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I wanted to do something that wouldn't take me 10 months (unlike the last piece I did) so here's a fun little basilisk based on a piece of medieval marginalia.

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Facial expressions meme from 2016 featuring Marigold - Part 1 - Over the eight years we made The Stoop-Gallants, we produced a prodigious amount of material for Patreon: bonus content, AUs, behind the scenes nonsense, and reams of miscellaneous art. Now that TSG has been complete for a couple years, we've decided it's past time to share this content here.

Marigold and his face, our representative of bravery and nobility, lead us off.

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Finished!!!

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May shoes, pt.2

Shoe designs for the month of January! Follow @365shoes if you want to see these as I'm posting them.

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Question

Would any of our former Patrons mind if we shared some of our old Patreon content?

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Maxigold. Mariwell?

We recently got a very nice review in the comments of our comic;

And we got inspired, so we made a thing.

Before we continue, I just want clarify that THIS IS ABSOLUTELY NOT CANON-

“It’s not a competition,” said Marigold, “and everyone knows keeping score is the death knell for any relationship, but if it was… ‘the academy slut’ is more reputation damaging than ‘dirty old man.’”

“Tuh,” said Maxwell. He was spinning a rose between his fingers and glowering into the near distance. The burble of a fountain echoed off the walls of the garden muffling, further away, the rumble of the city.

Marigold rolled his eyes and then tilted his head back to better examine the stars. “At least they think you can pull a hottie.”

“They think I’m pathetic! Sleeping with a kid half my age.”

Marigold dropped his head to shoot Maxwell a look. “ ‘Kid’? I turned twenty-five last month, babe.” 

“You look -” Maxwell broke off. “Well. You used to look a lot younger. It’s the-” He stopped again, his eyes sliding along the lines of Marigold’s profile, cheekbones drawn sharp, bright eyes shadowed by the fall of his curls.

Marigold grimaced. “Yeah. I can’t believe it took me that long to finally cut it.” He ran a hand ruefully over his close-cropped hair. “I looked like a goddamn chrysanthemum.”

“Or a-”

“Don’t you dare make the joke,” warned Marigold. “I’ll break up with you and leave you to the queen’s tender mercies.”

Maxwell smirked. “Well. It’s for the best. Sir Chrysanthemum doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.”

“Hah hah.” 

“Happy belated birthday then, I guess.”

“Thanks.” Marigold studied his fingernails. “And for what it’s worth, I sleep with guys your age - and older - all the time.”

“All the time?” The rose had finally pricked Maxwell’s fingers and he dropped it, too busy staring at Marigold to retrieve it from the ground. “Give me a break. I see those - those guys you go around with. They’re all hunks from the academy or - or burly farmer types, or -”

Marigold raised his eyebrows. “Watching my dates, are you? If I didn’t know any better, Max, I’d say you sounded jealous.” He tapped a finger to his lips. “But of me or of them…?”

“I’m not jealous!”

“You know what they say about protesting too much,” said Marigold, dropping his voice to a low purr and fluttering his eyelashes. Then, as Maxwell turned red and sputtered, he dropped the affect and slumped back on the bench again. “Oh, calm down. You’d think a professional villain would be less twitchy about a rep as a letch. Isn’t that a benefit to your vibe?”

“There’s being a villain,” growled Maxwell, “and there’s being a creep. I signed up for one, I did not sign up for the other.”

“Well, good thing you’re not a creep then,” said Marigold. “Because one, I’m not a kid half your age, two, you’re not a dirty old man, and three, we’re not actually sleeping together. And would it really be so bad as all that if we were?” He stooped and picked up the rose. “Damn, it’s all bloody, what did you do?” He frowned at the thorns and then at Maxwell’s fingers. “You’re supposed to be torturing dissidents, not your own hands.”

“I don’t torture dissidents,” said Maxwell, as Marigold took his bloodied hand and studied it more closely. 

“Well if you did, you might want to try the rose thing.” 

“No,” said Maxwell, and Marigold looked at him quizzically.

“No?”

“No,” said Maxwell. “It wouldn’t be so bad as all that.”

Marigold smiled.

-

Maxwell had never slept with a man before. To be fair, his body count - in every sense of the phrase - was embarrassingly low for someone of his status and experience, but he’d also never really considered the attractions of his own gender.

That had been before Marigold had taken his pricked fingertip into his mouth and licked the blood from it, all the while never taking surprisingly dark eyes from Maxwell’s face. That was before Marigold had undone his tunic there in the dimly lit rose garden, pulling it open over his chest and running a hand almost carelessly over hard muscle and golden skin. That was definitely before Marigold had laughed at Maxwell’s gaping mouth and moved a hand from his own chest to Maxwell’s inner thigh and then Maxwell had lost his mind completely and gone full dirty old man.

Which explained why they were now pressed side by side in Marigold’s ridiculously small bed in his ridiculously small barracks room - blessedly private, at least knights weren’t forced to have roommates - because they couldn’t even take the time to get back to the palace and Maxwell’s cold but spacious quarters with his cold but spacious bed.

It wouldn’t have stayed cold long, he thought deliriously. Things had heated up fast, starting with Marigold on his knees before Maxwell while Maxwell clutched frantically at the blankets, pillows, his own throat and, finally, Marigold’s hair. Marigold ran hot as a furnace, even hotter when he had Maxwell on all fours and clutching the flimsy headboard, his lean body covering Maxwell’s from the nape of his neck down to his - well. 

“Do you have a cigarette,” asked Maxwell hoarsely. He’d never needed a smoke more. He’d never actually smoked before, but this seemed like the time to start.

Marigold laughed. “Those things will kill you, baby.”

“I’m okay with that.”

“As long as you die happy?” Marigold winked and reached over to rummage in his bedside drawer. “I think my ex left a couple.”

Maxwell lit up, inhaled until his vision went black around the edges, and exhaled on a hacking cough.

“Hot,” said Marigold, watching him.

“Sorry,” rasped Maxwell.

“Naw, I’m serious. You’re pretty compelling when you’re out of all those lame black clothes and you have that grumpy scowl off your face and you’re writhing around on the bed begging me to give it to you.” He grinned as Maxwell had another coughing fit. “You like it a bit rough, huh?”

“Never speak of this to anyone,” said Maxwell, when he could speak again.

“Layers on layers,” said Marigold lazily. “We’re supposed to be in bed together, my darling.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Lying that we’re fucking…lying that we’re not fucking…lying about how much you liked it… who can keep it all straight?”

“Are you going to blackmail me?”

Marigold’s lazy smile dropped. “You’re the villain, not me,” he said, and sat up to grab for his clothes. 

“No, wait,” said Maxwell, reaching for him. “I didn’t mean that. I’m in - Bad habits. Look who I spend all my time with. Look who I am, Mari. Can you blame me for being out of practice trusting people not to be bastards?”

Marigold paused, letting Maxwell hook an arm around his waist and pull him back into bed. “You’ve never called me Mari before.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever called you anything before,” muttered Maxwell. “Horrible kid from the village, maybe.”

“I told you,” said Marigold, kicking at his ankles as Maxwell dropped the cigarette into a cup of water and rolled over on top of him, “I’m not a kid.”

“Yeah,” said Maxwell. “Show me again?”

-

“You good?”

“Mmg.”

“You need another cigarette?”

“Mmnng.”

“You want to go again?”

“Give me five minutes.”

-

“Okay,” said Marigold finally. “Okay, seriously. Verisimilitude is great and all that, and if I tell my commander I’m late because I was getting railed it will fit with the ruse and whatever, but if I’m any later he might just court-martial me.”

“I could pull some strings with the judge.”

“Don’t waste your political capital on me, Max, you’ve got little enough of it as it is. I’m going to my shift.” Marigold slid out of bed, rolled out his neck, and started rummaging around for his uniform. 

Maxwell inhaled heavily on his third cigarette and watched him. “When can I see you again?”

“Next Friday date night, obvs.” Marigold pulled his chainmail shirt over his head and belted his tunic. He shoved his heels down into his boots and grabbed his sword from the rack by the door. He turned, once, to look at Maxwell, still ass-naked and tangled in the sheets. “Put that thing out before you set the bed on fire, won’t you?” 

He blew Maxwell a kiss and was gone.

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Question

Would any of our former Patrons mind if we shared some of our old Patreon content?

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Continuing the catalogue of random objects found in my house.

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Art trade with @retroillustrates ! This is their OC, Voyn.

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Shoe For Getting Tetanus

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Scanning my work like a real adult instead of just taking a picture

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Making my followers watch in real time as I re-learn a medium I haven't touched in 10+ years

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I took my portable easel out of its case for the first time in years and the case immediately crumbled apart in my hands lol 💀 But the easel is still in great shape! Anyway here is a painting of hand soap

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your pinned post seems to indicate you have hair now 🤔

it's true! I look very boring and normal now

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Avalonia Ruin: Episode 10

First Episode | Next Episode

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I decided that I wasn't really happy with the comic in black and white so I went back and coloured it (this is partly why there hasn't been a new episode in a long time).

I'll also be posting episode 10 tomorrow!

Avalonia Ruin: Episode 1

First Episode | Next Episode

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Chromatic Geometry Pom-Pom Boot