#digital toolbox

[marywoodartdept]

Practicing Paperless Art

Santo has been honing his #digitalart skills this summer with his iPad Air & Apple Pen. He loves the vast tools, full color palette, and the magical "undo" button that digital art offers. Check out his latest digital animatronic portraits #MarywoodArt

One of the most fundamental ways to improve one’s artwork is by practicing. With that said, I took it upon myself to practice my own artwork during these summer months. Most currently, I am dwelling mainly in digital art because it is the most accessible medium for me at my home. Moreover it is easy for me to take my iPad with me on summer trips so I can continue creating elsewhere. Why I Love…

[rainflare60]

Kaku Sketches (because I can't get over Water 7) 🧰🌊🏗

We're continuing the late-night One Piece fanart trend. Perhaps I should go to sleep.

Seriously, it's past 2:00 am. I need to get some melatonin.

Do ya'll stay up late doing projects? Feel free to answer in the tags!

🧡🖤💙

[jonreytrevino]

Mouse in a Box

pixel_dailies : toolbox : 6/7/23

[webmarketingar]

AssociationREADY Digital Toolbox for the HOA Industry

At AssociationREADY, our cloud-based solutions are designed to transform the HOA industry by saving your office time, money, and effort. Our suite of software applications empowers you to modernize outdated processes and automate many of the daily tasks your staff handles. Since 2008, we have been America's top choice for Resale & Closing Documents, Community & HOA Collections Violations Software, and information processing for managed communities. We offer solutions that help grow your business without increasing costs. Discover how our applications can assist you today.

ReadyCOLLECT is a collections and enforcement solution tailored for HOA attorneys and law firms. Whether you run a small private practice or a large law firm, our highly configurable solution provides powerful document generation, customized workflows, and comprehensive tracking for all legal documents, costs, and fees. Enhance your resale packages and community document delivery with our ReadyRESALE document automation application. It boosts your productivity and can even generate additional revenue. Learn more about our flexible and powerful software applications by visiting our website at https://bit.ly/2Y98bQo

[reubenyeoart]

Commission - Mouse Tinkerer

A commission for a client of their OC!

[lords21-blog]

Digital Marketers Toolbox: Review 2023.

Looking to level up your digital marketing game? Look no further than the Digital Marketers Toolbox: 2023. This all-in-one platform is the ultimate solution for all your digital marketing needs, consolidating multiple tools and platforms into one comprehensive tool. With advanced AI technology, you can enhance keyword research, content creation, and audience targeting for better campaign…

[vitaminseetarot]

PAC: An Exchange For Your Desire 🦇🔮

Hey y'all, I'm back for another reading on this night of Halloween. Hope you're having a whimsical fun night. This PAC is inspired by recently watching Hocus Pocus 2. It was a pretty fun romp which made some good callbacks to the original.

I won't explain why the title relates to the movie to not spoil it, but I wanted to dive into a darker reading for this season. To acquire what you want, something must be exchanged. For this reading, we'll be exchanging away fears, doubts, and limiting beliefs for what aligns with our ideal life. But what will it be for you?

Pile 1 - Red, Candle 💓🔥 Pile 2 - Green, Cat 💚🐱‍🐉 Pile 3 - Purple, Book 💜📖

Pile 1 - Red, Candle 💓🔥

Temperance, Eight of Pentacles, Three of Pentacles; Tiger; Radiant; "the infinite ocean of ideas we're all allowed to swim in"; 12 - Let it Out! Dare to be Heard. In Your Darkness & Your Light.

Hey there, pile 1. There's something glittery and warm about your reading. Bright, excited, festive. You may be artistic in nature, or you've been feeling an extra bout of creative inspiration lately. You have so many rich avenues to explore, I feel more than one thing may be calling you (like pursuing jewelry making and crocheting) or you are skilled in many areas. You might have one idea that stands out and shines more brightly than the others. Yet while you yearn to reach for it and claim it as yours, a strange force pulls you back. The fog whispers that you have to be even-keeled, fold back, and not reveal too much of yourself. But this idea might be taking you down a path uncharted, where no one can easily hold your hand to guide you with advice. It may be completely against an agreed code or standard. I'm hearing possibly provocative, your work could stir up energies that would rather stay sheltered and dormant. It may feel overwhelming to even think of committing to the concept.

Perhaps you've been given word over the years that it's better to always be modest about your work. It could be that you were taught to always protect your ideas and concepts from outside influence. Maybe even that it's important to listen to others' advice when it came to analyzing your creative vision, that your work should please the masses. These things, in and of themselves, are not necessarily bad. But when it mixes with guilt and imposter syndrome in the same cauldron, things are bound to erupt. The opulent tiger wants to remind you of your inner desire for positive recognition for your original creative ideas. It wants to back in radiance of a vision made clear, a job well done. But the fog mixing in the cool night air distorts your vision, presenting a hundred good ideas while telling you only one will work. Maybe not all of them will work, but out of the infinite pool you have access to, some are bound to be sure winners. It's all a matter of focusing one at a time while knowing that other drafts and concepts will be waiting for you in the wing.

I love this oracle card with the trumpet playing skeletons (doot), it's one of my favorites. It wishes to remind you that you don't have to be afraid to show your work to somebody you trust, as long as you're comfortable in sharing it with them. Something you have created may be eligible to be published somewhere, whether digital or in person. It could be anything from fanfiction to uploading a song online to showing your vase at an art gallery. If you wish for more creative expression and inspiration in your life, you must exchange your fear of letting your projects be seen by others. You must, with eight of pentacles, chip away at the marble by making drafts and scribbling and messing around with your artistic toolbox so that energy that properly flow. Each piece may take time, and that's okay. Needing to rush the process is part of the fear that must be released, as you cannot allow artistic vision to flow on somebody else's schedule. It's the rushing culture that's hurting animation studios nowadays, so I think there is something to slowing down during creation that's needed here. Let your magic shine on its own time.

Pile 2 - Green, Cat 💚🐱‍🐉

Page of Wands, 5 of Swords, VII Chariot; Tapir; Trillion; "Goodnight! also you didn't get enough done today", 58 - Like Ivy, We Grow Best Where There is Room For Us.

Hi, pile 2. Your energy is soft and supportive like a leaf holding a raindrop. Chill, relaxed, here to help others. For the most part, you don't really mind being in your comfort zone, playing to the beat of your own drum while the world around you raves in chaos from the outside. You've been convinced that as long as you play your part and get along, things will work themselves out. In your reading, though, I see a desire for an expansion. There is something in you craving freedom from some kind of restriction. I'm seeing a princess wanting to escape the castle to run into the woods, whether to run from the duties bestowed upon her or from quarrels fuming deep within the palace halls. A princess can be beautiful, kind, erudite, and brave, but it's not until she leaves the crumbling walls behind that the world can really behold those qualities.

You could be looking at the current circumstances and wondering if it's because you haven't applied enough effort or forethought into things that plans haven't worked out or things fell apart, rather than seeing the shaky foundation to start with. Applying a thin coat of paint can't stave off the rotting of wood forever, even if it's made to preserve. In other words, if things aren't working out, try to take a look at your surroundings. Does it support you, does it lift you up? Does it cradle you from harsh influences beyond? Or is it adding to the piling stress and suppressing room for play and adventure? Is it even taking advantage of your good, easygoing nature? Tiny patches aren't going to keep everything held up, and it's only adding to the weight that you desire to release and could lead to burn out. Storytime: I once had to withdraw from my most important class in school and do it over the summer because I knew no amount of shaving off sleep to study was going to make a difference in the grade. The class needed much more nurture and attention than I could give to it at the time. The busy environment just didn't support the studying because of a packed schedule. It ended up being a wise move that worked out, though it didn't seem like it would be that way at first. This is an anecdote but if it resonates with you academically, I would talk to an advisor to decide the best course of action.

The ivy breaking out of the grave shows that you have a free spirit which cannot be tamed down by the obligatory demands of society. There is a strong need to embrace your full authenticity here so to make the changes you want to see around you, and to walk away when your surroundings refuse to change. Like moving away from a noisy apartment because you're staying true to yourself when you say you can't sleep with so much noise. If no amount of communication with the roommates or neighbors will help, moving may be the next best option. You must exchange where you are now for where you want to be next, as you deserve to thrive in a setting that nourishes your mind and soul's unique potential. You must give up the ever-present order to be agreeable to those who disrupt your boundaries and personal peace if you wish to embrace more intellectual and creative freedom, or even just extra sleep at night.

Pile 3 - Purple, Book 💜📖

III Empress, Judgement, XVIII Moon; Hermit Crab; Fire; "i am brand new + teenager me + childhood me + baby me + source"; 61 - Each Morning We May Be Born Anew. What We Do Now is What Matters Most.

How's it going, pile 3? There is a quiet feminine energy to these cards. This pile could be getting in touch with their more magnetic traits, or doing traditionally gentle hobbies to relax. I'm imagining a spa with massage and saunas, where rewinding becomes an activity in itself. I'm seeing a powerful transitional phase here with three major arcana in a row, so it may explain bouts of tiredness and confusion. Being totally switched to On mode would cause firing from every cylinder at this point in time, like a stressed snake biting its tail. Wow, I'm even yawning and tearing up while typing this, so like pile 2 there is a strong emphasis to getting much needed rest. But for you, group 3, I think this rest is really necessary to heal critical parts of you that haven't had the chance to before, things that must be put back in place before you can move forward completely. You're in a phase of deep healing on a physical and emotional level.

When we wash, we shed away old skin, and it's shown here in the cards that this is happening incrementally. As you purge and release old memories and issues of the past, those parts of you will start to feel smaller as you grow and take on greater challenges. The grade school felt big and scary until you were in high school, which by then it felt small and quaint. Much in the way that people dream at night in order to reconfigure the mind, letting go of unwanted information and consolidating important details, this is how your healing process is taking place. It doesn't always feel great in the meantime, but the greater comfort comes from knowing that it's a necessary step. Whoever told you that taking baths was only for cleansing is wrong. It may be why people technically use baths, but taking a shower just to cry and let all the sticky emotions go down the drain is also a valid reason. Whoever told you that you needed to have a good time on your breaks is also wrong. If you're going through an emotional period, every minute spent to give the feelings room to breathe and speak out is worth it. It's like ghost hunting: not everyone understands it until they feel the calm in the air.

This is a delicate phase where you're getting back in touch with yourself again. Exchange away the need to worry about what others may think of your healing process. These things happen in cycles, which don't respond to "now and forever" commands to stop. You get to decide when you're ready to step out of hiding. The only emotion to let go of once and for all is the guilt carried from having so much to feel. It can be infuriating how society makes feeling grief or even moodiness into such a big deal, instead of giving the same compassion that's given to those who are physically unwell. You don't need this kind of guilt, even if it was pushed into your hands by those who can't even utter an apology themselves. Deep emotional restoration is available to you, as you're in a phase where you're transforming and letting baggage fall away to make room for powerful growth. Let the passion rise and fall and exchange the guilt of flying away from the sorrow inflicted upon you. You have a right to heal as you wish.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2024, @VitaminseeTarot ™

[thewanderingmask]

my submission for the hermitcraft season 10 fan art gallery: Xisuma Eternal! (actual size on left, embiggened version on right)

there are a ton of little thoughts that went into this and i will now go off about them at length (ramble under the cut)

let's start with the image layout and composition! my first idea was to do an homage to the original doom box art because of X's skin, but ultimately I decided on referencing this Eternal cover (hence the title of the piece) because it sparked some stronger ideas in my brain.

i still wanted to keep that link to the original though, so i did my very best to emulate the original logo with X's name - replacing the original texture with binary as one of many references to X's role supporting the technical side of the server.

(for no reason other than my own amusement, the binary in the letters is translated lyrics from X's verse in the hermit gang song. i don't even know how much of that is still visible after lining the letters, but i liked putting it there)

i've only been watching hermitcraft for a few months, and there's an awful lot of history i don't know about. so i focused on doing my best celebrating builds X has worked on here in season 10! i would have loved to include his base as well, but ultimately i ran out of room.

(there are still a few nods to other seasons based on knowledge i've acquired through osmosis. evil X is the most obvious, but i was also able to sneak in a couple small carvings next to the X in the title text!)

coming back around to xisuma's work on the technical side, that's why Evil X is backed by error windows. it's also why xisuma is holding a toolbox! it was the best visual metaphor i could come up with for the digital job of maintenance and repair.

(and of course he has a lovely cup of tea as well)

the allays (holding redstone) are partially in reference to farms X has been making, partially bringing back in that angelic/demonic vibe of Doom, and mostly because their intended role of supporters and helpers feels very thematically appropriate for X.

the lines in the sky are of course meant to evoke the shapes of mace race, and the black cube is a minecraft-ified version of the Soulside Eclipse logo.

(if you're not familiar, that's xisuma's music! it's good!! give it a listen sometime! it's on youtube!)

the silverfish at the very bottom are visual reference to the demon hordes of Doom - and of course they're also much more directly referencing X's very clever prank in impulse's city.

finally, on the walls of spawn we have the carved symbols - one for every other hermit. i remember X mentioning in a stream once something about fulfillment from supporting others. (i apologise if i'm remembering less than clearly.) it just felt like if i wanted to represent X, it felt important to include them as well.

and of course it made me happy to do something for Every hermit, since all of them

(smallishbeans/joel was actually the one i got most stuck on! there wasn't really a single item or symbol i could think of to narrow him down to. ultimately i decided on a torii gate and a little letter J, but i'm honestly still thinking about it)

ah right, and the Actual last thing: this turner out to be totally unnecessary, but i absolutely did draw this in the minecraft map hex code colours. it's a tricky palette to work with, and i learned a LOT about pixel art while trying to get the sky to look nice!

this piece took about 10 days to complete, maybe the longest i've ever spent on a single illustration like this - and honestly, i'm really happy and pretty proud of how it turned out!!

[diejager]

Blood on your feet and hand

Cw: NSFW - SMUT, public sex, foot fetish, hand fetish, blood and gore, soft sex, unsafe sex, creampie, pregnancy kink? Petname (bunny, bun), murder.

Wc: 1.8k

Collection masterlist

When Ghostface first approached you with the surprise of trying something new, to let him test out a little idea that crossed his mind - or so he said. He wanted to scratch an itch that had been plaguing his mind like that half-dead mummy wrapped in toilet paper and gold, but this one wasn't annoying or disgusting, he needed to try it out, to figure out why it bothered him so much.

You worked on your generator with a toolbox as Jake saved Laurie from the hook, having lost Jeff early on, the first few minutes of Ghostface's hunt. The rapid rush of everything happening around you seemed to be the result of Danny's thrill and excitement for your surprise, stalking with impeccable stealth and downing survivor after survivor within his Night Shroud. Everyone, except you, was down to their last chance, being saved once by you and another by the other. Danny was ruthless in his hunt, he took you down once, wanting to see blood ooze from the gash he made on your back, having it paint your skin and clothes for when he moved with his plan.

Generators kept exploding or being locked by The Entity, She seemed to feel Ghostface's excitement and knew what he had in mind, wanting to help. Clawed hooks nicked your sleeves, insectoid legs locking the gens and blocking you from getting any progress done before they were lost. You had restarted the same machine thrice over after having it explode in your face and escaped Ghostface that ran towards you with adrenaline-pumped blood.

He had a high tendency of getting his hands dirty, wanting to cover the clear skin on your body like an artist painted his canvas, with ardor and ambition. He made you dance and scurry around him while he slashed, leaving shallow wounds to bleed until someone helped you heal.

A scream pierced the silence of the wood, followed by the explosion that resulted in The Entity taking them away. Then a scream was wrenched from Jake's throat, a low, pained groan as he was taken through the dark clouds by Her hands. Utter silence reigned over the map, wind wailing through the branches and open windows used to vault. Your body was on guard, muscles tight with anticipation and slight trepidation, and eyes whipping back and forth for a glimpse of his white mask and dark grey attire.

"Looking for me, bunny?" a raspy modulated voice spooked you.

You flinched as strong arms wrapped around you, locking your back to his chest, cool and blood-soaked. You struggled, knowing he loved the thrill of a chase, that he'd either go harder or be softer depending on his mood.

"You're playing with fire, bun."

You could hear the dark undertone of lust and want hidden in his threat, the hardness that poked your ass told you much more than his words did. He stepped forward, one foot at a time as he guided you to the barn and placed you over the dropped palette, facing his screaming mask.

"Is this about the surprise, Danny?" your voice sounded so weak, a step between shy and whiny when you peered up at him, hands in between his gloved ones.

He hummed, head tilting left in a feline-like manner, cunningly handsome.

"Take my gloves off."

As he ordered, you slowly peeled his gloves off, fingers touching the hardened callouses on his digits. You felt the rough scars of his time spent wielding the knife, over the lines of old wounds from the sharp edge of his trusty weapon. His hand grasped yours, stopping you from admiring him. Reaching for his mask, he pulled his hood down and tilted his mask up, letting you glaze over his piercing, hazel eyes under his dark brows (the dye went away a few weeks into the realm, giving him back his natural, dark brown hair), a sharp nose, full lips pulled into a soft smirk and stubbled jaw.

Your eyes followed his hand, slowly cupping you in his palm and bringing it to his warm lips, kissing the extremities of your fingers with adoration. He trailed down to your open palm and gave you a long and slow lick, from your wrist to the end of your fingers and brought your middle and index into his warm mouth.

Your surprised gasp spurred him on, and the twitch of your pink and clenching thighs urged his other hand to travel down your navel. His eyes gleamed, keeping them on you as he pulled your shoes and your pants off, leaving you bare with your panties facing him. You breathed harshly, feeling how soaked you were from his dilated pupils while he placed messy kisses down your inner thigh to your ankle.

He cupped the foot he was kissing and laced his fingers with the toes from your other foot, tongue going through the crack between your toes with surprising skill. You hadn't expected this to be the idea he had, that itch he wanted to scratch so bad; whether it was disgusting or unhygienic left your mind when he sucked on the curved pad of your foot, feeling a ticklish tingle spring up your leg and striking your tightening core.

His hums sent vibrations through your limb, thumb massaging your other foot lazily, seemingly free of any thought but your presence, squirming in his grasp and gasping his name.

"Love your fingers- they're so small, so clean, so fuckin' innocent, bun. I want to see them soaked in blood," he groaned, precum staining his briefs at the image of your hands and feet stained with his - your - victims. "I bet you could hold a knife in your foot, huh? Gonna step on someone's open wound and let it soak your toes."

You whimpered at his murderous wishes, still watching him move your limbs limply like a puppeteer playing with his strung doll, the smoldering breaths that hit your covered core, teasing you with his tongue and nimble digits touching your legs.

"Please."

Your moan was breathy, filled with need and want, enough for Ghostface to stop his worshiping. Your panties were off in seconds, cunt stuffed with two fingers, pumping at the beat of your panting pleas. The map seemingly shrunk around you, wrapping you in a world of silence with the only sounds being the wet squelch from his quick curls and pumps, your moans, and Danny's encouraging words.

You spammed around him, his lips swallowing your cries as you coated his hand with slick, legs clenching around his neck. He helped you ride out your climax before he pushed you down, unclasping his belts and shedding his pants in a frenzied hurry to fill you.

He entered with a grunt, eyes closed in the pleasure of your tight - although he stretched you out, you always stayed tight around his girth - and moist walls that hugged him snugly.

"Tight and warm, bun," he mumbled, staring at you with a dark, yet loving gaze. "'M going to pump you full."

You keened at his words, body rocking back into his pounding hips, legs wrapped around his narrow waist. Through the thick haze of pleasure, you caught the way he stared at you as if you hung the moon and the stars above your heads, a contrast to the way he acted publically. He was callous and bloodthirsty, survivors looked at him with fear, disgust, and anger for his show of blood and murderous lust; but you couldn't share their view on the man that was holding you with so much care and love. He slashed and hurt you, maimed you at times, but never killed you, and he always sought you out after a trial, wishing to know how you were if the phantom pain still lingered and persisted under your skin, if you were treated well for surviving - the sole survivor of The Ghostface.

You wondered why he looked at you with so much adoration, you weren't perfect, you weren't in pristine condition, and you weren't special, yet he took so much care of your being. You've always wanted to ask him, question why he chose you, but all your thoughts were drowned by the force of his deep thrust, hip canting up to hit your g-spot with his leaky head.

He gazed at you from the corner of his eyes, head tilted to mouth at your palm, tongue lapping the skin between your fingers and sucking on them shamelessly. Although his lower half shifted so sharply, rocking his girthy cock into your squelching cunt, his torso stayed unmoving, left hand too preoccupied with holding your hand to his face, teeth, mouth, and tongue mapping every inch of your hand

"Your cunt's so tight, bunny," he groaned, feeling you clench around him when he bit into the meat part of your palm. "Your hands are so soft- fuck- I want to bite them, mark them, bloody them- can I, bunny?"

He sounded beautiful when he begged for you, to let him do things you knew were morbid or dangerous, the thrill and delight it brought you overshadowed your concerns; even though you knew it shouldn't, you couldn't stop yourself.

"Yes, please, yes."

Spurred by your words, his eyes closed as he bit your palm, sinking his teeth into your flesh with a deep moan, piercing the protective layer of skin and drinking your blood. Your squeal made him suck hard, wanting to smear his lips with the life-giving liquid in your body.

You felt so good, coming from just a single bite, wrenching him of his own orgasm with stuttering and erratic pumps. He pressed his lips harder into your hand as he groaned, thrusting deeper into you before he crashed down from his high, the head of his cock spurting cum. His whole body shook from the intensity, it was a new feeling, the strong rush that came over him from indulging his little curiosity - his little fetish would be a better word.

"Fuck- the things you do to me, bunny," he pressed your navel in marvel.

You mewled, feeling warmth filling you steadily, the pressure of his cock and cum made you look somewhat bloated, round with the potency of being knocked up if pregnancy was possible inside the realm. You heaved loudly, lungs soaking in the cool air that passed through your gape mouth and eyes rolled back.

The implication of Ghostface's desire added to your growing list, his addicting display with his mouth on your feet and hands had your mind in a hazed cloud. Your toes were still curled and your body tensed with unwinding tingles from his bite, teeth marking your palm and licking the red drops. His lips looked beautiful in crimson - your blood - and teeth sinfully sharp, you wondered why you questioned how he had you wrapped around his thumb. Breathtaking and adoring in the same, looking at you with wonder and you, him.

"Seems like you feel the same, huh? Letting me play with your feet and mark your hand, this stay, alright, bun? I want to see my teeth in your left-hand next time. "

[pikxelbit]

A/N: Really cheesy but idk, I wrote it because someone gave me a prompt, (not specifically for Turbo, just a simple prompt for a story).

Sway With Me

Turbo x Reader | One shot | 1,225 words

Warnings: None

Prompt: You and him get stuck in a garage as you both wait for the rain to stop. While waiting, you find a radio and get the idea of dancing.

Cold winds start to blow harder through the game as the racetracks started to darken along with it's landscape. It was strange to have weather here, althought the game did have a low budget when in the making, it seems the developers added a bit of an easter egg to this digital world. Although they could have saved the money and effort for better graphics, this was still something to cherish. As useless and pointless to have weather change in this game, it is still quite an interesting phenomenon.

Both you and Turbo were wrapped up in a friendly banter after the arcade closed. Standing around, his grin would continue to persist as you continue to reply.

"Hey, come on it was fun wasn't it?" Turbo spoke, a grin widening slightly on his face.

"You told me you wouldn't go too fast!" Pointing your finger at him, you try to fix your hair. It was messy and tangled up, all because Turbo chose to speed up the pace when driving both of you here. With your lack of helmet, you ended up with shuffled up locks.

"What'd you expect, I'm 'Turbo'. Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?" He commented back, snickering slightly as he replied.

"Turb-" as you were about to reply, a sudden shift in the air managed to get your attention. With one single drop of water front the sky, Turbo quickly knew what was going to happen.

"Well, I think we should go..." Turbo murmured, looking up at the clouds quickly forming in the sky.

Getting back into his racecar, he urges you to sit beside him, "Come on, or do you want to get wet?"

"You won't go too fast again right?" You asked, taking a seat beside him.

Without a moment left to lose, Turbo didn't answer. Starting up the engine, he only gave you a smirk before the car accelerated quickly towards the garage.

Surprised at the sudden pace, you try to get a grip on anything that would help you stay in your seat. Gripping on Turbo's shoulder and a part of his car, you managed to remain seated in the car as both of you quickly arrive at the garage.

"Geez, didn't know you were that clingy," Turbo teased lightly towards you.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you take your hand off him and his car before removing yourself from Turbo's vehicle. After only a few drops of rain pitter pattered, the storm would quickly escalate. Quickly opening the door, both of you took shelter in the garage.

This was normal, well at least for Turbo. The quick exange in his games' weather was an astonishing view but not a good experience to get in. As it rained, dark grey clouds would continue to appear from nowhere, making it look like both of you are going to be stuck here for a while.

"Jeez..." You mutter under your breath as you silently watched the rain get a bit stronger from inside of the garage. Having all the doors and windows closed, you were left with a feeling of bordome. Looking around though, you managed to get yourself entertained.

You did get inside this garage a few times in the past. Although you never really did get to inspect it fully. Now feeling a sense of boredome starting to sprout, you find yourself a bit more focused on certain details you've missed in the past. Looking around now, you notice a dusty as well as toolboxes neatly placed on the desk. There seemed to be the usual things a mechanic should have when tasked to fix a car. Moving onwards though, as your eyes continue to wander, it suddenly stops once your vision sees a few dirty boxes in the shelves. Noticing, Turbo takes it upon himself to guess what you're thinking of.

"What, hoping to find something?" he asked, his gaze redirected to the boxes as well.

"Not really," you replied stepping forward the shelves, "just curious..."

"What, curious of a few dusty boxes probably filled with junk?" Turbo joked as he took one box from the shelf.

"Well you never really know what could be inside," you replied as you stepped forward to inspect the box Turbo placed down.

The box was of course dirty, on top was a thick layer of dust, enough to make you sneeze. Although a bit old, the box stood mighty and stable to hold certain objects.

Opening the box, you both looked inside and see...

"Whoa, a radio..?" You asked, curiosity sparkling in your eyes.

"Heh, haven't seen this in years," Turbo exclaimed in wonder as he took out the old radio from the box, placing it on top of a desk nearby. The radio was shaped like an oval when looking at it from the front and from the top, on the side though, it's appearance was half of an oval. Plopping it down slowly on the desk, you both exchange looks before proceeding to search through the box.

Tinkering slightly with the radio's antennas you asked Turbo, "How did you even get a radio?"

"Ehh, Flash (one of his bros), managed to find it somewhere in the Game Central Station. I don't really know but he did sort of tinker with it before putting it away for some reason," Turbo explained, pulling out a cassette tape from the box.

"Let's see if it still works yeah?" You comment, before plugging the radio somewhere. Agreeing, to your idea, Turbo inserts the cassette tape into the radio.

A nice, playful tune starts to play, although not really clear, the sounds emenating from the player was enough to make you want to dance.

"May I have this dance?" you ask, raising your hand for him to hold. He hesitates for a second, he didn't really know how to dance...

"I'll teach you a few tricks I know, it'll be fun I promise," a smile stretching on your face, you continue to keep your hand in place for him to reach. A few seconds pass by and he doesn't answer for a while. But as you continue to gaze at him, he couldn't help but say yes.

"Fine..." He mutters under his breath.

Surprised, you suddenly pull him close to you, "Let's have some fun yeah?" Still holding his hand, you try to guide him through a dance. Although a bit wonky at the start he manages to get the hang of it after only a couple of tries, which was quite impressive.

"You're doing really good," you spoke, swaying your hips as you follow the rythm of the song.

"I think I'm getting the hang of it," Turbo replies, following suit as he tries to complement your moves with his own.

Still holding hands, as you twirl and twist, Turbo's hold on you tightens slightly a few times as you're moves would sometimes need support from him. Still having fun altogether though, you both dance with each other, a smile stretched on both of your faces.

Smiling and laughing, both of you enjoy your time together under the shelter of this garage. Although the weather may be in a bad mood, you both find yourselves uplifted in each other's arms as the tune of each song guides both of you through sweet moments of happiness.

[comicaurora]

As someone who’s thinking about creating a webcomic (largely for myself but may potentially make it public), can you provide advice on outlining and panelling? Those are the things I think I’d need some of the most help with other than backgrounds which… I can figure that out myself. Probably.

Good question! I've answered a similar one about paneling in depth here.

Outlining/storyboarding is a different animal, and depends strongly on your personal writing style and how your brain works.

There are a few ways you're "supposed" to write/outline comics, but pretty much all of them start as a script, similar to a screenplay. You note down character dialogue, the panel it takes place in, what the character is doing at the time.

You describe the panel like a shot in a movie - establishing shot, long shot, close up - and contain within that panel the script for what you'll put in the word bubbles. You might also include a thumbnail for what the page layout you're envisioning would look like.

This is because most comics are made by teams of more than one person, and the person who writes the plot/dialogue is not the person who does the layout and sketches - and usually that's not the same person who does the inking, the coloring or the lettering. So each stage of the process needs to be clearly laid out.

This is not how things work for comics made by a single person, and this is also not how my brain works in specific. If I try to write a script first, the characters inevitably end up being incredibly wordy and go off on philosophical tangents, and the dialogue doesn't fit right on the panels. And once I start drawing the actions I've choreographed, half the time I'll only get a few panels in before a character wants to do something unexpected but much more interesting that completely derails all my best-laid plans. None of my scripts ever survived contact with the page.

Fortunately, because I make art digitally, I can do things like "write all the dialogue straight onto the blank page" and then move/edit the text however I want. So the process I've developed that works for me specifically involves me storyboarding out the dialogue and paneling straight on the page rather than starting with a screenplay or script.

That's not to say it goes straight from my brain onto the page. If I'm stuck on a scene I'll usually crack open a little notes file and write out things like "what just happened, what is this character feeling, what do they want to do next" or just spitball possible dialogue options or write out a little mini-timeline of events in linear order. This gives me a guideline to reference when I sit down to storyboard, and it can help me work through a little knot of writer's block. Even then, the dialogue I hash out there isn't going to be as well-paced or as good as what I end up putting on the final page. It's a first draft of a scene - translating it onto the page, it'll play out differently.

This works well for my storytelling approach, which is flexible and character-driven. I like to give myself a lot of options - a toolbox to play with - and that means my outlines are often very loose, and can change a lot before I put them on the page. But this is a strategy I developed for myself through trial and error - it's not going to work for everybody.

I recommend you start off by reading a wide array of comics with an eye for how they were laid out and scripted, and test a few methods for yourself to see what works best for you. And also read Scott McCloud's Understanding Comics, it's an incredibly valuable crash course!

[tjodity]

did some art for an oc for a sci fi setting I'm thinking a little. Her name will probably change but I was struck really strongly by his personality and details abt his character before I got a solid name. she was originally going to be thrown into a sort of space opera thing but I kinda want to write space station fluff now

[ID 1: A large white square with text and several pieces of art digitally drawn on. The main text reads "Taraneh. She slash he. Grew up on a planet; currently works maintenance on a space station. Aroace. Hobbies include trying to cook, kissing her giant insect friend, and trying to write poetry." Main text ends. The main drawing is a sketched headshot of Taraneh. She wears a hijab folded so that it wraps across the bottom half of his face, across her head, and draped around her shoulders. A hair band decorated with a simplified lunar cycle is partially visible on her forehead below her hijab. She has acne scars around her cheeks. Her pupils are dark and she has small wrinkles around her right eye. Her left eye is half closed and looking in a different direction, with more wrinkles beneath. Her eyebrows are scraggly and thin. She looks neutral. A smaller drawing towards the left shows Taraneh in a hijab that doesn't cover her face. Her smile is slanted, and she looks excited. There is a blank text bubble beside her. She is making broad gestures with her hands. A note beside it says "Can't emote with his full face but feels a lot of things and uses her hands to emote more." Note ends. A doodle towards the top is labelled "Work uniform." Taraneh wears a hijab similar to those used for sports, with no folds, and she wears a respirator on her face. She wears a tanktop above an undershirt which covers her arms. She wears jeans with kneepads and a carabiner with tools attached. She is sweating, wiping her face with a towel. Her other hand holds a toolbox. There are two drawings to the right. Both are colored. The first is labelled "Teens". In it Taraneh is thinner and shorter, a teenager. She wears a a layered outfit, with embroidery, ruffles, and flower patterns running down the arms. Her skin is dark, and she wears a teal hijab. He is waving at the camera. The second drawing is labelled "Early thirties". It depicts Taraneh more closely to how she appears in the other drawings, taller and with broader shoulders and slightly darker skin. She wears grey boots and a dark blue baggy jumpsuit. Over the jumpsuit she wears a dark grey simple skirt with large pockets running across it, and a grey coat with purple and orange coloring around the collar. Above that he wears a blue satchel. She wears a teal hijab and a dark blue hair band. He is standing with his arms at his sides. The fourth drawing is back to being colorless. It depicts a tall alien creature from the chest up. The alien's head is comparable to a praying mantis, except that there are odd cones at each side of their head, their mandibles sit in a circle on their neck, and the lower half of their face is a segmented vent-like structure. Their torso resembles a human, if it was covered in an exoskeleton. Taraneh has her arms wrapped around the alien's neck, and is leaning into their shoulder. She is hugging them. His eyes are closed and he looks happy. The alien seems startled and raised one of their claws in surprise. Both Taraneh and the alien are blushing, though the alien more so. The caption reads "Me and my boy best friend." END ID]

[Images two and three are higher resolution depictions of the last three drawings.]

[haldenlith]

Been feelin' out of sorts, but also missing my AU boy, Ardwynn, so doodled him to chill. Was supposed to just be a sketch, but got a bug about me to try out some things with a noise brush I've had sitting around in my digital toolbox, and with faux-underpainting.

Not too bad.

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Total $hit$how: Bombs Away

in which Joy overcomes her boredom

cw: adult language

previous ///// masterlist ///// next

×~×~×

Things went from exciting to uneventful in record time. Even though they were on a supposed ‘tight schedule’, all they did was train and practice and practice and train.

Joy was no stranger to training overkill; she'd experienced it plenty in the army, but that at least made some sense. The army was full of dumbass kids who came in not knowing which way was up. Here wasn't. 

...With maybe the exception of Harbor. The guy looked thirty, but sure as hell acted like a dumbass kid. It was hard for her to pinpoint how old he actually was.

Not that it really mattered. No matter their age, skill, or background, they were all monkeys in the same shitshow.

They'd been here for close to a week now, and they still hadn't been given more info for the all important file. Not to mention the fact that the mission made no sense to her.

Sure, they were all skilled. Jericho had proven he could bust down cyber walls better than a digital wrecking crew, and she'd seen Benji crack every lock Sahota tossed his way in seconds. Even Kaius, for all his insufferability, was adept at finding little details the rest of them missed. And though Harbor followed directions about as well as a deaf rat would follow the pied piper, he still had the biotech to give him an edge on whatever Sahota tasked them with.

Skills aplenty. But why couldn't whoever’d sought them out just helo some mercenaries to whatever floor the secret tech shit was on and bust it up? Why did it require so much finesse? If it was so important, if leaving the program alone would potentially doom the city, what was with all the secrecy? And maybe most importantly, why couldn't the almighty Sahota and Vic do it themselves?

It probably wasn't her business. She probably just didn't care enough about the polite subtleties tech conglomerates required to give a shit.

But the powers that be demanded secrets and fine tuning, so fuck it, she'd play their game.

Training was fun enough, but Joy could stand to complain about their downtime options. As far as she could tell, they could either read, work out in the gym that was set up on the far side of the training room, or mindlessly wander the hallways.

She'd checked out the little library, and hadn't found many books she was interested in reading. There was barely a shelf's worth of nonfiction; old equipment manuals and biographies of people she’d never heard of. There was a significantly higher amount of classic literature. The kind of shit you had to read in school, and probably her least favorite genre. She'd sifted through the paperbacks anyway, if only out of boredom. The most worn book was a copy of the dreaded 1984, and when she flipped through its pages, she found tally marks. A shit ton of them, like someone had been bored and just wanted to see how many they could make.

There were maybe a hundred to a page, carefully drawn in the margins. Weird as they were, Joy couldn't find anything that gave them context, even after devoting an evening to checking the rest of the books for markings.

Maybe someone had a weird sense of humor and just wanted to put down 1,984 tallies. Either way, it didn't seem worth it to lose her mind over, so at the end of the night, she'd just shelved it and gone to bed. That had only been day two. Who knew how much time she'd have to kill while waiting for the mission to kick off?

The compound was woefully lacking in the engineering department. It didn't even have a proper toolbox, at least not one she'd been able to find, and Joy resorted to swiping little bits of cutlery and disposables to build shit. Nothing useful, just little things to entertain herself.

Day three, she made a working crossbow out of toothpicks and dental floss. Day four, a tiny model plane crafted from broken plastic cutlery. By day seven, she was on the verge of dismembering the AC unit in her room, just to see if she'd be able to fix it without a manual.

Joy pondered if it would be worth it as the crew stood half-awake on the sparring side of the training room, waiting for the morning’s session to begin. Of course, she didn't exactly have tools, but maybe she could improvise something.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed everyone else suddenly look towards the door, and made an effort to point her gaze in the same direction and pretend to pay attention, even though her mind was elsewhere.

It was Vic who walked in. A little weird, since it was usually Sahota strutting through the doors, but Joy brushed it off.

“Good morning, everyone,” Vic said.

“Good morning,” she parroted with the rest.

Maybe she could find a butter knife in the kitchen? With enough dedication, she could probably shape it into a half-decent flathead.

“I heard you've all been doing well in your training,” Vic continued.

What if she ran into an allen bolt though? Well, if it wasn't recessed she could probably finger-loosen it with enough dedication, but if it was—

“Today I'm going to test your skills.”

Joy's gaze suddenly sharpened. A test? That was new. Did that mean they were finally close to getting this show on the road? She raised her hand, and waited for Vic to look her way.

“How are you gonna do that?”

“I've laid out a mock mission. I'll give you all an objective, and see how quickly you can meet it. And perhaps more importantly, how you meet it.” He folded his arms, offering a friendly smile. “I'm afraid I haven't had the time to watch every one of Sahota's sessions. I’d like to see how it's coming along with my own eyes.”

“Where is Sahota?” Kaius asked from beside her.

“He's on a mission. A real one.” Vic chuckled. “Can't come to the phone right now and all that.”

“What sort of mission?”

“Well now, I can't go handing you all the details, Mr. Manak. I'm sure you understand.”

Joy had already assumed Sahota was going somewhere. This morning, she'd caught him and Vic in the kitchen and she swore they'd been about to kiss. She'd awkwardly excused herself then ran to tell Jericho.

Poor Jer needed something to distract himself with. The two of them had learned that there was no wifi in the computer lab way back on day one. And since they couldn't leave the compound and didn't have communication devices of their own, that meant they were effectively cut off from the rest of the world.

Which did make sense, considering all the top secrets they'd supposedly be exposed to. Not to mention the fact that the base’s location was probably a secret in itself.

Joy could deal. Her family was used to her going months without contact. Jer, on the other hand, was used to working from home. He had a kid now, a six year old daughter, and fuck had it really been that long since she'd last seen him?

They’d only had a semester's worth of compsci partnership before she'd deployed for the third time, but they'd really hit it off. Kept in touch, more or less, though she'd never mentioned her shady weapons dealings and he'd never mentioned his secret hacker missions. Which made them even. And now their respective skills had brought them back together, so Joy couldn't complain.

She was a little hurt that he'd never mentioned his kid, but given his skillset, she got it. You could never be too safe when you had both a family and a dangerous hobby.

“Her name's Arabella,” he'd told her, passing over a wallet-sized photo of a grinning girl with an assortment of wildflowers poking out of her softly-coiled afro. “Her mom took that on her birthday this year. She wanted a fairy princess party. That's the reason for all the flowers.”

“She's adorable.”

“She's a handful,” Jer said, smiling a proud-dad smile as he put away the picture. “She's the only reason I agreed to do this.”

Joy didn't have to ask what he meant. She didn't know what was at stake for the rest of the team, but for the two of them, it was just as much about protecting their loved ones as it was staying out of jail. It wasn't the government she had to worry about, or pride, or how society might judge her family. It was old enemies. People who would see her picture on the news and suddenly know where to look for her weaknesses. She imagined Jericho was in the exact same boat.

Vic clapped his hands together; a relatively soft sound, but enough to jerk her focus back into the moment.

“If everyone is ready, I'll brief you on your tasking.” He strolled over to one of the built-in metal cabinets that lined the sparring area, punching in a code on a keypad that prompted the doors to slide open. Inside, on the shelves, were what Joy could only describe as high-tech basketballs.

Or at least they were roughly the size and shape of a basketball. Most similarities ended there. They were smooth metal, with fine seams that suggested interior electronics, and a lense that was almost like… no shit.

“Are those robots?” Joy blurted out, forgetting to raise her hand this time.

Vic smiled. “Sharp, Miss Cavan. They are. Or drones, rather.” He took one in his hands, thumbing a button on the side, and the thing whirred to life, lifting itself from Vic’s grasp and hovering there.

Joy watched it with wide eyes. How was it floating? There was no propelling system or engine she could see, was it—?

“Electromagnetism,” Vic said, as if answering her thoughts. “We have a weak field that covers the training grounds.”

“Fancy stuff,” Jericho murmured.

“Is that our task?” Benji asked, gesturing at the drone. It swiveled in the air, facing its camera towards him, and he took a cautious step back. “Those… thingies?”

“On the contrary,” Vic said, moving to activate the other two. “The drones will act as a stand-in for armed security guards. They'll attempt to prevent you from reaching your goal.”

Benji gave an exaggerated wince. “But the drones aren't armed, are they?”

“They are.”

Joy's eyes flew to the trio of bots, scanning for weapons capabilities. Based on their size, they didn't have the carrying capacity for ammo or a full auto system. Not that she assumed Vic was willing to shoot them, but…

“Each drone is equipped with the equivalent of a cattle prod. Nothing that'll do permanent damage, but enough to give you a sting.”

Benji took a bigger step backwards. At this point, Joy was probably the only one in range of said ‘equivalent of a cattle prod’, but she didn't care. If anything, she wanted them to come at her so she could watch how they deployed their attack. Fuck, she’d give her left arm to take one of these apart. Maybe Vic would let her mess around with their armaments? She could probably devise a ranged electrical attack, if she could just get a look at the internals. She'd done similar shit in the gun shop, and she'd worked with some low-grade drones when she was still running arms overseas. Shouldn't be too tough to combine the two.

“What is our task?” Kaius took a step forward, so that he was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her, his eyes on the drones. “What goal will they be trying to prevent us from reaching?”

At that, Vic drew out another metallic device, this one boxy and covered in so many screens and buttons Joy figured most were just for decoration.

Vic set it down, typing a quick sequence into a keypad next to the cabinet. A giant sound, like stone dominoes, echoed out from behind them, and Joy whirled around.

The concrete pad that stretched between the sparring mats and the gym equipment was moving, shifting around like tectonic fucking plates and rearranging into something that looked like an abstract painting; huge cement cubes stacking into a maze of stairs that nearly reached the ceiling.

“Holy shit,” Joy whispered. “How does that work?”

Vic chuckled. “I can’t give away every secret, Miss Cavan.”

“Can I come work for you guys?”

“We'll see.” He hefted up the metallic box, fidgeting with some of the buttons and dials on one of its faces.

“Alright, team, listen up,” Vic said, raising his voice to draw their attentions back from the newly formed obstacle course. “This,” he held up the box, “is a bomb.”

Joy raised her eyebrows, again scanning its surface. If it was a bomb, its fuzing was total overkill. But given her current surroundings, she guessed she shouldn't be too shocked.

“It's… like a real bomb?” Benji asked, but Vic’s only reply was a smile. He pressed a button, and the side facing them lit up in a garish, movie-style countdown. Digital red, seconds already ticking away.

“Shit,” Benji muttered.

“I trust you understand your goal then.” Vic pressed another button and the box spun out of his hands, hovering alongside the drones for a moment before disappearing into the maze of concrete that now stood in the center of the room.

“Evade the drones. Disarm the bomb. You have one hour.”

He grinned at the collection of shocked faces surrounding him.

“Try not to die.”

×~×~×

tag list:

@theonewithallthefixations

[bugbart]

I'm going to be asking a lot of artists I follow this question, but how did you develop your style? It SEEMS like most people find their style and stick with it forever, just making improvements and iterations. I tend to work in a lot of different styles because I enjoy doing that, though I know there are things I gravitate towards as well. But I wonder what your journey was and how you got feedback and improved while staying true to what you enjoyed?

hmm. I think the first thing i always come back to is that "style" is more or less just a code word for shorthand, especially if you're looking at a simplified, "toon-y" style. An art style is just an artists toolbox of learned techniques and shortcuts.

stylized anatomy, stylized backgrounds, etc. for a lot of artists is just how they're visually translating or abbreviating the thing they're trying to draw. If i find something works as both an efficient and satisfying visual shorthand for me, It'll find it's way into my art style.

for example, drawing faces in this style does not take very long at all, which makes the style choice good for a comic where this character is present in nearly every single panel. It's simple, its cute and fun to draw, and also to most people will effectively "read" as a face.

My style comes from taking inspiration from things I like to look at, I don't know how else to better describe it. There's a lot of influence from western comic books as well as anime/manga in my art style, (also a lot of techniques that i picked up when I was learning how to draw characters come from how to draw manga/anime books, that i still use to this day). A lot of it just comes from experimenting with what tools I have at hand (and when you work digitally you have a Lot of tools). Occasionally if there's an artist who I really like the work of I'll spend some time in a sketchbook trying to emulate their style and I'll learn something neat I can then add to the proverbial Toolbox. Either that or I learn that just because I like to look at something, doesn't mean I enjoy making art that way.

As for feedback and improving, going to college was where most of that happened for me. College was a really mixed bag, but I was and am super lucky to have had a handful of professors who really Got what I was doing and gave me genuine mentorship as well as honest, sometimes harsh critique when I needed it. Taking a figure drawing class also helped me improve soooooo much

Granted I also had at least one professor who made me want to quit doing art entirely for a couple terms, and I kind of got better/started making art that was more What I Wanted To Be Making out of total spite.

I hope any of that is coherent or helpful, and honestly if having a range of styles you like to work in is fun for you theres no reason not to make it- theres no need to narrow yourself into one distinct style if you dont feel like it.

[marshmallowgoop]

2023 AMV Review

[2022]

After posting my first DaVinci Resolve AMV in April 2022, video editing quickly became one of my favorite hobbies, and this new life development actively characterized my 2023. Be it working on a project to mix the HD, remastered footage of Detective Conan with the old FUNimation English dub or piecing together AMVs, much of my free time throughout the year was devoted to video editing.

A broken computer for several weeks in the summer meant that I couldn't edit as many videos as I would have wanted, but I still progressed and learned a lot. I mixed 70 episodes of HD English dub, I made a YouTube channel, I participated in video collaborations (3! Here, here, and here!), and I tried so many new things as an editor, including but not limited to:

🎬 Glitching VHS effects (seen in "Mohan Kaitou" and "Poison Tree" above, and helped by my acquisition of a VCR, which allowed me to digitize my Detective Conan VHS tapes)

🎬 Karaoke subtitle files that can be toggled on and off on YouTube, created with the help of YTSubConverter (Would anyone be interested in a process post?)

🎬 3D camera typography (the "so alone" in "Corridors of Time")

🎬Follower text (the "we'd never known" in "Corridors of Time")

🎬 Solid color transitions ("I Wish That I Could Tell You")

🎬 Circle animations ("Corridors of Time")

🎬 Masked transitions ("Mohan Kaitou," "Poison Tree")

🎬 Eye zoom transitions ("Mohan Kaitou," "Child," "Monsters," "Poison Tree")

🎬 Ink splats ("Corridors of Time," "Head Above Water")

🎬 Selective red coloring ("Poison Tree")

🎬 More thoughtful compositions, and fudging sizing and placement for compositional reasons (the handkerchief transition in "Child," the movement of the scenes behind Ran in "Monsters," the liquid flowing in "Poison Tree")

🎬Changing the color of something (the red eyes in "Poison Tree")

🎬 Static masks ("Poison Tree")

🎬 Masking out objects (any [adult swim] logos from VHS footage that didn't come from my Japanese VHS tapes in "Poison Tree")

🎬And though it's not depicted in the snippet above, a CRT and curved TV screen effect for the TV at the end of the full "Poison Tree"

While I was only able to complete 9 AMVs (and the "Messed Up" AMV sadly isn't included in the snippets above, as it remains incomplete), I'm so excited to make more in 2024 with all the new tools in my toolbox!