#i try and force myself to draw stuff like this now (interactions) and it looks. so stiff. and bad proportion wise but idk how to fix it

[skunkes]

reposting some old doodles i still enjoy a bit

[megangovier]

Two Is Better Than One

Pairing: Michael Myers x fem! reader x ghost face

Summary: You're at home alone on the bed, listening to your spicy playlist. Frustrated you put a pillow on the bed and started to grind on it, not knowing two men in halloween masks were staring at you through the window.

CW: 18+ only | Grinding | peeping Tom's | oral m&f receiving | manhandling | degrading & praising | spit roasting | Choking | dubcon | mentions of slut, cunt | Minors Do Not Interact!

No mention of y/n

Michael talks in this fic!

WC: 959

Friday has come round once again and you can't wait to get home from work, everyone was stressing you out and nagging in your ear especially impatient bosses who orders you around all day and not an ounce of appreciation or something that makes you feel like you're good at what you do.

That's not just the problem, you've been frustrated in the bedroom for a few months and can't take it anymore so when you step inside your flat you're going to have a relaxing bath, with scented candles and roses with a glass of red wine and calming music. Even thinking about being in that bath makes you feel more relaxed in your office chair.

Looking at the time on your phone it read "18:00" a smile appeared on your face "finally, time for the relaxation i deserved" as you stood up from the chair and quickly packed your things away, a knock on the door took you out your good mood "come in.." as the door opened an intoxicating smell smacked you in the nose, turning your head heat crawled up your neck a gorgeous man stepped into your office.

"Evening ma'am, I know you were on your way out to head home but I was wondering if you're doing anything tomorrow night? me and the guys are going for a celebration drink". As you thought about it you agreed and he wrote down the time and his number.

As you locked the office door and headed out to your car, a strange feeling washed over you like you were being watched. As you looked both ways you couldn't see anyone shrugging your shoulders, you put the stuff at the back and got in your car driving away.

Putting Bluetooth on connecting your phone to the radio, slowed down spicy songs came on making your face flushed and a pool started to form between your legs making you whimper "I've got to stop doing this, clearly making things worse for myself" you honestly couldn't wait to get home and have that bath of yours with a nice large glass of red wine for the evening.

A sigh of relief left your lips, you've finally got home. Closing the door behind you putting the bag down beside your draw you ran upstairs and walked into the bathroom, thank god you took the candles and roses out earlier that morning. Putting the taps on you poured lavender and rose body wash in. Walking downstairs to get a bottle of red wine you head back up and turn the taps off.

Taking your clothes off you slip into the bath and relax for two hours. After you were relaxed enough you got out, dried and sprayed fragrance on your wrist, neck and behind ears. Closing the door behind you heading towards the closet you take out thigh high socks, black panties and oversized hoodie. Now in your PJ's you connected your phone to the Bluetooth once again that evening.

As the pool started to grow once again between your legs, you grabbed the closest pillow and planted it on the bed grinding against it. Cute whimpers left your lips. As you were slowly getting to your climax two masked men were peeping through the window getting hard themselves, Ghost Face slipped his latex gloved hand over his bulge "She's fucking begging for it".. Michael was needing a release.

As Michael and Ghost face forced themselves inside your room a squeal left your throat, as you were about to get up Michael forced you back down on your bed closing your legs. Michael grabbed your thighs and opened them "Don't try hiding it from us sweet thing, we know what you were doing. Heat ran up your neck.

Ghost face was salivating, he wanted to know what you tasted like. Michael moved away from you and unzipped his boiler suit, out sprund an 8 inch throbbing cock. As Michael slammed himself into your tight throat, Ghost face slipped his mask up over his nose and got between your thighs heat radiating off your core.

"What a naughty little pathetic slut you're, getting off on this!.." as he grabbed your thighs and started to kiss up a moan left your throat causing Michael to growl "Fuck, just like that princess!" As he fully grabbed your thighs his head went down to devour the needy cunt of yours.

Grabbing the sheets, eyes rolling back a grumbling moan escaped your throat. Michael slipped a hand around your throat making you squirm "Close princess"? Ghost face said.

As Michael growled he painted your throat white, you exploded over ghost face's mask.

As Michael and ghost face repositioned themselves, Michael was behind you positioning himself between your wet lips while ghost face had your throat "open up slut, I know you can take both of us at the same fucking time" as you opened your pretty mouth for him he slammed himself into you. Michael slammed into you from behind, clenching around his cock he grabbed your hair and growled in your ear "Good girl, taking us both so well".

Ghost face took his cock out your mouth "open up wider baby" as you did what he said, he grabbed your face and spat into it "back in now baby" Michael was pounding you faster now making your eyes roll at the back of your head.

Clenching around him, Michael slipped his hand around your neck and rammed you harder making your body overcome with pleasure "come on baby, come on this cock!" As you did your mouth was moving faster on ghost face's cock "holy fuck, keep doing that and I'm going to come" as you did him and Michael exploded in your holes.

@toxicanonymity @michaelmyers-isdaddy

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

hi, im a mutual of yours who is too shy/on&off tumblr to interact, but i do look up to you; and your blog and way of seeing things helped me in the past when i was struggling quite a bit.

Lately I feel as if im lost in life, lost my passions and floating aimlessly without a real goal, detached from the future etc. Do you have any advice? I appreciate ur view on things, hope this isnt overstepping 🌦🌈

hi its ok no pressure too interact w me ona personal level just cus were mutuals i enjoy the ambient bonds that can form on this website its why i stay ^^ and no it's not overstepping at a;ll sorry it took me a lil while to respond i was trying to think of good advice since i often feel lost too---

well firs t n foremost to give credit where credit is due, this bjork reddit AMA response really gets to the bottom of it , ever since i first read this here on tumbr a few years ago it really rly stuck w me:

the way this answer helped me is like, it helped me realize i dont need to be so regimented i dont need to put all this pressure on myself to create..All that does is feed into self inflicted guilt when i cant live up to my own expectations u.u you see for my whole life i've never been able to plan anything. yes i can think about the next steps i want to take, i can assemble a plan, i can see the logical way forward, but my moods. or like, idek. how to explain..

i cant force anything. if im not feeling it, i cant force it. ive STRUGGLED w this like i dont wanna be this way. because my feelings i cant predict. like for example i worked on music all winter because thats what i was feeling. then suddenly in march i just like, wasnt feeling it all of a sudden. As soon as it hit me i was like Fy767*T&UG*** because i didnt know when it was gonna come back. i still dont know!! im just trying to be patient waiting it out..in the mean time i have suddenly become enthused with drawing again after not ~feeling~ drawing for most of 2023. sometimes i go for weeks where i dont take a single photo and then suddenly it starts flowing again.. my website was also left untouched for most of 2023 until recently.

thats just one example of this repeating pattern in my life that i didnt understand for so long. theres years of my 20s where i couldnt feel passion for anything at all, looking back now i believe those times i was meant to be focusing on stuff in my psyche that needed healing to clear out some headspace for art. and this bjork quote put a lot into perspective it showed me how to reformulate my thinking to be more accomodating to my disposition. when i'm patient & kind w myself, take each day as it comes, let go of the imaginary pressure, let go of "the future", stuff starts to come thru easier.

and maube its gonna show up in ways you dont expect but its true that the mundane world offers so many ways to practice being creative & giving u stuff to weave into the art u want to create.. every water fall starts w a single drop its trueits true :] thats my advice i spose i really didnt meant to write this much but im boooored.. actually my nighttime boredom writing is one of those habits i never considered to b creative until very recently. there's so many small & automatic things we do that can lead to a meaningful life & purpose.

thanks for the question anon i hope this helps in some way , this is whats helped me but everyone's process is different. and i still have moments where im like WTFFF is happening but its easier to ride it out now. i wish the same for you just give it time <3 thanks again xPmd9

[sunheart101]

F it 3515 rant (idk if that’s the right word) I posted in my server a while back (putting it here now cause why not)

Apparently the idea was very simple and doesn’t really have that much going on underneath (makes sense it’s an easy to understand SCP, the only possibly confusing part imo is at the very end). Despite being like that it is one of Psul’s best works (overall and in my personal opinion, although in my opinion it is the best that I’ve read). Such a simple idea taken from digging in a garden being turned into that is amazing, Psul excels at horror overall as well.

The horror of it is peak, and while it isn’t personally that scary to me (more sad than scary imo), I can understand why it scared others. A seemingly harmless object hurting you at one of your most vulnerable moments, and not just hurting you, sending you to an extradimensional space where you’re forced to dig your own grave for eternity, surrounded by your corpses. Not only that the fact that it takes a place that is supposed to be a safe and/or nostalgic place, your childhood home, and turning it into a living nightmare only serves to make the situation worse, since until you look outside everything seems pretty normal and like how it was (aside from the drawing being there).

While yes the horror element of it is good I did mention that I think it’s more sad than scary, I nearly cried while reading which barely ever happens. I think it has the best researcher and D class interaction of what I’ve read. The fact that James actually seems to show kindness and compassion for D-6042 is different but absolutely wonderful to see. Seeing a researcher treat a D class as an actual human is so nice😭. The whole thing about him asking what D-6042 would like to eat when he came back, comforting him as he died, stuff like that shows it more directly, but him also letting D-6042 do his own thing if he really didn’t want to do something, and sending a team to try and dig him up also shows it. Also despite both of them only showing up in one SCP and being very simple characters (D-6042 is literally a complete blank slate) I found myself getting attached to them quite easily.

Also while it isn’t said exactly what it is, the absolute mental fuckery that the place makes someone feel is amazing. Seeing D-6042 originally say he can’t go back when the tunnel collapsed broke my heart. His fear of not only the tree but his own house made me feel even more sad.

[pilk0id]

intro post so that i dont have to cram everything into my bio 🦕

da basics: i’m sophie, my pronouns are she/her, i identify as unlabeled (bc i’m still questioning my sexuality), i’m from texas, and i’m 19 years old! nice to meet you :3

warnings n stuff:

‼️ i am autistic!! if you feel so inclined, please use tone indicators whenever possible :3 i can usually pick up jokes, sarcasm, etc. but some tones are a little trickier for me.

‼️ i do not post NSFW on my page, nor do i draw it, so this page is relatively safe for minors! this is both personal preference bc i want my page to be safe for everyone, and bc its lowkey weird to look at idk 😭

‼️ i am a full time college student so artposting (and posting in general tbh) does tend to get really dry during semesters

‼️ DNI list:

homophobic, transphobic, TERF, racist, sexist, etc. (the basics ig 🚶)

proship (loud get out sound effect)

anyone under 13 (terms of service)

autism speaks apologists and supporters /srs

if u dont like seals and horses /j

my interests!!! :D

my special interest has been the ricky gervais show and its associated media & people since 2017! we haven’t been fed in literally years so any interaction about them / fanmade content is so so so lovely :3 my fav is karl (if that isn’t glaringly obvious), but i love steve too! i only like ricky’s stuff pre-2006 ish (extras being the cutoff) because… yuck

my other interests / hyperfixations include:

metalocalypse (i do not like the music of dethklok tho so uhh…….. awk)

breaking bad and better call saul

madchester and britpop music and culture, more on that later (ask me about my pookies)

adult swim in general - shows like aqua teen hunger force, the venture bros, king of the hill, etc.

the 1975 (probably my fav “current” band)

i actually love sports very much, especially bc of college :3

my fav people / characters (both real and fictional):

karl pilkington obvi

stephen merchant

ricky gervais (to a certain extent……..)

charles offdensen (metalocalypse)

saul goodman (better call saul)

jesse pinkman (breaking bad)

jarvis cocker

damon albarn

wheatley (portal 2)

simon (rain dogs - char in my PFP)

rainbow dash (mlp:fim)

george harrison

fav music:

the 1975

the smiths (tomodachi life super all time fav) and their associated solo work

oasis

blur

pulp

suede

the beatles

gorillaz (my first ever real fandom 🤍)

the stone roses

the psychedelic furs

radiohead

random fun facts about me :3

i do colorguard full time in the fall

i collect records and i am the proud owner of the blue album

i am currently on my 2nd relisten of RSK on XFM + the podcasts and audiobooks

i own every single karl pilkington book

i’m trying to start a DVD collection, but right now the only real “valuables” i have are ATHF volume one, the office full series, arrested development full series (?), and a random frisky dingo i got from my dad 🚶

i can’t drive

i do all my art using procreate :3

i have not used the term “smerchette” to describe myself since like 2019

ASK ME ABOUT MY REDBUBBLE SHOP!!!!!

ok i think thats all for now bye :3

[ranubd]

I would like to know what your boundaries are when it comes to interacting with you.

are you ok with requests or questions that don’t have to do with your works

are you ok with receiving headcanons that are not relevant to or may contradict with what you already have 

how many asks are you comfortable with receiving at one time.

Are there other things that you want us to know about fan interaction that I didn’t think to ask about

OK I AM NOW RESPONDING TO THIS THE SECOND TIME BECAUSE TUMBLR DECIDED TO BE A BITCH AND GOD UGHHHHHHHHHH OMG >:((((((.... SIGH

Hi, thank you for asking about my boundaries, and to anyone reading this, I appreciate you taking the time out of your day to look at this! :)

I am super okay with any questions you have about anything. I might not come with the correct answer to these questions, BUT I'll try to answer them either way! However if some questions are uncomfortable for me to answer, I can't put my finger on what such questions would be expect for like, NSFW stuff, I'm really not comfortable with that on my blog so please keep NSFW material/questions/requests to yourself. :)

With requests, if we are now talking art requests etc, then I'll gladly draw most stuff!! I tend to only enjoy drawing stuff I'm fixated on, so if I'm going through a overwhelming time or something due to my undiagnosed and therefore unmedicated ADHD I will probably not be drawing your requests. :(( BUT I'LL GET BACK TO THEM AFTER THE OVERWHELMING PERIODS!! (At least I'll try to.)

I would like to add on this that when I'm in artblock, I sometimes will just draw anything... So I may make a post asking for people to send me their OCs and so on so that I can get the creative juices flowing!! :D

You are again free to send me any of your headcanons even if they contradict mine, because if anything, I can add on to my own HC by yours. 🤭🤭 However, if you do send me headcanons, try to mostly just keep yourself to Hermitcraft/Life Series headcanons or anything related to that because if it isn't about that I really won't have anything to respond to your headcanons. Hard to care if I don't know anything about the topic, yk?

I'm fine with any amount of asks. If you as a singular person have many questions that you feel won't all fit into one asks, then send them as individual asks, I don't mind!! :D

I try to answer asks as fast as I can, but sometimes it may take some time as I do go to school. And sometimes, LIKE YESTERDAY, I may have burnout or I may be over stimulated. If that is the case, I will not be active at all on social media, so don't take it personal if it takes a while for your ask(s) to be answered.

I would like people who view this blog to know that I most likely have ADHD, I'm mentioning this because it's something so recent and it is affecting me quite a lot.

I draw stuff when I feel like it, I genuinely cannot draw unless I get that certain flow going, it's a little hard to explain... But I haven't been working on the comic because I know it's better for me not to force myself to work on it because if I did that, I would risk losing interest in it completely, and that's something no one here wants. :(( So please do try to be patient with me, I may be academically smart, but I'm still a little slow. <33

I HOPE THIS ANSWERS ALL YOUR QUESTIONS!! If there is still something for you, the person reading this, that was left unclear or you didn't get a good or direct answer to, then send an ask to me or send me a message and I'll try to clarify myself. :)))

Also with ibispaints new animating tool... i might be going a little... Nuts... Hehe. AAAAAA 😝😝😝 Not saying anything but, like, well I'll just leave a few very very very fast doodles here.

Steady steady... Pum pum pudum dum dum..

[likegemstone]

I have been in a really good groove with creating lately, and just with like "working" in general. In the past, creating has often involved a massive and constant mental wrestling match against myself—second guessing every decision, fighting through constant discouragement, rarely if ever feeling confident in what I'm working on, etc. Just all this emotional/mental exertion on top of the regular emotional/mental exertion that goes into making art.

But lately I have felt really in sync with myself—we're dancing instead of wrestling. I've been brave enough to try out new things that I've never done before (which is REALLY hard for me, like REALLY hard), and been able to notice and accept the areas of my work that I can see need improvement without beating myself up bc they aren't "good enough" yet. It has been really nice, and has shown me that, when I can care for and take responsibility for myself properly (which I now have the skills and tools to do thanks to a lot of inner work and also therapy), I can learn, grow, and improve pretty steadily, and without all the agony of that fucking exhausting wrestling match.

However.

I made a post recently about how I want to draw Daivad getting his ass kicked (and also kicking ass), right? That is in great part due to the fact that I was, at the time, rereading Kengan Asura/Kengan Omega (which is an MMA manga) and I was Very Inspired. And I still am. I've been gathering reference and inspo ever since then. And today I ran out of Haikyuu!! to watch so I was like okay now is the time—I want to draw some sick action scenes with Daivad.

But then. Here comes the anxiety. The overwhelm. The "there's no way you can pull off some sick action scenes—you can barely place characters in a scene and make it look legit, you want to try to do multiple characters interacting in a scene in extreme and dynamic poses?? no shot. and once you try and inevitably fail then you're going to be discouraged and start beating yourself up again and you'll ruin this momentum we've got going on."

So, this post is going to be me using those tools and skills I have now to work through this. Because I know I can. I've done it before.

First skill I'm going to be using: recognizing what exactly is triggering this anxiety, and figuring out a plan to care for the Part of me that's triggered. I want to ensure I'm making my decisions from Core, not from a triggered Part, and I also want to ensure I'm caring for those vulnerable Parts!

I think the thing that is making me feel so anxious and overwhelmed is because dynamic action scenes are so far out of my comfort zone and I haven't come up with a plan for connecting the dots of my current skill to Dynamic Action Scene Skill. It's a whole big leap, and that Part of me sees aaaaalllll of those, like dozens of really tricky dots that I have not mastered yet (perspective, composition, conveying movement, dynamic poses IN perspective, and so on) and is like "!!!!! HOLD UP THAT'S TOO MUCH I CAN'T FIGURE THIS OUT ALL AT ONCE. Trying to master all that stuff will take literal years and probably good money to pay for lessons from people who know wtf they're doing!!"

So, I'll care for that Part by saying: That's true! And it's okay! I'm not going to try to get the perfect action scene down right away, because you're right. Trying to force that would absolutely wreck our confidence and be really frustrating as well. And I appreciate the reminder that biting off more than I can chew can knock me back a few steps. Small bites are best sometimes.

Next skill, now that that Part has calmed down a lot and also feels steadied: coming up with a plan. I want to draw Daivad getting his ass kicked, but don't currently have the skills to pull off a whole Dynamic Action Scene yet. So how am I going to meet that desire/feed my inspiration (Daivad getting his ass kicked) while still protecting my Parts, challenging my skills, and caring for my mental health?

One dot at a time.

I could start with just breaking down some of my favorite panels from KA. Examining how Daromeon frames his scenes, how he works with perspective, how he conveys movement, etc. But specifically I want to see Daivad getting his ass kicked—so maybe I'll start with just one pose that feels doable for my skill level, use KA as reference for the pose and put Daivad in it, and since I have gotten decent at capturing his likeness, I can challenge myself to put an extreme expression on his face and still have him be recognizable. That's totally doable—it'll take time and work and lots of effort, but it's doable! And it will bring me one step closer to Dynamic Action Scene skill level!

Alright, now I'm feeling excited and fired up and also I have an exact pose in mind and I think I already have it saved somewhere, so I am off to draw Daivad, Bloody and In Pain. Wish me luck y'all!

[koipepo]

despite you not interacting with the fandom as often, do you still like thramsay? also, loving all the all quiet on the western front stuff! havent watched it yet, but i love war history stuff

thanks! AQOTWF is amazing and i hope you'll watch it soon anon. as for your question, incoming walls of texts and rambling of different topics:

i still love thramsay deeply, but i feel more and more like a machine churning out constant stream of fanart with nothing to gain from it. In previous months no matter how well-received or "objectively" good my thramsay fanart are, i looked at them with despair the moment i finished drawing them. Not quite contempt but it's a very nauseating sense of emptiness that can last for weeks, and it feels worse especially in contrast with people's positive reception of my thramsay fanart. I also feel guilty. I desperately wanted to be only thankful because all those comments and messages i received from my fanart; they do make me very happy but that happiness is swiftly crushed by despair, every time. it makes me feel insane bc it's so paradoxical. the more i get praised for my thramsay fanart, the smaller and useless i feel.

I still want to draw them, very badly, but I know what will come after if i force myself too soon: that monstrous feeling of uselessness. That's why for now I don't want to force myself drawing them too soon, in fear that i will end up resenting them for real.

this isn't caused by dark fiction's fatigue btw-i still fantasize about ramsay lovingly carving his mark on theon for days lol but the moment i try putting the fantasy out on paper, i can't forget about myself like i used to automatically do in happier times. instead i become too aware and feel sickened by my hand, my eyes, and everything about me. i still feel that way in some degree when drawing my OCs and the recent AQOTWF fanart, but it's not as severe as with thramsay because of their much-lower engagement.

i know very well that this is because of crumbling mental health. monetary issue, grief, loss of close friendships, inability to emotionally connect to anyone, anxiety... all everyday man/woman has to go through and of which cannot easily be fixed.

right now it's more soothing thinking about outright depressing and death-filled media like AQOTWF because well, i think about death all the time. I feel the world is moving on from pandemic and its victims, including my loved ones, and everybody is trying to bury their memories in order for productivity, for the world to turn again. Like the dead ones are just heavy cuffs to be shed off. i think this is also why drawing thramsay feels harder because it feels like i'm hiding my grief to play my part as fanart-churning machine.

My experience is very different from what's portrayed in AQOTWF and of course much less tragic but the movie heavily acknowledges how insignificant and tragic death actually is, and in turn it acknowledges my loss and my experience of trying to come on terms with it.

i'll stop rambling now. if you read until this part, kudos- thank you for your time and effort! i do still have hope to be able to draw thramsay again and be genuinely happy for it someday. nothing is permanent. wish me luck anon :)

[viviraptor]

Hi ... for the artist ask meme, 4, 10 and 18 ? ^_^

HEYY thanks for sending something!!

4. piece you wish got more love?

if "love" specifically means interaction/popularity then this is a lot harder to answer now than it was years ago. it took me a while to get over the numbers game but i do still get that bummed-out feeling when ppl's enthusiasm for a piece doesn't really match my own, if that makes sense?

i think the last time i felt that way was when i first posted this shrimpship painting, i put a LOT of hours and care into it and i really really love it, i consider it one of the best shrimpship things i've put out. but the notes came in slow in those first few days, and it was easy to compare its performance to the drawings i was doing for a monthly challenge in that same month, that had less time put into them but did a bit better.

but like every time that happens, i found ten times more joy in seeing the 5-6 "regulars" in my notes telling me how much they like it! and my own opinion still stands and that's more important than anything

10. how do you deal with artblock?

in a lot of ways! when i want to draw something but i feel like the process really isn't going my way, what helps the most is just stepping away for a while, for as little as an hour to as long as a day or two. you can't really force yourself to be in "the zone", any attempt to push through usually just frustrates me so i just wait it out.

if i still wanted to draw SOMETHING though i try to make experimental things without the expectation of it looking any good. picture studies usually do the trick, and changing up your regular art process is fun too, like skipping the lineart step or working on just one layer. the point is to have fun and loosen up, eventually i can go back to whatever i was doing with fresh eyes and steadier hands!

18. something you feel like you need to work on?

DRAWING. TAKES. SO. LOOONG FOR ME ANGRY FACE. ideas come slowly in general and i have super deep-seated perfectionism that i'm still whittling away at, the simplest of drawings can take 6 hours, maybe 3 if i really rushed myself. on top of that i try to keep a very consistent neat style for commissions specifically, but that usually results in those pieces taking 10+ hours on average which my prices... don't really compensate for.

that's what makes experimenting and loosening up super important, i need an outlet to make messier things while in the middle of making that super clean thing i'm getting paid for. i'm probably doing better than i was when it comes to perfectionism, i just need to make more conscious efforts to leave good enough alone, especially when the stuff i get hung up about would probably go unnoticed to anyone else... GYAH

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

hi! could i get a howl's moving castle, bungou stray dogs and stranger things matchup please?

general info

lu, nonbinary, pansexual

looks

tall (6'2), androgynous, short black curly hair, black eyes, extremely pale skin, dressing in goth lolita and ouji style

personality

intj, mix of a kuudere and himedere, brutally honest, introverted, calm, quiet, reserved, sophisticated, polite, snarky, witty, sarcastic, blunt, apathetic, intimidating, mysterious, morbid, unfazed

hobbies

science, learning new things, knitting, gardening, cooking, baking, playing chess, taking long solitary walks to secluded places, reading, writing, drawing, sculpting, taxidermy, making clothes and jewelry

likes

plants, animals, insects and bugs, philosophy, thanatology, criminology, anthropology, psychology, mythology

history, forensics, horror media, serial killers, witchcraft, classical, goth and vkei music, classical and gothic literature, dancing, art, poetry, fashion

dislikes: people in general (i tolerate only few chosen ones), noises, mess, unannounced guests

love language

quality time and acts of service

random stuff

i have morbid sense of humor

i'm ballet dancer and figure skater

i sew most of my clothes myself

i like to sing when i'm in the mood

i can play on violin, church organ, cello, piano, guitar, and harp

people hate watching movies/cartoons with me because i'm overanalyzing everything

i like making jewelry

thanks for your time

Hi Lu! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took so long. I hope you like your matchups!

In Howl's Moving Castle, I match you with...

Howl appreciates your honesty even though he may not act like it sometimes. He values your opinion and knows you’re always speaking the truth when you offer your thoughts.

Loves cooking with you. He likes the peaceful atmosphere and the tasty meals and snacks that you get to share at the end are an added bonus.

He’s a naturally messy person but he’ll do his best to clean up since he knows you don’t like mess. No promises though; it’s a hard habit for him to break.

You may have to force him to help you tidy up once or twice a week. But he doesn’t mind; he actually likes being able to spend those moments with you.

Please make jewellery for him! Especially matching pieces that you can wear together. He loves those sort of things and will wear whatever you make him all the time. It’s his way of staying close to you even when he’s far away.

In Bungo Stray Dogs, I match you with...

Poe enjoys your company more than he can ever express. He loves that you’re both quiet people with hidden sarcasm and morbid fascination.

You can avoid interacting with people together. If Poe has anything to say about it, you and Ranpo will be the only people he interacts with from now on.

Please read his writing. Poe loves hearing your feedback on his latest novel and will incorporate your suggestions into his next draft.

He would also be more than willing to read your writing as well and give you feedback. Mind you, his feedback is usually nothing but praise. He just really likes your writing (and you). But if you ask him to give you constructive criticism, he’ll try his best.

Will take long walks with you. Poe especially likes walks in nature where you can enjoy each other's company without distractions.

In Stranger Things, I match you with...

Robin loves your sarcastic side so much. She especially loves it when you open up enough around her to reveal that side.

She seems like someone who would enjoy pearling about witchcraft and things like tarot. Please teach her, she's a good student.

Definitely one to sing and dance with you. Maybe not when there are a lot of people around (she does have a "cool" reputation to uphold) but in a more private situation, she'll let herself have fun.

True crime enthusiast! Robin would definitely listen to podcasts if they were as prolific in the 80s as they are now.

She likes talking to you. Doesn't matter what it's about, she just likes hearing your voice and having a conversation with you.

[cattyanon]

Alright guys, time for me to try and explain stuff from my incredibly wacky dream and then try to turn it into an EXE story.

So the extreme wackiness started shortly after this weird creature was kinda forced/pressured into transforming and then attaching itself to Sonic's arms by some outside force. For story's sake, I'm just gonna have these 'arms' be an artifact that attaches itself to Sonic.

The best way I can describe the arms is that it they were long and kinda catlike. It gave him white hands, claws, and the 'cat fluff' that covered most of his arm was a dark green and looked kind of grassy.

And now we get to the powers and their weird workings and effects.

So there's two main powers he has. I'll be starting with the least wacky of the two, though do note that the order of event in which I discovered these powers is the other way around. Anyways, the first one I'll be talking about is a strange version of time control. It was strange in the way it seemed to work.

Like it was mostly an "at will" thing but then it also had weird visual effects to it, one of which is harder to describe than the other.

So one thing I noticed as I (in the perspective of Sonic) controlled time was that things seemed to become gray and sometimes even grayscale. The other thing... is much harder to explain. But I'll try my best anyways.

So it was almost like some kind of cassette tape thing where I could pause, go forth in time, and go back in time. And while it was an at will thing, I want to say that there were these orange symbols that I sometimes saw in my vision that correlated to what I was doing.

The way the time traveling worked was kinda weird too. Like I could go forth in time but when I did I couldn't be seen or interact with anything. So it was more like I'd been given the power to change the outcome of things rather than completely being able to time travel.

Now for the other power...

Do be warned that this is going to sound kind of weird at first, but hear me out: It was kind of like playing a dress-up game, except certain options did different things.

Like I remember picking something that shrunk me and made my lower half into this sci-fi orb thing I could roll around in but I was also forced into viewing myself in the third person as if I were controlling someone in a video game. Weird, I know, but I did warn ya'll that this dream was really fucking strange.

Another thing about the whole weird dress-up power was that I had this strong urge to try on different faces just to see how weird having it felt. I honestly don't remember much about how this part played out other than it was around that point I was starting to go 'crazy' but it was more like I was becoming increasingly unhinged.

Now from here the rest of the dream was me using the weird time travel powers, so I'm going to tell ya'll how I imagine it when it comes to the story.

So I have this vivid image (and a sound to go with it) of whenever Sonic changes his face and a side effect that comes with it.

Since the side effect is easier to explain, I'm going to get it out of the way first. The side effect being that when he chooses a face expression he's visibly unable to move it. Like you'll be able to hear him talk but you won't see the mouth move.

As for whenever he changes his face, theres a small visual effect you see before seeing the actual chosen face instead of the faces just instantly swapping out. The visual effect for this is a few black lines that you usually see in drawings to indicate something moving. Like there's one long line in the middle and two other progressively shorter ones on both the top and bottom of long line. I hope that makes sense??

Another I imagine is that his eyes are always orange instead of green which is in reference to the time powers.

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this wild ride and that my explanation of it made some amount of sense??

[queenimmadolla]

98% of the POC interacting with that ask answer are seeing the point and now stating they want to be more involved, want to write and want to draw themselves to be that representation but to the 2%, I love you and I see you but I'm not publicly responding to everything you said because I believe you are unintentionally missing the entire point.

No where in that post did I say not to hold white people accountable for white coding anything. I said we can't expect them to write or draw a POC as their self insert or the person they want to be who they imagine the character as (it's not always themselves. I mention pairing myself with Eddie but it's always a fictionalized version of who I wish I was, and she doesn't look like me because I feel the need to cast everything, we can argue it's an OC─still applies). It's just not their default, no matter how much we wish it was (because I do, I swear I do, it would make our lives a lot easier).

Request it, point it out to them, but it's just not their default thought! It's not my opinion, it's a fact. Are some becoming more aware of this? Yes! And we should continue to point it out (you know damn well I'm gonna) if they aren't and hold them responsible depending on how they react (because we see quite a few go up in arms). We can stand around wishing, but it's not gonna do a whole lot. I wish it would, but it's not. Conversations are great, but action is needed. Wanna know how I know? Cause I've been on tumblr since 2010. Didn't start writing until last year, so that means I spent what? Almost 13 years wishing for stuff to happen.

Then I started posting what I wanted to happen. Everything changed for me, other people got to see themselves in my work because I can be accurate and authentic of my portrayal for people who look like me and I'm mad as fuck that I didn't just do this back then, or at least earlier. But it was so goddamn easy for me to say everyone should be including me and they should, but I should be putting myself in that space, too. Pull up a chair. It's not always fun, I know not everyone wants me here because I talk about things like race which a lot of white people are uncomfortable with, but I don't care. I'm gonna force myself in this space, they can talk about me all they want in their group chats but I'm gonna sit here and write for myself and people who like me (though I don't put a whole lot of emphasis on appearance─it is mentioned though─because again, I write a fictionalized version of me, probably an OC and you guys dont want OC stuff, you want x reader stuff so I edit it and while my reader is usually consumable for all races, she is black before anything). The entire point of that previous answer is that OTHER PEOPLE OF COLOR SHOULD TOO as well as having white people be inclusive and not focusing on depicting white people.

But again, we cannot police how they interpret themselves. Have you seen that movie Read it and Weep? Iz was a fictionalized version of the main character, looked somewhat similar (because the actresses were sisters) but were completely different as she was who the main character wanted to be. A lot of people do the same (Me), so even if it doesn't necessarily look like the artist, they're still drawing someone they see themselves in. We can request they be more open with diversity, but please keep this in mind. This is no way venomous or me trying to sound or be bitchy, or side with white people (gag) we just have to be open minded too. I know we don't want to because a few of them aren't being open minded with us, but it's how misunderstandings occur between ourselves, like what recently happened.

Send all the asks you want, but we do need to be openly and publicly apart of this space. Some POC have left, and that fucking sucks, but that means we need more. THAT is what I am saying. If you're speaking about anything else, then you're starting a new conversation. I'm open to it but once more, THAT was my point.

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary398

10/24-25/24

thursday - friday

pumpkin patch was fun:

we just kind of stood around a while, we were gonna go out earlier but something dumb happened, my gf's mom broke her wrist because she went to go yell at the neighbors and decided, walking back, to cut across the little rocks between the houses, instead of just using the sidewalk. my gf's brother even, he was with her, saying let me help you, come on the sidewalk, and i guess she was just so mad about the neighbors being loud(??) that she had to walk back across the rocks and she tripped, in her flip flops, and broke her wrist. since she just had surgery on her shoulder, and that arm's hard to use, and this broke her good arm's wrist, she's now really in need of help, and this situation is so... i know that when someone breaks any bone of their own, they feel like the stupidest person ever, nobody else can find them dumber than they feel. but god. it's obviously sad, i feel horrible for her and when i heard i was really worried. it sucks. i wonder if she was drunk at all or not. but i don't know. this situation is so stupid, because she's also, how to put this, i don't know, basically racist about these neighbors. just that they're loud and not white i don't know. i get being bothered people play music loud late or something but how bad is it when you're separated by a few feet... like even when my neighbors partied when i was a kid, it wasn't really unpleasant. i guess it's different, when you sleep in the living room. i get telling them to turn it down but the way she talks about it. it's a little crazy. and how righteous she feels for fighting people. it's strange. it's strange how people can be like this, after so long, still be fixing to start fights with others, i don't know. i don't know what does it, and what makes it hard to not be like that for some, for that to be the only kind of engine in your life, if that makes any sense. like a productive internal force. productive meaning, well not what you typically associate with the word. life-generating i guess. feeding off of conflict like she does.

am i like that? i hope not. i like messing with people a bit, and being a hater sometimes. but idk. i try to keep to myself and do things mostly. that feels better.

today i did write, more transcribing, about 5 or so? notes app thingies, some bigger, some smaller, quite a few appended to other sections making it less of an issue of like, i won't need to find where to put them, instead, they're now parts of other big chunks that need their place.

i didn't begin drawing daan. i keep thinking though, doing all the characters i finished the game with, that would be a good milestone for me, art-wise, it'd make me learn a lot i think. so i hafta!!

okay, other stuff. tomorrow i'm gonna post pictures from the fair, but i have 2 days of selfies, here's from when we went grocery shopping, i thought it was a cute look idk:

and then me todayayayay:

i like how i look in these a lot... very not ugly but i felt ugly at the pumpkin patch. so... win some lose some i suppose.

maybe i'll say more about this tomorrow, i'll try to, i should try and think deeply about something... but there was some ai generated stuff at the pumpkin patch, super obvious, or, i guess not really, if you're looking you'd see but nobody's really looking. i guess i can just talk about it now but looking at it with my friends, pointing and laughing, and thinking about how these images just work because they're gestures of cultural images, cowboys, aliens, you know, it just functions, no one notices or cares, so i don't know. these images exist now as a sort of thing beyond even 'image' i mean they're like, you don't contend with it, we're so surrounded with images/spectacle that we don't even need to interact with the image, it shapes us, reinforcing us constantly you know, or reinforcing itself upon us, it's the mechanism ai imagery relies on. it's so odd. it's hard to feel positive about it in any way when confronted with it like that, like, here is this infinitely reproducible cultural image, forever, here it is kind of rotten, fucked up, but all it being fucked up and melty, obviously...faulty ? in some way, these faulty images, all that says is rather than something else happening, that's a muck that could be shaved off better off the infinite reproduction line, 3d printing bits that you need to sand down i guess. it's really really odd. it's just shapes now, shape of cowboy, alien, whatever, the shapes then tell you okay, i'm in this theme, i recall someone saying these things help us get closer to sludge, undifferentiated mass, something that makes me think of 'uncreated night' what milton described in paradise lost, it seems less like that, it really is so totally from a perspective, and maintaining a perspective that these images are useful, it's so custodial, it's so useful, it helps create something where something more abstract, something like a white wall, nothing but where you are right now, night in a dusty place with some rocks and terrible food, some rides, that's not just it anymore, you're somewhere a little more themed, it's easier to swallow because it shows you something. showing you something, everything has to show you something, ai imagery is really the endpoint of us needing to be bathed in images constantly, to have the spectacle unfold for us, for these things to be/surround ourselves with, subsumed by the image. it's not about the fact they steal even. it's that this perspective is reproduced, it's that it maintains it. it is mechanical maintenance of a perspective and ideology. i ought to be more... precise about this. but i'm sleepy, it's hard i hope i'm making sense. but this is the mechanism by which alienation is maintained, isn't it, that there's all these things, sketched out, reproduced, ways to be, and not just ways to be, but paths of enjoyment drawn out, not just paths of enjoyment, but images of history, images of out there, images of fun, refers back to numerous other things, we're now seeing the referring back, we're in the mechanical use of these images to more speedily keep up an illusion, the illusion never needed much work or creativity, it's why these are so ready to be used here, just as stuff in the background, that there is a background to life, that this is... life has a backdrop, places need to be certain ways. i don't know... i feel i need something more solid under me to speak about the spectacle here, and the custodial function but the fact, i don't know, the fact it's things you'd never give second thought to, only if you look to see the faults, it feels janitorial, a perfectly unthinkable place, as in, you cannot think about it, you pass through it, focus on the important stuff i suppose, the important part being that you're having fun and totally not being scammed by the ticket prices for rides... and that you're totally not absorbing images which quietly impress upon you, no matter how flimsy they are, what kind of place you're at, and the content of them, everything is so normal.

everyone thought that ai would always be so weird and fucked up, artists always try so hard to not have fucked up anatomy, but ai proves, as does some other art i guess, that if you make something that seems normal enough, people will vaguely look, as we all vaguely 'look' at plenty of images day in, day out, inundated with the things, and accept it.

it's complex and strange, it feels really strange. it feels like there is so much to express, seeing it in the wild like this, not just online, not just in something made to be on the computer, you know... and not from just... some guy, but adorning rides and games at the pumpkin patch. there's plenty of other things out there like that i'm sure, but this feels really, i dunno, these machines, you assume they're decently old, but this is like, they're so so so current, up to date. still death-trappy but the images are new and current, 'current' fidelities at least, it's so much, it's almost as if that aspect as well, within a fidelity that enables the looking past the thing, the creation of the profoundly normal image, the correct image, as in, it shifts, continuously, can be regenerated, but at its root, it will be the thing you remember or know. or the cultural object you know, without any real, as it's derived from some kind of fiction.

i dunno. is this silly? i guess. i try to remain ambivalent or, i guess, i just want my critiques to be different from those which defend copyright, they evidently are still, but it feels really odd to see it like this, just in a place for kids basically, you know. is this just where we are now? i thought it'd be a little bit out. but it's now, you know. i thought stuff like that willy wonka thing was more special. as in, i dunno, unique for being a scam. now that it's been figured out how to make these things reinforce the cultural norms and assumptions, i dunno. it feels very fast, and more easy, than it was with other art forms. maybe not. photography one could say, that was used quickly, anything i suppose always was. but the technology itself, the methods, they feel pointed at this use. passing under a range of being detected or cared about because of the way the images have the dslr high resolution thing going on. i dunno i don't know i dun know.

funny how i get up and walk around and get new ideas:

first, that this once again illustrates the super-human, not as in, super-human like superman or something, but super human as in very human, surpassing nothing, qualities of ai, that it is in line with thinking towards efficiency, ascendancy, teleology applied to all domains, everything can 'be better' and better means a streamlining of the factory floor. thought here as well about scenes from megalopolis, especially the one of the ape's back straightening, the posture... the posture, nothing post-human here this is the imagination directed at the future seeing how to work out right now, this is the teleological fantasy materially instantiated. ai images on carnival rides.

second, this is the more interesting and disquieting thing for me, is that what i described as flimsy images, and we have to be careful to not discuss the quality of these images in terms of ugly, and so on, 'poorly made', but qualities of believability, as in things related to fingers, stuff that convinces you, what you're looking at refers to reality or what one can see, at least, in some way. this is why artists pay mind to anatomy and things, and there are plenty who distort it greatly, but this is, even if done through automatism, even if pointless or something, or, i don't know, this is really beside the point, frequently artists will do things beyond regular or do things which may make their work unbelievable, regarding style, distancing themselves from 'life' or reality. why is it that ai gives me this sense of reinforcing it, i do not think it is because i am wrong, it's not really contradictory, it's simply that ai, by collating so many images, it mirrors a populist vision, it simply agrees with the basic image, it reproduces that thing, it's not flimsy since it agrees with that essential image, perhaps, it's flimsy in any sense of "believable image" and believable here does not mean you believe it is real, it really means, just that it has some tethering to formal constraints common even in kitsch stuff, that things be regular in 'that' way, as in, santa has 5 fingers, instead of, santa at the highest resolution possible, brightest cheeks imaginable, happy as can be. it functions on emotions in ways, as all kitsch does but it does so without needing grounding, or, we are beyond needing grounding because what is sought after, desired, and reproduced, are images which agree, again the populist angle becomes salient here i feel like, it agrees with the crowds, a futurism which propels strong images, or, useless images strongly.

okie dokie... i need to sleep,

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[seitmai]

Linda leaned forward, her eyes never leaving yours. "I'm prepared to offer you a book deal. A three-book contract, to be precise. The advance is generous, and the royalties - well, let's just say they're enough to make even my father's ghost smile."

Making Harlan's ghost smile? That must be a good deal 😌

"The condition," she explained, her voice taking on a steely edge, "is that you convincingly pose as his sweet-as-a-peach fiancé for two years.”

Oh 😬

Linda leaned back in her chair, taking another sip of whiskey. "It's quite simple, really. You play the role of Ransom's devoted fiancée, help rehabilitate his image, and in return, you get your book deal. Three books, a substantial advance, and the backing of one of the most prestigious publishing houses in the industry.” "But... Ransom... he tried to kill someone. He went to prison. How could I possibly-" "Details," Linda waved her hand dismissively. "The public has a short memory. With the right narrative, we can reshape Ransom's image. A reformed bad boy, humbled by his time in prison, now devoted to his charming fiancée and ready to contribute positively to society. We both know the power of a well-crafted story. People will believe anything."

Pff just some measly details, absolutely o big deal lol

"I understand your hesitation," Linda said, her voice softening slightly. "But consider this: you'd have unprecedented access to our family. Think of the material for your future novels. The inside scoop on one of America's most infamous families. Isn't that what every mystery writer dreams of?" You had to admit, she had a point. The Thrombey-Drysdale saga was the stuff of legend in literary circles. To be on the inside, to see how they really lived and interacted? That alone could draw readers in if they thought there was any chance you’d pull threads and weave it into your future novels.

Ngl that sounds really good, even not being a writer, but with that inspo I would maybe become one 😅

You took a deep breath, your mind reeling from the enormity of what you had just agreed to. Six books. A multi-million dollar deal. And all you had to do was pretend to be engaged to a convicted criminal for two years. It seemed surreal, like something out of one of - well not one of Harlan's novels, but whatever romance author was currently trending.

But I would expect that the chances of Ransom murdering might be slimmer with all the eyes on him and his fiancée 🤔🤷🏻‍♀️

He was taller than you expected, his presence filling the doorway. His piercing blue eyes scanned you from head to toe, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "So, you're the lucky lady my mother's picked out for me," he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. You bristled at his tone but forced a smile. "And you must be the charming ex-convict I've agreed to shackle myself to," you replied, matching his sarcasm with your own. "Can we consider the awkward introductions done now?"

They have similar humor, a good start

"Nice place," you commented, setting your bags down. "I half expected to see crime scene tape and chalk outlines." Ransom's laugh was sharp and humorless. "Sorry to disappoint. I save all my murdering for the family estate. This is my sanctuary."

This actually cracked me up 😅

“You can relax. I’m not likely to try to murder you - the memory of the inconvenience of being incarcerated will probably last for twenty-four to thirty-six months, putting you in the clear.”

That at least something 🤷🏻‍♀️😅

"Speaking of, all your stuff was delivered safe and sound, but I took the liberty of having some clothes delivered for you. Can't have my fiancée looking like a struggling writer when we're out in public." You bristled at his comment. "What's wrong with my clothes?" Ransom's eyes raked over you, his gaze lingering a bit too long for comfort. "Let's just say they don't exactly scream 'trophy wife of a reformed bad boy billionaire.'"

I wouldn't say no to a little shopping spree

"It's... stunning," you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. Ransom's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of something - pride? nostalgia? - passing across his face. "It is, isn't it?" he said, his the sarcastic tone momentarily abandoned again. "My great-grandfather proposed with that ring after returning from the war. It's seen its fair share of family drama." "Are you sure about this?" you asked cautiously. "Shouldn't a family heirloom go to someone real?" Ransom's expression hardened slightly.

I loved this moment between them 🥰

Excited to read more of these two 🤗

Between the Lines

Characters/Pairings: Ransom Drysdale x curvy female!Reader Word Count: 4.4k Summary: When presented with a deal you can't resist, you agree to to create an illusion so you can achieve your actual dreams.

Content/Warnings: masturbation, slow burn, forced proximity, fake engagement, annoyed/disgusted to lovers

Notes: This takes place after the events of Knives Out. Yes, all of the movie. No exclusions. Dividers by @vesearartistry and @saradika. My humble offering for week seven of my Countdown to Chris-mas. Thank you @stargazingfangirl18 and @biteofcherry for both indulging some of my plot-talking for this fic!

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You sat nervously in the lobby of Blood Like Wine Publishing watching the gears behind the glass display on the elegant clock above the reception desk.

Up until the death of Harlan Thrombey, the publishing house had published his works exclusively with a new murder mystery being produced and translated into dozens of languages each year like clockwork, the gears and cogs a well-tested as the antique clock on display.

With no Harlan, the publishing house had opened to submissions and you and your agent had made it through the initial rounds of querying and contract negotiations.

But now, only a year and a half after the prolific genius’s death and transfer of ownership to his nurse and friend Marta Cabrera, Marta had sold to a new owner - yet to go public in name, and they had asked for a meeting before finalizing the contract.

You tried not to fidget as you gripped the leather armrests of the chair, willing the minutes to pass faster. The lobby was eerily quiet, save for the soft ticking of the clock and the occasional rustle of papers and the soft clacking of the keyboard from the receptionist's desk. The walls were adorned with framed book covers, each one a testament to Harlan Thrombey's literary legacy. You couldn't help but wonder if your own work would ever grace these halls.

As you waited, your mind raced with possibilities. Who was this mysterious new owner? What did they want? Your agent had assured you that this was just a formality, but the knot in your stomach suggested otherwise. You found yourself studying the intricate patterns in the marble floor, tracing the veins of gold and silver that snaked through the stone like the plot twists in one of Thrombey's novels.

Just as the clock struck ten, the elevator dinged, and a tall woman with perfectly coiffed short white hair strode out, her heels clicking authoritatively on the polished marble floor. She paused at the receptionist's desk, speaking in hushed tones before turning her piercing gaze towards you.

"I assume you’re my ten o’clock?" she questioned, her voice sharp and commanding.

You suppressed a gasp and abruptly stood, smoothing your clothes nervously as you approached none other than Linda Drysdale - the legendary daughter of Harlan.

"Yes, that's me.”

She gave you a once-over, then nodded. “Come with me.”

You followed Linda into the elevator, your heart pounding in your chest. The mirrored walls reflected your nervous expression back at you, and you tried to school your features into something more confident. Linda stood beside you, her posture perfect. In contrast to you, she seemed entirely at ease, tapping away at her phone with manicured nails.

When the doors opened, you stepped out into a hallway lined with dark wood paneling and more framed book covers. Linda's office was at the end, a massive space with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city skyline. The room was dominated by an imposing desk made of rich mahogany, its surface neat and organized.

"Please, sit," Linda said, gesturing to one of the leather chairs in front of her desk. As you settled in, she moved to a small bar cart in the corner. "Can I offer you a drink? Perhaps some whiskey? A gin and tonic? Coffee? Tea?"

You shook your head, politely declining. "No, thank you. I'm fine."

Linda shrugged, pouring herself a generous measure of amber liquid into a crystal tumbler. "Suit yourself," she said, returning to her desk and settling into her high-backed leather chair. She took a sip, savoring the whiskey before fixing you with her piercing gaze once more.

"I've read your manuscript," she began, her fingers drumming lightly on the desk's polished surface. "It's intriguing. You have potential, there's no denying that."

Your heart swelled with pride at her words, but you remained silent, sensing there was more to come.

Linda leaned forward, her eyes never leaving yours. "I'm prepared to offer you a book deal. A three-book contract, to be precise. The advance is generous, and the royalties - well, let's just say they're enough to make even my father's ghost smile."

You felt a surge of excitement, but something in Linda's tone made you hesitate. There was a glint in her eye, a slight curl to her lip that suggested there was more to this offer than met the eye.

"However," she continued, swirling the whiskey in her glass, "there is one small condition."

The word hung in the air between you, heavy with implication. You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. "What kind of condition?" you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Linda smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "You see, my father liked to play games. In his will, he left us with one final trick. I don’t know how much of this you heard or followed in the news, but he left us nothing - his cash and assets, our home, and this publishing house all went to Marta Cabrera, his nurse at the time of his death.”

You would have been hard-pressed to have missed the news because it had spilled over into scandal.

“I don’t expect to see the sixty million, and that’s tough, but I can live with that - I’ve made my own fortune, and neither Walt and his family nor my sister-in-law and her daughter need to continue suckling off the teat of dad’s treasury. The house still hurts, but I’ll get it back - I can bide my time. But this? It only took me eighteen months of patience and strategy, working through subsidiaries and intermediaries, to close the deal on getting Blood Like Wine back in the family where it belongs.”

“I will go public with my ownership by the end of the week,” she continued, “but for better and for worse, the acquisition has ended up coinciding with my son’s pending release from prison.”

“Ransom?”

Linda nodded, a flicker of emotion crossing her face before disappearing behind her composed facade. "Yes, Ransom. As you can imagine, his... indiscretions have caused quite a stir in our family and social circles."

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, unsure where this was leading.

"My son made mistakes, grievous ones. But he's served enough time, and now he needs a chance to redeem himself. That's where you come in."

Your brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm not sure I understand, Mrs. Drysdale. What does this have to do with my book deal?"

"The condition," she explained, her voice taking on a steely edge, "is that you convincingly pose as his sweet-as-a-peach fiancé for two years.”

Your mouth fell open in shock. Ransom Drysdale, the man who had attempted to murder Marta Cabrera and frame her for Harlan's death, and she expected you to agree to this? You stared at Linda in disbelief, and the silence stretched between you, broken only by the soft ticking of an antique clock on the bookshelf behind her.

"I... I don't know what to say," you finally managed, voice a little weak in your shock.

Linda leaned back in her chair, taking another sip of whiskey. "It's quite simple, really. You play the role of Ransom's devoted fiancée, help rehabilitate his image, and in return, you get your book deal. Three books, a substantial advance, and the backing of one of the most prestigious publishing houses in the industry.”

"But... Ransom... he tried to kill someone. He went to prison. How could I possibly-"

"Details," Linda waved her hand dismissively. "The public has a short memory. With the right narrative, we can reshape Ransom's image. A reformed bad boy, humbled by his time in prison, now devoted to his charming fiancée and ready to contribute positively to society. We both know the power of a well-crafted story. People will believe anything."

You felt your head spinning. This was so far beyond what you had expected when you'd nervously entered the building this morning. "And what does Ransom think about this plan?" you asked, grasping for any semblance of normalcy in this surreal situation.

Linda's lips curved into a tight smile. "Ransom will do as he's told if he wants to maintain his lifestyle and eventually inherit his share of the family fortune. He knows the stakes."

You sat there, stunned. The offer was tempting - a three-book deal with Blood Like Wine Publishing was beyond your wildest dreams. But to fake an engagement with a convicted criminal? It seemed insane.

"I understand your hesitation," Linda said, her voice softening slightly. "But consider this: you'd have unprecedented access to our family. Think of the material for your future novels. The inside scoop on one of America's most infamous families. Isn't that what every mystery writer dreams of?"

You had to admit, she had a point. The Thrombey-Drysdale saga was the stuff of legend in literary circles. To be on the inside, to see how they really lived and interacted? That alone could draw readers in if they thought there was any chance you’d pull threads and weave it into your future novels.

And besides, this was your dream: a multi-book deal with a prestigious publisher, the chance to see your work in print, and to potentially become not only a published author but one who with Blood Like Wine’s name and marketing department could be a truly successful author. How could you pass it all up?

“What would you say to four books?”

You blinked, taken aback by Linda's sudden offer. "Four books?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

Linda nodded, a sly smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Four books. And we'll double the advance. Consider it... hazard pay." She chuckled softly at her own joke.

Your breath caught in your throat. Four books? The offer was even more tempting now, dangling before you like a golden carrot. You found yourself leaning in, drawn into Linda's web despite your better judgment.

"I... I don't know," you stammered, your mind racing. "This is all so sudden. What exactly would be expected of me?"

Linda's smile widened, sensing your wavering resolve. "Nothing too taxing, I assure you. Attend some charity galas, be seen at upscale restaurants, perhaps a carefully orchestrated paparazzi shot or two. We'll craft a beautiful love story for the press - how Ransom found redemption through your unwavering support and love."

You nodded slowly, uncertainty swirling more strongly, gut churning because you were actually considering this. You could do public appearances…

“A year and a half,” you countered.

Linda shook her head firmly. “No, I won’t budge on the time commitment. Two years is a bankable amount of time to make sure we turn enough pages to fully close this chapter. But I’ll give you six books.”

Your heart leapt at that, and even though your gut was uneasy, your brain was shouting that this kind of deal was something you could not refuse. “Six books, and the first two released before the engagement period is over.”

“Deal,” Linda agreed.

You took a deep breath, your mind reeling from the enormity of what you had just agreed to. Six books. A multi-million dollar deal. And all you had to do was pretend to be engaged to a convicted criminal for two years. It seemed surreal, like something out of one of - well not one of Harlan's novels, but whatever romance author was currently trending.

"I think I will have that drink now," you said, your voice sounding distant to your own ears.

Linda's smile widened, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "I find a good whiskey helps smooth over even the most unusual of business deals."

You nodded, watching as she selected a crystal decanter filled with amber liquid. The soft clink of glass on glass filled the room as she poured a generous measure into a tumbler. The rich, peaty aroma of the whiskey wafted towards you, promising warmth and liquid courage.

Linda returned, extending the glass to you. Your fingers wrapped around the cool crystal and your eyes met Linda's. There was a moment of silent understanding between you - a recognition of the Faustian bargain you had just crafted and agreed to.

As you raised the glass to your lips, Linda's voice cut through the silence. "One more thing," she said, her tone casual but her gaze intense. "I'll up the advance to five million if you agree to move in with Ransom."

Your GPS led you to the top of a cul-de-sac in the Brown’s Wood neighborhood of Lincoln, Massachusetts. Beautiful trees and a typical New England landscape ushered you up the drive to the midcentury modern home owned by Hugh Ransom Drysdale. It didn’t scream home, but there was no denying it was a stunning feat of architecture - white walls and black roofing framing a structure of mostly floor-to-ceiling windows.

You sat in your car for a moment, gathering your courage. The enormity of what you had agreed to in Linda’s office had been sinking in all week, but this was it. Five million dollars. Six books. And two years of your life pretending to be engaged to - and now living with - a man who had attempted murder.

Maybe approaching all of this as if it was one big plot so of course it had to all work out was a ridiculous coping strategy, but it’s the one you had adopted.

But when the seven-figure advance had appeared in your bank account, giving you more money than you had earned in your entire life, you didn’t have it in you to back out.

If he murdered you, at least you would have paid off your student loans, credit card debts, provided for your parents’ retirement, and put away enough money in a trust for your nephew’s college fund.

The house loomed before you, a monument to wealth and taste that felt utterly alien. With a deep breath, you grabbed your bags from the passenger seat and made your way to the front door.

Before you could even ring the bell, the door swung open, revealing Ransom Drysdale himself.

He was taller than you expected, his presence filling the doorway. His piercing blue eyes scanned you from head to toe, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "So, you're the lucky lady my mother's picked out for me," he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You bristled at his tone but forced a smile. "And you must be the charming ex-convict I've agreed to shackle myself to," you replied, matching his sarcasm with your own. "Can we consider the awkward introductions done now?"

Ransom's smirk widened into a grin, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Oh, I like you already. Come on in, darling," he said, stepping aside to let you in. "Welcome to Hill House Drysdale. Try not to get too attached - I hear it's only a two-year lease."

You stepped into the house, immediately struck by the minimalist decor and open floor plan. The entire back wall was glass, offering a stunning view of the surrounding woods. It was beautiful, but cold - much like its owner, you mused.

The house was a stark contrast to the warmth of the Thrombey mansion you'd seen in news reports. This place was all clean lines, minimalist furniture, and an abundance of glass and steel.

"Nice place," you commented, setting your bags down. "I half expected to see crime scene tape and chalk outlines."

Ransom's laugh was sharp and humorless. "Sorry to disappoint. I save all my murdering for the family estate. This is my sanctuary."

You couldn't help but chuckle bitterly at his dark humor. At least he wasn't trying to pretend this was anything other than what it was - a business arrangement.

"So, where should I put my things?" you asked, gesturing to your bags. Some of your things had been sent off to a storage unit, but the things a moving consultant had determined would come here with you had been packed up and moved earlier in the day.

"The master suite is upstairs," Ransom said, closing the door behind you. "Stay out unless you’re embarking on a conjugal visit.”

You scoffed. “Charming.”

He winked at you, then began to take you through the house. “Other than that, you’re free to roam the house, and I’ll stay out of your space. Living room here,” he gestured around, then walked to the right, and you followed him into a sleek, modern kitchen. “Two Bosch ovens, a six-burner range, your choice of pretty much any appliance in one of these cupboards.”

“You cook?”

It was his turn to scoff. “God, no.”

He walked you through the length of it, coming out on the other end of the living room, and then walking through a dining room with a long black table and another two walls of floor-to-ceiling windows.

Ransom didn’t strike you as one for entertaining dinner parties, making this more of a feature room than anything else.

At the other end, you came to a new wing of the house.

“This is you,” he said simply. “First door office, second is your bedroom and bathroom.”

You hesitated at the transition point from the dining room to the other side of the house.

“What is it?” Ransom asked, turning and putting his hands on his hips impatiently.

“Linda said a contractor would be brought in to install a door and security system.”

“She said could, and you’ve got locks installed, but I own this house, installing a wall and door here is more invasive than I was willing to agree to, and since she’s a real estate mogul she conceded it would altar the property value.”

“I…”

“You can relax. I’m not likely to try to murder you - the memory of the inconvenience of being incarcerated will probably last for twenty-four to thirty-six months, putting you in the clear.”

You frowned.

“They’re nice rooms, state of the art locks, you’ll be fine,” he reiterated, rolling his eyes. “Digital reinforced with an analog component that you’ll have the only keys to.”

He tossed you a keychain with three keys, which you were quick to catch.

“Downstairs there’s another living room that’ll be for you exclusively and a laundry room.”

“So, you’ll be coming through here to do laundry then?” you asked.

“Cute of you to think I do my own laundry.”

Now it was you who had an eye roll to give.

"Speaking of, all your stuff was delivered safe and sound, but I took the liberty of having some clothes delivered for you. Can't have my fiancée looking like a struggling writer when we're out in public."

You bristled at his comment. "What's wrong with my clothes?"

Ransom's eyes raked over you, his gaze lingering a bit too long for comfort. "Let's just say they don't exactly scream 'trophy wife of a reformed bad boy billionaire.'"

You gritted your teeth, reminding yourself of the substantial paycheck waiting for you at the end of this charade. "Fine. When is the first public outing?"

Ransom checked his watch, a sleek, expensive-looking timepiece that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe. "We have a charity gala tomorrow night. My dear mother thought it would be the perfect opportunity to debut our 'relationship' to society."

Your stomach twisted with anxiety. Tomorrow night? That was so soon. You weren't prepared for this.

“Last thing,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “Here’s your ring.”

Ransom reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black velvet box. As he opened it, your breath caught in your throat. Nestled inside was a ring that could only be described as breathtaking.

The center stone was a flawless oval-cut diamond, easily 3 carats, that seemed to capture and refract every bit of light in the room. It was held in place by a delicate setting adorned with two smaller diamonds on either side. Each facet of the ring sparkled with an intensity that was almost hypnotic.

"This," Ransom said, his voice uncharacteristically warm, "is a family heirloom. It belonged to my great-grandmother, passed down through the generations. My mother insisted I give it to you."

He carefully removed the ring from its velvet nest and held it out.

You reached for it, holding it delicately and studying it more closely.

“And I am going to insist that you wear it continually,” he added, tone back to its normal bite, “none of this on and off business. We’re engaged and there’s no reason to risk a slip up forgetting to put it on before you leave the house.”

The weight of it in your hand felt significant, both physically and metaphorically. This wasn't just any engagement ring - it was a piece of Thrombey family history.

"It's... stunning," you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ransom's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of something - pride? nostalgia? - passing across his face. "It is, isn't it?" he said, his the sarcastic tone momentarily abandoned again. "My great-grandfather proposed with that ring after returning from the war. It's seen its fair share of family drama."

You couldn't help but chuckle at that. "I bet it has."

Ransom cleared his throat, his mask of indifference sliding back into place. "Well, go on then. Put it on.”

"Are you sure about this?" you asked cautiously. "Shouldn't a family heirloom go to someone real?"

Ransom's expression hardened slightly. "I’m hardly that sentimental. This arrangement is real enough for my mother, and it's real enough for me. Besides," he added with a sardonic smile, "you're as close to family as I'm likely to get these days."

With a deep breath, you slipped it onto your left ring finger. The final symbol of the elaborate charade you had chosen to undertake.

It was near midnight, and you were worn out and nearly ready to collapse into your bed. The movers had done most of the work, but you still had had some unpacking to take care of and moved the furniture around in your bedroom and the room that would be your office. After giving you the engagement ring, Ransom had left you alone the rest of the day.

You padded quietly through the dining room that connected the two halves of the house to the kitchen to fill up your water bottle before bed.

The house was eerily quiet as you made your way through the darkened rooms. Moonlight filtered through the expansive windows, casting long shadows across the polished floors. You tried to move silently, not wanting to disturb the stillness of the night or alert Ransom to your presence.

As you entered the kitchen, the cool tile against your bare feet sent a small shiver up your spine. You fumbled for a moment, searching for the light switch, but decided against it. Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and the soft glow from the windows was enough to navigate by.

You had just placed your water bottle under the refrigerator's filtered, letting the cool water splash into your bottle, when another sound caught your attention.

At first, it was barely perceptible - a faint, rhythmic creaking from upstairs. You froze, straining your ears. The sound grew clearer: a low, guttural groan, followed by the unmistakable sound of skin moving over skin.

Frozen in place, your cheeks flushed hot as realization dawned. Ransom was fisting his cock and unabashedly enjoying it.

Part of you wanted to flee back to your room immediately, but you were paralyzed, afraid any sound of movement might alert him to your presence.

Your breath caught in your throat as Ransom's moans intensified, echoing through the quiet house. The rhythmic creaking of his bed frame quickened, punctuated by deep, guttural groans that sent shivers down your spine. You stood frozen in the kitchen, your water bottle forgotten as you listened, captivated against your will.

Your body betrayed you, responding to the primal sounds drifting down from above. Heat bloomed in your core, your skin tingling with unwanted arousal. You could almost picture him - his muscular body taut with tension, head thrown back in ecstasy, those piercing blue eyes half-lidded with pleasure. Your imagination filled in the details - the flex of his biceps as he stroked himself, the sheen of sweat on his chest, the way his abs would clench with each thrust into his fist.

You pressed your thighs together, trying to quell the ache building between them.

"Fuck," Ransom's voice drifted down, rough with need.

The raw intensity in his voice sent a jolt through you. Your breath quickened, matching the frantic pace of his movements above. You knew you should leave, retreat to the safety of your room, but your feet remained rooted to the spot.

The sounds grew more urgent, building to a crescendo. Ransom's groans became deeper, more primal. You could hear the desperation in his voice, the need for release. Your own body thrummed with sympathetic tension, your nipples hardening beneath your thin sleep shirt.

Suddenly, Ransom let out a long, guttural moan. The sound of it vibrated through you, igniting every nerve ending. You imagined him arching off the bed, his body taut as a bowstring as he found his release.

The house fell silent once more, save for the pounding of your heart in your ears.

Realizing you were still clutching your water bottle, you turned and tip-toed back to your room as quickly as possible.

You slipped quietly back into your room, closing and locking the door behind you with trembling hands. Your heart was still racing, your body flushed with unwanted arousal. You leaned against the door, trying to steady your breathing.

What had just happened? You'd come to get water and ended up an unwitting eavesdropper to your fake fiancé's private moment. The memory of Ransom's deep groans echoed in your mind, sending another shiver through you.

You shook your head, trying to clear the vivid mental images. This was ridiculous. Ransom was arrogant, infuriating, and had literally tried to murder someone. You shouldn't be affected by him like this.

And yet, the memory of his moans lingered, making your skin tingle and your core ache with need.

When you crawled into bed, you brought a book with you instead of your vibrator, refusing to sate the lust that had been kindled because you didn’t want to risk thinking of him. If you couldn’t resist him the first night living under the same roof, there would be no hope for you to make it two years.

And so you read until your eyes drooped and you were finally succumbed to sleep.

HAPPY KNIVES OUT NOVEMBER! It seemed like an appropriate point during the Countdown to Chris-mas to finally buckle down and write my first Ransom fic!

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[ineed-sprace-andfreshair]

Breathe In And Zone Out

“Now breathe deeply and feel your muscles relax. Feel each part of your body melt. Stay conscious of your breathing…”

Gross.

Just the thought of breathing manually and melting and “fully relaxing” makes me want to smack my head multiple times over just to…I don’t know, shake those thoughts out of my brain, I guess. I want to start scratching at my face, and all of the sudden the air I’m thinking about and forcing myself to breathe isn’t filling my lungs enough, and I thought I relaxed my muscles, but apparently I didn’t and now I’m trying to relax them more, and it hurts [Why does it hurt?], and I don’t want to melt, and why isn’t it working, and isn’t this supposed to be helping and- 

And I can’t just take a deep breath and calm down. 

My therapist tells me that I should do this for anxiety regulation. For the anxiety I do not yet have at the time. For the anxiety caused by this stupid exercise. I can hear her, but chances are, I won’t remember a word she’s said by the time I get picked up by my mom. My brain takes a lovely little stroll out of my head and my lazy eye becomes apparent as I stare at the tissue box- No. Staring past it. Past the table, past the floor, past the underworld itself, past anything tangible. I guess it’s normal for a 12-year-old with ADHD. Zoning out and stuff.

I get into my mom’s white car and contemplate the most important decision in my little life; asking if I can drop my therapist. When she asks me why incredulously, I look at the dirty carpeted floor and mumble my “I dunno I just don’t click with her or somethin’.” I zone out as she paces around the room, talking in between sighs about costs, “are you sure?”, and something about “what if you still need it?”. She gives me a reluctant yes, but I can’t seem to celebrate something that clearly made her life harder. 

By the time I’m a 13-year-old with ADHD, my mother is convinced there’s something wrong with me. More wrong with me. I mean, she’s not wrong, but she’s concerned about all the wrong things. She’s concerned about my ability to make friends that are like me. Trans. She’s concerned I’m too angry. Maybe I am. She’s concerned that me staying inside is going to kill me somehow. Like I’m a finicky plant that thrives on sunshine and social interaction. Missed that bulls-eye by a mile. But it seems nice, anyway. Friends that, while still online, are more tangible than my faceless mutual with a bright neon rainbow Ibuki profile picture.

“Now breathe deeply and feel your muscles relax. Feel each part of your body melt. Stay conscious of your breathing…”

Not. Again.

This time, I’m less panicky, but God, am I mad. Why is this required for a therapy group? I am told to keep my camera on, to have no distractions including drawings, phones, iPads, or even fidget toys, and I am told I have to participate. 

I feel so bored and yet so overwhelmed and I want to bite something and throw my phone across the room, so I do. I throw it, screen already cracked, into my metal closet door, and sit in the corner, ears plugged and teeth sunk into my knee. After my eyes have had enough of being squeezed shut, I look past everything again. I zone out. 

[desn2steph]

Week 8 - items list and desc v1

List of things for design research

------ PS3 & PSVITA: My Introduction to Videogames

Videogames - they quite possibly changed the trajectory of my life. I might have become a biologist or pursued something considered 'more important,' but videogames led me down a more creative path. Is this a bad thing? No. I'm in the field of design because of videogames; they've nurtured my creative inclinations. I'm even writing this essay because of videogames.

Recently, a videogame inspired a shift in my approach to interaction design. I used to find interaction design uninspiring. However, that changed when I played 'Persona 4: Golden' and 'Persona 5.' These games made me realize that Interaction design doesn't have to be boring. Interaction design doesn't have to remain the same bleak thing over and over again. Which I find the industry right now is encouraging.

CDs: An Inspiration from Music

Music is a tremendous source of inspiration for me, serving as a driving force behind my design work. My earlier design projects were heavily influenced by music, and these CDs and vinyl records stand as symbols of my deep passion for it.

Back when I was a kid, during the days when I used to download MP3 files onto my phone, mere music wasn't enough for me. I wanted an album cover to accompany the music. If a file lacked an album cover, I would painstakingly add one using MP3 file editing software. This connection between the album cover and the music held significant importance for me. I believed that the album cover should offer a preview of what the music would sound like.

While most of my music experience nowadays revolves around MP3 players and music streaming apps, I've to buy CD’s and Vinyl because of the experience that it comes with when holding a record or a cd. It comes with posters, liner notes, lyrics and just having something solid on your hands and putting it in a record player or a CD player is an experience by itself that cant be replicated by a music streaming service. So here I have chosen to share to you my collection rather than a phone with Spotify on it

Gaming Laptop. I do everything on my gaming laptop. I Work on this gaming laptop, I game on this gaming laptop, I design on this gaming laptop and I “live” on this gaming laptop. Though it is not perfect but this gaming laptop is mine. I wish it was lighter, I wish it had better battery life, I wish, It had more storage space but this gaming laptop is mine.

This gaming laptop also represent my internet footprint and my internet identity. Im a kid that existed in video games and the internet. Unlike previous designers, if someone is a fan

Those Notebooks.

These notebooks archive some of my old drawings. Before I was really into graphic design and choosing to pursue it as my career. I was character designer by heart that means before designing posters I was designing characters, the clothes they wear, how they look like, what they are and who they are that was what I was designing. This notebook also includes the early drawing of my own personal brand called “Max Stookie”. Max Stukie is my artist’s name. the music I create, the art that I create, and the character designs are all from an artist Max Stukie. While Max Stukie and me are the same person. I keep all the professional stuff and graphic design as myself and Max Stukie represent the more creative hobbies and illustrator side of me. These notebooks also represent him.

So, yes when I was a kid around 13 years old, I was already designing.

The Holy Bible.

Though the Holy Bible had little visual influence in my design directly, I think I can easily say it has influenced the whole way I think about things overall. As a Christian this book is important to me because its what guides me in life and what to do.

Biblical stories and Catholic art have always inspired me. the holy visions and trying to achieve greatness for the glory of God is a great force that pushes me to go further and further.

When I do work, I sometimes think about my actions will this action I’m about to do glorify God? Will this work I will create show my faith in him? If no, I do my best to avoid it. There already have been instances of commissions I had to turn down because I believe it was against my principles.

============

Casio F-91W

This watch keeps me humble in a era drowned by technology. Casio helps me disconnect rather than buying a watch that is always connected I choose the humble Casio F-91W to always be by my side through work and through leisure. This watch represents my refusal to join the world that is always connected to the internet. Though I don’t hate smart watches I just feel like for me personally being 24/7 connected has already affected my life negatively, I don’t want another piece of technology that will tie me up to the internet.

 Casio F-91W also represents another side of me, the side of me that misses the older world, or nostalgia. If you knew me or have seen how I have composed this poster you can tell that I still cling on to “outdated” aesthetics. Like ascii or the consolas font. Again, I believe todays trendy design is too bleak and too corporate. Nothing has a soul anymore unlike the designs of the past (or maybe this is just my nostalgia goggles glued in a bit to tight). This watch represents the joyful past, and the edgier aesthetics of y2k. everything just feels a bit too safe these days and designed to sell a product. No one is jumping across the line to achieve something cool, fun or most importantly groundbreaking. Posters that makes me go “woahhh that’s cool” are rare these days. I salute to those spacemen who pursue designs that are controversial in the eyes of mainstream.

================================================================== Printer.

my humble home printer. The printer is the designer’s best friend and worst enemy, specifically this printer though? Its only my worst enemy. If I had to print something of quality I will not use this printer, but for low quality? This printer…. Does its job. this printer most important feature to me is the scanner. The scanner works well but I hater the fact that I have to log in just to use it, yes, log in to my HP DESK JET account just to SCAN! But because this is the most easily accessible printer and the only one I have at the moment I have to make do.

I had a long relationship with printer before my UX/UI class, printers were my primary source of aesthetic. During my high school years, I would use the scanner to break an image, print it and keep scanning it till it comes out all Janky and messed up. This was where my post-digital roots started. when my design teacher Mr Kearny introduced me to post-digital my reliance to the printer doubled. I believe the printer was the portal from the digital to physical and by tampering that portal we achieve something destroyed and messed up, a bad print job is both human error and printer error. The verry essence of the post-digital aesthetic, nothing is perfect. even if you designed the perfect printer, human input will make the output possibly imperfect

======= Pen

As they say, the pen is mightier than a sword. This good ol ball point pen represents the most basic tool a designer will be using. The mighty pen. Regardless of what kind of designer you are or even what field of career you’re in the pen will be a trusty tool you will be needing.

I have used a pen for most of my designs. I plan everything on a piece of paper then draw it using an ink pen. An ink pen is permanent, forces you to be more careful and forces you to accept those mistakes, and sometimes those mistakes will be an essential part of your design, and that’s a wisdom that I believe in. even though I already own a apple pen and an Ipad the classic pen will never be outside of my toolset for creation.

The pen is a tool to create drafts, plans, stories, sketches and even a bored buster. The pen will never die the pen will live forever. I think even if technology advances to a point that having a digital table with a pen is cheap and accessible. I believe the mighty pen will be used forever.

Bass Guitar

Have I mentioned to you yet how I love music. other than visual design I also create music and I don’t create music, I design music. just like visual design, or UX/UI design, music also has to be designed, it’s an experience, it tells a story or a message. Obviously, you don’t just write music or tell a story as it is through music, no. you must pick the parts of the story that is important that you can fit into a song, what instruments and timbre does this song need? How long will it be and what will be my goal? What will be the audience reaction to this song, and how will create this song? Though these rules are arbitrary these days because really, what is music?

As I mentioned on previously, I’m very musically driven person. Sometimes I feel like I have an ability to translate music into digital design and vice versa, this is my design superpower.

I’ve chosen this bass to represent that part of me, though I have other musical instruments I could have shown you, I chosen the bass guitar because of the visuals I have attached to it. The memories and the fact it’s the first instrument I picked up.

=========

Wallet.

It’s simple really, MONEY MOVES. I’m probably more inclined to do work if you pay me a reasonable amount compared to doing something that is volunteer work. MONEY MOVES, I moved to UX/UI design because I believe I can make more money from this career.

MONEY MOVES.

IPAD

This is my iPad represent Max Stukie the character designer and illustrator part of me. this is one of my more important hobbies that I have been doing as a kid. It’s a more laid back and relaxed type of design because simply put it, its fun! This is the design I’ve been doing even before I even knew what design meant.

Max Stukie isn’t just a brand I made. Its also me, It’s the creative side of me and it’s the rebellious teenage side of me that still stuck inside. I fear the day that I have to let go of Max is the day I lose my creative youth. His creativity really pushed me to go further and explore creative areas that I have not explored. Max Stukie pushed me to find an aesthetic that I can stand on, and through this creative research that max Stukie has pushed me to do I finally understood how I want to represent my self in a the community of designers.

ID

This is who I am, I choose these IDs to represent me. Who I am, what I stand for and what I believe in. these questions were a difficult thing for me, around 2021 I was asking this question for the first year of university as part of our concertina, because I realized I never really asked who I am. I always though “who I am is who I am|” but really it isn’t that simple. Only recently have I slowly understood myself, what I am, what I stand for and what principles I believe in. Alexander Hamilton once said, “Those who stand for nothing, fall for anything” and I believe that. I thank the people who pushed me to understand myself even more and through that understanding of self I have chosen something firm to build my house on.

Traffic Cone

The humble Traffic cone is a important figure in my history of design. at one point in time I had a weird obsession with traffic cone, first started as a gimmick in my Instagram stories and it devolved into taking as much photos of traffic cones as possible. Traffic cones represents the design principles I believe in, the ideas of grit and mess of it; The clean orderly industrial design forged in a factory, so each one is the same; the orange and Hi-Viz that demands the audience’s attention and most often the controlled chaos that it comes with it when they’re in use with a group. Most importantly the light that shines the darkness.

Coffee

The working mans drink. If music drives my creativity, then coffee drive me literally. I get migraines when I don’t drink my coffee, I don’t work as well if I don’t have my coffee. As much as I hate to admit it, I’m dependent to coffee and I will suffer without it. I need to design with coffee, and I get mental clarity and focus with it. My ideas shine and flows when I’m boosted by caffeine, but sometimes you might get ideas of a schizophrenic man.

Idea of dependency to caffeine haunts me, because in my personal principles I prefer not to be dependent on any substance, but coffee has gotten a hold of me and the society around me. Is there something wrong with it? No, I wish  not to be dependent to it.

95bFM poster

95bFM has served me well allowing me to experiment my ideas with an actual outside audience watching, I’m like an intern there. 95bFM supports the ideas that I follow of a music driven station., Its not about the money (kind of) but it’s about sharing the great works of local musician and I’m all for that. This volunteer gig I’m doing with them allows me to improve and get used to an office like environment because other than doing graphic design with them. I also get to do news for them which also allows me to have a greater understanding of the world around me, because I literally have to find and read news to write about, through this greater knowledge I can extrapolate world news into my overall designs and creation.

I believe every little thing can inspire a design even world news that has nothing to do with anything design related. like a butterfly effect it can push little things in my mind and create something with it, create stories, create visuals, create chaos and deeper understanding not only with the world and the object I’m designing but also myself and how I fit in a society, a community and what I can do about it to make the world slightly a better place through my designs as well as my creations.

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Swiss Grid

This book taught me the importance of staying in line and follow rules. The essentials of modern design all stem from following rules and understanding what is essential and what is not. This book represents my understanding of the complexity behind simplicity. Something simple isn’t just simple. Behind is rules, lines, principles, and deep thought buried in it that the audience don’t see. Though my designs don’t reflect Swiss and modern design and most of my designs are not simple either, my reliance to the rules has taught me how to break them the right way. Since I was a kid I was taught how to follow rules and even growing up as a Christian I was taught the importance behind them. The older I get the more I realize some of these rules are arbitrary and useless, rules that don’t accept progression or self-expression; rules that doesn’t even follow my beliefs, though still even with this epiphany I still understood its importance. I understand why rules has to exist and why we must follow them. A world without rules is chaos and a world full of rules is depressing. I finally learned how to follow the thin line in between both worlds of Post modernism and modernism; and I have chosen a pdf printed copy of the Swiss Grid book to represent my rebellion and my allegiance to the rules.

Phone

The phone, we can never get away from it. Its around us and we need it. Our reliance to our technology that fits in out pocket has excelled humanity to the starts, figuratively and literally. Our phone clearly has changed how we designed things. for a lot of Instagram designers, you will see a trend of having over simplified posters and large text for readability since because its target audience is on Instagram. Though print isn’t dying, pocket screens will definitely a hard competition. A device that can show any information you want through a pic of a QR code or a download that your guest can access anytime, compared to a Pamphlet that has to be printed a million copies cause bigger and more expenses. These are one of the things I though about when I decided to choose to move my degree to interaction design, I don’t think print is dying but I prefer to be in the more technological side as it seems as if this is the one that is calling me. I choose this old beat-up Alcatel phone I had to represent the humble phone, the phone that change the landscape of design drastically.

THE ARCHIVE

The archive contains all the ephemera that I find valuable. A piece of historical importance in my own history. to most people all they see is a box full of posters, doodles, sketch, notes and documentation, but to me these are all piece of a puzzle that I can combine to make something new. I have always been a creator as a kid, back when I still used to live in the Philippines, we had a backyard full of stuff and junk and I would uses those junk to make something out of it, like that one time I made a taser. Back in year 12 and 13 my go to method of creation is collage both digital and physical. I always collect ephemera with me and with those dead documents will reborn a new piece of design. this box represents a grave and I’m a mad scientist that will ‘Frankenstein’ each pieces into another living piece of design

>EYE SEE YOU

The project that cemented my interest. Before this I didn’t really have a style yet. My design identity was lost in the sea of ideas I had in mind, but this project changed that. The awareness campaign zine/poster project I did in 2022 help me understand how I want to look like within my community, these are like the clothes I wear to the club. If I describe how it would look like, I like to describe it as “digital-punk with a hint of post-digital”. This aesthetic is a mix my punk origins and digital design ideas into one thing. I choose this poster to represent it as I believe this is the project that help  me understand my aesthetics.

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