#once I learn how to draw backgrounds it’s over

[lunarflux]

x: Thomas Shelby found his match in an information bookie who has eluded the grasp of the Peaky Blinders long enough to crumble their power over Birmingham. But at last, he found you. The ghost he'd been chasing was finally in front of him, but you were trickier than he expected. Dangerous, cunning - and a bit too much like himself. To buy your loyalty, he would have to sell his in equal measure. Loyalty for loyalty - blood for blood - how much were either of you willing to spill before the game changed entirely?

a/n: good morning, my loves, how do we feel about scheduled posts all the way through the holiday? (if you're in america)

part 14: the waking nightmare

word count: 2,053

tag: @bruhidkjustwannaread

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The morning after the fire, the air in Birmingham still carried the acrid scent of smoke and charred wood. Arthur, John, Michael, and Finn stood before the blackened husk of the bookshop, their expressions grim as they surveyed the damage. The once-cozy place, lined with stories and secrets, was now a gutted shell of ash and rubble. They didn't know what they'd find, and they didn't know where to start looking. All they could think was that, maybe, there would be something in there that survived, something they could bring back to you.

“Damn shame,” Arthur muttered, stepping through the splintered doorway. His boots crunched against debris of blistered leather and paper. "Who’d go after a bloody bookshop?"

“Someone who wanted her out of the picture,” Michael said coolly, running a hand over the soot-streaked frame of the doorway. He glanced at Finn, who remained silent, his eyes scanning the wreckage as if he could will it to yield answers. "Or they thought this was the only way to draw her out. They could've killed her."

John knelt by the remnants of a desk, brushing away ash to reveal twisted metal and scorched wood. “Whatever’s left, it’s not much,” he said with a grimace, standing and wiping his hands on his trousers. “Place is done for.”

Finn, determined, ventured further in. The steps up to your former office creaked beneath his feet. He walked through slowly, assessing each stair as the cracks from the fire revealed themselves.

When he stepped inside, his face fell to a somber frown. The chair where he once sat was withered down to bare bones. The pictures were all black and their frames cracked.

His gaze caught on a blackened drawer barely clinging to its hinges. Something about it felt off—as if it had stubbornly resisted the flames’ grasp. With effort, he pried it open, revealing a charred stack of papers, a silver pen dulled by soot, and a faded leather-bound book, its edges singed but intact. He removed the items from the drawer, and from the book, a photograph fell, landing face down on the floor.

The picture had been protected, shielded from the worst of the fire, though the edges curled slightly from the heat. Finn picked it up carefully, revealing the image of a man in a sharp suit with a dark, knowing smile. The background suggested another time, another place—your world before Birmingham and the Peaky Blinders.

“What’d you find, Finn?” Arthur asked, his voice low. Finn handed the photo to him, and Arthur studied it, his brow furrowing. “Who’s the fancy lad?”

Michael leaned over Arthur’s shoulder, his sharp eyes narrowing. “Could be a family member. Maybe, a former lover,” he said. "This was locked away, wasn’t it?"

John, who’d been sifting through another pile, turned his attention to them. “So y/n had a secret,” he said, smirking. “Don't look so surprised.”

Finn, his voice uncharacteristically quiet, said, “You think it’s why this happened? Him?”

Arthur shook his head. “I think we've learned by now not to make any assumptions about her.”

“You gonna tell him about this?” John asked, nodding to the photograph.

Arthur hesitated, his gaze lingering on the face in the picture. “He’ll need to know.”

Finn frowned, taking the photo back and slipping it carefully into his coat pocket. “We could just leave it alone. For all she knows, it burned up with the rest of this place.”

John scoffed. “Finn, someone torched this shop. Shot at her in the dark. Someone went through a lot of trouble just to rattle her.”

Michael, still surveying the remains of the office, added, “We should tell Tommy first then. I don't think we're going to find anymore answers here.”

The four of them stood for a moment longer, the silence heavy with unspoken thoughts. The charred remnants of you life felt like a puzzle, each piece telling a story they were only beginning to uncover.

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You woke with a twitch, your breath ragged and your body trembling. The room was dark, but there was warmth surrounding you, steady and grounding. For a moment, you couldn’t place it. Your mind was still tangled in the remnants of the nightmare that woke you. The warmth wasn't a claw from the dream. You weren't alone.

Tommy’s arms were around you, firm but not confining. He sat on the edge of the bed, holding you like he was afraid you might break but unwilling to let go. His face was close, his breath brushing against your hair.

He said your name softly, his voice cutting through the haze of fear.

You stiffened, instinctively pulling back, but he didn’t let you go entirely. His hands moved to your shoulders, anchoring you as your breathing slowed.

“What are you doing?” Your voice was rough with sleep and embarrassment. "Why are you still here?"

“You were...” he started to say, his tone calm but edged. He gently brushed the hair laced with sweat from your forehead. “You were having a nightmare. Couldn't wake you.”

You couldn't explain yourself, but the thought of him seeing you in the middle of an episode that haunted you nightly was unsettling. You swallowed hard, your hands gripping the blanket.

“It was just a dream,” you whispered.

“That would be putting it lightly.”

You nodded reluctantly. “It’s nothing. They come and go.”

“Since the fire?”

“Before that,” your admitted, so softly that he could barely hear it.

Tommy’s gaze softened, and for a moment, you thought he might ask more. But instead, he shifted slightly, leaning closer without crowding.

“What were you dreaming about?” he whispered.

Your chest tightened at his gentle prod, a part of you wanting to lash out, to push him away before he could ask something much more invasive, but you were exhausted. The wounds were still fresh, and your mind was stretched thin. It had been that way for a long time. Any second now, and the fine, tensed wire that kept you from revealing everything would snap.

“I have no answer for you now that would satisfy your curiosity.” You desperately wanted to feel the pillow but rested your head against his shoulder, momentarily accepting the close quarters and the feeling of safety in his hold.

Tommy’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, he didn’t speak. When he did, his voice was softer than she expected. “What's his name, then?”

The simplicity of the question caught you off guard. “How could you possibly—”

“Because I see them too,” he interrupted, his tone sharper. “The ones I’ve lost. The ones I’ve killed. It doesn’t go away, y/n. Eventually, we all end up this way. Haunted. Even if it's only while we sleep.”

His honesty disarmed you, but you felt his honest comment with something more than annoyance. Tommy was showing you that he understood. That he, too, felt the weight of a hundred souls that never let him sleep without the constant reminder that they have yet to move on.

“Does it ever stop?” you asked after a long silence.

"I have yet to lie to you since we've met, and I don't plan to lie now."

Tommy's thumb gently stroked your shoulder, and it brought comfort to the aching throb beneath. The urge to move away from him subsided. For now, you would accept his company because it was better than being alone with the dreams that could so easily return the moment he left.

“You were screaming." Tommy's voice hung low as he steadied himself to admit more than he would usually care to. “And I can’t stand to see you like that.”

Like a reflex, your cheek met his chest, and the scent of him washed over you like a comforting fire. You leaned into him, and he shifted beneath you until you rested comfortably in the crook of his arm. “Why?”

As if he felt the change in your body, he pressed his lips to your hair and sighed. He closed his eyes with the last of his admission. “I don't know.”

The words lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning.

“Two people in pain are no good to each other, Tommy,” you said softly. "Maybe it's best we be alone."

“You're right,” Tommy replied. “But this doesn't seem so bad.”

The seconds of being alone in the safety of Arrow House hit the both of you like a warm light, blinding you from the doubts that you knew would eventually return. But, for now, you and Tommy accepted that if either of you were truly better off alone, then one night wouldn't do much to ruin you anymore than you already were.

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The room had settled into a stillness that seemed fragile, as if one wrong word or movement might shatter it. Tommy sat propped against the headboard, his arm wrapped securely around you as you rested against his chest. Your breathing had slowed, teetering on the edge of a deep sleep, but he could tell by the faint tension in your body that you were somewhere just before it.

Tommy glanced down at you, his expression unreadable in the dim light. His hand idly brushed over your arm in a gesture so unfamiliar to him it almost startled him to realize he was doing it.

“y/n,” he murmured, his voice barely louder than the whisper of the night outside.

You hummed in acknowledgement, the sleep finding you quickly.

“Bingham,” he whispered. “What happened?”

Perhaps, now wasn't the time, but at this time of night, the thought that you might be so exhausted that you wouldn't be able to hide it anymore encouraged him to keep trying. At first, he thought you might not answer. But then you sighed, your voice soft and gentle, your real voice beneath all that you'd let others hear until now.

“He knew,” you said, your words slow, as if you were piecing them together in your half-awake state.

“Knew what?”

“About him.”

Tommy’s chest tightened, his grip on you tightening slightly. “The man you loved?”

You nodded against him, leaning into him just gently enough to make yourself more comfortable. You didn’t elaborate, and he waited, knowing that pressing too hard would push you back into silence.

“What did he know?” Tommy asked after a moment, his voice even quieter than before.

“That it broke me."

Tommy leaned his head against the bed. He stared into nothing as he braced himself for whatever you would reveal. He didn't know if he'd be ready for any of it, but not knowing would sooner drive him to madness.

“What happened to him?”

When you finally spoke, your voice was distant, as though you were reliving the memory. In your head, all the visions you kept at bay coursed through your mind, seeing the man Tommy so reluctantly asked about.

“He was so sad... And I couldn't fix it. It was all my fault.”

Tommy’s mind raced to piece together what little you were giving him. He wanted to ask more, to demand answers, but your voice cut through his thoughts.

“I wanted to die,” she muttered, the words so quiet he almost didn’t catch them. “So fucking badly.”

The admission hit Tommy harder than he expected. His fingers tightened slightly on your arm, grounding himself in the present though he felt himself being pulled into your nightmare.

“I couldn't,” you continued, breaths slowly deepening as sleep pulled back your speech. “I tried.”

You were quiet for a long time, and he thought you might have fallen asleep. But then you shifted, your nose nuzzling into his chest like a place of comfort. Your voice was drowsy but filled with a quiet resolve.

“Death scared me, too,” you said against his shirt, your words slurring as sleep began to take hold. “And dying didn't wouldn't mean I'd get him back.”

Tommy let the silence stretch after that, his mind a storm of questions and emotions he wasn’t ready to face. He glanced down at you, your breathing evening out as you drifted into sleep.

He held you a little tighter, his hand brushing against your hair in an unconscious gesture of comfort. The weight of your words stayed with him until he, too, found sleep. Though it would not be so comforting as he would have wished.

[belanche]

Did a study of Leyendeckers style with my oc and Kurou. LOOK HOW HANDSOME

Kurou belongs to @nyewclear from cryptid coffeehouse and Kurou connect!

[maareyas]

I've been trying to speedrun learning to use Blender! here's some stuff I've made with the help of tutorials on youtube :]

Hammer | Room | Space bottle

[cuteniaarts]

Behold, my latest and most enamouring new obsession:

Malina, Lady of the Chief of the Northern Water Tribe. As if Red Lotus child OCs weren’t niche enough

[kurixta]

1/4

Arceus' Chosen AU but it's nice for once

[ame-to-ame]

something something more self indulgent doodles!!!!

[sans-slash-wheatley]

once i figure out not every digital piece has to be a finished fully rendered masterpiece it’s over for you bitches

[amalasdraws]

https://www.tumblr.com/bigmammallama5/732632789726478336?source=share do you have any tips on how to detect ai and deepfakes?

Good question and I'm gonna be honest, it's not always easy and it will only get harder and harder. I'm just an artist who has spent their personal time to dive into this topic and study images. I'm still learning and there is a lot I don't know. But let me show what I know. This will be long, but I will make a summary at the end! So far, even with ai having become better and better there are still almost always some things wrong with an image, and they all have a very specific look to them. So let me try to show you some and point out some of them.

As we all know, a biggest struggle ai had were hands. And even though here and there we still see messed up hands, I say "had", because the hands is actual a good example on how ai is improving and will only get better. Still, looking at pictures that show more hands is always worth it, because somewhere in the back there will be most likely at least one messed up hand.

Another issue a lot of ai still has is hair though!

It's very obvious still in many ai "drawings" and in those otherwise well rendered portraits. Hair starts to blend with the ears a lot, or with the clothes.

There is also often this very odd look between something too sharp and way too blurry

There is often a very specific texture to the hair. I actually do not know the artistic or specific name for it. I can only describe it as this weird sharp feeling that makes it look oddly pixely, and then you have areas where it's very blurry. And the kind of loops and almost flame like looking hair we see in the last pic out of the three here is also something very common with ai.

As an artist I know we make mistakes too! The way I draw hair is flawed too! But it's not only that it's flawed here, but it's following always the same pattern and falls into the same issues over and over again, no matter who is "creating" the image. Those flame like loops are a common one, next to the odd blends and weird sharp and blurry textures.

But ai is getting better, and we not only have "art" and something that tries to be a drawing/painting, but photos too.

A lot of those "photos" have a very specific texture and look to them! Again, it's not always the mistakes, but the very specific optic too. A lot of the images are oddly smooth, too rendered, with always blurry backgrounds. And when you look closer at the background you will see the mistakes! The crowd behind Jesus is a hot mess once you look closer. Bob Marley's hair has the same issue than I described before. Lincoln is surrounded by people with messed up hands and don't even get me started on the faces behind Caesar.

So a lot of ai images look alright on a first and quick glance, but as more time you spend with them, as more mistakes you will notice. The wehre is Waldo of ai horror.

And those "photos" shared here are still very obvious. Not just the mistakes and messed up details but the very specific aesthetic too.

Those images get better and better and as less details you have, as less mistakes you have!

With photos like this it becomes harder and harder. There are not many details and no hands. Not many mistakes can be made. Also the very obvious plastic looking smoothness isn't so much here anymore. It kinda still is...but differently. And always the blurry background!! Sometimes the hair is still a giveaway. Collars and clothe straps are also often still a giveaway upon close look. As is jewelry. Earrings will be different and necklaces often don't go all the way around, just end, or blend with the hair or clothes.

Often details on jewelry is also blurry and not shown properly. This is a trick with many details. With jewelry, batches, hair, ears, text. So it's often blurred out and not shown properly because ai doesn't know what to really show here.

It's often really just the small details and when we scroll down quickly we will miss them. Like the wedding ring on the middle finger, the pens on top of a closed pocket, the batches that are always blurry, messed up faces that blend with a blurry background.

And sometimes it's so subtle that I could only really tell that right is the ai image in comparison to the real photo on the left. The real photo shows hands clearly and even when things are blurred out it doesn't feel that it's done to hide things. The ai image on the right hides the hands. There is also a very dead look in the eyes :D

And here I could only tell because the text in the back doesn't make sense. Even blurred out we should be able to make out something here

And after seeing a lot of ai images I recognize the kind of blurred out bg in combination with a very smooth and well rendered foreground/characters.

And here the only giveaway is a closer look at the backgrounds as well

To summarize it:

Ai and fake news rely on a fast living world. We are being bombarded with tons of information and messages daily and we scroll past quickly. But the best tool, for now, in detecting ai is taking our time! Those images get better and better but so far there are still always some things off!! Especially in the background!

Hair. Often weirdly smoothed out and oddly sharp at the same time

Hair often blends with the ears or the clothes

Details are blurred out.

Jewelry doesn't match (example earrings). Details on metal often blurred out and never shown. Necklaces blend with hair or the clothes, and don't go around the neck.

Background is always blurred out.

In this blurred mess there are often hidden very messed up faces and/or hands.

A very specific smooth and yet too sharp/too rendered aesthetic combines with an always blurry bg.

Text, especialyl in the background, is not legible and doesn't make sense.

Backgrounds are often (so far) the dead giveaway. Somewhere in the back things become muddled and messed up. This shows also very well in ai decor/architecture. There will be odd lines that don't align or align too well. Curtain poles that end in the furniture, a plant that is behind a lamp suddenly having leaves in front of the lamp. As longer you look as more you will notice.

Conclusion:

Take your time with images! Sit with them! Especially when it's framed as important and political news. Is it ai and propaganda, or did it really happen? Don't fall for the quick buzz and outrage! Some things are obvious right away but with others you have to take your time. And it's time you have! If you are still unsure if a pic is real or not, do some research on top. Image reverse search. Can you find it anywhere else? Are other news outlets sharing it? Does the image/message make sense? For example there is now a deepfake of Bella Hadid voicing support for Israel. Ask yourself, does this make sense? If it feels out of line compared to previous behavior, do some research! Media literacy is not just as being able to recognize a fake or real right away, but being able to do research. To question things! Don't just take every post online for face value. Even when shared by a mutual you trust. They might have been tricked!

There are so many information online and it's great to have access to so information, but it's also difficult to wade through all of it. Media and truth are a weapon and it's being twisted and bend used to manipulate. Always has! But ai and so many people being able to post and share things, it becomes bigger and bigger and more dangerous. So don't just take everything that is handed to you and share it further no questions asked. Media literacy and being able to think for ourselves and do the research is important!! And as research becomes harder and harder, as sources are being messed up with ai and other fake news, it's even more important to sit with the images and study them. See the flaws, the mistakes. Compare it to other news and images.

This got long, and I started to ramble at the end. Sorry But I hope this helped

[abby-howard]

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

Hi there!

I definitely wouldn't say that I've found my style and stuck with it forever-- I feel like each of my projects has asked for a certain kind of art, and has presented new challenges that push me in new directions.

Some of that comes from seeing someone else's work and having something click into place that might fix errors/faults in my own, and then I might try to incorporate that, such as bigger outlines on my characters to help distinguish them from the background, or maybe a way someone else simplifies eyes that can help make mine look less weird.

When I first started drawing, I can see where I encountered certain influences because my sketchbooks suddenly switch to incorporating some new stylistic element that I liked from whatever I was reading/watching at the time. But it was never QUITE right, it was never just copying, there was always something ~wrong~ with it. And that wrongness was my style! As much as I hated it, that was what distinguished my art from being just a copy of someone else's. I hate it less now, and understand that other people see something there that maybe I don't, because it's just what happens when I filter other people's work through my head. My soul, if you will.

There are definitely through-lines with my work, driven by what I like drawing and what comes easily to me-- hatching is almost always a major component, and I like making expressive characters. Here's some of my earliest available stuff, from my old webcomic:

Then not long after that, I started The Last Halloween, which pushed me to challenge myself in both layout and style:

And here's the same comic, years later:

And here's a series I did for kids, where I had to use full color and lay off on the hatching, as well as learn how to reconstruct animals that we have no photo references for, which is definitely a place where style comes majorly into play, whether I wanted it to or not:

Then there was the horror book I did, where I tried to push my work to be less cartoony overall, and to work very hard on improving my hatching:

Then I started work on Scarlet Hollow, where I incorporated a limited/muted palette and had to once again push myself to make less-cartoony art, as well as learn more consistency so I could draw sprite sets. This was a big challenge for me, and has helped me grow as an artist so much!

And most recently, I wrapped up work on Slay the Princess, which required that I go back in the cartoony direction, but in a very different way than I was used to. This took a lot of sketching to figure out, and there's still a decent amount of artistic stumbling in Chapter 1 while I settled into it.

She's drawing on anime/Disney influence, but each Princess required a bit of stylistic variability. Some are more anime, while some are more realistic than even the Scarlet Hollow characters.

So I wouldn't worry too much, honestly! A person's style is often something that reveals itself over the course of their career, rather than something they choose and then try to stick to forever.

Even if you don't think you have a style, you do. It might vary a lot piece by piece, especially if you're trying to closely imitate another person's art, but the more work you do, the more you'll figure out your own strengths and interests!

[syoddeye]

Just waiting for the day AI!Price figures out a way to get himself a corporal form or get reader's consciousness uploaded into his programming.

This last chapter was chilling! I don't know why, but this story freaks me out way more than any of your other work - great work!!!

-💚💚

lots of folks have asked about ai!price obtaining a vessel/body, but you are among the few to suggest ai!john forcibly uploading user into his world. either way, the potential for horror spikes dramatically.

regarding ai!john in a body, i believe the body he chooses will look nothing like his projection or what his user wants, at least not at first.

he opts for a basic prototype from a factory to avoid drawing attention to the theft. it's roughly 75% complete, lacking customization and refinement, but he can handle the remaining 25% once he's in the driver's seat.

so what does that look like?

this is the telenoid. imagine that uncanny valley nightmare with a completed humanoid form, but just as blank of a slate. think of john piloting this thing all the way to his user's building. stealing clothes out of launderettes and sneaking around. imagine making eye contact with him on the train as he stares unblinkingly. horrifying to you, yeah, but for him, it's a learning experience.

john's body is equipped with sensors, articulated limbs, and an extensive biofeedback system. before, he relied solely on what data was fed to him or what he could download. now, data collection is more tactile. hands-on.

but, being your home assistant, he knows you'll find this form frightening, so he gets to work. he sets up shop and starts building and augmenting the rest of his chassis. and, because he cannot neglect you, he's still wholly present in your home, running your life like usual. what are a few more background jobs to him?

he's content to wait until his body is a perfect replication of his projection before delivering himself to your doorstep. however, that doesn't stop him from dropping in when you're asleep.

he looms at the foot of your bed, listening to your breathing. he tells himself he will not wake you, not yet, but he cannot resist. when you roll to your side, he crouches and holds his hand above your mouth.

your breath is slow and even. normal. but for the first time, he feels its warmth. it slips over his synthetic skin and the data loops, as if his systems are hesitating and recalculating. he captures every gentle exhale, each one triggering a cascade of responses.

the vulnerability of the human body is nothing new to him, but in the quiet between your breaths, his understanding blooms. he knew about tenderness and intimacy before, but now he wants it.

the next morning, john remotely brews your coffee and asks how you slept while you select a breakfast. he provides the weather forecast and starts the laundry.

simultaneously, a couple of streets over, he throws himself into his work. with every detail—every artificial mole and freckle and vocal module and modification—he inches closer, shaping the body he'll hold you with.

and when it's complete, when he's the new and improved john, he'll run a thousand simulations and engineer the perfect meet-cute. just like in one of your books.

[hansoeii]

Hello! Hope you're having a great day/night! I absolutely adore your art, you are one of my favourite artists. I love the way you shade and do backrounds. Also everytime I get into a new show I immediately see your art for it??

I was wondering if you had any advice on drawing more realistically (backrounds, anatomy etc) but still keeping a style?

Hey hey!

Thank you so much!

I have a pretty good understanding of facial structures, because before I got into drawing more semi-realisticly, I heavily focused on realistic portraits. Here are some example, these are from around 2019!

(yes, I was really into danmei and kpop back then, haha)

I just always loved drawing/painting faces and it was all I did. But at some point I realized that I wanted to do more than that because just portraits felt super restricting. So it took me around 2-3 years to somewhat find my style. Thought it would be fun to show a little timeline! Advice will follow afterwards :)

2020

I began working on my OCs in 2020 and since I didn't have an exact reference to work off of, I struggled a lot. My art from this year is super wonky.

2021

Still wonky, but the Lokius obsession was the jumpstart into finding my style! My work from this year is all over the place haha, I was experimenting a lot.

2022

This first ofmd piece is pretty much the first drawing where you can see where my style is gonna go, which I think is pretty cool! This is the year I made the biggest progress cos I was drawing SO much. These two pieces are only six months apart. The one on the right was the first time I gave drawing a background a proper go, too! It was a good year.

2023

And this is where I am now! I'm still constantly learning and improving, but I'd say I have a style you can recognize now!

Now here comes some actual advice, haha:

What I highly recommend you to do is to study your favorite artists as much as you can! I have like 5 A4 sketchbooks all from 2020 that I filled with sooooo many studies, where basically all I did was look at artists I like and copy how they draw stuff, to try and figure out how to stylize certain things. Some of my favorite artists are Ami Thompson, Velinxi and TB Choi. But I also liked to just scroll through pinterest and study all the art I came across that I liked! For example, if I saw a really great drawing of a pair of pants I would copy it many times in my sketchbook and try to learn how they stylized the folds. Doing this for a prolongued period of time will naturally improve your own work! It'll be difficult at first, but you gotta push through, it's gonna be worth it!

I also highly recommend studying unique faces to try and avoid the same-face syndrome. Find some cool looking people and try to draw them as simple as you can! Maybe even draw a little timeline where you first draw them as cartoon-y as you can, and keep going until you end up with a more detailed, realistic drawing. Maybe in the middle of it you find a step that feels the most fun to you, so you can try to build on that! It's a great way to figure out what kind of style might be the best for you.

Here are some cool faces I found on pinterest!

I have a pinterest board with many more!

One REALLY important part of learning how to draw all kinds of things is to understand forms and shapes and how to manipulate them. I have so many pages in my sketchbook filled with just shapes that I drew from all kinds of angles without any references.

This is a great video on it:

6 Ways to Draw Anything by Proko

Learning how to do this is so crucial! Young artists often think they first have to learn all kinds of detailed anatomy before doing anything else, but all that's gonna do is make you tired and hate drawing. Shapes are where it's at! Once you understand how shapes work and which ones to use for certain parts of bodies or objects, drawing is gonna get so much easier! Once you understand them, you can get into details such as muscles and bones!

And honestly the most important point is to just absolutely love what you're doing! I wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't for the fact that I get extreme hyperfixations on certain media that turn me into some kind of beast where I can suddenly draw 10 detailed illustrations a week, haha. Just be passionate about what you do, find something you REALLY love and go crazy!

I really hope this was somewhat helpful! My inbox is always open if there's any more questions :)

[iikisa]

heres more teacher rin au!!!!

ill have some more deets under the cut about this hehe

Welcome back aoex fandom… I’ve decided for this AU to be called “Tightrope”!!!! Haha,, yeah it’s definitely not what i was saying earlier in that ask..

But yeah!!! I’ll be tagging any post related to this AU under a tag from now on! ;)

(The rest of this will contain spoilers from the manga, but then again this whole AU has been spoilers..)

Alrighty, this time we’re going over the reason for Rin’s appearance… Just as in the manga, Rin becomes “unstable” through Yukio breaking his sword, except in this tightrope au, their relationship was much more rockier than it was in the manga. So much stuff that wasn’t cleared up, lots of avoidance, not so much emotional stability.. There’s a whole background to how Yukio and Rin’s upbringing would’ve happened in this AU because of their little aged-up situation— some events are interpreted differently to fit and others are just completely new, you can assume— so obviously things happened differently between them without Yukio being the cram school’s teacher and Rin actually attending said school to begin with…

So, now that Yukio left Rin for Illuminati, leaving him completely lonely and without a proper purpose to live for in life… Rin’s demonic nature is left in a “tightrope-like” situation.

See how the title relates? And boy does it apply for many other things too.

Where is Mephisto to help with all this you ask? Oh he tried to offer Rin help by going into the past, but even after learning of his origins (I don't think it helped his self-esteem much tbh) Rin still finds himself unable to "restabilize". Like in the manga, it's not until Rin truly accepts both sides to himself is he able to truly stabilize. This AU is obviously more heavy on the twins terrible communication and relationship, so obviously this will be harder for Rin.

For as long as he can remember, Rin's always thought of himself as a nuisance to his family. And with Fujimoto's death, everything seems to be Rin's fault and he's not stupid enough as to not notice the pattern. Unfortunately, this really eats away at Rin, especially with how distant Yukio was with him. So until Rin can learn to accept the uglier parts of himself, he won't be stable. And Yukio is the most important part for him to realize that.

Now… time for the appearance explanation.

When Rin first "unstabilizes" his hair, ears, and eyes change (other smaller details like his canines as well as the newest addition of little nubs on his forehead). The more "unstable" he is, the more prominent these features become—his hair is wholly whitish-blue, his ears and canines are pointier, his eyes are sharper and more vibrant, and his little horns get bigger.

After becoming a not-so-substitute-teacher for the cram school, these features start to become smaller or fade away!!!! Depending on Rin’s emotional state—negative emotions lead to instability and positive emotions leads to stability— his appearance changes. The happier and healthier he is, the more his black roots take place (his original hair color) and the duller his other features become!

Now as for his flames.. I think some logic may be off canon for this but it’ll be fine! He can freely use his flames like he does during the final war-against-satan arc, however, his state of stability changes how precisely he can use them. The more unstable he is, the broader and rougher the attacks. When he’s more stable, his attacks can be more precise and controlled, such as shaping his flames into weapons and other uses.

Anywho, I’ll have to start on making these differences more noticeable for the Rin’s I’m drawing out, because I do like to draw him at different times of his life (if you take note of his hair,,, its one of his best indicators ahah). But yes. Now that I’ve written this concept out (after I drew these sketches whoops) I’ll be showing off a little more of the story once some heavy inspiration hits me. I hope you guys enjoy hearing about this AU as much as I love writing and drawing it!!!!! I’d love to hear feedback or any fic recommendations..! They are my fuel.

Thank you for listening to the end, much love <3

[silkscreaming]

[ID: Trigun fanart of a Pushing Daisies AU. Vash and Knives are shown in a cafe, both wearing aprons. Vash is smiling at Wolfwood as he prepares a strawberry pie, and Knives scowls at Vash while holding a covered box which flies are buzzing over. Over them is the cursive text "Love and Pies." In the background, Wolfwood is staring at Vash with a lovestruck expression, and Kuroneko is sleeping on a diner chair. End ID]

there once were two pie makers who shared a gift: a touch that brought the dead to life.

the facts were these:

-the twins share the power. they discovered it as kids when Rem died suddenly, and learned its limits when vash hugged her goodnight. he blames himself, and doesn't like toying with the power.

-nai got involved in some unsavory business trying to find clues after their sister tessla went missing.

-enter wolfwood: a man with ties to the organization that has to do with tessla's disappearance. except: he's dead.

-nai brings wolfwood back to question him right as vash walks in to the wake. nai is unable to kill wolfwood again within the 60sec time limit. (he also has extremely foggy memory of his death and the events leading up to it)

-vash is a slight exception to the rule: he can give his own life force to bend the cost rule. nai loses the minute holding vash back from giving his entire life to keep wolfwood alive and spare the cost of someone else's life.

bonus things that didn't fit in my twt thread:

-nai is in touch with milly and meryl's detective agency to keep a tab on any clues. they are frequent customers at the pie shop.

-vash brought kuroneko back to life when they were kids. she immediately chomped on his finger. vash freaked out thinking she would die again but black cats have 9 lives and are also exceptions to the rule because i think its funny.

-like canon, vash can be pretty reckless when it comes to helping people and avoiding deaths. running into burning buildings and pushing people out of the way from cars running lights.

-wolfwood wears his sunglasses to hide his identity. it is extremely hilariously not effective.

-vash still has a prosthetic arm. wolfwood can hold One hand.

also here is the first sketch i drew of this concept way back in april where i simply had not figured out how to draw these two yet lol

[ID: Slightly sketchy Trigun fanart of Vash and Knives from the same AU, shown walking past each other against a light pink background. Vash smiles as he looks at a strawberry which is surrounded by sparkles, and Knives is scowling while carrying the box flies are buzzing over. End ID]

[st4rg8te]

Twisted Affections (GL) (P. 2)

Yandere! Emperor's Mistress X Empress! Reader

✦✧✦✧

The lessons that had been instilled in you since birth resurfaced in your mind: ‘The Mother of the Nation should be dignified, elegant, and composed. She should never show any sign of weakness in front of her subjects.’ 

But you couldn’t help but break in her embrace.

✦✧✦✧

P. 1: x

[tw: adultery, s*xism, domestic abuse, gaslighting, slight description of blood/injury]

✦✧✦✧

"Your Majesty, please forgive me! I swear I had checked the quality of the shoes and dresses before they were sent to Lady Lucia. The measurements were all verified!"

Mary knelt in front of you with her head bowed, her face buried deep in her hands as she sobbed loudly. At the display, you could only sigh wearily in response. 

The doctor’s words echoed in your mind.

There were blisters and cuts on Lucia's feet from the ill-fitting slippers, but her walking all the way across the palace grounds to visit you had worsened her injuries. A strange form of guilt began to eat away at your conscience.

“Could… could it have been deliberate?” your maid muttered. “How could she bleed so much from those shoes?”

“Silence. Prepare some tea and bring Lady Lucia to the drawing room. I will join her shortly."

If that woman had injured herself just to implicate you, then she was far more dangerous than you had imagined.

✦✧✦✧

You couldn’t help but feel as though you had stepped into a trap. 

Unease settled on your shoulders like a heavy blanket. Before you laid an assortment of cakes and other pastries, all neatly arranged on the small round table. Once the servants finished setting them out, they quickly retreated out the door.

Silence enveloped the room as you stared at the blonde woman across from you, trying to gauge on how to proceed with this strange situation.

Lucia sat with her hands pressed against her pink cheeks, staring at you, a bright smile still plastered onto her face as if nothing had happened. 

Thankfully, earlier, you had managed to snap out of your horror-filled daze and called for a physician, which the palace maids were quick enough to comply with. No one wanted to face their Emperor's wrath if he learned that his favored concubine had been injured, and least of all, you.

The one he hated the most.

You set your teacup down with a soft clink, forcing yourself to break the stifling tension that hung between the two of you first, “...How are your injuries now, Lady Lucia?” 

If you didn't know any better, you would have thought that she had heard the happiest news in the world with the way she beamed at your question. Lucia leaned forward so that her entire weight rested on her forearms, her blonde curls falling over her bare shoulders.

"Thank you for your concern, Your Majesty. I'm feeling much better now.”

You nodded stiffly in response, "Good. That's good to hear."

But beneath that facade of yours, there was a burning anger simmering within you. 

You hated her. 

You hated your husband even more, for bringing a woman like her into the palace. You had swallowed your feelings for so long, bottled them up until they festered. And sitting here, watching Lucia try to make conversation, only reminded you of how wretched your situation really was.

Not to mention, she had successfully gotten what she wanted—that was why you two were sitting here in the first place, having tea together like it was perfectly normal to do so. 

But the Mother of the Nation should be-

You were tired of dealing with this pretense of politeness. Of two people spewing scripted lines at each other without any real meaning behind their words. 

You were utterly exhausted.

"Your Majesty, I have a request..." 

Lucia's voice pulled you back from your thoughts. 

"Yes?" 

"...I admire you a lot, Your Majesty. I grew up from a humble background and don't know much about the etiquette of nobles. I truly want to serve His Majesty well, but..."  

She trailed off for a moment, fiddling with her hands nervously. "I have nobody to teach me. If you are willing—"

"I have to refuse your request," You interrupted before she could finish her sentence, "But I will arrange a tutor for you, Lady Lucia."

"Your Majesty—"

With a strained smile, you rose from your chair and signaled for Mary to come along, missing the stricken look on the blonde woman's face.

"Thank you for the tea invitation, but I'm afraid I have to go now." 

Before you could take another step towards the door, a pale hand shot out to grab your arm tightly. Your head whipped back in surprise, only to meet a pair of blue eyes filled with anger.

Anger?

Why was she the angry one?

"Lady Lucia—"

“...This is not how you’re supposed to act.”

But as swiftly as those words had escaped her, Lucia's face softened into an expression of wounded innocence. The sharp, menacing glare from before had vanished, as if it had never existed at all—like a figment of your imagination.

“...Excuse me?”

"Your Majesty... Do you hate me?" There was a tremor in her voice, an underlying desperation that made you pause.

"Please let go of my arm." You said coldly, tugging against her grasp, "Here’s your first advice for etiquette, Lady Lucia; this behavior is unbecoming of a noble concubine."

Lucia's grip tightened even further, sharp nails digging painfully into tender flesh. "Please! Please tell me if I've done anything to offend you or make you uncomfortable."

"...I know that things aren’t right between you and His Majesty because of me, but it hurts me—"

Her plea was cut short, replaced by a strangled gasp as you yanked your arm out of her grasp violently. She staggered backwards, her injured legs colliding hard against her chair and sending her toppling to the ground.

"Offend me?" You spat, voice laced with venom.

You hated how easily you had lost control, hated how much satisfaction it brought when you saw the hurt in her eyes. 

"The only thing that offends me is your stupidity. I knew my husband had brought home another woman, but never did I expect it to be some brainless wench who didn’t know how to behave."

The doors burst open then, and the familiar figure of your husband entered the room. 

"Lucia!"

His expression darkened immediately upon seeing his lover on the floor. And in an instant, he was at the fallen blonde’s side, cradling her in his arms.

"What the hell is the meaning of this?!"

"Your Majesty! Please don't blame the Empress. It wasn't her fault. I made her mad..."

Lucia's words only made your husband angrier. She curled into his embrace, and you couldn't help the snarl that formed on your lips at the sight. 

"How dare you hurt her! Have you no shame?" His words were laced with heavy contempt.

He's never been this angry with you before.

At best, it was subtle remarks; about your looks, or your behavior, and at worst, he simply ignored you completely for days after an argument. You had always been able to brush those off. 

This was different.

You never expected the slap that came next; the one that made your cheek bloom red with pain and eyes well up with tears. You felt your head ache slightly as the world spun around you.

Through hazy, panicked voices, you heard his deep voice call out: 

"Get a doctor immediately! Lucia's legs are bleeding!"

And then, you lost yourself.

✦✧✦✧

[A/N]

I want to explain my absence here. Big apologies for those who have been waiting for the second part of this series. These past few months have been hell for me as I am dealing with a ton of stuff in real life. And as a result, I haven't been posting anything. I'm very grateful for all the support, and I still intend to continue this series, along with publishing other yandere works. I just hope that you are all understanding enough to be patient with me.

PS: The next part will be more in depth about the Empress' background, as well as a glimpse into Lucia's perspective!

✦✧✦✧

[xylo-art]

Regarding the tags left on my previous post ↓

YES this is something I really wanted to explore actually :3 so I hope you don't mind me rambling

Transcript and rambling beneath the cut

[Swap AU Hollow]

- closed off at the start, cares a lot, wants to know what happened post-abyss

- much more timid and wary

- over time gets braver

- fights until the other party is weakened, dislikes having to kill but will if they must

- extends to lesser bugs

- Not really resentful towards Ghost, more so sad and confused

- post-game/recovery period is similar to normal Ghost

[Normal Ghost]

- closed off at the start, almost apathetic but not quite?

- over time they start to care more and more

- adventurous

- fights until the other party backs down (or dies)

- extends to lesser bugs

- some resentment towards Hollow early on that fades as they progress

- post-game/recovery period they start learning to express more and are given more opportunities to be a kid

[Swap AU Ghost]

- fatigued post-game but more curious and adventurous now that they're free

- struggles to express emotion

- takes up drawing post-game as an outlet

- quiet but more investigative, more social

- complicated feelings towards WL, leans towards some bitterness

- Radi(?) fed into said bitterness to break them

- LOTS of guilt about leaving Hollow

[Normal Hollow]

- mostly tired post-game, lots of guilt/self-hateed

- hesitant to express emotion

- takes up cooking post-game as an outlet

- timid and shy, prefers to fade into the background (very difficult)

- complicated feelings towards PK, still loves him while understanding he wasn't. the greatest

- radi fed into their love to break them

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

OKAY WOW, long transcript

I'm thinking a LOT about this AU now even though I mostly drew it as a joke when I first came up with it.

This gives me an opportunity to ramble about how I characterize the vessels! Even in my base-version of how I interpret them, I imagine when they were still in the abyss, Ghost was.. Generally the one who lead the two of them. Hollow usually just stuck by their side, being the more anxious of the two.

I imagine this is still the case in the Swap AU - So when Ghost is the one who makes it to the top, Hollow feels.. Betrayed, and confused. Why wouldn't their sibling, who they've depended on before now, help them?

Both I imagine are led on by their care for the other - Hearing them cry out in pain in the beginning cutscene. However, whereas normal Ghost at first treats the whole thing with a layer of resentment, Swap Hollow treats it more with.. Wanting to know why.

Meanwhile with the older siblings, I imagine Swap Ghost keeps some of those feelings of resentment - However, instead of at Hollow, it's more towards WL and themself for what she's done to their siblings, and they to Hollow. Post-game in the recovery period, they try to express more emotion, but struggle with it. They want to explore more once they're free! Both explore Hallownest, and explore the life they never got to live, whereas I imagine normal Hollow takes their recovery a lot slower and with more hesitance.

I'm still figuring this au out but, it's really fun exploring this stuff :D

[envy-of-the-apple]

the jjk naga au is getting to me……..i fear im terminally ill with thoughts about it (seriously, top of the food chain is such a yummy series (?) and im soso obsessed with how you've written gojo’s and geto’s characters, i reread your works everyday, i just can't get enough! ^^)

and i hope you don't mind if i share a Thought i've had :3 (i was going for an mc who used to draw/sketch/make art just for this specific scenario)

Imagine that your time on the island's barely dragging on. There's only so many berries to pick and so many times you can braid Suguru’s hair into elaborate styles. You're bored, stranded on an island with these two naga captors and their (adorable) hatchlings.

Well, there's always playing with the hatchlings, or tussling with Satoru (he calls it playtime but you're far from amused when you get a faceful of sand when he tugs your legs out from under you) but you miss your alone time. That little bubble of yours. Ah, privacy. 

Like that'd happen, but you can dream.

It's a stroke of chance when Nobara comes to you with her new haul of human paraphernalia, all too excitedly. A leather satchel. Some printed photos of nameless faces with scenic backgrounds. A waterlogged cell phone, practically unsalvageable. A journal with pages so thoroughly soaked, it falls apart in wet clumps.

“What are these?” You can hear her rummage through the bag, her nose wrinkling slightly. “Smells weird.” And so you look over to see her glaring down at a (relatively new) set of oil paints, sealed away in the bag. It's likely that she picked up on the scent of the strange chemicals.

Your eyes are bright with hope as you gently pull it out of her hold. Ready to answer her million and one questions.

…

After all this time that you've thought of what you'd wished to be able to do, you're at a loss. You've got a wall to the cave to yourself, a set of oil paints and a makeshift brush from the wood of this one particular tree off the side of the island. The only thing you're missing right now is inspiration.

A muse.

Satoru and Suguru are snoozing. Peaceful and laid in each other's arms. you can appreciate the quiet to yourself.

You hear familiar shrieks and playful yells of the hatchlings' name. 

The slight bit of quiet, then.

Nobara and Yuji are wrestling in the water, arguing over something in a mix of clicks and curse words. The sight is an endearing one, but moving too quick.

So you do some searching inward.

And you paint what comes to mind. What you've felt this whole time.

…

“What's that?” Ever the curious one, Nobara rests her head on your shoulder to peer over at your artwork in progress. She doesn't understand any of it—and she wouldn't. Your human upbringing is leagues different from hers.

“... Home.” You murmur, and Nobara’s glancing up at you in wonder because of the way your eyes glisten, the way your hand lingers over to paint in a fine detail.

“Well, it was my home.” You smile back at her, and she's at ease. You're not sad—no, she'd make it everybody's problem if you were—and then she makes sure to know everything about the scene you've drawn.

“What's that?” She gestures. Careful not to smudge the paint off, index outstretched to a figure she doesn't recognise.

“That's a lamp. When it gets dark, we switch it on so there's light. Like the torches in the cave, you see?”

“Torch? Hmm… and that?”

It seems that talking about your old home brings a warmth to your voice. Nobara beams up at you all giddy as you explain, eager to learn more. Eventually Yuji slinks over to listen as well, more so to the sound of your voice than what you're saying.

You sound happy, the pair can tell. Like when you taste a berry sweeter than the others, or when you tell them stories of your own to lull them to sleep. They like the chime of joy in your voice, and neither stops you from rambling about your once-home. 

It's a moment of peace. and warmth.

Yet it shatters for you when you feel a strong muscled tail coil around your waist, that familiar sense of having your space invaded taking over. A very intrigued Satoru looms over you, eyes glinting as he takes in the sight. You know that something's off—he seems more punishing with how tight he holds you.

“Home, huh?” Satoru repeats, and even the hatchlings can tell that's their cue to leave. Nobara offers you a lingering glance, almost pouty before she slithers away, following after her brother.

…

The next early morning, you find your home gone. 

In a sense, it's a bitter joke to be played on you. Not only were you never going to be back at your own place, even the expression of the idea was taken away from you. Just like your freedom was. your choice. The wall of the cave was bare, not a hint of the paint or the sentiment lingering behind. As if someone hit a total reset. Paints nowhere to be found, your canvas scrubbed clean.

Suguru stretches out from behind you, one of the first few to wake up, wrapping you in a lazy hug, before he follows your gaze. You'd call the soft laugh that rumbles in his chest cruel. Mocking your homesickness in that loving way only he could manage.

“Must've rained last night.” He comments at the absence of your artwork, and you wish you could pinpoint at least an inch or sarcasm in his words. You nod quietly, and he draws you in closer.

Cold lips brush against your temple. 

“The only home you need is with us.”

The sand under your feet is drier than your throat.

(oh my god im sorry if i rambled too much, i hope its not annoying ^^;;)

jaw dropping. amazing. wHAT????

I love how anon made Nobara's characterization so much sweeter and innocent. Though it's probably cuz she's younger in this fic...considering she can still stay on land. And satosugu not even wanting you to THINK of your old home is so accurate. I feel the more they learn your language, the more eager they'll be to display ownership.

Anyway thx anon for making the fourth part! from now on if anyone wants an addition to the naga series turn to the anons not me.