#hopefully people can see my artistic vision

[33-16]

now that my dream podium has been achieved (lestappen + their son), i have a new drama: max, charles and pierre.

[aphroditesmoon]

lacrymosa [part 1]

clarisse la rue x fem!hecatecabin!reader [boarding school au]

PART 2

summary: you were sent to a prestigious boarding school to be rid from your father as a burden, but when strange things begins to happen upon your arrival, you wonder what truly lies behind the school walls. And as you attract attention from an infamous student, your plans to lie low is disrupted for the semester.

warnings: basically pjo plot in a different font, wlw relationships and what that entails, artist!reader. warnings will be according to the chapter.

wc: 5.2k

a/n: part 2 will hv more clarisse, also I've never been good at finishing series, but here's to an attempt! Comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

The violent wind coming from outside of the car window sent a sharp shiver down your spine. You readjust your sitting position, pushing your school bag further away from you.

"Would you like to close the window, miss?" The driver asked, sparing a glance to your way. "No, it's fine." You assured him.

You have always liked the cold, it calms your nerves in a way. And for a day like this, you need all the help you can get.

Your father hadn't even been home to see you off for the last time. But you were kind of grateful for that. Usually you'd find it upsetting. But it was a clear decision that he purposely wanted you out of his line of vision when he had registered you into this boarding school.

Prestigious and highly acclaimed, he called it. Those were just polite words for strict and overbearing.

You have stopped wasting time trying to figure out why he hates you. Your mother dying from your birth was only the tip of the iceberg. Your whole existence is a burden to him, no matter how hard you've tried to change it.

I wonder if I'll even miss the hostility he's always given me, or the empty white walls of his mansions that have seen me at my worst and at my best. Those thoughts shouldn't matter anymore, you told yourself.

You've never been happy in that house, but familiarity, sometimes, was better than nothing. You fiddled with your crimson red tie that came with the uniform. What you could tell from the way you're dressed along with the down payment your father had to pay for you is that this place is an exaggerated babysitting place for rich kids with attitude problems.

You've been sent to many places away from your father. Summer camp, Spring camp, summer school and all that. But nothing this far away.

As per your research, the school seemed to be located far from the city and near the mountains up north. There are two buildings divided by gender that stands a few meters away from each other. Not that it'd be a problem for you. You've never been interested in boys much.

It was sunny earlier on the road, but the nearer you are to your destination, the cloudier the sky gets. "Looks like it's about to rain." You mumbled to yourself.

"That's normal here, miss. The weather here's always cold." The driver spoke from the front. You hadn't realized that he heard what you said.

It was a few minutes later when you finally see a large building from a distance. The view lived up to it's reputation even from a far. You feel your heart sinking into a stomach, the anxiety worsening.

This was it. This will be your home for the next 2 or 3 years.

Your driver speeds up once drizzling rain begins to fall down from the sky. You allow him to close the window from his seat and lower down the ac.

Feeling your fingers pruning up, you rub your palms together for warmth after reaching for your bag, pulling it closer to you.

The weather wasn't going to be a problem, and hopefully the people here won't be too.

---

When the car slowed down in front of the entrance, you let yourself take in the view of it all, girls ranging from your ages to younger, walking past of sitting by the stairs. All of them wearing the same thing that you are.

You didn't mean to make the driver open the door for you, but he did anyways as you're too distracted to stop him.

He moves straight to the back to retrieve your other bags as you step out of the vehicle. Some of the girls stopped and stared at you, knowing how rare it is to have new students here.

You couldn't tell what lies behind their long glares and gazes, but you had a feeling that they were eyeing you up like a predator does to their prey. Focusing on the large cream and white colored building staring you down, your heart whispered out a hopeful wish that you could just get back in the car and drive off.

You fix up your plaited skirt and turn towards your driver. "Do you need help to bring these in?" He asks.

You shook your head, immediately taking them into your hands. "No, I got it. But thank you." He smiled warmly as he shut the car hood close. "Have a great year, miss." He tells you politely before walking back to the driver's seat.

And that was the last familiar face you'll ever see for the rest of the semester. You lift up your hand in a tiny wave as you watch him reverse and drive off from the school ground.

You see him wave back before he finally disappears for good.

The staircase made it harder for you and your bags, and if you were expecting any kind eyes to offer some help, none came to it. Instead they all looked at you like you were stupid.

You counted the steps under your breath, stopping when you reached number 5, and then starting back again from 1. It was also an effort to keep your anxiety together, but at certain times like these, you wondered if breathing exercises are all lies made up by a psychiatrist to worsen someone symptom and continue to drive them crazy.

After a couple series of 1 to 5s, you finally made it to the top of the stairwell and into the open doors of the school.

If the rain outside hadn't been freezing your toes, inside was much more brutal. The school is air conditioned, of course it is.

When you said you liked cold, you didn't mean the frozen kind. The strawberry pink socks you're wearing aren't doing you any favors either as you breath out a tired sigh, full hands dragging your bags with you until you reach a tiny counter with the label "office" above the glass.

A teacher, or a guardian, sits inside, working on some paperwork. She looked up when she heard the rolling sound of the wheels on your bag and offered a small smile.

"You're new here, I take it?" You nodded your head and pursed your lips tightly. "Can I have your name?"

You gave her the information needed, from yoir name to your birth certificate. And once she's done compiling the necessary paperworks into a file, she stacks it in the shelves behind her.

"Here's your class schedule, and here's your dorm key." You slid the key onto your pocket and slipped the paper under your arms as you listened to her explaining how the dorm building is in a complete other side of this place, and that you'd have to drag your bags back down the lengthy staircase and walk another 6 minutes towards the other building on the left of the school. Not to be mistaken with the boy's dorms on the right.

You ignored the continuous staring from the other student as you forced yourself down again, and into the left.

The road to the dorm was nicely designed, a straightly drawn black and white concrete pavement in squares with grass on its side. It made the place look more homely. But of course, it wasn’t really gonna fool anyone.

The dragging became easier on the ground. You thanked the gods once you got to the other building once you spotted an elevator. Your first thought was, oh thank fuck for these rich assholes. And your second thought was, oh these are some real rich assholes.

There are less staring here since mostly everyone is already in school. You took your time walking once you're out of the elevator, reading the large signs of the dorm level names.

There are 20 levels to be accurate. And yours, unfortunately, is level 20.

You stood up straight in that elevator for what felt like a whole 10 minutes until it dinged open. Finding your room was much easier, you didn't have to walk very far to find your door. You used the key given to you to unlock the doors and pushed your bags into the room first before you.

You halted for a minute when you met with two strange girls from the inside.

Your roommates apparently have not gone to their classes yet and are still here. They looked at you expectantly as you stared right back.

"Uh-" your daydreams broke. "I'm new here." You announced.

One of the two laughed slightly and shook their head. "We know, we were waiting for you. I'm Harper, and this is Olivia." They extended their hands and you shook them without question.

"So, where'd you come from?" Olivia asks. She had beautiful green eyes and wavy blonde hair. Harper on the other hand, had dark hair and bold blue eyes. Next to each other, the two looks quite the pair. You began rearranging your bags on your side and taking out important things needed for your classes as you answer their inquiries. "New York."

"A city girl, that's nice. The difference here must be jarring." You snorted whilst you hang your clothes on to your small closet. "Very."

They walked out with you once you were done unpacking, leading you back to the school.

"The teachers won't mind you being late, with you being new and all that. But make a habit out of it and you'll get a penalty for it." Harper explained. "Penalty?"

They both nodded and kept on walking up towards the entrance. "Attendance is very important, this isn't public school, lying about health problems to get out of class or skip and disappear for more than 3 times, you could get expelled."

That is insane, you thought. "I didn't know they're that strict." Harper smirked and shrugged at that. "Yeah, I mean unless you're a legacy student, or your parents donate a lot for the school, you won't get many benefits."

Of course, even among the rich, the most privileged still get to escape justice and fairness. "Are you both legacy students?"

"No." Olivia snorted. "What's your locker number?" She takes a peek at your papers and moved right to your locker, opening it with ease.

"Thanks." You tell her while shoving your books inside of it.

"There aren't many legacy students here." Harper spoke from your side, referring back to your question from earlier.

"There are only certain families with histories deeply rooted within the school walls, like Luke Castellan or Silena.”

Your brows raises at those names as the three of you leaned back on the lockers. "Let me guess, they're brats who can get you expelled?"

"Worse." Olivia corrected with a sarcastic smile. "They can do whatever shit they want to you, and will not get expelled for it."

"But don't worry, half of them are decent, just don't piss them off and they'll leave you alone." You nod in understanding, knowing that it was your plan anyways, even if they hadn't warned you.

"Luke's not even entitled or mean, he's actually pretty nice. He helped me take out a book from the library once." Olivia added, wiggling her brows.

"You're just saying that because you like him." Harper scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Even if I didn't, he's still not an ass." The bell rang the minute her sentence was finished. The two girls groaned and started saying their goodbyes before they parted ways to attend their classes.

"Meet up back for lunch?" Harper initiates. "Sure." You told her before following her directions to pre Calculus.

Your brain still hadn't fully registered what just happened. You just made two new friends, and that is a relief. Though you enjoy your alone time along with some quiet and peace, that doesn't mean you don't get lonely or feel isolated. Having bad social skills doesn't exactly equate to joy wanting a social life at all.

You walk into the half filled classroom and scan the space for an empty seat.

Some kids up front started whispering to themselves as they watched you from the corner of their eyes, but none of them tried speaking to you directly.

You flinch when you heard the teacher's voice, booming through the classroom as she enters right behind you. "You're the new girl?" She drops her bag onto her chair and looked you directly in your eyes.

"Yes." The teacher hummed to herself and turned towards her other students. "Do we have any empty seats at the back?" She asks loudly.

"There's one, but it's Chase's." A boy responded. "He's not in today, is he?" He shook his head at her.

"Alright, you can sit there temporarily, I'll ask the boys to bring in an extra table and chair for you tomorrow." You thanked her and walked right to your seat.

Grateful to be seated at the last row by the window, you slumped against the chair, relaxing your back.

The kids at the front stop wasting their time twisting their heads to stare at you, and as the class begins, you tell yourself that maybe this isn't as bad as you thought it'd be.

-

Your first class ever had been less exciting than expected. You had spent the last 20 minutes of the class trying not to doze off.

Barely any sleep came to you last night, considering how nervous you were for this day. All the worries you've had were for nothing, so far it's all been a bore, and all you wanted to do was to crawl back on to your bed at home and escape all of this strangeness.

Get your shit together, you scolded yourself. You've been all alone your whole life, how different is it now?

The girl on the seat next to yours had craned her neck in your direction, trying to peek through your notebook. Instinctively, you closed over it with your arm.

She did not need to see how there are zero equations in your notebook, all replaced with doodles of flowers and frogs.

When all is hopeless, your passion is where you turn to. Life is suffering in parts, but you find that being able to make it into art, makes the suffering less painful, or at least, more manageable.

Your father had never liked how you prefer to spend your time in art class over piano. In fact, when you were much younger, he even took the initiative to throw out all of your sketchbook. You had to find time to practice your drawing when you aren't at home, knowing his ignorance for your privacy.

But here, hopefully, you'll have ample time to draw and paint.

Once the class is dismissed, you make your way straight into the bathroom, trying to get into a booth before it gets crowded. You caught a glimpse of your reflection from the mirror and cringed at yourself. For some reason, even when you're not doing anything, the school air still finds a way to turn your hair frizzy.

You ran into the small space with open doors and knocked it shut as soon as you're in.

You could hear footsteps entering in right after you're done peeing. A cacophony of running sink water and empty chatter fills your ears as you stood up to fix your skirt and your socks.

The zip of your skirt seemed to have an issue getting stuck on a piece of string, holding it back from fully zipping up. You lifted it up higher and pulled the string out before using your teeth to rip it off of the zip and waving it onto the floor.

There was a moment of silence outside the door just before you were going to exit it. But a loud sound of slamming doors and laughter stops you at your place.

"Lock the doors." You hear another female voice command. She was not shouting, but she had a bold voice that seemed fit for a leader, straight to the point and confident.

Any noise of giggling or chatting immediately died down the moment the girl and her friends stepped in, and now you wonder if getting out would be a good idea at all. So you stayed quiet inside the bathroom.

Your palms are held against the door while you lean into it, trying to hear her clearer.

"What did I tell you last week?" The girl spoke again. She sounded upset or the second worst thing, disappointed.

Another voice rose up in response, meeker in comparison. "You said to have it by Monday."

"It's Wednesday today."

"But I have it now!" The other girl pleaded. "I don't care. I asked for it on Monday, you're two days late." The silence that came after her words was worrying. It was only when she spoke again that you felt your racing heart slowing down.

"You know what you're gonna do right now?" She asks. Silence. "You're going to hand me the money, and then you're going to give me 20 on the ground, right here."

20 what? You frowned in confusion. Money?

You expected resistance, begging, or even defiance from the other girl, but you only heard a resigned sigh from the other side of the door.

The door creaked slightly. You tried to balance yourself away from it when you accidentally slipped. Your fingers reach for the door handle to pull yourself up, and just when you thought it couldn't get worse, the door slams back on its hinges. You cursed yourself internally.

"What the fuck." The first girl snapped. "Booth number 2." She called out. "Get out of there right now or I'll break the door now."

Your breath hitches at the direct interaction and your hands hesitate to unlock the booth. But you'd rather get it over with than risk being taunted in a toilet.

You unlatch the lock with your fingers and slowly pull open the door. The first face you're met with is the one you assume who had addressed you seconds ago.

She had a naturally terrifying expression, with her brows knitted together and her hair pulled up in a ponytail. The bronze skinned girl connecting her gaze to yours.

The staring did not last as she soon started eyeing you up and down like she's analyzing every bad decision you've ever made.

But when she lifts her head back up to your face, you noticed that her frowning had lessened slightly. "You're new." She states aloud.

"How'd you know?" You ask her. "Anyone who's been here for more than a week would have the mind to run out of the bathroom as soon as they heard me." She answered coolly, taking a few steps nearer to you.

"What's your name?" She asks you. You tell her your first name.

She hums in acknowledgement before repeating your name, letting the syllables roll against her tongue. "I assume you haven't been making any friends yet, have you?"

You tried not to look to her side at the girl that was currently half squatting on the floor. "You're making her do push ups." You think aloud, ignoring her question.

"What? Oh, her? She's not important, and she's lucky i’m only making her do 25." The girl waved off like it's a silly joke. "I thought you said 20?" The other girl muttered under her breath.

She snapped her head at the younger girl and glared at her. "One more word and I'll make it 30."

Turning her head back to you, the anger she bore dissolved. "It's a good thing you've met me," she started. "In this place, it's all about making the right type of friends, just in case and not enemies."

"I don't plan on making enemies." You tell her. She was trying to intimidate you. Or at least, ruffle your feathers.

"No one does, but they just do it anyways without realizing." She answers with a shrug.

"And I suppose, if I'm with you, I won't fall down that road?" You didn't mean for it to sound insulting or sarcastic, but when she raised a brow in response, a ghost of smirk over her face, you realized that it was too late to take back your words.

"No, you won't. Because I am that enemy that you should be avoiding." You wondered if she is one of those people that's all talk and no bite, but the way she's folding her arms together as she stands inches away from you, radiated something much more sinister than you'd expect from a typical bully.

"I have to go." You say suddenly, a sense of urgency filled you when you remembered that Harper and Olivia would be waiting for you in the cafeteria. "I won't tell anyone about this." You added, trying to make sure there'd be no bad blood between the two of you.

"You can tell anyone you'd like, it wouldn't matter." She replies, stepping away from you to lean her back on the sink counter.

You clicked your heels away from her and made your way out, taking off the locks before you could swing the door open. You could feel her gaze on you as you left, but didn't twist your head back to confirm.

It didn't matter who she was. A few hours from now you'd forget you even met her, and just like always, you'll blend in with the crowd and be out of her sight.

---

"Where have you been?" Harper inquired once you sat next to her.

She had half a donut in her mouth as she asked this. "Don't talk with your mouth full." You chided her. She groans and mumbles something else you can't understand but chews the food until she's finished before she speaks again.

"We waited for like 10 minutes, you know recess isn't that long." You took a bite of your own sandwich and shrugged at her like nothing. "I was in the bathroom, there was a line." Harper nodded in understanding, but Olivia made a face of disgust as she toyed with her food.

"I hate the bathroom here, the dorm bathrooms are better." She said.

"What if you really need to pee?" You ask in disbelief. "I hold it in."

"What if you had explosive diarrhea?"

"Well, that would suck." Harper chokes out laugh, trying not to spit out her donut. You joined her with a chuckle, shaking your head at your friend.

"Your fear of public bathrooms will be the death of you." Harper quipped after taking a long sip of water. "I think it makes me stronger." Olivia argues.

"Well, I think it's gonna mess with your bladder." The brunette argues back. You listen to their back and forth until the bell rings again, indicating the end of recess.

You were a bit bummed that your classes aren't aligned with theirs, your nerves are much less triggered when they're around, a sense of familiarity of a sort.

Though, there was nothing you can do about it. You say your goodbyes at your lockers and parted ways again for your last 2 classes. The rest of school time was made bearable with the reminder that you at least shared rooms with your two new friends, and so there was nothing to worry about at all actually.

A part of you feels safer when you're around them. Though your mind is constantly bringing up the girl you've met in the bathroom. Her brown eyes and the way she looked at you.

She didn't strike you as someone admirable, but you had to admit, her features were remarkable. You had pulled out a pencil and a paper for a quick sketch of her eyes during Literature class.

It only hit you then, that you haven't even asked for her name. She knew yours, but you didn't know hers.

What would it matter? You asked yourself. If all goes well, you'll never see her for the whole semester at all. And she'd be nothing more than another face in your sketchbook.

You paid attention to the lesson, but your hands just needed something to work on while you were listening. Tapping your fingers repeatedly on the table was getting old, so you got productive and drew up a little something.

You had managed only half of her face on the paper by the time the class ended. Slipping the book into your tote bag, you follow the rush of students leaving class and heading back to your locker to switch your books for the last class.

-

It was 8pm when you were finally in the dorm elevator, back against the cold silver metal, relieving the warmth that radiated off of your body. The gym here is open all day and night, and even if the only equipment they had was a treadmill, you intended to utilise them fully.

Working out helps to take your mind off things, and it tires you out enough to help you sleep easier at night.

And so while everyone went back to their dorms, you stashed your bag by the gym entrance and tied your hair back up and went ahead for a good 40 minutes run.

You kept your eyes on the elevator level, watching the number get higher and higher until it eventually reached 20. It dinged open and allows you out with your poor tired feet and worn out expression.

It was quiet on the top floor, nothing like you’d predict what with the hour still being early. The small light bulbs above your head led you straight down the long corridor until you reached your room.

You took out your key and slashed it into the keyhole and heard your friends’ voices evolving from muffled noises into a clearer state as you pushed the door open.

You expected the girls to scold you over your absence again, as you do make it a habit of going places without letting them know, but what you didn't expect once you enter your dorm room, is for them to genuinely fret over your late arrival.

"You can't just disappear without telling anyone!" Olivia exclaimed, her large green eyes staring into your soul as you took your uniform off. "I was at the gym." You explained.

“In your school clothes?” Harper scrunches her nose in disagreement. “Hey, it's convenient.” You retorted.

"Were there other people there?" You shook your head no. "Well, maybe next time we'll go with you. I know you're not used to the unspoken rules here, but there are seriously more creeps than you can imagine in this place."

They were both sitting on their beds as they're talking to you, fully dressed in their matching pajamas like twins.

Harper had a face mask on as she rested her head on her pillows, her elbows used to help her sit up. They had music playing in the background, a song you recognized as Tourniquet by Evanescence. “I love this song.” You say randomly.

“Don’t change the subject.” You look over at them in confusion once you're finished changing.

"I didn't know it'd be such a big deal, I'm doing what everyone else does."

"I know, but I'm just saying, maybe we should all just play it safe for the semester. We don’t want another Samara accident." Harper reasoned.

You walked over to sit by the edge of her bed and asked her who's Samara.

"Samara Turner. She's a senior from last year. Some kid found her passed out by the back garden, her eyes were rolled back, and she was basically frothing from the mouth. When the ambulance came, it was too late. She was gone."

“Are you just making this up to scare me?” You ask them suspiciously. “No!” Olivia denies. “It's a real story, the teachers covered it up real good for future students, not even the news got a hold of Samara's fate.”

"Does anyone know what really happened?" You questioned them.

"The police ruled it as an overdose, but I can't imagine any type of drug running through her veins. And also, in the garden? That's just weird." Olivia says, shaking her head in disbelief.

"You guys think someone drugged her?" Harper shrugged and pursed her lips, inconclusive.

"Either way. It happened when she was alone. What was she even doing in the garden late at night? No one knows. But everyone will point their finger right back at her and say it's her own fault." You understood what they meant. This place isn't as picture perfect as it seemed, just like any other place, it has its holes and flaws.

"Okay, the next time I'm going anywhere other than my classes, I'll let one of you know." Harper and Olivia smiled and looked relieved. You could tell they were satisfied by your answer. "And if we're going anywhere, we'll tell you."

"Okay." You assured them.

You've never really known what it was like to have people worry over you this way. Most of the time, people were grateful when you minded your own business and hid away. And sure there is a little bit of annoyance that comes with being scolded like a child, but it also felt good to have someone care for you this way.

You folded your knees onto your chest, repositioning yourself on her bed. It is only after you move closer to her that you notice your sketchbook on her side table.

"Where'd you find that?" You jolted up, eyes widening..

"Oh, this is another thing we wanted to ask you about." Harper exclaimed, stretching her arm towards the book and passing it over to you. "Clarisse came over here like 15 minutes ago, said you dropped this."

"Who's Clarisse?" You frowned.

"Oh that's funny, you don't know who Clarisse is, and yet she's talking about you like you've been friends for ages." Harper says it like a mother hen catching her daughter red handed, but you're only further confused.

"No, seriously. Who's Clarisse?"

Olivia sighed from her bed and waved her hand exaggeratedly. "Curly hair, dark skin, looks like she can dropkick you in 6 different ways." Instantly, something in your brain clicked.

"Oh, her." Their expression changed into curiosity as they await for you to add more.

"I...met her in the bathroom. She was making a kid do pushups. But we barely talked, I just left."

"Yeah well, she asked where you were when she came by, and we told her we didn't know. And then she gave me this." You opened the book and found that the page with her face on has been ripped away.

Something eats away at your heart when you saw the torn pages, but you said nothing and instead just tossed the book onto your own bed. "What's her deal anyways." You huffed.

"Legacy students, they're all a little entitled like that, her more than others." Olivia answered.

"Oh, she's entitled alright." You muttered to yourself and rolled your eyes.

"I think I'm just gonna go catch up on homework now, unless there's anything else you two want to nag me on." Harper snorted and shoved you playfully but still smiled.

"No, no more nagging." Olivia concluded.

[darqx]

HEEEY MACARENA (ALRIGHT!)

Here's some long overdue BP and HH asks :) I tend to combine the two since there's not as many as the RADs, so this starts with BP and then moves into HH/Gen qs.

BP

MUAH ~ (I actually doodled this some time last year for fun and whimsy, based on those long mouth kiss meme pics XD)

A very quick overview of these types!

Vescordem: Maneaters/cannibals, excessively tall and strong.

Aleores: Minor dealmakers (goods and services). Jaw can unhinge and has venomous bite.

Sollicio: Major dealmakers - soul stealing ability. Often very good looking, has ichor powers.

Voxter: Ability to project 'thoughts' into someone else's mind - you ever have an intrusive thought? Same concept. All have a unique mark across the top part of their face.

Caumacies: Maneaters/cannibals, very strong. Has a third eye which sees only in heat vision - rarely opened simultaneously with normal eyes.

Hmm M or MA15 i think 🤔

You know, i actually have an idea for a game that has nothing to do with anything I'm currently doing XD One day i'll actually have time to make it, maybe. But anyway currently my actual project is i'm planning on making a comic \o/

I AM PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE that i have thumbnailed like 70 pages of this bloody thing and i'm still only in the first quarter of the planned chapters lol OTL Once i finish thumbing the chapter I'm on I plan to go back and render the pages properly before starting to post them :D

...which should hopefully give me a buffer as i repeat the process for the next chapters |D

You know, the concept of my characs being comfort characs for someone will never get old for me. It just tickles me pink ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ This answer will have two levels to it.

It's fine to RP or ask blog with Rire - he's one of my more "known" characs thanks to BTD so as long as credit is given (and it's made clear I'm not running the blog so it's not canon) then it's cool.

I'd prefer if no ask/RP blogs are created for any of my other BP or HH characs, as they are not as known yet. This may be revisited once i actually get the BP comic out but for now it's a no, sorry! (Though, if you are RPing in like...a private Discord with other friends who know who the characs are then I'm a bit more lenient with that.)

The reason for the BP/HH level is that ages ago when I had started establishing my own characs more, I randomly happened to find a forum where someone was RPing as Izm and .D but no one else knew who the characs were and so they clearly thought the RPer was the original artist and creator. Said RPer was not dissuading anyone of that notion. That has stuck with me for forever because at the time i never anticipated that someone would...actually try and do that with an OC. Like, bro srsly?!

One pet peeve for everyone:

.D: Willfully stupid people

Izm: .D smoking. He could care less if anyone else smokes but .D is not allowed on his watch

Marcus: Having decisions made for him without his input

Zeke: "How's the weather up there?"

Wei Ren: When people think he can't understand English cos he has an accent and so they deliberately speak slower and louder

Geez Caleb why are you damn RUDE

Here's one i prepared earlier! 😌

I'm not sure why you included Marcus as a demon, he's a human lol.

HH/More Gen

There are clubs which are created by students but need approval from the adults to exist.

HH is one of the better boarding schools which generally turn out successful alumni. The "obvious problems" we see are not actually obvious lol.

He doesn't need such manipulations.

Thanks! I hope you are inspired to go forth and create stuff! :D

One of the only perks of being a prefect at HH, really :d

Absolutely not lol

↓

4. These types of qs are always amusing to me only because you guys expect me to know but i absolutely do not XDD. Do normal people actually have a fave animal?? I dont even have a fave animal!! Anyway offshoot aside sorry that i can't even randomly assign anything, but if you are interested here is what they might be AS animals lol.

They actually don't have names because they were randomly designed NPCs i drew as like, placeholders |D;

Not including Rire or Nurse Isla:

.D is asexual, Izm is bisexual, and everyone else is straight probably. Caleb and Desmond are violently straight (as in Des is like very 90s stoner bro adamantly vocal about being straight and Caleb will actually try and break your neck for insinuating anything).

I have some female characs but I dont draw them that often as they are more side characs in BP and HH. The ones ive's drawn at least once are Isla (who looks like this, also doodled above), Tish (Des's sister) and Kenzie and Kelly (Zeke's sisters).

Every once in a blue moon i get an ask saying this but whenever i go to check nothing is wrong, so...nothing is wrong they do work |D; As the age old tech saying goes have you tried turning it off and on again? :d

Aren't those kind of things supposed to be...based on yourself??

[friskyrisk]

[BIG BOY POST + I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING DON'T LISTEN TO ME] I have to preface this with a HUGEEE disclaimer that an unhealthy workplace is never acceptable, and that the culture of a company being shit is almost *always* the fault and neglect of leadership. That out of the way, as an avid pm fan its impossible to avoid the conversations that have been occurring about PM as a company, and after Ji-Hoon Kim's live stream, these conversations sort of converged on his role in the company and his lack of aptitude as CEO. Second disclaimer, I'm not here to glaze Ji-Hoon as an unassailable god, I think its clear to anyone keeping an eye on whats been happening that he's very suspectable to shitty mistakes. But what's bothered me, and the whole point of this post I guess, is the tone of some of the criticism addressed to him. People have sort of defaulted to the way they talk about every other irresponsible or greedy CEO when talking about him, but I think that misses a lot of important context that's vital to understanding why these things keep happening. Ji-Hoon did not go to university for business communications, or entrepreneurship, or any other fields related to heading a company. Ji-Hoon attended Ajou University for 4 years as a *game developer*, and as a scenario writer for all three PM games, he seemed to have a passion for writing as well. That is to say, Ji-Hoon Kim is an artist. Being a game director and writer are both creative positions, and from my research, he seems to have no prior experience in any other fields. The reason why this distinction is so important is because a lot of the discussion has been directed at PM's treatment of its artists, rightfully so, but its also been tinged by the preconception of CEO's as people who care for profits and growth, often to the detriment of the artists that work under them [A preconception that historically has been proven accurate, BUT only because these people are brought in by a board of directors from the business world] It also largely explains Ji-Hoon's almost nonchalance towards the company, and his controversial statement about wanting to "run it as a club". To many people, this sounded eerily like the corporate "we're all family" excuse that's often given to mistreat workers, but looking at Ji-Hoon's background, and how he started PM as a passion project between 7 people with his scholarship money, as an actual creative, it very much comes across to me as naivety, not malice.

This doesn't abdicate Ji-Hoon completely, and in fact, makes him culpable in other ways. PM has grown to a team of 45 people- its safe to say that it needs leadership from a business savvy, [hopefully] ethical CEO, and that Ji-Hoon simply does not have the tools in his skillset to provide that. However, his work and vision are still vital to Project Moon, and I'd love to see him shift to a position that still has creative control, but that separates him from the business and leadership aspects for the workers and his own good. I'm still quite fond of 300 lunacy man, and I think a CEO as passionate as him has its sets of advantages, but I think he's understandably out of his depth here, and I just hope that a conclusion where all parties are satisfied can reached.

holy yap sesh imma go play demon souls now

[hplonesomeart]

Hey!! So turns out a video I made between a certain “well beloved but highly sensitive/emotionally reactive T.V” and an “orange haired inkling-turned-human” has managed to sweep my YouTube channel and accumulate 100k VIEWS!! THAT’S A LOT OF PEOPLE ACTUALLY?? My most widely viewed video EVER to exist in this moment in time?? AAAAA?? Not even mentioning the various comments and staggering increase in subs! It’s so much more then what I expected or even prepared for—might even be the most impactful thing to happen for me this year <3

…aside from graduating high school + the social connections I’ve been fortunate to make lol

BUT THE POINT IS I’d been closely monitoring the YouTube growth through the entirety of October. It’s make me smile like a dork, gawk in astonishment, dance frantically in my room from the energy boosts, and grow courage to stop being so selective/self-conscious with what I wish to share with the world! It’s kept my ambitions going!

I needed to find some way to celebrate the occasion and express my thanks—because I can’t NOT acknowledge this milestone jksjskp. Typically I try to avoid getting tunnel visioned focusing on the metrics/numbers. Mr. Puzzles had already demonstrated how much those things can mess with the minds of creatives. Caring too much about chasing views or placing your artistic value in attention seeking gets damaging. But at same time…it’s hard to deny the sense of pride the 100k achievement has filled me with. I understand that reaching 100k views doesn’t immediately make me any “better” or “worse” then I was before. I’m still just me! It only helps me feel seen by others—and that’s all I really needed. To hear some nice words & receive reminders that my ideas are cared about. So thank you SMG4 fandom for that, seriously thank you.

Please accept this Mr. Puzzle drawing as a way of sharing the happiness around. He’s so entertaining. Love him for simply existing. So glad we can all collectively be super attached to him (and the rest of the SMG4 cast of course). Can’t wait to see more incredible artworks from the fandom :)

Just incase anyone is confused by my vague description over which “animated video” I’m referring to here—hopefully this photo will help clarify lol. It’s this one!! Sorry about not outright stating the title at the start, I got carried away with writing!!

I’ve been in an odd place mentally when thinking about it. Wondering to myself if any of the attention is deserved considering it’s not even fully colored and could be dismissed as “low effort” content (despite taking several days making it). It’s easy to get into a trap of comparing yourself to others and questioning how much of the videos success is based on your skills, sheer algorithm luck, or only because you used popular characters and catered to a specific fandom. And then judging yourself by looking at other peoples videos. I’ve seen several artists post higher quality works then my own but it somehow gets less views. So why did mine succeed when others (who should have gotten just as much attention if not more) didn’t? Sometimes you feel like you’ve unfairly robbed them of that chance to be seen. However I’ve realized that I can’t ever expect views to be consistent—and comparing is pointless. So why worry about it or feel inadequate? I mean it’s pretty common for funny cat videos to go viral, so who am I to question the system lol. “Popular” YouTube videos can range from a passion project which took 7+ artists…to a clip of Toad singing Chandelier or a nonsensical Vine sketch. Anything can happen when it’s the internet! And just-so-happened my video was chosen. I should stay glad about that and get rid of all the overanalyzing. So that’s what I’ve chosen to do :)

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

hiiii could I request smth w John Bender where he's kinda infamous in the school. Reader and him are maybe assigned on a sculpting project together or something like that, and because of his reputation he expects her to hate him, but she's nothing but nice to him and feels for him because she sees the signs of abuse. One day he seems in an even worse mood than normal and is pretty bruised up (though trying to hide it) and after school when they walk out together she privately broaches the subject, causing him to involuntary have a breakdown/panic attack, which she comforts him through

With some romantic fluff at the end?? Idk ahhhh sorry this is so specific I feel awkward typing this all out 😭 no worries if you can't and have an amazing day/night!

A/N: Wait omg I actually love this???.?? I'll TOTALLY do this!!!!!! Idk how well it'll be cuz I haven't watched Breakfast Club since mid August... but I'll do my best. (Also ty so much for being specific! Helps me out A LOT more!)

Art Class ~ John Bender x !Artist! Reader

Pronouns for Reader: She/Her

Relationship type: Platonic to romantic

Genreal Idea: (Y/N) and John are working on an art project together, and things seem to be going smoothly. A friendship even seems to be blooming. However, one day something seems... off. And (Y/N) seems determined to figure it out.

Content Warnings: John might be out of character, accurate PTSD representation from someone with PTSD, abuse mentioned (but not seen in action), swearing. It's a fic that takes place in the 80s. What do you expect???

(No particular POV)

☆Day 1: Assignment☆

John wasn't exactly the best at art. Shop? He pretty much had that class DOWN. Art? Not so much. So he decided to bite the bullet and just get the class over with. It was only a half-year class anyway. And he needed it to graduate. And in his mind, if he could graduate... he could get the FUCK out of that house. It was a win for him.

He took his spot in the back of the classroom, sunglasses on his face, and leaned back slightly in his chair. He found himself zoning out, wrapping himself around his own head. The thing that pulls him out of his thoughts is the sound of someone clearing their throat. He lifts his sunglasses up slightly on one side, just enough to see who it was. It was a girl with (H/C) hair and (E/C) eyes. Someone he INSTANTLY recognized as (Y/N) (L/N)

He didn't know the girl personally. He just knew OF her, if that makes any sense. He had another class with her, but he couldn't tell you what class it was. His school schedule mostly just blurred together if he was being honest. But every time he'd stolen a quick glance at her or whenever she was just simply in his line of vision, she always had her nose in either a book or a sketchbook. No in between. Occasionally, she was seen doing homework, but the rest of the time, it was drawing or reading.

"Can I help you?" He asks, a little snappier than he'd intended. Before he had a chance to mutter a quick apology and try again, she speaks.

"We were assigned to do the sculpting project together?" She says, unfazed by the snappy tone. It was the first time she'd ever spoken. Or... at least the first time John had ever heard her speak. Not nessicarily what he expected, but- God that sounds so fucking weird.

"Oh," He says, feeling kinda stupid. She just sits down, setting her bag down beside her, fishing around for what he assumed was her sketchbook. He decides to speak again, hopefully making some form of small talk to make up for the snappiness of before. "(Y/N), right?" He found himself bewildered at his own behavior. He normally never found himself feeling bad about his attitude or behavior. And here he was, feeling like a douche for slightly snapping at her.

"Yes," She says. "You perfer John or Bender?" She asks, grabbing a pencil and sliding it over to him, John stopped it with his forefinger. "I hear people call you both."

"I don't care." He says simply, watching her grab her sketchbook.

"Alright, John, it is." She says. "So, were you paying attention to the teacher, or do you have any idea what we're doing for the next..." She thinks for a moment, tapping her pencil eraser to the paper. "Week or so?" John's silence speaks more than if he'd simply said that he didn't. "We're doing a sculpting project." She says.

"Ah, I see." He says, twirling the pencil in his fingers.

"So I was thinking we could possibly get a rough idea before we actually dive in, yeah?" She says, flipping through her sketchbook. John gets some glimpses of her art, mesmerized by her work. She flips to the next blank page, writing at the top "PROJECT IDEAS".

The two plan, and by the two, (Y/N) mostly talked, and John just kinda nodded and went along with it.

At the end of class, (Y/N) gave John her phone number so they could stay in contact about the project. And the two went their separate ways for the day.

☆Day 3: Even More Sketching, Some Potential Friendship Forming☆

"How the hell do you understand this?" John asks, cracking his knuckles. "I barely understand 90% of this class." The girl in front of him simply chuckles.

"I've done this for a LONG while, John." She says. Most people just called him Bender, so hearing her call him John made him feel... nice? He didn't know, feelings are weird, and that wasn't a rabbit hole he really wanted to go down today.

"I've noticed." John says as the two work. "I hardly ever see you without that little sketchbook of yours." The two continue to work before John breaks the silence between the two.

"Ya know... I don't actually hate this." He says quietly, mostly to himself. (Y/N) hums in response.

"You say sumthin?" She asks, looking up at him. John feels heat rise to his face as he clears his throat, making up something on the spot.

"I-I said that I'm surprised you don't hate me." He says smoothly, covering up his little embarrassing moment.

"Why would I do that?" She asks, her eyes going back down to the large(ish) lump of clay infront of her as she rolls up her sleeves. The two converse back and forth while they do their project.

"Hey, so I was thinking." (Y/N) says before class ends. "Since we are a tad behind, we could possibly stay after school one of these days to get some extra work in."

"That works for me." John says, hand in his pocket. "When were you thinking?"

"Would you be able to do Thursday?" She asks. John thinks for a moment.

"Yeah, I can do that." John says.

"Sweet." She says as the bell rings. She puts the stuff they were using away and grabs her bag. "See ya."

John, left slightly speechless and red faced, blinks a few times before mumbling a "Yeah, see ya."

☆~☆

John was practically counting down the hours until he'd be able to work with (Y/N) after school. The fact that he was counting the hours down both disgusted and fascinated him. It was an odd combo that he really wasn't familiar with, nor had a desire to be familiar with.

(Y/N) had been nothing but the kindest soul to him. Did it make sense to him? No. Was he gonna ruin it by saying something? ... Also no.

☆Day 6: After School Work and a Walk Home☆

(Y/N) instantly knew something was up the second she set her stuff down. The air felt thicker around John, who was clearly pissed. The two didn't really talk, as (Y/N) detected he wasn't really in that mood. However, this didn't stop her from sliding a little slip of paper towards him.

John unfurled it: "You good? You seem a lot more angry than norma." John bit a small corner of his mouth until he could taste his own blood before responding verbally.

"It's not any of your business." He responds. The girl simply sighs softly, the two going back to the project. A few bruises poke out from under John's jacket sleeve, and (Y/N)'s heart instantly aches. She knew EXACTLY what was going on.

At the end of class, (Y/N) puts stuff away before asking John: "You still down to stay after?" She asks, her voice a bit softer than normal. John simply mumbles a "Yeah, whatever" and is out of the door.

☆~☆

(Y/N) sat on a desk as she ate a granola bar, waiting for John. Sure enough, there he was. He tossed his stuff at his normal desk, not really caring if anything was damaged.

"Ya know, we can reschedule if you're not doing the best." She says, doing her best not to sound rude or condescending.

"I'm fine, (Y/N)!" John says, slightly snappier than normal. "God, will you get off my back, please?" (Y/N), taken slightly aback, simply nods her head and the two get to work.

☆~☆

The two walk out of the school in silence. John feels like an absolute dick. He shouldn't have snapped at (Y/N). He's mad at his dad, not her. He can't bring himself to apologize though.

For once, it's (Y/N) who breaks the dense silence. "John, you don't have-"

"For fucks sake, I'm FINE, woman!" He snaps, turning to her. "God take the fucking hint?! Try that!" (Y/N) blinks a few times. She takes a lot, but that wasn't something she was gonna take. Regardless of what he was currently going through.

"Listen, John. I get you're in a bad mood. And you don't have to tell me why." She says. "But it's obvious you're not-"

"I'M FINE, (Y/N)!" He says, his voice shaking with unnessicary rage. "I'm fine! Fucking PERFECT even!" His hands shake with the rage. "So PLEASE! For FUCKING FUCKS SAKE! Get OFF of my ass about this 'You're not fine' shit. I'm PERFECTLY FINE!"

"Oh, clearly." (Y/N) says, hands on her hips. "Because someone who's fine acts like this."

"Oh my fucking god." John groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Are you ACTUALLY braindead? Did you NOT hear me?"

"John," The girl says, trying to be as calm as she can. "I can literally SEE the brusies-"

"Oh my god, you fucking win! You fucking win." He says, practically whirling his jacket to the earth, revealing a shit ton of bruises and marks both old and new. "There, my old man whipped me to shit last night cuz I forgot to do something exactly to his liking. SATISFIED?!?" The rage in John's voice scares both (Y/N) and himself... but mostly himself.

The look that (Y/N) has on her face brings him damn near to tears. It's a look not of disgust or fake sympathy. But of actual concern, maybe even actual care. He's trying to look everywhere, BUT her face.

"John..." She whispers softly, her fingers moving to his arm, but instantly drawing back. John sighs, extending his arm out to her. Her soft fingers trace each mark softly, almost a feather light touch. "You don't deserve this."

"Well clearly, I did." He mumbles, turning his head to the side. (Y/N) drags her finger down his arm softly to his hand, where she squeezes gently.

"No, you don't." She says, looking him in the eyes. "John, I may not have known you for a super long time. But I know for a FACT that you're a good person under the tough guy exterior." John stays quiet, his eyes not leaving the girl in front of him. "You DON'T deserve this." She gestures to every mark that she could see and the ones she probably couldn't see. "And I'll be DAMNED if I listen to you act like you don't deserve the dirt under my shoes." Her other hand moves to his shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. "Last time I checked, no human being deserves this. And if you need ANYBODY, SOMEWHERE to get away for a bit, my door's WIDE open, just call me, talk to me, hell even send me a letter. I don't care. But I'm here-"

"(Y/N)..." He says softly, his fingers wrapping around the hand (Y/N) had hers in. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"Of course, John." She says softly, going up on her tiptoes to lightly brush her lips to his cheek. "Contrary to belief, I do have a-"

"You missed." He says.

"I-I'm sorry?" She asks. John simply chuckles before pressing his lips against her own.

A/N: There we are! Hopefully, I did the idea justice. I loved it sm. I'm not nessicarily good at romantic fluff (I don't tend to experience romantic fluff often if ever XD) so hopefully I did it alright. I feel like I put a bit too much of myself into John during his little meltdown, as that's how I was during my first PTSD episode. I APOLOGISE FOR HOW LONG THIS TOOK FOR ME TO GET OUT THO 😭😭😭😭

[neallo]

do you have any songs/playlist you think fit meronia? i've been reading through your works and remembered blonde hair, black lungs by sorority noise sounded very meronia-esque to me back when i first got into this ship

hi! a) thank you for the ask! and for reading my works! :3c i hope you're enjoying <3 and b) just listened to that one and i can absolutely see what you mean!! and finally c) GOD i'm so sorry this question has taken me SO long to get to -- i kept trying to be a perfectionist about it and curate a catch-all meronia playlist, but the problem i always have is that a lot of my favorite songs for them are sort of vibe-specific, so i was fighting with myself on what works In General for them vs. what works for a particular set of visions i have of them.

i have a few fic playlists [i want to hold you (hostage)'s playlist [x] and the bury us both playlist [x] are my best two, but i also made lists for unexpected visitor [x], leap day [x], minutes to midnight [x], it's friday, i'm in love [x], and it's you and me, that's my whole world [x]). i also technically have this playlist [M N] which purports to be generalized and is four hours long, but i have not looked at it since literally march 2023, so like. not sure whether i would really endorse it now.

okay. going to get into particular artists i see pop up a lot in my own meronia playlists under the cut.

the first and foremost would probably be Ethel Cain (House in Nebraska [near-coded] & Sun Bleached Flies [mellocore] & Michelle Pfeiffer [i will die on the hill that this is one of the meronia songs ever] & Knuckle Velvet & for some fics Family Tree (both the intro & the full song later in the album) [one of the bury us both songs ever]. to a lesser degree i really like Gibson Girl & Western Nights for them too. OH AND CRUSH.)

Mitski is up there for me, too (Pink in the Night, Francis Forever, I Bet on Losing Dogs, I'm Your Man, The Frost, My Love Mine All Mine, Stay Soft, Heat Lightning, The Only Heartbreaker, Love Me More) as is Hozier (Take Me To Church, Work Song, Like Real People Do, Francesca). Taylor Swift's The Great War was the first song i ever heard that gave me brainworms about them back in the early days of my meronia disease, and i think there are some others of hers that work well for them as well (hoax, my tears ricochet, willow, Dancing With Our Hands Tied, Don't Blame Me, Gorgeous, Cruel Summer, The Archer).

okay. getting a little long-winded here. it'll be faster if i list some artists i often put on playlists for them. there are more than a few Fall Out Boy songs that suit them, though i usually end up feeling those are fic-specific, plus some by Daughter, Allie X (Tumor in particular), Hayley Williams (My Limb, recommended to me by @deelavis), Mads Buckley (i think recommended by both @/deelavis and @vorareromantic, actually), Chloe Moriondo (bodybag, recommended to me by @oloreandil), Grimes (i know. i know. but Art Angels fucked. sorry.), boygenius (and the individual members therein), Japanese Breakfast, Flower Face (spiracle, recommended to me by @paradisepoisoned).

PHEW! i think that's all i've got for you for now. hopefully you can find some bops in here :3c thanks again for the question, & happy listening!!

[tomato-bird-art]

SF ZINEFEST 2024! Some pictures from the San Francisco Zinefest last week! I had a wonderful time, and it was SUPER busy! thanks everyone who swung by to pick up prints and zines from me, I really appreciate it. It was really heartening to see people enjoy my art and remember me from over the years—I’ve had a very busy year and not as much time to “be an artist” as I’d like, so it was very invigorating to be around other queer artists again in a dedicated and enthusiastic space. When online a lot, you tend to forget how it is to be around art in person, and this was a great reminder of it—also every year, I’m always excited to see the beautiful outfits and fashion of the attendees! Someday I’ll dress up more special, but alas it’s just work and apron for me XD

I also finally got to meet longtime mutual and incredible artist @megamoth in person, and got a copy of their Devilman zine series here I contributed to some years ago! Here’s a pic with a cool itabag as well.

This year, I debuted a few new works:

“Fujo X-Ray Visions”

is a collection of personal comics from the past year I’ve been posting here and on Patreon, mostly about trying to balance life as a cartoonist and as someone pursuing some new career experiences in the healthcare field. Like “Voids and Visions” before it, there’s a bunch of personal stuff and angsting along with regular goofiness.

It’s available now both as a physical zine, as well as a digital download!

“If All The World Were Mine!”

My collection of artwork and comics I’ve done for my medieval rpf side account, @angevinyaoiz over the past couple years. It’s a mix of some serious historical illustrations, goofy cartoons, and nsfw works. It’s probably one of the most “niche” things I’ve ever made or gotten into as of late, but I’m happy for the audience who has appreciated my work over the past several months. It’s available currently as a physical zine purchase on storenvy, and I’m planning on making an expanded digital zine version available later—fill out this form to be notified!

“Best Yaoi Movies of 20th Century Hollywood”

In this collaborative project I did with my friend @titilvating, in the style of classic cut and paste, copied zines, we offer our takes on 19 movies made before the year 2000. Many are acclaimed classics; some are underrated gems.  We made this zine to both introduce folks to the richness possibilities of classic movies; whether longtime cinephiles familiar with queer subtexts,  or young fujos looking for more material to sink their yaoifangs into.  Our sample size caters to our personal tastes rather than “good representation” and reflects a fraction what’s out there, with a focus on western US/European media, but hopefully can serve as a fun introduction and celebration. Old movies are a lotta fun, who would’ve thought?

It’s available now as a free digital download, but contact me if you’re interested in a physical edition as well!”

Other Works:

My print version of “The Sons of God” was very well received! I realized sometimes giving little titles to print pieces make for great conversation starters, and I got to chat a lot about my inspirations for the respective pieces. Grab a physical print here!

Ending Thoughts

Overall, I’m glad I got to meet lots of people this year and also pick up lots of zines! I didn’t have a chance to really browse this time around since it was so busy, but I got to trade a lot with folks and also pick up some cool zines and stickers myself.

For those who’d like to keep up with what I’m doing, follow me here, on Patreon, either as a member or free-follower, since I tend to post my sketches/WIPs there first. For me now, it’s back to the grind of school and also continuing creative projects. I have a lot of stuff I dream of doing, and it’s always a challenge to balance that with what needs to get done. If I learned anything from this event, it’s how valuable it is to connect with people in the real world art space (Something I always learn and forget like every few months.)…also, always bring water and snacks—can never be TOO prepared!

Wishing you all a good autumn,

-Allie

[thejessc0de]

As an artist, where do you draw the line between stealing an idea and being inspired by it?

Oh wow, pulling out the tough questions, eh? Tbh, I feel like this line can be very difficult to pinpoint because when it comes to art, what necessarily is an "idea"? Fan art can be especially complicated by this too - some ppl think it's "stealing" or "unoriginal" while others see it as a celebration, continuation, or commentary on the original source materials. Some people are also weird about using references (which every artist should be using!). This type of discussion is carried out daily on any social media site of your choice.

For me personally, no matter what reference or source of inspiration I'm using, I'm still trying to tell a story from my point of view, and in doing so I'm attempting to transform whatever materials I'm basing it on. It's a work in progress as finding your own art style/vision/topics to present is never ending.

All that said, I think outright stealing is usually pretty obvious, and intent matters too. I think most people will do just fine listening to their gut when using references and finding inspiration 🙂. Hopefully all that makes sense, I'm not a good writer 😅

[sydmarch]

seeing people on here designing their own skill sets had me soooo inspired to make one too. kept feeling like there was too much overlap between intellect/psyche and physique/motorics so i split mine into just mind/body. some ended up more heavily inspired by harry's skills than others which don't draw from them at all. none of the 'portraits' are actually portraits bcus for the way my mind works i felt more abstract/object based representations just worked better. full breakdowns of each skill, which of harry's it takes after if any, etc below the cut bcus long lol. image descriptions in alt are hopefully helpful i kinda struggled writing them since some of these were pretty abstract lmao.

SALESMANSHIP: one on one people skills. a bit of rhetoric, suggestion, drama, and empathy. reading people, debating, mimicry, understanding what people want and how to act to get what you want in return. represented as it is because sometimes when you're neurodivergent you owe the majority of your people skills to the training you once got on a sales floor. masking falls under this skill along with composure.

CONVERGENCE: people skills in group settings and crowdwork. the ability to find a group of friends anywhere from school to workplaces to parties where you only know one person. reading crowds and the feeling of safety in numbers. finding the best route through packed subway tunnels and sidewalks or leading your friends to barricade at a show. gets +2 from alcohol.

ACUMEN: learned information or book smarts. a mix of encyclopedia and logic. memory, information recall, etc.

WEB WEAVING: conceptualization, but with a heavier emphasis on connecting patterns and drawing parallels. understanding where your creativity comes from and how to connect things that inspire you in new ways. +2 from weed.

INTUITION: protective instinct. somewhat of a half light and inland empire mix. less of an emphasis on gut feelings and more on careful evaluations - often too careful & veering into overthinking. will keep you safe but will also make you paranoid.

CRAFTSMANSHIP: interfacing, but with a focus on tools/artistic mediums rather than machines. familiar mediums like sewing needles, palette knives, and mirrors feel like an extension of yourself. the ability to quickly pick up & acclimate to new mediums through trial and error.

COGNIZANCE: perception, but more than sight hearing and smell. heavy emphasis on touch and a higher than average sensitivity to vibration where many sounds can be felt more than heard. extremely sensitive color vision and innate sense of color theory. synesthesia. a clinical or practical awareness of the body.

FLIPPING EVERY BEETLE: a weird name for a weird and hard to describe skill lol. some of you already know the name comes from part of the clj lyric i have tattooed on my foot. whimsy, childlike wonder, unselfconscious enjoyment of things. allowing your body to lead you. an awareness of the body that feels positive and playful. gets a +1 from alcohol and a +2 from weed or molly.

COMPOSURE: the same as harry's (since I already identified pretty strongly with that skill as is - those who've seen my jacket know) but combined with pain threshold and endurance as I feel all 3 stem from a similar place. keeping emotions in check, nt masking, sitting unfazed through long tattoo sessions, using drugs without getting sloppy or sick.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: once again, the same as harry's. sex and drugs, but also dancing and stimming. urges and impulsiveness. my version has very different ideas around sex and also different prioritization of substances where out of all the things i partake in alcohol is of least importance.

[amarantine-amirite]

Foresight And Foot-In-Mouth

I woke to throbbing pain, pointy branches on bushes, and Mrs. Beeks' disapproving voice. "Hope that taught you a lesson," she sneered. 

Mrs. Beeks was the wife of somebody who, try as I might, I always seem to piss off. The first time I met Mr. Beeks was when my dad was watching a video on his laptop in the living room and I walked up behind him and said “who's that nerd?” and to my horror the nerd on the screen rolled his eyes. It was a video call. The nerd was one of his company's clients, Mr. Beeks.

The second time was a few years later. I reached into a box of free samples outside a chicken restaurant. Only it wasn't free samples. It was him. Holding a box of chicken. His chicken. I tried to steal Mr. Beeks' chicken.

The last thing I needed was his wife witnessing a third mishap of mine. I had no idea what lesson I should learn because I don’t remember how the near death experience even happened. “What?” I asked.

“Tell me,” Mrs. Beeks put her hands on her hips and glared. “what did you see during your near death experience?” The fact that she had so much plastic surgery made me unable to ascertain what she was feeling. Was she concerned or was she upset with me? 

“Um…” I drew a blank

Mrs. Beeks rolled her eyes. “Hopefully something that made you stop being such a screw-up artist”

After working it in my head for an hour, I remembered what I saw during my near-death experience. I saw rebirth on a personal level. A baby being born, a guy dying of old age well as his wife held his hand, and two teenagers who thought it was a good idea to snack on Tide pods, not because of the tide-pod challenge, but because they thought it was candy. A mother got angry at herself and her daughter because the latter got into a fight with a crossing guard and ended up getting hit by a car

I saw the natural order of death and rebirth. Volcanoes erupt, wiping out vegetation at the same time providing nutrients for the new stuff to grow. Hyenas gobbling up a gnu protecting its calf. People covered in scars cowering from an earthquake

I saw a messy future of our universe. Civilizations rise and fall. Our star system died while new ones are created. A big crunch followed by a second Big Bang. The point is that our universe reshapes itself all the time at all scales.

Despite all this, I could only say one thing. I blurted out, “42.”

Mrs Beeks stood there, dumbfounded. “What is that, like the version number for the universe?” she asked. I’m surprised she knew what a version number was.

“No,” I chuckled, “42 is not the version number of the universe, it’s something deeper: a key.”

“What kind of key?”

I looked Mrs. Beeks right in the eye and said, “While I was out, I saw the random number generator that powers the universe. 42 is the thing that seeds the random number generator”

“What does that mean?” she said, unimpressed. 

“If you use a random number generator on a computer, it’s not truly a random number generator. True generation of random numbers is still an unsolved problem in computer science,” I explained, “To beat a pseudorandom number generator, you need the seed, the modulus, the increment, and the scale factor. I know the seed. I can predict future events if I know when they’ll happen. Knowing the seed for the random number generator that powers the universe leads to things like seeing cataclysmic disasters before they happen and Beating casinos and lotteries. You have no idea how powerful this is.”

Mrs. Beeks walked away in disgust

Speaking of seeing disasters before they happen, I had this vision of disaster 100 years from now. None of us will be alive so I’m not going to say anything about it.

That turned out to be a mistake. The time-delta wasn’t in years, but in days.

A hundred days later, the volcano at Yellowstone erupted. Bubbling lava flowed down the slopes, destroying everything in its path. Massive rocks got blown 50 miles into the air. 

Nobody in the states of Montana or Wyoming survived. The rest of the country also took it in the teeth, but not to the same extent. Nobody evacuated because they didn’t think it’d happen so soon. 

Once again, I screwed up. To anyone who hoped that the near death experience would make me less of a screwup artist, you were wrong. Maybe people can’t really change. we can’t become something better than before.

Before my near-death experience, I could only be described as a screw-up artist. I had a habit of putting my foot in my mouth, doing things without thinking, and struggling to put words together. After the near-death experience, I remained the same. 

People can learn, but they can't really change. Old habits can go away, and new habits can be formed, but people don't differ fundamentally from who they are throughout their life.

@prompts-for-every-need

[nsenvs3000f24]

Blog 4: Nature Interpretation through Art

Interpreting nature through art has always been a deeply personal experience for me. I’ve loved drawing scenic landscapes for as long as I can remember and creating art around nature. While my hand can never fully replicate the magic of the scene, the process itself feels like a way of engaging with the natural world in a meaningful way.

But when I think about who I am to interpret nature through art, it’s easy to feel uncertain. Art often seems like it belongs to professionals, to those who have formal training or are recognized for their talents. However, what I’ve come to realize is that interpreting nature through art isn’t about technical skill. Instead, it’s about observing, feeling, and translating those experiences into something others can relate to. Art provides a way to share my perspective, to help others see what I see, and to convey the beauty of nature as I experience it.

In Chapter 5 of our textbook, we explore the concept of “the gift of beauty.” To me, this idea speaks directly to what art does. It allows us to capture something fleeting, like a sunset or a misty morning, and make it last a little longer. This process is not just about remembering these moments for ourselves but sharing them with others. I often find myself taking photos of landscapes or sketching quick drawings because I want to extend the experience and, hopefully, offer others a glimpse into that beauty.

This idea of capturing and sharing beauty through art is reflected in the work of artists like the Group of Seven, who are discussed in our course. Their paintings of Canadian landscapes weren’t just depictions of physical places, they were emotional and symbolic interpretations of nature that shaped Canada’s national identity. While my art may not have the same historical significance, the act of interpreting nature still holds immense value. It allows me to express my personal connection to the environment, and in doing so, invite others into that experience.

Art also offers a way to convey deeper meanings behind natural elements. For example, a tree isn’t just a tree in art; it might symbolize life, resilience, or the passage of time. A mountain could represent strength, endurance, or the challenges we face. Through art, we can layer these symbols and emotions onto nature, allowing us to communicate our thoughts and feelings in a way that goes beyond words. This makes art a powerful tool in nature interpretation because it taps into both intellectual and emotional understanding. Art is not just about creating beautiful things but about fostering connections. It can evoke emotions and offer new perspectives, helping people to see the natural world in a new light, which is what nature interpretation is about, helping others to connect with and appreciate the environment around them.

By using art, I can share the gift of beauty in nature, helping others to see the significance in a landscape or a single tree. It’s not about being an expert or a professional artist; it’s about seeing the world and sharing that vision with others.

[slade-neko]

I debated on making this post, but somehow here I am...

Apparently some folks got upset over my post saying how I disliked the Fallout TV show... seriously? Can't even have an opinion on the internet anymore, but I then again when could you?

Look, I'm not upset or anything and am most definitely not here to tell people what you can or can't like. I was merely posting my opinion on something that's part of a series that I've loved for years. I took the time to watch something, gave it a chance, and I genuinely didn't like it. Simple as that. If you loved it, good for you, but maybe you shouldn't read a post talking about how someone else disliked it. Don't try to devalue someone else's opinion, a purely subjective matter, and tell them they're wrong. That's like if I stumbled upon someone venting how they hated the anime Dragon Ball Z... I'd just think to myself, "whatever" and move on with my day.

My post wasn't meant to sound hateful, just very cynical, as that's how I write. It was intended for my own followers, didn't expect someone who follows the tags to find it and flip. This wasn't even supposed to be a serious thing, just some thoughts. I don't cover the actual story writing on the show (which I was not a fan of either...) I said in the beginning I decided against making a full review because there are some great ones already on Youtube. I simply talked about how I disagreed with some of the nasty stuff in the show. Not just Fallout TV particularly, but crap that plagues Hollywood movies in general.

I'll admit I didn't take the greatest care in my writing and for that I received "some" very valid criticism, which I wanted to address in this post where I can hopefully clear up any confusion...

(Remember this is someone's OPINION that could very well differ from your own! If that bothers you, please do not read it. 😇)

1. The games are full of "bad stuff," so it makes sense to feel bad watching it!

I never argued that a rated-M role-playing game about a post-nuclear apocalyptic world didn't have dark and mature themes to it. I simply disliked the nasty crap thrown into the show for the sake of comedic/ shock value.

A.) The incest stuff with Lucy and Sweet Home Alabama (her cousin) was made out to be funny on a Rick & Morty level like "Hahaha wow, I can't believe they put that in there!" It wasn't taken as a serious issue, just a jab at idiot humor. If you want to see incest addressed as a real problem, the indie game "The Coffin of Andy and Leyla" portrays that way better.

B.) The weird freaky guy who bangs chickens is in the same boat. It was just stupid shock value of the BoS guy breaking up two idiots fighting in the wasteland only to have one of them be a "chicken banger..." Wow, so funny! And cherry on top, Maximus just let's him go. Personally, I'd have killed him or brought him back to the chicken's owner and let him do what needs to be done, but this is a show, not a game, so you just watch the wonderful writing play out.

C.) The genetic mutation vault. Vaults do have sick messed up crap in them, that's a fact and yes there is genetic mutation in a series all about radiation, but a human lady birthing out baby monsters (gulpers) that devoured her alive... Still, never seen a Vault in the games do that. Might be a poor excuse on my end, sure, but I could've gone without seeing something as disgusting as that in my life. Also the Vault's weird cult crap with people "exposing their chests..." The Fallout games are rated-M, yeah, but never feature full nudity... I don't wanna see naked people in Fallout, if I did, I'd install mods lol. But I digress, this is HOLLYWOOD's Fallout, so I suppose they can do whatever they want with it for the sake of their "artistic vision." Again, something I'm obviously not a fan of, if someone else is, well that's their thing.

2. Oh, but Fallout has tons of s*x jokes!!!

True, the games have jokes like that especially in New Vegas with things like Fisto, the reprogrammed Protectron. Fisto, to me, IS funny because its well-written. In my opinion, Obsidian's writing was leagues better than Bethesda's Fallout games. Thank Chris Avellone and the Obsidian team for that. Fallout 4's came off very bland, boring, and inoffensive. New Vegas in particular had wonderful writers and all their jokes and innuendos were good. The TV show's attempts were nothing more than miserable Hollywood "idiot humor." The whole "wanna have s*x?" scene will never be funny, at least to me anyways. It think it's just stupid.

3. Lore doesn't matter/ it can change!

I myself have never been one to get too invested in lore of anything, but I do appreciate it when creators of a series at least try to keep things in check. While it might "not matter" for some people, you can't take that away from those who enjoy it. Lore itself is an important building block to create a strong foundation of a fictional world that fans can invest in. When lore is subject to change on a whim whenever the creators desire then it makes it harder for fans to immerse into said world. Why bother getting invested if everything you learn will only be altered constantly? Unless someone only cared about the quick thrills and enjoy things only in the moment, which is fine, I suppose, but doesn't mean everyone does.

Sure there exists many crappy live-action video game adaptions, but typically the original video game creators don't ever mention them let alone acknowledge their existence as they're made simply for "cash grabs." Take the Resident Evil movies, dime a dozen, crap adaptations, nobody really cares about. Fallout's on the other hand, while maybe its purely speak on Todd Howard's behalf, but he insists that the Fallout TV show is "canon" to the universe and will be followed through in Fallout 5. Paired with the fact the show creator said in an interview that he wasn't out to make a show to please fans of the games, saying "It's a fool's errand." Rightfully so that can make fans very upset when said show tramples on years of lore built up from previous games. Especially from the ORIGINAL Fallout games that Bethesda had nothing to do with. Disney and Star Wars is another great scenario of this.

I can fully understand why Bethesda does that though, as they're just trying to make A.) a fun game and B.) make money (more-so on B. now-a-days...) Prioritize game first, lore later. Many games do that, The Legend of Zelda games are a big one that come to mind. Like I said, I'm not a huge lore guy, but Fallout is one of my favorite series, so I appreciated it when they tried to keep things somewhat cohesive and respect the lore that came before.

End/ Final Thoughts

I still think the show is mediocre at it's very best. This is just the opinion of some guy who's liked Fallout for 14 years starting with Fallout 3. Gave the show a shot, didn't like it, not a big deal. It's not the end of the world or anything.

The show obviously wasn't made for people like myself and that's okay. If someone else likes it, good on 'em. Keep having fun and don't let me or someone else stand in your way of enjoying the things you like, but at the same time don't disrespect someone's opinion simply because they don't feel the same way as you.

"Some people just plain don't respect others, and that's a no-no. If there's one thing I won't tolerate, it's lack of respect." - The King (Fallout: New Vegas, 2010)

With all that said... I'm very tired. I didn't come back to Tumblr to argue stupid opinions over a freakin' Amazon Prime series of all things. If anyone wants to watch a good full review, I recommend ItsAGundam or SyntheticMan's on YouTube. I found them to be very good honest reviews from long term fans.

Remember to be nice to each other, respect opinions, etc. etc. Now I'm gonna go back to doing something fun like playing Minecraft or Sims.

Peace ✌️

[allisonbeacomic]

Main artist for comic here, just gonna be talking about where I am mentally, where the comic is, where the comic will be going. All of this pertains to the random stop in posting, I know there really isn't enough of an audience for my absence to even be noticed, but as this is something I'm really passionate about I kinda need to do this just to lift some weight off my conscience. If you don't care about that just enjoy the little reference doodle that I'm attaching, I don't mind, I know I can be a bit much when I get to talking.

My mental health has not been doing great, I've mostly been sleeping in for the past month, I've been suffering from major art burnout to the point where I don't even have the will to plug my mouse in to try most of the time. My usual process is just having an idea, sitting down with it, doodling it in Krita's comic template and adjusting until I'm satisfied with the rough vision in front of me, and then finally cleaning it up into what eventually becomes the final post, this takes me about an hour and a half, on really good days I could have a backlog set up for a couple weeks. As of late I'm having trouble getting clear enough ideas to even feel confident sitting down with them.

The comic, as it is now, is literally just the passion of one woman with a mouse and a vision, just little silly doodles in a style simpler than my usual one that are designed to make you smile and then move on with your day. This works, but lately I've been thinking that maybe this isn't the best I can do.

First of all, I'm just collaborative in nature, I like making things with people, bouncing ideas with them, seeing the kinds of things they make, it takes some organization to get here, but once I get it all sorted out I instantly find myself having a better time overall. I've pitched the idea of making this comic a collaboration with @illustraintions @yaboidax, and @mogdoodles (by the way please check them all out, their work is awesome), they all seemed to be on board, so maybe at some point expect to see some contributions from them as well!

Second, I'm considering making the comic have a more coherent story, I don't plan on making this a really deep thing, but just making sure there's a bit more of a continuity from comic to comic instead of them being totally isolated from each-other, I think this will make for a more engaging read overall without compromising its simplistic charm.

Finally, I'm thinking of transitioning the comic to be a bit closer to my usual lineless style (you can see what that'd look like below). It's a lot easier to make adjustments to, I think it just is a lot more dynamic to work with. I'll see how it works in execution.

That's all I have to say for now, thank you for your patience. Hopefully I'll be back on track soon.

[abhainnwhump]

IMYM Chapter 2 High on Sweetness: Ink

<- Previous Chapter || Masterlist || Next Chapter ->

(I apologize in advance for my bad puns. Over four years in this fandom and my puns have not improved. They’re not as bad as the rock one though.)

“Well, that was weird,” Ink groaned, sitting up and rubbing his head. His skull pounded after having Nightmare inside it and his ribs throbbed a dull ache. The artist looked around and realized the Villain Sans Squad was gone, thank the stars. He felt tempted to lie back and nap for a while, watching the fluffy clouds pass through the blue sky. As soon as Nightmare left, the atmosphere cleared up. Birds were singing and flowers were blooming. Hopefully, laying back would clear the fog in his mind.

“Ink?” Dream kneeled down next to him. He had a concerned look in his golden eye lights. “Are you feeling okay? Nightmare’s influence can leave . . . scars on people.”

“Never better.” Thanks to the positivity magic still making him feel warm and fuzzy, Ink was only half sarcastic. Hate and anger didn’t burn through him anymore, which was a plus. But he was still pissed that the octopus played him like one of Error’s dolls. Why him out of the three? Why wouldn’t Nightmare go after his brother when he was standing right there?

Blue joined them with blue stars in his eye sockets. His energy hammer was gone, snapped away now that there was no danger. “Mweh, that was easy! I expected them to fight harder! But are you two alright?”

Dream looked up and nodded. “For the most part, we’re good. The mission was a success, no one died, the Villain Sans Squad is gone, and the AU is safe. The one negative was that Nightmare messed with Ink’s emotions and forced him to fight me.” He turned back to Ink. “Are you okay?”

Ink snorted. “Yeah, I’m fine. You worry a lot for the ‘embodiment of positivity’. Sometimes I wonder if you’re actually who you say you are andnot a hoax.”

Offended, Dream crossed their arms, stammering. “How dare you! I am not a hoax!” He stuck his tongue out. Despite his efforts, Ink laughed harder. Blue repressed a smile but gave up fast. Even Dream dropped the angry facade and smiled with his trademark giggle. They all broke down laughing, needing a bit of group positivity after the battle.

The Star Sanses were so distracted that they didn’t notice the human child flying above. One of their white feathers fell on Ink’s scarf, which is what finally made him realize they were there. They had brownish auburn hair, a baby blue sweater stripped with gray, and a pair of black goggles on their head. Their huge smile looked even larger with their closed eyes, or at least what appeared closed.

“Hey, kid!” Ink shouted up, “How’s it going?”

The human zoomed down a skeleton from the sky joined them. He had raven-colored goggles, which matched his jacket and wings pretty well. His only pop of color was an electric blue turtleneck. The two bird monsters blew up dust from the ground as they landed.

“Now that was an emu-sing battle.” Aviar winked, blowing dust from his goggles. The human’s smile faded in seconds. Aviar laughed. “Lark says thank you. We got the rest of the monsters out of danger and they insisted on watching the fight.”

“It was no problem,” Blue said through gritted teeth as his left eye socket twitched. “I’m glad you’re all safe.”

“That’s what we do. Protect you guys and make sure everything goes to your Creator’s vision. And this AU doesn’t involve skeleton killers. And if does, then oh well. You’re all screwed.” Ink shrugged. He stared at their unamused expressions. Lark signed something with their hands that he didn’t think was friendly. “What? I don’t make the rules around here.”

“Anyways,” Aviar coughed as he changed the subject, “I don’t know about your schedule, but I’m free for a while. My next guard shift doesn’t start for another two hours and I have to make up for slacking on the job. How about we go for nice cream? My treat.”

Dream blushed yellow. Ink never knew why, but he always seemed embarrassed when people offered to do things for him. “Thank you for the offer, but unless Ink and Blue-”

“Hey, I said it’s on me, don’t worry about it. I don’t do anything with my gold besides buy coconut oil. None of you are birdens, relax.”

Blue pressed the tips of his pointer fingers between his eye sockets, forcing a smile. “Sounds magnificent! But if you say another pun, that’s going to change very quickly.”

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

“You guys were right,” Ink said, his mouth full of Neapolitan. “Birdtale has the best nice cream.”

The Star Sanses, Aviar, and Lark sat with their legs dangling over the edge of one of the brown flight platforms. Some monsters flew around in the sky. The drop below was at least a thousand feet into an empty abyss, but Ink wasn’t scared. He could teleport with Broomie, Dream with positivity, Blue with his magic, and the birds . . . well, that’s self-explanatory. Even though Ink didn’t have lungs, he could feel the light air pressure against his bones. Lark lived up here so long their body could take it, so they were fine.

“Aviar, question.” Ink looked down into the chasm. “What’s down there? I’m guessing it’s either a river, rocks, or an abyss. Has anyone ever fallen?” Usually, Ink would know the answers to these questions since he explored the AUs and read the code so much. But sometimes the Creator didn’t make an answer, so the monsters had to figure out themselves. Even if most of the time there was nothing there. Sometimes he wondered if he could create the endings to stories himself, maybe he should try it . . .

The bird monster looked over the ledge. “No one knows. And I don’t . . . think anyone fell down. Kid, do you?”

Lark shook their head.

“Can I jump down?” Ink asked.

“No,” Aviar replied.

Ink leaned away from the edge, a bit disappointed. “Please? I’ll be fine! Trust me, I’ve been through worse.”

“Ink, no,” Blue said with a stern voice. “The last thing we need is you hurting yourself because you decided to be a reckless little shit and hurt yourself again! Look, I don't know how emotion magic works but . . ." He looked up at Dream. "Is it hard?"

He thought about it. “Speaking from experience, emotion manipulation magic is difficult. The stronger a person’s will and determination are, the harder it is to control them. I don’t understand why Nightmare only waited until now to use his magic.” Dream brushed his spoon against his banana sundae, making a swirl with the ice cream and syrup. “Oh, speaking of the battle, did anyone feel as if he retreated too easily?”

Ink shrugged. “Nope. He fought hard enough to me. But if it makes you feel any better, I’ll do this.” Shoving his nice cream cone in his mouth, Ink stood up and shot a bullet of paint into the sky with Broomie. The black pellet flew threw the sky until it hit the edge of the AU, sending an almost invisible ripple. It took years for Ink to get that trick right, but now he could make a protective shell around any AU until he left it. He sat back down with nice cream melting all over his chin. “Boom, shield. They can’t get in if they tried now, we’re a-okay! What gave you that idea they weren’t fighting enough?”

Dream watched the ripples go by before turning their attention back to their sundae. “It’s just . . . I don’t know. Most of the time, he puts more of an effort in. It was like he was toying with us, buying time. ”

“You’re overthinking, Dreamboat.” Dream frowned at the nickname. “You need to chill out and stop worrying about everything. Take a page out of my playbook and don’t care about anything for few hours. Yeah, that should be enough time . . .” Ink was talking to himself by that point. He was trying as hard as he could to erase the memory of Nightmare taking him over. He still heard the red vial messing with his head. Kill him! What has he done to you besides being a pest? He’ll only make things worse. I’m the right one. He’s a crybaby and makes you look bad by being around him. Kill them both.

Like sure, the team had their arguments. Dream was a serious people pleaser and wanted to protect everyone in every AU. He was a complete sucker for the ‘happily ever after’ that Ink didn’t understand, angst and suffering was more fun. He didn’t see why saving people was so important. The worlds were unique and magical and one of a kind. Meanwhile, the monsters were all copied and pasted with different clothes. There were millions of worlds with billions of monsters, so a few deaths won’t affect anything. But noooooo, Dream wanted to save everyone. Blue tended to side with him and that didn’t help anything.

But at the end of the day, they were teammates and friends with a common goal: To protect the Doodlesphere.

Moments like this were one of the reasons he was glad to have the worst memory in the Doodlesphere. He once forgot his name for an entire day and Fresh stilljokes about it. He’d forget he ever got mind-controlled by the end of the week. At least he hoped he did. He didn’t count on it. Especially after trying to forget his weird nightmares and . . . everything else weird going on.

For the last few months, Ink felt like he was being watched. Well, people were always staring at him, but this felt different. He’d get a sick feeling of dread in his nonexistent stomach out of nowhere. Some of his stuff went missing. At first, they weren’t huge things— colored pencils, paint, drawings— but it freaked him out. Then he lost more personal things. Clothes, entire sketchbooks, battle strategies, and worst of all, his homemade flute. He didn’t even have a backup flute! Why would anyone even steal a flute? And then there was the cold feeling he woke up to some mornings. It made him feel miserable and worthless, but only when he stayed in the room. Ink tried to blame the missing stuff on his memory, even though the cold didn’t make sense. He didn’t tell Dream or Blue yet, but he planned to if he lost anything else.

Blue licked his pina colada-flavored nice cream. “So how do we keep Nightmare from coming back here?”

Ink crossed his legs over each other in his pondering position. “Why don’t we . . . I don’t know, set up a trap back? Ooh! I got an idea! How about we make a giant spider web made out of paint or something, then we put in an AU they’ll attack-”

Blue stared at him as if he were insane. “Absolutely not! Remember the last time we tried something like that?”

“For the last time, it wasn’t my fault that apartment got set on fire!” Ink crossed his arms in a pout.

“Yes, it was.” Dream and Blue said at the same time.

Lark opened their mouth and raised a finger, but put it back down and closed it.

The group talked about whatever came to mind. Ink lost track of the time, though it was probably an hour. He spent most of that time laughing at the others’ jokes (and his own for that matter). Sometimes he got distracted and forgot what they were saying.

The wind grew stronger and the temperature dropped. Ink’s bones tingled like he got a nervous stomachache, but he wasn’t scared. On the other side, Lark’s face paled. He could recognize the feeling from anywhere.

A child who looked about nine stood behind them. They had gray skin and shadow gray hair cut into a choppy bob. To continue with the gray color scheme, they wore a gray-striped sweater with shorts. Instead of eyes, they had empty black voids. They weren’t black and soulless-looking twenty-four-seven. Ink has seen Core Frisk’s eye sockets glitter entire galaxies when they used their magic.

“Core! You almost gave me a nonexistent heart attack!” Ink dramatically clutched his chest.

Lark put their thumb under their chin and circled their index finger in the air. Their eyebrows raised.

Aviar translated. “Who are you?”

“No one important.” Core winked their empty, mischief-filled eye. “I came for Dream. I need your help with an AU I found, but if you’re busy-”

“Oh, no worries.” Dream ate the last of his nice cream cone and stood up. “Thank you for everything, you two. Core, what’s the problem? Please don’t tell me it’s another Code Purple.”

Ink groaned when he brought it up. There have been so many of these things lately! AUs corrupting with negative energy and turning black, purple, and misty. It didn’t affect the story much, besides getting darker in tone, but it was the inhabitants that suffered. A black goop spread across the AU and turned the monsters into negative hateful zombies. Did they have a cure for it? Not yet, but Dream’s working on it.

Core’s face turned grim. “I’m telling you it’s another Core purple. There may be some souls still alive and I want to help rescue them, but I can’t find them under the sludge, so I was hoping . . .

“I understand.” Dream shared their expression.

Core opened up the portal they came through. Their’s was glitchy, white, and purple portal opening to a dark forest. They looked behind themself at the artist. “And Ink, your face is covered in nice cream.”

Ink touched his cheekbone and it came back white, brown, and pink. Being the mature individual he was, he licked it off his fingers with his rainbow tongue. Then he licked the rest off his face. Once he finished, he sighed and brushed off his hands. “Well, I guess I should be going too. See you around, bird brains!”

Blue blinked shocked at the “Ink, aren’t you forgetting something?”

The artist squinted his eye sockets, trying to figure out what he had forgotten. “Say thank you?”

Blue facepalmed. “That, and I can’t make portals! Are you just going to leave me here?”

“Oh, right!” Ink laughed as he swirled Broomie in the air and made a portal to the Omega Timeline. “Thanks for the nice cream, Aviar!”

“No problem.” He waved lazily. “Hope you have an im-peck-able day.

Ink could hear Blue screaming in his head. He snorted and grabbed his arm before covering them both in black paint, sinking them into the ground. Even though he didn’t mean to, he teleported up too high and they both crashed onto the ground. Their two-story clubhouse stood in front of them, made of light brown wood and had a mix of things from each of them. Blue put a pirate flag and blue streamers around it. Dream lined the front, sides, and balcony with flowers and sun banners. And Ink splattered buckets of rainbow paint around it.

“Ow!” Blue cried out when he hit the ground.

“Oops, my bad.” The artist brushed the dirt off his pants, laughing. Blue didn’t share his sense of humor. Ink held out his hand and helped him up. Blue was a person who didn’t stay angry for long though, so he took it.

Ink waved goodbye to Blue before jumping into the ink puddle. He fell into his personal doodle AU workshop. This world didn’t have an ounce of white. Instead it was beige with rainbow splatters all over the walls and floors. Ink had some . . . not so great experiences with empty white spaces. His first-ever memory was waking up alone, afraid, and with no clue where he came from or who he was. That was at least three hundred years ago, but the nightmares still haunted him.

He glanced over at the pile of stapled papers under a swirling white portal. They appeared out of magic all on their own, the new AU ideas. Each packet was full of story, art, and notes.

Ink plopped down on his beanbag, an idea he may or may not have stolen from a certain Windows Vista. He sifted through the new AU ideas with an excited smile plastered across his face. The Creators were getting crazy creative lately and Ink loved it! Some of the ideas were pretty violent, but he thought the angst potential would be fun. He didn’t accept an AU idea if it looked boring or was an exact copy of another, but there was only one in this pile. But he didn’t throw them away, he changed things up as he wanted until it was original. The rest were new and fun. As long as he wasn’t involved or getting hurt, Ink was up for a dark story.

As he was preparing to make the brand new worlds, the smell of bubblegum filled the air. Ink lowered the pencil in his mouth, knowing what was coming. He braced himself for the sparkles and rainbow explosion. “‘Eyo, brotato chip!”

Fresh appeared from an explosion of colorful confetti and a rubber duck squeak. He was one of the tallest Sanses, almost a foot taller than Ink, and years or even centuries older. The reason? Something, something, parasite body mutation. His outfit screamed 90’s. A bright blue and purple jacket, neon green shorts, and multicolor heelys. A red fanny pack hung around his waist with the word SWAG in giant white letters. He had a backward multicolor baseball cap with a blue propeller. But his most iconic thing his sunglasses, which changed depending on his thoughts. They defaulted to YOLO in yellow and teal letters.

Ink was so shocked he vomited a pile of ink, which was common for him. Heh, Ink vomited ink . . . where was he? Oh right, Fresh.

Ink took the pencil out of his mouth and set it in his sash instead. “So what brings you to my corner of the Doodlesphere?”

The parasite grinned. “I wanted to let ya know that Cross is havin’ a get-together because of some surprise dat he’s not sharing. We’re all gonin’ ice skatin’ and it’s going to be totally rad! Do you wanna join!”

Ink’s left eye socket turned into a question mark. “Wait, does Cross want me there?”

“Probs not! But I bet it’ll be fine!” His smile didn’t waver at all, not a single speck of empathy or regret in those eye lights. As cool as he was, Fresh was emotionless like he was. Ink tried to convince him to drink paint but it . . . didn’t go so well. Short version is that Fresh shoved it down his throat instead, then he possessed his body and beat up Error. So an average Tuesday.

Ink wasn’t the type to turn down an invite. He wasn’t even the type to turn down something he wasn’t invited to. “Sure! I’m in! It’ll surprise Cross! Maybe we can even make amends for . . . you know what.”

“Yah, I know what ya did. He’s ranted about it once or twice.” Fresh glanced over to the stack of AU’s and picked one of them up, flipping it around to see it better.

Ink it them out of his hands, catching one that flew out of the pile. He tried to look angry, but he found it funny so his mouth twitched. “Don’t mess with these! They’re important. Unless . . . do you want to help me with making these? You’ll just need to like hold them and I’ll make them. I’ve never done it with someone else before, so it could be something new . . . ?”

Fresh cocked his head as he thought about it. He was almost always smiling, which Ink would’ve found creepy if he hadn’t seen worse. Most Sanses were always smiling anyway, at least the less powerful ones.

Eventually, his glasses shifted to SURE! “Alright, brah! Hand me da AUs and I’ll fire them to ya!”

Ink picked up the stack of papers and dropped them in his arms, making sure they were all straight and even. He snapped his fingers and covered them both in black paint. Ink was double careful this time, teleporting them to a better height and landing in an empty space. The Doodlesphere was a giant gradient, yellow at the top and white at the bottom, and filled with islands. Most of them were portals with decorations for their corresponding AU, but some were empty, like where they stood. When Ink created them, the AUs would drift toward where they would fit the most. The Fell AUs were all in one area, the Swap AUs in another, etc, etc. It was his favorite thing to watch.

The two stood straight apart from each other. Ink’s scarf and Fresh’s pinwheel hat blew in the wind. Ink could never figure out where the gravity and wind came from. Magic? That was the only explanation. Number one rule of the Doodlesphere: Nothing makes sense and you would drive yourself insane trying to make it make sense.

Ink held his paintbrush and aimed it in the distance, making little ‘pew pew’ noises. Then he swung it in a circle, calling to Fresh. “Whenever you’re ready!”

Fresh’s look turned more malicious as he tossed him the first paper. Ink smacked it with Broomie’s and it went soaring.

The paper stretched into an island with rocky ground. Skulls built up around the stone archway of a portal. A ball of light glowed in the center before turning into a swirling portal. It drifted through the yellow void before landing in its proper spot.

Ink took a deep breath when he finished up. Each AU drained a bit of his power, hence why he slept about fourteen hours a night with several naps, but it was worth it. Creating new worlds to explore was the best thing ever and he never wanted to stop!

Fresh took a second sheet and balled it up like a baseball before throwing it at him. Ink knew he wasn’t supposed to do that, but Ink did it too, just because it was fun, so he let it slide. He hummed a number with each one he hit. He had a huge grin on his face.

Fresh smirked, his glasses changing to IT’S ON. He teleported around Ink in balls of confetti and sparkles. He didn’t have a pattern, so he had to go by sound alone. At least the rubber duck squeaks weren’t sneaky at all. By some miracle, he hadn’t died in battle from being so colorful and noisy. To be fair, the same thing could be said about himself; Ink was very noisy on his own.

Eventually, all the AUs were gone and his job was done. Stumbling, Ink put his paintbrush away. Exhausted from doing so many at once and still worn out from earlier, he panted. But he was too excited to rest. Creating the AUs was only the second-best part of the process. The first was being able to explore them, their lore, and all the characters built. He had so many to choose from this time! He glanced over at Fresh with a smile. He turned around and held his arms out so it looked like he was holding some of the AUs. “Pick a world, any world!”

Fresh crossed his arms as his glasses changed to HMMM. His finger hovered between AUs until landing on the one with rainbow colors. Skulls were covered with some kind of rainbow goop that dripped down the sides. “Dat one.”

Ink waved his hand and put Broomie behind his back. He held his hands out to make a square and took in a rough idea of what it would look like. The black box appeared with a list of code. Ink learned to decipher it over time. The plot of this AU bubbly children’s show with a darker, more malicious element underneath. It was cliche, but there were so many ways it could go it sounded fun anyway. A fizzy feeling shivered through his bones and he bounced on his feet. He beamed and held his hand out to Fresh. “Undertop it is! Are you ready for this, it’ll be fun, but it might get a little bloody . . .”

“Dat’ll be no prob-blemo.” Fresh snapped his fingers and summoned his baseball bat. It had a sticker that said VIBE CHECK in bright red letters.

Nodding at his words, Ink shrugged and teleported up. He readied his paintbrush and jumped in for a quick new adventure with Fresh.

[bell-arina271]

1/25/2024: Update and Yearly Goals

Hello everyone! First of all, I am SO sorry to everyone who was following me and waiting on updates for the project. I was completely wiped and had a bad turn for my mental health.

HOWEVER the fundraising idea I had in mind is still on track! It’s just taking longer for me to learn everything I need to get this off the ground. A lot of it has been learning new stuff, so it’s taken longer than I anticipated. I was planning to start mid January, but now it looks more like I’ll be launching in February. Hopefully in the first week.

Just so you’re not in suspense, here’s the idea:

I want to create a “logo” for this campaign. Nothing too fancy, but something that symbolizes artistic creativity, and will represent supporting Artist Communities. Then I’ll put it on Redbubble and sell stickers, pins, notebooks, and little things people can buy so that they can openly support the cause while “donating” to the start of it. I work full time, so all my living expenses are already paid for. The profits would go straight to funding the project.

The reason it’s taking so long is because I wanted to have other designs too, in case people don’t like the logo for whatever reason (I’m not a graphic designer, so admittedly, it’s probably not gonna be great lol) so I could give them options. Also, I wanted to open up my sister’s Redbubble first. She has Downs Syndrome and is medium functioning, so she doesn’t understand how to set everything up in the shop. She is on disability and already has housing, but I figured having a little extra income for the fun stuff she wants would be good lol I wanted to make sure she was set before focusing on myself.

Anyway, my initial idea is to still take older multi-tenant places and update them with pure function in mind, not luxury. That way I can keep rent very low. Basically just charging for utility, property taxes, and pay off renovations. Which, split between multiple people should be more than reasonable.

If for some reason that doesn’t seem viable, I’ll take someone’s suggestion of buying land and just bringing up manufactured homes to make a little community. Either way this WILL happen, it just might take me a little longer to figure out how.

I’m still talking to other professionals to see how to do all the technical stuff, but after that I should be able to take charge and start getting things under way.

Unfortunately, it… may take another year after all, because my mom just had a bad turn for her health. Bad enough that she had to quit her job. So now I’m taking over mortgage payments for the house so we’ll be set while she gets the tests and treatment. Before anyone panics, she’s not in the hospital or anything, just having issues with her vision and a few other things. She plans to “rest” for two months while we fix her up, and then get an easier job that’s not so physically demanding. Thankfully she had to quit due to medical reasons, so (I think) she’s still covered from her job insurance lol.

Anyway, thanks for reading. Hopefully my next post will be the grand opening of the Redbubble! :D

Also if any of you are Christian PLEASE pray that I will find time to relax. Things keep popping up triggering my anxiety and making it hard to get good sleep and breaks OTL