#greyscale coloring is my new best friend

[hyukaroki]

i heart gay ppl!

[freyyzu]

FIVE

a kiss for every part of you i adore. the problem is, i adore every part of you.

a/n; i'm struggling so bad with the wedding fanfic. my best friend is just watching me descend into insanity rewriting the prologue for the fourth time. i just needed to make something short and cute to fix that o(╥﹏╥)o mild (??? bland???) nsfw on number 3. i've never written nsfw before, please go easy on me. post step 4.

update after finishing; this was not as short as i intended it to be.

5. EYES.

Black and white were considered Baxter's staple colors. From his clothes, to his phone case, to his car, you could list countless more items off the top of your head that all shared those monotone hues.

Really, it'd be easier to list the items he owned that weren't greyscale.

In particular, one comes to mind—two, to be more precise. Would saying he owned them be correct? You assume so. They were a part of his person, after all.

A dark brown—they shine as bright as embers from a fire burning too hot. If you stared at them long enough you would burn, but that was a risk you were willing to take. Anything, if it meant being able to get lost within them for even a moment longer.

"Good morning," you whisper, sweeping your hand across his bangs. The strands of hair fall back into place defiantly over his eyes, much to your dismay.

They're not in their signature side-swept look; they never are in the mornings. Locks of ashy grey stick out from all corners. It splays over the pillow in some sort of abstract art, a few of the longer pieces jutting outwards to tickle your cheek.

Baxter groans, rubbing at his eyes, though only one manages to beat the morning bleariness in order to look at you. Even through the dim glow of sunlight that sneaks through the cracks of the curtains, it shines.

"Good morning," he mumbles, barely audible and coherent.

You chuckle at the sound of his voice. He might be awake now, but he wasn't quite awake just yet. The clock had yet to even strike nine.

Once more, you reach up to his hair. Instead of sweeping away his bangs, this time you push it up past his forehead.

He hums at the feeling of your hand on his skin and smiles, opting to close the one eye he'd manage to pry open before.

Such a baby, you idly think before leaning forward to press your lips onto his eyelid. His hand on your waist tightens at the contact, and you move to give the other the same treatment.

This time, both pools of endless brown open to gaze directly at you. His smile grows wider by the second, and you think that maybe, just maybe, you've found a new, sure-fire method to waking him up.

4. EARS.

There's a quirk you've noticed about Baxter that you hadn't realized before.

No, that's not exactly right. You've noticed it. The problem is it just hadn't happen enough for your suspicions to be confirmed.

You recall seeing it once. The most notable occasion being the day of Jude and Scott's wedding; when the two of you had finally reunited, made your amends, and cleared the air of five years worth of regrets.

He was so happy then his cheeks flushed a vibrant shade of coral pink all the way to the tips of his ears. And as he couldn't believe what he was hearing, his ears had twitched. It reminded you much of a kitten.

For a long while, you wondered if you'd ever see that again, and by some form of pure luck, today you did.

It was still early in the morning, or at least what Baxter would consider early. Even though he didn't need to go to the office today for work, he still had some business to take care of. The sounds of his fingers tapping against the keys of his laptop were the only noise to break through the silence of your shared apartment for the last half an hour.

In the meantime, you busied yourself in the kitchen to make breakfast (brunch is more accurate), having that morning free of any other duties.

"Baxter, breakfast is ready," you call, setting the last plate on the table.

The tapping continues.

You huff amusedly. It was one of those days again—where he got too caught up with his work and blocked out all other distractions. Usually you'd let him finish and bring the occasional cup of coffee or tea and snacks to get him through the load, but having a proper meal to start the day was important.

Cleaning your hands on a towel you amble your way over behind him on the couch, catching a peek of some e-mail exchanges. That wasn't what you were here for, though.

Wrapping your arms loosely around his neck you lean in and manage to push yourself forward enough to peck his ear.

The action apparently catches him completely off-guard, and you feel him straighten in your hold, face going completely red—it continues to travel up past his cheeks. You barely have enough time to catch the tweak of his ears before he shoots up a hand to cover the one you kissed and spins around to face you, eyes wide.

"Ah—" You raise both of your arms up in surrender, suppressing a giggle at his flustered reaction. "I'm sorry. I called you for breakfast, but you were too concentrated on your laptop to hear me."

"Oh," he breathes. At least he didn't seem angry.

Far from it.

You offer him an apologetic smile anyways. "Shall we eat?"

"Yeah," he answers, a little too quickly. His eyes dart away from yours to close his laptop. You get the feeling he didn't need to look away to do that, but just wanted an excuse not meet your eyes right now. "Let's eat."

3. NECK.

Its a cool night this evening in SoCal, but you felt as if you were sitting right next to an open flame.

Lithe arms wrap around your bare waist, pulling you in close. Without the restrictive fabric of clothing separating you from each other, you could feel Baxter's heartbeat more distinctly than ever.

It's steady, if not a little fast.

The gentle motions of your fingers massaging his scalp help it from becoming erratic, but you can feel the spike every time you tug on his hair—feel the way his breath hitches against your exposed shoulders as you pull a little harder the next time. And again on the next, and the time after that.

Lips that you're used to tracing with your own press open-mouth kisses against the side of your neck, and you tilt your head to give him more access.

"Baxter," his name leaves your mouth as a breathless whisper. You can barely stifle the moan that threatens to escape as his fingers tighten their hold on you.

When your grip on his hair tightens, you hear his groan right beside your ear. Unlike you, he doesn't try to suppress it—you're not sure if you're thankful for that or not.

When he begins to press his thigh deeper between your legs you can't restrain your voice anymore.

"Baxter," you say inbetween gulps of air. Your hands move from his head to his shoulders, gently pushing him back to lean against the couch. "Wait."

"Is there something wrong?" His eyebrows crease in worry.

You shake your head with an unsteady laugh and use this time to catch your breath. "No, nothing's wrong. It's— it felt nice, really nice. I was just wondering if I could...?"

Your hands begin to roam again, finding their new homes against the nape of his neck and the flush of his cheeks. The end of your sentence doesn't hear the light of day, but Baxter knows exactly what you're trying to ask when your eyes dart to the mole decorating his neck.

"Oh?" He raises an eyebrow, frown morphing into a smirk. Even with his face bright red he would never miss a chance to tease you. Typical Baxter. "Please." He pulls you in by the shoulders until you can feel his breath once more against the lobe of your ear. His voice sends shivers down your spine. "Be my guest."

And so you oblige, pressing feather-light kisses first on his shoulder before trailing further up to his adam's apple and giving it the same treatment. You can feel it bob as he takes a large breath of air, followed by a pleased sigh. His fingers find purchase tangled in your hair, and you're acutely aware of how the roles have been reversed.

Finally, you make it to the area where his mole resides. Your hands follow your lips, one curling around his neck again to twirl strands of grey inbetween its fingers while the other traced the curve of his spine. He shudders beneath your touch.

In contrast to the gentle grazes you've given him thus far, your lips this time, nuzzle against his most sensitive spot with open mouth kisses, biting hard enough for a mark to form, but not to hurt.

"Mmn—!" he moans. His thigh jolts at the unexpected sensation, once more making contact between your legs. His hand pulls at your hair reactively, and you understand then, why he likes it so much.

"Payback for teasing me." You back away, thoroughly admiring your work, drinking in the sight of him beneath you.

Cheeks and ears flushed red, hair in disarray, a cheeky grin that for sure spelt your doom, and a faint rim of crimson that accentuates his already eye-catching mole.

Thinking back on it, you're sure this mole was the only reason you recognized him that summer of 2016. With his growth-spurt and new look, and not to mention you only having the chance to meet once beforehand, you're not sure if you would've been able to tell who he was otherwise. Not that you had to, he recognized you first.

Mindlessly, your thumb brushes against the bloom that darkens with every second passed. It doesn't hurt, you're sure of it, but Baxter appreciates the gesture all the same. Though, apparently not enough to let you linger.

Familiar fingers dip underneath your shorts, rubbing wide archs against your thighs. "Shall we continue?"

Ah, right.

You had a long night ahead of you.

2. LIPS.

"If you're feeling up for it we could take a stroll down the shore after dinner. The beach is usually empty by that time, and I'd love nothing more than to soak in the sights of a beautiful evening with you." He adds after a pause, "If you're alright with that, of course."

"I'd love to, Baxter," you answer instantly, batting away any of his worries.

For how confident your boyfriend made himself out to be to the public, you knew he still had a new dilemmas to sort through that takes time. Making sure you were happy and not feeling insecure about his choices being one of them.

"Really?" His expression lights right back up at your quick response, lips curving up into a genuinely pleased smile. "That's wonderful. I'll have to remember to bring a towel so we can dry our feet once we get back to the car. It wouldn't do well for us to drag sand back into the apartment."

Cove Holden would vehemently disagree with that statement if he were around to hear it, and you were almost inclined to bring it up yourself—being a person of the sea and whatnot.

But you don't.

The only thing on your mind is how you love hearing him so happy, love listening to the sound of his voice as he animatedly talks about even the most mundane things. You love the way the corners of his lips quirk up into a shy smile every time you compliment him and you love the way they stretch into a knowing-grin whenever he finds something new to tease you about—the way he makes it up to you with a kiss that always lasts longer than intended, and the way he says sorry without meaning an ounce of it.

Before long, those idle listings that you're so fond of hearing him talk about no longer register.

Without much thought, your hands are reaching out to cup his cheeks. Your thumb tenderly traces the outline of his jaw. No words were needed to tell him exactly what you were thinking. You were already staring at him as if you were holding the entire world in your hands.

"I'm going to kiss you now," you warn.

He chuckles amusedly, his own hand coming up to map the outline of your bottom lip, as if trying to commit the shape to memory. "What are you waiting for then?"

Nothing, really.

You waste no time leaning in, your lips fitting like puzzle pieces that were carved just to lock with each other.

It starts out slow, wanting, as if afraid you would scare one another off if you went for something more. Eventually, thoses brief pecks spiral out of your reach into something more, it's no longer a want but a need.

Despite you taking initiative, Baxter takes the lead, pulling you closer until you're practically stradling him. Your hands have moved from his cheeks to his neck, securing your place on his lap.

When you finally pull away, you're both gasping for air, eyes lidded and lungs breathless. Had your need for oxygen not won out you would have been content to kiss him all day.

Something about the look in his eyes tells you he thought the same.

1. HANDS.

One, two, three.

One, two, three.

Spin, pull, and—dip.

The music player clicks, and the sounds of string instruments abruptly stops. The silence that follows signals the end of another song.

"You did amazing." Baxter doesn't hesitate to compliment you as soon as the dance ends. He pulls you up into a standing position, but makes no effort to let go of your clasped hands.

Even if there was no reason to hold you anymore, that didn't mean anything. You were his partner—in more ways than one—so unless you wished for him to let you go, he wasn't planning on doing so any time soon.

"It's because I have such an amazing teacher leading me," you quip back.

He narrows his eyes, smiling widely. "I don't think I can call myself your teacher anymore. At this point you've far outgrown my lessons, don't you think?"

"Not at all. There's always more to learn from a former professional. Maybe you're just holding back on me."

If it was a compliment battle you wanted, it was a compliment battle you were going to get. For the next however long, the two of you spend your downtime exchanging complimentary remarks inbetween gulps of water.

The whole time, Baxter doesn't once let go of your hand, even if it meant awkwardly untwisting the cap of his bottle between his legs. He got it eventually.

"I'm so glad my misfortune brings you joy," he jokes, setting the container down by his side.

"I offered to help," you remind him. "You're the one who denied it."

"It was a battle of pride." He pouts at you, and for a second you almost thought he was serious.

Rolling your eyes, you laugh at his childish attitude. No matter how profession he tries to make himself out to be, you knew better. Underneath all those stiff suits and fancy words he was—as Xavier once described—squishy.

You hold on tighter to his hand; they were squishy too. Or maybe soft would be a more apt description.

"Is something on your mind?" he asks, no doubt curious about the sudden pressure.

You hum, lifting your arm up until the limb was right in front of your—and his—face. Your fingers wriggle out of Baxter's grasp before entertwining with his own. He lets you do it, gladly. Your palms are both clammy from holding each other for so long, but neither of you seem to mind.

And then, as if you had done this a million times before, you bring his hand to your lips in gentle kiss, and there it remains.

The same hand that had been offered to you all those years ago at the Summer Soiree was the same hand that you're holding now.

The one that holds you close in the early mornings and refuses to let go. The one that tucks your hair behind your ear and rubs delicate circles along every part of your body. The one that cradles your cheek with so much warmth you fear that one day you're going to heat up and burn into ash all at the same time.

"I was thinking about how much I love you. All of you." Your lips brush against his skin with every word, as if hoping to physically convey the full brunt of your emotions through that one simple gesture.

"Oh."

In the time you've spent dating Baxter, there were very few instances in which you were able to catch him off-guard. This just so happen to be one of those moments.

He's at a loss for words.

Unfortunately, you don't get the opportunity to bask in it for long, and soon enough, with the same care as you gave him, Baxter kisses the back of your hand. His lips glide down to your pinkie before giving it the same treatment, and then doing the same for your other four fingers, giving them each the individual attention they deserve.

Finally, he switches his grasp to your wrist and presses one final kiss to the inside of your palm.

It tickles.

"It's funny, we were thinking of the same thing." He catches your eye, features glimmering with affection. "About how I love you. All of you."

[giantkillerjack]

Junji Ito makeup test #1

OR

Figuring out what I need in order to create a music video parody of the song "Gloria" by Laura Branigan, but make it about Tomie. I will be playing the part of a 1980s pop disco singer in the style of Junji Ito. This is high art in progress, people! 😘😂😅

photos of first test:

additional digital notes made using Clip Studio:

main takeaways:

So first off, where the fuck did my stage makeup go??? I had no idea it was missing until today!! I ended up using the makeup from when I used to perform as a mime. (Not a joke, but in a larger, cosmic sense, kind of a joke. 😆 I'll probably do it again sometime. I was adorable as a little soft butch gay mime!)

I now remember why I stopped using the dry cake face paint and switched to wet paint in a tube BUT I CANNOT FIND THE TUBESSS

I'm out of eyeliner in general, but for this, I need some kind of extra thin/fine eyeliner and preferably more than a thimble-full of paint for it.

Maybe I can thin out some matte black face paint and also get like a really nice fine brush? I guess it depends on if the paint is water-soluble.

I should probably check to see if I already have these materials, which would be SO MUCH EASIER IF I COULD FIND MY FUCKING STAGE MAKEUP--

Either way the lines need to be super thin, straight, clean, and parallel to each other. Or I could look at the rougher cross-hatching Ito sometimes uses, but I suspect tidier lines will look best with makeup.

Luckily, I already have an entire burlesque/drag act where I make myself look like a character from a black and white film. Between that and the mime thing, I theoretically have all the white gloves I will ever need lol. I guess I'm going to need white leggings, since the light gray ones won't work for this. Junji Ito is not generally greyscale as much as literally black and white.

Do I own makeup primer? I feel like yes. It definitely sounds like a good idea.

I KNOW FOR A FACT I DIDN'T THROW OUT MY STAGE MAKEUP because I had quality skin-safe glitter in basically every color, and only a FOOL would throw that out!!!!

Gloria is a song from 1983 with disco balls in the music video. Do I want to incorporate more style choices from 1983? Should I buy a wig? Something with shoulder pads maybe?? I guess that means I can keep the thick eyebrows...

Actually upon further research, I do need a sequinned shirt for this. Possibly a sequin leotard with a shiny belt. And leg warmers. OH! And a jacket with just the biggest shoulder pads I can find! Or at least the closest thing I can find to this outfit in one trip to a thrift store

Every 1980s music videos seems to have a person with their hair and clothing flowing in the wind. Now, I could buy a fan. But much funnier and cheaper would be a shot of my hair blowing in the wind that then pans to a friend furiously fanning me with a piece of cardboard or something. (Which means I'd need either two people helping with this shot, or I just have to accept that the shot's going to look kind of blurry by doing the zoom-out in post. Oh gods, I would have to write a proper shot list ahhhhhh--)

Honestly, blurry footage seems fine in some parts. I'm probably going to add some dreamy soft filters anyway to make it look like pre-digital 35mm film from an 80s vid.

I'm going to need some fake blood to splatter at me in the middle of the video. Obviously. So I guess that bit will need to be filmed outside.

The good news is the fact that the nearest easiest filming location for me is a alley full of dumpsters is actually really appropriate for this video. XD

Should I do the distressed eyebrows that a lot of Junji Ito characters have? Note to try that in the next test along with a The Crow-like smile. (My go-to high school Halloween costume. Damn, I have been painting my already pasty-pale face even whiter for a while now! 😅)

Other progress made on this project today:

I recorded myself singing a voice memo along to the rhythm of the karaoke version of Gloria that's on YouTube, but in it, I'm singing in the key that is appropriate to my voice. (A couple half-steps down, I think.)

Next step will be to load that clip onto my computer and adjust the karaoke version to match its pitch. And then like, practice the song with my new personalized backing track.

If i actually finish this, I'll have to re-record the backup vocals to say the right name.

Also the next step will be to see if my interest in this lasts long enough to at least get me to find my frickin' stage makeup.

Additional notes:

The original music video for Holding Out for a Hero is exactly the right energy for this, and now I absolutely need shots of me in front of (badly green-screened) flames, on my knees while singing passionately and directly at the camera and presumably wearing kneepads tbh

Omg what if I included a little "photoshoot" sequence and really fucked with the photos to make them all blurry-body-horror nasty as they flash by real quick?? Get like, a glitch effect in the mix hell yeah 😎😎😎

Edit: Omg i just remembered I have these short-shorts with a reanimator quote on the ass! ("Blasphemy? Before what god?") i know what shorts to wear for this now!!

Oh! Another idea! What if the video starts with me reading Tomie and then closing the book and picking up the nearest microphone-shaped thing and using that to start singing - and every 30 seconds or so of footage, it quietly changes to a different item (one of which is absolute the black wand vibrator that I have XD)

Note: I can easily shorten the song if I only have funny shots planned for like 2/3 of the song length. No need to get too repetitive.

[diadromy]

April 3, 2024

This week's REPORT:

Reflecting - how did the week go?

This past week was unexpectedly very, very productive! The labs were a breeze, I got a ton of personal stuff done, and also was able to spend quality time with my friends.

Enjoying - what did I read/eat/watch?

I've been slowly working my way through The Mountain in the Sea by Ray Naylor, and deeply appreciating the deep cuts on communication. I had a doctor's appointment a few days ago and took the time to visit a new bakery and had the most amazing bergamot-mango tart. I wish I could bake better and make stuff like that! Finally, watching: mostly just anime with a sprinkling of Grey's Anatomy.

Planning- what am I striving for next week?

This coming week, I'm going to be doing my best to stay busy and productive. There's a ton of stuff I still need to do, like repotting plants, arranging therapy, and cleaning the house.

Observing - the world around me

Spring is in full swing by now! It's amazing how much people change with the seasons. I've been amusing myself by noting how outfits on campus have gone from dark, muted colors and greyscale to bright, neon fashion! Everyone's excited for sunshine.

Reaching out - how did I build/foster community this week?

I'm going to a meditation event tonight that I'm very excited for! Hoping to meet new people and make new friends.

Additionally (and very excitingly!) I reached out to and rekindled a friendship with a long-time friend I haven't spoken to in years. It's so nice how friendships can just.... snap back into place as though the distance never happened.

Treasuring - what was my favorite memory of the week?

Yesterday I went on a long walk around the city and found myself at this stunningly beautiful beach at low tide. I watched the sunset, journaled, and took a long walk by the water. It was so, so lovely.

[surfacetodepths]

Relearning

I saw my best friend for the first time in a while today and she was SO familiar but also SO different. I feel like I haven't changed at all but clearly time has changed both of us. We talked like no time has passed and ranted about ATLA and the fan fics we were reading but I felt tense the whole time like we were dancing around the fact that we've both grown up since we last saw each other. And on the walk home I had to ask her what her favorite color was. Because in middle school it was lime green (which, gross) and then in highschool it was closer to forest green, but I didn't know if that was still true. I felt like such a failure for having to ask my best friend her favorite color like I haven't known her for more than half my life. It turns out she still likes green, but a more subdued green, and she mostly wears burgundy or greyscale clothes. It's weird having to relearn someone that you've known your whole life. It made me feel guilty that I hadn't known about every change the minute it happened. And yet, even though we have to relearn parts of each other, she's still my best friend. I'm still the one who accidently revealed her crush to our middle school and she's still the one who *loudly* scolded me in public for humming here comes the sun. I'm still the one who sends her funny audio messages for her birthday and she's still the one who ordered a bagel for me nearly every day of highschool since I was too scared to do it myself. Our histories are so woven together I'm not sure who I'd be without her. I'm trying to think about this in a positive manner, as a way to meet my best friend again rather than feeling like I've lost her and fighting to bring back an older version of her that doesn't quite exist anymore. It lingers, like an echo, but there are new words being spoken now and I've got to stay present in order to hear them. Straining to hear the echo only muddies the message.

[humansun]

Written Friday, May 5th at 8:03AM

Fuzzy fish. My fuzzy fish!

What’s going on today - Oh! I know! I haven’t reached out to Jingyi or Lacy in months. And I don’t know if they’ve forgotten about me but I have nothing to show. That makes me want to die.

The likelihoods of them actually remembering and wondering where I went is high because I never followed up. I hate this. I need to confide in someone about it.

Anyways! What direction would I like to go? I have a lot of questions. I have a very hard time being “Robert Rodriguez” scary, because I am scared myself. 

I wonder if I put all of my eggs in my own basket, if things will start to show for itself. If I’m going to end up being in a position where things make more sense and I’ve gained the skills myself to feel confident.

You know what I mean? If my self-esteem levels are going to grow from doing things by myself or doing things with other people or in other places.

I wonder what life has in store for me. Whether good or bad. Whether colorful or greyscale. I wonder.

I hope all will be good, but I can only continue to do my best and hope and pray that all my wishes and everything I hope for will come true. 

But will it though. Do I believe it though. I really don’t know.

Other things on my mind, I can’t keep up with all the books I’m given right now, I’m like barely reading unless its for technical stuff. It’s all a mess, my friend. The reading is not really happening.

Yesterday, I had a really difficult time setting boundaries with my boss and my family and I am more determined to be able to manage that better. To be able to practice saying no or pausing to give space before saying yes is a very powerful thing I think I should practice. 

Diet is not looking too cute - my fupa is still present and stubborn. It’s hard to lose weight and it’s hard to know exactly what you’re doing to make that difference.

My relationship with my sister makes a lot more sense after having some transparency sprinkled in. Having a good relationship with my sister and family is important to me, even though I recognize that I did not have a traditional home experience. That is was bit dysfunctional and that’s alright.

I can get through anything, even if it’s difficult, even if I’m crying, even if I wish I wasn’t born some days. I can get through my people pleasing problems even if on some days I slip up and have a hard time setting up boundaries. No matter what I am going through, I am capable of bouncing back. That also means not giving up my time or offering it when I don’t need to or no one asks. Plus, I have a tendency to be late, so let’s not do that to my friends.

As of right now, I do have a handful of things I have to do. I have them written down which is good, but they must be done.

As for graduate school, fun fun fun idea but very scary at the thought that I’ll be 200k in debt at the end of it. It’ll be like going to med school, with no guarantee.

At this rate, I don’t want to be turning 28 and having nothing behind me. You know? And that’s the scary part. Feeling like nothing is moving forward for you. That things are all going backwards. That you aren’t moving as forward as you think you are. Like you are on a treadmill.

That’s a terrible feeling. And this is where I’ll need the most help. 

I’ll need to dedicate the full 8 hours of my day “working” because that would give me the space and room to handle my business and do it well.

It’ll give me the time for creative brainstorming, creative execution, read slash study, and work for New Wave.

No matter what anyone says I have to believe that it’s all going to work out. That even if I go to graduate school or if I don’t then I will make myself out of something and be proud of that.

Within the next fall, if I am unable to start grad school by September 2024, then I will find another job to start and prioritize making money while handling my creative work at the same time. Hopefully, that will work out. But giving myself this time to really focus on what I want to do and witnessing my self-discipline will prove to me that I am capable of achieving my dreams on my own.

It constantly feels like I don’t have time for any little thing anymore. I don’t have time to go back into my book and read it, otherwise I’m losing time. I don’t have time to sit and read dad’s Go book, because it feels like I’m wasting my time.

In this society, it feels like I constantly have to have a project for show in order to be of value, so my mind is battling that. Wanting to have something to show all the time.

But sometimes, there doesn’t have to be something to show, because who you are what’s to show. What you’ve gone through mentally is what’s to show. That you struggled and came out the other side is what’s to show. You know?

It feels like some people in this society have reached a level of success that feels so impossible for me. But I’m happy for those folks and I’m hoping that I can get to a point where I feel proud of my achievements and feel satisfied with how far I’ve come as an individual and artist.

[macgyvertape]

BSD spring '23 season liveblog

The most annoying thing is in some places eps 38-50 are season 3 and are season 4 in others 

Ep1 has phenomenal use of color where its greyscale and basically monotone except for a few details, but its done so well that there’s depth and contrast with the grey on grey. The full color showing up from Ranpo’s PoV then is a shock and drives home the different viewpoint. Even the fight choreography of Oda vs Fukuzawa comes across clearly and better done than most full color fights in other shows 

Living for this Ranpo serious character focus. The glasses transition as the world shifts into color. I’ve said it once but its so fucking good

Fukuzawa being featured in the flashback arc makes me appreciate him so much more, like I hadn’t paid him as much attention as other secondary characters because he got so little spotlight and seemed to have his shit together

Oh shit, there’s Fyodor Dostoevsky! I was expecting the Port Mafia but not him 

What the name of the music that plays post credits ep 3

Thrilled by Poe getting to star in a 2 episode plot, his focus episode was one of the things that made the Guild arc my favorite current day arc

Lmfao Poe being filthy rich and Ranpo having such a bad reaction was hilarious

The mysteries in the show are such fun

Tripping out on Poe’s ability synth wave room 10 hours

Lmao what did Rampo expect, that Mushitaro wouldn’t immediately be killed?

Nikolai’s psycho showman killer routine is super annoying and the episode isn’t even halfway

Love to see the trap build up very obviously with viewer knowledge

Great dark with red color pallets with ep7

Damn the hunting dogs get a cool music intro (they get it twice!)

From the word criminal i expected the Port Mafia to show up, but damn Chuuya has a great entrance

Kunikida is really going through it ever since the tunnels, i love when good writing stresses a character’s ideals hard, so this plotline where things build and build and build has been great.

Kunikida made what looks like a sacrifice play, time to stay up to watch this. He has such plot armor that I can’t believe he’s dead.

Really enjoying how many other characters than Danzai and Atsushi get to be in the spotlight this season

Soon as I say that Danzai shows up as a plot twist. His intelligence is very much a plot device, which is why (IMO) fandom Danzai fic falls flat a lot of the time where its “he would not fucking say that/he’s not this much a woobie and is smarter than this”

I've been playing a drinking game for the number of anime eyeglass flashes this season

Yosano gets a PoV episode, and peak example of how this shows can explore darker themes even with a healing ability, and also nail the emotional impact with the camera pan on the medallion and suicide note

Into my drinking game and I’m really noticing and appreciating the little bursts of music for 10-30 seconds  

Hmm Hirotsu is the 2nd character where it seems the hunting dogs have got a kill but body isn’t shown to the viewer 

Was not expecting Tachihara to be the last Hunting Dogs member. I better rewatch earlier seasons

Glad Mushitaro is alive, he’s a fun character haunted by the death of his best friend

Ango is getting some fun reveals this episode

Wtf is this sky casino, this helicarrier looking thing

“Most terrifying thing is a mediocre man who’s desperate”. Unfortunately true

I thought it was obvious that Sigma and Sky Casino came from the Book, but they’re making sure to spell it out 

Wow the Hunting Dogs have to go through fucked up surgeries every month or they’ll die horribly. It explains so much. (Wish I could find more fanworks that are this quality of “the limits these characters will go for their objective” and less shallow fluff)

The good outro music is back again in ep 13

Cliffhanger nooo! This ranks as new best season of BSD really enjoyed the amount of angst this season. 

Once again I wish this fandom would stop spam tagging things especially when I want to find secondary character focused works.

[qwerty-the-duck]

A couple days last, but OCtober week 2 finished! Thanks to @oc-tober2022​ for the prompt list! Under the cut is a brief explanation of each picture and how they related to the prompts. (Just like week one, which can be found here!)

And just because i forgot to mention, the OCs for most of the prompts are picked via a spinning wheel with one OC for each day. (Which I adjust if I pick one myself cuz it fits well or if I use 2 OCs in a drawing)

Day 8: Lucy (Long Story Short/LSS) for Graceful. Lucy is a gentle giant guy who gets a bad rep cuz of his appearance. His powers don’t really do much in basic offense so he is actually really skilled in fighting and has an almost dance-like approach to avoid taking hits himself. Also he loves animals, even one-eye mutant cats, so that’s there too.

Day 9: Mason and Jade (Fireball and Chain) for Role-Reversal. Mason and Jade are loose friends in the context of the story, (Mason isn’t a student at the school so they don’t really interact) but who better than two trans kids for the ultimate role reversal. Day 10: “Fencer” and Hikari Gotou (Fireball and Chain) for Dream. The prompt for this is more about myself than the characters. Bleach is one of my biggest inspirations and this was the airdate for the new season, so I drew two of my characters that matched the personalities of the Bleach characters the best and tried my hand at copying the newest seasons style. It’s a dream of mine to have a story that gives people the same feelings and inspiration that Bleach gives me.

Day 11: Reiku Gotou (Fireball and Chain) for Fight. Reiku is one of the most powerful in her story, so her fights don’t usually last long. Wanted to give a shot at a manga art style and format for this one. Took a lot of time and effort but was really fun. (A couple of the SFX didn’t export with the image and that made me sad but I didn’t have time to fix it, sadly.) Day 12: Istalf (Fireball and Chain) for Begging. I was originally gonna do something more “spicy” for this one cuz...Istalf is...anyway, but I got uncomfy looking for references in my family’s living room so instead I just went with a simple scene of him complaining about having to take care of kids he secretly loves and would die for. Day 13: Arlen and Jet (Minimal) for Fear. I spun Jet for this one but they are honestly not that fearful of a character. They are very “for the sake of science” and don’t really worry too much about their own safety during things, but they do care a lot for the character Arlen and often has to see him put himself in danger/pain as part of their job so yeah. Day 14: Eiza (Fireball and Chain) for Legend. This one was very amusing to me and straight forward because in Fireball and Chain, Eiza is a creature that is called a “Legend” so I was kinda free to do whatever I wanted for this one, so I just found a fun angle to try out. (I colored the entire jacket and the rainbow splatter on it just to greyscale it after T^T) Two-ish weeks to go!

[roetrolls]

pspspsps hey friends, here's my unsolicited art advice for anyone who wants it:

When you're creating a piece with dynamic lighting or working on a new character design

THIS BABY ⬇️ IS YOUR BEST FRIEND

Literally all of my big pieces and new designs have one of these. It's just a solid layer of black on the color/hue/saturation setting (they're all the same for this purpose)

If you're coloring something and it's not looking right, LOOK AT IT IN GREYSCALE!

Value is so so SO important to a design, and it's fucked up that I only learned that by taking classical painting lessons!! So here's me sharing that knowledge with you.

There's no rule for how you should distribute value, but it's one of those things that you want to be deliberate about! Keep it in mind, make your choices intentional!

Here's one example of how viewing my work in greyscale really helped me out. Generally speaking, the highest point of contrast in a piece is where your eye will be drawn. If you want someone to focus on a certain part of your artwork first, you can put a dark color right up next to a light one to get attention.

When I was working on this piece, I ran into an issue where Althea was just completely getting lost in the background. Acorvi's dark hair and white coat made her a focal point, and it kept a lot of focus centered on her

My solution was to lighten the background just behind both characters and to darken Althea's gloves. Here's what the final product looks like in greyscale.

Acorvi's hair still catches the eye first, but the positioning of her arm guides you left, and the contrast between Althea's gloves and the background helps you stay there. Both figures are equally noticeable!

I also use greyscale to determine if a character's color palette is working.

Here are both the Pallus guys to help illustrate! Like I said before, there's no rule for how to distribute your colors, but my preference is to avoid having things touch when they're very close in value. I always feel that it improves the clarity of a design.

[messers-moony]

Wish | F.H

Paring: Five Hargreeves X Wife!Reader

Summary: Five storms out to time travel after an argument with his wife and comes back to an unexpected surprise.

A/N: Five time travels at the age of 26 instead of 13

He was angry, that wasn’t mistaken, “ You aren’t listening to me! “

“ Are you hearing yourself?! What you’re about to do is dangerous! “ She yelled in response, and he scoffed.

They stood in the main room of their apartment. Y/n was placed in the kitchen leaning on the island while Five was dangerously close to the door. Both of them at the age of twenty-five. They had gotten married only a year before finding each other during one of his trips to Griddy’s with his siblings. He thought she was the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

Five stalked closer to her, “ You are so stubborn. “

“ I am the strongest one. “ His voice was dangerously low as they stood only a foot apart, “ I will do this. I don’t care what you say. Nothing will change that. “

“ Five, please. “ Y/n begged, “ I’m- I’m just worried about you. “

“ You don’t need to be. “ Five snapped, and he fast-walked to the door.

The male swung open the door, “ Five wait, please- “ But before she could finish, the door slammed, “ I’m pregnant. “

It was new news. She didn’t find out until a week earlier. She didn’t know when to tell him; there never was a suitable time. Now he had just threatened to fulfill a lifetime goal of his– time travel. Since he was a boy, he’s wanted to prove his worth. The only way Five could think to do that is by time-traveling into the future. He didn’t know what the future would entail. He definitely didn’t plan to get stuck in an apocalypse.

So for nine torturous months, Y/n endured a pregnancy. She was carrying a child of her presumed to be dead husband, which she didn’t believe in the slightest. Five Hargreeves was alive, and she knew that regardless of what anyone told her. She had a baby boy who she named Malachi. The same bright, alluring green as his fathers.

Despite his birth father not being around, Diego was a significant help. Diego stepped in where Five couldn’t. He was there for all of Malachi’s firsts and everything in between. But he was always Uncle Diego. A constant reminder that this man wasn’t his father. As far as the little boy knew, he didn’t have a father.

Things got more tricky as he got older. Malachi realized that a father figure was more common than not, which brought raising questions. She answered to the best of her abilities, but nothing was ever valid. None of her answers could be a hundred percent true because she didn’t know either. It was killing her to see her son this way.

He longed for a father. Wanted nothing more for a father-son relationship. Every birthday, every Christmas, he wished for his father to come home. It was killing Y/n because she understood his pain. The amount of dread, guilt, and sadness.

Maybe if she had told Five sooner, he would’ve never left. The guilt ate away at her. It was like an insect slowly crawling its way under her skin into her bones and nibbling them until they were gone. It didn’t help Malachi was an exact replica of his father. The dark, almost raven hair parted to the side, the glittering green eyes and a defined face.

No matter how long Five was gone, Y/n never took off her rings. She was a married woman until proven otherwise. Malachi had never even seen photos of his father. That was normal to him. All he knew was that his Uncles and Aunts told him he looked the exact same. Despite the same appearances, they had clashing personalities.

Malachi was the sweetest guy you could ever meet. Kind no matter who the person was. Wise beyond his years and intelligent like no other. His strong suit was English while he struggled in math. The irony was amusing. His father excelled in math, but he couldn’t do a two-step equation if he tried.

In the grand scheme of things, this didn’t matter. He got all the way up to high school. He was seventeen, to be exact, in his junior year of school. It was the summer before his senior year, and he couldn’t be more excited. As the years went on, the hope of meeting his father diminished to the point where he didn’t even think about it anymore.

He had his mom, and that’s all that mattered. His mom was his rock, his number one supporter, and his best friend. Malachi loved his mom more than anything and would give anything to keep her safe. Diego had grown to be like a father to him, but it was never the same. Malachi was sitting at the island doing homework while Y/n was cooking.

“ Hey, mom? “ He called, “ Yeah? “ Y/n turned to look at her son.

Malachi fidgeted with the pencil in his hand, “ Can I- Can I see your rings? “

“ My rings? Why? “ She asked, “ Well, dad gave them to you, didn’t he? “ Malachi replied.

Y/n nodded, “ Of course he did. We were married, technically we still are married. “

“ I just wanted to see what dad gave you. “ He murmured.

Hesitantly Y/n twisted both her engagement ring and her wedding ring off her left ring finger. She set them down on the granite island before her son so he could look at them. Gently he picked the engagement ring up and looked at it. It was the only time he’s ever seen the ring this close. She never took them off.

“ We got engaged in the snow. “ Y/n informed quietly, “ I really wasn’t expecting it. He never seemed like one to settle down. “

Malachi listened intently, “ Regardless. It was almost Christmas, and he took me to go Christmas shopping at one of the malls which was outside. “ She chuckled, “ Why he did that, I don’t know, but it was amusing. We got hot chocolate despite his love for coffee, and I made him wear a Santa hat. “

“ He was never into festivities before meeting me. Neither were your Aunts and Uncles. I started making holidays become more festive when you were born. Eventually, they got the hang of it. “ Y/n continued, “ Why was dad's name a number? “ He interjected.

“ He never got a name like the rest of his siblings. “ She answered plainly, “ Why? “

Y/n sighed, “ His father, more specifically your grandfather was a cruel man. Still is a very cruel man, which is why you’ve never met him. Reginald made the Umbrella Academy, where he adopted your dad along with his other siblings. “ She explained, “ They endured long days of training without breaks and horrid living environments. They were treated as experiments rather than children. “

“ They all got names, but Five didn’t want one. He rejected it because it didn’t matter. Name or anything. Their numbers would always define them, and Five was the only one who understood that. “ She finished.

“ What really happened to him? I know you’ve given me vague explanations, but I think I’m ready for the real thing. “ Malachi stated, “ I’m seventeen now. “

“ I know. Your father had powers. His others siblings do as well. They all do certain things. Five could travel through space and time. “ Y/n began, “ Growing up, he always felt the need to prove himself, to be better than everyone else. “

“ So, one day, he told me he was going to time travel. It was a big argument that definitely didn’t need to happen. At the time, I was a week pregnant with you, and I didn’t know how to tell him. “ She swallowed the emotions arising after remembering Five’s glare,

“ When I told him, it was too late. He was already out the door and gone. “

Y/n walked forward and took the rings back. She placed them back on her ring finger carefully as her son watched every movement. He knew she was upset. Malachi couldn’t help but be a bit resentful towards his father. All this to make a point? It seemed far-fetched.

“ That solution seems a bit absurd. “ Malachi commented, “ That's what I was trying to tell him, but he was very prideful and stubborn. “ Y/n replied.

A knock echoed through the apartment. The room felt tense. It wasn’t right; something felt off. Malachi felt it immediately cause he stood up and began walking to the door, wanting to protect his mother if a threat was there. Secretly Diego may have given him some defense classes, but that didn’t matter.

The boy opened the door to see almost the exact same face staring back at him, “ Who are you? “ Malachi snapped.

“ More importantly, who are you? “ The man retorted.

Every hair on Y/n’s body stood up. She knew that voice, and she knew that tone. It was him. He was back. It took everything inside her not to scream or cry but seeing Malachi hold his defensive stance against his own father was worrying her.

“ Malachi. “ She called, and he turned to her as she began to walk to the door, “ I need you to go to your room and promise not to eavesdrop. “

He wanted to protest, “ Please, sweet. I’ll be okay. I promise. “

Reluctantly Malachi backed away from the door giving the man a harsh glare that made the man evidently tense. Y/n waited for Malachi to be fully retreated in his bedroom before looking at the man in front of her.

“ Well. It looks like you’ve moved on. “ Five murmured, “ No- please. It isn’t what it looked like. “ She pleaded.

Her hand took his, and he recognized the rings on her finger. The same rings Malachi had just been examining. The same rings he took months to search for to find the perfect fit for his perfect girl. Everything seemed so colorful in his greyscale world now. His wife was still his.

“ Who- Who is he? “ His voice trembled as his lingering suspicion felt more accurate than ever, “ Come in and sit. We need to talk. “ Her voice was gentle and held no malice.

Five entered the now unrecognizable apartment. It wasn’t the same as when he left. In fact, everything seemed moved out of place. Y/n walked to the stove and turned off the burner that she was using. Five had peered at the papers on the island that were math worksheets and took a seat beside them.

“ Where did you go? “ She asked, “ The future. “

“ No shit. What did it look like? “ Y/n retorted playfully, “ It’s not as I hoped. It’s an apocalypse, love. “ His voice held so much pent emotion it was almost radiating off him.

She sighed, “ Okay. We need to talk about that- “

“ I- I want to know who that kid is. “ Five interrupted, and she gave him a knowing look, “ Malachi, can you come out here. “ Y/n called, and instantly he was out of his room.

The boy stood beside his mom, still not comfortable with the unfamiliar man. This time Five got a chance to really look at the teenage boy in front of him. The defined face, the almost raven hair, the same sage green eyes. His posture was protective and territorial, obviously for his mom.

“ Y/n… “ Five began as he swallowed the tears in his throat, “ Is- Is he mine? “

She nodded, “ Five Hargreeves, I’d like you to meet your son, Malachi Hargreeves. Malachi, I’d like you to meet your father, Five. “

[dhoklaaminoacid]

leaving for uni in exactly a week after a year and a half of seeing me complain about tiddi and jee, you'll be glad to know im now done with both(yo girls growin) idk if its for the better or the worse, but my life at this point is so different from what 2019 ro had expected im not even half as happy as her, but i went out with my friend and laughed over an inside joke we had about corn, and i sipped diet coke looking at her smile her heart out, and just for a moment, i felt physically warm, like a switch had flipped and i had suddenly gone from greyscale to colorful mode and happiness seemed achievable, within my reach. i've been told im overdramatic when i say i've cried with a towel stuffed in my mouth and exhaust fan on and water running so my mom doesnt know im not okay, but i learned to not dismiss my feelings, and not gaslight myself into thinking that if im hurt its probably because i deserve it. idk what ive written so far but ig i want to reintroduce myself. hi, im ro, im starting a new chapter n my life, without the people i had cared most about for the past 18 years , in a uni i didnt initially wanted to go to, but in a brand new, one of the most beautiful cities in my country, to study my preferred subjects. i want to be happy, and i'll do my best to make that happen. i've been through a lot(not doing this for attention please), but i think i dont want to be dead anymore. "to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it."

[tooruluv]

Kei Tsukishima x F!Reader ( part 1 )

❝ they were the sun and moon, destined to be together but only ever totally meeting once every hundred years or so. ❞

description: in a world where you only see color when you're in love, you've grown frustrated of the greyscale. but falling in love with someone you barely know was never something you planned. and, him not returning the feelings definitely wasn’t planned.

genre: soulmate au... except not quite. everyone is born colorblind. you can only see color once you fall in love (and it grows brighter until you see full color as the love grows). however, that doesn't ensure a lasting connection. it simply means that love exists in that moment, until it doesn't.

word count: 1,855

warnings/notes: i would like to say that the "soulmate au but only when you're actually in love" thing is not my idea! i don't know who's idea it was, and i'm sure it was created by several people, but i just wanted to tell you all that i wish i was that creative but, unfortunately, i am not. so! i wanted to give credit where credit is do! moving on to the fic! <3 enjoy, loves

tag list: @vhskenma​ @elianetsantana​ @mini-eggs-reads​

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masterlist

“ you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you ” - can’t take my eyes off of you, frankie vallie

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━��

Kei Tsukishima did not believe in falling in love. Sure, he believed in loving things, but being in love sounded absolutely ridiculous. The entire basis of love, relationships… it just never made any sense to him.

You, on the other hand, very well might have your heart placed on your sleeve. You had a million crushes, a constant new person in your focus. The thing was, you had never seen color.

Color only came to those who fell in love. Through those crushes, through those varying false relationships and games of spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven, you had never actually fallen in love.

It was becoming frustrating.

While Tsukishima was perfectly content in living in a world without love, in the same greyscale life he had always known, while you were drowning trying to find someone to hang onto.

What strange friends you were.

Well, not friends, per say. But acquaintances for sure. A comfortable relationship between the two of you full of eye contact, your flirtations, and his constant coming into your coffee shop.

If we had to name a beginning, it started the first week of the summer.

You were working at a coffee shop, this little place called Blu. It was a simple corner shop, squished in between two other buildings. You just wanted a summer job to pass by time and get some money, nothing permanent.

Until, one day a tall boy with glasses walked into the place.

He looked bored out of his mind as his eyes scanned the menu above your head. He didn’t say anything when you greeted him (“Welcome to Blu! What can I get for you today?” in your best customer service voice), nor did he say anything when you handed him his coffee. He only spoke to you once, a monotone “I’ll take a black coffee” when he ordered.

You were absolutely infatuated.

One, because who orders a plain black coffee in the middle of the summer? And two, he was cute.

He had to be your age, you decided. Though most kids your age would never get a plain black coffee, and he was pretty tall, he had the youth you did. You just knew.

“Kei!” you called for his order. He didn’t even look into your eyes.

This was a repeat occurrence throughout the rest of the summer, every morning. Sometimes he would say something more, like add a little “Hello.” before ordering. Or he would steal glances at you, and there would be a staring contest for a moment or two.

Occasionally, he even muttered “thank you” when you handed him the mug. Call it what you want, but you called it “progress”.

One particular morning, he was dressed up. You didn’t know what for, you didn’t know much about him as it were, and all you could do was admire. He was stunning in a dark suit, the greyscale doing nothing but bring out how handsome he looked in it.

“Well, don’t you look ravishing today?” You flirted, already moving to get his black coffee. “The usual?”

He gave a small nod, not reacting to your compliment. He had his hands in his pockets, and a dangly earring in one ear.

“Well, here you go.” You handed him the mug. “One plain black coffee for Kei. Don’t spill it on yourself.”

“I would never.” He said. His voice was still monotone, but you caught it. A small quip in the corner of his lip. You almost got him to smile.

However, most mornings it was the same thing. He would come in, order a black coffee for “Kei”, and sit near the window and scroll through his phone through sips. You would watch as the sun created lighter greys along his skin and hair, you would watch as the glare gleamed off of his glasses.

Oh, how you wished you could see the color of his hair.

And, one day, you did.

It was a usual summer day. Autumn was approaching fast, so cool wind started to battle against the sun. But he came in nonetheless; Kei, with his black coffee. Except, this time was different.

“Welcome back, stranger.” You greeted, smiling as bright as you could. You didn’t even ask him what he wanted, you were already getting the black coffee ready behind the counter.

“I’ll take a black coffee.” he said, monotone and normal.

But, it wasn’t normal, not even the slightest bit. Because when you looked up to hand him his coffee, you were met with an array of colors.

You had to blink a few times, just to make sure that you were seeing what you were seeing. The colors were faded, newly forming, but they were still very much there. He had light yellow hair. No. “Blonde” was the word you were looking for.

He was frozen too, just standing there. But then you realized that you were just staring, his coffee in your hands. He must’ve thought you were insane.

“Kei, can I ask you something?” you asked, not wanting to hand him his drink yet. You weren’t one to let your questions go unanswered.

For a moment, he blinked at you. He definitely had to think you were insane. “What?”

“Do you see color?”

If you saw color as you looked at him, you hoped that maybe… maybe he saw color when he looked at you.

“No.”

Right. Of course not.

“Okay. Thanks! I was just wondering.” you handed him the mug, plastering a fake smile on your face (partly for the sake of customer service, and mainly to cover your disappointment). “Enjoy!”

He gave you one last look over, one last glance, before going to his usual spot by the window.

The thing was, you were hoping that he did. You know how ridiculous it sounded, being in love with someone who only spoke a couple of sentences to you. But you couldn’t deny that spending the entire summer excited to see that one person at work… it made sense that you would be.

You just weren’t expecting the colors to arrive right before you leave the job. The perfect time to fall for someone you will probably never see again once you leave and return to school and sports full-time.

Love really does come when you least expect it.

For the rest of that day, you spent your time finding as many colors as you could. You didn’t want it to go away, though it was a likely chance. The colors go away when the love does.

You had to look up what some of the colors were. It was strange to be taught the colors without ever seeing them, and your parents had explained how some colors look, but it was completely different. It was like each of them had their own feeling.

But, even then, you only witnessed the faded versions of those colors. The sky was a pale blue, hidden by the grey clouds. The grass was almost yellow, and the shop you worked at was a soft brown. Everything was still hidden by the greyscale you were accustomed to. And you couldn’t help but want to see more, see them in their full color.

Maybe falling completely and utterly in love would be an amazing thing.

It was comparable to the sun and moon, the relationship between you and Kei Tsukishima. You danced around each other, hoping to chase the light the other brought.

When you worked the next morning, your usual boy didn’t show up. Your eyes searched for him every time the small ding of the bell above the door announced someone entering. But it was never him.

Sighing, you ended your last shift there. Maybe you would come back as a customer, order a drink that has way too much sugar, and sit in his spot in hopes he would show up and sit with you. Or maybe you would run into him on your way out.

Or not.

As you hung up your apron for the last time, gave your manager your nametag and said your last goodbyes to your favorite coworkers, you accepted the fact that the colors would leave soon. They very well couldn’t stay if you end up falling out of love with a boy you would never see again.

It had been months.

Months, and the colors didn’t leave and didn’t grow any brighter. You were stuck in a world where everything was filtered to be faded, and you were growing annoyed.

“Just fucking go away already.” you spoke to the universe.

You would rather live in a world without color than live in a world of almost.

“Everyone!” Daichi called for the team to join him. They obeyed. “Now that Coach Ukai is our official coach, he’s come up with an idea. I think it’s pretty good, so hear him out.” Daichi announced. He turned to their coach, letting him speak.

“Alright, guys.” Ukai crossed his arms. “We have some tournaments this weekend. So do some of the other sports teams, specifically the girls volleyball teams and the softball and baseball teams.”

Tsukki was bored. What did softball and baseball have to do with volleyball? Their season isn’t for months, anyway. They have plenty of time before actual games.

“So, I’ve talked with the softball and baseball coaches and they think that it’s a good idea for us to team up for some fundraising things the next couple of weeks so we can get buses.” Ukai explained. “And, on top of that, someone from the softball team said that they would help us with volleyball practices after softball, since we typically end later than they do.”

“Wait, softball?” Tanaka gaped. “So a girl’s gonna be helping us?”

“A girl already does help us, dumbass.” Tsukki rolled his eyes. Kiyoko did too, but subtly.

“Yeah, she’ll be here in a couple of minutes so I wanted to give a warning.” Ukai said. “She’s in her first year, too, but I expect respect. Alright, now that that’s out of the way, let’s get on with practice.”

Okay, cool. Now back to practice. The reason they’re there to begin with.

They practiced for a bit, going through drills and did a bit of half-assed running (which Tsukki still never understood, why would he have to run miles if he’s just a blocker?). Until a girl walked in.

It was you.

You were here, at Karasuno, at his practice.

You walked in, still in your softball practice uniform. Every time that he had seen you during the summer, you never had your hair down. But, when you walked into the gym and greeted Coach Ukai with a smile, your hair was down and messy from the wind.

Everyone else had noticed Tsukki had stopped in his tracks and dropped what they were doing, turning their heads to see what he was looking. Or rather, who. Now you had the entire team’s attention.

That was when you caught his eye.

His breathing stopped. And so did yours.

[doodles-from-the-goddess-wall]

Okay, so introducing a new Blorbo who is a part of my OC Zeek'n's word: Princess Leeda of Tenebris. This is gonna be a full portrait, in greyscale Because all Tenebrians are black and white shadow people, but I do all the art in color first lol

Leeda/Leeds (pronouns she/sher/shers and hi/hem/hes, and no I'm NOT joking. It started as a joke, but she latched onto them instantly and won't give them back so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ jokes on me ig) is the crown princess and one day King of Tenebris. Zeek'n is hes scribe and best friend, and at one time Zeek, Leeds, and Zeek'n's wife Admu were in a poly relationship that could have become more than friends/lovers. But Leeds said no, not because she didn't want to have a live with Zeek and Admu, but because hi didn't want to drag the two into the admittedly VERY nast world of the crown any more then they already were. To this day, Leeda still loves Zeek'n, but stands by sher decision to not pursue a relationship beyond that of friends. Zeek'n knows this, and the two have a very good relationship with eachother. Leeda has also been named Aunt to Zeek'n's son, Ordon.

Bonus picture because it makes me laugh: NOSE

[shattered-mirror-fanfic]

HAHAHA! I’M EARLY THIS TIME! Anyways, before you read: This is your warning about how in this chapter there’s mentions of child abuse, blood, death and scientific experiments on a child. You have been warned.

Ao3 Link: Chapter below cut for those who read it here on tumblr: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32206135/chapters/84899077

The walk home from school was dull as always, walking along the grey path, connected to a grey street, little color in the world. Despite being only six years old, Desdemona had many responsibilities, especially after their soul fully developed. 

The routine was simple: walk home, get homework done, change clothing, get a snack, curl up on the couch with the snack, a blanket, and their favorite doll until their dad got home. Usually on Thursdays like this, Desdemona feared when their dad would get home because he would yell at them and have them turn off the tv and get in the car. This new addition only started when their mom disappeared. One day, at 3:20 when she was meant to get home, she didn’t show up. It wasn’t Des’s fault, they were only a child and their soul wasn’t even fully developed, they were only wondering what if’s, it shouldn’t be their fault that it became real. 

No matter, they had other worries. They didn’t have any homework so they went straight up to their room, changing out of the light blue and white uniform shirt and white shorts into a comfortable black and white striped t-shirt and brown overalls instead. They grabbed a blanket and pink axolotl doll from their bed and went downstairs again. Before going into the living room, they popped into the kitchen and grabbed a bag of cheese puffs from the pantry that were hidden away at their height so their father couldn’t confiscate it. There weren't many of the puffs left so they took the bag with them. They went to the living room and climbed onto the grey couch, covering themself and their plushie with the blanket. They grabbed the discarded remote and turned on the tv, pressing random numbers until they got to the cartoon channel. 

Seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to an hour, and the front door slammed open as the episode faded to black. 

“Turn that tv off right now! Get up and get in the car, traffic was held up enough already!” The tall man who entered had yelled. Desdemona hated their father on Thursdays, he was always so mean and would only let Desdemona eat stale animal crackers that tasted both bland and too sweet. Regardless, the child slid off the couch and went to the door, putting on some boots and grabbing their father’s hand to be led to the car.

They were set in a booster seat and buckled in with the stupid animal crackers and doll. Their father slammed the door shut and got in the drivers spot, driving off down the road to their destination. 

Roughly twenty minutes had gone by when the car stopped outside of a large grey building located along a dirt path. Desdemona dreaded this place, there were no good people there, only mean men in big white coats. The place was bland and basically greyscale, no pictures or paintings anywhere, it was like a prison. Desdemona’s father led them to a room with only a bed, a few chairs, some counters and cabinets. Without instructions, Des hopped on the bed and waited, swinging their legs while their father sat in one of the folding chairs in the corner of the room. The child held their plushie tightly, letting their dirty blonde hair fall in front of their face, hearing only their father wishing for a normal child before three of the mean men in white coats came in and began their tests.

~~~

Souls develop in a human by the age of five, beforehand their souls are usually white, empty and still developing their traits. For Desdemona, their soul didn’t develop correctly, and by the time the trait showed itself, it was too late to guide their soul differently. It was malformed and full of hate and malice, the only things they were shown before, not an ounce of KINDNESS was present in soul tests, the only trait that had developed into a positive range was DETERMINATION, and even then, it was very weak, and couldn’t manage being the dominant trait on it’s own. 

It was very rare for souls to be malformed, and even rarer to have all but one trait be malformed. Oddities like these seem to be caused from one parent having a malformed trait, which in Desdemona’s case, could be their father having malformed kindness, after all, he was a “businessman”. It could be possible for a soul to be malformed in another way, where all the traits exceed limits, the soul exhibits all traits to an extreme and displays all the traits equally among the heart. But this has only remained speculation. 

~~~ “Des, wake up.” They heard their father say. There wasn’t a clock in the room, but even then, they knew it had been at least five hours since the doctors gave them the medication that put them to sleep. Desdemona sat up and saw their soul was exposed, it was black and inky, with a little dot of red on the side where a doctor most likely had injected raw determination into their soul to make it normal. 

“Sorry dad, I’ll be better…” The child weakly said.

“Listen Des, I know you hate me, I’m just still upset about what you did to your mother.”

“I didn’t do anything! It’s not my fault!” Desdemona cried. Their dad sighed and picked them up and carried them to the car, putting them into their seat before settling into his own and beginning the drive home. 

“We’re having mac and cheese again, and I want you to behave tomorrow and remember…”

“No showing my soul to anyone.”

“And if someone asks?”

“Say it’s determination and dodge other questions...”

“Good, sorry the tests ran a bit late, your soul is just needlessly complicated.” 

The drive was boring as always, the sky was illuminated with the end of a sunset, but it wasn’t anything. Des fell asleep in their seat, only waking up when the car drove over a bump that jolted the end of it. 

Tomorrow is another day.

~~~

Stepping onto the schoolyard was a chore, it was tedious, unnecessary, the educational systems flawed anyway, and yet it is still done because in our minds we believe that we would not make it anywhere without wasting time here. Desdemona wished they could just stay at home and learn from the internet where they only learn what’s necessary for a future career.

But, no, the elder gods demanded that all children (which is all people under 18) are required to attend hell to understand what awaits them if they step out of line. Unfortunately Desdemona was not one of the “gifted” ones that were made to believe that they were smart when in reality it’s just a facade to let the parents know which kid needs therapy before 16. 

In reality, Desdemona was just standing paralyzed at the school gates, knowing nothing excited them. They were tired, full of hatred, and bored. They looked around, seeing all the happy friends playing chase and other games, no one was alone, this saddened the blonde child at the gate. Until a new face appeared next to them.

“Hi! Who are you?! Names [REDACTED]! What’s yours?!” A boy excitedly spoke. Desdemona stared at the white-haired boy, stunned. Someone wanted to talk to me?

"My name is Des...Desdemona."

"That's a cool name! Say friend, what's your soul trait? Mine's determination!" The boy continued to speak. Desdemona stared at [REDACTED] before answering.

"Determination...at least I think…"

"Well can I see?" Before Des could say no, the teacher came out and called the kids inside for class time. "Hey, we'll talk after class ok? Bye friend!" And the boy left. He was always interesting.

~~~

The school day was done in an instant, and Desdemona found themself walking back home. The clouds greying above, making the air cold and damp.

"Desdemona! You should wait here until your father can get you! It's going to be a downpour!" They heard the teacher cry. They were only a little out of the gate, so it probably was best to listen. They walked back to the roofed area that the teacher was under, along with their new friend [REDACTED]. "I'll call your dads, do you mind waiting here?"

Two shakes of the kids heads and she left.

"Hi Dessie! Can I see your soul now?" Desdemona's new friend asked. They were conflicted, but ultimately, they trusted [REDACTED]. They pressed and hand against their own chest and out popped the pitch black soul. "Wow! I haven't seen a soul like that before!"

"My dad doesn't like me showing my soul…" 

"It's cool though! Don't feel bad!" The comment made Des smile, it was great to have a friend that accepts their oddities. The two talked about all sorts of child nonsense afterwards. About ten minutes had passed when the teacher came back out, her face was one of distress.

"Desdemona, your father will be here shortly, [REDACTED], I'll walk you to where your mother is, ok?" The kids nodded. They waited a few minutes until a car pulled up and out stepped Desdemona’s father carrying an open umbrella.

“C’mon Des, I have to take care of paperwork before eight.”

“Dad! Can my friend come over? Please?” The blonde child asked, running up to their father.

“What?! N-...fine, whatever keeps you happy, but you know the rules. Ma’am, is that ok?” The grown man asked, directing his attention to the teacher.

“Well, I would have to inform [REDACTED]’s mother, but if she agrees, then it’s fine.” The teacher responded. Desdemona smiled and ran back to give [REDACTED] a hug while the teacher pulled out her phone again. 

~~~

The ride home wasn’t dull for once, this time, it was fun! Desdemona and their friend sat and chatted the whole time, talking about the most random of things. When they finally got home, Des bolted upstairs to change into their usual after school clothes as fast as they could so they could get back to their friend. They could talk and play for the rest of their short lives the whole night! It was so much fun, and it was only sunset when Des’s father said that [REDACTED] had to get ready to go home. 

“Des, can I ask you something?” Their father asked, leading them to the kitchen while their friend was packing their bag still. 

“Sure!” They had left the kitchen and went to the empty backyard with only a tree and some bushes. 

“When did you think you could keep it a secret that you showed your friend your soul?” Des choked at the sentence. 

“Father, I’m sorry, he didn’t tell anyone and no one else saw!” The child spoke, tears forming in their dark eyes.

“Well that’s where you’re wrong, as your teacher saw and informed me when she called to ask if I could come to pick you up.”

“Dad! I’m sorry! I’ll be better! I can make it up to you!”

“Too late, Desdemona.”

~~~

When [REDACTED] finished packing his bag, he slung it over his shoulder and looked around, not seeing their friend at all. 

“Hey Dessie?! Where are you?!” He asked to the open room. I should investigate! And off he went, looking around in every room for their friend, he never saw them leave so who knows where they went! Only after going downstairs again and seeing his friend’s father walk into the kitchen from the backdoor with red hands, did [REDACTED] figure out where their friend was. 

Into the back yard he went! Only after sneaking by Des’s father and opening the slightly ajar door, did his smile and his heart sank. There, laying on the ground in front of the willow tree, was Desdemona, unmoving, and in a puddle of a dark red liquid. [REDACTED] rushed over to kneel in front of their now deceased friend. 

“Dessie...please wake up, why won’t you wake up?!” He shouted while tears formed in his eyes. “Dessie! Please! You’re my only friend! Why can’t you wake up?!” He shook his friend’s body and noticed the black soul, shattered in half. The boy grabbed it and held it close. “Please wake up! Please wake up! Please wake up!” 

Then, the feeling of [REDACTED]’s skin being torn off in pieces hit, and he let out a sharp cry of pain. The shards of the black soul soared up and [REDACTED]’s red soul was drawn out. “I need you to wake up!”

Silence…

The screaming had stopped, the black soul was absorbing new determination provided by the red one. [REDACTED] fell onto his side and let his eyelids grow heavy. 

The only other thing he could remember from that day were police sirens, an ambulance, and being paralyzed, forced to stare as his friend was covered in a white blanket, and carted off. 

~~~

That was the last of Desdemona, a child born with a destiny to die at the hands of a cruel father just because they had an imperfect soul.

Not even time remembers the life it took, the only one who could remember the blonde child was the one with their soul. The boy grew up on a quest to bring back their once friend, no matter how much their hate and death corrupted them. 

[theangriestpea]

Love in Color

Summary: You can only see color after you’ve touched your soulmate. You lived your life in greyscale until a certain Serpent brushes you with his fingertips. 

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader

Rating: PG

Word Count: 2.1k+

Warnings: Mentions of drug use. 

A/N: This was an anon request for a soulmate AU. Takes place during Season 2. It’s a little short and kind of just...ends. idk I may make a second part if people ask. I didn’t quite know where I wanted to go with this so yeah. Enjoy!

When you arrived at school that morning, you assumed everything would be normal. That is until you saw the line of motorcycles parked out back with a motley of beat up pickup trucks and sedans, most of which had some kind of snake identifier. You weren’t sure how you could have forgotten that the kids from Southside High had integrated into Riverdale while you were out with pneumonia. You’d been out a full week and had missed the grand entrance of leather jackets and switchblades. 

That was probably for the better. 

Now as you walked inside you felt nerves creep up your esophagus and sit heavily in your throat, making it feel tight. You didn’t have any prejudice against Southsiders, you just assumed they’d have prejudice against you. After all, it was the Northside that had their school shutdown in the first place. 

The rumors of what went down at Southside High had flooded the halls shortly after it was announced that it was going to be shut down. The student body was filled with gangbangers. Violence and drugs were ingrained in the everyday life of the students. An hour didn’t go by where a fight didn’t break out. 

Despite all of this, there was a small bud of curiosity blooming in your stomach. Would you find him now? Your soulmate? No one here at Riverdale High had made you see the brilliant colors that one only saw after they’d met their one and only. Even had sixteen life was set in its boring hues of grey. Your best friend had tried to describe color to you but they found it difficult to convey the emotion one felt when they could finally see the rainbow. 

You were used to the blandness of the world. It was monotonous. Boring. But there was comfort in it. It was still fairly early to find ones soulmate. Most didn’t even see color until college. The thought made you groan inwardly. It could be years before you saw something new. 

Once inside the school you noticed that everyone clung to their cliques. While this was pretty typical, the tightness the groups held were a little different. You were mostly a floater, never sticking to just one group. Your personality made you versatile and you got along with most everyone. It was nice for the most part and you weren’t involved in much drama. 

At least, not yet. 

You could see the mass of black leather jackets crowding around a cluster of lockers. Across their backs were the words Southside Serpents along with a grey double-headed snake that was hissing from both mouths. Your teeth met your lower lip in anticipation only to find that they completely ignored you. You walked by, breath hitched, but none so much as turned to look your way. It was a little disheartening to know that you weren’t even a blip on their radar. 

As you turned your head to continue, eyes away from them, the tallest of the Serpents finally noticed the girl walking past. It was a face he hadn’t seen before, a beautiful face that looked forlorn and lonely. He wondered what had made her feel that way as she retreated into a classroom. 

Fangs hit him on the arm to get his attention. Sweet Pea looked down at his friend before tuning back in to whatever Jughead was droning on about. It was going to be another long week here in the peppy school that despised their presence. 

At lunch you took your lunchbox to your typical seat at an empty table. It was vacant as usual. Normally only you and whoever decided to stray from their packs sat with you. Oddly enough no one seemed to approach the table to join you. Maybe they thought you were still contagious or something. 

You bit into your sandwich, reading over some notes from a class you had missed with a group of leather clad Southsiders sat down around you. Your eyes slowly moved up to see a particularly tall boy in front of you. “This is our table.” He said in a low and angry tone. You stared at him blankly before looking around to see others had sat down around you.

“That’s funny. I don’t see your name on it.” You quipped while pretending to search for a name etched onto the table. 

The Serpent boy scowled at you. “Go run to your friends, princess.” 

You opened your mouth to speak when Jughead walked up with his food. “Sweet Pea, leave her alone. Y/N, you don’t mind if we sit with you?” He asked and Sweet Pea shot him a look to portray the offense in Jughead’s question to her. This was their spot. Why was he asking her if they could be here? 

You shrugged your shoulders, obviously not caring about their presence. “If you want. I don’t care.” You said flatly before giving the stranger that had spoken to you first a pointed look. He just huffed in response and started to eat, not wanting to say anything more. 

This continued throughout the week and you began to learn more and even befriend the Serpents. Toni in particular was very sweet to you and you had quickly become almost inseparable. Fangs was pretty nice as well, always cracking jokes. The only one that seemed resistant to have anything to do with you was Sweet Pea, the one that gave you so much trouble on that first day during lunch. He would barely speak to you, ignoring you most of the time. At first it hurt, but now as you were so used to it, you just found it annoying. 

“You should come to the quarry tonight, Y/N.” Toni said as she flicked back her long pink hair. “We’re having a bonfire. It’ll be fun! A few beers in us and we can all go swimming.” She turned to look at you, smiling brightly. 

You thought about it for a moment before returning the smile, “Sure, Toni. I would love to come out. Will everyone be there?” 

Toni smirked, “just the Serpents.” She said, “Maybe Betty too. She sometimes hangs out with us with Jughead. That’s okay, right? Not worried about being seen with a bunch of snakes, are you?” 

A light laugh erupted from your chest, “You know I couldn’t care less about that. You guys are fun...well, most of you.” You shot a look towards Sweet Pea who was a few paces in front of you. He seemed to sense this and offered up a glare over his right shoulder. 

“He’ll warm up to you eventually,” Toni whispered to her, “just give it some time. I promise he’s a big softy deep down.” 

“I just have to get past the hard bastard coating, huh?” You teased, making her giggle. 

She gave you a brief hug, “I’ll see you tonight then, text me!” 

You grinned, hugging her back, “I will, bye Toni.” 

That night you arrived at the quarry to see a large fire that appeared to be a bunch of different greys and whites. It offered plenty of light even though the sun had fallen about an hour before. You wore a black bikini top with a pair of cut off jean shorts, the black bottoms underneath in case you decided to go swimming. You weren’t sure how serious Toni had been when she mentioned it. 

Fangs handed you a can of cheap beer when he saw you. You thanked him before popping the tab and taking a sip. You grimaced at the taste. It was pretty terrible but it would be worth it for the buzz it’d give you. You were pretty lightweight and after two and a half beers you’d been pretty tipsy. Toni said that made you a cheap date which always made you roll your eyes. 

Sweet Pea was in a sleeveless flannel shirt and gym shorts. You had never noticed how large his biceps were as usually when you saw him he had long sleeves on. You swallowed hard at the sight, watching the muscles flex as he crushed a beer can while laughing with another Serpent. It was strange to see him laugh...nice almost. 

He noticed you staring and flashed a devious smirk. A dark grey blush crossed the tops of your cheeks and you quickly looked away, embarrassed for having been caught ogling him like that. You never knew what to make of Sweet Pea. Toni said he’d warm up to you but he always seemed to callous. He acted like you were a thorn in his side. 

Still the brawny Serpent was easy on the eyes so you suffered his presence whenever you were hanging out with Toni, Fangs, and Jughead. Most days he sat almost directly in front of you at lunch, glowering at the Northsider that had invaded the hearts of his brethren. Although, secretly, if he had to pick any Northsider to hang out with then it would be you. You didn’t treat them differently or look at them like they was scum. It was nice compared to most of the other students. 

The sight of you in such little clothing piqued Sweet Pea’s interest. That and the heart-eyed look you’d been giving his muscles just a moment earlier. How cute you looked when you got embarrassed...He grabbed another can of beer before walking up to you, the same cocky look plastered onto his face. 

“Y/L/N.” He said, looking you over with slow movements of his dark eyes. “Surprised you showed up. This place isn’t too dirty to you Northsiders?” 

You dared to look up at him, face still flushed as you rolled your eyes at him. “I had my tetanus booster a few months ago, Sweet Pea, so I think I’ll survive.” 

He opened his beer and chugged it, a look of disgust crossing your face at the weird display. Once finished he looked back down at you, flexing as he crushed the can and tossed it. He was obviously putting more effort into it then he needed you. “You seem to like it when I do that.” 

A scoff left your lips, “please. I’ve just had too much to drink.” It was an excuse, of course, you were barely halfway through your first beer. You didn’t feel anything yet. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

But this wasn’t Sweet Pea’s first, second, or even third beer. It was more like his sixth and he was definitely feeling it. He reached out and brushed the stray piece of hair that hand wandered across your face. The very tip of his index finger brushing your skin. 

Color blossomed in your vision, the bright blue of his flannel, his eyes suddenly a deep brown instead of impossibly black. And the fire...the fire was probably the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. Your breath clung to your throat as tears nearly spilled from your eyes at the sheer beauty of the world. 

Sweet Pea was staring at you still, your face illuminated with color suddenly. He realized your bikini wasn’t black but a really deep purple. Well, he didn’t actually know the name of the color, just that it wasn’t black. The two of you stood dumbfounded at the revelation that you were soulmates, destined to be together until the end of time. 

“It’s you…” You murmured softly as your eyes connected once again. There was a silence between you as Toni trotted up happily. 

“Hey you two, I was just-” She stopped, seeing the foreign looks on each other’s faces. “What? What is it?” 

The two looked at her, her once grey hair was now brown with bright pink streaks. “We’re…” You couldn’t even bring yourself to say it, the shock still evident on your face. “It’s...your hair…” 

Toni threaded a hand through her locks, “My hair? What about it?” 

“It’s...so colorful.” You said breathlessly. 

A look of confusion crossed Toni’s face before it dawned on her, “You can see it? The color? You found him!” She then looked at Sweet Pea who also seemed captivated by the pink of her hair. 

“Wait...Sweet Pea is your soulmate?” She asked before bursting into a fit of giggles, “This is perfect! I have to tell Fangs!” She turned and ran to find the other Serpent, laughing the entire time. 

“Want to get out of here?” Sweet Pea asked finally once she had left. “Or suffer those two the rest of the night?” 

You turned back towards him, a wide smile on your face, “I’d love to.” 

[thebridgebeyond]

-What is your inspiration for art?

My main inspiration for art mainly comes from within: feelings, memories, dreams. It can be a very in the moment type of thing--something that connects and resonates deeply to me. That said, I would not be where I am without a few favorite artists and friends, as they are a source of my creative drive too. I’ve always acknowledged that seeing others draw makes me want to as well, and it often can produce wonderful results.

 -What do you think you’re best at right now? What do you want to improve on?

If I had to choose something in the ballpark of fairly even consistency as far as quality in my eyes, it would be landscapes or scenery. I’m still learning how to make them more proficient, but I would certainly identify them as a strength. Currently, I think creating a particular mood in a drawing has been something I’m slowly getting around to... I occasionally find that mood presents itself if the art has a story or depending on the individual showcased, as I myself rarely draw vent art. When I do, it tends to take the shape of and former two things regardless (see ‘New Lands’: https://www.deviantart.com/thebridgebeyond/art/New-Lands-853358640?ga_submit_new=10%3A1615499057&ga_type=edit&ga_changes=1)

 -How much time do you put in a drawing/how long does it take?

I admit to being a rather slow and steady artist when it comes to completing certain projects. It can take me anywhere from two to four hours straight to complete a finished/detailed piece.  Things like references take several days to even weeks as I’m very peculiar in the detail of a ref as well as the written descriptions for it. Semi-detailed flat coloring can take me an hour, and sketches take much less time. Although I expect to get a smidge faster as I solidify certain techniques, I am quite comfortable at my pace.

 -How do you start a drawing-what are the things you do first?

Starting points are pretty individual, and I’ve gained mine out of one year of habit and a good art kick concerning consistency—so rather recently. Digitally, I start out with choosing the background color to set a tone, create a very loose sketch and paint over it as I go along. If I have a lineart, such as with individual refs, I will paint underneath that layer until the colors can hold the ‘form’ of what I am painting. The lineart gets deleted after as it’s more of a hinderance at that point in the drawing—I’m a lineless type of artist for the most part.

 - what's your favorite way to paint?

I really enjoy and usually will paint concepts and scenes with the greyscale to color approach. I've always had a much easier time seeing depth, lighting, and the scene as a whole when it is composed in greyscale. For me, it all comes together first that way, and then I start thinking about color. I will always add accents separate from the greyscale in color (whether that be additional ambiance lighting/highlights or other elements). I also like having two versions of a complete drawing: a greyscale with nice values, tones and lighting and then a colored version if I choose to.

For me, putting a colored art to greyscale using a filter doesn't capture the same feeling. Some artists dislike the greyscale to color method because it feels as if you're drawing the same piece twice. I personally love it as it challenges the way I see the art in both ways.

That all said, for landscape studies I might dive right into color if I know what look I am trying to achieve. This is most comfortable when I’m doing speedpaints or freedraws (semi-speed). The Bejorh Environment is a good example (https://www.deviantart.com/thebridgebeyond/art/Bejorh-environment-869607503)

 When did you learn to draw?

Like many artists, I started drawing when I was a child. Back then, I usually looked at something I liked (book cover art, a photo, etc) and I would just free hand. Eventually I’d draw so many of the same subjects that I scribbled them in my free time. I drew a lot of dragons, cats, and wolves. Eventually I began to learn from others and pick up on some of their own techniques in my own way. I was involved in many friend-artist groups growing up which was certainly fun and helpful.

 -What is your favorite piece you’ve drawn so far?

I still very much like ‘Portal’ (https://www.deviantart.com/thebridgebeyond/art/Portal-833615032) because of what it means personally, but ‘Biding Time’ (https://www.deviantart.com/thebridgebeyond/art/Biding-Time-840941505) is a very close second mostly because it feels very “zhuardy”, and by that usually I mean a sense of unease when looking at the species; even to other zhuards when approaching an unknown individual. However, to most non-zhus, this feeling is probably a lot more warranted! The asymmetry of his face is another factor that may tell you something is not quite right with this creature, and yet, he in turn breaks your boundary by reaching out. I cannot guarantee non-creepy zhuard drawings, as they are what they are…but this drawing really does illustrate all the right things, in my opinion!

 -How many w.i.ps do you take on?

I constantly write 'to-do' lists or plans for my art. I usually have two or three digital w.i.ps siting, and with occasionally one or two traditional art siting in a sketchbook. Often times, I do not get to some things on my 'to-do' list for many months…and some are left as is. As long as the concept was sketched, I might leave it alone until a time where I want to work on it.

It also all depends on what's going on in my life, but having the list at least keeps me on track for things I'd really want to see finished, even if it takes many months. I also tend to have new projects pop up in my mind midway through, so I'll hold off on them- to see if they're worth my time- or if it's something simple that can be done in a day...I just see it to completion, and continue on with the previous works. The way my mind works is a curse of badly executed multitasking ha...

 -Do you have any interest in becoming an animal artist?

I’ve been dedicated to focusing my understanding of the concepts in the soulscape- Issuhiro- and zhuards. Can I draw other animals?  Absolutely. Other creatures are often seen in the event of a commission, gift art or spur of the moment art. I typically use animals as references, but over the many years of drawing, the desire to make them subjects in finished art has waned.

Art takes a lot out of me at times (not so much in a bad way), and I rather spend that energy remembering, and artistically immortalizing zhuards and Issuhiro. Those subjects give me a deeper sense of purpose and drive than drawing animals from earth. The personal connection safe for a few animals, is lacking and I'd rather not waste energy needed elsewhere.

I notice you tend to focus on one or few individuals in your art- why is that?

Personally, I feel with less subjects there’s more emotion and gravity to an individuals actions or feelings. I tend to focus on those aspects and what I am feeling from said individual(s). I also simply find it easier to keep my mind on track when there’s not a huge crowd of subjects.

 What was the strangest thing you've heard as a compliment towards your art /style:

That it reminded them of and seemed quite lovecraftian, which was interesting, as I don't see many of those elements personally. Time and time again I’ve heard “dark", “unsettling” to describe my gallery. I guess I find those as a compliment because- as said before- zhuards in themselves are usually described as such, as well as certain elements of Issuhiro and the greater Spiral realm.  Although since I don't really intend to start drawing with ‘scary' themes, it seems that my understanding has translated into my art and style. Yes then, Issuhiro can be very unsettling, but some parts can look quite nice and scenic.

How do you organize your sketchbooks and art? What content do you fill your sketchbooks with?

Organization and compartmentalizing is something I am on top of concerning creativity (sadly not much else haha…)

I usually organize my sketchbooks by date worked on. I tend to keep a large and small sketchbook simultaneously: the larger one usually has more complete drawings or ref-like material, the smaller sketchbook might have complete art but tends to have more scribbled studies and fragmented concepts. Often times when I sketch digitally, or finish a traditional piece digitally, I’ll print it out and put it in either sketchbook depending on belonging. The way I see it, my sketchbooks are beginning to look more like a mixed media scrapbook at times. I usually upload my sketchbook art depending on completion of the art itself (I leave the scribbles and bits of concepts as ‘sketchbook only' most times).

Digitally, I have many sections and folders for specific purposes. They are under the main folder of ‘art'  but are separated in sub folders  (general art by year, animations, zhuard-specific, etc). This makes things easier for me to navigate.

Zhuard specific AMAs:

Why don't zhuards have a full set of external armor?

Knowing why the Taiber'su decided not to give zhuards or any of their creatures full armor can be traced to their architectural technology. They were the first advanced beings to shape shirkra (a non-natural metal) which formed their empire. Shirkra is a natural attractant of a transformative energy-a mimic called domruku. However, it was also used as a barrier (a partial or complete stalwart) by pitting ‘fire against fire' actively canceling out most other elements or deflecting them. All that to say shirkra was much more valuable from the energy it could collect, which could be manipulated.

The Taiber'su interwove their knowledge of technology into their biological engineering. The creatures were designed to protect their empire using everything available to them. This included the use of shirkra in their very bodies—which was also something naturally occurring in the fauna there as well. Their musculature was adept in resilience, muscle cells modified with that of shirkra was essentially a superior biological armor without need for actual armor or overly plated hide. Swords would snap all the same (or fail to slice), and medium artillery would perhaps leave a bruise.

A full set of armor would have been redundant given what is known about domruku: it could ‘provide’ its own defenses when skillfully used. Armor has holes and weaknesses, limiting mobility and deftness…and such was the mindset of the Taiber'su. The metallic-shirkra shield for the face of a zhuard is more a measure of identification than protection.

What is the hardest part of drawing zhuard for you, and what have you heard others say is the hardest part?

They certainly aren’t easy to draw. I’ve seen some people struggle with their neck, I’ve seen issues with their hindlegs (not built overly flexed, but also not ‘runner’ straight)--there’s a lot I can touch upon. The main challenge is their feet in particular and the bones within them. I call zhu paws X-ray paws, as the bones are so prominent and large that you might as well be looking at an x-ray of them. Some zhuard individuals might have extra ridged phalange bones, so their structure is not quite typical to start. Add to the fact that the thumb of the zhuard is hyperflexible and faces backwards in resting state---it’s a lot to take in just with their paws.

For me, it’s just yet another thing to keep in mind that I can’t rely on referencing animals 100% as much as I’d love to. I think in general that has always been the hardest part for me.

All of the above simply should drive home the fact that zhus were ‘stitched together’ from different creatures of their homerealm. Anatomically, zhuards are hard to wrap ones mind around. I often tell those who want to draw them to simply ‘draw what feels right or looks right to you’.

 Do mini zhus have the spunkiness of a pony?

This question is from a fellow equestrian for sure haha- I actually get a bit of questions like this.  Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately for us) all zhuards have their own quirks, I can’t say mini zhus—class three zhus—behave any different.

Speaking of equestrian questions:

Would zhuards be comfortable to ride—if they let you?

This is actually one of the most common questions I get from anyone- it’s amusing. If an individual did let you climb aboard and you’re totally fearless by how far up from the ground you are, you’ll probably find the ride uncomfortable. Zhuards, unlike horses, have much greater points of flexibility along their spines- akin to felines. You would have to absorb a ridiculous amount of movement in your abdomen to stay centered, and knowing how sore people can get on horses, it’s safe to say you might get seriously hurt attempting to sit on a zhuard. As in, tearing your muscles.

That said, the Taiber’su that rode zhuards rode them more or less in a two-point position. Their legs were made for riding zhus. For a small human, the ups and downs of a zhuards gaits would be nauseating at best but if you are an iron stomach, roller coaster riding, bucking bronc champ (try riding Yévonne lol), you could go along decently!

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I would like to thank you all for the questions you’ve given me! It’s been a nice challenge to pick my brain with this type of introspection and the Q&A in itself was very fun to do!