#easy process

[katsinspats]

Thematically appropriate comic for Make a Terrible Comic Day!!

I saw the original post this morning and it made me get out of bed to make something, so thank u Pseudonym Jones mission accomplished

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

I guess I need to go back and reframe it as a cœlled shot

[remxedmoon]

see?

everything’s fine.

(greyscale + extras below!!)

so! this was SUPPOSED to be a bonnie drawing. but for some reason i just Can’t draw bonnie to save my life today. and i needed to draw something simple to make myself less frustrated!! and by simple i mean this took me almost 3 hours and i had to redraw it because i didn’t like how the lineart turned out the first time!! oops!! at least it turned out cute🩶. and i got to play around with my textured brush!

also as a bonus, my terrible first attempt + the sketch!! that i apparently accidentally deleted at some point? so this is a screenshot from the timelapse. i dont know what happened to it…

[thebestucollegeadmissions]

The Secrets to a Smooth Application & Essay Process

It’s late May – while students are wrapping up testing, facing finals, or dreaming of the summer sun, the first college applications of the season will be submitted in just 10 weeks. This doesn’t mean it’s time to panic, but it does mean that a successful college essay & application process begins now.

Read on for our best advice for rising seniors to shape a smooth, low-stress, and successful college application process –

1. The process begins when school winds down.

The first mistake or better said, missed opportunity, for many students and families is thinking that college applications are a senior year or Fall responsibility. The strongest applications, and the high school seniors who have the most stress-free experiences at school and at home all have one thing in common: they start the application process early, and take advantage of the summer months. Without the academic demands of the school year and its routine, students have more capacity to do the big thinking that writing a personal statement essay requires, they have the bandwidth to chip away at application pieces, and the chance to release the tension and anxiety of what lies ahead by facing the process head on. Every rising senior will surely have other commitments, travel and fun built into the summer, so taking an honest look at the weeks of summer to plan out what you will accomplish when is extremely helpful.

2. Get started, even if your college list is not quite complete.

There are pieces of the application process that are dependent upon the specific colleges you are applying to, and there are pieces that will be universal to most or all colleges. It’s a great approach to begin with the personal statement essay, the activities list, and understanding what will be required on the Common App, UC application, or other individual college applications to plan the scope of your work. Even if you haven’t locked in 100% of the colleges you will apply to, there is no reason to wait on crafting the pieces that will be central to your applications across many colleges.

3. Know your deadlines.

This is huge: organize all of your deadlines, requirements, and application pieces in one place. Keep a timeline of when you will submit each application, what essays you will write (write the optional essays, almost always!), and what other components will need to be sent off to have a complete application. It is important to know that you are best served by submitting applications as soon as you are able to submit your strongest work to colleges that review applications on a rolling basis. This will include both “rolling admission” colleges, as well as those that will not notify you earlier, but will review your application when it is received. Colleges like UT Austin and U of Wisconsin Madison will review those applications as they receive them, and they are inundated with out of state applications. Submitting your application in August can be an important advantage in your admissions process.

4. Begin with the end in mind.

Beyond the deadlines you need to meet, when do you want to be done with application work? That’s right, you are in control! At TBU, we encourage all students to complete their first applications before returning to school for senior year, and to complete 100% of their application work by Thanksgiving. We have a firm deadline of closing out application work by December 15th every year for all of our students. The reason for this? Your life is much bigger than your application process! There is nothing worse than having deadlines looming over family holiday gatherings and winter break. Students do their best work when they start early, leave a manageable amount of tasks to complete once the school year starts, and complete all of their essay writing and preparation before receiving early decision news in December. In addition, we want you to have the ability to step away from this process, give your all to your senior academics (those grades matter in admissions, by the way!) and live your life with your friends and family, enjoying your time in senior year.

5. Talk honestly about student and parent roles & what will set you up for success.

If you haven’t yet, May is the time to have a conversation about what roles parents will and will not play in the essay and application process. Meeting deadlines and agreeing on the content of essays are two of the places that rising seniors and their parents often encounter the most conflict and tension. For many families, it works best to let parents be parents, and identify another trusted adult or professional to support students with essay development and review, or planning their application timeline. Admissions officers are adept at reading through when parents’ voices or editing have been heavy handed in the application process, so be very mindful of ensuring that every piece of the application reads clearly as a student’s own work and voice.

TBU Essay & Application specialists are experts at supporting students to craft their most compelling, authentic work, taking the pressure off of parents playing this role. If you’d like to explore working with a TBU Essay & Application specialist, now is the time. Get in touch here and we will look forward to connecting with you.

Looking for more insights like these? Join us on our Membership Platform for exclusive content, live webinars, and the resources and tools to unstick your college process.

[zarnzarn]

Athena shoots upright as soon as her eyes fly open, gasping. She calls on her spear and slashes in a brutal curve, provoking shouts from the enemies who'd been holding her down as they back off. Bares her teeth in a snarl as she grabs the sheets off the bed to whip at the eyes of the assailants and-

Light floods into her eyes as they step away from her attack and she freezes as she remembers a flash of brightness too fast to escape, heat and burning like never before, electricity that seeped into her very bones, thunder that deafened, lightning that hurt-

"Get back!" She hears and turns unsteadily back to- back to where Apollo is pulling Ares back by the cape against the far wall. Apollo. Ares. Aphrodite, Aephestus, Artemis.

"Wh-" She manages, before she's bowled over, coughing. She has never done it before, and she can't stop it from happening- chest rattling as her knees give out, barely holding herself up with her spear in time to reach the bed. It doesn't stop, doesn't stop, plumes of smoke escaping her mouth as she can't stop, can't breathe-

"Athena," Hera whispers, and a rough hand gently touches her on the shoulder, handing her a glass of nectar. She accepts it gratefully, tilting her head back to down it. It's soothing like it's never been before, stoping the coughing at last and it clears her headache long enough to realize that she isn't in her armour- she's in a chiton.

"Where is my armour?" She rasps as soon as she can, wiping her mouth. Looks around- Apollo's chambers.

She'd always known being the favourite wouldn't protect her forever. But repeating the words didn't seem to reduce the hurt.

Nor the shaking fear.

"-not!" Apollo is saying, indignantly setting his hands on his hips. "Do you have any idea how hard you got hit? You're lucky I could even stabilize your aspect enough to reduce some of the damage, otherwise you'd still be having a seizure back at Mount Olympus!"

"Mount Olympus," Athena mutters oddly, without much intent to it. She tries to stand again and her vision suddenly cuts out, provoking a round of screams as she loses her balance.

When the world blurrily comes back into focus- and she doesn't like this, hates this sudden weakness; she's always been able to get back up from any blow, has never visited a medical chamber in her existence, even when they had to fight the Titans- she's in Ares' arms, oddly horizontal.

"Cease this stupidity, sister," Artemis hisses at her as she grabs onto Athena's arms to bring her back to the bed. "Calm yourself. You are alive. You are safe."

"My armour," Athena says, voice cracking, head rolling oddly on her neck, unable to look upright. She catches a glimpse of Aephastus holding onto a sobbing Aphrodite, staring at her with a strange sort of sorrow.

Something twinges in Athena's chest in reply, but she stumbles before she can address it, feeling a fission of panic at the instability before Ares' grip on her tightens enough to keep her upright. They're all staring at her like that, she realizes, with that same horrified heartbreak.

"Didn't Artemis just tell you to cease stupidity?" Ares barks, though it's rather quietly said, for him. He adjusts her on the bed until she can lean back against the pillows. His hands are shaking, and Athena stares at them with curiosity. "Weren't you the one to lecture me half to death about when to remove the armour?"

"What," She says weakly, then moans as an aftershock trembles through her, residual sparks humming maliciously as they exit her skin, leaving her trembling. "I- hmmm, what? What were- what were-"

"Athena, calm down, please, you're scaring us," Hera says, bangles jangling as she sits down next to her, taking one of Athena's hands with desperation. Athena tilts her head to squint, noticing the tears for the first time, before she shudders as her skin registers the heat, the unbearable heat.

"Scaring?" She murmurs when it stops, voice coming out smaller than she intended it to.

"Her fever keeps rising and falling," Apollo reenters the room before anyone can answer, carrying a large tub of some odd liquid. "Here, help me rub this on her skin, it should extract any remaining- any remaining lightning."

They all move towards the tub at the same time, dipping the cloths provided and then taking positions in a circle surrounding her. Athena stiffens, fingers twitching for a weapon, but the first touch of Hera's drenched cloth on her forehead makes her moan in relief, the blessed coolness of it making her melt back into the sheets. She has no strength to complain or protest when her fellow gods each take a limb to rub at, a sensation both horrifically terrible and unbearably good. She has never taken her armour off in her life.

"Easy, that's it," Apollo says coaxingly, lips downturned like he's trying not to cry. She whimpers as the cloth on her left leg suddenly burns as a spark escapes, instinctively pulling it away, but Aphrodite grabs it before she can and resumes rubbing, whispering apologies. She turns her head and weakly opens her mouth for the herb Apollo lifts to her lips, desperate for relief from the splitting headache.

She can't think. She can't think.

Athena has no idea how long it goes on, how long the other gods ignore their realms to tend to her. Slowly, they strike up a conversation, something light-hearted that she can't follow- different from their never-ending arguments and insults, as they talk about the past year and humourous stories and varied anecdotes.

Athena can't help but relax into it, the soft bed at her back and gentle hands massaging her sore muscles and warmth all around her. Feels something trembling within her since she first became aware of herself settling down with a sigh.

Until she suddenly smells ozone.

Hera and Apollo both notice her tensing up immediately, and look to where she can hear slow footsteps approaching. Apollo growls and shoots out a hand, bringing up the shields of his realm.

The conversation dies down as they all look to the side, at the distinct shadow at the other side of the curtain.

Rage, Athena realises, thoughts slow and muddied. They're angry with him.

"I will handle this," Hera says coldly, with the steel undertone that Athena strives for. She moves her cloth aside and leans down to kiss Athena on the forehead, like a mother would. "You rest, my daughter."

Athena's breath hitches, eyes burning. Nobody has ever cared for her, apart from Zeu-

Nobody has ever cared for her.

... Nobody has-

Hera turns sharply at the noise that suddenly escapes Athena, half hysterical laugh and half distraught wail.

"Did I win?" Athena asks desperately, pushing herself upright, ignoring the protests of the others as she pulls her limbs from their grasp. Hera stares at her and Athena grabs the side of the bed as she tries to lever herself up like a wild animal, demanding in a broken voice, "Did I win?"

A silence that stretches for a painful moment before- "Yes," Aephastus says, putting his hand on her shoulder to guide her back from the edge. "Yes, Athena, you won."

A strangled gasp of relief leaves her, making her light-headed as she leans back against the pillows. She shivers, then sobs- humiliation running through her before she hears an answering noise of sorrow from Aphrodite next to her, pressure all around as her five younger siblings embrace her carefully, gently, like she would break at any moment.

She's not the one who's been raped by a Titan's daughter for seven years.

The thought has her breath hitching, wiping her tears away with a hand that refuses to co-operate the first few tries. "I need to-"

"No," Artemis snaps, glaring at her. "I know you think of nothing but your work, but Athena, you cannot do it this time." Outside, Hera's and Zeus' voices rise as they begin to shout and scream. "You must rest."

"N-no, that's not- aah," She groans as another aftershock rips through her, leaving her panting and soaked in sweat when it's done. "I need to- I need-"

"Hermes has gone to his grandson," Aephastus says soothingly. "Peace, Athena. Your hero is free."

For a moment, it doesn't comprehend and she stares at him blankly. "Free," She repeats, words still infuriatingly faint and lilting. "He's free? I- I need my helmet, where is-"

"No, Athena!"

"Sister, please, you cannot resume your duties, you are in no state!"

"I need my helmet, please, please- just give me my helmet!"

Her cry echoes off the walls and she hears herself when it bounces back to her, broken and pleading and so unlike her she feels nauseous. Her siblings have gone silent and still at her begging, staring at her with shock and horror and fear and sorrow alike. Even Zeus and Hera have stopped talking.

Athena shakes, wishing she could rip this awful vulnerability out of her veins, wishes she could find a stone footing to stand on once more, wishes she wasn't in this horrible chiton.

"Please," She whispers.

Quietly, Aephastus gets to his feet and walks in the direction of the nearby drawers, where she can now see her belongings stacked up haphazardly, blood-stained.

"Sister, you must calm down," Aphrodite pleads. She takes her hands and Athena dazedly looks down at her, with her wide, scared eyes. Seizure, her mind registers finally from Apollo's earlier talk. Ah. She seems to have frightened them all. "You cannot afford a relapse."

Athena squeezes her fingers in acknowledgement, but reaches for the helmet when it's held out, dented and worn.

She touches the metal and feels the full force of seven years of silenced prayers hit her at once.

She's crying before she knows she's doing it, clutching the helmet to her chest as the warmth of the worship wraps around her like a shawl, and holds it tight against her as Ares tries to pry it away.

"No, no!" Apollo intervenes, shifting forward. He touches a hand to the helmet and suddenly the hymn bursts forth around them, loud even though the prayer itself is quiet and broken. Athena inhales at the feeling of it, soothing over the cracks in her own mind with their never-ending continuity, desolate, unbroken faith even when she never came to help-

He's still singing.

She shifts her hands on the helmet to make sure but- yes. Odysseus is calling her, still, at this very moment.

Her head snaps up, but even the dizziness the motion causes doesn't take away from how much clearer the room looks. "Where is he?"

"Sister-"

"If you do not answer me, I will take to the skies myself," She says firmly. "Where is he?"

Her siblings exchange looks.

"Three days out from Ithaka," Artemis replies with a sigh. "On a raft. But listen, wait but an hour, at least absorb these prayers-"

Athena stumbles off the bed and pulls on the helmet, closing her eyes.

"Wait, the bandages-!"

"Athena, you'll hurt yourself, please!"

"Daughter, be careful!"

Athena opens her eyes and looks out at the waves, rough and choppy, but not enough to sink the raft. She looks down and looks at the way the faded clothes don't fit him, the way he has no water left to drink but he still continues to sing.

"Odysseus," She says, and he freezes.

A wave rises and falls. They stay silent, unmoving.

"Won't you look?" The words break out of her, cracked and desperate.

He inhales and exhales, tears in the sound of it. "I don't want to look if you're... if you're not really here."

She swallows against the lump in her throat, takes a step forward. "Well, I-" Her voice cracks, but the fragile grin on her face is real as it spreads, the frailest thread of laughter entering her voice. "I would hope. That if you were hallucinating of me, that the spectre would at least have wisdom enough to tell you that you were."

Odysseus sobs and her heart cracks, feels his heart cracking in turn; yet it is akin to a misaligned bone that never healed right and has to be reset- she can hear the laughter before it comes, with relief coming from the brink of madness, with joy they'd both forgotten and missed. "It is you."

"I could not reach you on Ogygia," She blurts out, desperate to make him understand. "Could not hear your call. I would have come the second time you prayed, if I had."

"It is you," He whispers, swaying. A wave rises suddenly and they both burst into movement, grabbing ropes and pulling the mast, balancing together to keep it steady.

The wave passes. They are almost touching now.

"Won't you look?" Athena asks again, raw and grieving. "Odysseus. My companion, my friend. Please."

He turns at that, a stunned expression on his face- before it turns into wide-eyed horror as he looks at her. She laughs breathlessly, slightly dizzy, but- her friend. How lovely it is to see him again.

"Athena!" He rushes forward with unexpected vitality, the parts of him that she knew suddenly rising to light in his eyes, in his movements, becoming unhidden from the defeated, beaten figure he'd been moments before. "What in Gaia's name-"

"I'm sorry," She interrupts as she slumps forward into the hands on her arms, off-balance. "I should have tried better to understand, all those years ago. I understand now and I- Odysseus, I am-"

"Athena, shut up," Odysseus snaps, clearly panicking. She laughs again, because isn't it such a novelty, to have a person who will have the audacity to tell her to? "Of course it's forgiven, I'm sorry too, I should have fucking listened back then- but listen, what in Hades happened to you? Why do you look like this- why do you have bandages- Hermes wouldn't answer when I asked if something happened to you, fuck-"

"Peace," Athena rasps, even as her vision blinks in and out, forcing her to kneel. They both grimace as another wave crashes into the raft, but they don't upturn. Odysseus kneels down with her, staring at her with such worry and concern she can feel nothing but fondness. "The disagreements of gods are often violent."

"Gods-" His eyes flicker to the side of her face, and he frowns, reaching out to push back the helmet. She bends her face down to let him, feeling an odd burning on the left side that she has a vague bad feeling about- proved right when Odysseus' expression falls into blank horror. "You got into a fight with-"

"Yes."

"But he's your-"

"I know. He did not take kindly to my petition to release you," She smiles dryly, without mirth.

"To release me?" Odysseus wheezes, face cracking into anguish and disbelief alike. "Athena, what- I- I'm not worth-"

"It was worth it," She snaps. "Consider it my penance for abandoning my own. I certainly don't regret it."

"I never felt abandoned," Odysseus whispers, taking her hands as she shifts, supporting her body with his own as they lean against the mast. She looks at him, and remembers why Penelope is still weaving, why he's still out on the waters, why Ithaka is waiting out the suitors till Telemachus takes the throne. "I always knew you would come back. I just figured it would take ten years more, perhaps."

Athena is silent for a bit, absorbing that. And then, because she can't hold it back any longer- "I am sorry about your men." His breath hitches under her and she turns to take him in her arms, knowing what's coming. "I am sorry about your friends."

He sobs, ugly and loud, and she holds him tighter. "I am sorry that Titan's whelp had you for so long, and what she did to you. I am sorry the Fates were so unkind."

"Athena," He keens, finally falling to pieces. The sobs are mere loud gasps for air at first, before it dissolves into wailing, screaming, grieving for all the men they'd kept alive through a war, only to lose them to this cruel tragedy instead. Even she hadn't known- hadn't anticipated how wrong things would go after she left. Hadn't even thought that he hadn't reached home.

"It's all my fucking fault," He shouts, shaking. "If only I had- if only-"

"It is not. No one could have known," She whispers. "The Fates are unknown to us all."

He sobs louder and she closes her eyes.

But finally, their tears dry up. She holds him still, as the night fades and the sun rises again, trying to take his hurt into herself so he can be happy again.

"I am sorry," She whispers, seaspray around them. "That my enemies became your own. That I pushed you so hard. That I chose you, and brought pain to your life so."

"Hey now," Odysseus says, pulling back to look at her, a broken smile on his face. "Hold your blasphemous tongue, before you insult the wisdom of Pallas Athena." She laughs, even as tears spill over. "Even if I had the chance to choose again right at this moment, my goddess, I would still choose you."

"That means more than you know," Athena murmurs, overcome. She gathers all her strength and reaches out to run a hand over his head, soothing his mind and driving away the last tendrils of madness that were still holding onto him. He sighs and relaxes under her, some visible weight lifting from his shoulders. "Still. I will learn from my mistakes. If you would give your old friend a chance-"

"Stop right there. Of course I-" Odysseus scoffs, reaching out to hold her left cheek for emphasis. "Athena, your left eye is half gone."

"Ah. Well, that explains the depth perception," She mutters, then bursts into giggles at the incredulous look on his face.

"Are you drugged?" Odysseus demands, but he's already trying not to laugh himself. They both move on fast. "What am I saying, of course you are- have you been drugged this whole time? Who on Earth drugged you?"

"That would be me," Apollo says, crossing his arms.

Odysseus snarls, grabbing his sword and swinging wildly in an arc, half-animal in his panic, pushing Athena behind him.

"FUCKING- whoa, hey, calm down, it's her brother, it's Apollo!" Apollo half-shrieks inelegantly, jumping back. "Honestly! Athena, call off your hero, please."

"Apollo?" Odysseus tilts his head, lowering his sword and narrowing his eyes.

Apollo stares at him. "Wow, you two- really do act the exact same, huh. Yes, Apollo, god of please let me change your fucking bandages, do you mind?"

Odysseus bows and murmurs apologies, clearly wary of getting into more trouble, but to her mild surprise walks behind Athena instead of to the other side of the raft.

"I don't need assistance," She mutters to him, even as she grimaces at the length of the chiton as she tries to pull herself upright.

"You're still dizzy," Odysseus points out, settling in behind her to hold her steady. He wipes at the tears still on his face and smiles at her. She manages a half-smile back. "Do you need to go back to Olympus?"

"Yes," Artemis crosses her hands and Odysseus' fingers tighten painfully on her shoulders.

"I'm not quite certain there's space for so many on this raft," Athena mutters.

"It's a magical raft, it'll survive- but never mind that, could you not have at least sent a message that you were okay?"

"Well, maybe you should have thought of that before running off without a word!"

"Really, daughter, you should know better!"

Odysseus grip is bruising now, and his sword is in front of Athena protectively; she can already tell what moves he's planning to use if they choose to attack. "Who..?" He asks lowly.

"Pantheon. At ease," She replies back shortly, before looking up at the others. "I thank you, my fellow go- my family, for your worry and concern. But we are only two days out from Ithaka and I would like to see this journey completed."

"You are not going to see yourself completed, if you don't rest," Apollo says, roughly at the exact same time that Athena undermines her own argument by throwing up on the raft.

"Athena, go," Odysseus says urgently when it's over, handing her helmet back to her and adjusting her cape as Hera kneels down beside her to hand her another glass of nectar, looking at him oddly. Odysseus grimaces and changes his tone. "I will be fine, patroness. I'll call for you when I reach the shores."

Movement catches her eye and she sees Ares remove his own helmet, giving her a reproving look. She remembers the speech he was talking about now- the one she'd loudly ranted at him when she was drunk a year ago, thinks about how much more at ease he is now.

"Alright," She acquiesces and everyone breathes a sigh of relief. "Two days."

Mania fills Odysseus' eyes as he smiles back, finally home from a war twenty years ago. "Two days."

Athena grins, even as she feels Hera wrap an arm around her to take her away. "Penelope is waiting."

Odysseus' eyes widen, then fill with tears, like he'd never quite truly let himself believe it; but his smile is wide and true. "Penelope is waiting. Thank you, Pallas Athena."

"You don't thank friends," She murmurs, exhaustion settling in. Odysseus laughs and the last thing she feels is a warm hand on her cheek and their foreheads pressed together, before the world goes black and she knows no more.

[techminsolutions]

ONE PERSONAL LOAN FOR ALL YOUR NEEDS - INTRODUCING INCRED

If you’re in need of a personal loan, you might be wondering where to turn. There are so many lenders out there, it can be overwhelming. But have you heard of InCred? This lender offers personal loans ranging from ₹3 lakhs to ₹8 lakhs, with a starting interest rate as low as 16% per annum. Let’s take a closer look at what InCred has to offer. EASY APPLICATION PROCESS One of the top benefits of…

[bogkeep]

there's something so deeply dystopian to me how tech companies don't understand that a forced convenience is not a convenience at all. i'm sure autocorrect is helpful for many, but a function that forcibly changes my actual written words and punctuation is taking away my language. photo filters can be nice but i need to choose using them myself or else i have lost the ability to take the picture i want. i don't want a machine to draw or write for me. taking away the option for me to do things manually feels like violence!!!! all this talk of endless opportunity, why are you RESTRICTING me

[annasofthe11thdimension]

Pictured: Loop being extremely normal as they lay in their shallow (homemade) grave as they meditate on existence and also if they have annoyed the Researcher enough THIS time for her to murder them and bury them alive.

(Spoilers - they did not annoy her even CLOSE to that much.)

And there is the required reverse image of Odile arriving - she's had a LONG day (i.e. previous loop), and due to this it will take ten minutes before she even acknowledges the shallow grave Loop is laying in, as she was distracted complaining about what Siffrin just did to annoy her.

----

I'd say there's context for all of that, because like...there IS context? Here's the link to the series of fics that HAS that context even! But also...even with context...can't say that it's going to make any of this less weird.

Mostly Odile is looping because due to Loop's wish the universe got rewritten to make Siffrin's repression and emotional issues (the ones bad enough to get him stuck in a time loop in the game) 'someone else's' problem...or at least that's Loop's best theory atm!

Regardless, context or not, I'm quite happy with how the pics came out, and figured I might as well post them here too.

[velichorus-k]

The second installment of this comic right here. In which the gang hangs out :) pages under the cut!

[canisalbus]

do you pencil traditionally and then colour digitally, or do you just have a very convincing digital pencil brush? I really love the organic, sketchy feel of your work.

I always sketch and ink on paper first, then scan the piece and color it digitally.

[tinfoil-jones]

Jerk Ford AU: From the Trenches

One night on the deck of the Stan O'War-II

Stan: Sure is a nice night, huh Poindexter?

Stanford: I buried myself once.

Stan: —...

Stanford: Another version of me. He was already long dead when his distress signal pinged me, and I buried him after looting his corpse. *Thousand yard stare*

Stan: Stanford—

Stanford: And I kept thinking; is that going to be me?

Stan: Stanford—

Stanford: *crying* Am I going to die out here? Am I never going to get home and get buried in some random dimension where no one I know or love is—?

Stan: Stanford! Hey, hey— look at me. You're here now. You made it home. You made it.

[rottmnt-residuum]

Part 6 of Arc II (Part 32)

the elevator music is kokomo btw sksksk

⇇ | ⇽ | index | ⇾ (censored) | ⇾ (gore)

[sunburstsandmoonshadows]

it remains extremely funny to me that freddie wong accidentally (?) made Dan Fucks, embodiment of pleasure, so distinctly ace-coded. like, Dan talks a big game about sex and seems to view it as interesting and desirable, but when presented with such an obvious in for it he completely ignored Avaricci's come-ons to just talk about non-sexual pleasures like goddamn cold pillows. he's not paying attention to sex at all when it's not personally convenient or expected of him to do so.

100% Elias is ace and just doesn't realize people genuinely crave sex and it's not a metaphor or exaggeration like it is for him yet. bless him.

[signanothername]

it might be an awkward question but-

HOW DO YOU MANAGE TO DRAW SO MUCH?? how do you get so many beautiful ideas? how do you keep yourself motivated? tell me your secret I will sell you my soul

🩵 🫴 take it.

Why thank you 🫳🩵

Ah the question ever

Truthful and simple answer is that there’s no secret

This might seem contradictory considering how much I post, but I genuinely am not as motivated or as inspired as I seem to be

I struggle a lot with ideas and motivation and that is a problem I have on a daily basis that’s been happening for years (I have SO many wips that I never shared)

It’s not about the struggle, it’s about how I curated my art to that struggle

I’m at a constant threat to experience burnout (certified chronic pain and chronic fatigue haver), so to combat that, I take measures to make sure I don’t burn myself out and actually reserve the very little energy I have to continue doing artworks/comics

To give you a specific example, if you notice with my comics, they’re always sketchy and are never colored, that’s not because I don’t want to make colored comics, but because of knowledge from previous experiences that if I actually forced myself to make colored comics, I’d immediately plunge to burnout and would probably not be able to draw for a few weeks after because of it (in fact the last time I made a colored comic was here, which is a rare occasion even then btw, and that comic caused me to experience a near burnout)

Which was extremely frustrating to me at some point might I add, because before 2021, I had no problem making so many colored comics and artworks at a short span of time, I actually had motivation before (something that is lost to me now), so you can imagine how genuinely frustrating it is, it even made me feel like I’m not a “real” artist

(The concept of what is considered a “real artist” is bullshit btw, someone who draws stickmen everyday is as much of a real artist as someone who makes diverse fully colored artworks with backgrounds and everything, as long as you use your creativity and turn it to something meaningful, you’re already a real artist, regardless of skill or the extent of which you are able to conceive with your art)

That being said, it’s all about finding your own footing and workflow, what works best for you? What doesn’t?

Some things that you’d love for them to work (in my case making colored comics) might not work in reality, life is disappointing like that, so it’s also about acceptance

Acceptance of yourself as you are, maybe it’s not what you truly strive for, maybe you wish you could do more, but sometimes taking a step back and looking into yourself to see if you can actually achieve what you want with the resources you have could be life saving

So when it comes to motivation? Find your workflow, what are the things that you know could make you lose your motivation? On the other hand, what are the things that preserve your motivation?

Not only that, but time management is also a contributing factor

Of course, my own way to preserve my motivation/energy is as follows:

1- never force myself to finish artworks/comics if I feel like I can’t (even if I really really want to), I save them up for later when my motivation for them kicks back in

2-let perfectionism go, if I keep fretting over whether every line in an artwork looks good I’ll never accomplish anything but destroy my mental health (certified perfectionist speaking btw)

3-comics stay as sketches, as much as I want to make beautifully colored comics, I know this will only contribute to my burnout, so keeping it real with myself and what I can accomplish with my own resources (energy, time, health, etc) is important

4-making multiple sketches in a day then choosing what fancies my brain that day, or getting back to older sketches I already made before (sometimes months before) to see if my brain has the itch to work on any of them, by doing that, then I’m giving myself actual diversity in choices to choose from, which helps me feel like I don’t have to be forced to work on anything new, or something that I don’t wanna work on

For clarification, I’m talking actual sketches, not cleaned up ones, if you make clean sketches you won’t be able to make multiple ones in the same day

Here’s an example of what I mean by sketches

5-stop beating myself up over things I can’t control, if I keep being harsh on myself over the fact I couldn’t finish an artwork or the fact I’m not satisfied with it, it’ll only contribute to make me feel bad about myself and that would only contribute to me losing even more motivation which contributes to beating myself up and so the self torture cycle goes on, myself deserves to be pat on the back gently and be told “it’s ok, you’ll get there in time”

6-teach myself that it’s ok to lose motivation, there are times in which I do not open my art app for weeks, instead of hating myself for it, I tell myself “you need time, you’re tired and you need the break”, and it’s true, if you lost motivation, it’s most likely due to something else contributing to it

So i just ask myself what’s up, sometimes, I’m overworked in other life aspects, other times I’m in too much pain, so instead of forcing myself through my demotivation, I take care of these factors demotivating me so I’d feel comfortable enough to be able to work on artworks again

If I couldn’t identify a factor contributing to my loss of motivation, then I take it as my own brain telling me that it needs the break, it needs the dopamine if doing something different and I do that, whether by watching my favorite shows, playing my favorite games, trying a different hobby like writing or reading, etc

7- work on my own time, sometimes I do finish artworks quickly, and I do have the capacity to do so, but I’ve noticed that my loss of motivation became less of an issue when I gave myself the actual time to work on artworks, sometimes, a simple artwork that I could finish in 20 minutes takes me weeks to finish, not because I can’t finish it earlier, but because I intentionally worked slowly on it as I’m working on other artworks just as slow, that way, I don’t overwhelm myself and I’m making progress on multiple artworks/comics at the same time, and seeing such progress gives me even more motivation

Cough, anyway, got lost in talking about motivation ghcchch

As for your other question about how I get my ideas, it’s usually something I saw that inspired me, whether an artwork, something irl, etc

Or even sometimes, my own artworks inspire ideas for comics, so I’d draw something, then ask myself (asking yourself questions is such a great helper when it comes to coming up with ideas) why is the character doing this? How did they get there? Etc

That helps me come up with answers which are then answered via comics or multiple different artworks

For example, this comic, what inspired it was me asking myself one simple question, “what would happen if Murder actually asked Nightmare for a visit home for once, instead of running away like he always does?”, and that immediately got me to work on the comic

Of course, it doesn’t mean I always am on the ready for an idea, in fact, a lot of the time my mind is blank, nothing up there to help me, which is why I turn to mindlessly sketching sometimes

I just open a canvas and start sketching, what? I don’t know, I’m just gonna sketch something, could be a character, environment, scribbles, meaningless lines etc, it’s my iwn version of a warm up, and it helps a lot with making my brain get into the zone

That’s all I can think of off the top of my head

Enjoy a look into my brain chhcchch

[mildmayfoxe]

birdie

[pallanophblargh]

Another desperate strike at the art block and a tribute of sorts: super rusty linocut to reinitiate me into the world of printmaking. It’s not as attuned to my working style as intaglio was, but this is fun, tactile, and enough of a departure from my way of thinking that is super welcome.

It’s nothing special and definitely technically lacking (over-inked block and such) but it’s something, which is a big deal lately. Also it’s my favorite species of fish and we all know Kuhli loaches deserve all the tributes we can give.