#also me: keeps on using graphite on paper

[spelacchiotto]

he’s my buttercup seahorse schmoopy doodle he's my sugarboo he's my best friend he's my sunshine my baby my love, pt. 2

[sysig]

Goal: Be normal

Obstacle: Watching literally any interpretation of Treasure Island, apparently

[lordprettyflackotara]

Chapter Ten || Hitchhiker || The Proxies

tw: mental decline, depression discussed, toby’s a real creep in this one sorry, stabbing, blood, brief descriptions of gore, murder

<— previous chapter

It was not hard to see you were distraught. You stayed curled in your comforter, the safety of your bedroom the only source of comfort you could truly find. The boys tried to provide as much warmth and care as possible, going as far as to take shifts watching you sleep. Even with their watchful eyes guarding you, it didn’t make the nightmares go away. It didn’t make the static go away. It didn’t make the paranoia go away. Anywhere and everywhere you felt like you were being watched. You had disappeared off of the face of the planet, ignoring your job and Nova. The only two other people that cared about you.

You refrained from leaving the apartment, the fear of running into The Operator making you into a recluse. Toby knew there was no stopping it. The damage had already been done. The Operator had a fixation on you, there was no doubt about it. He toyed with the idea of how exactly he would come find you, with you living in a crowded apartment and all. The more Toby thought about it, he tried to put himself in his shoes. If he couldn’t get you out, what else would he do? As Toby’s gaze circled around your bedroom it hit him. He would lure you out.

There was no debate Toby didn’t like Nova. There wasn’t a tiny piece of him that felt any different. But he knew that The Operator would use her as a pawn in his game of chess. He slid off of your bed, his fingertips pushing some stray hairs out of your face. “I’m going to fix this. I-I’m going to fix you,” Toby whispered. You were fast asleep, your slumber only guaranteed for maybe another couple of hours. The insomnia you began to develop was becoming as bad as Tim’s. Toby slid out of your bedroom, tapping Brian awake from his slumber in your recliner. The blonde stood up, yawning briefly. “Where are you going kid?” He asked curiously. Toby grabbed his axe, slinging it over his shoulder.

“I’m g-going to fix this. Like I s-s-should’ve done a long time ago.”

Toby wasn’t nervous as he strolled up to Nova’s office. He knew it was vacant. He knew Nova was working late. Not only based on her beat up Toyota in the parking lot, but he also considered her consequential work ethic. For someone as paranoid as Nova, he would’ve thought she would’ve had better protective measures.

Nova sat in her office, worn down and exhausted. The desk lamp was the only thing keeping her awake, the excessive light blinding her sight from most of the room. In her hand sat a worn out pencil, the graphite scribbling the proxy symbol on a sheet of paper. “I used to draw those too you know,” Toby chuckled. He sat crouched on the windowsill, inviting himself inside once Nova’s gaze landed on him. She reached for her gun, shocked to find her secret spot empty. Toby held it up lazily with one finger, his eyes narrowing. “L-looking for t-t-this?” He questioned. He tilted his head to the side, before tossing Nova her python. Nova had no idea you stole it, her mind raveling as she tried to pinpoint when Toby broke in and took it. Or when he even had the opportunity to.

Immediately Nova held Toby at gunpoint, shutting off the safety without a second thought. “I was right all along. I knew it. You can’t have her Tobias,” Nova growled. Toby raised his eyebrows. “Yeah that’s right. I investigated all of you fucking freaks. Timothy Wright. Brian Thomas. Tobias Rogers. I know it all,” Nova spat harshly. Toby’s neck twitched, a giggle escaping his lips. “You know about The Operator then I ass-u-u-me,” Toby suggested. Novas eyebrows furrowed, as if she could’ve believe what the brunette was saying. Casually he strolled up to her desk, rummaging through the papers. Drawings of The Operator, ominous phrases, and eerie proxy symbols littered the pages.

“Oh b-boy. He sure does like you,” Toby mused, chuckling to himself. Nova readjusted her grip on her gun, brushing her hair out of her face. “How do I get rid of him? Explain yourself. Explain it!” Nova demanded. Toby let out a low whistle. He rocked back and forth on his heels, shaking his head. “There isn’t any e-escaping him. From the l-looks of it he’s embedded himself right in that brain of yours,” He concluded. He leaned forward, poking Nova’s forehead. Nova swatted his hand away, pointing her gun directly at his head. She rounded her desk, placing the metal right under his chin. “It’s not like it m-matters anyways. You’re not really the one he wants,” Toby informed her.

“What’s that supposed to mean you ticking time bomb?”

Toby seemed unnerved to have a gun pointed under his chin. He knew Nova’s trigger finger was growing heavy, yet he seemed unbothered. “Who else knows about us besides you? That’s t-tied into our l-little rebellion,” Toby questioned. Nova’s facade fell, her face growing pale. She lowered her gun. “Fucking hell. Why does he want y/n? Why does he want me?” Nova asked. Toby tilted his head to the side, shoving down his face mask. He delivered Nova a wicked grin, soaking in the fear that radiated off of her once she saw the side of his face. It was chewed straight through, the flesh absent and poorly healed. “I-I’m n-n-not sure. Why don’t y-you eat one of the blueberry muffins I m-made you and maybe it’ll jog my memory,” Toby suggested.

Nova cringed as she looked over at the trash can, piled with discarded papers. But on the very bottom, sat the untouched blueberry muffins. They had been sitting there for over a week, her stomach churning. She collected herself, glaring at Toby. “I don’t think so Tobias. You don’t get to win,” She hissed. She pushed the head of the gun harder against his chin, surprised the brunette had no reaction at all. “Y-you kill m-m-me you don’t get answers,” Toby chuckled. Nova frowned, knowing he was right. Even if she killed him off, thing one and two were one for vengeance. She cringed as she looked at her trashcan.

“I take a bite of the muffin, you give me answers right? Who’s to say you’re not lying?” Nova questioned. Toby shrugged, giving her a sly shit eating grin. “I guess that’s a chance you’ll have to take,” He snickered. Nova huffed as she trudged over to the trashcan. She threw her old coffee cups and crumpled papers aside. She cringed as she dug out the plate of blueberry muffins, the tinfoil now pulled back. Toby watched calmly as she took the paper wrapper off of one, her fingers shaking. “Y-you c-c-can’t possibly be t-that grossed out. You investigate corpses for a living,” Toby said sassily, rolling his eyes. Nova glared at him, shooting daggers in his direction. “I investigate homicides of innocent people you ticking fuckwad,” Nova snarled. She sighed, forcing herself to think of you as she took a bite of the expired food.

Toby took great joy in watching Nova’s face curl into disgust. She could taste droplets of the coffee she had drank days ago. Toby’s grin grew wider as she slowly chewed on the muffin. “Go o-on. Swallow it,” He purred. Nova contemplated shooting him right then and there, deciding against it. Oh, if only you knew how much she adored you. She forced herself to swallow, gagging on the taste as it traveled down her throat. “That wasn’t s-so hard. W-was it?” Toby taunted. Nova wiped her mouth with her sleeve, trying to get the taste out of her mouth. “Get on with it Tobias. I played your game. What does he want?” She questioned.

“What he’s doing to you is very different from what h-he’s doing to y/n. H-he just wants y-y-you to go crazy and kill yourself. But I see you’re a o-one tough cookie,” Toby praised mockingly. He went to grab her cheek tauntingly, Novas hand quick to swat his away. “B-but with her, he sees s-s-so much potential. The w-way she’s willing to die f-for us,” Toby explained. Nova’s eyes widened, her rage clouding her judgment as she repositioned her pistol. She pointed it at Toby’s face, pulling the trigger. Nova was stunned as nothing happened, her Python useless. Toby broke out into a mechanical laughter, one that only enraged Nova more.

“What the fuck?” She muttered. Toby grinned as he took the bullets out of his pocket, tossing them into the air. They scattered across the wooden floor, Nova quick to drop to her knees to collect them. With shaky hands she tried to reload her gun, Toby quick to squat down to her level. He gave her an egotistical grin, watching as she struggled to put the bullets in her python. “There’s a-a chance we can stop The O-Operator’s influence. B-but we can’t do it alone,” He said. This made Nova stop in her tracks, her chocolate eyes wondering over to him. Looking at him made goosebumps roam across her skin, his lack of a right cheek unsettling the closer he got to her.

“S-she’s going to need-d-d you. Even if we dont understand it,” Toby concluded. He rose to his feet, satisfied that he got his point across. Nova swallowed as she rose beside him, her gun now loaded with three shiny bullets. “What do I need to do?” She asked. Toby gave her a wicked grin, waltzing towards the open window. He grinned over his shoulder, sliding his mask back on, “Come with me.”

\/

“I don’t wanna do this guys. This is so stupid,” You protested. Hoodie and Masky had succeeded in getting you dressed up and ready for a nice dinner. What they had failed to account for was your protest. Despite their protection and consistent surveillance, it didn’t subside your paranoia. However, they couldn’t recall the last time you had a decent meal. Additionally, they couldn’t remember the last time they had seen you smile. They didn’t like Nova either, but between her and seeing you go insane, she was lesser of the two evils.

“You’re just going to have to trust us. This’ll be good for you,” Hoodie encouraged. You sighed, looking through the window of the fancy restaurant. Soft golden chandeliers lit each table, a thick white table cloth covering each one. The silverware looked like they were actual gold, each individual inside looking like a million bucks. You nervously tucked your hair behind your ears. “Okay fine. Just this one dinner. Then let me lay in bed for the next ten years,” You huffed. You stormed into the restaurant, Masky and Hoodie close behind you. “They should be here somewhere,” Masky muttered. You were under the impression you were only meeting Toby. “Who else is there? Guys I don’t want to meet anyone new,” You protested. That’s when you saw them.

Toby waved, a bright smile spreading across his lips. He wore a neat jet black tuxedo, his curls bouncing with life. Beside him sat Nova, a dark sapphire dress decorating her caramel skin. Her lips were dark red, smiling just as bright as Toby’s. You practically ran to her, attempting to not trip over your own heels or run into any of the waiters. You threw your arms around her in an embrace, soaking in her coconut scent. “What are you doing here?” You asked. You hadn’t seen Nova since you had ditched her at the hospital, stealing her python before dashing into the night. “Tobias invited me. I think it’s time the five of us have a serious discussion about The Operator,” She said firmly. You glanced at the boys for affirmation, Masky giving you a nod. “You know?” You whispered. Nova nodded, giving you a sad smile.

“You’re not the only person that slimy fucker has been terrorizing,” Nova chuckled dryly. The five of you sat down, your mood feeling evaluated for the first time in forever. You didn’t ask too many questions about Toby or Nova. Or why they both felt possessive enough to sit on either side of you. Toby’s hand sat on your upper thigh, Novas hand holding your own. You felt like you were missing something. Like something happened and they wouldn’t tell you. Masky and Hoodie were strangely transparent about their existence. “So you both only exist due to a series of unfortunate supernatural events that traumatized Timothy and Brian so much they developed you two?” Nova questioned. She poked her fork back into her pasta, swirling it as you nervously chewed on your steak.

“Thats about right,” Masky agreed. He kept his gaze on his own steak, cutting the meat with a sharp knife. “And what about you?” Nova questioned. She pointed her fork at Toby, who was thoroughly enjoying his chicken tenders and fries. “What about me?” Toby hissed. Nova squeezed your hand under the table. “You don’t have an alter so you’re insane right? You had a pretty extensive length of mental disorders according to your record,” Nova shrugged. You shot Nova a dirty look. “Hey lay off of the kid,” Masky intervened flatly. Hoodie quietly nibbled at his salad, watching the whole scene unfold.

You caught his gaze, the blonde subtly cocking his head towards the window. You almost missed what he was referring to, a streak of white dashing out of sight once you looked. “I don’t think I will. They have decent excuses but you don’t Tobias. So, explain it to me,” Nova spat. You removed your hand from hers, feeling Toby’s fingers dig into your thigh. “Nova that’s enough, it’s not your business,” You hissed. She refused to glance at you, her cold gaze still centered on Toby. “Considering he’s been making himself quite comfortable between your legs, I think it is,” She argued. You audibly scoffed, your patience running thin.

“It is not your fucking place to mother me-”

Your spitfire was cut short by Toby interrupting, “The only thing you need to k-k-know is that i’d never h-hurt her. But don’t think-k-k you’re in the same position.”

The table fell silent, your heart pounding as you stared down at your dinner plate. A wave of nausea washed over you, your face going pale. “Hey hey are you good?” Hoodie asked, changing the tables topic. You could feel your stomach churning. Masky rose to his feet. “He’s nearby. We need to go,” He said firmly. He threw a wad of cash on the table, uninterested in the social construct of waiting. You were more important. The five of you hurried out of the restaurant, Nova slinging your arm over her shoulders. Toby followed suit, the two of them helping you follow Masky and Hoodie.

“Staying in town is a negative. We need to leave as soon as possible,” Hoodie told Masky. Masky dug in his slacks pockets, searching for his beloved box of cigarettes. “We need to ditch the car. Too traceable. There’s a train down east street. We can go down south from there,” Masky suggested. You could faintly hear static, your head beginning to spin. “I don’t think she’s going to make it to the train. We need to stop by her apartment. Or mine,” Nova interrupted. Masky and Hoodie shared a look, both of them reaching in their suit jackets and sliding on their mask. It was unusual that someone were to interrupt their planning. Whether they liked it or not, the dynamic of the group was changing with Nova’s addition. You felt faint, gripping onto Toby for support.

“I’m gonna be sick,” You groaned. You tried to hold back your nausea, swallowing when you felt yourself gagging. You could hear Masky and Nova bickering, their voices growing more dull. “Her apartment is a death sentence!” Masky growled. Nova let your arm down, getting in his face. “So is having her get on a goddamn train when she’s five seconds away from passing out!” She snarled. It was then you noticed it, the flash of white from earlier. You tilted your head to the side. Was this an illusion? Was the person you were seeing real? The white was so blinding to you. Why wasn’t anyone else noticing?

You glanced up at Toby, whose attention was focused on Masky and Nova arguing. You tried to understand what you were seeing, your eyes finally able to make out a mask. It was a human shaped figure, running towards the five of you. You tried to make sense of who the target was, realizing that the persons gaze seemed to be centered on Nova. Its head hadn’t cocked in your direction once, despite you looking right at the person. In the dim streetlight you were able to see a flash from a blade, your mouth falling open to say something. Anything. Your body sprung into action before you could warn anyone, your veins pumping with adrenaline.

You shoved Toby away, pushing Nova out of the way as the attacker trudged forward. It all happened so fast, you hardly had time to process the flash of hot white pain that electrified your body. You fell forward, your knees hitting the pavement. The sharp pain lodged into your stomach, your eyes widened so large you feared they were going to pop out of your head. Time seemed to slow, your hand shaking violently as you touched your wound. A kitchen knife was lodged into your stomach, the blood soaking your dress. Your vision became spotty, your gaze finally looking upwards. Toby and Masky were on the attacker in the blink of an eye.

“It had to be done! She’s the target and you know it!” The attacker hissed. Hoodie grabbed her by her hands, shoving them roughly behind her back. Masky delivered a sharp uppercut to her jaw, knocking her mask off of her face. Toby knew Kate to be obedient to The Operator, but he never would’ve imagined she would’ve done something like this to them. You fell forward, choking on your own spit as Nova tried to hold you upright. “Dont touch it. You can’t pull it out,” Nova rambled. She grabbed your shoulders, laying you on your back. She held you against her chest, tears welting up in her eyes. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” She whispered. She brought her hand to your hair, stroking it as you watched the seen before you unfold.

“I’ll fucking kill you Kate! I’ll fucking kill you!” Masky roared. Black spots began to appear in your vision, each movement you tried to make only sending a wave of pain up your spine.

Masky delivered sharp and powerful punches to Kate’s face, a sharp snap echoing throughout his ears. Her jaw hung loosely, blood traveling down her nose. “This is the way it has to be! You know better than this Masky!” Kate argued weakly. She was no longer thrashing under Hoodie’s grasp, instead struggling to stand on her own. Masky grabbed her face, a painful whimper escaping her lips as he glared down at her. “You are so lucky my girl is watching, otherwise i’d gut you like a fish,” He snarled. He lifted his mask, spitting in her face. He struggled to keep his composure, fighting the urge to beat her to death.

“W-wait so you won’t kill me?” Kate questioned. Masky turned around, his devious gaze meeting Toby’s. The younger brunette had taken out a smaller axe he carried on his person, twirling it in his hand. Masky sighed, looking over at you for confirmation. He never wanted this for you. But as the blood pooled around your body, he shrugged off any feelings of remorse or reconsideration. “I won’t, but he will,” Masky replied plainly. He walked past Toby, the boy quick to raise his axe. Masky relished in the sound of the sharp blade connecting with Kate’s skull, another loud crack sending sadistic pleasure down his spine.

—> next chapter

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 20

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

Not long after you close yourself in your room you hear the front door close. The house is silent but not calm. While you want everything to just go back the way it was, being alone with your mom doesn’t promise you peace. She never takes it well when she doesn’t get her way. 

You have your table pulled up the bed, doodling random petals and stems, some connected and some not. The sunlight beams through the curtains and shines onto the paper as you scratch the graphite over it. You cup your chin as you bide your time, dreading the inevitable. You’ll have to face her again and you have a lot to atone for. 

The rustle of leaves is underlined by the darting whistle of some distant bird. Along the edge of your vision, you sense movement and peer over at the window, expecting a flutter of wings. Instead, you see a shadow looming in Steve’s window, just across the gap between your houses. You don’t recognise that man; it must be the friend he mentioned. 

You slide the table out and stand slowly, cautious as you try not to draw attention. The man has grey hair like Steve, he’s a little shorter by your measure, and built a bit broader. He turns to lean just beside the window and you carefully tug closed your curtain. You keep forgetting to do that although you can’t even remember opening it most times. 

The noise of your movement draws your name from the front room. You huff and face the door. It’s time. You emerge and go to find your mother on her recliner. She stares despondently at the ceiling. 

“Whatever you said to Steve...” she mutters. 

“I didn’t...” you can’t even finish the lie. You didn’t say anything but you also don’t know everything you did around Steve. 

“I don’t want to hear it. You reel it in,” she sits the chair up straight and winces at the jarring motion. “Whatever you’re up to, it stops now.” 

You look at the floor, “sorry, mom.” 

“Ugh, you’re useless, you know that? If you hadn’t been hanging around like some troll, he would’ve stayed,” she snarls. "If you weren't here, everything would be so much better."

“Mm, but I saw... his friend--” 

“Oh, shut up and go away,” she snaps and reclines again. “Tomorrow, he’s taking me out. Away from you. You can stay and clean up your mess.” 

You back away without another word. She’s only looking to argue. It will be good for her to get out. Somewhere that isn’t a hospital. And she’s right, this place could use another clean, and you could use the distraction. 

🏡

As promised, your mother leaves with Steve. That she’s ready to leave the house before noon is a feat on its own, not to mention how she woke up before you. Still, you made her coffee for her and reminded her about her medicine. Those parts went as usual. 

Alone, you feel lighter but not free. You sweep and mop and make sure all the dishes are done and away. You even make sure to use the old vacuum to clean up your mom’s recliners and the carpet in the front room. A spritz of freshener makes the air a little less stale. 

You finish around one and go back to your room. You take out your pencils and set to work on a new picture. No more amaryllis; you’ve moved on to morning glories. It’s so beautiful how they open with the sun.

You use your colour pencils, some of them so short you can’t even sharpen them, to give dimension the broad petals. You lose yourself in the task, fingertips a medley of hues as you switch between shades and blending stick. You have your forehead in your hand, your shoulders hunched, and your eyes laser focused.

It’s only your name that breaks your reverie. You blink and sit up, the ache setting into your knuckles as they have a moment to rest. You door is open. 

“Hey, sweetie,” Steve says, “we’re back.” 

“Oh,” is all you can utter. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” he has a hand on his hip. You wonder if he’s been there a while. “Not to intrude but... could I get a peek?” 

You stare at him for a moment, confused. Then look down at the page. It’s mostly done, you guess. Doesn’t matter, really. There’s worse things to judge you about. 

You set down the pencil and lift the book. He breaks the threshold of your room and crosses to look closer. He carefully puts his hand next to yours, silently asking permission to take it. You hand it over and he raises it closer to squint at the lines. 

“This is beautiful,” he remarks, “you should think about my offer. We could go out and find some good scenery,” He suggests as he continues to examine your work, “and you shouldn’t be all bent over like that. You can always use my studio if you need--” 

“I’m fine,” you shrug. 

“For now, but one day that’s catch up to you. Trust me,” she offers the book back to you. “So... do you only draw flowers?” 

You close the book and pack away the pencils. 

“Mostly,” you answer. 

“Wow, to be honest, I always found them challenging. No two flowers are alike, right? Every rose has different petals, every tulip a different number of stamens,” he says. “So how was your day?” 

“Is my mom here?” You asks, ignoring his question. 

“Yeah, she’s all tired out. She’s relaxing. Still early though,” he checks his watch, “you wanna come over for a swim?” 

You’re flumoxed by the pace of his conversation. The constant pivoting has you off-balance. You’re wholly unready for any of it. Those hours alone have left you in an odd daze. 

“Thanks, but uh, I don’t have a suit,” you say. 

“You don’t?” He clucks, “well that’s too bad. You could just wear some shorts and tank or whatever. No one around to see.” 

“It’s okay,” you rebuff again. “I’m still pretty tired.” 

“Oh, of course, sweetie, maybe another time. Did you take another pill? I know they really get to you.” 

“Erm, no.” 

“You’re going to, right? You need to be consistent, you know? To see if it works.” 

“Right, I know,” you murmur guiltily. You’d forgotten all about the boxes in the cupboard. 

“Now, I’m only looking out for you. I mean, you take care of your mother, make sure she takes her meds, but what about you? Who’s looking after you, sweetheart?” 

You hug yourself and stand. You untangle your arms from around you and push the table back to the corner. He might mean well but you’re just embarrassed. No one does care about you and you’re okay with that. You have to be, you can’t change it. 

“It was rhetorical,” he says, “sweetie, I’m going to look after you. I promise.” He’s pauses as if waiting for an answer, “haven’t I?” 

“Hmm,” you turn to him and push out your lower lip. 

“Haven’t I taken care of you?” He asks. 

You nod, “yes. Thank you...” 

“You and your mom, right? That’s how it’s gonna be. The three of us.” 

What he’s saying, the way he’s saying it, it’s making you uneasy. You tuck your lip under your teeth and let it pop back out. He tilts his head as his eye flicker eerily. 

“Well, I’m going to stay the night to keep an eye on mom. She’s having a bad day. She did a lot so... I’ll get started on dinner and you take your medicine, okay?” 

Your heart pounds in your ribcage. There’s something about his tone. He’s not asking, he’s telling. You look at him in your doorway, noting how he fills the whole thing. Thinking of how you couldn’t get past him or move him, even if you had the courage to try. You reach over to steady yourself with the table. 

“Sure,” you agree softly. 

“You’re not busy tomorrow?” He wonders. 

You blink and shake your head, “n... no?” 

“Good, we have a surprise for you,” he grins. “Big one.” 

“Al--alright,” you resist as shiver. 

“You should dress up nice, too. Maybe that cute little dress you got,” he taps on the doorframe and takes a step back, “I like that one.” 

He winks and spins on his heel, leaving you in a queasy silence. A surprise? What could he possibly mean? 

[iamarealkat]

Kind of couldn’t let humanity forget about this.

About Hannibal’s drawing pencils…(Decided to make a whole separate post about Hannibal Lecter’s drawing supplies to keep all the things I figured out after really attentive, extensive and obsessive research & viewing. Thanks to @existingcharactersdiehorribly for signal boosting my original questions! Sharing the fruit of my labours for the good of all Fannibals.)

1. Free range psychiatrist drawing habits

Hannibal DOES, in fact, draw with Tombow MONO graphite drawing pencils! (Originally, I just tossed the idea out there because these beautiful Japanese pencils seemed to fit his style, and it was an accurate guess.) These are professional drawing pencils, high-density graphite, strong point, smooth line. Hannibal has several at hand when he is drawing (which makes sense since his drawings have different values): in one scene, he’s shown with four different pencils while working on one sketch.

In case you want to sketch like Baltimore socialite Hannibal, this is a Tombow MONO.

He sharpens them with a scalpel (again, makes sense, a blade is preferable to a pencil sharpener for a better point).

Hannibal doesn’t seem to use a kneaded eraser, which is strange, nor have I spotted a blending stump (tortillon), but he has an ergonomically shaped triangular eraser. It looks like one of Faber-Castell grip erasers, the one Hannibal uses is the triangular shape but in a dark colour, possibly dark green (?). He also has a brush (to brush off the bits of eraser from the drawing).

2. Cooped up BSHCI resident drawing habits

Apparently Dr Alana Bloom provides Hannibal with quality drawing supplies. Unlike his usual set of hexagonal graphite pencils, Hannibal is seen with a single black round one. The lead is very black, suggesting a mix of charcoal and wax or charcoal and lead. It would have a soft matte finish. After squinting about 1001 times watching it roll over Hannibal’s table for half a second, I am certain it is Sanford Prismacolor Premier Colored Pencil, 935 Black, which is actually much more expensive than a single MONO drawing pencil (rough estimate: approx. $6.50 for 935 Black vs. approx. $1.50 for a Mono?). Alana is really pampering Hannibal.

In case you want to sketch like Hannibal in BSHCI, this is a Sanford Prismacolor Premier 935 Black.

(NB: Hannibal also uses a different pencil while in BSHCI, specifically, during the coversation with Alana about his insanity plea. The non-drawing tip is similar to the Tombow MONO, but I can give no definitive opinion yet.)

So far I haven’t been able to identify Hannibal’s drawing paper (loose sheets). He seems to use at least two types, one which appears heavier and with a warm tint (example), the other less heavy, smooth and prone to minor creasing (example), probably for looser preliminary sketches? But there’s also an unfinished study of a woman on a warm-tinted (or perhaps yellowed with age?), thinner, slightly creased paper (this one). Examples from NBC Hannibal site.

If you have any ideas about the grain, weight, tint, and brand of Hannibal’s drawing paper, or any observations of his use of erasers and blending stumps, please let me know! Or just chime in if you, too, care about Hannibal’s drawing supplies.

cc: trobador (banned I think?)

[rampantram]

(traductor bc i'm Bad in English)

I love how you draw and until recently I realized that your drawings are almost all traditional (🤯) I wanted to ask, what kind of light/Filters do you use to take your photos and make them look so clear?

(And if by some chance I got confused and you do everything digital, it's a wow for my little brain)

No worries! Thank you for taking the time to submit your question~

I’ve done primarily digital art in the past (it always started with pencil on paper, but I later traced over it in Photoshop or CSP) but all of my Cult of the Lamb art has been traditional with some digital edits.

You asking about this got me thinking on how to put together a full run-down of how I do my art, but since I’m away from home (my scanner, computer, etc.) I’ll just give a short(ish) answer for now:

- Starting off, I try to keep my lines as clean as possible, and a kneadable eraser really helps with this since you can pinch the ends to a point to clean up in smaller areas and rub it over your sketch lines without completely erasing them or leaving behind marks or residue (I definitely recommend the Faber-Castell brand because they’re the most pliable ones I’ve used, last a long time so long as you keep them clean, and are widely available in arts & crafts stores as well as online)

- Obviously adjust these to your preferences, but when taking pictures of art on my phone (what I’ve been doing the last week or so) I reduce the Saturation to 0 to make it completely grayscale, up the Brightness (brightening the white of the paper), as well as raise the Black Point (darkening the pencil lines) ((also these are how those settings are named for iPhone, so it might vary between devices))

- When working with digital art software, the Levels tool is going to be the version of the Brightness & Black Point adjustments mentioned for mobile pictures; definitely have the Preview option applied, if available, so you can see the changes you’re making before accepting them (of course you can always Undo said change if you don’t like it).

Overall, though, the more work you put in when working on paper, the less adjustments and edits you’ll have to do later, so don’t skip on cleaning up lines, stray dots, graphite scratches, etc.

Anyway, I’m gonna’ leave things there, but I hope this helps for now! Happy drawing~! ✏️✨

[croakingravenstudio]

A small selection of photos and tiny colour studies in watercolour.

I've been on a working holiday in Oban, Scotland to gather inspiration and experiences for new art work. I also wanted to meet (in person at last!) Annie, the lovely owner of The Jetty Gallery where eight of my original paintings are available to buy.

Art process: when I'm in the collecting experiences phase of making a body of new work I make very few sketches, drawings or studies. Instead I soak up the moment like a sponge, absorbing as much sensory information as possible and using my internal felt sense and emotions to deepen the experience. Although I do take a lot of photos they are used later as a way to access my memories of that moment rather than as an image to copy onto paper. It's the soul-feel of these memories that I tap into when I draw and paint.

At the end of each day I review the photos taken, decide which to keep, and crop the ones to zoom in on a detail which was the reason for taking that photo. In the past I've deleted photos because I couldn't remember why I had taken them and subsequently lost a detail of the shape of a particular tree or a small pattern!

Behind the scenes: I went to The Apothecary Gallery in Thornton, West Yorkshire, UK to see Steven Spencer's work. The stand out pieces for me were his graphite and charcoal drawings which immediately caught my attention as soon as I entered the room.

Returning to my website after a break has prompted me to review it. I've started making tweaks to better reflect future plans. The time of year has something to do with it, I'm sure. I find autumn a quieter and slower season, a time for reflection, clearing unwanted “stuff” and making space for ideas to take shape.

[crosseyedcricketart]

art tips

here's some traditional art tips from me:

acrylic painting:

different brands do different things with their paint and one of them has to do with pigment characteristics versus consistency. For example, most of Liquitex’s paints are the same texture and consistency because they adjust their formula to act as such, whereas Golden Acrylics doesn’t and the pigments characteristics are allowed to shine through. Learning about specific pigments can be a pain but it can also help you make sure your painting ends up how you wanted it to.

if you’re doing a layered painting “proper painting”- THIN LAYERS. THIN THIN LAYERS. acrylic loves to clump up on itself like nail Polish. Go slow and pay attention to how it dries.

acrylic paint appears lighter than how it will dry. If you’re planning a color scheme, get some paper or a sketch page and swatch your colors and let them completely dry. They will also appear a lot lighter if you dilute them with water.

one note of the characteristic of acrylic paint is that it doesn’t tend to have the depth or luminosity of oil paint. If you get the right paints, you can do it. Some paints are more transparent and they work great for this. Work in thin layers, layer and layer and layer, and add opaque paints to add definitive layers so once the painting is done, there is depth. Phthalo paints work great for this.

when mixing colors, the paint can start to look foggy, and a lot of times this is from air being whipped into the paint. If you’re worried that this foggy paint won’t look how you wanted it to, swatch it and let it dry. In my experience, it applies and dries fine.

oil painting:

this is for really people who had terrible instructors or self taught: fat over lean does matter. fat over lean is the concept that the oilier paint should be for the final layers while the thinned out paint, or lean paint, is for the first layers. this helps to prevent cracking on both traditional oils and water mixable oils. so your leanest paint is for your under painting while your fattest paint is your final layers. this isn’t really a “learn the rules to break them” concept, it’s more of a “you want your painting to survive more than 5 years” concept.

oil paint appears the same color it will dry as if it is at normal opacity. This gets effected by diluting or fattening the paint, however.

if you’re gonna paint on paper with oil paint, use thick paper. I mean at least 300g/140 lb paper. If you can, prime it with gesso. And it’ll work great.

Water mixable oil paints work the same as traditional oil paints without the need for solvents or mineral spirits.

watercolor & colored pencils:

colored pencils: treat these like newborns. gentle. the pigment can break easily, like pencil graphite can. use circles to blend and lay down a more opaque layer. sharpen them gently. i have a whole separate, manual sharpener for my colored pencils.

watercolor paintings: use cotton paper or paper with cotton in it. trust me it works better. the paper warps less and you can add more water than just normal paper. cotton paper is more expensive though. kinda like using wood board instead of canvas for an oil painting.

Watercolor: take care of your brushes like they are your one and only begotten son, okay? You can paint with a messed up brush in acrylic or oil but watercolor depends on the brush a lot of times.

general art tips:

Get a heavyweight paper sketchbook if you want to sketch out paintings or swatch paint and keep them for future reference.

Paint in general: PAY ATTENTION TO THE LIGHTFASTNESS ! This is very important if you ever intend to have your art in galleries or for sale. Lightfastness just means how long the pigments in your paint stay the same as when they were packaged as when they are on your painting. Improved lightfastness pigments are normally marked with “permanent” in their names, like “permanent alizarin crimson”.

General safety: PICK UP YOUR PAINT WATER OR SEAL IT IF YOU HAVE PETS!! Even if they won’t get fatally sick, it won’t make them feel good, and in my experience they don’t care if the water is bright red.

Painting: have a designated paint water cup. Do not drink Out of this cup. Learn it is a paint water cup. Then you will Not drink out of paint water cup.

GET SOME BRUSH SOAP!! Get it!! I promise you it makes a difference. If you can’t invest in any, use something like Dawn or Mrs. Meyers dish soap but keep an eye on how dry the brushes are if they are natural hair. The paint soap I use is the Masters brush cleaner and preserver and I got a massive tub of it for $20 at my local art store.

find a local art store if you are able! And I do not mean Michael’s or Hobby Lobby. I mean local. A lot of times they’re competing with these stores and they have cheaper prices and some even have student/professor discounts. The one I go to has a lot of stuff under MSRP and I get a discount. And they don’t sell any bad quality items.

if you’re struggling with a concept, find a book on it. Internet Archive as a library with a lot of art books, some stores sell art books. Art books are useful insight; even if you don’t agree with the author, it can help you realize what you’re trying to achieve. However, if you’re buying it, make sure to skim it and see if it’s actually useful for you. I have a lot of DK published art books.

if you feel stagnant in your art, look at art. I mean it. Look at photography, painting, fashion, sculpture, jewelry— look at things. This is how I ended up painting fish. And guess what? I freaking love painting fish. I again have a library of books just so I can look at them For inspiration.

General art: if you want to be able to travel with your supplies but don’t know how to do so, let me give you some tips in this tip: Get a massive bag. I mean a big ole canvas bag. I got one from Aldi for $8 that works great. If you already have one, even better. If you have a big enough backpack, you can use that too. Get a palette that can cover. You can DIY one, probably, or you can buy one. Then if you have any wet paint, you don’t have to throw it out or risk getting it everywhere. If this isn’t a concern of yours, no worries. Use a hair tie or scrunchie to bundle your brushes together. This keeps them from going everywhere. Situate your paints so they won’t be crushed if you’re taking tubes. Bring a small amount of brush cleaner with you. I reused a skincare jar for mine. Bring what you’re going to paint on.

General art: reuse jars. I mean it. I have some skincare jars that I’ve reused to hold paint oil and brush cleaner and I use old pasta sauce jars for brush cups. They work great.

here’s how to wash off different paints from your skin- oil paints— get a true soap. Dish soap works too. Acrylic paint— let it dry and you can brush it off with a nail brush or old toothbrush. watercolor paint- wipe it off with a wet wipe or a dampened paper towel/hand towel. If you’re going to use a hand towel, have a designated towel since it can stain.

Stretched canvas; if you’ve damaged or pierced your canvas, you can probably fix it with gesso and acrylic paint, or just acrylic paint. You can also sew the canvas back if you really want to save it.

Here’s some art stuff I like and use but you don’t need it:

Masterson oil palette

Pentalic Nature Sketch 25% cotton sketchbook

Winsor & Newton Artisan Water Mixable oil Colour

Golden Professional acrylic heavy body paints

The Masters Brush cleanser and preserver

Liquitex palette knives

[stuck-in-2012]

A proper Christman gift

S01E03 Doomed

“I made an exact mashed potato replica of principal coulson!” Sam smiled as he held out the faux head on a tray.

“...and a potato sculptor,” Peter thought to himself.

S01E09 Field Trip

“Hey check it out!” Sam turns over his shoulder to show the coloured sketch he drew to Peter. “Pretty cool right? I’m gonna see if Fury will pay for the spikes.”

S01E17 Snow Day

“Uhh my bad.” Sam frowned down at Luke as he dumped out the sand he intended to use on his now ruined sculpture.

S02E02 Electro

“You just got own-dizzled, old style!” Sam held out the large paper he'd been using for the game of pictionary.

AKA: no one talks about how much of an artist Sam is! / The first holiday episode made me mad, so I added a happy ending.

“Bunny slippers are just… ach!”

Danny and Peter made eye contact at Sam’s reaction. Pete had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing and spoiling everything, though he could see the tiny hint of mischief in Danny's smile.

After getting the oversized hat, Peter looked back at Sam’s disgruntled face, allowing himself to snerk and giggle. Sam made a glare and went to lash out at Pete being an ass but was cut off when Danny also gave a small huff. Peter took off the hat, smiled, and reached behind the couch. “Dude, we’re not that mean.”

Pete pulled out a large wrapped object. At seeing the colourful paper, Sam shoved the gag-gift and box onto the floor. The boy was skeptical given the relation between Spidey and Nova, but Danny was in on it too -and Peter said “we”- so Sam had some trust that whatever was in this box would actually be a gift. The fact that it was a semi large box didn’t hurt his intrigue, either. The box was about two by one foot but only three inches tall, give or take.

Peter stepped over to Sam's place on the couch and handed him the box, Sam's hand bobbed down, surprised at the weight. Not heavy, but heavi-er­ than he was expecting. Peter and Danny both had beaming smiles, they almost seemed more excited for Sam’s gift than he was.

“Ya gonna open it or what?” Ava snarked.

Sam rolled his eyes at her and tore into the paper. The first satisfying shred exposed a leathery texture. Sam ran his fingers over the surface, again surprised, before continuing. Revealed, was a large though thin case with golden coloured clasps and handle to carry.

“A brief case?” Sam had no issues this evening sharing displeasure.

“It’s what's inside the case, moron.” May nudged Peter lightly at his insult.

“We do believe you will be rather fond of its contents.” Danny’s smile had only grown bigger as the case was unveiled.

Sam flipped the latches in sinque and leant back as though something would jump out at him. He opened the case a crack to get a preview of what may be inside and was greeted with some odd shapes and bright colours. When the case was open fully, one would think it was full of cash with how Sam’s face lit up in wonder. His jaw dropped gently as his eyes practically sparkled.

“ih… It’s ok if you don’t like it.” Peter’s brow knit with worry.

Sam slammed the case closed and hugged it to his chest. “Don’t you dare!” He gave Peter a noticeably exaggerated expression of ‘I’m warning you’ and gave an extra lean away for emphasis.

“What is it, Sam?” May asked, almost coy. She knew of Peter's plan to do a gag gift but wasn’t aware of what the proper gift was.

Sam stumbled over words as an unbreakable smile stretched across his face. Not able to get out any coherent words, he opened the case back up and lay it flat on his lap. All along one side was a smooth gradient of coloured pencils. Stretched across the bottom, another pallet of oil paint tubes. White and metallic ink pens, oil pastels, a paint brush array, and collection of charcoal and graphite pencils.

“Damn,” Luke dragged out in approval.

Excited at Sam’s joy over something he did, Peter bounced with an open smile. “Oh it gets better.” Sam looked over in excitement and bafflement. How could this get even better?! “You see the little loops in the middle of the bottom? Pull.”

Sam did as instructed and the inside came out and split into two supported shelves. Underneath was again a full pallet of water colour paints and fancy markers. Sam sputtered and floundered over all the supplies.

“Sorry the top doesn’t open, too.” Peter teased apologetically.

Sam sputtered and waved his hands over the rainbows in his lap looking at Peter with a gleeful face. He, May, and Danny laughed happily at Sam’s reaction to the gift. Sam’s hands hovered over the different supplies, hesitant to disturb the pristine packaging each different material had.

Ava gave a light laugh as she said, “I think you broke him.”Sam sent a heatless glare at the girl before finally audibly laughing. He gave Peter and May an inquisitive look before giving a reverse not in Danny’s direction at the realization. This was no doubt expensive. There's no way the Parkers would be able to afford it without some juggling or over time but thankfully Pete went to Danny about it. If just Peter had busted his ass to make the cash, Sam would take it with no hesitation but seeing as May seemed in on everything, Sam didn’t like the idea of her putting in so much extra effort for something so frivolous. But Danny’s loaded, so forget all of that.

[continue?]

[twentydaysofmay]

I drew this way back in April, but hadn't posted it on this website until now.

Information and context under the cut!

The character on the left is my OC, who is basically a fusion of a few Pokémon:

Clefairy, because it's one of my favorites. Not only have I always found them cute, but I also sympathize with them - it was supposed to be Ash's main Pokémon before they scrapped it and replaced it with Pikachu, which made me very sad when I first learnt about it. However, I didn't use the official design, but rather these redesigns of Clefairy and Clefable by @new151, because they play into the theme of "What if Clefairy wasn't replaced?", and I found them more interesting.

The entire Togepi line, because they're cute too and flying is cool.

Smeargle, because I want to be primarily an artist, although it's the most subtle one out of the three - the only influences visible in the image are the stripes on the limbs.

Like a rodent's front teeth, her graphite claws never stop growing, and she constantly needs to wear them down to keep them short. She does this by doodling little sketches on everything she can, from paper to desks to walls to rock. She also has the ability to turn them into diamond, but that costs her a lot of magical energy.

And the character on the right represents Glass Joe, a weak but determined Frenchman from Punch-Out. I combined his design from the Wii version of the game with the following Pokémon:

The Clefairy redesigns again, because I want him to be cute too, and also similar to me!

Delcatty, because who doesn't love a catboy?

Dedenne, because he is French and so I wanted to include a Pokémon from Kalos (which is based on France), but it only ended up being visible in the tail.

Hitmonchan, because he's a boxer, what else is he gonna fight like?

I'd also like to give a shoutout to @pinkpencilqueen44 for motivating me to finally post this. Their drawings strongly reminded me of my ideas, and helped me throw away any embarrassment about sharing this work.

[ask-meowscarada]

Seeking Star Sending Surprises!

The moment Charade catches word of a community gift-giving event, she gathers her team members and sits them down to eagerly explain the terms. Although Riddle initially refuses to participate, the other three plead and gradually wear him down. The very instant Riddle utters the word, "fine", Charade takes off at full speed, returning moments later with pencils and paper for the four of them.

It takes several days for everybody to be satisfied with their lists, but once they are, Charade collects them all to deliver to this mysterious Star Sender.

———

Charade

Charade’s wishes are written playfully (misspellings and all), with little doodles in the margins depicting each item on her list.

∙ mint things! ♡ mint candy, mint tea, mint ice cream, etc etc. ∙ a bouque of lavender! ∙ a gracidea flower - real ones are hard to find but i’d be just as greatful to have a fake one ∙ board games to play with my friends! ♡ ∙ PLUSHIES!!!!! ∙ also after you’re done opening presents please deliver all empty boxes to me please I LOVE BOXES!!!!!!!!!

———

Blackjack

Even with his flower pod hands, Jack keeps his writing neat, if a little unsteady.

Dear stranger, Thank you for taking the time to read my letter! The things I've written here are part of a bigger project of mine. I understand some of these are very rare, so it's okay if you're not able to give any of these as gifts. I'll be extremely grateful for anything! - Any Evolution stone - A type-enhancing item such as a Miracle Seed, Poison Barb, Dragon Fang, etc. - An artifact from the Ruins of Alph - Books or other information about the RKS System project - Any kind or number of Tera Shards

———

Party Trick

Almost all of Tricky’s letter is written in all caps, the graphite burnished deeply into the paper.

I HAVE NO NEED FOR YOUR PALTRY GIFTS THE CAT TELLS ME THIS STATEMENT IS “TOO MEAN”. SHE THINKS I’M NOT “GETTING INTO THE HOLIDAY SPIRIT”. FINE. HERE IS MY “HOLIDAY SPIRIT” LIST.

What follows is an incredibly long and absurd list of impossible-to-obtain items that includes famous works of art, government documents, and siege weaponry. However, at the very end is a footnote written in very small print, made deliberately easy to miss:

this list isn’t meant to be taken seriously. if you want to do something for me, please, get something for jack instead. you’d really make him smile. that’s all i want.

———

Riddle

Riddle’s printing has different consistencies throughout, with rather messy formatting; it’s as if he spent the longest on his list, adding and changing things on different days using different pencils. Still, the end result is legible, despite the corrections and scribbles.

Don’t feel obligated to get me anything from this list. I don’t know the limits on what’s acceptable to ask from a stranger. If you're so incensed, however, I want you to share something sentimental with me. ⁃ Something handmade. ⁃ Photos from a place you've traveled. ⁃ Your favourite recipe. ⁃ A copy of a poem, song, or other piece of writing you enjoy. ⁃ Something that represents your home. ⁃ Anything you can think of similar to the above. Thank you for your time and consideration.

The last few lines of Riddle's letter have been written over something else that he erased. Looking closely, it reads:

If you want, maybe after this we can exchange addresses and be pen pals.

———

(( Whether you're reading this out of curiosity or because I'm your Star Sending recipient, hi there!! With four characters, I figured I'd leave a lot for you to choose from so you can do what's most comfortable for you. It's your choice if you want to take a more serious or silly approach!

Charade's list is the most straightforward, and depending on what you pick, can end up being lighthearted or sentimental! She'll be equally appreciative of any of her wishlist items, including the boxes :D

Blackjack and Tricky's lists are intertwined, and Jack's wishes are largely plot-relevant. If you're up for that, you're absolutely free to fulfill any of his wishlist items, but it's not a big deal if you don't (I have a contingency plan)! The one exception I have is if you decide to do the Tera Shard request, please keep the number low (pretty much no showing up with 30 or more Tera shards)!

Riddle's list leans more towards serious, but if you want to engage him in a silly way, please do! As a character, he takes himself more seriously than I tend to depict him, so it's up to you if you wanna play around with that or not!

I'm really excited for this event! I hope you have fun, too! ))

[omies-odd-writing-spot]

Lifeboat 07 Weavers

[story also on Ao3]

“Can I ask a favor Lana?” Sesa asked in a low voice, looking around carefully as she set the crate down on a bench out of the way. Putting a few small papers down on the top of the heavy crate. The pen and the paper from the wishboat. 

Sesa checked around to be sure no one was around, did not even catch any scents. The giant woman pulled her shirt forward to look down.

Lana craned her head back, confused but asked back in a puzzled tone. “With what?”

“If I show you how to spell something, and help support the pen… could you help copy it in smaller text?” Sesa asked, carefully reaching into her bra and pulling Lana out. Opening her hand beside the paper that was spread out on the fishy smelling crate. Lana had to sit still for a few moments, disoriented to say the least. “Sorry… was that too fast?”

“Little,” Lana took a few slow deep breaths, it smelled…nice. A mix of a sea breeze through the woods. She looked around after sliding off the large curve of fingers, “What do you want me to…. write?”

It looked almost like old, old growth redwoods lining the wall paths. Like the Old Survivor in California, they were all not only taller than Sesa but looked picturesque. Like manicured city trees, only sequoias? And….was that a ginkgo tree?

What kind of environment would support those different types of trees?

“Just a few lines, or a few words.” Sesa said softly, drawing Lana's attention back to look up at her face. Then followed the movement of the large hands around the tiny woman as Sesa lifted part of the paper beside her. “This is a letter to a Bitta in the wishboat. It's… it's not a letter asking for something but I know it was a hard winter.”

“What does it say?” Lana asked, touching one of the Shakey letters, rubbing her fingers as it felt like something between charcoal and graphite.

Sesa paused, and reflexively used the pencil in her left hand to point to the odd written words. “‘Hello Bitta, I hope you found this wishboat liked it. My little brother and I tried to make it stable, so you can fish peacefully off it. But don't go too far out to sea, no safe sales. Stay by tidepools. I hope you can get as much food as you want with the boat, Bitta, it was really cold this winter. My little brother saw a rainbow and he wanted to make the boat bright. I think the boat would keep the predators away with it being a rainbow.’ and they signed their names here.”

Lana stood staring at the massive letters, thinking before looking at the top of the heavy seamonster-fish filled crate. What might be the heaviest. Lana remembered what Sesa said about a bad winter (winters?), the oddly vaunt look of the giant woman. She looked up at the golden eyes above her, thinking about how she heard the fondness from Sesa at the docks as she pretty much gave away some fish to kids.

“You're… a big softie aren't you?” Lana asked aloud without thinking. Watching as the giant woman stopped rereading to herself and jerked back as if this tiny person somehow managed to smack Sesa. “You're going to give the family food because it's clear that they're struggling, but trying to be kind. Even though you're not in the best shape.”

Sesa leaned back, as if no one noticed or noted aloud her actions. Embarrassed color was flushing through her cheeks. “I'm a scary hermit in the woods, I'm not soft.”

“Oh no, the massively heavy crate brew off the giantanic fishing boat,” Lana noted in a dry tone, but was grinning before a massive hand moved to cup over top of her.

“Shuu, you … Bitta bitty brat. Those winds are bad.” Sesa blurted back, covering her face with her left hand with a sigh. 

What was she doing?

Miniscule hands rested and gripped at the edge of the calloused thumb, leaning out of the opening between Sesa's thumb and the rest of her hand. “It's not a bad thing to be kind, Sesa. I think that's more impressive than seeing the thing and telling others…. To do something. I'm guessing you want me to write something small to, well, keep the magic?”

“Yeah…” Sesa nodded, her left hand over her eyes still, but lowered it as she felt movement of the bitta climbing over her thumb. Seeing Lana walking across the note, looking thoughtful on her little face when looking up again. “Yes…”

“Do Bitta know how to write your language… in the stories you mentioned?” Lana asked, looking up as she paused by the top left corner where the children had taken time to make a flower pattern.

“Ahhh… oh… not aways, when it's mentioned.” Sesa realized, “Most stories imply that Bitta can read more than write? They do their own thing, or just know a few  words. Written that is.”

“I have an idea, can you sharpen the pencil tip here to the side?” Lana offered, pointing to the spot beyond the paper before moving back out of the way. 

The giant woman looked confused but as she was reaching for the dropped pencil as well as reaching to her hip for the knife there. With Lana safely away, she sharpened the pencil, making a tiny pile beside the paper. Drawing back and looking surprised as Lana moved to pick up one of the fragments scraped off. Then again that did make sense as the piece fit her tiny hand better than guiding the pencil half as big as her.

Lana paused, looking around and judged a space in the corner of the paper she stood on. She knelt and with sure strokes, started to draw something. Sesa leaned to one side, two fingers on the rest of the paper to help hold it still. She watched, leaning over and careful of her breathing, watched as Lana drew the wishboat. Not her raft but it was distinct enough to recognize as Lana added one of the odd swirl patterns. 

Sesa realized as the Bitta moved that Lana was drawing a few things. Making it not too big for her but not so tiny that it could not be seen. Simple and distinct enough to tell a little story.

Implying that the Bitta figure was in the water beside the wishboat, splashing, then the next on the wishboat with a cheer. And then the boat landed on a beach with tall trees. The last with the Bitta figure finding a box on a road or path between trees. Then the box beside a basic house.

“Add a little flag coming off the top of the door?” Sesa asked softly, “The wavers have different flags for each season that they make.”

Lana added the mentioned little detail. Looking up, “How's that for an idea?”

“That…is so perfect Lana.” Sesa smiled as she was allowed to see the whole thing, looking like a full armslangth for Lana of space used. Then realizing that Lana was adding something below, a swirling line from the child's flower to under her own drawings. Adding off shoots of a few quick flowers.

Lana put the splinter of almost graphite in her back pocket, then pulled out her own knife to test on an edge of the waxy paper. It was not extremely hard to cut, a little irregular and she left a few faint hand and fingerprints on the side. She had the equivalent of two poster board size pieces that could be folded in half. Looking around the lid and carrying to a spot not far off the paper to wedge as best she could in a spot that would give a splinter to Sesa maybe, but unless there was a sudden big storm it should stay.

“I think that will hold?” Lana asked, watching as Sesa sat up from her hunch. Then folded the rest of the paper up to put in a pocket of her vest, knife stored back in its spot. 

“I think so, that’s… that’s a much better plan then mine.” Sesa offered her hands to Lana, trying to repress the thrill again of someone so small grasping her fingers before letting Sesa pick her up. Anyone that might have seen it just looked like the tall woman had just been hunched over the box writing, more so as she put the pen in her hair. Slipping ‘something’ else in her bra while adjusting her shirt. “Okay, I'm going to drop this off before stopping by the Weaver's shop on the way to the dock, need some cloth for new pants. Asin would have things on the dock by my boat at least by then, and most other crates returned.”

Lana dared to stand up, bracing a hand on skin and fabric, getting to peek a bit outside. Even if it was the trees above as Sesa picked up the crate and walked down the path. “It's the same basics of your idea.”

“I suppose.” Sesa considered, glancing upwards, noticing some of the berry trees that were hip high to her that pinned the Weaver's properly. They were getting ripe and colorful, reminding Sesa of some of the miniature trees. Not for the first time wondering why some were large and others were tiny like the little trees she just bought. She almost reached out but had her hands full, so focused on scanning ahead for anyone home. It did not seem like it, so Sesa walked to a well used side gate that seemed to be daily used by small feet. The two kinds likely, and walked through a lot. 

Out of the way but still used once a day. Faintly Sesa could hear voices so lifted the heavy crate over the low gate and set it down at an odd angle. As if it fell there. Then made sure the note was visible, catching sight of something on the inside of the gate. A big hollowed out gourd painted like the wishboat. Almost on impulse, Sesa lifted it enough to look in, see the painstaking work to make it look like a little bedroom, and lifted the whole thing. It fit in her hand and twisted open.

Checking for anyone Sesa carefully picked several things out, slipping them into a pocket and then twisted the gourd back together to hang up. Now she strided off, picking a few of the different little berries on the way up around the main road, just catching movement from the house of weavers, and young voices behind. Her legs were much longer and Sesa made good use of them, ignoring the male voice calling out.

“Who’s there?”

Sesa did not respond, far as anyone could see, she was just walking past the front of the house now. Scanning around the houses while cradling the small handful of berries. Hoping some might be useful for Lana as she felt around her vest pockets to find something to put them in. coming up with one of the cloth scraps that she took and transferred the berries into there. Wrapped up and slipped it in her shirt with the bitta.

“Hold that?” Sesa rumbled as soft as she could, “I don’t want it squishing. Not sure if you can eat the berries.”

Lana huffed, surprised at the weight but set the bundle down and sat again. Bracing again, it was like a throw blanket wrapped around something. Once getting used to Sesa’s pace again (mostly), Lana peaked in and gasped.

Plums? 

Only one fruit took two hands to hold, it was heavy and almost that good ripe. Lana sniffed the fruit, it did smell like plum, sweet of natural sugar. Another massive plum was riper and had the skin broken, Lana picked that up. Sniffed and dared to taste the juice. Definitely tasted like plum. She waited until Sesa was talking again, it had to be a good ten minutes before trying a nibble. While at the same time finding another few fruits, all oddly large.

Lana pressed back against Sesa’s chest, feeling and half listening to her telling someone she wanted that bolt of simple greens. Not minding that it was an irregular dye pattern, it was in her price range and strong fabric. Lana tilted her head as she also caught something from the other giant person that talked about odd picks in the scraps.

Sesa just gave a soft grunt back and set something else on the counter. Speaking again in what seemed like a tired voice. “How much?”

“...nineteen gold for everything, including the needles and thread.” the other woman said after a moment, her voice very confused, and then made a surprised sound as it was paid for. Then lana could only guess getting change before recognizing sounds of not fabric but paper being wrapped around two packages.

Sesa was moving again, and this time with Lana paying attention she could hear other voices. Then remembered that the giant woman mentioned not liking a lot of people. Was it specific people, large groups of people? Or both? Sesa had been much calmer in the other store. Lana could feel as her ride, well host, took a deep breath, held it and then sighed deeply.

“Almost there?” Lana asked.

“Almost, just have to get to the dock.” Sesa agreed, looking down the hill of the main street down to the harbor. Swallowed thickly as she took in all the people, stalls and what she could guess was a market day.

Sesa felt a bit sick, shifting to push the smaller of the two packages under the waistband on her back and partly to her side. Keeping one hand free just in case.

[mute-call]

nothing bad ever happens at freddy fazbear's pizzeria ! we mean it this time ! || @feralreason !!

Steven gives the door frame a few gentle knocks before he steps into William's office. The door had been ajar, which probably means Bell's not interrupting anything vitally important, but he still hesitates before closing it behind him and announcing himself with a polite cough.

"Hey, Will." It still feels a little funny to forgo all the "Mr. Afton"s and "sir"s, but it'd be a heck of a lot weirder to keep using honorifics at this point, when employer-employee is no longer the best description of their relationship.

"Fritz, uh--" Steve looks like he's holding in fond laughter, and he has to bite at his lip to get a hold of his uncontrollable smile.

"He drew something for you, but he got too embarrassed to give it to you in person, so he sent me in instead. I wasn't supposed to look."

In his defense, he had tried to respect the kid's wishes, but Fritz hadn't even folded the paper! (Understandable, as any creases would ruin the masterpiece, but that also means it had been practically impossible not to catch a glimpse. ...and, okay. Maybe Steven hadn't tried that hard not to look.)

"I'll just... hand it over... facing you. All secretive-like. If he asks, make sure you tell him I didn't see a thing."

It's obvious that Fritz has put quite a lot of effort into this particular piece; he's used pen to outline his graphite under-drawing, and has covered the entire page with colored pencil. The scene depicts Foxy and Spring Bonnie on the high seas, and Fritz has helpfully labeled them with his and William's names. They look downright fierce as they fight off something that's probably supposed to be a kraken; Spring Bonnie is even dual-wielding a pair of cutlasses! Very impressive.

"...he's really taken a liking to you." Steven's gaze is soft and loving. ...until he turns playful again.

"I mean, the two of you, fighting a giant squid without me? Should I be jealous?"

[salixsociety]

Commissions | Readings | Research Masterpost

Hi y'all! I just updated my Ko-Fi to feature various commissions and reading options for the first time in many years! The potential earnings will go into care for my animals and the costs of my immigration to the US, so please consider contributing if you're interested! In short, I am currently offering: ❀ Research commissions! ❀ Tarot/Oracle readings ❀ Art commissions

I also do traditional divination upon request, please shoot me a message here or on discord (@salixsociety) to inquire! Here is the link to my Ko-Fi to see the commission options there. Below the cut is all the information you could possibly want about my comms!

------------- Commissioned devotional portraits

Art Commissions

I currently offer several different types of traditional art up for commission: graphite and colored pencil. The colored pencils are experimental as I am still learning with them, which means they are smaller and I will not to complicated colored pencil projects. I am much more proficient with graphite so that is where the most options lie! I specialize devotional portraits, personal portraits, and horses. I am willing to try almost anything though!! KO-FI GRAPHITE OPTIONS: Bust (waist-up, or midriff-up): $75 Portrait: $60 Portrait sketch: $35 AT REQUEST GRAPHITE OPTIONS: Bust sketch: $45 Full-body: $115-145 Pet portrait: $45-60 Pet full-body: $75-100 COLORED PENCIL OPTIONS: Single colored pencil subject: $20 Silly colored pencil art: $15 I am continually improving and the art featured in these pictures is a reflection of my past skill. I learn with every portrait and improve with every study, so please take that into account when you notice flaws! My boundaries, requirements, conditions, etc, are at the bottom of the post and featured in every Ko-Fi listing!

------------- Rán & Odinn devotional portraits made for myself

------------- Colored pencil works made for myself

------------- Sketches made for myself

------------- Silly colored pencil art made for myself

Research Commissions

I have worked on and maintained a personal grimoire for over seven years now, and I am very proud of it! In that time I have written and burned many works that I was not satisfied with, but they did teach me a lot, and now I finally have created an online system of organization and continuous learning which I am very happy with and will soon bring to paper! My most important work for my personal practice, my herbarium, boasts over 210 chapters right now (each dedicated to a single herb) and I've written about 17 volumes of my personal magical development. I have a lot of faith in my own ability to find, consume, and process good sources, and lay them out for you in a way that is easy to understand and use, with the sources listed. My prices are cheap because these commissions motivate me to keep learning, which I always want to do!

My standard offers are: ❀ Herbarium entry: $25 minimum ❀ Custom topic: $30 minimum

My herbarium entry is my most well-rounded format. You can pick any tree, plant, or fungus, and I will write about 2000-4000 words (or as much as I can with the information I can find) following this template: ❀ Folk names & Alternative names in English and whatever languages are relevant to you (given I can actually find information about it) ❀ Distribution and ecology ❀ Botanical description with photos ❀ Myth & Legend, and the symbology of the plant ❀ Magical application and usage ❀ Magical healing & Medicinal usage, and contraindications if necessary ❀ Practical applications and facts ❀ Source list, sometimes further reading

The custom research could be for anything regarding magic that is open for me to learn about. If it is a closed practice I require the person commissioning the research to be within their rights to practice that closed tradition and also within their rights to allow me to delve into it, I am thorough on this. I will decline research commissions I feel are not respectful for me to do. Research topics I specialize in: ❀ Lapidary magic (minerals, gems, especially medieval and ancient) ❀ Folklore ❀ Spirits and spirit work ❀ Animism ❀ Germanic paganism, Norse paganism ❀ Intersectional approaches to paganism ❀ Orthodox Christianity ❀ History of magic/folklore/etc ❀ Applied magic (using x magic for y result) ❀ Magical theory (why/how does magic work?) I WILL NOT RESEARCH IN A POSITIVE LIGHT: Wicca, New Age spirituality, folkism or alt-right ideology, and whatever else makes me uncomfortable.

I can also be commissioned to make reading lists and personalized libraries for future reference. I will make sure every source I include in these is not only qualitatively excellent but also, if requested, accessible, in full, for free.

If you would like a reference for how much expertise I have in any given topic, please refer to my tumblr blogs under #apothecaric allerlei, or contact me on any of my public social media to talk to me!

Divination Services

On my Ko-Fi I currently offer Tarot and Oracle readings, but I do not just do cartomancy. On request I do traditional divination as well, such as trance work, charm casting, fire divination, dream interpretation (your dreams), etc. These are the tarot/oracle readings I'm currently offering: ❀ Second opinion ($15): I confirm a reading you've done for yourself or got from someone else. ❀ Path reading ($25): I read on how you can and should move forward in your path, especially as a magical practitioner. ❀ Fate reading ($25: I read on how the path you are currently on will play out, what kind of fate you were born with, and how you can alter how you're set to end up. ❀ Love reading ($25): I read about your current or future relationship, or your love interests. ❀ Spiritual health reading ($20): I read on whether you are cursed, your wards are healthy, your spiritual immunity is sound, etc. ❀ Foe identification ($25): I read on who or what is making your life harder. Understand when you select this that the answer might be nobody/nothing/yourself! ❀ Career reading ($25): I read on any questions you may have about your career. ❀ Get roasted ($20): I let the cards tell you exactly what you need to hear right now and give you tough love.

When I read for you I'll use one of four decks: my inherited Rider-Waite deck, the Oriens Tarot, The Shadowlands Tarot, or the Yggdrasil Oracle. I may ask you to pick one, but generally I choose based on which I think will yield the best results. If, after the reading, I gain more information by accident (through dreams or inklings) I will let you know, no strings attached.

For traditional divination, please contact me on any of my public social media with your inquiries!

------------- Some reviews (posted with consent)

Terms and Conditions

ART COMMISSIONS:

I will NOT draw: hardcore, fetish content, transgressive content, hateful content, mechs, gore, culturally prohibited figures (e.g. God) I WILL draw: softcore, artistic nudity, deities, humanoids, OCs, fanart I reserve the right to decline any project or change my mind halfway through (you will be refunded in this scenario). I reserve the right to post commissions.

RESEARCH COMMISSIONS:

I WILL NOT RESEARCH IN A POSITIVE LIGHT: Wicca, New Age spirituality, folkism or alt-right ideology, and whatever else makes me uncomfortable. I reserve the right to decline any type of research. I research in a scientific way, based on peer reviewed sources, history, and other methods based in reality and actual historical craft. If I deem a topic new age, pseudoscientific, or otherwise outside of my moral boundaries, I will decline; even if it seems innocuous. I reserve the right to share, keep, use, etc, the knowledge I obtain. I reserve the right to withhold information I deem harmful or irresponsible to share. If it is a closed practice, or culturally significant and endangered practice, or a cultural practice subject to much misappropriation and watering down, I require the person commissioning the research to be within their rights to practice that closed tradition and also within their rights to allow me to delve into it, I am thorough on this. I will decline research commissions I feel are not respectful for me to do.

DIVINATION SERVICES:

I will NOT divine on: Legal issues, Serious medical issues, Death dates nor cause of death. QUERENT MUST BE 16 OR OLDER. I CHECK. I reserve the right to decline and refund any readings. I reserve the right to change my mind halfway through and refund the customer. I reserve the right to withhold information I deem harmful or unnecessary. In compliance with the law, all readings are for entertainment purposes only and should not be used as the basis for major legal, financial, or other life decisions.

[lovebvni]

I had a strange dream, which felt more like a memory than something I participated in, but I obviously have not lived this.

We were in a clinic, or what looked like a clinic, and he was sitting next to me. We were across from a vending machine that was out of everything but pretzels and an unbranded cola. I was playing with the hem of my shirt, and he was looking through a notebook and writing things down in a different notebook. I broke the silence and asked him if he’d thanked his best friend for letting him use his notes. He said he had, and was grateful, he just wished that he didn’t take notes like he was on crack. There was a brief pause that felt like an eternity of graphite scraping on paper, and I broke the second silence. I asked if he’d ever tell anyone about me. He said he told his best friend, and I said he figured it out and that he didn’t count. He said it was complicated and that he was trying, but that it was hard. I said I knew his family wasn’t fond of this sort of thing, but they’d find out eventually and he should decide how he wants them to find out while he has a choice in the matter. He said he knew but that didn’t make it easier. It was quiet again, until someone called me and I woke up.

I don’t know what to make of it. It didn’t feel like a dream, but I didn’t have agency within it either.-Milo

if it didn’t feel like a dream it probably wasn’t. it does seem like a core memory — something really important that happened in your guys’ relationship. where he is choosing you and him over what other people may think, you know?

i think this is very important. keep it in mind and think on it a lot. your dr self is connecting to you, and so is he.

i love u milo!! also major feelings in my hear chakra (which is abt love yk)

[exhibit-of-the-century]

Lecture Notes MON 16th OCT

Masterlist

BUY ME A COFFEE

Doing Art History: Drawing/Works on paper.

Oeuvre: the artworld of that time. The body of work by a painter, composer, or author.

Drawing was and has always been the first step into becoming an artist, it is the most fundamental and important aspect of any artistic study or development. To know your fundamentals, the figure, perspective, and weight/shading. Historically this is the first step any artist took, before developing into their preferred medium.

Observe these drawings/sketches and paintings; consider the materials, their effect and product.

Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres, Vicomtesse Othenin d'Haussonville, nee Louise Albertine de Broglie, study, ca. 1845, graphite, with white heightening, on paper, France, Musée de Carpentras.

Colourism – (not to be confused with the discrimination based on skin colour) Specifically in painting, it is a style of painting characterised by the use of intense colour, which becomes the dominant feature of the resultant work of art, mostly influential in the French impressionism movement of the 19th century.

Also: a person who uses colour in s particular way, draws attention to the colour use.

HILAIRE-GERMAIN-EDGAR DEGAS, WOMAN STANDING IN A BATHTUB C. 1890–92, charcoal with stumping on beige wove paper, 43.2 x 29.5 cm, Sterling and Francine Clark Institute

Edgar Degas After the Bath, Woman Drying Herself, c. 1890-95 Pastel on wove paper laid on millboard. 103.5 x 98.5 cm. The National Gallery, London. Bought, 1959. Photo: © The National Gallery, London

Théodore Géricault, Study for the Raft of Medusa, 1818, charcoal on paper, Paris, Musée du Louvre.

Observe the contour line (the darker outline line), surrounding the body. Note the twist and strain of the muscles and exaggeration of line and pose to create drama on the paper. Also note the materials used. Charcoal: a material that possesses a short life on paper without additives to preserve it. Something that smudges easily. Perhaps to quickly capture the body and idea and shading.

The Male nude – which surprisingly are the most common nude that exists in the western world. And this is because the basic fundaments were learnt from drawing casts, from the ancient world, or drawing from other works of art. Sketching development and a skill development, meant drawing bodies and getting to access to more complex forms to keep learning.

The RA is doing an exhibition on Impressionist on paper, which from the photos of artworks in this post, I recommend going to and seeing and judging for yourself, the use of materials and their effects.

On Degas and pastels: you can over saturate paper with pastels, muddying the colour. Critics of Degas spoke out, how his portrayal of bodies appear bruised. Degas was less interested in accuracy, more into the exploration of light on the body, the illumination, and the space it inhabits.

Genres of painting: Landscape, Portrait, Still life, Genre, Historical, Allegorical:

Allegorical paintings covered mythos. These were most prominent and popular when the state collected paintings, rather than when commissions came into prominence, and private ownership of painting rose.

Impasto: when paint stands off from the canvas. An Italian word for “mixture,” used to describe a painting technique wherein paint is thickly laid on a surface, so that brushstrokes or palette knife marks are visible. A pastose surface is one that is thickly painted.

19th century: paints in tubes begin to make an appearance.

Plain air: painting outside, open air painting. A common impressionist's expression.

Claude Monet Cliffs at Etretat: The Needle Rock and Porte d’Aval, Pastel on wove paper, c. 1885. 39 x 23 cm. National Galleries of Scotland. Accepted in lieu of Inheritance Tax by H M Government from the estate of Miss Valerie Middleton and allocated to the Scottish National Gallery, 2016

Drawings always have a subjective idea of being ‘finished’ surrounding them. A rising problem surrounding the impressionist artists was critics perceptions of the artworks seeming unfinished, which could decrease a value of an artwork.

Berthe Morisot, At the Beach in Nice, 1882, pencil and watercolour, Stockholm, Nationalmuseum.

Note the signing of this particular artwork, in the bottom left corner. A tendency that arose after an artist died and their work became more famous or popular, their families would sign the work in their name.

Moreover, looking at this artwork it may surprise some to know that watercolour is considered a less prestigious material to use. As opposed to oil painting, which carries a greater prestige due to its difficulty to use and master. Leaving less room for imperfections. As a snide response to the impressionist movement, critics suggested that these artist under this movement, stick to and use watercolour.

Consider critics opinions of materials and how that translates to accessibility and intension.

Watercolour is actual a far more accessible material than oil painting and can give you a great finish, especially for artists that were painting on open air and their surroundings live.