#pen tol drawing

[creamecream]

A peck.

[micahulrichdraws]

Hi Mic, hope you are doing well! What are your thouths on moving from paper to tablet, i just feel like i want to try something new but i worry that it will take me ages to learn wail everyone my age is already master of the tablet illustration (i just never had the money to buy a tablet) and now i feel tiny bit like a looser late 20s pretty close to 30 to start doing my work on tablet i feel like people will see me as a lame grandpa. Idk i just have seen that after the age of 27 people have been supper rude and judji when it comes to my life choices like they do the - arent you too old to want to live off art and that makes me feel like a mummy 🙈 i dont think i am ThAT old or idk anymore... Just seenpeople on tiktok make fun of 30 year olds and then going on instagram and seen full time illustrators with perfect tablet skill at the ripe age of 21 i feel like a looser, my family has never emotionaly supported me about my passion for art and that took a tol on me emotionally i am not using it as an excuse just i do think some people get faster and more far in life just with thanks to getting some love and affection from there tribe and when you dont have that i feel things feel wayy heavier.... Sorry for the yaping, stay awesome and have a great rest of the year, sorry for the long post i just feel less and less happy wail been on instagram and more and more calm when i am away from it

No one actually cares what age you are when you make art. People who are going to be asses will always be asses. People suck, life is short, be cringe, none of this really matters all that much, just enjoy it. Also Instagram is going to feed you content based on what you click on - so if you click on stuff that makes fun of artists, it'll feed you that crap. Just stay off the thing.

Also, for jumping from paper to tablet is easy. If you can draw or paint on traditional media, you're already leagues ahead of most digital artists. Just pick up a cheap one off eBay, they're all the same outside of branding. Start in black and white just like graphite, then introduce colors. However, I'd suggest talking to someone who actually does digital art, all my stuff is traditional pen and ink on paper. Haven't touched a tablet since 2015ish, and only did that to show how much of the painting process is automated by Photoshop and a tablet. Not having to mix your own paints, blend your own paints on canvas, stretch a canvas, worry about overworking a spot, adjust the color balance along with contrast on the spot, learn about varnishes, etc., means that the computer and tablet automate 95% of the process for you - it just comes down to your technical ability to draw and patience to learn it.

Hope that helps!

[art-h]

The Formulation of Technique

For this module I was having a complete dearth of ideas for how to decide on a technique. I spoke to Duncan for advice and we came up with doing small drawings of the same object in different mediums and seeing what fits to shake off my mental block. Like the old cliche of trying everything and seeing what sticks. To follow a lose thread from the Knolling exercise I chose my enamel travel mug as the object I would draw.

Before starting the degree course I was already quite versed in how to use charcoal so as a comfort exercise I made the above sketch. It definitely helped ease me into the exercise to get the creative juices flowing. I felt strongly though by its completion that I should try to use a different medium to push myself away from comfort zones.

Having used oil pastels in my Taxonomy of Drawing pieces of Men an Tol and Boscawen-un recently, I reached for them next. I had not used them much before hand so making marks with them definitely eased me out of my comfort. I enjoy using them and definitely want to master them in time, possibly starting during this module. I think using charcoal alongside as a shading method definitely helps the colours pop.

Before starting university I had never used dip pens for drawing. I purchased a small set of inks and different heads for varying effects. I was incredibly surprised by the outcome! It was a pleasure to use hatching for shading and using multiple lines for texture and depth. 

From this I chose to go multi-modal for this project as I feel strongly that this year is very much an exploratory adventure and to try to focus on any one thing when I haven’t tried everything would be difficult to accomplish without distraction.

[lethalgadgets]

How to Use a pen tool

This is ULTIMATE Guide to Pen Tool. Here Learn how to use the Pen Tool in Photoshop CS6, ask me right from WHAT IS THE PEN TOOL? to create some advanced shapes and selections.

In this video, you will take you through the process of understanding and using the tool step by step covering all the necessary fundamental concepts like Anchor Points, Paths, Shapes, Tools from the Pen Tool Family and its applications etc.

You will start by understanding the basic function of the pen tool and how it works on the concept of anchor points. Then you will dig deeper into using the pen tool where you will explore handles and degrees and how to use them to create complex shapes and paths. After a little practice. You will also learn few of the applications for the pen tool and explore an amazing way to level up our skills using a game based on the tool. Hope this video helps you! It is free, and will always be.

[randomthunk]

It was pointed out to me by myself and someone verifying my observation that I haven’t drawn Team Nature in like, ages. Like months. Like, it's been so long guys. So long. Might as well fix that.

[relix-draws]

Meet Wraith

Here's another glitchy boi

He's a medical science inclined boi who chills in the void collecting lost souls and shards he finds and keeps them as safe as he can.

[everyothermouse]

Infodump abt the neighborhood which is just me telling the story of the the section with Tol’s birth parents :) credit to jay for writing out a good portion of this (and also to myself, obviously)

tw: child abuse, self harm, bruises, suicidal thoughts, kinda kidnapping but more just running away.

Tol is an 11 year old in an abusive family who’s parents have gone through a host of foster kids (most older than tol), all of whom left after being neglected by Tol’s parents and either ignored aggressively by Tol, or actively bullied by him. Mostly he is just scared and angered by the other kids, he already hates his home as it is so having others put into it who he feels will also hurt and neglect him is not welcome by him. Even kindness to him is hated- to him, things like food and school and lack of pain are things he doesn’t deserve and has to work for, because that’s what his parents have taught him, so when people actively are kind to him he sees it as a trick, they want something from him, they want to hurt him. Because of this, he hides and lashes out at anyone who comes near him.

The only exception is his mirror on the other side of the fence- lune, another young boy in a rough situation. Lune lives in the forest and like tol is frequently injured, missing school, and lacking in food. When Tol would be locked outside, he’d talk to the fence, and the fence would talk back- it was him, the free version of him, a twin granted to him by the woods, that’s what he saw. When Tol was allowed inside, he would bring Lune bread from dinner and talk highly of his moms cooking and hair and job, while when Tol was locked out, Lune would bring him stories and food from the dumpsters in the neighborhoods near by. Soon they started exchanging more than just objects- they started sharing secrets. From across the fence Tol would wiggle his thin arm through the small hole dug by the rabbit who ate the dying grass from their yard, and tell Lune how he got those purple spots that Lune had never seen before. Lune would come at night and whisper over the crickets that he used to have a house back when he couldn’t remember, and none of the teachers were allowed to know he was alone now, because his friend told him they’d take him away. He told of the house in the woods that burned down into a pile of spare wood that Lune would take with him to a cave and build himself hiding places. As they talked, they each began to dream. Lune dreamt of being in that house, where he would be fed and no one could ever take him away because Tol and him would pretend everything in the house was nice when the men came the way Tol’s mom taught Tol. And Tol began to dream of the woods, of hiding away in that little cave with lune, roasting stolen food on forgotten pieces of a home and waiting until his parents thought he was dead, and he could finally be free. Or even better, he’d sneak away to that big scary tree Lune talked about, and he’d climb and climb until he could see the sky, and then he’d fall, he’d fall and his parents would never have him again.

While Tol began to dream of change for the first time in his life, Jay held tight onto his dreams, the only thing he had ever held onto, the only thing he had always had. Jay was a kid in the foster system, and he had been for a very long time- at this point, the label “kid” was barely applicable, having had recently turned 16 years old. He didn’t know what he had done wrong- he felt like he had always been a great kid, but when he was six, he was given away by the only parent who had ever loved him, (or at least, who he thought had loved him), and was never properly picked up by an adult again. With each new house he told himself, this is the one, these ones are going to love me. Tol’s house was no different. Jay had learned with every house what was and wasn’t needed, what was and wasn’t wanted- lockpicking, yes, good for safety of course; acting, no, apparently annoying, especially when it involves him yelling as a different person than himself for an entire week including in the middle of the night (he chooses to believe maybe there will be a family that sees the importance of getting into character for shows, but he has definitely learned the chances aren’t great); getting into trouble at school and coming home late very debatable, incredibly fun and is the only way he knows how to make friends in his new districts, but not exactly loved by parents- fair enough, he can take constructive criticism, though he doesn’t have to listen to it.

When he arrived he had high hopes- a little brother, awesome, a dad with an accent, very cultural, and a stay at home mom, all in a just lovely large house full of lovely friends (spiders, mice, even a rabbit in the walls sometimes)? I mean, other than the mothers occasional refusal to let them eat for behavior, and the dad attempting to attack him (what a goof), and the little man next door to his bedroom only communicating with him through glares, it was pretty alright! He just knew he would get them all to improve by warming them up to him, he was quite the charming loud fellow after all!

Tol did not like him. In fact, Tol would rather he be dead. Once Jay showed up, Tol was back to being pulled aside and having his head bang against a wall as punishment instead of just getting locked outside in the cold where he could talk to his friend. Once Jay showed up, he didn’t get yelled at to do his homework, Jay did. Jay got yelled at over the phone, Jay got yelled at when he got home late every day, Jay got yelled at when he paced around his room at night, and Tol might as well have been invisible- and if there was one thing worse than being living with Tol’s parents to Tol, it was being ignored by Tol’s parents. It drove him absolutely crazy. So he decided to pretend Jay wasn’t there and make it clear to his parents that he was, he was very there. He started getting in trouble more, slamming every door, acting up at school constantly, digging more holes in the walls, talking back. The family did not react well to this. Jay did not react well to their reaction.

Jay was feeling good about the situation as a whole before Tol started acting off- he had made a great friend at the theater of his neighbor school, which allowed participants from his school, which lacked their own. He got in trouble sure, but most of the time it was for fair reasons- and unlike some other homes he had been at, all he got was yelling and a smaller serving of food- no starving, no hitting, no being locked in his room for a week (that was the worse one- there were so many kids in that house and the parents knew how much he loved to be with them!) This of course, was not how things would stay for very long, but Jay didn’t know the cycle of this household, he only saw a somewhat safe house with another kid to be unlocked like a puzzle box. But when he started to catch on to the way Tol was being treated, he did not feel so good about the situation anymore. He wasn’t really used to this, if anything the birth kid usually got favoritism, he was used to that, he could deal with that. But the only other kid of the house being treated like trash when he was the rejected teenager who was supposed to be earning love? That was not normal, and that was not going to work. So Jay found the opportunity to re-pick up a hobby he loved that most of his families didn’t, a fun venture in acting called lying. Every time Tol did something bad, it became a fun game to see how Jay could make it his fault, to make him and Tol one in the same in badness- the holes in the wall? Jay had let the rabbit in again, Tol was just trying to cover for the rabbit because he loved it so much, Jay was really the one at fault here. Tol’s bad behavior at school? Well, while Tol didn’t like to show it, Tol had taken a liking to Jay and was just copying him, it was Jay’s own fault, really! Nothing was Tol’s fault when Jay was around, or at the very least, you couldn’t prove it. Either one of them could lie, and when they’re both trouble kids trying to take the blame, how can you know?

Tol was… confused by this. He liked that the whole deal had all 3 of his housemates talking and debating about him, but he didn’t really understand what Jay was doing. Jay already got a lot of attention, and there was nothing wrong with him; Tol felt he deserved to be hit already, he was a bad kid, of course he was going to get in trouble, but Jay wasn’t inherently bad or deserving to be hit, so why would he try to get himself in trouble? It didn’t make any fucking sense. He watched Jay like a hawk, he hated him, but now he was also confused and intrigued by him. About a month and a half after Jay’s arrival, he was finally put out in the yard again one night where jay and the parents had been yelling at each other and Jay had been told to go to his room very early and stay there. And soon, Tol was back to being there every Saturday.

Tol continued his slow work with his weak arms of digging a hole under the tough dirt and rock under the fence, he told Lune about the whole thing, and Lune, a genius among men, made a brilliant suggestion. Perhaps, the reason Jay was trying to take Tol’s blame was because he liked Tol, perhaps it was because just like Tol and Lune, they were the same, so Jay just wanted Tol to not be hurt. This was the most insane, mind blowing idea Tol had ever heard. One of the random kids who came to his house to steal his parents attention and their food and their space wasn’t just around Tol to use him and his things, he…. Liked him? Wanted him to be safe. Tol didn’t sleep that night. He stared at the sky and spun the idea around while Lune snored behind him. He had told Lune that his idea was so incredibly stupid. But as he stared up at his broken house, he tried his best in his small mind to stretch that small piece Lune had shown him, the part that still lived, the part that dreamed, and to imagine for a moment what it would be like to be liked by a real life brother. He imagined that the strange man in his house saw this broken, disgusting child and decided they were the same, and that because they were the same and Jay deserved to be treated like a person, that Tol deserved to be treated like a person too. He thought of Lune, and how if his mum ever tried to kill Lune like he figured she would (after all, her son doesn’t deserve a friend, and the world shouldn’t have to suffer a second boy just as bad as the one), he would take it instead. And suddenly, in a tired mush of thoughts of television, school, and Lune, something in his brain finally fell into place. Jay wasn’t a stranger. Jay was his brother.

The next night was the first night of Jays life, though he didn’t know it yet. He didn’t know it when he left theater with a fading smile on his face, he didn’t know it as he bickered and snarked at his “mother” until she stood up and threw his dinner plate onto the floor, and he didn’t know as he felt a small hand touch his back as he angrily practiced his guitar into the wall. He turned around to see his little brother, who’s angry eyes for once seemed to hide something else. It wasn’t the confusion that occasionally glazed them before being hidden away and covered with annoyance again when Jay tried to help him, it was something new. Jay smiled at him like Jay always did when Tol and him actually interacted, that smile like he had just made an inside joke only Tol understood, a smile like a wink, a smile like seeing a friend who’s been missing for a while. Tol flinched like it was a sneer, to him it was, but for once, he spoke. He asked Jay if they were brothers. Jay smiled and said of course. Tol stared at him, and Tol left. Strange kid, Jay thought. Tol sat on his bed and cried. A truce. Finally, finally a truce, finally someone at the house who would protect him, who would see him- He had told himself to be cautious and to not believe a thing Jay said, but Jay and Lune had done it- they had spread the dreaming to him, and the dreaming overtook him. His brain exploded with thoughts of kindness and family and brothers and safety, his empty locked heart of a life unloved and cold in one moment colored over completely by dreams. And even if his brain said he shouldn’t have believed a word Jay said, it was far too late for his heart. He had been lost to hope, and once that locked shell around his heart cracked, there was nothing left to do but cry because he was finally seen, and he could finally see.

From that day on, Jay noticed Tol was… very different. He didn’t glare at him anymore, not for much longer. Tol stopped slamming doors, stopped making trouble. When he was stuck inside and the parents weren’t looking, he’d sneak into Jay’s room and sit silently. Jay would talk to him, and he’d mumble back, funny responses, but he wouldn’t converse, wouldn’t talk about anything in his life, he mostly just tried to sit there and watch Jay. He sat silently at dinner. He was very silent. Jay didn’t see what Tol saw, Jay saw a rebellious, fun child become reserved and unable to even be angry. Jay had seen it before, and what he saw was heartbreaking, because to him, Tol looked just like every other child broken by their home, just trying to survive, just hoping not to get hurt again. Hiding behind the only person he had to hide behind. That’s when Jay officially decided that Tol wasnt going to get hurt again. The debating was fun, but not if it wasn’t helping Tol. He wasn’t going to take all the blame and then get kicked out so Tol could go back to hurting alone again, no, he was going to take all of Tol’s blame, all of Tol’s punishment, and then he was going to take Tol too. He had tried being a good kid, but no parent ever loved him, wanted to stay with him, not enough. But Tol did; in late nights Tol begged him quietly to stop arguing, that they’d take him away like they did with all the other kids. Told him to just pretend to be good like he did, take all his anger out on the ground and pretend your not mad. Tol wanted him there, and it hurt. So many kids had loved Jay like a brother, but all of them were gone from him now, all because they were all too focused on listening to some parents instead of realizing that the family they were looking for was each other. Tol didn’t care about his parents. He didn’t give a shit about any parents, and Jay realized that he didn’t have to worry about the parents either, he only had to worry about tol.

Jay and Tol stopped being two entities in one house, but rather a pair- a seperate pair, but each on their own knew the other was the other piece of the puzzle, even if they didn’t exactly understand what the other thought the answer the other was providing was.

Tol snuck under the fence each Saturday night and ran the woods with Lune- the world was open and beautiful and so was Tol’s mind. Out there, there wasn’t emptiness, each stick and rock was a new toy that could build and throw and play. The woods wasn’t just the woods. It was half eaten cupcakes behind a shop that took all night to walk to it felt like, Lunes favorite part of the week. It was the tiny cold cave with a single blanket on the floor that Tol layer his head on and Lune layer his body on. It was a campfire that blew smoke and thoughts into his face, making Lune laugh and Tol stare at and grin because he was finally at home.

Jay stayed later at theater every day, but he wasn’t at theater. He was right down the street, watching from his picnic table as people came and went from therapy like he did every day. Except he wasn’t watching the patients like he used to, he was watching the employees, well, employee. Someone had started to sit across from him for dinner. A small man who’s face crinkled when he smiled and who laughed and said it wasn’t hard to notice that his office was being stalked by a teenager from the nearby school. He called himself Pop, and so, so did Jay. Pop brought his meals in sets bigger than he can eat, while Jay smiled and showed off his sketches and Tol’s and “stole” pieces from Pop’s plate while he was distracted. Soon enough, he started bringing his guitar too- running to the office every morning before school to play with his case open on the ground for tips, smiling at Pop as he passed as Pop rolled his eyes and smiled before dropping him a dollar or twenty.

Pop thought the kid was a bit stupid- he didn’t seem to know a thing about stranger danger, though Pop supposed he must not either to just sit down and talk to the man sitting and staring outside his office every day. But Pops life was lonely. Every day he talked to people he knew but would never know, in therapy in the morning, in streams in the night. His life was rewarding, or well, it really should have been, that’s what he thought. But when this kid sat down and talked to him after work every night it felt… nice. Like having a family almost, having dinner with a kid, even if it was just on a shitty table outdoors with usually equally shitty take out food. It wasn’t exactly life changing, only about as life changing as his neighbors occasional visits or the hard work he did every day, but it was nice. Any interaction was a nice break from depression for Pop, it was all he could really ask for, so he took it.

As Jay talked more about his life, Pop couldn’t help but get… worried, to say the least. Worried for the kids safety. But he couldn’t really help- the kid wouldn’t tell him who his family was, hell, he wouldn’t tell his last name, afraid Pop would go telling on him for all the silly harmless little mischiefs from his day he told Pop all about. The best Pop could really do was offer his number, address, and a couple other numbers for help, to make sure the kid was safe. He said he was, but the signs stood out to Pop like a sore thumb, and even if he was just being paranoid because he cared, it was always better to be safe.

To Jay, life was looking up. To Tol, it… wasn’t. 4 months into living together, the veil finally fell. Tol had given up, he let Jay protect him, but Jay didn’t give up on being a problem like Tol wanted, and neither did his parents. And Mom grabbed Jays head, and slammed it into the wall. And she did it again, and again, and again, and sent him back to his room. Tol banged on his wall facing Jay. Jay came out the next morning, and came back that night smiling like nothing happened, like he wasn’t bruised and hurting. It didn’t stop, because picking who to punish wasn’t a problem anymore. Tol would scream and beg while being held back by his dad every time she laid a hand on Jay, and she damn well did. Jay kept smiling and when his door wasn’t locked by the parents he hugged Tol and played his guitar and said everything would be ok. He would grin (at least as big as he could manage around his hurting jaw) and talk about how cool he looked with a black eye or what fun stories he’d tell the kids at school about how he got into an awesome fight. Tol hated it, he hated it, he didn’t want to let Jay take any of the pain for him anymore but it was too late for that now, and while Jay held back from crying every day until after Tol was gone because this was what was best for the kid, Tol just wished they would go back to saying they’d bury him in the garden so he wouldn’t have to see Jay hurt anymore.

The months got harder. Jay stopped answering when Pop asked him what happened, said that he just wanted a break from thinking about all the “fights” when he was with Pop and wouldn’t keep coming if Pop kept bothering him about it. Pop didn’t try to hide that he was buying Jay dinner anymore. He helped him fix up his guitar too. He was going to help this damn kid because that’s what he fucking did, helped people. Jay said he didn’t need help. He was lying, but that was a game he was good at, one that always had an end goal, and his end goal was to get out of there, not to have the cops called on his foster parents and have Tol end up doing something or having something happen to him by the hands of the parents before help could come, or as help came. He didn’t trust a single person in that damn family to keep the kid safe, the only exception was probably that damn imaginary friend from the backyard Tol used as an excuse to get Jay to bring him extra food (said he needed to give it to him. Jay wishes he’d just ask for what he wants, but it’s better than him just keeping quiet about his needs.)

Sleep Awake, Mother Mother https://youtu.be/1FBvYhPhBhQ

It was too long before Jay decided to leave. He couldn't take living in that wretched house for another night. He started sticking things in the bush under his bedroom, giving other things to pastel or pop as gifts, and anything that needed to he kept but not carried went to tol- well, lune, but Jay had seen from the glass door in the back Tol sneaking under the fence with things for Lune and coming back empty headed, Jay didn't know where Tol was hiding his shit, but Tol did and that was all that really mattered. They were better off coming back to the forest for things left behind than back to the house. If he made it back, at least.

Jay had already made up his mind where he was going. Any teacher or friends parents wasn't an option, they had access to his parents and his parents them. He wasn't close enough with them to trust them. He was going to pops, not forever, but for as long as he could get away with, maybe a couple nights, maybe a week. All he had to do was get there, make sure the situation was safe, and if it was, go back for Tol and then talk to Pop about dealing with the parents. There were probably smarter options, options more made for his situation; but the way he saw it, fostering was supposed to be what was best for his situation for a kid and it hadn't worked because he didn't know the people, couldn't trust them. He already knew Pop, and even if that could all go south the second he got closer, he could take that risk. So he made his leave.

These last ones r just transcripted from jay ghost regressed rambling at me just with the ups removed, excuse the downgrade in grammar lol

'so tol notices that Jay is, he's not there the next day, he's not there all day either, so at night he's in bed and he's sleepy he's a sleepy little guy in bed, and jay comes into his room- he feels a hand on his mouth and it wakes him up and jay tells him tol- tol you need to grab your favorite clothing from your dresser or your basket, we're going now. And little tol is wondering, what? But he likes jay so so he gets his clothes and jay takes him away through the window, and tol feels like he is being kidnapped but he does not like his parents so he just comes with jay anyways, and jay gets his guitar and his backpack full of stuff from the bush and they walk all the way back to the apartment complex and they take the elevator up to Pops place and Pop opens the door at the middle of the night cus someone knocked and now there are two kids there and he's like woah! There are 2 of them! Jay didnt even tell me he went to get him! So he goes and he says hi to Tol and Jay says stop that and tells Tol to go set up and Jay says OK now that tol is here I can tell you aaaall the things so he does :) and pop is like oh my goodness that so awful D:' (transcriber note: he said D colon outloud)

'and then he's he decides to help him and jay jay would be like oh well be fine but he isn't because he likes help help is good and so Pop he gets the big people and they work out what's going on and tol is very grumpy because he has a new person now who's he's never even met and is being had live with and he can't see lune cus lune is back home and Pop doesn't let him hit himself and snap his rubber band on him real hard and it makes him soo mad!! He's oh um um! Tom wrote about him hold on I can show you but basically tol said he thought Pop was weird and creepy and he didn't get why they kept feeding him every day and trying to help even tho he didn't know him and and he just didn't like him very much :)'

Also wow drawing. This js from like November last year lol, most of my neighborhood writing/drawing on my blog is kinda old (spoilered for self harm/bruises/abuse. And tol being an asshole /hj)

'so then then tol starts getting used to him cus jay tries really hard to get him used to him and pop decides he's the foster boy now and he's taking care of them for the moment since he's doing good financially and he's good, and he wants to keep the kids safe and the company is nice and it's nice but tol has to stay out of school for a little bit for safety reasons and they have to move him to a new district and stuff, and pop thinks hey you know what I'm not happy here and the kids don't have a lot of space here or other kids and I've been saving money for a while cus I've been wanting a better life than this and just been being complacent so maybe I should try and go for a full adoption and move us to a real neighborhood with other kids than Nadia (oh um Nadia is the kid of their neighbor Mage, pop has neighbors on both sides the others are Warden and Brite who run a bakery a ways a way) and so he brings it up and jay is like yayay yay yeah yippee!! And tol is like whatever… whatever… cus tol is like that he's silly he's sad so it takes a bit they do have to live in the apartment for a lil bit but then they get to the new place and it's just perfect it's in the school district Pastel is in (by jays request) and it's in walking distance of his neighbors (ex neighbors now) bakery so he can see them during the day and so maybe mage will have a good excuse to drive Nadia down here and they can still talk cus really pops neighbors are their only friends because he is lonely :)'

And also one last bit which was just stuck in the middle of some other rambling

Jay was raised in a Mexican household up to 6, though hes only half Mexican :) he usually redyes his hair at pastels house, that's the friend I talked about him meeting at theater. Tols parents were pissed when he came back with it redyes lol, they cut off the dyed part when he first moved in but didn't bother the next time, they were just pissed.

Tols hair is also a situation, he has alopecia areata brought on by very intense stress. That just means he has bald spots on his head, he actually went practically bald before he left the house (that's why he wears a wig, his parents did not like looking at his head cus they thought it was ugly and gross) but started growing back his hair once he settled into the new house with Jay and Pop. He still very much has bald spots but he does have hair. It's kinda thin and he usually wears a hat at home and his wig at school, but the hair is very swag :D it's a greyish blonde I believe.

Hope you enjoyed if u read o/

[purplepacificoctopus]

How to open a door - a chaotic dumbass technique

Inktober 2020

Day 9 - throw

Running behind, hopefully will catch up soon

[heckin-music-dork]

I’m so stoked to see Little Shop of Horrors tonight!!

[furvanoctua]

Just wanted a cute drawing of the tol Tzippi and smol Veta (relatively speaking lol).

Left image is a redraw of the right, which is a sketch I began at work, but I fucked up Veta and couldn't fix it 'cause ballpoint pen :V Tzippi came out really good in the original though, and I'm not sure if I like the clean one just as much, though I still like it

[squirrelwrangler]

The Fandoms of Princess Findis  (2)

Part Two, Part One

The monster of a fic started back in 2017, celebrating my self-indulgent love of creating crossover fusions, in-jokes, and worldbuilding. Princess Findis is an author, and her latest creation is Voltron. (This chapter has Númenorean Batman)

...

Eyes bright with excitement, Heledir accepted the outstretched pen. “What ideas have you had so far, Princess Findis?” 

Findis offered one of her small genuine smiles. “I missed having your assistance. Mother and Nerdanel play audience for me when they can, but I do not feel comfortable sharing my ideas with them when the stories are naught but wet clay unshaped and unfired.” Taking a deep breath as if to steady herself for a strenuous physical task, Findis began to outline her thoughts. “A story for young people to be sold in Valmar, Tirion, Alqualondë, and beyond. To be serialized in multiple volumes and fully illustrated. Something with a sweet ending, for I cannot abide to write a tragedy, and had anyone a desire for unhappy endings, there is yet another edition out of Narn i Chîn Húrin. A group of companions fighting against evil forces off in some imaginary place- you would think our appetite for that had waned, but public taste is what it is. Surely you’ve also noticed how popular those imaginary tales of the hero with the bat-fell are both across the sea and here in Valinor? Not that I don’t also greatly enjoy those stories and the new block-prints created using the original author’s stories and chalk drawings from Balar as inspiration.”

Quenta Quildarecáno, as the name was translated for the audience in Valinor, began as entertainment for mortal refugee children during the final decades of the First Age. Leber, an apprentice of Dírhavel, based the imaginary dark city as a combination of the magnificent hidden metropolises of Menegroth and Gondolin but also the world that his small audience knew, of an island isolated from hope and a world overrun by evil, and the orphan hero trying, perhaps futilely, to save it. In Leber’s stories the hero always defeated the dastardly but comedically incompetent villains. The tales were not as light-hearted as the ones with the talking cat and disguised scullion, but the seriousness of threats and the tormented psyche of the bat-fell disguised hero fluctuated over the course of the war. The Númenorean settlers carried their childhood fantastical tale with them to their new home and expanded on Leber’s original ad hoc adventures, adding new colorful villains and allies. Like many mortal imports, the elves of Valinor adored the Bat-man, and there were frequent dispatches to pick up the new releases from the port of Andúnië. 

 Heledir shrugged. “Aglar’s siblings are fans. Craban sends copies in his letters to his sister, and Amanië collects the porcelain figurines. I find the tales amusing, though the use of a magical bat cloak for a hero ...it is difficult for me to imagine, for I was dead before Princess Lúthien used the skin of dread Thuringwethil or took the bats under her protection in Tol Galen. In my memories the bats are still the spies of Morgoth.”

“A point of those stories is how the hero co-opts those symbols of darkness to turn those weapons against evil. Colindiel has written a dissertation of the subject. Anyways,” Findis said airily, “that’s why his bright squires are more popular. There’s a poll in a letter exchange group. My favorite is the female thief with the cat theme.” Heledir almost interrupted her with surprise that the hero with the bat-fell had more than one squire, unsettled by how out-of-touch he was with the plot developments of a series that he did not read the monthly updates from Númenor, but Findis continued her impromptu lecture. “Without the thief-robin, the stories would not have been remembered after the war. And Leber’s stories are an inspiration for the manner of tale I have been commissioned to write. Brightly costumed fighters coming together to have adventures and fight evil forces, prevailing with great triumph and only a little heartache. Stories that make exciting cartoon prints. Centering on mortals - or at least protagonists that seem mortal. For that I shall need your input most of all. The ‘valiant knights with companion steeds’ is still a popular trend, especially with riders sharing with their steeds at least some form of an ósanwë bond. But I admit that I have grown tired of writing about white horses.”

“Wait,” Heledir interrupted, “those are yours?”

“Under a new false name. They are quick to churn out, and lucrative for some ‘pin money’, I believe the term is. Speaking of which, I gave that series to your friend Tacholdir to continue. He wishes to try his hand at editing fiction and has students who might excel if given the opportunity. I am bereft of fresh ideas for that series.” Findis cleared her throat, having rushed her explanation in a swift embarrassment of words.

“For this new work I need another animal, or something besides an animal to be ridden,” Findis continued. “I was thinking of a ship, perhaps, but animate, as if the swan-prows could have actually spoken. Living ships.”

“And why not?” Heledir asked, picking up on the undercurrent of her words, that the idea displeased her and that she was hoping that he could provide a suitable alternative.

“I know little of sailing,” Findis admitted, “and unlike my brother have little interest in spending a summer in Alqualondë collecting the necessary research while reeking of oysters and seaweed.”

“So no to talking ships.”

Findis hesitated. “I did have a notion. About Vingilótë, and the vessels of stone and metal and materials impossible for aught but the Ainur to shape in which were built to bear aloft the last fruits of Laurelin and Telperion. You would have enjoyed the chaos and excitement involved in their drafting and launch into the upper airs, had you been with us.”

Heledir squashed the impulse to wince at her words. “Aye, I missed that, for I followed Prince Finrod and his uncle.” His tone was more defensive than he wished, and only years of discipline steeled his body posture to face her open and unguarded.

“It was your own choice, and theirs,” Findis snapped, then smoothed her facial expression into one of detachment. “It is my turn for apologies, Heledir. I promised myself to let that old resentment rest. For too many centuries I had nursed these dark feelings, and you are not the intended target of all my ire.”

“Only a token portion,” Heledir teased.

“I will greet my brother with more than just bitterness to give when he is restored to life,” Findis said. “Though to address him as Fingolfin...it is a most inelegant name; you must concur with me, Heledir. You were fortunate that the Sindarin version of your name retained a similar pleasant mouth-sound.”

The re-embodied veteran of Beleriand bowed his head in acknowledgement and forgiveness, then leaned forward. “Back to this story,” he said eagerly, “Flying vessels, crafted of some rare and especially strong metal in the shape of an animal and with some form of sentience - a holy source of power perhaps, or just infused with some of their creator’s will, as with the swords Anguirel and Anglachel?”

“Ah yes!” Findis exclaimed, “The ore that fell from the upper airs like a falling star. Thematically it is perfect, for that iron ore was stronger than any sword forged from the substances of Arda, and since it came from Ilmen, or even the outer reaches of Vaiya that envelop everything from the Void, the readers shall not question the premise of the vessels flying through the airs and upper atmosphere. Islands that float up in the sea of stars, and there the story can escape the mundane for new lands of absurdities. There shall our heroes traverse in metal ships that are not shaped like ships. Why shouldn’t star-ore fly? For simplicity’s sake, though, the star-ore should contain the holy sentience. Nerdanel often speaks of how she can feel a sculpture inside the rock she carves, and that she is freeing and assisting the fëa to manifest the refined form of its hröa. So let it be that in this universe, their Ainur could not enter Eä without difficulty, that they had to enter with souls tied to physical material, as inert ore, and needed the hands of mortals to give them a body that can move and fight against evil. And without a pilot they cannot move, as Anar and Ithil need Arien and Tilion. When the characters pilot the vessels they have a weak connection to the mind of the holy one. Full conversations would be too easy and complicated.” Of the popular genre focused on the ósanwë-connected valiant steed and elven companion, that such tales devolved into little more than the bonded pair conversing back and forth and all other character interactions rendered secondary and lacking was a pitfall that Findis was keen to avoid and had warned Tachildor to beware.

Heledir twirled the pen in his fingers. “If there is to be more than one vessel-spirit, does that require multiple falling ores? Or did they enter the world as one mass? And was it then when they were divided into bullion that the fëar separated?”

“One ore, I think. As for the fëar, I do not know. One as many, one into many. As even the Valar began as thoughts of the One, the distinction is minor, and I write this as entertainment for children, not philosophy and contemplation on the full meaning of the Song. Anyways, this is not our Eä.” Findis waved a hand, banishing the invisible conundrum.

“So we have our holy spirit ships - built in the forms of birds? Mechanical eagles instead of just prows with a bird’s head.”

“Of course, a full body, like those dwarven toys. The pilot shall sit inside and steer with the eyes of the vessel-beast. And eagles, the audience in Valmar shall embrace a story with riders of giant eagles or hawks, for the animals beloved most by Manwë are the most popular of the Vanyar, second only to lions. Surely you noticed how often their motifs appear in the architecture of the city, in all those garish colors that you so disdain?”

The pen held in Heledir’s fingers had stilled, and he sat facing Findis with a quivering tension. She stared at his bright eyes with a dawning understanding. “No.”

“Lions!”

“No,” she groaned, but Heledir’s excited was undaunted. 

“Flying lions, Findis! Imagine it!”

“I am, and it is ridiculous.” Yet as she said this, the small honest smile returned to her face.

[acapaagoddess]

Boys as stationery products (part 1)

I just wanted to do a “types of people” thing, so herewego (sorry they’re so long)

Pencil: “making mistakes is human”. isn’t scared to mess up. actually quieter than you’d think. casual. wears peach pink. is that one person with legendary handwriting. owns at least three empty notebooks. skateboard. crooked smile. basically Chaos with a calm attitude. messy head, messy room. tol.

Kneaded rubber: has his shit together. has a need to help people. resilient but adaptable. is tough and cold when you first meet him but then he softens up. over time they adjust themselves to fit around the people they hang out with. sweaters. minimalist colours.

(Bonus: pencil (1) and kneaded rubber (2) as a duo: 2 cleans up after 1, sometimes taking blame for his mistakes. not attached at the hip, but got each other’s back. 2 kinda follows around 1 but only coz 1 has the confidence to make a decision or take a guess. their mutual annoyance towards Pen.)

Highlighter: never thinks of consequences. “go big or go home”. colourful af. has an in with a lot of different friend groups. stutters. confident and not judgemental. activist. loud. known for being platonic no matter how flirtatious they sound. 80s vibe.

Pen: holds grudges forever. remembers everything. smooth. has multiple gf/bfs. a bit posey. draws pretend tattoos on their skin. skid marks. loves unconditionally but delicately, if you anger them it won’t end well. neat.

Crayon / marker: nostalgic. still lives in the 2000s. childish. colourful imagination. v effected by other people and their opinions. can think unconventionally. always in their bedroom. busy style in clothes and decoration. prefers texting over hanging out. doesn’t want to grow up. candles.

Notebooks: crude drawings. pockets stuffed with magazine cut outs. stargazing. romantic. friendly. a quiet extrovert. lists, lists, lists. long messy hair. seeing beauty in everyday objects. expresses their love physically and their thoughts visually. much better at taking care of others than themselves.

[klywrites]

kly if you do a phone doodle (even a stick figure!) of my Falcon (tol girl, East Indian, long black hair in a single braid, gold nose ring) I will love you foreverrr

Claude how dare you make me attempt to draw a braid! :p

im love her @pen-for-sword

[rainyday-deer]

bcnnibeau replied to your post: Unrelated: I second the fact that Wirt gets really...

moga you gotta share with the masses

Well if u insist

Listen he’s gonna be a tol boy okay he just is. 6′1-ish.

His dad just isn’t in his life anymore and it sucks and it hurts but he’s come to terms with it by the time he’s in his twenties. His dad was a good dad, but after his parents divorced his dad just kinda... Drifted away and didn’t try too hard to stay in his life.

A sleepy bitch. He can and will sleep in and he sleeps deeply. He stays up relatively late but it’s a miracle if he can stay up past 1:30. Bigger miracle if he gets up before noon if he doesn’t Absolutely Have To.

He likes sweet coffee! Lots of creamer, maybe whipped cream if it’s offered. Sprinkles are optional.

Fancy journals and pens? He’s got a million. He also has a crossbody bag to carry them around in after a while.

He has a shirt with some animals playing instruments on it. It’s one of 3 t-shirts he has. Otherwise it’s a lot of sweaters, sweatervests, and button ups.

He’s kind of hesitant about going swimming. At most he’ll dangle his legs in and maybe get in the shallow end, but only if someone else is with him.

Not much of a drinker when he’s of age, but he’ll partake. He really only gets buzzed and then kind of sleepy.

He’s definitely got anxiety, and when he gets anxious, tends to draw closely to someone and stay with them as long as he can. As an adult, it’s a little better, and he’s definitely not as nervous as when he was a teenager. A little more confident, a little more self assured, but he definitely still gets Tripped Up, especially about someone he’s interested in.

I HC his birthday as November 17th /finger guns

[thejeksburyguy]

It's 1:14 AM. Shitpost the mime.

[Please let me sleep.]

[Screams in mime]

M: ? Where mime??

W: Fuk u, Maxwell

Wil: You know, you should really be asleep by now.

Wes: 🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻

[Bitch.]

(Full image)

I'm tired and awake, what else is new?

In recent news, I've discovered drawing without guidelines with a ballpoint pen feels like sexing the concept of happiness so I'll probably be doing that again sometime soon. (Please pardon my crass analogy, it's one in the morning rn.)

Also Wes has earrings because I'm thinking about wearing earrings right now.

In summary; Maxwell is a tol prick, Wilson doesn't know sleep-deprivation etiquette, Wes is Done, and TheJeksburyGuy is tired.

[tenebraetrash17]

RAIRE

 Yeet I also got an ask from @protectcabba2k but Shadow asked first, so congrats Shadow, you get the response thingamajig dfsgdh!

Much thanks for the ask!!!

My thoughts:

It’s gonna be hella biased, but….like, ngl, my otp. She fits Ravus so well, I have another ask explaining why that I’m still working on, so I’m not gonna dump it here. All I’m saying is that they’re similar in all the good ways, and different in all the right ways, and YOU SHOULD PUT RAVUS INTO DISSIDIA, SQUARE S H O T, I would love to see them meet someday!!

When I started shipping it, if I did:

Two years ago! Actually, it was one of those ships born from rp, and it was kind of cute because Ravus was the punching bag basically of everyone and he kept getting attacked by our local Ardyn, who is a godsend penned by @trashyhobochancellor on quotev, and two OC’s who were messengers of the gods, gone bad! So Lightning was stepping in like “ok, I’m your guardian now. quit following the Empire’s orders and letting yourself get beat up.” although Ravus was all like “B-but, my sister q-q I gotta do what I can to protect her and if that means getting beaten to death, then I’ll endure.” and what not. I promise I wrote him fancier than that. But yee, they had moments of saving each others life and just bonding over tea and talk about their sisters! It was cute!!

What makes me happy about them:

Everything, moving on-

JUST KIDDING. I don’t know, they have a great aesthetic look since I’ve always thought that bluish gray-silver and pink went pretty well together. Not to mention the fact that I just really enjoy the fact that they could both just be like “Ah yes, a lot of people are idiots…except you. You, I could get into.” I think I’ve talked about why this ship makes me happy so much, I’m drawing blanks and trying to figure it out but I also just kind of feel like they would have a “Why do we put up with this again?” “No idea.” kind of dialogue and just bonding over their begrudging affection for the idiots in their life. And their sisters, of course!!

Things done in fanfic (or in general, fandom) that annoy me: 

Hi, there is no content for these two so I can’t give my thoughts. BUT I CAN GIVE THOUGHTS ON HOW THE TWO ARE POTRYAED! SO SIT DOWN FAM, WE GOING INTO LECTURE TERRITORY!

Lightning: I really hate how she’s often portrayed as this emotionless, cold, heartless bastard who will just roll her eyes and look away. I even remember some fanfictions where she would be physically abusive to Serah and just…no, they argue like all siblings but ?? That wouldn’t happen? 

Ravus: IT’S BASICALLY THE SAME! Ok, there are so, many, fanfictions where he hurts Luna, is cruel to the point of no redemption, and just, I don’t like it. That Kingsglaive scene? Everyone? Where he was pulling her back to her room? She could have been killed if she was caught and he was trying to get her to safety. You would do the same for your sister. Also, same with Lightning, he’s not just some cold, emotionless bastard, he’s a snide idiot sometimes, but he’s not a cold emotionless bastard. He’s actually trying to talk to Ignis and make small talk in Episode Ignis, AND IGNIS DIDN’T ANSWER HIM, YES HI I AM STILL SALTY ABOUT THAT.

Long story short, they only beat up the fiancés of their sisters. Not their sisters.

Things I look for in a fanfic:

….Ummmmm, well, I mean, I kinda like the team up troupe, but also bonding is nice, I like bonding between them, discussing similarities, trying to have a nice peaceful discussion without their sisters being like “OWO DO I SENSE SOMETHING???” On that note, yOU KNOW WHAT WOULD BE CUTE?? SERAH AND LUNA TEAMING UP TO GET THEIR BIG SIBLINGS TOGETHER.  I mean, spice is nice too, I still have to finish that smut- Also! Things that kind of have tol-smol jokes !!! Like, Ravus constantly ribbing Lightning about not being able to reach things?? Cute banter? Bless.

Who I’d be comfortable with them ending up with, if not each other:

Oof, so for Ravus? I have gotta say…nobody actually. I can’t see him having too much good romantic potential in most people, although admittedly, Noctis actually seems like my closest bet. It’s going to be weird for me to confess this, but he’s the only one I could actually get the whole ‘oh, this could work’ thing. It’s just that with Ravus, he gives me a very traditionalist vibe, so I don’t think just about anyone would do. I kinda lowkey wanna head cannon that in the future where he lives, he found a hunter/old kingsglaive member and ended up falling for them and settling down.

And for Lightning?? Tough choice, but like, Caius? Potential, just lemme say that. Some A+ potential. Also, Wol (almost called him Wally), just, they were cute ok?? They were very cute !!!