental Turtles go brrrr 😋

[the-final-high-noon-rings]

(late) painting for day 7 of dr. carmilla week. prompt was death, but she's more of an un-dead type gal, so i tried to draw her alive(ish) in an empty grave.

@drcarmillaappreciationweek

[Image ID: A watercolour painting of Maki Yamazaki as Dr. Carmilla lying in an open grave from a bird's eye view, only showing mid-chest and upwards. She is a slim, tan, Japanese woman who has chin-length dark blue hair that has hints of teal, pointy ears, brown eyes, a sharp nose, and has makeup around her left eye that looks a bit like an upside-down lowercase T, with swirls as well as two dots right underneath her lashes. Carmilla's right eye is entirely closed, but her left eye is cracked slightly open as she looks at the camera, eyebrows furrowed as she tries to focus. She has a small smirk on her face. Carmilla's hands are crossed over her chest, loosely clasped together near her neck, with fingernails that are painted a dark brown. She wears a high collared white shirt, that looks purple in the lighting, which has small purple flower print on it, as well as a dark red vest. The background is a rough body shape of brown colours, meant to show the upturned dirt from a fresh grave. The linework of the painting is thick, and several parts are shaded with markers applied on top of the paint. Some of the paint is still wet, especially the background. Some of the linework runs, and the entire drawing has a pinkish tint, presumably from the pink lighting that can be seen in the paint's reflection. End ID]

original attempt below cut because i got a bit too ambitious with the posing i think

i had a vision for this piece. unfortunately i am not that good at perspective

[Image ID: A photograph of Kae's, the OP's, desk. On the left of the photo, there is a sketchbook, which has a half-finished painting of Doctor Carmilla in a grave, similar to the one above. Her hair is bluer than the previous painting, and the perspective is as if one was looking from the crown of her head down the rest of her body. She is winking at the camera, but her features are not as recognizable as being Dr. Carmilla as the first painting. She is wearing a dark brown shirt, with a longer-sleeved red shirt underneath, and blue pants. Below the drawing is a sketched nameplate/grave that says "Carmilla XX12-XX24". To the right of the drawing is an open case of watercolors. They are a bit messy, with the colour blue specifically splattered across much of the pallette. Near the top of the photograph, there is the partial view of several book spines as well as a cup of murky paint water and the edge of a mug. Several pens and highlighters are scattered across the desk, which is wood painted turquoise, with the grain visible. End ID]

[mightyray]

So someone on Discord suggested I draw Ray as the Green Lantern Ch'p after I mused what D list heroes I could draw Ray as. Drawing Ray as a lantern wasn't something I thought of, but I decided what the hell, why not and gave him Ch'p's colours.

This pic was my second attempt, my first attempt turned out nicely... till I forgot the ring and tried to draw it on with pen. Didn't work. I do like the logo on the second attempt more than the first. Looks more to form on Ch'p Ray's belly.

[layingeggs]

Hello new followers.

I like to draw! Do you like to draw? I think I used to be better, but I'm getting old and me hands are wobbly. But still, I like to draw.

My drawings go for 2 maybe 3 notes. Usually just from friends who love me. Occasionally from modest admirers.

I recently drew a Wallace and Gromit Gundam crossover comic. That got a lot more notes than I think I will ever get on anything ever. Small amount to any big account on here I guess but more than I ever get.

Some people have followed me from there. So, hi! This is my blog. Over here is the lid on my blog with the breathing holes punched in. Over here is my twig. And these are my posts.

Here's a little wasp I did! This is my first attempt with alcohol markers. Never used those before! Blending colours together with a colour marker is fun! Blending stuff with the colourless blender pen is a nightmare! How do people do that?

I attempted using the blender pen on the wings, to get that transparent look. Didn't work out so great!

Wasp not drawn from any photo or reference. Was trying to push myself and practise that wasp anatomy.

This is my daughter. Basically my favourite oc. Mimi the Clown. You can ask me questions about her and it will make me happy. You can ask her questions and I will try to sit her down and explain to her the people in the computer are asking her questions and see what she thinks. (I'll try to make time drawing her responses. I don't always have time for this, but it's a lot of fun when I can do that.)

And that's my blog.