#this is just advice on how i draw! not meant to be taken as advice for all art

[candiewrapper]

your art is awesome dude i love the way you draw characters and your more surreal stuff is such a big inspiration to meeee

might i ask what your sketches look like for working out the anatomy in your pieces?

For basic, flat poses (often in simple character drawings, ref sheets, etc) I work very free-hand! I start with the hips, do a square for the torso, and work everything in from there. Not very "correct" anatomy, but since they're cartoon animals I don't really mind! If I'm experiencing art block or simply cannot sketch, I use clip studio's 3D models as a base sometimes! I definitely recommend it, would've helped me a lot in the beginning LOL

Sadly for dynamic or more detailed drawings, I don't have any of sketches of those saved (computer storage rip). Next time I do a piece similar to these I'll post a timelapse! However, all of my non-commissioned art is free to trace for nonprofit fun & learning purposes. Dig around and have fun!! (and thank you so much omg!!!!)

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Gaming - "Beautiful Adeptus, Sky Weaver"

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

In which the Traveler and Paimon unknowingly come across a mysterious adeptus by the name of Sky Weaver while the two are exploring near the sparsely populated cliffsides of Mt. Mingyuan. Or; In which the long-forgotten tale of the adeptus Sky Weaver is uncovered by Aether from the lips of the various Adepti of the Nation of Liyue and the people who know them.

Prologue | Part 1 | (1.5) | Part 2 | (2.5) | Part 3 | (3.5) | Part 4 | (4.5) | Part 5 | (5.5) | Part 6 | (6.5) | Epilog | Extra 1 | Extra 2

                                                                                                   

🎆•♡•🎆•♡•🎆•♡•🎆•♡•🎆•♡•🎆•♡•🎆•♡•🎆

The silhouette of Yilong Wharf draws nearer and becomes larger with each step taken toward it; the distant view is rendered unfocused by the uneven terrain being traversed. The sleepy sun is drooping down behind the teal hills to the west, bathing the sky in an ethereal medley of pinks, yellows, and reds. The afternoon today seems to hold an air of melancholy that wasn't present in the last, yet it still has enough beauty to overshadow that faint sadness.

Aether sighs for what could've been the hundredth time today; his mind playing the memory of the events on Mt. Mingyuan on a loop. He did regret leaving the mountain, even if it was on request out of concern for his and Paimon's safety. There were so many questions he wanted to ask them, the possibility of also gaining more information about Lumine meant that most of them were about her. Yet there was also the mystery of Chenyu Vale's skies that he longed to uncover; the curiosity that it stirred in him tumbled about in his mind.

‘But… that's not too important right now…’  

The golden blonde thought as he gazed down at the snoozing fairy-like girl in his arms with soft eyes, gently moving a lock of white hair from her face.

“Don't worry, Paimon, I'll make sure to cook you something extra delicious once we get back to the Inn. I shouldn't have scared you like that.”  

Aether mutters to her as he strokes her head.

The small girl peels her eyes open just a bit and smiles sleepily at her traveling companion; her eyes are all red and puffy with dried tears in the corners of her eyes. 

“Hehe… Paimon will make sure… to hold you to that, so make sure you keep your promise, okay?”  

She whispers between yawns in her hoarse and scratchy voice; a little fist going up to rub at her eyes as the other takes a handful of his shirt.

The golden blonde only nodded and chuckled softly at her cute mannerisms, the display reminding him of a small child. He watched as she made futile attempts to fight sleep; eyes drooping and head bobbing to the side. The soft smile on his face only softened further as he took the initiative and began to gently rock her back and forth. Paimon seemingly finally relents and falls into slumber; her little hand still holding onto his shirt.

Aether sighs once again, somehow traveling with Paimon has made him miss his sister even more with each passing day. Instead of being the younger sibling, he feels like the older one. He'd always wanted a younger sibling, to be looked up to and relied on, to be sought out for protection or advice. Somedays, he wonders if Lumine is relieved now that he's not tagging along with her everywhere; since he fished the small girl out of the water on the beach under Starnatch Cliff, the golden blonde has learned how much responsibility is required to take care of someone younger than you.

The familiar sight of charcoal gray shingled white walls closes in as the golden-eyed boy approaches the side entrance of the wharf. He can already see the adeptea filled shallow baskets that were sat out to dry in the hot sun a couple days before. The children that usually wandered about and played had long retired back to their homes and into their beds at this time of day.

The setting sun, now just barely peeking over the rolling hills in the distance, has blanketed the landscape in a warm peach film. 

Hopefully, tomorrow will be far more productive.

It had been a few days since the incident at Mt. Mingyuan and Aether had thought it best to begin making their way back towards Liyue Harbor. At the moment he and Paimon were behind Mt. Lingmeng on the side opposite to river Jademouth; about halfway to Qioaying Village. The two were now enjoying some of the golden-eyed traveler's cooking as they relaxed after the days of walking that they had endured.

In the peaceful atmosphere, the only noises were the rhythmic sloshing of the river beside them, the bubbling of the water cooking pot, and the crackling of the fire beneath it, Paimon's munching, and—

“Oh! Hey Traveler!” 

A familiar voice called out to the golden blonde and broke him from his observation; the figures of a certain aspiring wushu dancer and his suanni companion coming into view.

Aether smiled, it had been a while since the two had last seen each other. Gaming's refreshing grin never failed to put the otherworldly blonde at ease when he was stressed; not to mention he always carries around that delicious winter melon cake.

Paimon grins as she floats off the chair that she was sitting on previously; overenthusiastically waving to the ochre-eyed boy and Man Chai. A chunk of chicken on the skewer that the girl was violently waving around flew and landed on the ground, making her whine and pout. The golden blonde chuckles at her as he pulls more food out of the cooking pot that he was kneeled over.

“I hope I'm not interrupting you both. I saw you from the road and thought I'd say hi!” 

The red-brunette goods transporter chirped kindly as he approached the small camp that the traveling pair had set up just off to the side of the nearby dirt road.

Aether only shakes his head in response and offers the other boy a few skewers; piercing steaming and fragrant chunks of chicken and mushrooms onto a few more of the still bare sharp ended sticks. Gaming thanks him and grabs a few, though the golden blonde suspected that it wasn't out of hunger but to be polite.

The four of them –well, three, since Man Chai can't really talk– caught each other up on what they had been up to while the other was away. In the midst of it all, however, a certain otherworldly boy had an epiphany. Didn't Gaming know Cloud Retainer? If he knew her, he might also know that mysterious adeptus that was on the mountain! Although it might be a small stretch, it was worth a try at the very least.

“Hey, Gaming. Do you know of any adepti that live on Mt. Mingyuan or like to visit it often?” 

The golden-eyed traveler eagerly inquired during a moment of comfortable silence between the trio.

Aether's sudden question had brought an expression of deep thought to the red-brunette's face; the boy's brow and nose crinkling as he contorted his face in contemplation. It was truly a cute display, though Paimon and the golden blonde wouldn't dare to say it out loud just in case they embarrassed the other.

Tapping his chin, the ochre-eyed boy glances to the side as if he had found an answer, but was unsure if it was the correct one. But, he nodded to himself with resolve before turning his gaze back to the long haired boy.

“I think I know who you're talking about. I don't know his name since he never told me, but he let me give him a nickname instead. Uncle Měilì is what I call him.” 

Gaming replies, yet his answer only seems to raise even more questions.

“Uncle Měilì? Why did you call him uncle? Ah! Are you half adeptus!? Hey! How could you hide that from Paimon!?” 

Paimon exclaims, spewing questions while placing a hand on her chest and giving Sword & Strongbox goods transporter a scandalized look; leftover food scraps still clinging to the corners of her mouth.

The ochre-eyed boy chuckles in a bashful way as a cartoon sweatdrop falls down the side of his head in a slow and comical fashion. Scratching the back of his head; he looked away in embarrassment at the sound of the name Měilì coming from another person's mouth. He was really bad at naming things when he was young, it seems.

“No, he's not my uncle by blood. He's just taken care of me from time to time since I was little,so I call him Uncle. It's like how I call Aunty Xianyun, Aunty.”

The red-brunette explains, adjusting his position to sit cross-legged instead of crouching just above the grass covered ground.

Paimon bobbed her head in understanding, her white hair bouncing and swaying along with the movement before Aether grabbed her chin and turned her face in his direction. He brought a small rag up to her cheeks and wiped away the leftover crumbs from earlier that had been bothering him; muttering something about how the small girl was 'so messy'.

“Did this adeptus you're talking about have the form of a glowing cloud of mist? Maybe glowing as well?” 

The golden blonde asked absentmindedly, his focus still occupied with cleaning up his fairy-like companions' appearance.

Gaming's eyes seemed to glimmer with familiarity at the other boy's words. He grinned widely, holding up his weight with his palms pressed into Chenyu Vale's token blueish-greenish grass. His body rocked back and forth with giddiness as memories flooded in and swirled around in his brain.

“He let you see his illuminated beast form? You both are lucky; he's usually not comfortable enough to allow people to know he's there, let alone see him. I even have a hard time convincing him to let me see it.” 

The goods transporter gazes at them both with admiration, clearly impressed by their normally impossible feat.

Aether raised a brow, his mind stewing with the new information. That was ‘Uncle Měilì’ true illuminated beast form? Weren't the adepti all some iteration of the ancient beasts of Liyue? Considering the other known adepti and their adeptal forms;

Zhongli is a dragon, Cloud Retainer and Mountain Shaper are cranes, Moon Carver is a stag, Madam Ping….?, Xiao is some type of bird, Ganyu is Half Qilin, Yanfei is Half… something, Tubby and Chubby are finches?, Changsheng is a Serpent, Fujin is a Carp, and Lingyuan is a Suanni?

All of them are some type of animal, so what's with the adeptus on Mt. Mingyuan?

“Is he not an illuminated beast? I mean- I know you called it his illuminated beast form, but all Paimon and I saw was a cloud of mist.” 

The golden blonde asked as he finally pulled away from his little friend, turning his gaze back to Gaming.

“You sure are curious about Uncle, but I don't mind answering more questions. Uncle is an illuminated beast; under the cloud of mist is a tortoise. The cloud is kind of like a tortoise shell from what I've seen.”

The red-brunette answers him calmly, tilting his head back to look up at the darkening sky, the sun beginning to hide itself behind the hills in the distance.

Golden eyes follow the aspiring wushu dancer's vision, taking note of the time. Aether then turns to his travel bag, opening one of the pouches and pulling out a sleeping bag.

“How about you stay the night with us, it'll take a while for you to get to the next village.” 

The Outlander suggests, lifting the sleeping bag towards Gaming with a kind smile that had an underlying pleading look to it.

Ochre eyes curve into crescents as the boy grabs onto the offered sleeping bag, carefully bringing it towards himself as he beams at the golden blonde in gratitude.

“Im- I'm heading back to Wangshu Inn in the morning to let Miss Verr Goldett know that their goods have been delivered… Do you want to come with me, since you're heading that way anyway?” 

The red-brunette suggests, shyly diverting his gaze to the side and scratching the back of his neck.

Both boys get under the covers of their respective sleeping bags, facing each other as their companions also slide themselves into the warmth of the makeshift bed.

“That would be nice, it's been a while since I've traveled with someone other than Paimon.”

Aether spoke in a whisper, golden eyes heavy with fatigue; he paused for a while before speaking once more.

“Goodnight, Gaming.”

“Goodnight, Traveler.”

The red-brunette whispers back, snuggling deeper into his sleeping bag.

“Goodnight, Traveler and Gaming don't let the cincins bite.”

Paimon's sleepy muffled voice called out the two from her place inside her and the golden blonde's shared sleeping bag.

“Rrmph”

Man Chai grumbles, softly headbutting Gaming's chest in complaint.

“Hehe Yes, you too, Man Chai.” 

The ochre-eyed boy chuckles as he softly pats his suanni companion on their furry head.

As the four fell into slumber, the moon rose into the sky. Vibrant colors weave themselves into the dark tapestry that was the blackened night sky, creating a colorful masterpiece.

🎆•♡•🎆•♡•🎆•♡•🎆•♡•🎆•♡•🎆•♡•🎆•♡•🎆

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Genshin Masterlist and Series Masterlist!

If you want to be added to the tag list, please let me know! #thetaleofskyweaver @itztaki @sassy-cat-in-town @xharisrealm @lupicalbestwolf @pjmsies @just-here-reading @chibiduck @dellalyra @kiiyoooo @heavenlysilence0vx @2nd-number @yourfavoritefreakyhan @mshope16 @paastaboi @a-little-pebbl

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

hi! could a request a scenario with sebek where his s/o is really short and quiet and so he doesn’t notice them behind him and accidentally elbows them in the head or face and ends up injuring them? and how he feels and takes care of them after it happens

Sebek Zigvolt:

Sebek was a strong advocate for loudly announcing your presence before entering a room.

He had come up with this rule only because you’d stood around waiting to draw his attention for almost too long, politely

allowing him to finish a conversation before speaking up. He was surprised then, eyes wide as he asked just how long you had been standing there waiting to speak with him. He seemed more annoyed than even you were, scolding you on standing tall (hard to do when you’re short) and puffing out your chest with some authority so you drew attention to yourself. You had nodded and promised to try, pushing his advice to the back of your mind as you got on with the task you had been given.

But clearly, you should’ve taken him a little more seriously.

You can see the shock in Sebek’s face as you let out a pained cry, hand protectively cradling your potentially broken nose. His eyes start out wide, like an enemy observing its prey and getting ready to chomp down on their throat, but they soften when he realized it was just you. There’s a brief moment where he’s getting ready to address you before his brain noticed the slight amount of blood dripping from between your fingers to the floor.

“W-What happened?!” He asked, wincing as you did the same and took a step back out of reflex. He’d already elbowed you in the face once, you and your bones weren’t prepared for round two. “Come here!”

Nurse Sebek is on the case as he sat you down on a nearby chair, whipping his head around for any cloth in the area he could use. He demanded you keep pinching your nose until he was back, rushing around the dorm like a madman as he gathered all the material he needed; he requested Silver get some ice from the cafeteria for him as he didn’t want to leave your side for that long, his sleepy companion nodding without question. Sebek was in such a frantic state, with a splash of blood on his hands, so Silver could only assume something had happened to either you or Malleus (which he would know about if it was the young master) and that meant achieving his task before discovering what had happened.

The pain is subsiding ever so slightly and the bleeding has finally slowed, with Sebek having you keep your hands at your side as he carefully dabbed at your face with a wet towel. He was concentrating more than he did on his exams, a gentle touch he didn’t normally apply being used as he couldn’t bear to worsen your wounds that he caused. You could see there was guilt written everywhere across his face, the brief tears that had gathered in the corners of his eyes after he realized he had been the one to hurt you coming to mind again, almost making you want to cry.

“…I’m sorry.”

“…Excuse me?”

“I should’ve announced myself like you told me… I’m sorry.”

Sebek looked frustrated, clenching the towel so tight his knuckles turned whiter. He doesn’t reply at first which sets you a little on edge, he wasn’t really one to keep things to himself and the lack of communication was already setting your anxiety off.

“It was my fault. I’ll take the responsibility for it.” He’s still quieter than you’d ever heard him be but at least he’s talking now; you wanted to reach out to touch him, to hold his face and tell you that you accepted his apology but you knew he hated being coddled like that. “I-I’ll clean your uniform as well! And the floor--"

"Thank you, Sebek. I appreciate your help!" You gave a small nod, slipping in a reassuring smile as well before Sebek went back to dabbing at the still red areas where dried blood was. "And you are forgiven. Please don't beat yourself up over this."

Sebek just had to train more. To sharpen his senses so he could detect you, to know when you had entered the room without you having to be the one to speak up. He should've been training himself for such a situation this entire time, considering he knew how stealthily you could maneuver, and yet he had neglected to act despite telling you to change your own behavior.

He would become a better man, a better body guard, by honing this trait.

And he would hopefully never have to see you wounded again.

[genericpuff]

When it comes to a drawing tablet do you recommend a beginner get one with a screen or one without specifically for webcomics?

So what you use the tablet for ultimately doesn't matter. Webcomics, illustration, animation, they're just different expressions of the same overall skillset. I've gone from using desk tablets to screen tablets and then back to desk tablets again. My current setup is a Huion Inspiroy Giano which is a very large desk tablet (no screen) with a Huion Kamvas 22 Plus as my display (screen).

(hi jim lol)

Now this obviously seems INCREDIBLY redundant but the reason why it's like that is because I used to use the Huion Kamvas 22 Plus as my screen tablet... until the pen input stopped working :)""" But it still works perfectly fine as a display! When I was shopping around for new drawing tablets though, I wasn't sure if I wanted to take the financial risk on another screen tablet. The Huions are a lot cheaper than the Wacom models which is great for people looking for inexpensive options, but if it meant I'd have to replace my screen tablets more often than my old Wacom Cintiq, then it wasn't gonna be worth it (but I didn't want to dump $2k on a tablet again LOL)

So I wound up getting a desk tablet instead! I had used Wacom desk tablets a lot prior to screens, and while it had been a few years, I re-adjusted in no time. The Huion Inspiroy Giano is, so far, a very reliable tablet. It just connects with a USB, no crazy 3-in-1 cables like the screen displays. It satisfies my need for a large tablet (seriously, if I can offer any piece of advice in regards to tablets, size does often matter because if a tablet is too small you'll be over-relying on your wrist for motions which isn't good for line integrity or your hand health!!!!) but it didn't break my budget like the Wacom tablets (and didn't feel as risky as buying another Kamvas 22 Plus after what happened the last time).

The only downside to it is that it has a bit of a rough surface to it which I find does a lot of initial wearing down on the nibs. I mean fr look at this thing-

And that will happen after only like, a few hours of use LOL that said, I've been using this nib for like 2 months now and it hasn't worn down more than that, so if you don't mind your nibs having a visible slant to them, it really doesn't cause any other issues.

That said, I've only had this tablet for about half a year now. I also used to sing praises for the Kamvas 22 Plus until it suddenly decided it wasn't going to work anymore without explanation, so... take my review of the Inspiroy Giano with grains of salt. At least though if this thing mysteriously stops working like the Kamvas did, I'll only have to pay $200-$300 to replace it vs. the Kamvas' $700+. It's still not a small amount of money, but it pays itself off quickly (and it's a lot cheaper compared to the equivalent Intuos Pro line from Wacom, which costs upwards of $500+ for a decently sized one).

Screen tablets are definitely helpful to have though, and I wouldn't object to returning to the screen displays once I can justify dropping money on one again. I still use a screen display on the go via my iPad Pro. But I don't think desk tablets should be taken for granted as a perfectly viable tool either, I think the initial learning curve tends to intimidate people a lot, but they're really quite comfortable to use once you adjust to the translation of desk tablet to monitor. You can also adjust the screen settings through the tablet driver anyways, which is what I did for my tablet because it was a little too big in spots where I had to reach really far to get to the color wheel tab on the right... so I just reduced the screen ratio to make up for it :)

I find once you learn how to use both - and learn your foundations in digital art - the desk tablet vs. screen tablet debate just boils down to personal preference rather than any real difference in what they can do for your art. I've drawn stuff like Rekindled on screen displays, desk tablets, iPads, etc. You might try a desk tablet and not like it after a while (though again, with the initial skill ceiling of adjusting to it, give it a few weeks of trying if you can, you will not immediately get used to it overnight!!!) and decide that screen tablets are more up your alley.

It really depends on what you're wanting to pay for a tablet. Though like with any new skillset that you're just getting into, I wouldn't recommend dropping money on the most expensive tool because ultimately the differences between expensive and cheap aren't going to be noticeable to you until you actually learn the skill itself, and it's not uncommon at all for people to pick up a new skill, shell out shitloads to learn it, and then get discouraged when it takes a while and makes the expense feel like a waste. Those higher end tablets are often more suited for professionals, not because they're "only meant for pros", but because pros will be able to fully utilize all their upper-skill features in a way a newbie who's still learning how to use a desk tablet won't.

Thankfully, it's easier than ever to get an affordable tablet that's easy to learn and Wacom is no longer the "only option", so I highly recommend looking into brands like Huion, XP-Pen, and Gaomon, as they offer very inexpensive tablets with a wide array of options from desk tablets to screen displays. Make sure you do your research on them, check out places like reddit for actual human reviews, note that every brand and tablet will come with their pros and cons, so it's really just about weighing out what you feel will work best for you and what you're trying to achieve!

And of course, if you're looking to draw comics specifically, look into Clip Studio Paint! It goes on sale at least twice a year, the PRO version is literally all you need to get started (EX comes with some helpful features like Teamwork, but like those fancy high end tablets, they won't necessarily be useful to someone who's just starting out). The PRO version comes with all the rulers, panel cutters, text tools, etc. that you need to get into making comics, it's a great piece of software !!!

I hope that helps!!! Best of luck!! ( �� ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

[physalian]

There’s this unskippable Google AI ad on YouTube where this girl consults the robot about how to cancel dinner plans with the people across the table in the most annoying voice (likely because I have seen this ad now and had to listen to her asinine questions 20 times at least) and this ad, right here, speaks to my frustration around AI:

It disincentivizes critical thinking.

I know the ad is a joke and meant to be lighthearted and I’m only this annoyed because it’s unskippable and irritating af, but every time I see it all I can think is “if you can’t manage enough creativity and critical thinking to come up with your own excuse to cancel on your friends, maybe you shouldn’t have those friends.”

I have a relative who is firmly in the ChatGPT camp and, for example, yesterday I was trying to figure out how to compress a video file and was venting to them about it. They sent me back something I didn’t read from ChatGPT. Meanwhile, I looked up a YouTube video and figured out how to do the rest on my own, and getting the file compressed was immensely satisfying. Far more than mindlessly and thoughtlessly consulting the robot.

“It’s just like a YouTube video!” They’d told me.

No, a real person put time and effort into that video. That robot stole their content without their consent, didn’t credit them, and spat it back out. I used to patronizingly refer to ChatGPT as "the magic conch" and now I can barely do that anymore because that metaphor is becoming all-too real.

While I can understand the barriers it lowers—like if you struggle with writing the robot does it for you, or if you need a piece of art and are too poor, you can generate it for free. Mindless, repetitive tasks that eat up creative juices that can just be automated by a robot, too (even though everyone can tell when a response is canned and artificial and no one appreciates talking to a machine).

If you keep consulting ChatGPT for how to articulate what you want to say, or just straight-up having it do the hard work for you, you’re never going to learn. Yes it’s taken me 8 years to reach the quality and skill of writing I have but as another Tumblr post out there said: The time will pass anyway.

I can’t draw to the skill level that I’d like to. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to keep practicing until I get there. I thrive off that sense of accomplishment. There’s no little hit of dopamine from typing in a prompt and clicking a button and I certainly don’t appreciate the final product scalped without consequence from real artists.

Or, like when I had to fire a beta reader for flagrant abuse of AI in her work: I can copy-paste my manuscript into ChatGPT, too. I’d paid her for a human response, not garbage feedback that couldn’t understand what I was writing beyond that there were words on the page. I wanted so badly to ask her why she does a job in a creative field if she's just going to have a robot do all the fun parts? I beta read at a great loss of profit because I enjoy beta reading and it's a fiercely competetive market. Surely if she wanted to scam people, she could have done so in so many other ways. You don't need to know how to pen complex prose in your every day life, but by god, you do need to know how to effectively communicate, contextualize, and argue your perspective and this ridiculous ad joking about cancelling dinner plans sure is funny, until it isn't.

And I know the people who made AI probably did so with the best of intentions but people can be lazy and cheap and we love taking shortcuts to save money and I stand by this: "Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn't stop to think if they should."

So. Yeah. This is a writing advice blog and this post has almost nothing to do with it, but that ad annoys me to no end and I had to say something somewhere about it. Bottom line: Robots were supposed to make the hard jobs, the monotonous jobs, the overcomplicated jobs, the belittling jobs easier, not make us all into pudding-boned Wall-E people. If you want to write, learning is absolutely free - write on the back of your grocery receipts for all I care. If you want to draw, pick up a notebook and pack of pencils from the local dollar store and start drawing.

What you made will always mean more to you than something that didn't cost you time, effort, brain power, or even money to obtain.

[kali-chaotic-neutral]

Advice

Pick a cat and get some much needed advice

This will include:

~Advice you might need ~Something you have to hear ~Insight on something

Disclaimer: this is just for entertainment purposes, and as a pick-a-card reading it may not resonate for everyone. Take what you resonate with, leave what you don't.

Please do not hesitate to suggest a few PAC reading topics as I am struggling with these type of posts.

Cat 1:

I feel as though you may be in a sort of identity crisis. Maybe you're going through a time of major change, and it is causing some crisis of sorts. You're worldview has been shaken and you're brain chemistry has been altered dramatically. Additionally, this could be some drastic change in your spirituality or maybe you're leaving a religion for another or just leaving religion entirely and being hounded by your community for doing so. I know it's stressful, I know you're probably extremely critical of yourself, picking and panicking over every little mistake you make. I want you to take a deep breath and know that this isn't the end of the world. Take the energy you use to criticise yourself to maybe journal, do some shadow work or gratitude journalling. You don't have to write paragraphs after paragraphs. Even one bullet point can make a difference. Let out your thoughts on paper so you don't end up blowing up on someone. and regretting it. Let it out, clear your head and do some damage control before evaluating what steps you have to take to get yourself out of this pit.

Try to reconnect with your inner child, let that child within you have their moment. Do something simple and childish, colour a book, draw. Do something you've always wanted to do, surround yourself with people you love and your friends, let them help you. Trust that those who care about you have your back. Do not let this temporary setback make you lose sight of what you want. This stressful and dark time you are going through is coming to an end. The only reason this moment seems endless to you, is because it is YOU that is unintentionally dragging this moment. Maybe you're stretching on an argument, or clinging onto a grudge, or just simply holding onto bad habits. You are hurting yourself at this point, and there is no one else to blame but yourself. Accept this pain, let go of this grudge or actually try to stop repeating bad habits. And it's not easy. I have a smoking habit myself, but I am taking steps. I haven't smoked for a month now and it has taken too many failed attempts for me to get here. Do not prolong this situation, because when you fall it will hurt even more. Try stepping out of your comfort zone, baby steps is perfectly fine. For me, getting out of my comfort zone meant wearing more form fitting outfits. I started with crop tops and a jacket over, then moved onto just crop tops and jeans. Then only recently have I gotten the confidence to get out of the house in flared leggings. Very simple, yet so effective in telling you: "Hey, it's okay. See, You're fine. You look so beautiful when you're confidently wearing what you want.". Everyone's journey is different, take your time, but taking the steps is what matters.

Cat 2:

There is someone (or was someone) in your life that absolutely changed your life for the best, someone that was there for you in your hardest time. You might be feeling a bit guilty in the sense that they are always there for you, that whatever you give them (or want to give them) seems inadequate, or maybe this person is not in your life anymore and you feel guilt for not expressing your gratitude while they were there. The guilt is weighing you down, and might be leading to insecurities as well. Just know that even a simple acknowledgement and thanks is a gift, while not the most extravagant, it does hold meaning. Open your heart, let them know how grateful you are. And if you struggle with this, a small simple, meaningful gift will always send the message. A gift is a gift, it's the thought that matters. Let this person know, that you appreciate them for more than the comfort they bring you. And if they aren't in your life anymore and it feels like it's too late, it can be as simple as a journal entry addressed to this person. Pour out your heart and write the letter as though you would send it to them if they were present. Or maybe you went through a rocky split up (romantic, platonic) and you want to reach out but you're unsure whether or not you should. Give it a shot. If the other person doesn't respond or responds very harshly, let it go. At least you tried. Or maybe things just fell apart. Me and a few of my high school friends went to different colleges and just stopped chatting with each other. And even now, it's so awkward to try and chat with them, but also so awkward to unfollow them.

Take some time off if you can, maybe during a special occasion. If you're celebrating something with this person, let it be more intimate. Maybe with close friends/family or even just you and this person. Make time for this person, like they do for you. Or maybe it's a day that reminds you of them, honour them by doing something they enjoyed. One thing my grandmother enjoyed doing when she was alive was travelling to sacred, religious places where I live. Every year, my family and I go to these places, pray for her and have fun because she would have wanted that for us. If you've had a split up with this person with so many unsaid things, reach out. Get your closure, clear the air of misunderstandings if there are. If it's with someone you've gradually lost touch with and the awkwardness has stopped you from reaching out. Don't. Reply to their story, send them messages or posts online. let them know that you want to rekindle the friendship. Let them know, that you are also wanting to have this relationship (platonic, romantic). I've said to try and rekindle the relationships/reach out so many times and here I am saying it again: MEND THE RELATIONSHIP!!! BUILD BACK THE FUCKING BRIDGE! Forgive them, but also most importantly, forgive YOURSELF!! It's normal being hard on yourself. This however, what you're saying/doing to yourself is not it bbg. You need love right now, sweet summer child, not criticism. Put your inner critic on the back seat, let your inner healer take control. Do some self care. Face masks, spa, massage, manicure/pedicure. Take care of yourself.

Cat 3:

You're in a crisis. You have conflicting emotions that are fluctuating so fast it's giving you whiplash. Maybe you're facing a choice where you have to leave what you have known. Maybe you're home for further studies or maybe you're planning on moving homes or cutting off contact with family or friends you've known for a long time. It's difficult, because you are potentially leaving what you've always known, what your comfortable with/or people who you've known for a long time. There will always be people who will not support your decision, especially if you're cutting off contact with close family members or friends who you used to always be with. This crisis/conflicting emotions are more so due to you not wanting to deal with criticism from people you've grown up with and less to do with whether you want to do it or not. Because you do. You know it is what you want, but the potential of people's reaction is what's stopping you. If you always walk on eggshells when making decisions, to appease the people around you, you won't make it far. Stop caring about the opinion of people who don't have your best interests at heart.

Maybe what you are pursuing (If it is further studies/a job) is something that you've always wanted to pursue but have been discouraged to do so because it: "Won't put a roof over your hear head and feed you". A creative job/study. Art, music, dance, literally anything that requires creativity. Don't let these people have you give up on your dreams and instead have you slave away at a stressful office job/"prestigious" job. Don't be afraid to splurge on yourself once in a while. Treat yourself to a nice dinner in a fancy restaurant, or buy yourself something you've always wanted. Or even simpler, take a self care day. Take your time bathing, put on a face mask, dress yourself up (even if it is just to go get groceries) If you want to see change, you must initiate it. Don't be a sheep that follows people around mindlessly, take control/the reins if you have to. Assert yourself. Let your opinions stand out, true and strong.

Cat 4:

You're stretching out something tense, maybe an argument, maybe something that really angered you. And i'm not saying that you're anger is not justified. It is, what's not justified is how you're dragging this out. Blowing this situation out of proportion, making a mountain out a molehill. You are getting on the defensive, feeling the strong urge to prove that you are correct or that you didn't do something (or perhaps did) But at this point you're arguing at the wall honey. Know when to stop your battles, get yourself in check before the universe slaps you in the face. The other party has already dropped out, not wanting to spend their time arguing an age old issue. Come to terms with what happened, and try to calmly speak your mind. If you can't, journal it. let it go.

This conflict has you shaken and feeling unsure. What I'm getting is to make sure you're not biased, make sure to listen to the other person's side as well. Just listen and make your decision then. Because if you make a decision right now, it will only be more chaotic. Don't make a decision yet, wait, give yourself some space to clear your head because you're mind is not in the right space to make important decisions right now. Maybe this conflict is between you and a friend or a sibling/family member. I'm feeling that this conflict could be solved if you were to communicate, but there is such a clear lack of it that I am quite speechless. Talk things out, calmly and clearly, let them know how they hurt you and let them apologize/talk as well. Forgive if you can. Enforce boundaries with this person, maybe they overstepped despite your warnings and it was what caused this conflict. Remember, forgiving is good but it's not necessary to heal. If this person has been constantly overstepping your boundaries, firmly set them and cut off contact if you must. Or just be very firm and strict with your boundaries, you might have a habit of caving in to this person walking all over you. Not anymore.

[purplebehittindifferent]

FAQ!!!!

before asking, check this out!

How many comic series do you have?

TLDR: As of currently I have 3!

Reconnecting: my deltarune fan comic. It is completed and the masterpost can be found on my pinned.

SpiderVerse: this is completed… for now. I had more plans but they fell through as the friends I had planned to do them with, left. Link on pinned.

IEYTD: this is just little comics scattered about, masterpost in on my pinned :)

RULE5: coming soon!

(if you would like more masterposts send an ask <3)

Is there going to be more reconnecting??!

TLDR: kind of? vvv

There will be no more COMIC/DRAWN content related to reconnecting (at least no more than the occasional doodle.) but I do plan to keep writing fanfiction on Ao3 to continue the story as long as it will go.

Can I send prompts for fics or art?:

Of course! Just know I might not be able to do them all!

Vivi “enjoyers” can be a bit much… are you comfortable with the way they (we) act?

I’ve decided long ago that Vivi is welcome to any sort of reaction. You are welcome to draw her however you’d like etc etc. as long as you don’t force others to look at it if they would not like, I do not mind what you do for your own enjoyment. Enjoy!

Your art is online and your AO3 is open! aren't you scared AI is going to steal it!?:

TLDR: my ao3 will remain open, my art will always be here vvv

I hate AI stealing creators' content as much as everyone else does. However, more so, I want anyone to be able to access real art. I have selected all of the available options to keep my works from being taken, and am very aware that the only way to keep my work safe on AO3 is to close it to guests. 

It took me, an avid fanfic reader, 4 years to get an Ao3 account. I care more about you guys being able to read what makes you happy and feeds your brain worms, than I care about my writing being stolen for this AI boom we are living in. It would tear me apart if you wanted to access my writing but had to wait so long for an account. 

I do not support AI in any form that replaces human beings, and though I know eventually I may never be able to have my work safe from AI on any platform, I will keep sharing it, and downright refuse to take it down. 

Taking all of my art down in fear of AI will be something I never do. In that way AI will kill me just as much as if it started stealing my work. Art is meant to be seen and shared. They will not take that from us.

I believe there is a group of people who like real artwork and writing made by real people. And I keep my trust in those people to see the value in non AI generated content. 

We will persevere.

Is fanart allowed?

TLDR: YES

SO MUCH YES. I BEG PLEASE PLEASE if you create fan content of my content or content inspired by my content, that is absolutely as long as I am either credited or @ on the post so I can see!!!

Where can I read RULE5?

TLDR: Rule5 isn't released yet!

Rule 5 is my original comic in progress, I have posted teaser art and some concept stuff. The hope is that it will start releasing weekly in early 2025. I am completing all the art first, so that it can have a consistent upload schedule and I can relax for a while. Trust me when I say- I will not shut up once it is available.

I want to make a comic but don't know where to start…

TLDR: DM me!!

My DMs are always open to genuine questions! I've actually spoken with many people who wanted to start their own series and have been told it's been helpful!

Though my biggest advice is GO FOR IT!!!!! The first couple updates might not gain a ton of traction right away, but persevere, keep going, and @ me so I can reblog it to help support you!!!

Are you LGBTQ+?

TLDR: nope :) cishet.

Many people have asked me this lol

Where can I find the masterposts and links to your other socials?

They are all on my pinned!!!

You have mental disorders + illnesses… What are they?

Respectfully it is none of your business. I try to spread awareness because I believe that is very important, but I also try to keep my personal things personal. If i'm ever outright about something, feel free to ask questions, and if i'm uncomfortable I will just say I do not wish to answer <3

How do I commission you?

There is a link on my Ko-Fi that goes to my comms!

 If you have any questions before ordering you can DM me anytime. Click the option you want, order it, and it will give you instructions from there. I check my orders once a day. If you set your order and I have not gotten back to you, please DM me it's possible I missed it.

Do you/will you draw NSFW and post it?

Not here.

Are you really in my walls?

Yep. I'm not kidding. That skittering you hear? It's me. Go hydrate yourself or I'll steal all your left shoes.

I found your work reposted without credit, should I tell you?

Yes please tell me!! I have not found any of my stuff randomly reposted without credit but I'm sure it will happen someday.

What art program do you use?

I use procreate! I highly recommend, as far as the brushes go, I use all of the base ones that come with the app itself. Nothing fancy.

Will you draw my OC?

If you commission me! sure!

if theres any more questions you think should be added here LMK

[i-hug-exploder-shanks]

Hiii!!! :3

Can I request a ficlet for O14? I really like the stories you write for them, and I have a prompt I want to see you make!!!

Anything at all just make something where Osiris is needlessly embarrassed by Saint!!! It'll be so cute!!

Oh no. Saint absolutely adores flustering Osiris so there are so many options! A cheeky surprise kiss somewhere semi-public, a cheesy pet name used in front of Ikora/the vanguard, Saint just being his golden retriever level enthusiastic self and complimenting his partner in a situation where it draws extra attention to Osiris... Hmmm. What to choose?

Osiris crossed his arms as he leaned against a wall near the edge of the arena where Saint was tossing around another titan he recognized as the young Daffyd. Watching Saint use his shield to catch the other Titan's Fist of Havoc and shut him down before bashing him in the face with the same shield did bring a small smirk to his lips. Daffyd was a good person and a talented guardian so Osiris wasn't surprised Saint had taken him under his wing, but he had a feeling he knew the real reason for the training.

"He lasted a half second longer this time but I still don't think he'd best Lord Shaxx in a 1v1." He said stepping out and Saint smiled at him while Daffyd's ghost healed his bloodied face.

"Osiris, my love! I am so glad you came! Young Daffyd here wants advice on how to woo his warlock love and I figured a practical demonstration was in order." Saint said and before Osiris could ask what that meant he was being scooped off his feet and up into Saint's arms as if he weighed nothing.

"You see, Warlocks are often on the smaller size. They like to be scooped and held, but you must be careful not to squish them too much. Hold them gentle like bord." Saint announced to the delighted younger titan whole Osiris' face burned and he started to demand to be put down.

Saint ignored him.

"If your warlock is fiesty like mine then they will not stay settled for long, you will have to move quickly to transport them to the date you have set up. If they try to float away, usually you can keep them in place better like this..." Saint shifted his now spitting and threatening partner over his shoulder with a hand firmly on his ass, void suppressing any attempts Osiris made to try to set him on fire.

A quick jog had Osiris being seated at a picnic table that had been set up with a rather romantic looking display nearby where he glared at Saint with bright golden light in his eyes promising violence the moment the titan was even a inch off his guard.

Daffyd was openly snickering at this point, clearly loving the show. "Scoop, hold gentle, transport quickly... I understand. How do you keep them from setting you on fire or striking you with a million volts of electricity after you get them to the date?" He asked grinning and brushing some of his messy hair from his face.

"Ah, you must distract them! Warlocks cannot resist a puzzle like cats cannot resist a ball of yarn. Or you can just do something like this..." Saint directed and as Osiris opened his mouth to ask just how many crayons he had eaten that morning Saint knelt down in front of him on one knee and took Osiris' hand in both of his, violet eyes peering up at him with such intensity it stole any words right out of his mouth and left his throat feeling dry.

"Where you have flown, I have chased you and where I was lost you have found me. We have danced around each other for eternities yet every moment I see you the happiness and love I feel is like the first moment I realized my feelings all over again. Not even the most devoted of your cultists could ever compare to the adoration I have for you. Osiris, Phoenix of the Dark Ages and light of my life, will you marry me?" Saint asked while Osiris' face turned more and more red and the perception of anything outside the two of them vanished.

"Saint... Did you plan this?" Osiris choked out once he remembered how to use words again but Saint wasn't put off by the deflection.

"I did. Daffyd helped. As did Ikora and the Young Wolf and your new apprentice Lenore. They are waiting to either congratulate us or comfort us depending on your answer." Saint said waiting patiently as ever and Osiris' finally gave in.

"I suppose I will do you the honor of allowing you to call yourself my husband. You did go to all this effort." He said and Saint beamed at him and gently took a strip of violet fabric from his armor and tied it around Osiris' wrist over his sunbracers in a way that felt more intimate than any ring would have.

"Thank you. For indulging me in this and for giving me a chance all those years ago." Saint told him and finally stood to gently bonk their foreheads together and then kiss him.

The kiss started getting a little heated until a throat being cleared drew Osiris back to the moment and he hid his face in Saint's shoulder in embarrassment that he had forgotten Daffyd was still standing right there.

"I'm going to go share the good news with the others! Maybe go home before trying to undress each other, but yeah... Congratulations!" He said a little awkwardly before bolting, arc energy sparking from his heels as he ran away making Osiris laugh a little.

"We aren't that bad are we?" Osiris asked but Saint scooped him up again.

"Not yet but I think I will be happy to accept his suggestion this time. We should celebrate but we can take the wine and food home with us if you want." He offered and Osiris grinned.

"I think that's wise because you're still in trouble for grabbing my ass like that." He said the flames in his eyes returning but this time with a different sort of fire.

[yurisorcerer]

Dude.

Rarely am I left at an active loss for words by an anime. Yet, I think this is the third or fourth time Oshi no Ko has done that to me.

I'll try explaining anyway. The opening part of this episode takes the form of an unbroken excerpt of the Tokyo Blade stage play. Those first couple of minutes are pretty incredible on their own, leaving the entire actual plot of Oshi no Ko itself in the margins to express a clear love for this completely fictional shonen manga and this equally fictional adaptation of it. In doing so, Oshi no Ko, and everyone working on it, express love for the shonen anime as an art form and a worthwhile format. (And, indeed, for 2.5D plays as well.) Their pastiche is pretty damn fantastic. I won't go so far as to say that I'd rather be watching Tokyo Blade than a lot of *actual* shonen anime airing right now (Elusive Samurai has been great, after all), but the series makes a very good case for it as a compelling piece of art. Also, in having Oshi no Ko's characters portray *Tokyo Blade's* characters so well, it makes a compelling case for them, too. Kana is utterly enchanting as the hot-blooded Tsurugi, even when she's quelled by being bested in combat, and everyone else here puts in a great performance, too. One of Oshi no Ko's great magic tricks is making you think about how well the characters are acting, as though these were actual people.

Which leads us nicely into Oshi no Ko's actual greatest accomplishment this week. Getting You, The Viewer to shed tears over Melt.

Yeah, Melt. Remember Melt? Introduced in the first season as an actor in the Sweet Today TV drama, there instantly pigeonholed as a good-looking but talentless piece of cast filler. Melt has had a pretty compelling supporting arc in the second season, and it comes to a head here during a scene in the play where his character fights the character played by Sakuya. Sakuya, for his part, is a relatively recent addition to our cast, and has been previously introduced as a frivolous womanizer who likes to pick on Melt because Melt is a bad actor. In a sense, he's Melt's foil, being someone just as handsome but who's had to work harder to get where he is. The two's clash is thus both very literal but also very much a struggle for the audience's approval, and I don't just mean the audience watching the stage play.

During his part of the episode, Melt's on-stage performance is cut with backstory. In a sense, this is cheating. Obviously, we the audience would have sympathized with Melt much more from the beginning if it were made obvious to us from the start that Melt's general lack of drive is the result of a lifetime of people fucking him over just because he's pretty. At one point, mentioned in passing as though Melt himself doesn't want to dwell on it, he even mentions that he was taken advantage of when he was younger. A heartbreaking and sadly true-to-life detail that really recontextualizes a few things about the character.

Nonetheless, this is not an episode meant to make us *feel bad for* Melt. Honestly, there was already room to do that if you were so inclined. Instead, it's meant to explain where the inner reservoir of conviction he draws on here comes from. Melt's key scene in the play is a minute or two long at most, but over the course of the last several months, and at Aqua's advice, he's been pouring his entire heart and soul, blood, sweat, tears, and sleepless nights, into this *one* moment.

Aqua's advice also raises an interesting point. If everyone in the audience already thinks of Melt as a poor actor---and certainly, that seems to be the case---he can use that to his advantage. if they're underestimating him, they're set up to be surprised, and that is precisely what happens during the episode's climactic scene. Struck down, Melt's character scrambles to his feet and makes a heroic last stand against his enemy, summoning a magnetism that no one knew he had. This blindsides everybody; Sakuya, Tokyo Blade mangaka Abiko, the Sweet Today author who's also watching in the stands, the rest of the cast, the rest of the audience, and also, you know, the rest of the audience.

Again, part of the magic here is that Aqua's advice doesn't just explain Melt's methods in-universe, it explains *how he's been written up to this point to get us to be surprised as well.* This is the kind of thing you can only pull off if you're both very confident and incredibly talented at understanding how stories work; a magic trick that seems to explain itself as it's being performed, only for that damn rabbit to pop out the hat anyway, to your and everyone's complete surprise. Akasaka Aka's done it again, god damn it.

It should go without saying that this applies to the entire Doga Kobo team working on this series as well. There is absolutely nothing in their back catalogue that could've prepared anyone for how well they'd handle Oshi no Ko, and this is visually one of their best episode's yet, as Melt's sudden surge in charisma is presented as a swirled, painted acid trip. In the audience, Abiko bounces with enthusiasm that someone truly understands her work. In the audience, another mangaka cries. He is chasing after the one thing he's been missing up to this point, depicted literally as it happens figuratively; star power. When he seizes it, he shines like a supernova.

[multiplicity-positivity]

Hi !!! Um okay. So..

I know how this sounds kinda? Idk may just be paranoia. But.

I have some OCtives that are not my OCs and also some are based off of.... adopts....

What should i do when we split ocs based off of adopts? I know obviously i shouldnt use any art because i didnt pay for them, but i am afraid. Like.. what if that headmate doesnt want to change ( and they shouldnt HAVE to but. ) ?

same with OCtives. Most ocs i have let the owners know before leaving, and they understood but idk. I still feel weird.

hey, so headmates often can’t help who they are. and as we wouldn’t expect a factive or a fictive (whose source is often someone else’s original character) to change their appearance for the benefit of others, we feel similarly about this. because introjects can’t help who they are.

now, this isn’t us saying that any system who creates headmates gets a free pass to create headmates based off of any adopts they see that they want to own but don’t want to pay for. in general, we think that would be a selfish and mean thing to do.

this is a tricky situation, and we can’t say for sure that we have the best solution here, but the things that come to mind are…

- you could buy the adopt or pay for the design. then it is yours to use as you wish, and you can make art for your headmate to your hearts’ contents. if you cannot afford it at this time, perhaps you could speak to the artist and see if they would be willing to place the design on hold.

- you could explain the situation to this octive, and see if the two of you could collaborate to create a new appearance for them. you can unleash your creativity by drawing, writing out descriptions, or making picrews and see if anything sticks.

- you could let this headmate live their life without forcing them to change… without drawing them, getting commissions of them, or trying to depict them physically like the adopt or oc they are based off of. let them live their life and discover more about who they are as an individual. and if they ever reach a point where they notice some differences, in name, appearance, identity, what have you, then y’all may feel more comfortable with depicting them in art.

we are wary of saying “just go about your business with this headmate anyway and hope that the original artist doesn’t see that their design was taken without their consent,” because, while it’s true this headmate deserves to live as themselves as they see fit… this could definitely end up badly, for both the headmate and the artist who created their original design.

we know that none of these solutions are ideal, but we feel like it’s important to consider the original creators in these situations. ocs and adopts are inherently different from characters found in published works. the designs of the former may have strong personal connections and connotations with their creators, and the designs of the latter are meant to be purchased and used by others. while it’s true, the characters within published works may be personally very significant to their creators, by allowing others to interact and engage with their works, they are subjecting their characters to the interpretations of others. we feel like personal ocs are different in this regard.

so sorry if this response got rambly and doesn’t make much sense. if anyone else has any advice to share, it would be most welcome.

[pure-ablution]

There was an ask that said “extreme results require extreme measures” but what if you put in a tremendous amount of effort but didn’t get an exceptional reward in return. For example, my friend is a brilliant student and maintains a 4.00GPA for every semester but she is never accepted into any scholarships despite her being actively involved in extracurriculars and academics. I feel that the sentiment differs on the person’s race, gender, wealth etc. What are your thoughts on this?

This is exactly why I really push the notion of forging your own path, instead of following someone else’s blueprint. For some people, the ‘conventional’ route is nothing more than a Sisyphean exercise in exhausting futility, and working so hard against the grain in a circumstance which doesn’t suit or serve them is only ever going to leave them feeling extremely demoralised. Extreme results necessitate extreme measures, but extreme measures do not necessitate extreme results. Just because you are working hard and doing everything you’ve been told to do, doesn’t mean that you’re entitled to reap the rewards of those efforts. Digging for 10 hours straight won’t find you treasure, if the chest is buried on the other side of the island.

You need to be able to look at yourself objectively, figure out where you’re inherently at advantages and disadvantages, and make yourself a plan that is going to work for you, specifically and uniquely. I’ve already written about the dangers of shooting for the stars when the stars aren’t meant for you, but I also think that it’s important that we’re able to put ego aside for a moment and truly think about what’s going to benefit us in the long-term. You might think that you deserve the same results as another girl, but in reality, you only deserve what is meant for you, nothing more and nothing less. Peering into your neighbour’s bowl will bring you nothing except envy and wasted time.

There’s a reason that I went to a British university instead of an American one, there’s a reason that I participate in the extracurriculars I do, there’s a reason I’m with Alajos instead of an English lord or French businessman, there’s a reason I’m looking to go into auctions instead of academia or accountancy, and there’s a reason I’ve had the procedures I’ve had, wear the brands I wear, and do my hair and makeup in the way I do. Everything I do is strategically placed and specifically tailored to my own strengths and weaknesses; I know myself extremely well, I know where I’m welcome and where I’m not, and I know where to draw the line. The reason that I’m doing well for myself isn’t only because I’m a hard worker, but because I work hard in the right areas and in the right directions. I don’t waste my time on pursuits which go against that, and won’t benefit me in the long run.

I read a lot of asks from girls who say “I’ve done this-and-that as you did, but I’m not seeing results. Why aren’t I succeeding like you did?” and the answer is that they’re not me, they’re them, and they’re only going to see results from actions that work with, not against, what they’ve been blessed with. Race, class, and gender are all factors which play a strong role in determining your path, and should be taken very seriously when planning where you’re going to go and what you’re going to do, but they’re not excuses as to why you’re not doing as well as someone else. Stop comparing yourself to others, stop blindly following the advice of those who are coming from different circumstances, and start figuring out how to use your own potential to its maximum, in spaces where it will be appreciated and rewarded for what it is.

[ohforficsakelibrary]

You Brought Me Poison Flowers

Chapter 2: Yarrow - It draws the attention of those you most want to see.

prev / series masterlist / masterlist

Series Summary: Joel and Ellie settle into life in Jackson, one more easily than the other, until Joel is reminded of what normal feels like. The kind of normal that he perhaps never had. A series of one-shot glimpses into a relationship (no true plot here, people.) Soft!Joel. Two touch-starved babes. Slow-ish burn.

Chapter subtitles taken from Cunningham’s Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs by Scott Cunningham. Although herbal preparations are consistent with historic uses, nothing herein is to be construed as medical advice.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Herbalist!OFC (age-appropriate age gap)

Word Count: ~4.1K

Rating: Eventually explicit 18+ / Minors DNI.

A/N: Joel fucks up a plant ID. Lennie feels him up and has him hang out for three.

Thanks very much to everyone who read and left some love on the first chapter of this little adventure. I honestly love these two, and I hope you all will come to as well.

Lennie’s processing comfrey for drying when Joel returns a week later. The shop is empty this time, he figures probably because they’re serving lunch down at the Mess Hall. 

“Hey, Lennie,” he glances over at where she’s splitting stalks, “I brought you yarrow.” 

Lennie casts her eyes up momentarily and the sight of him very nearly makes her cackle. 

He’s freshly washed, having just returned from a morning patrol shift, silvered hair raked wet off of his face. Brow knitted. Mouth frozen in that scowl that he never quite realizes is perpetually plastered to his face. But he’s got a massive bouquet of white flowers clutched to his chest.

And not a moment after she looks away her eyes cut back to him. 

The comfrey is hastily abandoned. 

“Yeah, just, go ahead and lay that down on the table there.” Joel obliges as she wipes her hands on the edge of her apron and quickly swings around the bar. “How long ago did you pick those?” 

“Uh, dunno, an hour, hour and a half maybe, sorry, I know they wilted a bit…”

She considers his face carefully before glancing at up the clock that hangs above the door as she closes the distance between them. “Did you eat lunch before or after you picked those?” 

“Haven’t eaten lunch yet.” Suddenly she’s in his space, toe to toe. Immediately his back goes rigid.

“Ok, good,” she starts calmly before grabbing his face in her hands to hold him in place, staring intently into big brown eyes that have flown wide.

And now he’s been struck stupid.

“And you didn’t eat any part of those plants?”

“What? No.” 

Her hands are quick yet determined as she lays the back of one across his forehead for a moment. He’d daresay he’s amused. 

Bringing a woman flowers seems to go much farther these days.

“Open your mouth.” It’s a command. He does and she stands on tiptoes.

He finds himself enough to very nearly reach up to stop her the second she thumbs his bottom lip to get a better look. 

And he would have. If he wasn’t starved. 

The kind of hungry you don’t realize until the scent of food wafts in on a breeze. 

“Did you happen to touch your face at all after you picked them? Rub your eyes, your nose, touch your mouth?” 

“Uh, no? I dunno.”

“Are your eyes burning? Numb?”

“No.”

“Nose?”

“No.”

“Mouth?”

Yes.

“No.”

“Shortness of breath?” Her left hand is on his neck now, eyes on the clock, fingers gently applying pressure and readjusting until she finds his pulse and he swallows hard.

You mean not from this? What even is this?

His mouth drops open and “no” falls out. In response to her question, nothing else.

Christ, Miller. Like a fuckin sixteen year old.

“Sorry, what are you…” He finally finds his words, but she makes a soft noise to shush him. 

A few seconds later “good” comes out on a breath that’s meant more for herself than for him.

“Do you feel nauseous?” Her small hands take both of his by wrists she can’t fully encircle, carefully poring over his palms.

“No.” 

"And you haven't thrown up."

"No."

“Headache?”

“No.”

The backs of his hands fall under her scrutiny before she carefully examines his fingers.

“Sorry, may I?” She points at his chest and then at her ear. He nods before the thought finishes processing and in an instant she’s popped another button on his flannel and pressed her ear against his naked heart. 

“You feel dizzy?” Her head is still on his chest and he realizes that his hands are poised in space, hovering just above her shoulders. 

Yup.

“No.” 

“You’re more than likely going to be fine.”

The fuck does that mean. Good sense is back.

“Lennie, what is going on.” He takes a step, hands held up before his chest in surrender. “Is this from that plant? You didn’t tell me yarrow was dangerous.”

“It’s not,” she finally vacates his space but instead of relief he registers loss of warmth. 

“It’s actually incredibly safe outside of pregnancy and it’s one of the few things I can freely recommend for children, but you didn’t bring me yarrow.” She’s over at her bookshelf now, scanning quickly before slipping a text out of line. 

“You brought me poison hemlock.” 

Means you’re a fuckin’ idiot.

He glances down at the flowers. “What.”

“Poison hemlock,” she returns to him and perches on the edge of the table, feet on the bench. “Of Socrates fame. Take a seat.” He obeys her, mostly because he’s in a daze. “Hey, look at me.” He does. “It’s actually an incredibly honest mistake. You got any plans in the next three?”

“What the fuck Lennie, did I just…” big brown eyes are wide and he goes to scrub a hand down his face.

“Don’t touch your face,” she’s fast and grabs his elbow before he can make contact. “And no, you didn’t.” She stops meets his stare. “You’re more than likely going to be fine.”

“More than likely,” he nearly mocks, “how the fuck do you know? I thought you couldn’t touch that stuff.”

I know because its my fucking job to know, don’t test me, Miller.

“That’s a myth, all but the most sensitive people won’t have a reaction to just touching it and even then it’s just contact dermatitis, it has to get into your blood to do any harm.” She lets loose his arm as her words come fast and easy. “You didn’t eat it, so we’re good there, and you don’t have any fresh cuts on your hands, but you’re not sure if you touched your nose, mouth, or eyes, so that’s an open question.” She’s gone back to flipping pages, searching for something as she rattles this off. “Your pulse is strong, pupils a normal size, your heart is in normal rhythm, body temperature seems normal if a little warm, but we’re…”

“I run warm.” He’s not sure why he feels the need to clarify in this moment of all things.

“…concerned about cold here.” She finishes simultaneously. “You’re not sweating or salivating, no dizziness, nausea, or vomiting, no tremors, and finally, here we go.”

She appears to have found what she’s looking for.

“You’re staying here for the next three hours though.”

Ah. A finally a fuckin’ unit.

“You said I’m fine.”

“Symptoms can appear anywhere from 30 minutes to three hours after exposure.” Lennie reads out and clamps the book shut with one hand. “You haven’t touched your face since you’ve been in here, meaning the absolute last time any sap and therefore toxin could have made it into your system is right before you walked in that door. I figure give it three hours max for you to be completely in the clear.” She drops the book behind her on the table.

Somehow, he actually does follow her math. 

“And if I do show symptoms…I assume you have an antidote?” “There is no antidote.” Lennie leans over her knees so her face is level with his. “It works by paralyzing your neuro-musculatory junctions…”

The dazed look is back.

“Where your nerves control your muscles,” she rephrases, “and causes paralysis, which is a problem when it comes to, you know, breathing. But that’s not going to happen.”

Lennie springs from the table and moves behind the bar.

“Me not being able to breathe is not going to happen, but I have to stay here for three hours and you have no antidote.” He’s not quite yelling but he’s not calm either. 

“There is no antidote, and don’t touch YOUR FUCKING FACE,” she is though, seeing that he’s nearly gone to rub his eyes in frustration. “If you start to show any symptoms at all, I will notice, and I can get you over to Jane at the hospital sooner rather than later. She can treat the symptoms until it processes out of your system.” She drops down, disappearing for an instant before popping back up and dropping a pair of black rubber gloves on the bar top. 

“I need your knife.” Lennie crosses the distance to stand in front of him, hand outstretched. Joel weakly reaches back for the pocket knife he used to cut the blooms. 

She tosses it on the table next to the flowers.

“Come,” Lennie takes both of his hands in hers and he allows himself to be led to the sink. He’s not in shock, not by a long shot, but he’s not all here right now either.

These past few months here in Jackson have been the first time in the last twenty years that he didn’t want to. You know. 

He has a house. His brother back. He isn’t tossing fucking bodies onto a burn pile. 

He has Ellie. 

And now here he might have actually gone and done it to himself. Finally.

Unless he missed again.

The water runs cool and then warm against his skin before Lennie soaps up her own hands and massages the suds into his skin, idly taking note that his hands are massive. Strong square palms and thick fingers. 

Earth hands. 

She continues in silence for a full minute before reaching for a nail brush. It takes him another minute of her scrubbing before he speaks.

“I know how to wash my hands, Lennie.”

“Well, that’s good,” she guides them under the water until they run clean and then some. “Your face now.”

Joel looks down at her with an expression she doesn’t bother to unpack. Instead she holds the bar of soap up between them and he takes it. 

“Wash everything around your eyes and mouth first, keep ‘em shut tight.” Lennie calls over her shoulder as she heads back to the bar top. “Rinse for 30, repeat that once, and then gently take the soap over your eyes and mouth. Scrub that beard. And your neck too.”  

She slips the rubber gloves on and grabs the Reaper’s bouquet that’s resting on the table. “Keep going till I get back,” she calls, passing him on her way through the door to the left. He hears the creaking of something heavy and the click of a screen door and two full wash cycles later hears the sequence in reverse.

“You should be good now,” moments later a gentle hand rests on his back and a washcloth is pressed into his palm before she turns the water off. Joel dries his face first, then his hands and finally opens his eyes as he steps back from the sink. All he can manage right now is to slump down at the table. Face in his hands.

Behind him, Lennie is at the bar, pouring soap into a metal bowl. She fills it with hot water and drops it off near him, slipping the rubber gloves on again. She washes the table carefully, starting with areas she knows are clean, before moving in to where he was sitting before, anywhere he could have touched with sap-sticky hands. She’s so thorough that she wipes the cover of whatever text she was flipping through too.

Joel watches her while she works.

He’s not really sure what else to do.

Faded jeans are rolled up at the cuffs and at some point she had taken off her sweatshirt. Underneath she’s wearing a yellow t-shirt upon which Smokey the Bear urges him to help prevent forest fires.

What if you are a fucking forest fire?

He doesn’t know how he hadn’t noticed before but her left arm is adorned in a black and grey sleeve of foliage and bones. 

She has the arms of someone used to throwing heavy stuff around all day. He likes that about her.

What a fucking thought process. 

He’s hungry and delusional from nearly having poisoned himself, he figures. Or potentially having lightly poisoned himself.

“Elbows up,” she says gently from across heavy oak. She’s quick with the cloth and allows him to get back to sulking in no time at all.

Lennie spends at least five minutes on the spot where the flowers were before his knife is flipped open and dropped into the soapy water. She’s careful to clean that spot too. She takes the whole bowl to the sink and deposits it into the basin to soak before dropping the rubber gloves into the bowl too. Lennie then moves to the front of the shop, flips the “Open” sign to “Closed” and pulls dark blue curtains over the front windows. 

“Alright,” she turns around, resting her hands on her hips before pointing at him. He has no idea what she means, but knows it wasn’t meant for him. The kettle is filled and placed on the hot plate and she disappears again, this time through a door to the right, returning in five with a fork and a plate of thickly sliced ham, cheese, bread, and salad greens dressed lightly in oil. 

“Sorry it’s not very cohesive, but it’s the quickest thing I have.”

“It’s fine,” Joel tears into the ham, honey-sweetness on his tongue reminding him of his manners. 

“Thank you.” 

Ten minutes later there’s weird coffee in front of him and he could not be more grateful. She finally comes to rest opposite him with her own cup, and rakes a hand through her hair as he shoves a bite of crumbly bread into his mouth.

“I’m sorry for all of this,” he says as he swallows.

“Don’t apologize, Joel. It’s an honest mistake. And I probably should have made it more clear.”

A few moments pass in silence before he mumbles, “a thousand leaves.”

“What’s that?” 

“You said the leaves were the key. Soft and lacy. Thousand leaves.” He downs the last bite of greens, staring idly at a knot in the wood. “The leaves were different, that thing had carrot leaves.”

“It’s a member of the same family, yeah. Which is actually how most poisonings happen,” she takes another sip from her mug and rests a cheek in her hand. “Good observation.”

“What did you do with them?” He asks between bites of cheese.

“They’re in a lock box out back until I can process them.”

“Process?”

“Even poison plants have their uses.”

He’s curious but not ready to know.

“So what now?” He finally meets her eyes.

“Well, when you’re finished there I’m going to check you again for symptoms, and I’ll keep doing that every thirty until we’re clear.”

“And what do you want me to do?”

“Whatever you want Joel.” She stands and makes her way back to the bar. “You can read a book, tell me your life story, take a nap, sit there and scowl.”

At this, he throws a scowl back over his shoulder at her.

And for the first time today she grins. 

She runs through her checks again after he’s through, and much to her surprise, he opts to help her finish processing the comfrey, portioning and binding bundles for drying. After that he pulls a book from the shelf and takes a seat at the table facing her as she sets to work straining tinctures.

Lennie smirks when she sees what he’s chosen. The Third Policeman by Flann O’Brien.

_____

They continue like this, in silence save for the clinking of mason jars and the metallic scrape of lids, speaking only for her to run her checks. 

And yet discomfort remains at bay.

She catches him occasionally, dark eyes angled at her up over Flann’s pages. She can’t see his mouth but from the knit of his brow she knows the scowl is there. He doesn’t dwell long each time, but each time he dwells longer than the last. 

He likes how she looks with her wild curls pulled back. Likes the rebellion of the errant ones at the nape of her neck. She isn’t a frail thing, whether from conscious nurturing of strength or what life has seen fit to deal. And yet the promise of softness in all the right places shows through baggy denim. Under the yellow cotton of her shirt. That gold against tawny skin. He clears his throat and shifts in his seat. 

A sip of water helps.

Lennie isn’t innocent here. She’s just sneakier. His hair has dried by now, accentuating the silver streaks in ashen brown. The way his massive hands make the novel look small. It’s impossible not to notice the way brown and red flannel clings to his shoulders, stretching around his biceps when he brings the glass of water to his lips. 

Those lips. Far more plush than they have any right to be. 

Man walks in with big hands and broad shoulders and you’re fuckin’ nineteen again.

Just the hands will do these days, apparently.

She takes it out on chicory root with a cleaver.

_____

About ten minutes after a third round of checks Joel pipes up again.

“Hey uh, you got a bathroom?” His bladder is protesting the coffee. Tea. Whatever the fuck that thing is, and the glass of water that she’s been keeping full for him.

Lennie is a good host even in a shit situation.

“Yup,” he watches as she looks up from where she’s splitting roots of god knows what and points her cleaver at the woodstove in the corner. “Left and then another left.”

He follows her instructions, seeing that there’s a mudroom to the right after the first left. He can’t help but take quick stock. A door to the back garden. Jackets for all seasons hung on cast iron hooks. An array of practical shoes lined up neatly in a tray. He idly notices the pair of rain boots far larger than its companions before he slips into the tiny wood-paneled bathroom.

“Soap you’ve got in there smells nice.” This when he returns.

She smirks as he walks back in, amused that this broad, rugged thing likes scented soap.

“Oh so it does know how to wash its hands.” She grins up at him before answering in earnest. “Thanks. Think I’ve got…ponderosa? In there?” She reaches out a hand.

It takes him a moment to realize she’s asking for his hand to confirm. He obliges, and a corner of his mouth twitches in amusement when she takes a quick whiff.

“Ponderosa. You want a bar? Give me a sec.”

She wipes her hands on her apron and turns behind her where small wooden crates are stacked nearest the window. She shuffles through a few boxes before selecting a bar for him.

“I don’t have anything to trade.”

“What are you talking about, you brought me poison flowers. Those are my favorite.” She returns to her chopping with a smile.

He very nearly laughs. Instead, he returns to his seat and his book, absently pressing the bar of soap to his nose as he reads. 

It’s funny how when everything went away, smells went with them. The good ones at least. Replaced with decay and dry rot. Gunpowder and shitty whiskey. Burning bodies. You stop paying attention. 

To register is to be repulsed.

It apparently takes scented soap to make you want to inhale again. Warm vanilla without sticky sweetness. Earth. Barely there lavender.

“How’d you do this?”

“Uhm,” she takes a moment to simplify down to component parts. “Soap is some kind of fat and a base. A few years ago I started using whatever was left over from the prior year’s infused oils and tallow as the fat and some janky steam distilling equipment to eek out a bit of essential oil from fresh plants to boost the scent. It takes a lot of material and it’s not a particularly productive process but I figure everyone deserves a little frivolity. Something normal like before.”

“But there’s benefit to the plants being in there?” He still has the bar idly pressed up under his nose in a way that makes something jump in the pit of Lennie's stomach.

“Great question, there’s more benefit to the infused fat than the essential oil, but the essential oils carry the smell.”

“Hmm.”

Is he learning?

He finally pops the bar into the front pocket of his flannel.

Thank god flits across her mind.

The way that pleasure registered on his face every time he took a whiff didn’t go unnoticed.

It sets something long-dormant to churning.

Twenty minutes later he says, “I think it’s time for you to feel me up again.”

She snorts and glances at the clock seeing that it is indeed.

Paying attention and learning. What a guy.

“If I didn’t know better I’d say you’re beginning to enjoy this, Joel.”

She washes her hands and he stands up, smoothing the front of his shirt for a reason he can’t explain.

“Any shortness of breath?” Lennie starts, taking his face in her hands, studying his eyes in the late afternoon light. She can see easily that his pupils are a completely normal size, but now she notes softness in the brown. A subtle shade of gratitude.

She doesn’t bother with his mouth this time, leaving lips to tingle in unfulfilled anticipation.

She sees something flit across his eyes for a moment but doesn’t dwell. Instead, her fingers brush over his stubble to fit under his jaw. She’s learned by now that his pulse jumps just behind the bare patches in his beard. A handy shortcut that a part of her perhaps didn’t actually ask for.

Lennie breaks his stare to hold the clock’s gaze, and for a few seconds, Joel takes the opportunity to really look at her. He had noticed a round ago that her brown eyes are flecked with gold. But he can’t for his life figure out how old she is. Long strands of aggregated silver curl from her widow’s peak and temples. Faint lines in the corners of her eyes belie that perhaps at least she was able to find some joy in this hell.

Her mouth was impossible not to notice, but up close it strikes him that her lips aren’t chapped. They look—soft.

Soft? An adjective that fell to the wayside.

“Alright, good,” she breaks his reverie. “A little faster, but still within a completely normal range.” She steps back instead of leaning in.

“You’re not gonna listen?” He points loosely at his chest.

“Do feel out of breath?”

Gasping.

“No.”

“Like it’s skipping?”

Fuckin hopscotch.

“No.”

“Racing?”

A mile a minute.

“No.”

“Do you want me to?”

He takes too long to answer and she takes it as a “no.”

She returns to the bar top and her roots and Joel sits back down and finds his last-read page.

_____

The next thing he remembers is the hand resting lightly on his shoulder.

“Joel?”

“Yeah?” He sniffs as his eyes pop open. The shop is filled with pink light.

“You’re free to go.”

“It’s three hours?”

“It’s a little over four, but you looked like you could use the rest. You’ve been asleep for about two. It’s getting to dinner time and I figured Ellie would be looking for you.”

He scrubs his eyes with the heels of his palms before lightly scratching his beard.

“You didn’t wake me up to check.”

“I checked your breathing every fifteen until you started snoring, so I just listened for any change.” She slips him a scrap of paper on which is scribbled a few time entries and numbers next to them ranging from twelve to fourteen.

“Every fifteen?”

He lets it go without units.

“Well, you weren’t awake to tell me if anything started feeling off.”

“You really do care," he snarks.

“I mean, I try.” Lennie smiles and rakes a hand through curls that she’s freed from the scrap of fabric she had tied them with.

He stares at her for a second, hair wild from what she’s just done. Her sweatshirt is on again and she’s got her hands stuffed in the back pockets of her jeans.

“Yeah. Yeah, I should head out.” Not because of the time, though. He stands and tentatively stretches his back. “Can I borrow this?” Joel asks, holding the book up.

“Yeah, of course.”

“You comin’ to Mess?” He slips his clean knife into his back pocket.

“I’ve actually got some leftovers from a rabbit I trapped the other day, so.”

“Yeah. Yeah ok,” Joel starts for the door and turns back. “Hey, thank you, Lennie. For today.”

He sticks out his hand again and it makes her want to scream.

He does that. His reserve. Makes her want to scream.

“Yeah, of course,” she gives it a firm shake instead. “Anytime you uh, feel like you’re dying. Hit me up.” She grins. 

He returns it. With teeth.

“Have a good night, Joel.”

“Goodnight, Lennie.”

She latches the door behind him and presses her back against it before sliding down to the floor.

Heavy breath hisses from her lungs.

“Not what I needed.”

Exactly what she needed.

“Fuck.”

next

Old chapters are hosted on the OFFS Library page. New chapters will be posted to Ohforficsake - follow me over there for future updates.

Shoot me a message @ohforficsake or comment under this post if you would like to be added to the taglist for updates! Thanks so much for reading.

[veinsfullofstars]

hey just wondering, how do you draw daroach? i wanna figure him out for myself but dont feel like i get down how he looks well enough. thanks for the help if you have any, if not then thanks for just answering

Thank you for the question! And, yeah, I totally get it - that rat can be a nightmare to draw sometimes, haha. I definitely struggled with him a lot at first (you can kinda tell if you compare my earlier works to my recent ones). I think it’s because so much of him is obscured by his outfit in official art? The way the brim of his hat dips over his face or how his cape likes to defy physics - all in service of a cooler silhouette, sure, but taking away a lot of readability and foundation to work from in the process. I’ll try to offer some tips that work for me (though I’m hardly an expert on this, and teaching's not exactly my strong suit, so please bear with me if things get muddled, haha).

The main piece of advice I can give is gather and study as much reference as you can. Official art, concept art, promotional stuff, sprite sheets - whatever you can find, just grab ‘em and put ‘em somewhere you can easily pull up when you’re drawing. I get most of mine from Wikirby, Spriter’s Resource, and official sites like the Kirby JP Twitter, as well as screenshots taken directly from the games (a great way to get in-motion poses and back views, I’ve found). Here’s what my ref sheet for Daroach looks like (I also have a separate one for color swatches):

Kind of a mess, yeah, but very worth it, I assure you. The more visuals you have to work off of, the easier it will be to detect consistencies in design. Which brings me to my next point: shapes!

Most Kirby characters are, at their core, just a buncha simple shapes. It can be hard to tell sometimes when they wear clothes (like with our rat buddy here), but they still have similar foundations of circles and other rounded features. A way I've found that helps with this is to try redlining (that is, take a piece of reference and trace over it for the purpose of study, learning where lines connect, how silhouettes look, how different parts overlap, what shapes are used, etc.). Here’s an example:

This is a great way to find those design consistencies I mentioned before. I did these a bit messy for a better sense of movement (and ‘cause I’m practiced enough to sketch a little quicker), but you can always start slower and cleaner if it helps you see the shapes and layers more clearly. You can even do them multiple times to familiarize yourself with the design and eventually try copying them without tracing, like doing gesture drawings or life studies.

In Daroach, I’ve found that his head isn’t a perfect circle shape, but more like a rounded diamond, with his ears connecting at or just above the “points” on the sides. His body is a bit smaller than his head, and his snout smaller still, each having sort of a teardrop-like shape. His eyes are bigger than I expected them to be, half circles tilted down slightly, often cut off by his snout and hat to create a shaper angle (meant to make him look more intimidating perhaps?). His ears are taller than his hat, though they can tilt back to look shorter. There are also a lot of arcs and triangles present in his design, especially in his cape when it sits across his form or flares out, and the brim of his hat pointing down from just past his ears to right over his snout. Also, unlike many Kirby characters, he does in fact have a neck - it's just hidden behind his collar and bell most of the time (don't ask me why I spent so long verifying this, no I don't have ulterior motives, don't look at me).

Of course, these observations aren’t set in stone. Kirby characters rarely stay perfectly on-model (see Dedede for proof of that), and Daroach is clearly no exception. I mean, just look at these official pieces (all collected from Wikirby):

Even the folks at HAL Labs are not immune to style inconsistency. And that’s not a bad thing! We love a little personal flair in this house. There’s nothing wrong with altering the design a bit to fit your own style - in fact, it’ll probably happen naturally the more you practice, especially once you’re comfortable enough to work without a guide. Here’s some studies I did recently, no tracing, just observation (with different colors used to help me figure out layering):

I’ve seen other folks take their own designs even further than this, adding more fur or sharper shapes or even realistic rat features to our favorite thief. Nothing like stretching those creative muscles once you’ve got the basics down! On that note, don’t be afraid to be inspired by unofficial sources as well. If an artist you like draws Daroach (or any character) in a way you find appealing, ask yourself what it is you like about it, study it as you study official works, and find ways to incorporate elements of that into your own art - “steal like an artist” as the saying goes.

Another thing I recommend for Daroach specifically is studying how real top hats and capes look, especially from various angles and poses in motion. I find it helps to see exactly how fabric sits on a figure or what sides show at different positions. It might seem weird to use human reference for a cartoon rat, and it might take some finagling to get proportions right, but it’s surprisingly effective. I do this with fighting and athletic poses all the time to help figure out weight distribution and line of action. Don’t be afraid to expand your art repertoire into other fields - you never know when it might come in handy!

And, of course, the key thing to hammer home here is practice, practice, practice! Do studies, do gestures, draw with and without references, build muscle memory, do sketches you show to no one, draw memes, draw angst, take your time, fill pages with messy doodles or just drop one in a corner and call it a day. The more you draw this smarmy rat, the better you’ll get. That’s the long and short of it with any skill, creative or otherwise. You gotta try in order to get good, you gotta make mistakes in order to improve, you gotta be kind to yourself in order to do what you love.

Anyway, I think that’s all I got for now. Forgive me if this got a bit rambly or incoherent - I have trouble putting my thought process in words sometimes, haha. I sincerely hope this helps, and I wish you the best of luck with your own future rat-creating endeavors!

Sketch started and finished 06/14/24.

[drsteggy]

Work in Progress Wednesday

So this isn’t REALLY a WIP, it was more an exercise in writing a scene from a different perspective. This is a later scene from Farore, but from Impa’s perspective. I guess it is technically a little spoilery but whatever. I wanted to share something today so here it is

Impa does not think she will ever really get used to the cold of the Hebra region. The clouded sky seems to close in on the party making its way north, and the entire camp is in a tight circle around the fire. She clutches a tin cup of tea, enjoying the heat of the brew in her hands. The fire dances and pops, drawing her in.

And then Link is next to her. He pulls his wool cloak close to his throat.

“Hey I didn’t see much of you today, how did the ride go?” He fiddles with his gloves, not looking at her yet. He clearly has something on his mind, but he is going to need to come around to things on his own.

“Pretty well. The horse they have me on has a mind of his own, though, and ignores me.”

He turns to her, always ready to talk about horses. “I can teach you some things to get around that. Might be useful if he decides to bolt someday.”

She lets him ramble a bit, watching him relax as he goes on about leg and seat, nodding as he offers advice. When he is done, he turns back to the fire and straightens up.

Here it comes, she thinks. The real reason he came over here.

“Impa.. do you sleep, ever?”

******

She arrives at his tent an hour later. He greets her with a smile and a remarkably tense posture. “You’re sure this is okay?” He asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

She wonders if he gets this wound up every time he has a sleepover with someone.

“Of course.” She smiles, keeping her voice open and friendly. “You do still want me to stay?”

He meets her eyes. She notes the clench of his jaw and the quickness of his breath. Finally, he gives a sharp nod. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

“Great, let’s get settled.”

Link’s tent is really just meant for one. Impa crawls in and wraps herself in the blanket she brought with her. She pats the space next to her, inviting him in.

“Snug. It’s going to be cozy, but there’s room.”

He hesitates and for a moment she thinks he might call things off. Then he joins her, settling in inches from her. She can smell the horse on him, and a note of sweat.

“I’m not trying to do anything improper.” He says, his voice soft.

“I know. I trust you.” She assures him. “You’re not my type anyway.”

“What?” He sounds a little surprised.

She laughs. “Has no one ever said that to you before? I’m not attracted to you. I like women.”

“Oh.”

She laughs again. “That can't be a new idea for you, you were in Gerudo how long? I know that guard -Tasako? you were involved with…”

He squirms. “Has a female partner, yes, we are acquainted. They got married.”

“Why don’t you try and get some sleep? You might feel more comfortable with your back against mine.”

She rolls to her other side, resting her head on her arm. She can feel his breath on the back of her neck before he shifts and leans his back against hers. Hopefully he will sleep peacefully tonight.

“I kissed a man once.” His voice floats out of the darkness. “Like, a real kiss.”

Impa feels a small blossom of surprise, but keeps herself still. “Is this something you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. It’s something to talk about and it isn’t all, you know.”

So he can’t sleep, or he isn’t ready to. “If you want to tell me, I’d like to hear.”

“I only ever told Tasako before.” His words come slowly, as though he is now weighing them. “I mean, I was just trying everything when I first got to Castletown. I’d never been on my own like that.”

“He was in my cohort. His name was Shad. We hung out a lot and did dumb teenager stuff. Like we used to take horses and race and jump over stupid things.” She can hear the smile in his voice now. So this is a good memory.

When Link had first taken the sword, she had found a Shad, who had reportedly been his friend. That man had been very closed lipped, though, refusing to say more than he’d been acquainted but hadn’t so much as thought about Link in years. Impa had given up, thinking it a dead end.

This has to be the same guy. “The stable master never caught you?”

“Oh, he caught us,” Link chuckles. “Yeah, we cleaned a lot of stalls over that.”

Link continues on, telling a story about a summer friendship that had sparks. He spins it slowly, but if he takes his time because he is remembering something with fondness or there’s a different reason, she can’t quite tell.

“We went swimming one day and it just turned into being rowdy and wrestling and stuff and then he stopped and asked if he could tell me something and I just said sure.”

“What did he tell you?”

“He said he really wanted to kiss me.”

“And…?” Even Impa can hear the anticipation in her voice. She hopes he kissed Shad. She hopes he did it a lot.

Link shrugs against her back. “I had kissed a few girls and I really liked that. A lot. So I said ok.”

“You’re killing me. Was it good? Did you like it?”

Link huffs. “It was his first kiss, I’m pretty sure, so it was just okay. I did like it.”

“What happened to Shad?”

“I don’t know, we were pretty young, we drifted when summer ended.” He pauses, sighing before continuing on. “Training got more intense. He started to hang out with others. I got involved with a woman who saw me as a toy though I didn’t understand that then. I went to Gerudo, I ended up here.”

They are both quiet. Impa is still learning the edges and depths to Link, and tonight she feels she might be in a little further than he intended. His stillness feels unsettled. Maybe ashamed.

He shouldn’t feel that way about that story.

“Link? It’s okay if you decided it wasn’t for you. It’s okay if you liked it. It’s okay if you’re still not sure how you feel.”

He doesn’t answer her but presses his back against hers more firmly.

He does finally slip off to sleep. She keeps a quiet watch, meditating on the day and what’s ahead.

When he bolts up with a strangled sound in his throat, she turns and throws an arm across his chest. His heart gallops in his chest as she whispers to him that’s it’s okay, everything is okay. He slumps back to his bedding and she moves her hand to his shoulder.

“That was something,” she whispers. “Is that every night?”

He shakes his head “Just recently,” he crosses his arms. “It’s not even anything specific. It’s just...it’s like just feelings. There’s no images or action, it isn’t really a dream.

“I think they come from outside of me.”

“A message, maybe.”

“Something like that.”

They lay together, silent, Impa running her thumb back and forth over his shoulder. She will do this as long as he needs her to. Eventually the tension in his body melts away and he settles into her.

“Impa, thank you for staying with me. This is definitely better.”

“You’re welcome.”

[faresong]

I haven't played YTTS yet, is it okay to ask what those lines from YTTS are and the implications?

(in regard to this piece)

of course! however, I will preface this with the fact that 1) nankidai is homophobic, or is at least playing into a homophobic stereotype with little other gay representation to off-set it; and 2) I tend to overthink things. while this may not have been something he intended to be taken seriously, considering this is one of the only pieces we have on kugie's lore/character (& you only discover it when playing as mishima) I am inclined to incorporate it as a part of their histories when I am digging into their characters!

additionally, I understand why most people are reluctant to include this in their own interpretations and instead discard this information. it is a very serious topic that should be handled carefully, and I honestly wouldn't want people to handle it at all if they find it uncomfortable or intend to make light of it as nankidai has.

cw: discussion of pedophilia/grooming, and the abuse that comes with that.

Mishima's events with Kanna are primarily focused on what it means to become an adult, wherein you can finally make your own choices. Part of this, as the professor cites, is independence — but not just anything... it is to handle your independence with maturity, which can only be gained through experience (inevitably, meaning there must be "wrong paths" made along the way).

MISHIMA: Of course, that includes mental independence. The ability to decide the right course for oneself... That's what makes one an adult. KANNA: Umm... That's hard... MISHIMA: Experience is necessary. For common sense depends on the time and place. KANNA: Then... Kanna can't become an adult yet... MISHIMA: Don't think of that as such a bad thing.

Kanna's primary motivator to mature quickly is to help the adults around her, instead of having to be cared for, and particularly to not be overshadowed by Kugie's new partner. When she asks for advice, this is what Mishima provides her:

KANNA: Kanna wants to keep walking home with her sister! She doesn't want to spend every day just watching a stranger walk home with her! Kanna's such a kid... She can't wish for her own sister's happiness... MISHIMA: I understand how you'd feel lonely. That goes to show how much you love your sister... KANNA: But... I know it would probably be better if I told her it's fine... MISHIMA: Perhaps so. As long as you don't feel that she's getting involved with a bad person, then... Yes, I'd think you should respect your sister's decision. KANNA: Yes... Yeah, you're right. As far as I could see... She was a kind, mature woman. Yeah, I should respect my sister's decision... I've made up my mind! Thank you so much, Professor Mishima! MISHIMA: ...I-I suppose that went well. I'm sure gender is no great issue these days... Still... it may have been wise to question her a bit more before giving advice.

Calling Kugie's partner "mature" in English is a... generous translation. As other people have pointed out, it was meant to be a two-hit joke—whiplash of Kugie not only pursuing a woman, but an adult woman.

While you see that Mishima is attempting to assure himself there's nothing more to be done, he hesitates in doing so & gets after himself for not digging deeper before letting Kanna resolve herself on this answer. Now this is enough on its own, but I'd like to draw attention to a few of his later lines specifically meant to discourage baseless trust in adults.

MISHIMA: Children can bring about something adults can't. KANNA: Huh?! What's that...?! MISHIMA: Harmony. In a world of only adults... People are prone to thinking of their own gain. But when there are children, even the adults will work harder than usual to be virtuous.

(Selfishness.)

KANNA: Then... Kanna can't become an adult yet... MISHIMA: Don't think of that as such a bad thing.

(& reiterating this line ^)

KANNA: Eheheh... But... even still, Kanna wants to grow up at least a little bit sooner. MISHIMA: Hrm... How troubling. KANNA: She at least wants to know more about adults! Things like… adult love…!

(& Mishima sees here that Kanna may pursue the same path she saw her sister take (along with being a bit of a romantic herself, much more openly loving than her sister is shown to be), which is clearly unsettling for him as he goes on to deflect her questioning. Unfortunately, this is given no real resolution because Nankidai favors humor in his work (not terrible in itself, but for serious subjects...). But, textually, there's something to be said about Kugie herself not taking it seriously, such that Kanna doesn't fully understand why Mishima's trying to dissuade her from taking this to heart. It'd be a jarring event to have, sure, but in my opinion it'd be very necessary to follow this through with proper acknowledgement.)

In any case, with Kanna, you see the implications of Mishima's own path toward adulthood throughout.

We're already aware that Mishima had gone through a rough period of his life after having initially failed college exams, during which he was a delinquent (as he admits to Gin) and was generally a harsh person (in the same scene with Nao). His perception of "mature independence" including knowledge of the right course to take is something that many younger people will simply not know. On the path to adulthood, they will make mistakes in "a world of only adults" that they aren't yet well-versed in.

Alongside [(petty) crime that Kazumi was briefly involved in], this of course applies for Kugie's situation. Even if she's aware she's being used, she likely won't pay it much mind as long as it gives her a platform where she feels validated for it. The mature woman in question would only have selfish intentions to initiate something with Kugie, but as long as it feels as if Kugie's actually being considered, and it's not impairing Kanna (who relies on her), she will allow it. We've seen her previous conflicts with her parents when they'd brought in Kanna, and there's presumably something deeper there about them not trusting her judgement; however, she trusts Kanna now that they understand each other (& Kugie saw she was treating Kanna with the same flippancy her parents did, which she realizes and regrets), hence why she seeks Kanna's validation instead of her parents before committing to this relationship fully.

Considering the majority of advice Mishima gives tends to be from his own experience... I am inclined to seeing this strike closer than Mishima lets on, especially with how he describes himself as 'conceited' in hindsight, as though he was too vain to see he had judged [someone who supported him] wrongly. It could just be a lesson learned in regard to his "hoodlum days," but regardless... it's just an interesting tidbit to me. They've both had an elevated sense of self, and I just wonder if it's through having someone of higher power give them a taste of what they could have if they play along with their terrible game; feigning adulthood before they were ready under flattery of their maturity, when it was in fact their inexperience that led them blindly down this path.

[thecameronchronicles]

Snow Day Scrabble

TW: Semi-public Teasing. Smut. Language. 

SUMMARY: Your secret relationship with Pope is at risk of exposure during a game of Scrabble that turns smutty. 

WORD COUNT: 1300

*ORIGINAL CONCEPT*

Snow Day Scrabble

Nobody knew and nobody had to. It kept things simplistic and without the consistent tasing you’d come to expect from JJ, the skepticism from Kie, and the parental and unsolicited advice from John B. But you couldn’t help yourself from flirting with Pope in every possible way you could. Usually this consisted of a few locked gazes from across the room or popsicles taken to remind him of a gag reflex he trained well. But now you found yourselves among the pogues, having collectively ditched a day in the middle of winter for the sake of needing a break from the expectancy of academic and social perfection, and all your focus had been on the game of Scrabble to which you were currently losing. 

So you decided to make things interesting. 

Looking at the set of seven tiles set before you, you found a multitude of words you could use for those already applied on the board. And yet, only one would warrant the reaction you wanted from him. His eyes followed you as you drew the ‘S’, double ‘E’s, and T along the word “Windowsill” having been set at his earlier turn, until you eventually meant to spell out ‘sweet. And yet, you would move each tile slowly until all he read was ‘Wet’. His brow cocked as his lips spread into a smirk before he looked over his shoulder at your shared friends. 

Unable to mimic the same tease, he would clench his jaw as you would do it again. Only now, with the word flower. Using the ‘F’, you would begin to spell out ‘firetruck’, but watched his eyes widen as you set only the other three letters to spell out the vulgar act you wanted from him. The second the ‘U’, ‘C’, and ‘K’ were finalized on the board, his jaw clenched and his focus remained on you. It no longer mattered about the points for what would usually be bragging rights between the two of you. There was more on the line in this instance as you used an ‘M’ and an ‘E’ while he now pulled a ‘N’, ‘O’, and finally a ‘W’, before you rose to your feet. 

Lingering in the corridor between the back bedroom and bathroom of The Chateau, you lingered in the doorway, pulling your shirt from over your head, before setting it behind you as he fumbled with the chair before following at your silent invitation. 

“Do I need to spell it out for you, Pope?” You teased, sitting on the edge of the bed as he moved to you, hands on your hips, before he taunted your lips before pulling back at the final moment that would have allowed them the collision you both desired all day. 

“You won’t be able to spell anything by the time I’m done with you…”

“Oh really?”

“Not even your own name.” You were lifted onto the bed by a single hand under your thigh to pull you around him before you were taken to the bed, his weight pinning you flat as you smirked. 

“Your little game almost got me caught, baby…”

“Oh?”

He nodded, “So now you’re gonna know the struggle…” He was at the floor, fingers yanking your pants in a single swipe, before your legs were pulled over each of his shoulders. He would not waste even a second before he made those familiar stripes of your sex, a sacred pair of lips only he knew this well, as he had you pulling your back into an arch as you fisted the sheets at your back for some semblance of an outlet for the need to moan. 

“Not so easy is it baby? Think you can still spell now?”

“F-U.” You teased as he scoffed. 

“Not yet.” He winked before moving back to your sex, drawing you further to the edge of the bed. 

“I’ll give you an easy one…Spell how you want me to make you come.”

“I don’t care-”

“I want you to spell it for me.” You rolled your eyes. 

“B-E-H-I-N-D.” His brow raised as he took your ankles, turning you as you requested, but not removing his clothes just yet. Instead, he took his tongue against you this way as well, ensuring you were thoroughly lubricated, before he finally teased you with his cock’s head. 

“Please-”

“Spell, baby.”

“P-L-E-Oh!” You gasped at the sudden insertion of his cock. 

“Not how I remember it being spelled-” He chuckled at his own taunt against you. 

“Still cocky enough to spell through THIS?” He grunted, bottoming out as you cried out into the sheet beneath you. 

“No-”

“Surely you can spell THAT still.”

“Please, Pope…I need to feel you-”

“Faster?”

“Yes!”

“Harder?”

“Oh God, yes…” He smirked behind you. 

“Just spell one…one more and I’ll make you come so hard you won’t even be able to speak if you tried…”

“Please…”

“Spell your own name for me…My good girl taking me so fucking deep…spell that name for me…come on…” He made a mix of patronizing and praising as you struggled to remember your first letter as his fingers came to your clit. 

“Come on baby…I’ll help you…” He offered the first letter as you struggled to offer the others, your head spinning as he scoffed into your shoulder. 

“I think I’ve made my point, baby-”

“Yes…”

“Now you’re gonna come quietly for me and then we’re gonna go finish that game…”

“I can’t be quiet, Pope-you’re too…it’s too good.” He wrapped his hand around your mouth. 

“Then scream into my hand, babe…I can’t stop now…and you deserve to struggle a little bit for everyone, almost seeing the dirty things you were spelling for me.”

Meanwhile out in the Chateau, JJ lifted his eyes to the table now absent from the two of you. “Do you guys ever find it weird that they disappear like that?” JJ asked as Kiara and John B both nodded, while the curious blonde made his way to the direction of the hallway. 

“Fuck…Don’t stop…” Your choice failed to be covered as Pope’s hand ate into the sheets beside you. 

“Couldn’t if I wanted to.” He teased back. “You feel too fucking good for me,” And the sound of your name sent JJ’s mouth to part. And yet, it would be a revelation he wouldn’t let anyone else to know he held as he returned to his seat as you Pope climbed to an ungodly pace at your back. 

“So much better than scrabble…” He breathed as you chuckled. 

“I hope so…”

“But I’m still gonna beat your ass…” You turned over your shoulder, a slap making you gasp as you looked to the door as if offering a silent reminder as he would only smirk. 

“I DID mean at the game, but if you want more-”

“Pope, please…please baby…I’m so close…” You whimpered as he nodded. 

“Spell it out for me.”

“Pope…” You whined. 

“Just three letters…what you want from me.”

“C-” He thrusted and grunted at your letter announced. 

“U!” You gasped as you felt your edge summoning you closer to its spillover. 

“M!” He nodded, pounding into you from behind, making your eyes roll once feeling you both hold that effect on one another. 

“Wanna try to spell your name, now?” He teased as you hit his chest. 

“You REALLY want to finish the game? Or finish ME?” You asked while straddling him, his eyes widened. 

“You’re not done?” You shook your head. 

“I have a few words I want you to spell…” You explained, leading his fingers to your clit. 

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