#design app mockup

[mockupcloud]

New MacBook Air mockups, where you can change every detail and apply your design via the Smart Objects layer.

Available now at ⚡mockupcloud.com

[happywebdesign]

https://maneken.app/

[abyssal-author-and-artist]

i was never told selfsonas couldn't be nonhuman so here you go, my first mock up of my sona

[artistkaila17]

I hope to one day have many types of artsy products to make and sell like clothing, coloring books, art prints, stickers, etc.

This Mockup was inspired by a pajama T-shirt dress my mom got from my grandma and grandpa a long time ago and I liked it so much, Mom gave it to me.

I tried many times to see if I could find another one like it, but I didn't.

So I made a few of my mockups and this is one of them.

[reallycreative]

Scrolling Website Mockup Design with Canva: A Step-by-Step Guide

[feyburner]

I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app

*

Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.

“No?” he says.

“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”

“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”

He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.

And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.

“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”

“Lightyears beyond, actually.”

“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”

He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.

“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”

“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.

“Exactly.”

“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”

Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”

Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”

“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”

“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”

There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.

“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”

“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”

[kiff-art]

Commission time! 🥰 I'm very proud of this illustration especially because backgrounds are always a big challenge for me and I managed to draw this one 💪🏼🤪

[stellas--stuff]

AAC Test UI: horizontal and light mode

I made some mockups for what the horizontal layout and light mode on my AAC app would look like

When you turn your phone sideways I'm thinking it would keep all of the icons locked in the same place on your screen, so an icon on the bottom right when you're holding your phone vertically would be on the upper right when holding it horizontally.

As always I love critical feedback! Tell me why my designs could create problems, don't be afraid to be nitpicky and annoying!

Also don't be afraid to say why something wouldn't work for you specifically, even though it might work for other people

[hotfudgecherryrosy]

Hi! Little update on the Quizlet-like app, henceforth known and tagged as Innaflash. (One of my friend's ideas, and I'm a sucker for puns :) )

Tl;dr of below is i'd like opinions on the UI mockup so far, maybe some alternative color theme ideas.

No coding has happened yet, but I started making a UI mockup to get the brain juices going and also bc i just love messing around with color themes and graphic design, hee hee. I think I'm going with a webcore theme. Default will be purple, but there will be the option to change the theme (i already have the code for this so it's easy to implement). A couple images are above, I'd like to hear what you all think :)

[bellysoupset]

I cannot find the ask who requested for sick Wendy + Bella caretaker, so maybe it never existed at all.... Anyway, have some pure sick bromance between my girls.

--------------

"You think I should cut it?" Bella frowned at her reflection, glaring at her hair. She was standing inside of the changing room of the store, in just a swimsuit, so Wendy could help her pack for honeymoon.

"Your beautiful lion mane?" Wendy scoffed, curling up on the puff she was sitting on and absently minded going through the rack of reject bikinis standing next to her, "are you crazy?"

"Sometimes I feel like it stands out more than I do," Bella pouted, hands on her waist and then sighed, tugging on the swimsuit, "so what do you think?"

"I liked the blue one more," Wendy studied her from head to toe, "but I also think you're going to give Luke a stroke."

Bella opened a big, smug smile, looking over her shoulder to stare at her ass in the mirror, "good, then I'm taking it as well," she walked over to the private part of the changing rooms in order to get back in her clothes, "so how's the extra class you were gonna start taking coming along?"

"Which one of them?" Wendy asked, getting up and checking the price tag of a cute little pink bikini with a matching skirt.

"How many classes are you taking!?" Bella opened the curtain of her changing part, unbothered by the fact she was just in her bra and panties, "aren't you also doing the neurology residency!?"

"Well, you see, I have a lot of free time," Wendy shrugged, "and a lot of energy."

"You should join my boxing class then," Bella zipped up her black leather pants, "Jonah's there and I'm kicking his ass."

"No, you're not," Wendy giggled at the transparent lie, "no coach would ever match you up with Jonah, Bell, he's huge."

"Please," Bella rolled her eyes, putting on her band t-shirt and grabbing her purse as well as the picked swimsuits and bikinis, "I could kick his ass, I know I could," she walked over to Wendy and grabbed the smaller woman by her shoulders, "come up for a class."

"I'll think about it," Wendy wrinkled her nose in distaste. A gym wasn't exactly her idea of fun. Sure, she did hot yoga, but there was none of the loud upbeat music and shouting at each other to do more and better.

"So what else are you studying then, Tink?" Bella walked to the cashier part. Wendy handed her the piece she was planning to buy for herself when her friend flashed Luke's black card before her eyes with raised eyebrows, wordlessly putting it on his tab and Bell didn't comment besides snorting at it.

"Interior Design classes every Monday and Thursdays, yoga every Saturday morning, fashion drawing every Tuesday night... I wanted to try ballroom dancing, but my partner is in freaking Doveport and Jon said he already knows and it would be no fun."

Bella wrinkled her nose and shook her head when Wendy opened her mouth as if to ask her, "absolutely not."

"Boo," Wendy sighed, "I think we should take some class together, it'd be cool. Babs is in my hot yoga class and it's a lot of fun."

"Sure," Bella picked up the bags and they started to walk out of the door, "but not ballroom dancing, thank you. I'm actually participating in a coding challenge right now and-"

"A coding challenge," Wendy raised her eyebrows, "what's that?" They walked the short distance between the store and Wen's apartment building.

"Basically I have to try and design a mockup app with the monthly theme," Bella explained and Wendy frowned at that.

"I thought that was your job...?"

"No," Bell followed her inside the elevator, "I'm a backend developer, a frontend does the design and thinks the interface, I do the math that makes it work. But I like UI design, so that's why-"

"God, you're so nerdy," Wendy grumbled, resting against the metal and grimacing slightly as the movement made her stomach lurch, "I can't believe you didn't get shoved into lockers when you were younger, Bell."

The ginger rolled her eyes, "that's because I was always hot," she showed the other woman her tongue like a five year old, running a hand through her curls and then frowning, noticing Wendy's face had lost its usual pink tone.

Bella opted for not saying anything and they kept chatting, walking into Wendy's apartment. However, the longer they talked, the more Bell realized she was the one doing most of the talking, Wendy getting quieter and quieter.

"Wen," Bella pouted, after spending a good thirty minutes talking basically on her own, "do you want me to go? I don't need to spend the night if you're tired-"

"No!" Wendy exclaimed, shaking her head and moving on her spot on the couch, "sorry, no, I don't want you to leave. We planned you'd spend the night, I was looking forward to that, it's just-"

"It's just?" Bell leaned in, confused and Wendy grimaced, moving again as if she couldn't find a comfortable position, "what's wrong, Wen?"

"My stomach is bothering me," Wendy's cheeks turned a deep shade of red, "I don't know what's wrong, I know I didn't eat anything off, but it's all gurgly and kinda crampy."

"Oh," Bella raised her eyebrows, "do you think it could be hunger?"

Wendy shook her head, "no, definitely not hunger, I feel a little queasy..." she pouted, hugging her knees, "I'm sorry, its just my stomach- I- It's a bit of a sore topic."

"Your belly?" Bella frowned, more confused than before, "you feeling sick to your stomach is a sore topic?"

Wendy nodded, pouting and resting her cheek to her knee, "yeah..."

"Why?" Bella crawled on the couch, moving closer, "because you're chubby? That's silly, babe-"

"No," Wen scoffed, before pausing, "I mean, sorta? I used to have issues with my weight back when I was a teen, which led to becoming bulimic and, well, I don't have an eating disorder anymore, but every time I feel like I'm gonna barf, it makes me feel disgusting-"

"Okay," Bella raised a hand to interrupt her, "your order of priorities is a little skewered, Wen. You should've started by telling me you think you're going to puke..." she opened a small, amused smile, "let's go sit in the bathroom, c'mon."

"No," Wendy curled up more, "I'm fine, it's gonna pass- You're not gonna say anything about..?" she raised a judgmental eyebrow and Bell shrugged, standing up from the couch.

"I don't have anything to say," she said in a nonchalant manner, "I'm happy you don't do it anymore...?"

Wendy let out a snort, noticing how uncomfortable Bella seemed being in the emotional caretaker role. She rolled her eyes, "okay, Bells," but the humor quickly vanished, as her lunch flipped yet again. Wendy let out a sigh, curling up in a smaller ball, "I feel gross."

"You're not," Bella patted her head, "c'mon, let's go sit in the bathroom before you ruin your pretty rug."

Wendy didn't have the heart to tell Bell that sitting in the bathroom waiting to throw up really made her feel more awful, not less. She fidget uncomfortably as Bella rummaged through her cabinet drawers until she found a good claw clip to pull Wen's hair back.

Then she sat down as well on the cold ground and planted a hand on Wendy's back, "you feel a little warm, Wen."

"Isn't that just grand," Wendy groaned, leaning forward and staring at the still water of the toilet. She pushed away, fanning herself, "can you go sit in the living room? I don't want you to see me like this..."

"Nope," Bella popped the P at the end of the word, pulling Wendy to lie against her, "sucks for you, but I'm not going anywhere. Come here- Come here-" Bell pulled her closer, draped across her lap and planted a hand on Wendy's unsettled tummy, "I do this for Luke all the time and it helps."

"That's because your husband is an overgrown puppy, I'm not," Wendy groaned, but she couldn't help but melt at the soft touch. Even if her whole face was aflame, Bella was being really delicate, moving her fingers to the sorest spots as if she already knew them by memory.

The ginger slid down slightly, muffling a yawn and pressing the heel of her hand to Wendy's tummy. The pale skin was pushing out, bloated, and every time Bell pressed it she could feel a string of gurgles under her fingers, traveling up-

"Oh, you silly idiot," Bella scoffed, flicking at Wendy's ear, "the belly rub doesn't help if you don't burp. That's the entire point of it!"

"You're killing me," Wendy groaned, pressing her face to Bell's leg and hiding the angry blushing overtaking her cheeks. Bella snorted at that, continuing the rub.

"I'm trying to help," she whispered, "tell me know if I'm making it worse."

"Not worse," Wendy squirmed, then a burp rushed up before she could muffle it and she let out a whine at the loud noise, covering her face, "oh God- I'm sorry-"

"You're so silly," Bella chuckled, "that's nothing, Wen.”

Wendy cringed, pressing her face further to Bella’s thigh and continuing to burp, trying to muffle them. The burps, that at first were making her feel better, got progressively wetter, until one brought her lunch with it and Wendy scrambled up, slapping a hand over her lips and rushing for the toilet. 

She didn’t vomit, it went back down, but left her feeling shaky, nausea causing cold sweat to break on her forehead and over her upper lip, flooding her mouth with a horrible taste. 

“Wen,” Bell planted a hand in the middle of her back, “what do you need? What’s wrong?”

Wendy groaned, lifting herself slightly so she could press her sick stomach against the porcelain and resting her forehead on her hand, elbow on the seat, “can’t puke… Wanna puke, I feel-” she spat again, the act of speaking causing more saliva to come up, “feel sick…”

“Okay,” Bells continued to rub her back, short nails making a scratching motion, “do you think drinking something might help it come up?”

She felt so horrid, talking about vomiting like that. Wendy nodded, before letting out a groan, almost a sob. Not quite crying, but close. At least this time it wasn’t her fault she was sick, silver linings. 

“Babe,” Bella sighed, returning from the bathroom sink with a glass of water, “hey, you’re okay, it’s just a stomach bug. Happens to everyone…” 

Wendy took the glass with shaky, sweaty fingers and forced herself to gulp it down. The first sip was actually good, pushing back the horrible taste and the stickiness in her mouth, only for the throat to seemingly close up, tongue curling with disgust, making it incredibly hard for the to swallow more-

“Fuck,” Wendy haphazardly shoved the glass in Bella’s general direction, not even sure if she took it or not before letting go and her whole back arching with a violent heave. Nothing came up, but it set off a chain reaction, her belly squeezing before she could catch her breath and another two gags, until a wet burp brought up a huge gush of half digested french fries and a milkshake.

The sheer volume made her feel like she was drowning and Wendy coughed, hacking again and letting out a string of moans as even more puke rushed up, splashing on her fingers, and making her head swim with the lack of oxygen.

“I got you, I got you,” Bella said softly, cupping her forehead and flushing the toilet, helping Wendy lean over it, “get it up, Tink, you’ll feel better soon.”

“Urgh,” Wendy spat in the now clear swirling water, struggling to breathe. Her nose was stinging and it felt blocked, she felt cold all over… “Can I have more- More wa-” she never did finish that sentence, her stomach contracting violently and more puke rushed up, this time actually choking her. 

Wendy folded almost completely with a coughing fit, feeling Bell thump her back and force her to straighten up in order to clear her airways, “big breaths, babe,” Bella tipped her chin back, forcing Wendy to look up, and some clear air to make it through. 

The smaller girl groaned as oxygen came back, her spine giving up on her and she fell back, only for Bella to grab her by the wrists and stop her from swan diving and hitting her head against the porcelain. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck — Hey, Wen? You with me?”

“Uhm,” Wendy closed her eyes, dizzy and nauseous, still gulping for air. She leaned to the left, her cheek meeting something soft, so Wen let her weight drop against it, “feel…” a little burp interrupted her, “really shitty.”

She heard Bella let out a relieved sigh at her being responsive, then the ginger’s hands on her face, something wet wiping her lips and chin. Wendy frowned, a new wave of humiliation washing over her, “don’t do that…”

“Shush it,” Bell scoffed, pulling her to lie against her, “you’re done? Surely you must be empty…”

“Don’t know…” Wen mumbled, planting a hand to her tummy. Bella had pushed up her top and it was still up, which made Wendy feel even worse. She must be a sight. Under her hand, there was a string of bubbles and gurgles, rushing up and causing her to let out a little sickly burp, “don’t feel done.”

“There ain’t no way,” Bella scoffed, but there was an amused tone to her words, “well, okay, do you want to just wait it out here or-”

Wendy forced her eyes open, feeling more than a little dizzy. It took her a second to realize she was pressed against Bella’s side, her cheek against her friend’s boob, causing her whole face to turn pink with embarrassment. She pulled back, then leaned forward over the toilet once more and shoved a finger inside her mouth, only for Bella to yank at her hand. 

“No, absolutely not,” Bella’s voice was harsh now, none of the previous lighthearted air, “you’re not doing that.”

“I don’t feel good…” Wendy whined, spitting in the water, “I want it out…”

“I don’t care, you’re not doing that,” Bella scoffed, then in a calmer tone she said, “let me rub your tummy, okay? Maybe it’ll help.” 

“No, Bell, I-” Wendy heaved, a mouthful of watery vomit falling in the water and leaving her panting, “I need to puke, my stomach feels sour and like it’s burning…” 

“Alright,” Bella had a practical tone that caused Wendy to groan, like she was a little engineering problem for her friend to solve. The ginger got behind her, pushing the glass of water back to Wendy, “big gulps.”

“Not- Not gonna-”

“Big gulps,” Bella repeated, voice firm, “c’mon, Wendy.”

Wendy sighed, blowing out another airy burp and then forcing herself to drink the rest of the water. It landed in her stomach like acid, causing more of the burning sensation that tickled her throat and Wendy groaned, leaning more-

Bella touched her belly, her fingers no longer that soft, pressing the heel of her hand to Wendy’s bloated upper stomach, right where it rounded out of her rib cage. The pressure caused a gurgly burp to come up and Wen moaned, squeezing the toilet seat with both hands, as Bell continued to literally squeeze her tummy. 

She couldn’t breathe properly, making a slightly wheezy sound, and then her stomach contracted once more, sharply, and Wendy moaned her way as another gush exploded out of her mouth. This time it was mostly sour, salty water, but the first gush opened the gates for the rest and she continued to gag, puking little mouthfuls of chunkier stuff, until she finally let out a deafening heave, whole back curling as her stomach forced up the last of it.

Wendy groaned, her knees giving in and she felt Bella wrap her up with an arm, flushing the toilet, “there you go,” the ginger pressed a kiss to the top of her head and Wendy would have started crying, if she wasn’t half convinced she already was. 

She whimpered, pushing her face against Bella’s stomach and falling into an awkward position across the woman’s lap. Bell seemed unbothered, combing her fingers through Wendy’s hair, then moving her hand to her tummy.

“How are you feeling?”

“Pathetic, disgusting, horrible-”

Bella glared at her, “that’s all bull,” she said sharply, “I wanna know how’s your belly.”

“Ah… Better. Not settled,” Wendy sighed, curling up her knees, “I think it’s the flu.”

“I think it’s the flu too,” Bell agreed, “you’re really warm. Think you can stand up? You need to get out of these clothes and into bed.”

“Not now,” Wendy mumbled, squeezing her eyes shut when shaking her head no caused the bathroom to blur, “I’m sorry you had to-”

“Madre de Dio, Wendy!” Bella cried out, “babe, you didn’t gross me out or whatever, just stop fucking apologize. It’s fine, you got sick, that happens.”

Wendy let out a whine, forcing her eyes open, all feverish and emotional and wanting to die, “you don’t think I’m gross? I mean, I-”

“Wendy,” Bella grabbed her cheeks, forcing their eyes to meet, “what world do you live in where we’re running beauty contests on the bathroom floor?”

The phrase caused Wendy to let out a chuckle, pulling back and forcing herself to sit up. She wiped at her forehead, desperately wanting out of her the clothes that were sticking to her, “I guess.”

“You guess,” Bella repeated, dryly and rolling her eyes, “that’s a ten for Wendy Marshall for puking her guts up with class and elegance, minor sobbing and almost no mess.”

Wendy’s cheeks caught on fire and she glared at her friend, “shut up, Bella.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Bell scoffed, getting up and extending her hand to help her up, “c’mon, let's get you in a shower and then in bed.”

[froguemorgue]

@caleb-management asked:

and so I spent this morning drawing a layout myself (grossly underestimating how much time I'd spend on it... also I had to do math, also I'm not ted moseby) but it beats learning how to use an interior design program! actually, seeing it again makes me feel proud because this is the original mockup from memory done in my Notes app:

NO WAIT COME BACK!!! 

below is the finished product:

dude, calculating the square footage of the general living area, because it was two rectangles put together, truly brought me back to high school geometry. i have not been in an "I Lowkey Enjoy Math!" era since before covid but this was actually fun. Thanks!!

I should add that they are on the 6th floor. and there is no elevator. this is evil, i hope you understand what it's like going up that many flights. (this doesn't sound like proper grammar?? am i dumb).

the building is like entirely exposed brick, high ceilings, old, wide-cut hardwood floors, and huge old windows that predate the 1920s and have to be propped up, and are horribly drafty in the winter. The seams of the floorboards don't really line up because the rooms have changed a lot since the building was originally constructed, which means the interior walls are also different than the exterior brick, and are mostly plaster with wallpaper. A lot of the plumbing is exposed because it was added later. electrical is way outdated and not the safest, but hey. they're sooo blessed to be on a corner of the building so they get more windows than average! The bedroom side faces an alleyway and there is a fire escape accessible by both bedroom windows. The windows in the living room face the street and not explicity writen is that the sills are deep enough to sit in, giving them book nook potential but mostly they're just used for extra seating if there was a tiny gathering (it would be so cramped) and also, there is a one in 4 chance it will simply be littered with beer cans. they may be classy boys but they're still college boys. well, they were college boys, but as Rob is graduating in '77 (four year bachelor's) Alex actually finished his in three (graduated in '76) and is now in law school. the lease ended on December 31st so Rob literally JUST moved out a month prior when Alex first "arrives".

Troup and Alex moved here after rooming together in a dorm for two years because at the time it was fairly cheap, utilities all included, but rent keeps rising so dramatically that, on a peaceful night, especially during the winter, if you listen very closely, you can actually hear Mark Cohen and Roger Davis growling about it. . they are in the walls

[mockupcloud]

NEW! Arm Device Mockups 🦾

You can change wire color, background and apply your design via Smart Object layer.

Available now at ⚡mockupcloud.com

[thetallowman]

Ugh. Head colds suck. Anyway.

More extra materials - the paper and the app, this time. Not much to garner from the app layout itself - though I do wonder whether it's generic schlockiness is a function of it being cheap, or it being a mockup model created in service to the story. (Graphic design is Wildbow's new passion?) I'm unclear on what a "mutual like" is supposed to be, but it's suspicious that some of the data was discarded. There's also a button for "more apps," which could be indicative of something? The "R" seems to be a logo, and the app is called "Class_RankR," which could suggest it's connected to an actual company with branding. On the other hand, "r" just seems to be the letter that gets slapped on the end of app names for some reason, so it could be no deeper than that.

The flyer is a lot more interesting. My first thought is that the mashed together headlines read "Eat All Your Song," which fits with the "Hungry Choir." The other bits are mostly about food, or eating, with the standout exceptions being "Bring nothing" and "When: Eight Nights." (Presumably that's connected to the specific nights that Gabe mentioned, though I can't fathom how he got an actual date out of that mess. Might be some backlighting tricks you can do with a physical copy.)

The real question, to me, is what the story of the Hungry Choir is supposed to be. Others always fit in some way or another, with form and function reflecting underlying truths - so what's the connection between food, kids, and music? Ritual Incarnates seem to be in the vein of what I might call "rabbit hole horror" - urban legends and creepypastas and chain letters and conspiracy theories. Less things that kill you and eat you in a dark alley, more things that you "dig up" and promptly regret; curiosity as a sin.

[iolite-moodboards]

the average graphic designer should be fearing me rn

New instagram (mobile) mockups, profile and story in light AND dark mode because im not a huge fan of the photonote app. Lemme know if you want a tutorial (no photoshop needed)

desktop tutorial caller ID screen snapchat post

[daphnefisherofficial]

bugna: TAKIPSILIM | destiny's twilight

CHAPTER SEVEN

Pairing: MCU Moon Knight System (Marc/Jake/Steven) x Avatar Fem!Reader

masterlist | previous | next chapter

CHAPTER SEVEN - A NIGHT OF DISCOVERY, HISTORY & CONNECTION.

As you and Steven Grant made your way through the dimly lit and quiet corridors of the British Museum, you could sense his anticipation building with each step. The soft echo of your combined footsteps on the marble floor reverberated through the air, signaling the beginning of a journey into the heart of history. 

"This way," you whispered, leading Steven toward the gallery section that was still off-limits to the public. Here, you had meticulously designed and curated a mockup of the upcoming Ennead exhibit, a tribute to ancient Egypt's timeless legacy. Your heart quickened with excitement, knowing that you were about to unveil this hidden treasure to a kindred spirit.

The cool, hallowed air of the museum seemed to envelop you both as you approached the exhibit room, and Steven’s eyes widened as he took in the grandeur of the entrance. You then pushed open the imposing wooden doors with a hushed creak, finally gesturing to your last tour guide applicant to follow you.

Steven's jaw nearly dropped at the sight that greeted him. Before him sprawled a vast expanse of Egyptian artifacts and relics, each meticulously and elegantly arranged in their respective glass display case. The room itself was a treasure trove of ancient Egyptian culture, a silent testament to the civilization that had once flourished along the banks of the Nile. The golden hieroglyphics on the nearby relic gleamed, and statues of pharaohs stood frozen in time. The room was bathed in soft, ambient lighting, casting an ethereal glow and making the room feel like a sanctuary for history enthusiasts.

"This... this is incredible," Steven whispered in awe, his voice barely more than a breath. His eyes were wide with wonder as he looked around the exquisite artifacts, unable to believe that he would now have the opportunity to study and talk about the subject matter he felt most passionately about. “I can’t believe I’m actually here, this is mental”

You couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. His reaction was exactly the response you had hoped for. "I'm glad you like it," you replied, your voice equally hushed. "I’ve been putting this exhibit together for the past month, and I’m really proud of it”

“You should be proud, Mira”, Steven turned to you, his eyes shining with gratitude. “I can’t believe this, it’s like walking through a dream”

“You better believe it. This is just a taste of what the next few weeks will offer", you replied, feeling a swell of pride at his words before shifting to the next phase of the tour guide application process. “Are you ready to break this down?”

“I’m aces, yeah”, Steven affirmed eagerly. With an eager gleam in your eye, you went on to explain the task at hand.

"Now, let me explain how tonight’s guided tour will work for the evaluation”, you started to say, clapping your hands together. “You see, Steven, I want you to experience this room as our visitors will. I’ll give you fifteen minutes to explore these curated pieces and come up with your own tour plan. Imagine you're guiding a group of five-year old children through this exhibit. What would you show them first? What stories would you tell?"

Steven nodded once more, his face a portrait of concentration as his eyes were already scanning the exhibit room. He then pulled out his phone, ready to absorb as much information as he could.

"I want you to pick out the artifacts that resonate with you the most, the ones you believe will captivate our visitors”, you couldn't help but smile at his actions, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction in sharing this moment with him. “Take notes, capture your thoughts, and when you're ready, we'll go through your plan together."

"I think I get it," he said, his excitement growing. His nimble fingers tapped open a note-taking app. "I'll start jotting down some ideas right away."

“I’ll be back here after fifteen minutes”, you started to walk away from him, heading towards the doors and looking back at him one more time. “Let’s roleplay your guided tour for the evaluation. I will be a five-year old tourist walking through the exhibit for the first time. Good luck, Steven”

“Thanks, Mira”, Steven nodded eagerly, his eyes already darting from one exhibit to another. “See you in a bit”

You watched him for a moment, admiring his dedication to the task at hand, before slipping out of the room. As you left, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. You had high hopes for Steven, and you were eager to see how he would approach the challenge.

Fifteen minutes later, you returned to the exhibit room to find Steven fully absorbed in his role as a potential museum tour guide. Gone was the casual, unassuming man you had met just minutes ago. In his place stood a charismatic and knowledgeable museum tour guide, ready to lead you through the intricate tapestry of Egyptian history.

His face lit up as he saw you, and he welcomed you with open arms and a contagious vigor.

"Welcome, dear visitor," he said with a playful bow, his British accent lending an air of sophistication to his words. "I'm Steven Grant, and I'll be your guide on this journey through the wonders of ancient Egypt."

You couldn't help but be charmed by his enthusiasm. "I'm ready to be amazed, Steven."

And amazed you were. As Steven began his tour, his voice filled the room with a soft-spoken eloquence that drew you in. Needless to say, you were blown away by his vast knowledge of Egyptian history and culture. 

Steven didn't simply overload you with information, facts and figures. Instead, he engaged you in a captivating dialogue, his teaching style reminiscent of a master storyteller. He approached and presented each artifact with finesse and a creative flair, his unique way with his words introducing a little back-and-forth as he encouraged you to share your thoughts and ask questions. It was a cerebral dance, an intellectual tango that left you spellbound.

"Did you know," he began, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, "that the goddess Isis was often depicted as a woman with a throne-shaped headdress and an ankh—the symbol of life—in her hand? It's a powerful representation of fertility and rebirth."

You nodded, genuinely intrigued. "I've always found the symbolism in Egyptian art to be so captivating."

As you discussed the intricacies of an ornate golden necklace next, you couldn't help but be drawn into Steven's world. "This piece," he explained, his voice tinged with a hint of mystery, "is believed to have belonged to a high priestess of the 18th dynasty. Can you imagine the ceremonies she must have officiated, adorned in this exquisite jewelry?"

You were entranced by his words, your imagination running wild. "It's truly remarkable," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "The craftsmanship is impeccable."

Steven's eyes sparkled with appreciation for your observation. "Indeed, it is. And the hieroglyphics inscribed on it tell a story of devotion and spirituality that transcends time."

As the tour continued, you found yourself drawn deeper into the world Steven had created within the exhibit room. Time seemed to slip away as you discussed the significance of papyrus scrolls, marveled at ancient pottery, and examined intricate sculptures. The exhibit you’ve curated came to life under Steven's guidance, with him sharing anecdotes and historical insights along the way.

Finally, as you stood before a life-sized replica of the Rosetta Stone, Steven concluded the tour with a flourish. "And here we have the key to unlocking the mysteries of ancient Egypt," he declared, his voice filled with reverence. "The Rosetta Stone, with its inscriptions in three different scripts, allowed scholars to decipher the hieroglyphs and unlock the stories of this incredible civilization."

"Steven, this is incredible”, you said, unable to contain your admiration any longer. “I must say, this has been one of the most engaging and informative museum tours I've ever experienced"

"Thank you so much”, He bowed and smiled modestly, clearly pleased by your praise. "I’m glad you’ve had fun and enjoyed the tour”

“That horrible manager of yours really wasted your skills away in the museum back office”, you then added, shaking your head in disbelief. “If we ever meet, I’m going to have words”

“There’s no need for that”, Steven muttered bashfully, his cheeks starting to taint pink at your mild outburst. “I’m truly honored to have this opportunity, really. I’m just happy to get to tour you at your best work”

"You have a unique gift for this, Steven”, you spoke softly, your tone filled with admiration. “Your passion and ability to bring history to life are remarkable."

"Thank you again”, Steven replied with a gracious nod. “That's really high praise coming from you."

You didn't hesitate to offer professional feedback after, drawing from your own experience as a seasoned guide and curator. Steven welcomed your input, appreciating your perspective as a fellow enthusiast of the museum world. It was a meeting of minds, a shared passion for history and culture. 

“I’ll send you an email next week regarding your application result”, you said, briefly glancing at your watch as the digital numbers blinked back at you: 8:15 PM. It was dinner time, and the city of London was slowly being cloaked in the shroud of night. 

You turned to Steven, your companion for the evening, and extended an invitation with a warm smile.

"How about we continue our conversation over dinner?" you asked, your voice filled with genuine warmth. “My treat”

Steven hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering with uncertainty and apprehension. He’s well aware of Marc’s complicated feelings about you, and he didn't want to add to the tension. However, he couldn't bring himself to decline your invitation, not when you looked at him with those inviting eyes. 

"That sounds lovely," he replied with a genuine smile, his voice tinged with gratitude.

The two of you began to stroll through the dimly lit night streets of London, your footsteps echoing against the cobblestone pavement. The city's bustling energy contrasted with the serenity of your conversation as random small talks between you filled the air. Ranging from subjects as diverse as your knowledge of ancient Egypt to the rich history of the Philippines, especially during the times before the colonizers discovered and invaded your home country.

You had much to share about the latter topic which seemed to captivate Steven as he listened intently and hung on to your every word, your passionate words painting vivid pictures of your home country's rich tapestry for him. Little did he know that he was in the company of someone who was a living testament to the powerful times you spoke of. 

Eventually, you both arrived at a cozy steakhouse restaurant, its warm lighting and inviting atmosphere embracing you as you entered. For Steven, this place held a slightly painful memory from a failed date with a museum tour guide named Dylan from the National Art Gallery. But tonight, as he held the door open for you, he couldn't help but feel a sense of hope and nostalgia wash over him. He didn't feel melancholic anymore, but rather hopeful and sentimental, a new chapter unfolding before him.

A vaguely familiar waiter, an elderly man with a warm smile and a twinkle in his eye, greeted both of you as you were seated. He looked at you and Steven, making a quick assumption. 

"A new couple, I presume?" he said with a wink. "You two make a lovely pair. And may I say, you, young lady, are timelessly beautiful."

Steven blushed, his cheeks turning a shade of crimson with embarrassment as he fumbled for words. The compliment itself made your heart flutter, even though you knew it was a misunderstanding. 

“Thank you, kind sir”, you let out a small breathless laugh, graciously accepting the compliment as your eyes sparkled with amusement. Steven's heart skipped a beat, not only because of the old man's assumption but because you didn't correct him.

Recovering himself, Steven pulled out a chair with all the grace of a proper gentleman, and you took your seat with a grateful smile. Seated across from each other, the waiter handed you both menus to finally select your future dinner choices.

"Do you have any dietary restrictions, Steven?", you asked, briefly looking up to meet his eyes. “Or any preferences I should know?”

Steven was immediately taken aback by your kindness and compassion, looking genuinely touched by your consideration. "Actually, I'm vegan," he admitted, eyes sparkling with gratitude.

"I respect that. I try to eat healthy, though I'm not completely vegan myself”, you smiled, nodding in understanding. “We'll find something delicious for you here, I'm sure."

After placing your orders, you continued your animated conversation as the night unfolded in a delightful dance of words and laughter. You and Steven navigated through a wide range of topics, shifting from ancient civilizations to contemporary art, from travel anecdotes to favorite books. Your discussions were punctuated by soft laughs and animated chuckles, creating a warm and intimate atmosphere in the restaurant.

The hours passed in a delightful blur as you savored both the food and the company. And as you sat there, surrounded by the soft glow of the restaurant, sharing stories and laughter, it was becoming clear that this evening was something more than just a simple dinner. It was an enchanting connection, a budding friendship, and a beautiful memory in the making.

As you glanced at the clock, you realized that it was well past midnight. The evening had flown by, and you weren't ready for it to end. After you settled the bill with the waiter and prepared to leave the restaurant, you then turned to Steven, a smile playing on your lips.

"Steven, this has been an incredible night," you said sincerely. "I can't remember the last time I enjoyed a dinner so much."

His eyes twinkled with a warmth that mirrored your own feelings, knowing now for a fact that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel from his failed date with Dylan. He realized now that the pain of that night was all worth it as it led him to finally know what a true good company is.

"I feel the same way. Thank you so much for tonight."

END OF CHAPTER SEVEN.

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[doniaqueta]

Hello, knitters and crocheters of Tumblr

I come to you with an app idea, not to start any sort of crowdfunding, I don't want to start the next Tumblr scam. This is just something I want to do (actually, already started to do because I have bad impulse control) and I want to see if anyone else would be interested in using it. Again, I am asking for $0.00 MXN (that's $0.00 USD), and it would be a free app, no ads, maybe I'll slap a link to my Ko-Fi in it but that's it.

I am not doing this for profit, I'm doing it because it'll be useful for me, because the idea goblin in my head in insatiable, and my hubris is immeasurable.

Details under the cut, and I'll be adding updates as I go at the end of the post

The idea is:

An app to help you keep track of current knitting and crocheting projects, projects (aka patterns) you want to get to, and materials you need for all that stuff.

The WIP section would have tabs for each project you started, because if you're like me, it won't be just one. Each tab would include:

A row counter

Information on the pattern, like its name, some notes, the section you're currently working on (for patterns with different sections where the row count is reset)

A timer for the time you've been working on that project, because you deserve fair pay if you sell your craft so you have to know how long you've worked on it

The patterns section would have, well, patterns. For at least version 1.0, I'm thinking a list of PDFs that are stored in your phone and open in your phone's PDF viewer.

Finally, the materials section would just be a good old fashioned shopping list. You input items manually, you check 'em as you get 'em.

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Update 29/01

I've finished the mockups and the design of the icons I'll be using in the app. I'm going to start moving into coding territory.

Update 06/02

I've started the development and it's going pretty well. I opted for React Native, and while I have experience with React, I was a bit daunted by the idea of going into React Native. But! It's been smooth sailing so far. I've got a sturdy project structure, a functional menu, and an almost functional shopping list.

Update 19/02

I missed last week's update because I was very sick. For most of the first week, after finishing the shopping list, I worked on code organization and documentation. Now that I was sure that I was going to use React Native, I wanted to make sure the project is organized and sturdy. After that, I've been working on the pattern list, which has been a bit of a pain because I want to respect the user's privacy and security and not access the entire filesystem if I don't need to.

Update 27/02

I got frustrated with my troubles with the filesystem, so like any good procrastinator, I put that part aside and started working on other stuff. Apart from tinkering with the style and some background work to improve performance, I've also added support for different languages (currently just English and Spanish because those are the ones I feel confident I won't fuck up the translations, but I'm thinking of later asking for help with more languages), and I've started working on the WIP section.

Update 08/03

I haven't been able to work on it a lot this week because I had a lot of work to do for my actual job (I had to do my job at my job, shocking, I know), but last week I finished building the first functional version of the WIP section. As it is, it's only for one project, but it should be relatively easy to add tabs for multiple projects. I also had the chance to do something like a demo with a potential user, which is just a fancy way of saying I showed what I've done so far to my cousin (a great knitter & crocheter) and she really liked it :D

Update 12/04

Gap in updates because I was a bit overwhelmed by my job so I gave myself a lil vacation on this project. This week I got back to work and now the WIP screen officially supports multiple projects in different tabs. This means the WIP screen is done! Which means I will soon have no choice but to stop procrastinating the pattern list and face my filesystem problems oh no.

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The poll has ended but I'm leaving the results up: