#which you can see in that one sketch i did a few weeks ago of eel n shoe dancing

[the-woild-is-y-erster]

oh spots left handed in sasfmmd btw

[h00f]

T4TM (Theseus4TheMinotaur)

lost wax cast bronze, patina & paste wax

2023

(process photos & info under cut <3)

my minotaur boy!! pls click on the photos for higher res! my thesis is focusing on trans men and creatures (how original ik) and this was last semester's final. i spent a lot of time looking at sculptures of the theseus/minotaur story, and yknow? a LOT of them are erotic! i'm pretty sure i saw some of them on tumblr a decade ago, and that's led to this now!

as you'll notice, the minotaur has a big t-dick! i wanted to give him breasts and an enlarged clitoris to present a very masculine trans figure. the boy on the bottom is also trans because i say so . the piece is about looking up to older, bigger, hairier trans men and seeing something awe-inspiring and beautiful. the minotaur was locked up by a cruel father for being different, and i think modern adaptations tend towards a sympathetic asterion (his name in one version)

making this piece was. so much effort. it took me about 3 months to get it all together - from clay model (plasticine) to 3D print to silicone mold to wax cast, and finally bronze pour into the shell mold. and then a TON of filing, sanding, dremel-ing, and various other metalworking techniques that probably took years off my life.

i started with sketches and made theeeeeee ugliest model ever:

then used a 3D scanner to get it digital, then spent a goooood month or two making him pretty in blender! then i spent an agonizing few weeks trying to get it print-ready, and fiiiiiinally did

^^^ an early resin printed draft of the model - you can see in the final that i added lots to theseus after some feedback, but sadly the nosering broke off every time i cast it so i just. let that be <3

then came the moldmaking, and then the wax dipping!! the yellow stuff is shell mold (ground up ceramic bits and algae soup, sticks to the wax, then silica sand in varying sizes on top) which gets the wax melted out, and bronze poured in!

then it's all metalworking, cutting stuff off, and working with hot metal. they don't tell you about all the bronze dust and how annoying it gets wearing a respirator AND goggles. but it is for me health, me boy. here's him all cleaned up before the patina:

and then i spray him down with various chemicals to make it "patina" (aka rust) in pretty colors. wait a few days, then apply paste wax to seal it and give it that shine!

then we get what you see above!!! the blue was actually unintentional, and i'm still not super sure why it looks that way.. but it's pretty so idc <3

thanks for reading!! if you ever have any bronze/casting questions, don't hesitate to message me! <3

[dolcekissy]

tattoo galore , ღ

: ̗̀➛ rafe dating reader that has multiple tattoos and is also a tattoo artist.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ masterlist

disclaimer // 18+ content. this story includes mentions of sex, titty fucking, and yeahhh.

✎ i'm a beginner tattoo artist and love tattooing myself and people! but girl i just did a tattoo on myself and randomly thought about this. i loveee doing line work on myself, i'm working on doing a sleeve on my arm rn of butterflies and flowers and girlllll 😮‍💨. but i also love doing dope ass tattoos on people too. okay that's enough i just love sharing my love for tattooing! anyways hope you enjoy <3

─────────────────────────

rafe dating a tattoo artist would definitely consist of him getting turned on just from looking at your tattoos. you could be fresh out the shower, fresh ink barely peeking through the towel and right off the bat he wants to fuck you. he's obsessed with your naked body to begin with but your naked body filled with some sexy ass ink? whew.

me personally i love me a good tattoo down the valley of the breasts and so does rafe. rafe goes absolutely feral when you come home from your shop and he sees your tits halfway out and some fresh ink right in between them. he's already sooo obsessed with your tits and now this? are you trying to kill him?

once that tattoo is healed and all pretty again (which were the longest few weeks of his life), don't be surprised when he's fucking his dick into your breasts and watching his cum drip down it.

rafe loves watching you work. whether that be you practicing on fake skin or sketching something out or watching you do tattoos on some of your friends. one time you did a tattoo on sarah and he was amazed by how steady your hand was and how beautifully done it was.

"how do you keep your hand so steady? that line is straighter than sarah's priorities." sarah whipped her head around, threatening to get up and slap him just for you to yell at her to sit still. "girl fuck him but please! sit still!" you say trying not to laugh at his corny comment.

rafe also loves watching you work on yourself. whether it's a small tattoo or a big one he'll watch you work for hours. he's so fascinated with how you can do them on yourself, knowing it's extremely difficult to learn.

you two are sitting in your shop, him stealing a chair and sitting close enough to be able to watch you while you set up and start printing out the stencil.

"what're you doin today?" you grab the stencil from the printer and hold it up showing it to him. he observes it before asking where you're doing it at, almost shitting himself as you point to your inner thigh. immediately thinking about how good that's going to look and all the open mouth kisses he'll give it before lapping up your sweet, sweet juices.

rafe is totally in awe looking at your work you've posted on your socials or when you show him the work you did that day. he's so quick to show people your work or refer people to you. he could hear the word 'tattoo' come out of someone's mouth and he's automatically jumping to tell them that his girlfriend is an artist.

he'll be out in public and hear someone talking about how they want a new tattoo and will literally walk up to them and start showing them your work. his beautiful girlfriend is just so talented. why wouldn't he?

"yeah, my girlfriend did this on herself. oh and this one on my friend just a few days ago. i'll give you her info." he'll go on and on about you, "those other artists are just shitty if i'm being honest."

rafe would immediately go to you if he wants a tattoo. no matter how many times you tell him it's free of charge he'll still pay you.

"baby, you're literally my boyfriend. you don't need to pay me for this." you say as he's shoving hundred dollar bills in your face.

─────────────────────────

[cuubism]

physical therapy part 4

--

It takes some time, but finally, Dream's hand starts to feel better when he's painting. Granted, his grip strength still needs some work, and he's had to adjust the way he holds a brush to accommodate the lingering stiffness he gets in some of his fingers, but he's finding it hard to care when a few months ago he couldn't draw a straight line without it turning into a scribble. He'd known Hob was good at his job, but it still feels like a miracle.

The only downside is that once he makes enough progress Hob will surely decide to end their sessions. And while he had said that he liked Dream, that he cared about Dream... Dream is finding it hard to feel assured of those feelings. Someone's feelings can change on a dime, and it's impossible to predict.

But finally the day does come when Hob deems him progressed enough to simply continue his exercises at home. "At this point I think you've regained enough mobility that it's just a matter of gradually increasing how much you're using your hand," he says. "You've made a ton of progress."

"Have I?" Dream is less sure. Some things are certainly easier now, like doing tasks around the house, and picking things up. Art is another matter. Though perhaps he is simply making excuses because he doesn't want to stop seeing Hob.

"Yeah, look." Hob pulls out a folder from amongst his files, and shows Dream several sketches--the ones Dream's made in session, which he's apparently kept. Dream picks up the oldest sketch, the cats he'd doodled at his first appointment. They're shaky and uneven, like something he might have drawn when he was barely four. He supposes he can't deny the progress since then. He's torn between wanting to tear the drawing up, for it's too wretched a reminder--and wanting to hold it close to his chest.

"It's not that I think there's no more room for improvement, or anything," Hob says. "I just don't think continuing these frequent sessions is going to offer more than a marginal benefit."

Dream thinks that the benefit he is receiving at this point is more in being able to look forward to seeing Hob each week, than the physical therapy itself. He needs something to look forward to. He's put Hob's objectively terrible finger painting on his fridge. It's still the only spot of color in his empty flat. He needs that.

"So," Hob continues, "I thought I'd take you out to celebrate."

That pulls Dream from his head. "You... will?"

Hob winks at him. "Promised you, didn't I?"

Yes. Dream supposes he had promised that if Dream's feelings held true Hob would act on them. Is that what he's doing? Dream's growing disappointment swiftly morphs into something else. Hope.

"I--" he swallows hard. "I. Would like that." It's still strange, to have something he wants. And to feel like it may be okay to express it.

"Perfect." Hob grins, gets up, holds out a hand.

"Now?"

"You got somewhere else to be?"

Dream never has anywhere else to be, and doubts he would go there if he did. He takes Hob's hand.

Hob takes him to a Chinese restaurant nearby, and Dream looks at him suspiciously as Hob passes him a pair of chopsticks with a cheeky grin. "Now you are just testing me."

"Yup. 'Course if you can't use chopsticks in the first place then it's moot."

Dream can use chopsticks. Could. No, can. Death would say that he should think positively.

So he takes the chopsticks.

Once their food comes, Hob, the absolute bastard, puts down his own chopsticks and picks up a fork instead. And Dream knows, somehow he just knows, that it's not because he can't use them. He's teasing Dream. Or perhaps ensuring that Dream won't compare himself if he struggles. Or both.

He should feel hurt by the teasing but... somehow he's not.

"See?" Hob says when Dream manages to eat his noodles with the chopsticks. It's... not that hard. It doesn't even hurt. Maybe Hob is better at his job than Dream even thought.

It makes him tear up. Such a silly, small thing to start crying over when he's barely cried at all, even when he'd first hurt his hand.

"Hey, it's okay," Hob soothes him, wiping away Dream's tears with his thumb. "I think the noodles are salty enough without the addition of tears, hm?"

Dream laughs, wiping at his eyes when the tears keep falling. "Good tears," he manages to say.

"I know," Hob says, and smiles at him.

Dream surprises himself by having an actually nice time. He hasn't had a nice time doing something in so long. It feels good. He doesn't want it to end.

Of course, it does end, and he finds himself lingering outside the restaurant, hesitant to go home. Particularly as he no longer has a set time when he will see Hob. He feels aimless without that, but. It is hard to ask.

"Dream..." Hob starts, likewise lingering in front of the restaurant. The lights of the signage above cast his face in shades of violet. Dream has thought him handsome before, but never so much as now.

Hob hesitates over what to say, then finally just steps over to him. "Come here."

And before Dream can decide how to react, Hob folds him into a hug.

Dream goes still on instinct. Then, gradually, relaxes into Hob's strong hold. He... can't remember the last time someone hugged him.

He lets himself tuck his face into Hob's shoulder.

"Hey," Hob says. His voice is so close to Dream's ear now. "I'm proud of you."

Dream hears himself make a tiny whimpering sound. He. He does not know how to be proud of himself. He thinks he would only be proud of himself if he could go back in time and stop himself from getting in that terrible relationship to begin with. But he does like how it sounds when Hob says it.

Hob gives him one more squeeze, then, disappointingly, releases him. "I almost forgot. I have something for you."

He digs around in his bag and comes back with a box that looks rather like art supplies of some kind. "It's modelling clay," he explains. "So you can play around and work on your hand without just doing, you know, boring exercises all the time."

Hob is too considerate of him, truly. Dream holds the box close.

"You okay to get home?" Hob asks, and Dream nods. His ex has not bothered him again, and Dream is now hopeful that he won't. Though that does not necessarily mean he doesn't want Hob to follow him home.

"Good," Hob says. Then, while Dream is still thinking about the hug and the clay and everything else, Hob leans in and kisses his cheek. "Goodnight, Dream."

Dream stands paralyzed until Hob is gone, and it's only then that he realizes he failed to set another time for them to meet. He supposes he does have Hob's office contact info. Still, it is disappointing not to have something to look forward to.

But when he gets home, and opens the box of clay, he finds a note inside. It has the name of a coffee shop, and Tuesday, 3pm?, and Hob's personal number. At first he's confused. Why wouldn't Hob simply ask him while they were together? And then he realizes that Hob must be trying to give him a chance to comfortably back out if he wants to by letting him decide in private. It makes him want to cry again. Hob truly is too considerate of him.

But he takes out his phone and types in Hob's number, and a simple reply. Yes.

[the-way-astray]

what is going on

let me take you back to half a week ago, when this first started.

it all starts with a simple notification. i click on it, thinking it's an innocent ask, or perhaps an anon wanting to pick a fight with me. i am a notorious keefe hater in this fandom, after all. let's see what the anons have to throw at me this time. if only that small, innocent, little me from four days ago had known. the notification was nothing short of a snake, hiding in the grass, waiting to strike.

it was alayda. she'd dared me to write something *horrified gasp* positive about keefe. she thought me, a notorious keefe hater, couldn't possibly have anything nice to say about my least favorite guy? well, i'd show her. i typed out a truly magnificent pro keefe essay, if i do say so myself. tumblr fought me the entire time, trying to delete half of it, but i persevered, and eventually posted it.

i had no idea what was coming for me. over the next few hours, i began to get truly heinous asks, questioning my commitment to my keefe hatred, and generally slandering my reputation. at the time, i'd thought this was as bad as it could get. but, oh. oh, no, no, no. as edaline ruewen said, "hindsight is a dangerous game". now i know that it could get worse than i could possibly even begin to imagine. and it did.

that same day, i got the ask. the one that changed everything. i responded in horrified horror, terrified terror, because i knew everything was about to change. and the next day, it appeared that other anons had followed in the first anon's footsteps. it was decided that me and keefe would be an enemies-to-lovers romance. our ship name was to be strieefe. an anon went to the official poll blog, @/do-you-ship-this-book-couple. i changed my ask box title to "KEEFE WOULD NOT LIKE ME" and got an anon about it. they started going to katie's ask box.

the debate ramped up. more people became aware. people, both anon and not, began to choose sides. i began offering badly drawn sketches to people who sided against this atrocious excuse for a ship. i should probably be making those instead of typing this out. whoopsie. i fought the anons that disagreed with me with a desperation akin to a rat caught in a trap, but my thrashing appeared to only attract more unhinged anons.

i then got my first anon that made a genuine attempt to explain why this horrible ship could theoretically work. they were wrong, of course, but i appreciate the effort. as i've explained countless times, the real relationship me and keefe would have if he were real would be one-sided hatred. i would hate him with a passion that can't be adequately described by the english language, and he'd be entirely unaware of my existence.

then! a miracle! an anon sent an ask to quil about strieefe, and i can only assume they wanted quil to analyze why we'd be good together. but quil, i never should've doubted quil. the response was a fantastically constructed analysis on why i was right about how i'd have one-sided rage toward keefe. but my delight dimmed significantly when i saw that fin, someone whom i'd previously trusted, had thrown his support behind this awful ship and even drawn fanart of me and keefe. i swiftly demoted him from the spot he had previously shared with max: "favorite fintanposter".

the anons got more unhinged. i began to be shipped with non-keefe main cast characters, sometimes monogamously, sometimes not. i bravely faced the assault, tearing the anons' arguments to shreds with my logical explanations as to why i would not be a good fit for any of them. this led to me posting a poll at the insistence of one anon, which is still open.

just as the waters were looking significantly less treacherous, just as it seemed i may make it to shore without drowning, a new development occurred. i got an ask from alayda, who as you may remember, is the one that started all this. this is entirely her fault. i'd expected maybe a heartfelt apology, perhaps a plea for forgiveness. but no. her ask was but an ominous warning, one i could not make sense of. i pondered the meaning as i stared at it. and then. horror upon horrors, it appeared in my inbox. i read through it in horrified horror, and my rickety little boat was once more swept out to sea.

it was a fanfic. a terribly written, horribly wattpad-ified, y/n-ish fanfic. i tore it to shreds thoroughly, taking pleasure as the scraps of the work of the one who had brought all this sorrow upon me fell in loose tatters all around me. i dusted off my hands and left it at that.

but it continued. even as i type this out, there is a part two to that horrific fanfic sitting in my inbox, which alayda is pestering me to post. there's also a part one to another anon fanfic, which is written relatively well, which arguably makes it even worse than alayda's. then there's yet another poem written about me and keefe by emelin, which also sits in my inbox, gathering dust as i attempt to piece the broken shards of my sanity back together.

all this to say, join the correct side of this debate. we have badly drawn sketches and braincells. be on the right side of history.

[anim-ttrpgs]

Chase Mechanics Overhaul in Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy

Some screenshots and sketches from a playtest of the new overhauled chase mechanics from Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy.

This one was specifically for car chases, and we did three total playtests in one session because they were short enough that we could do that: One with all the PCs in one car chasing all the NPCs in one car in a city/town setting, one with all six characters in separate vehicles in a town/city setting, and finally one with two motorcyclists chasing each other across a straight stretch of highway.

The first three screenshots you see here are from the second one, and the last screenshot is from an earlier playtest a week or so ago that dealt with foot chases.

An unarmed mundane PC in a normal car, an unarmed pyrokinetic in a normal car, and a vampire armed with a semi-automatic pistol on a motorcycle all trying to flee from an NPC armed with a semi-automatic pistol in a regular car, an NPC armed with a semi-automatic pistol in a van, and an NPC armed with a machine pistol on a motorcycle.

For a super short breakdown of how chases work, the fleeing characters start a little bit ahead, and also get the first turn.

Each character has a Speed, based on what vehicle they have and their skill at driving that vehicle, which determines how many actions they can take, with moving one space equaling one action, though they can at most take one combat action per turn.

Then, there’s Obstacles, which are scattered randomly around the map by the game master as they are rolled on a table. These obstacles range from simple potholes to jaywalkers to traffic to fruit stands to trains, and some can be just as likely to take out a character as gunfire. Thanks to a set of stretch goals we hit in the Kickstarter, Eureka will have four separate tables for the GM to roll Obstacles on, each for different environments and different types of chases. I have been working on them for the past couple of weeks and their inclusion is part of the reason for the chase mechanics overhauls in the first place.

Each playtest lasted only a handful of rounds. In the first one, the fleeing NPCs got a huge head start but the PCs managed to catch them by taking a shortcut across a side road(where they nearly ran over a guy) and head them off, ending the chase by ramming the NPCs’ car with their own, using a new rule called a Vehicle Attack.

In the second, more complex one, the the biker NPC chased after the mundane PC in the car, repeatedly spraying him with bullets and causing him to lose his glasses. He is extremely, extremely lucky he was only hit by one of those bullets. (all sketches by team artist @theblackwarden)

Meanwhile, the vampire PC pulled over in a side street and waited for the pursuers to catch up, ambushing one of them and shooting him to death as he passed. The hunters would become the hunted.

All of this shooting brought the police to the scene after a few turns, thanks to the new Heat mechanic that determines how likely the police are to intervene in any given situation. The two non-vampire PCs had to Charm roll their way through the new obstacles created by the police to get to safety, while the other two NPCs were arrested before the vampire could hunt them down and kill them both. Oh and one police officer crashed into a fruit stand and died.

Here is one more sketch of the pyrokinetic using her powers to set the wheel of a pursuing vehicle on fire.

In the last playtest, both motorcyclists kept expertly dodging obstacles, with the fleeing one steadily increasing the distance between the two, until he got hit by a train and died.

In an earlier playtest, this one taking place on-foot, a lot more characters were taken out by obstacles. One goon was run over by a malfunctioning cybertruck, and another got stuck in wet cement and then shot to death by police because he was holding a gun.

Even devoid of any story context, these were incredibly fun sessions to run, which perfectly emulated a Hollywood chase scene while still remaining within Eureka’s realistic constraints, and we have gotta set more of these up in future adventure modules.

If you want to play Eureka with these rules, you can get the most recent version that includes them for only $5 on our patreon! There’s no better time to sign up, since we just released a big update to the beta rulebook, we just launched the Gorgon Initiative! Long story short, the playable gorgon monster type is a Kickstarter stretch goal we didn’t hit, but if we can reach 50 total patreon subscribers before the end of June, we’re going to be adding it to the book anyway! At the time of writing this, we’re at 45/50! You could make the difference, and get all this new Eureka content to boot!

You can also join the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club, where we nominate, vote on, read, and play TTRPGs like a book club, and vote for Eureka in the upcoming round. (Starts on the morning of June 12th, 2024.) There is no time commitment or schedule requirement, as we group people based on schedule compatibility, making it extremely flexible and schedule-friendly. Plus, it’s just a cool play to hang out and talk about RPGs.

We also have a ko-fi and merchandise if you just wanna give us more money for any reason.

We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.

[yandere-kokeshi]

Pavitr with a reader (m or gn) whose a thief- but for “good” reason. He struggles to take care of himself and needs the money :(

Pav feels bad for him, but at he same time needs to be spiderman- so he tends to mostly let him go? and eventually they build some sort of silent “frenemie” relationship:)

thank you!

Warnings: yandere behavior and stalking

A/N: idk if this is okay, I hurried this; I did male reader. Hope you enjoy :]

He feels awful whenever he sees you steal money or food; possibly other necessary items that are way too expensive than they should be.

Of course, he’s Spiderman. He’s supposed to take care of the city and knock down all evil - but, you were pulling his heart string, quite hard. He wants to help you, his spider senses going crazy to urgently fix the problem but he’s unsure how to.

Sure, the two of you had a lot of run-ins and he would always let you go. But, he never really realized why he did so. At first, he thought his senses were broken - something turned them off and yanked them like strings.

But the more he watched you from rooftops, looking at items that were necessary before grabbing them off the shelves, the yelling ensued as you pushed and shoved anyone - running off the unknown of crowded streets before taking a sharp turn into an alleyway; which is where he’d normally meet you. Pavitr realized that his empathy was stepping in. He felt bad for stealing necessary items, which is how he decided to approach you one day.

Pavitr followed you near an alleyway after an incident, seeing how you held the food close to your chest as if you were to let go, it’d disappear. He felt awful, a frown puzzled on his face as he watched you lean against the wall, opening the bag to see what you stole. By his twitching needs to approach you, he swung behind you.

Automatically, your brain warned you of a new presence - and when you turned around, Pavitr stood there with a bag of goodies and waved awkwardly, a small but meaningful: ‘Hi…!’

But, reacting like anyone, you threw a bunch of stuff at him, seriously cursing him out as he dodged most objects, and before he knows it, you were gone without the food you had stolen; of course, being the ‘hero’, he returned it but made sure to find you again, keeping note of your scared and uneasy reactions.

Then, that’s where his play of ‘anonymously’ leaves gifts comes in. Within a day or two, he’s found your home - making sure to take brain notes of the times you leave and come back. By the time you come back from a small errand, a few gifts of things were on your bed, a bunch of sticky notes with smiles or words of encouragement; a small sketch of a similar Spiderman that you saw a few days ago.

Within those gifts, Pavitr often gives you money, food, and hygienic items. Seeing your reaction was pretty precious to him.

From then on, he understood that’s what he was going to do from now on, until he can get you comfortable enough to approach you in person.

Every day, the gifts came. Sometimes they’d have new items, different types of food that you wouldn’t buy due to the expense. But, they usually kept the same. It made Pavitr happy that you got excited when you saw them, eagerly opening up the bags like a kid on Christmas morning.

Until he made a small mistake. That early in the morning, he swung in the cities, stopping at your window before opening it up, crawling in as he did for the past few weeks. He left the bags on your bed, making sure everything was perfect to his eye level.

However, Pavitr heard the front door open and close. Your familiar footsteps coming into the bedroom. His heart started racing. His body wouldn’t move. His spidery senses wouldn’t stop buzzing and telling him to move! - he only reacted at the worst time.

By the time you opened the bedroom door, coming in to see Pavitr’s body halfway out and in through the window, the two of you stared at each other for a few seconds before you spoke up, “Who— what the hell are you doing?” Ultimately, he laughed. A small one and an uncomfortable one. “I’m… uh. Leaving a gift for someone. Yeah, you. Not from me though.”

With a look of scaredness and awkwardness, Pavitr looked at you before speaking up, “You enjoy! This… is a gift from me. Have fun!” Before he could zoom off into the cities, you yelled at him - to which, he turned around and gave you his full attention.

You thanked him out of consideration and niceness, a smile forming on your face.

Pavitr was… surprised.

He wasn’t expecting it. But he’s taking it into thought. All he did was nod, a laugh coming from him before swinging off to fight crime - your face becoming a fond memory. Every day, he now swings by to talk to you, which envelopes your relationship - a new start of something new.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, it helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[wheels-of-despair]

Draw Me Like One of Your Dwarf Girls, Eddie Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie decides to work on his drawing skills, and accidentally awakens a monster in the process. Contains: Titanic references, female nudity, a brush with death. Word Count: 1.3k-ish

"Draw me like one of your dwarf girls, Eddie," you say in a sultry voice, trying your hardest not to laugh.

"What did I tell you about talking?" He pauses to give you a pointed look, since he's already told you to pipe down several times. You roll your eyes, and he returns to his drawing with a renewed vigor.

It's early 1998, and you've recently dragged your poor Eddie to a theater to see that damn Titanic movie everybody and their mother keeps raging about. All 3 hours of it. You may have neglected to mention the runtime when you bought the tickets. You owe him.

He survived, but was suddenly faced with the desire to "work on his people-sketching skills." Which of course meant it took him less than a week to convince you to strip and pose like Rose on the couch, wearing only that red guitar pick necklace he's had since high school.

You're stretched out and exposed and already bored. Two hours ago, he'd adjusted your hand a quarter of an inch this way, your knee a quarter of an inch that way, and you'd been instructed not to move.

Well, it felt like two hours, but it was really only about 30 minutes.

With nothing else to do, and being mildly disappointed that he didn't find your commentary amusing, you watch his eyes follow the pencil scratching across the paper you can't see. He's cute when he's concentrating. Tongue poking out, brow furrowed, that spark of creativity in his eye. It must be going well, because he smiles occasionally. He even giggled once. If you had to guess, you'd say it probably had something to do with a nipple. It was a little chilly.

"Just as I thought; it's a masterpiece."

"Are you done?" You'd only been in this position for an eternity.

"Oh yeah, this baby's getting framed." Ignoring you, he holds his sketch pad out to view it at an arm's length, beaming at his creation.

"Can I move now?!"

"Yeah, you can move."

You stretch your stiff limbs and get up off the couch, reaching for the flannel he'd discarded on a chair nearby, buttoning a few buttons as you pad over to where he sat admiring his work.

You place a hand on his back and look over his shoulder at the figure on his sketchbook. You're confused, but you can't take your eyes off of it. You can't think of anything to say. Until…

"What. The FUCK. Is THAT."

He looks up innocently and says, "What? I was just following instructions. You kept talking, figured I better listen."

You have no words.

You do, however, have a fucking BEARD in Eddie's drawing.

He sits there, looking up at you with a proud grin on his face, waiting for you to react.

You stare at him wordlessly, still in a state of shock.

Until he laughs at you. LAUGHS AT YOU.

Your brain begins to swirl furiously, until it flashes one word: KILL.

You clench your fists, and he begins to sense that you're not going to start laughing with him. His eyes widen, and he jumps out of his chair, vaults over the coffee table, and stands on the couch.

"I can explain," he says quickly, trying to sound calm, steps unsteady on the cushions.

You can explain too. Explain to the responding officers how one Edward James Munson met his gruesome demise.

"It's Tolkien."

You ignore him and advance slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. Eyes unblinking. Blood boiling. Steam probably coming out of your ears. He jumps off the couch as you approach the coffee table.

"It's from a book!" He's walking backward, holding out his sketch pad like a lion tamer with a chair.

His eyes bulge as he hits something solid. You've backed him into a corner. Literally.

"Tolkien! Middle-earth! The Hobbit! Nerd shit!"

Nerd shit won't save you now, Munson. You narrow your eyes and prepare to go in for the kill. He panics.

"Dwarf women have beards! It was a joke! I'm sorry! I love you!"

The "I love you" makes you pause, just as you were about to pounce and slash your prey to pieces. The hell?

"What?" you ask, giving your head a slight shake in confusion.

"Dwarf women have beards. In the books. You said to draw you like a dwarf. It was a joke. I thought you'd know what it was."

"You thought I'd know some random detail from a book I haven't read in over a decade?"

"I mean, it's a pretty memorable detail…"

You roll your eyes, heave a sigh, and pinch the bridge of your nose. Why is this not surprising?

"So you're not gonna kill me?" He's still backed into his corner. You consider it for a moment, deciding that you've played with him enough for today.

"Not tonight, Munson."

He exhales and leans his head back against the wall.

"But I WILL get you for this," you threaten, pointing a finger at him. He nods, used to this constant back-and-forth game you'd both been playing for over a decade. He knew you'd never really hurt him, just like you knew he wouldn't hurt you either. It was just a game.

You turn to walk away, and hear him whisper to the abomination he's still clutching: "Don't worry baby, you're still gettin' framed."

You whip around, eyes flashing. He gulps. You step closer, making him lean further back into the wall. He's cute when he's scared.

"Give it."

He stares at you with those big, beautiful brown eyes of his.

"Give it," you repeat, holding out a hand and waiting for him to place his sketchbook into it.

Reluctantly, he hands it to you. You maintain eye contact as your fingers find the thick cover page, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of looking at his ungodly creation again. You slam it shut and he flinches.

"What are you gonna do with it?"

Beat your nerdy ass to death with it.

Still clutching his sketch pad, you step back silently and gesture for him to walk on by with your free hand. He slowly peels himself off the wall and begins to move with an apprehensive look in your direction, and a thought occurs to you.

As he scurries past you, you smack him on the ass with his sketchbook. He whirls around with a yelp, hands clutching his cheeks. It's cardboard, you drama queen. You step closer and swing the book at his arm.

"You made me lay there for AN HOUR! While! You! Drew! That!" You punctuate each word with another smack of the sketch pad. He continues overreacting to each hit and falls to the floor with a wail when you finish yelling, clutching his imaginary wounds. You lift the book above your head with both hands, ready to finish him.

"It started out real! But I couldn't make it look like you! It wasn't pretty enough!" You graciously decide to let him continue, still holding the sketchbook in an attack position, just in case. "I tried," he explains calmly now, "but it wasn't working out, and then you said the dwarf thing, and I thought it would be funny. I'll make it up to you."

"Damn right, you will." You lower the book and release it. It lands on his chest with a light thud. He grins from his position on the floor. You step over him and make your way toward the bedroom.

"Starting now," you inform him from the hallway, not slowing or turning around. You hear him scramble to get up, knock something over, and curse before he hurries in your direction.

He's lucky he's cute.

[gothic-lottie]

Chapter 20 of Making Some Sense of This is out now

Poppy and Isobel finally clear up their miscommunication from chapter 17

When we landed outside the sanctuary, I took Poppy’s hand and led her inside. The snidgets chirped and flew around us, a couple landing on Poppy’s shoulders and head as we walked through to the picnic I had set up. There was a blanket on the floor atop some of the salvaged pelts that were less desirable for clothes and candles scattered around the picnic site. “Oh, this is beautiful…”

‘Go look in the snidget nest.’

I sat on the blanket and started unloading the picnic I’d packed from my bag while she retrieved the envelope from the tree. Poppy sat beside me, examining the sketch on the back of the envelope. “This is beautiful… I can’t open it, I’m too afraid to ruin the picture.” She held the envelope out to me and I sighed before carefully opening it for her and handing back, making sure the picture remained undamaged. “Thank you… Oh, why is the envelope glowing?” Poppy took the letter out before seeing the brooch sitting at the bottom of the envelope. She gasped and pulled out the brooch, dropping the letter and envelope to stare at her new lover’s eye. “This is… You made me one of your eye! Oh bell, I thought- I was so worried- I thought you didn’t love me… How could I have ever thought that?” There were tears pooling in the corners of her eyes which I quickly wiped away with my sleeve before hugging her. She returned the hug, burying her face in my shoulder. “How long have you been planning this?”

I picked up the letter and tapped her arm to let go, handing it to her when she did. She started reading, looking back at the brooch in her hand every few seconds as though she didn’t believe it was real. “You started this before Anne died… I’m so stupid, I really thought…”

I was very alarmed and concerned. What have I done to make her feel that way? ‘Why did you think I didn’t love you?’

“Well… When we went to Hogsmeade a couple weeks ago, you said… May I?” she held her hands out, asking for my book, and I gladly handed it over. “It was a while ago so… Ah, here. “I made some compromises for Anne so please don't assume we're…” I thought… you meant that I was a compromise…”

I practically snatched the book from her hands. ‘No no no, that’s absolutely not what I meant! See here, just before that.’ I pointed at the line before. ‘I mentioned that Anne and I came back to the house for… things my religion doesn’t allow before marriage. That was the compromise.’

“Oh… OH! I didn’t even realize that!”

I covered my quickly reddening face and when I peeked out between my fingers, Poppy was doing the same, mumbling something high pitched and incoherent.

“Helga’s grace, I’m so sorry.”

I took a hand from my face to write back.

‘I’m sorry too.’

“I can’t believe we missed each other so badly.”

…

We stared at each other before both bursting out into fits of laughter. “Merlin’s pants, I took you saying we weren’t going to be intimate as “I don’t love you” that’s atrocious!” It took a few minutes for our laughter to subside. 

I took a deep breath to regain my composure. ‘With that out of the way, would you mind doing this charm on my brooch so we can match?’ I held out the page I had copied the spell onto and my unenchanted brooch. 

“Of course, magpie. I’ll make sure it’s the shiniest thing in the room wherever you go.”

We spent hours there after that, having lunch then staring up at the snidgets flying overhead. I drew Poppy and she spent so much of the evening staring at her brooch, watching its unending glow.

Chapter 19 art

Master List

[midnightanxietytm]

Magnum Opus

a/n: Baaah... Anyways. I've been chewing on the idea of a swap au too, would yall like that?

Summary: In which Narinder is a prodigy from a family of artists, famous for his marble sculptures portraying death, but he decides to try something new...

word count: 981

“There’s something so mournful about his recent pieces…”

“Well of course, they are all about death.”

“I know that, silly, but the previous ones felt more like an exploration of violence, like a scream of rage. This one, for example, just feels like…Like silent tears, like visiting a grave.”

“Hm… I think I see it…”

He tunes out the conversation, for his own good, after that.

Narinder knows something has changed about his art, and it infuriates him. A few months ago he had his worst artist block so far, something so devastating he even considered trying his youngest brother Leshy’s erratic approach and simply hit his marble as hard as he could like Leshy did with his canvases.

But before he did, he had a breakthrough; he woke up in the middle of the night, ran to his studio like a madman and feverishly started to sketch a new piece, then another, and another, until he drew half an exposition in under a week, bareilly eating, drinking or sleeping in between each sketch and another, just to make sure it would all be perfect before he even laid a mallet on the stone.

Then he worked tirelessly for almost two years, and alas, he made his new exhibition…

But it still wasn’t perfect.

The critics were right, something had changed in his tone. He always had a preference for putting a focus on death, his first ever exposition had been an installation in which red stained glass was arranged so when the lights came on, the viewer would look like they were splotched with blood. Looking back on it, it was too pretentious for his current taste, but it was a good first, something that set him apart in the scene; it screamed; I am here, I am death, I am violent. It was his branding.

That’s why his current viewers spotted the difference so quickly. Marble had been his medium for years now, death had been his main theme for even longer, yet he never managed to sculpt such sorrowful expressions; he had made pain before, agony, anger, but he never managed to convey such emptiness before. It should be a feat, should be an accomplishment to be celebrated with one of  Heket’s famous dinners.

But it’s not what he wanted.

Shamura always told him that his need for perfection could be his downfall, bold talk from someone whose style of choice was photorealism. He had ignored their advice, but now Narinder could feel another block coming.

“I told you so…” It’s what Shamura says when he goes to them for a debrief of the exposition. They pour him some tea anyway, and Narinder sits down at the neat table of their studio.

“I know…” He rolls his eyes. “Can you say something else at least?”

“I think you should rest from the pressure.  Don’t make an exposition this year, nor the next one, only make something if it’s for you, and you only.” They say to him with a smile, and Narinder sighed again.

“Something for myself…” He mutters, staring at his sketchbook. Narinder had been born in art, by the time he was ten, Shamura was already a big name and Kallamar was well on his way too, and he had always been a creative child, especially encouraged by Shamura.

But his first piece was put out when he was just eighteen, and he had been putting on expositions since then, so how long was it since he did something that was just his? The page in front of him is dreadfully empty.

Maybe he would make something peaceful, this time…

A lamb, so unlike him…

Closed eyes, tender smile…

No, no not that, scratch it, throw it away.

Open eyes, dilated pupils, yes, that’s better…

Mouth starting to curl up, but they aren’t smiling yet.

Laid down on their side, arm under their head, nude- 

No, not nude… Light robes, almost sheer ones, fit for mid-spring, fit for basking under the sun.

A sketch is born. And from there, Narinder knows he can rest, he closes his sketchbook and goes to sleep. This one is his, there’s no need to rush.

Narinder starts with a bust, before he starts on the final piece.

He wants to get the face right, wants to capture that lovely face in just the right expression… People say the mind can’t come up with faces it hasn’t seen before, and Narinder wonders as he carefully carves their beautiful visage, where he had ever seen such features, he wondered if he would even manage to capture it; they had such a complexity to their expressions; a softness that covers such mysteries, such loving eyes, yet filled with both rage and sadness, were they a mirror of his own? Or were they a better version of him? Maybe they were nothing like him at all, but instead what he desired most.

The bust is made during a month and a half of almost meditative work; he works slowly, he struggles to get the texture of their wool right, takes him almost a week, but he managed to come up with something, and he’s satisfied with it as it frames that beautiful face, curling in the softest way.

But finally, he goes to sleep that night knowing he’s one step closer to perfection.

And he dreams.

“My my!” Exclaims the melodious voice in his head, sounding delighted. “It’s been so long…” A figure steps out of the fog in his mind, Narinder still feels incorporeal, floating, but he still feels himself purr as The Lamb looks at him with loving eyes. “I was right to bless you, all those years ago, you probably don’t even remember…” They chuckle, and Narinder doesn’t even really care for remembering, just now is perfect, they are perfect. “Oh! You’re already waking up?! Don’t worry, I’ll visit you soon…”

a/n: I was planning to make this longer but i didn't really know how to take it further. Nari is just whipped and he's an artist. Couldn't be me lmao

edit b4 I sleep: just realized thats just about godspousal lol. I sneaked witchcraft in my fic and didn't even notice till it was posted

[notebooknonbinary]

Byler Week, Day 6: Pre-Volume 2 Vibes

:)

-

He eyes the two sketches. They both would be a bit like putting his heart on the canvas. But which one would be more damning?

And which one would make Mike the happiest to get?

…

Still undecided, he pads out into the living room. Thankfully, Mom is between calls. She looks up and gives him a weary smile.

Evens, the DnD picture, odds, the swingset. “Hey, can you pick a number between one and ten?

“Hmmm, seven.”

“Okay…Thank you…”

Will goes back to his room, closes the door, and forces down the roiling anxiety making his throat tight. Swingset painting it is, then.

Mechanically, he finishes setting out his painting supplies. He sets the drawing in easy view of the easel.

If the painting is too much…If he finishes painting out this pivottable moment from their childhood (“It’s the best thing I’ve ever done.”), and the love he has for Mike comes across too clearly…Well, he can just give Mike the drawing of the DnD scene. It’s a good drawing anyway. One he’ll probably want to paint out at some point anyway.

He takes a few deep breaths, and focuses on the canvas.

-

Will hates to see Mike so down on himself.

Perhaps it’s not the best time. Maybe he should be a good friend and brother, focusing on trying to fix whatever it is that’s broken Mike and El apart so badly. But Will’s heart is hurting that Mike is hurting and he just wants to see him smile.

“Can I show you something?”

Heart in his throat, he hands the painting over. Jonathan and Argyle in the front of the van seem miles away. All Will can focus on is Mike’s face, as he unrolls the painting.

And…

A smile spreads across Mike’s face, and it’s the most beautiful thing in the world to Will.

Mike looks up to beam at him.

“This is amazing,” he says genuinely. “Did you paint this?”

“Yeah…I…I mean…” Will looks away, feeling flustered at the genuine awe and happiness that’s taken over Mike’s face. He picks at a loose thread on his pants.

“These past few months, I’ve been so…lost without you.” He curls his fingers into the fists. “It’s just…I’m so different from other people.” His eyes suddenly burn from the tears he’s been swallowing back all week. “And when you’re…different, sometimes you can feel like a mistake.” He forces himself to face Mike, needing him to understand. “But you don’t make me feel like a mistake. You make me feel like being different is good. I think I’ve been kind of mean and distant lately, but that’s just because I’m so scared of losing you.” He bites his lip, feeling like maybe he’s said a bit too much. He refocuses on the painting.

“A couple years ago you said…asking to be my friend was the best thing you’ve ever done…” Will swallows and looks up, watches Mike’s face go pink. His eyes are wide and almost sparkling. Pretty. It gives Will the courage to finish speaking. “Well, I guess this was me saying that telling you yes was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Mike tears up, and it’s so sudden and startling (Mike hardly ever cries), that Will feels himself tearing up again in response.

And then Mike grabs him into a hug, tight and warm and oh so familiar. “Thank you Will. This is the best thing I’ve ever gotten.”

For a moment they sit, hugging and crying a little, and for the first time all week things feel brighter.

“I tried to call,” Mike mumbles into Will’s shoulder. “But the line was always blocked with your Mom’s job. I’ve been scared of losing you too, because it keeps happening.”

Oh.

Part of Will immediately wants to burst out into apologies, allow the nudging guilt at the back of his brain to take the forefront. But that can wait until later.

Right now, Will just wants to hug his best friend. Everything else fades into the background. This moment is theirs.

-

In the front of the van, unheard by the younger teens, Argyle whispers. “Dude, was that a confession? Does baby bro have a boyfriend now?”

Jonathan nudges him. “If they are, they’ll say so when they’re ready.” He bites his lip. Either way, I should make sure Will knows I’m here for him.

[silverhart-makes-art]

This week's Bestiary Posting is a collection of worms! I opted to interpret 'worms' as wyrms (aka weird little dragons with six limbs), because drawing a bunch of legless, eyeless, boneless cylinders did not appeal to me. Sorry worms, I love ya, but there's not a lot I can do with a worm in a quick sketch like this. So we're going with dragons, some of which are at least a little wormy.

Labeled version and more detailed explanations below.

Lenggalgak - a "worm of the air" needed wings to fly through it. It also has four thin appendages for spinning it's web. Seems odd that an animal that makes a web, and thus stays in one place would need to fly, but maybe they use their wings like spiderlings use silk parachutes to float to new homes, and the sedentary adults just use their wings for display.

Khrezaroth - this was meant to be a frog/salamander type thing, and ended up looking nothing like those animals. Still, I like his silly face, and even curled up he has way too many legs (but it's still six - we've got a very specific body plan here).

Phlerotger - Mix between a leech, a tadpole and a cookie cutter shark. It's lost it's limbs and just has little spurs like you see in some snakes. One of the few actually worm-shaped worms here, since it apparently needs to slide down the throat. Absolutely horrible little creature.

Logkashgae - was thinking what could possibly make a bow shaped wound, and decided a thagomizer might do the trick. So horned lizard-stegosaur with a scorpion stance. It's middle limbs have evolved into spikes.

Burlebroth - the description said it was a leaf worm, therefor it must look like a leaf. A leaf-tailed gecko meets a katydid with a bit of chameleon for color.

Kholruntae - since it's said to curl up in leaves my mind went to the Honduran white bats who are very tiny and roost in leaves. Worth looking up some pictures if you want a smile - they're adorable. Basically drew that, but with scales that make it look like a leaf and a long tail.

Shmigwanog - it's a "wood worm", a little stick dragon with the head of a potoo. It's folded wings look like little branches, to help it camouflage even more amid the branches.

Feabladtae - okay, this one is inspired by something I heard from a vet many years ago, about how you can tear a Labrador's ear off and they'd still be wagging their tail. Said in reference to my own Labrador who was quite happily wagging her tail while being treated for an insect bite/sting that had her face swelling to three times it's size. She always loved the vet, no matter how painful the pokes and prods. So in honor of her can't-get-me-down attitude, I've drawn a lab lending their ear to their good Feabladtae friend. As a parasite it doesn't really need it's limbs, so it only has two stubby front limbs, and instead uses it's tail which is covered in little prickles to hold onto it's host's fur.

[dragonthunders01]

History Giants: Titanichthys clarki

Ti. clarki is among the largest known placoderms we have fossil record off, remains of their jaws, skull and shield bones are found scattered but some complete specimens offer a complete view of this peculiar and possible first large filter feeding vertebrate from the late devonian. AMNH 7315 or AMNH FF 7134 (IDK why the different ID from Engelman reference) represent one of the biggest known specimens recovered alongside the Moroccan Ti. termieri, having a head length of 75 cm and extended flat a breadth of 1.4 meters.

Engelman paper on Dunkleosteus body calculation used the measurements of this specimen alongside the smaller but quite complete CMNH 5768 implementing OOL giving on both specimens a body size of 3.7 and 4.15 meters respectively, making this one of the few placoderms that can rivalice in length to Dunkleosteus.

Reconstructing Titanichthys

If you are wondering about some details on this reconstruction looking this way, proportions, shape of the head and the strange "fang" on the front that lacks many recons is because I spend some time trying to check how to reconstruct properly this armored fish, which ended up with this skeletal reconstruction

This already comes from what I tried to do several months ago with the need to properly reconstruct this placoderm since the available figures and references seem not to expose several elements, even those that we do know exist which are not often highlighted in the paper skeletal reconstructions. in this case the base of everything is mostly from CMNH 50319, perhaps one of the most complete Titanichthys with material described online (scale bar 1 m)

I was not just comfy about doing this reconstruction based only in sketches, so instead on assuming proportions by digital sketches in a 2D way, I spend few weeks working my way into blender and modeling each pieces I did build a basic model from most of the bone that forms the whole skull and thoracic shield bones, the model for the moment is not available anywhere, and I don't think I could share it online for the moment.

Every minor thing that is not know is being filled with other of its relatives such as Bungartius and Tafilalichthys, both species the most close relatives on few cladistic trees. Unlike the filter feeder, these two are known to might have been hard prey eaters, they are relatively more complete and better preserved so they work out as a reference base being one of the most useful aspects the lacking elements of the jaw.

Probably is important to remark a lot of mounts that are used as references are pretty incomplete in the front, with also the lower jaw being backwards, the extreme of the jaws should be touching in V shape and the notch probably was filled with cartilage called a meckel's cartilage.

In general picking Bungartius as a sample the upper jaw possess the complete set of superognathal plates, the upper jaw bones that exist on all placoderms, in many species vary in size and shape, which even Titanichthys there is some evidence of a Posterior Supergnathal Plate along the complete specimen (PSG, see above), but not the Anterior (MG or ASG), inferring from the position of both supergnathal and the articulation of the cheek bone where the inferognathal fits, this hypothetically could mark how these bones configurated in the skull.

Eye with this, my reconstruction is speculative, based on how these bones articulates on other specimens, new evidence and more material could provide a more accurate conclusion.

Compared to Dunkleosteus is amazing that level of diversity these reached on the last days of the Devonian, both belonging to two totally different radiations of Arthrodira they grew to become the giants of their time, though currently with this body reconstruction Dunk remains very robust on body shape compared to the more compact shaped Titan.

BTW for those curious how it would look like with its jaw closed.

[hybeana]

COMMS OPEN: HELP ME PAY RENT!

Commission Slots: 3

Donator Doodle Slots: 6

Check under the cut for pricing, wills/wonts, TOS, examples, and more info!

---

ABOUT ME

Hi there! I'm @hybeana! I'm a disabled artist that could really use some help!

Without disclosing too much specific personal information: my disability is mild-to-moderate depending on the day, which means I struggle with IADLs such as grocery shopping, cooking, driving, and cleaning. I also sometimes (but not always!) struggle with walking due to pain. I also deal with regular sensory issues that make daily living a struggle in general. As you can imagine, this prevents me from working most jobs.

I was diagnosed with plantar fasciitis a year or two ago. (That's doctor speak for "heel pain we don't know how to fix.") I am an ambulatory cane user. I'm very certain that I also have an unknown autoimmune disorder, long covid, or god forbid both. I cannot afford to see a doctor. I also need to save money for an autism diagnosis. My autism often prevents me from working due to sensory issues, and a diagnosis ensures that I am fully accommodated. Although, I am unsure if I will ever be able to work a full 9 to 5. My long-term goal is disability payments.

No matter any of that, I still need to keep up with rent. My partner gets income to cover most of it, but they are in school and cannot work full-time. We need to earn about $300 USD minimum more than what they currently make per month to stay in our current apartment until December/January when our lease ends. And that's not even including utilities!

We have basic groceries and most of our rent covered, but feeding 2 adults and 1 cat can be a struggle. My cat is old and requires some supplements that are a little expensive to stay happy and healthy.

You can support me and my family by commissioning some artwork from me! I mainly do digital artwork, but I can also do traditional. Since I get so few commissions in general, I have recently upped my prices. Even a small commission is better than nothing!

---

PRICES

---

Timed 15 Minute Sketch/Doodle: $20.00 USD

This is a timed, 15-minute doodle of one of my OCs, Ascii! This is the option I offer for folks who want to support me, but maybe don't have as much cash to drop on a thermonuclear fully-shaded, fully-lined piece.

---

Rough Lineart (No Color): $50.00 USD

This is a piece I did for my bestie @spearohero of her character Cecelia! The lineart is rough, but unfocused. If there is color, it is extremely minimal (if at all). I clean it up a little bit at the end so that it isn't a complete mess.

---

Rough Lineart + FLAT Coloring: $70.00 USD

This is another one of my OCs, Xenarthron! The style here is rough, not as focused lineart with no/minimal shading. I mostly do these for myself for fun, so I don't spend as much time and energy on them as smooth lineart and shading.

---

Smooth Lineart (No Color): $90.00 USD (THIS CAN GET ME GROCERIES FOR 1 WEEK!)

This piece was a gift for my dear friend @panther-os of his ATLA OC, Amaruq. I spent considerable time referencing real-life images, correcting anatomy, and focusing on line weight. You can see how differently it compares from the rough lineart in that everything is focused and purposeful.

---

Smooth Lineart + SHADED Coloring: $120.00 USD

These are doozies for me because it requires so much effort and work - and I hate shading! Working with lighting can be difficult, but it's worth it in the end to see such a full, emotional piece. I did this one for @/hodagagenda of her sona. Thanks again for your support!

---

What about complex backgrounds, multiple characters, busts, or other stuff not mentioned here?

CONTACT ME for pricing! I am 100% willing to haggle if it means the difference between making rent and... not making rent.

OTHER INFO

Thank you for your time and consideration!

[holycorrupt]

if you have the time/energy to elaborate, what's your process like for coloring stuff you ink traditionally? i've figured out a few different methods over the years, but i generally stick to fully digital or traditional for a piece, so i'm curious to see how you do it! :0

This is such a fun question for me because I get to both ramble about my art process and have an excuse to throw some colors on this Breloom I drew ages ago.

I use Clip Studio Paint and an Ipad for my digital stuff so I'll be referring to the processes on that but I'm sure there is a work around for other programs as well :^)

I scan my traditional art at 400dpi because it's always easier to work bigger with digital stuff and resize it smaller then the other way around :^)

So here's our raw scan, which already looks very decent but when I want to color something I like for everything to be much cleaner/sharper/more contrast-y and to get rid of the noise from the paper texture lmao. A well lit photo will also do the job because that's what I did for many years before getting my scanner but tbh if you're a traditional -> digital artist like myself a scanner is like a best friend you can buy HAHA

First things first, I apply a Gradient Map Layer > New Correction Layer > Gradient Map

Clip has a really nice black and white map preinstalled but I made myself a custom map just by pushing the black and white a little closer, it completely clears up all the noise and makes everything really crisp! Make sure you check on your lines when adjusting things because super fine feather lines can sometimes be lost if you make the contrast too high. Extra tip! If you want to make Graphite Pencil or Ball Point Pen really nice looking as well, just add a dark grey point in the gradient map closer to the black then middle...works perfectly :^)!!

This is the point I look for stray pixels, cat hairs, ect and make sure to erase any surrounding doodles or sketches I don't want included.

GOD DAMN Those lines are CRISP-Y!!!

Next up we're going to want to go Edit > Convert brightness to opacity

Tbh If I didn't have this method idk what I would do with myself.... I've tried the whole "Lineart on top layer set to multiply" Method and ...ehh....

Now that I have a nice transparent line art I'll stick a new white layer down below it because the checker pattern hurts my eyes LOL

I'm going to add a read more here since this post is getting lengthy haha

I'm going to quickly go over the style I use for MTE! It has been refined to be quicker and easier to do since you know...I have a week time limit per page ... 😭 I have a completely different way I do colors for other things I want to spend more time on but I might explain that one in the future...I'm running out of steam tonight LOL

I use this really awesome brush pack that has a pencil like texture and I love it to bits...here's a link to it if your interested!

At this point I might add some overlay layers or play around with an airbrush but I think this guys done for now :^) I tend to stay away from highlights with my shading for MTE..My biggest goal is to make sure everything is clear and readable! That being said I break my own rules all the time for special panels that need the extra 'oomf!'

Slap a lazy square background and yay!! He's done!

Hope this was interesting aaaa Thank you again for the ask!!

[charmedpruehalliwell]

Hey, I need the lore on the Wil Wheaton national TV fiasco. I'm intrigued.

I apologize for letting this sit in my inbox for a hot minute, being an adult with responsibilities and stuff is stupid 😒 (especially when you have an uncontrolled chronic illness on top of it, but anywho)

my time has finally come

okay I lied just a little because it wasn't technically Wil Wheaton that made fun of me, but you'll get what I mean in a moment

So about ten(ish) years ago, Wil had a short lived series on Syfy called the Wil Wheaton Project and for those unfamiliar, he would basically discuss the geek news of the week (like, I know Gotham was airing at the same time, so he would often talk about the latest episode) and there were sketches and guest stars and things of that nature.

But, let me give you some context on me ten years ago, so I can really paint the picture of how batshit this was for me. So, I would've been around 19, maybe 20, at that time, and I had just watched Next Gen for the first time and instantly fell in love (it was actually the first star trek series I had seen, and it's what got me into it). But, not only did I love the show and characters as a whole, I was OBSESSED with Wesley in particular (and Data, but that's not relevant to this story), and at that point in my life I was so much worse than I am now in the sense that, when I was fixated on a certain character, I was FIXATED. Which made me want to look up what Wil was doing in the present day. (it certainly didn't help that i developed a brief little crush on adult Wil). Like, I bought and read his book, I watched and rewatched every movie of his I could get my hands on (Toy Soldiers and Stand By Me in particular were practically playing on a loop), I would rewatch the Wesley episodes like. It was bad lol

So, when I found out he was going to have a new show on Syfy, ofc I was super thrilled and my ass was SEATED from day one when it first premiered. I would faithfully watch it every single week while live tweeting. But, obviously the only episode I ever missed live ended up being the one where I was mentioned lmao I can't remember exactly why I couldn't watch it right away, it's been ten years lol But, I think I was just out or something so I had my DVR set. Normally I would've just watched it the second I got home, but my Mom really enjoyed it as well so I promised I would save it until the next night so we could watch together. As soon as I said good night to her, I logged onto twitter and. all these random people were tweeting me and retweeting a couple of my tweets and I was like "????" I used twitter a lot back then, but I still like. my following was very modest, and I was only involved in one (1) fandom on there, so things like that did not happen to me. And what's worse, the first few people that tweeted at me didn't really explain why?

BUT THEN. I got to one that I still remember it to this day both because it's when I was sort of clued in to what had happened and also because the tweet itself was kinda funny to me. It said something like "just watched the wil wheaton project and immediately had to run to twitter to see if you're real, I'm so glad you are. Have a good evening!" and that's when the adrenaline kicked in. I saw a few more tweets mention the Wil Wheaton Project so at this point I'm literally shaking lmao and I ran into my Mom's room to show her and to freak out a little so she's like "alright, let's go watch it"

And we're watching it, and everything's normal, Wil's just talking about the nerdy stuff that happened that week and I'm just getting more confused as to what I had to do with this BUT THEN

(as a sidenote, they obviously showed my twitter username, but I'd rather not repeat it here because I started it when I was a very young teenager and I no longer have access to it and I'm sure there's stuff on there from past me that would get me doxxed and killed on the "we piss on the poor" no nuance website)

Anyway, he had this segment with Skeletor where Skeletor would read mean tweets, and since this was the season 1 finale (which, unfortunately, also turned out to be the series finale), Skeletor was reading tweets disparaging the Wil Wheaton Project. AND THEN ALL OF THE SUDDEN, MY TWEET POPS UP ON THE SCREEN BEHIND WIL AS HE SAYS SOMETHING ALONG THE LINES OF, "I happen to know a lot of people like watching the show. For example, [REDACTED] said, 'My Tuesday isn't complete without a new episode of the #WilWProject :)'"

and that's about where I burst into (very excited!) tears lmao my mom had to lovingly shush me because she was trying to hear what was being said but I was too busy crying

So, then Skeletor made comment about how I must be a woman of sophistication before he pulled up another one of my tweets that read, "I love sitting on countertops and I don't know why" and then he said one or two more things making fun of me and my love of sitting on countertops and that was about it lol

But the thing is, those two tweets were not back to back. I was a young millennial on social media, I was posting every damn thought that popped into my head lmao and idk when they started planning out the next week's show and writing the jokes, but there's about a 50% chance that either Wil himself or someone on his team saw some of tweets where I talked about how adorable I thought Wesley was in his uniform 🤦🏻‍♀️ (I like to imagine my absolute nightmare scenario where Wil and maybe a few writers are all sitting around some table and my tweets are just projected onto a screen in the front of the room or something. I don't want to be corrected if that's not what happened, I'd rather just live with that image forever 😂)

Anyway, I can't remember exactly how long it was after that happened, but I believe it was at least a few days, Wil posted on his website that unfortunately, the show had been canceled. Except he titled that particular post with "if you like sitting on countertops..." which was so bittersweet for me. Like, I was obviously super bummed his show hadn't made it but it was so exciting that I wasn't just a blip on his radar, like I was still a part of the running gag! And, as I said, it's been a decade since this happened but I still think of it at least once a year on the anniversary, if not more often, because it was legit one of the top 5 moments of my life lol

I've always hoped that I would get to go to a convention or something and meet him so I could be like "I'm the countertop girl!" but sadly, especially with COVID, that hasn't happened yet. Perhaps someday :)