#I get art productive when I'm sick

[jessfandrawer]

Inspired by Rain On Me by Lady Gaga and Ariana Grande

Rain is such an important motif for Ichigo, but it also appears with Orihime, so it wasn't hard to associate this song with them.🥰 Stylistic cues came from the music video. I wanted to incorporate the falling knife thing too, but it made the composition too busy (for me personally).

Also had computer troubles and ended up needing to get the non-free Sketchbook Pro (my favorite drawing app). This was a good opportunity to try out their new brushes!

Sans text:

[emeritusemeritus]

Art of Deception [Fred Weasley x Reader]

Title: Art of Deception.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Gryffindor!Reader

Timeline: Non-specified.

Summary: Cormac McLaggen won’t take no for an answer, insert fake dating trope with Fred Weasley.

Warnings: Fake dating? Mentions of Cormac, he needs his own warning. Kissing. Implied derogatory comments about wealth, status and red hair.

"Okay, emergency, for the next five minutes you're my boyfriend, okay Weasley?" You say in a rush, sliding in next to Fred on the common room sofa, almost out of breath as you run in, narrowly avoiding your pursuer.

"Can do, come here" he says matter-of-factly as he pulls you into his lap without a second thought.

"Not even questioning it?" You ask curiously at his unquestioning willingness to go along with your silly scheme.

"Nope," he says simply, rubbing his hand across your back as you sit across his lap.

The worn fabric of his jumper feels soft against your skin as you lean into him just a little, enjoying the feeling of being so close to him. You flinch a little as the portrait covered door swings open, knowing exactly who would be entering. Fred must have felt your slight flinch and flicks his gaze to you, his hand still rubbing your back. You feel his long fingers bump into the band of your bra strap and he lingers only a moment, fingers hovering over the clasp before swiftly changing the direction of his absent stroking.

"Oh, y/n, didn't think I'd find you here," Cormac says, running a hand through his curly locks which don't even move thanks to all the product in them.

"In her boyfriend's lap?" Fred says, sounding possessive, playing the role perfectly.

"Boyfriend?" Cormac asks, eyes widening at the realisation that you were sat in someone's lap, and that person being Fred Weasley.

"Yep," he says with a wicked smirk, pulling you righter to him as his arm snakes around your waist.

"Didn't think gingers where your thing," Cormac says, posing on the side of the couch where he leans trying to look seductive but failing miserably.

"This one is," you shrug, gesturing to Fred who sends a sarcastic smirk towards McLaggen.

"Look I've made my intentions clear but you keep playing hard to get," Cormac says smugly, clearly not reading the room. "I'm top of the class in charms, keeper for the quidditch team, perfect student record and"

"Narcissistic," you add.

"A Prat?" Fred interjects at the same time.

Cormac ignores your words entirely, fixing you with a smarmy smile, "I'm a Mclaggen, why would you want to parade round with a Weasley when you could go out with me?"

The word 'Weasley' was said like a curse word with just a hint less sneering than Malfoy's way of saying it; but with just the same tone of condescension and derogation.

His verbal attack on the Weasley name did not sit right with you one bit and you couldn't hold back any longer, not when he was offending your friends.

"Because, unlike you McLaggen, Fred actually has a sense of humour, doesn't have a face like a troll and doesn't make me want to be sick when he opens his mouth," you say, trying to hold back your own sneer.

"But," he tries to say but you sarcastically smirk back at him, not willing to let him argue your statements.

"You want more? Okay," you snark, "He's a beater in the quidditch team so you're bragging is moot, he's kind and don't even get me started on how knee-shakingly tall he is. I can't think of anymore ways to tell you that I'm not attracted to you Cormac."

"So you're sticking with the Weasel then?" Cormac says with a huff after a few moments silence, staring you down.

"Looks like it to me," you shrug, choosing to ignore his turn of phrase.

"And me," Fred says harshly before turning you to face him, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw as he presses his lips to yours, pulling you in to a surprisingly passionate kiss. It takes you a second for the shock to wear off but you quickly kiss him back, no longer caring about Cormac or anything else around you. You pull apart eventually, discovering Cormac had left and you looked up at Fred with a sudden shyness at your actions.

"Knee-shaking Eh?" Fred teases, his hand moving from your hair to wrap around a strand of hair on your shoulder.

"Shut up Weasel," you snarked jokingly, nudging him with your shoulder, mirroring Cormac's apparent nickname for the jokester.

"I'm just saying, you did make some very good points there about me," he smirks, still holding you firmly in his lap. "Almost as if you had them prepared."

"Oh shove off," you laughed, nudging his arm around you so that he'd let you up, but it only seemed to fuel him to hold you ever tighter, not letting you escape. "I could have been describing anyone."

"I could describe you too you know," he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows and you push him once again to get off of you but he just laughs.

"Go on then, I'm annoying and sarcastic and," you say rolling your eyes already at the anticipated sarcasm about to fall from his lips.

"Funny and mischievous, more talented than I've ever seen anyone be at potions and devastatingly beautiful," he says, making you flick your gaze to him in surprise. You'd expected him to follow it with a joke or say it with pure sarcasm but nothing came, he simply looked down at you with honesty in his eyes and a smile tugging at his lips.

"You know, I could get used to having you in my lap, fake girlfriend or maybe not so fake girlfriend."

[luvkyu]

heart stop ( jung sungchan ) part one

sungchan x male reader

sungchan finally talks to his crush !!

content : 1.9k words, fluff, mentions of nudity/mature themes, uni au, gym bro!sungchan x artist!reader

( a/n ) PART ONE OF THE COLLAB W @jaemmphilia !!! just a heads up - part two is nsfw !! so pls take that into account before you start reading <3

part two

"do you think y/n's into guys?"

"huh??" eunseok sputtered at the sudden question, basically choking on his food.

sungchan stifled a snicker, his ears growing a light shade of red. he stared down at the chopsticks in his hand with a love sick smile. eunseok cleared his throat as he watched the other twirl the utensils between his fingers.

"are we talking about taro's friend from his art class?" eunseok asked.

"yeah. i think i have a small crush on him."

"a crush on who?" shotaro suddenly chimed in as he sat with them in the cafeteria.

"y/n," sungchan answered a bit shyly.

"l/n???" shotaro's brows were raised in shock.

sungchan looked at eunseok, as if for guidance, before turning back to shotaro and saying a quiet "yes".

shotaro thought for a moment, then nodded in approval.

"you two would be cute as fuck together," he said before taking a bite of his lunch.

sungchan smiled at the idea of himself with y/n. he leaned over toward his friend eagerly, "do you know if he's gay?"

"how should i know?.. but i'm about to meet him at the art studio to work together if you wanna come," shotaro offered.

"really??"

"sure, why not. we're just taking some time to work on new oil paintings, it's not an actual class or anything so you can come along."

sungchan nodded happily at the idea.

"what are you gonna do if he's straight?" eunseok asked teasingly.

"cry," sungchan muttered in response.

y/n stared at the canvas in front of him. his creativity was having a hard time flowing today. maybe he was overworking, or maybe it was just an off day. either way, it was annoying. he was supposed to be productive today. instead, a blank canvas was mocking him while his hands fidgeted with a paintbrush.

he sighed and set his brush down against his easel.

"what's wrong, babe?"

y/n looked up to see shotaro strutting into the studio, followed by a taller boy he hadn't met before.

"i told you not to call me that," y/n scolded while rolling his eyes.

"you're right. sorry, honey."

y/n turned in his seat to face his friend better, "that's just worse."

shotaro chuckled. as he sat down at his own easel, he grabbed another seat for the friend he brought along. y/n refused to embarrass himself by looking at the stranger for too long, but the small glance he did get was enough for him to conclude that the male was drop dead gorgeous.

"oh, y/n! this is my friend sungchan. he wanted to tag along cause he has no life outside of classes and the gym. sungchan, this is y/n!"

sungchan glared daggers at shotaro, before looking back to y/n with a wide smile.

"hi! nice to meet you. i've seen you around campus a little," sungchan greeted.

"really? i think i've seen you some too."

sungchan nodded, almost giddy at that answer. silence fell on them as shotaro set up his canvas and y/n looked through his paint colors just to have something to do.

"wow, you guys are great at this," shotaro said sarcastically, mainly to piss off sungchan.

"i'm terrible at talking to people, leave me alone," y/n defended with a small laugh.

sungchan watched y/n lean against his easel, resting his chin against his palm in defeat. he looked so perfect, even when feeling dejected.

"is something wrong?" sungchan asked. y/n looked at him again. he was a little surprised sungchan was even asking.

"ah.. i just feel kinda drained. i'm having a hard time working on this, to be honest."

"take a break," shotaro chimed in.

"but i just started."

"take a longer break. we've had a lot of assignments back to back lately, go rest for the day."

y/n thought about it for a moment. he sighed and nodded at the idea before starting to pack up his supplies.

shotaro turned back to sungchan, gesturing silently toward y/n in hopes that his friend would get the hint. sungchan looked at him in confusion. shotaro, in turn, huffed at his cluelessness. he pulled his phone out and went to his messages.

taro :

BRO, GO.

ask him out, go 'rest' together 🛏️

sungchan rolled his eyes at the texts. he gave the male another stink eye before typing a response.

sung :

I DIDNT WANNA TALK TO HIM JUST TO GET LAID

taro :

but it is part of the reason right

sung :

osaki shotaro istg

taro :

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT BUT STILL ASK HIM OUT, U HAVE THE PERFECT WINDOW RIGHT HERE

sungchan looked up from his phone, biting his lip as anxiety shot through his body.

y/n finished packing up his bag and showed the two of them a tired smile.

"i'll see you guys later. it was nice to meet you, sungchan."

sungchan nodded and smiled back, now watching his crush exit the studio. his smile fell as he turned back around to see shotaro giving him a disappointed frown.

"you're a dumbass, sung."

"sungchan!"

sungchan looked up as he took a drink of his water, seeing eunseok and shotaro walking toward him.

"hey guys," he greeted while getting up from the bench press. he wiped around his face with a small towel as his friends came closer to him.

"did you just finish up?" shotaro asked.

"yeah, i'm gonna head back to the dorm now."

"boo, we could've worked out together."

sungchan rolled his eyes. "it's a good thing you still have each other then," he teased, patting shotaro's shoulder as he slung his gym bag over his back.

"hey, how'd it go with y/n yesterday? you ask him out?" eunseok asked before the other could leave.

"no, i-"

"he chickened out," shotaro teased.

sungchan sighed, but nodded. "i was too nervous."

"well we just saw him sitting outside by the campus arboretum if you wanna go try again," eunseok said.

"really?"

eunseok nodded, "go for it."

sungchan smiled a thanks and grabbed his water bottle before finally departing.

"..i doubt y/n is straight," shotaro mumbled as he and eunseok waved him goodbye.

"oh, me too," eunseok agreed.

sungchan began walking in the direction of the arboretum, looking around for the boy that had been on his mind way too much lately.

finally, he spotted y/n on a bench sketching a few flowers. he took a deep breath and walked over to join him.

"hey y/n!"

y/n looked up from his sketchbook, almost choking on thin air. sungchan's muscle shirt didn't hide a thing, and his slightly messy hair and tall stature worked well in his favor. with the way y/n was staring at him, or practically gawking, sungchan was now pretty certain y/n was attracted to men.

y/n quickly cleared his throat and averted his eyes. he looked down at his sketchbook, then back up strictly to sungchan's face.

"hi," he said quietly, "what're you doing out here?"

"was just on my way home and thought i'd take a walk through here. it's really pretty."

y/n nodded happily and took a look around. "yeah, i love being out here."

"can i sit with you?"

y/n nodded almost instantly. he moved over a bit to give the other more room on the bench. sungchan sat and sighed, actually very much enjoying the fresh air. he leaned back for a moment and let the sun wash over his face. one arm was hanging off the back of the bench, while the other raked a hand through his messy hair.

y/n was in awe, needless to say.

"so what're you drawing?"

"just some flower studies," y/n answered. "i wanted to add some flowers to my next painting so i'm just practicing a little."

"is it okay if i ask to see?" sungchan asked cautiously.

"oh, sure! you can look through the whole sketchbook, i don't mind. it's mostly random sketches."

sungchan nodded eagerly and took the book from y/n's hands, making sure to brush against his fingers just a little bit. he smiled to himself, now knowing the effect he had on y/n.

sungchan flipped through the pages delicately. he was trying not to crinkle or smudge anything, especially the ones done in pencil. y/n was right though - the sketches were pretty random. from people, to small household items, to cloud formations.

it was when sungchan found a more interesting page that he stopped flipping through. the sketches showed a naked man in two different poses, one leaning against what looked like a washroom counter, and the other laying on a bed with a messy sheet draped just over a couple parts of himself. sungchan looked up with wide eyes.

"oh, that's um," y/n didn't know whether to be proud or embarrassed. he was somehow both. "that was just a guy i had a thing with a couple months ago."

"these are amazing, y/n," sungchan praised. he continued flipping through, though his mind was still on the nude sketches.

"thank you," y/n blushed a bit as sungchan finally got to the end of the book.

"i really like the nude ones. you draw people really well," sungchan complimented while closing the book. when he looked up again, his face was closer to y/n's than he thought. his eyes instantly shifted to the male's lips, it was as if there was a magnet between them.

y/n could hear his heartbeat in his ears. sungchan was even more beautiful up close, and he was growing more attracted to him by the second.

sungchan lightly cleared his throat after a moment, trying not to stare at the pair of lips he so desperately wanted to kiss. making y/n uncomfortable was the last thing he wanted.

"are you going to the bonfire party tonight?" sungchan asked.

"i dunno, my friend invited me but i'm not usually into parties."

"well, i think you should go."

y/n met sungchan's eyes again, "hm? why?"

sungchan blushed. he didn't mean to blatantly give away that he wanted y/n there, but he might as well roll with it now.

"cause i'll have a much better time if i get to see you," sungchan answered with entirely pink cheeks. he could tell y/n was a blushing mess as well, despite how confident he tried to seem.

with a sigh, y/n looked up at the clouds. "is this how you pick up all your guys?"

sungchan laughed lightly, "actually no, my heart is pounding more than it ever has, i think." he let out a large exhale with this, which triggered more laughter between the two.

y/n found it endearing how obviously nervous sungchan was. here was this hunk of a man trying to hit on him, but he was so jittery and smitten that it really just made him adorable. y/n smiled as he thought about it. his eyes met the other's again while nodding, "alright, i'll be there."

sungchan's smile quickly grew at his crush's decision. he nodded and started getting up.

"i'll see you in a little while then," he said while giving y/n's head a gentle pat, his hand lingering against his hair. y/n nodded and watched him begin to walk away. he was speechless as he stared after sungchan. let's just say, the view from the back was just as good as the view from the front.

taglist ★! :

@kssyivo @jaemmphilia @vkooksupremacy @haocovr @astrozuya

[feathernotes]

Hello! My name is Krispy, and I’m the co-creator of the webcomic Ghost Junk Sickness (along with @spacerocketbunny​) It's story time!

GJS is a webcomic published by Hiveworks and features two bounty hunters with an unstable dynamic who are pushed to pursue the deadly bounty dubbed the Ghost The current iteration of GJS is about 9 years old (and wrapping up next year!) It’s been an incredible journey full of ups and downs. We’ve learned SO MUCH creating this comic, and I wanted to share some of it’s origins with you all in hopes of inspiring more folks to take chances, make mistakes, and get messy- and make that comic!

The origin of Ghost Junk Sickness came from our love for Magic Knight Rayearth and Final Fantasy 7. Vahn, the protagonist of GJS, was basically a mash up of Hikaru and Cloud from those two series. The very first version of this story has unfortunately been destroyed, and this map is the only piece I have left of that world. Character art still exists though, and it was pretty funny to see how obvious we were with our inspirations at the time.

The original attempt at the story was called Crew, and my sister Space and I worked on it in 2002-2004. We sort of got lost in our own ideas after that, and weren’t as focus on making the comic (now lost). A few years later, I decided to try my hand at it and it looked like this:

This was all done on low quality paper, whichever I could find at the time and some pencil crayons. This attempt was over 600 pages long and had a pretty random story plot, much like the first version. I could not tell you what it was about haha 😅

My second attempt (then called Divine Ace) I wanted to look more 'traditional manga' and kept with just inks and tried my darndest to tone on the computer (it never worked out). This one lasted over 400 pages, and was more allinged with my liking to edgy action anime and games at the time. It was also Trigger's first appearance!

After experimenting and eventually wanting to change- I started to work with Space again, and we collaborated in full on our first fancomic for TF2 called "Be Efficient, Be Polite." It was a good lesson on how we could coordinate our shared skill sets and plan out who did what as far as the whole process of comics go.

All of these comics (save for the very first lost version) were hosted on DA the day we got our hands on a scanner. It was our first taste on being 'webcomic creators' back in the day, and it was very fun! We didn't much care for readers, only the process of completion at the time, so a page done was always a victory worthy to be celebrated (and back then, we had more time to make pages!)

And so, as the years went by and we decided to move on from our fandom roots, Space and I went back to the Crew/Divine Ace project and redesigned and overhauled the entirety of it. (You can see the full evolution here) We wanted to re-asses what the story, comic, and characters meant to us, and how we could convey some pretty important ideas and concepts to our potential readers. From that, Ghost Junk Sickness was born, and began pre-production in 2013.

Years after, we find ourselves reflecting on how much we've learned from the process of going ahead and diving in head first. There were certainly many iterations and years it took to get where we are today, but realising that it all began that day Space and I decided to scribble some pretty mediocire comics in our homework books and papers. Because that is the beauty of comics- The many skill sets, the hats, and challenges that come along with creating them. And how much we've become better at so many things along the way. So if you read this and feel nervous about diving head first into your first comic, I'm here to re-assure you that things will feel tough, but exciting. Things will feel really hard but amazing when you're getting your story out in front of you with such an incredible medium. Webcomics will always be my favourite because of how accessible it is to any skill set. And know in your heart of hearts that there ARE people out that that LOVE to see growth, they love to see the progression of your journey. So get out there and start creating that comic that's occupied your brain for so long, and start breathing that life into your OCs and your world. The only way is up with webcomics, and the only way to start is just by creating now.

[nebmia]

Reviewing every rpg book on my shelf: 1, Dungeon Crawl Classics

Everything about this game is absolutely dripping with bonkers maximalist bombast that makes me excited to play. To start with book itself is nearly 2 inches thick. Is that practical? No! does it feel like you've got an ancient tome full of roleplaying possibilities? Absolutely.

In a world tending towards minimalism and 'polished' production its so good to have somthing thats just big and fun and unapologetic about not being what it is.

DCC's dice are a microcosm of everything great about it. Not only do they come in shapes they never taught you about in maths class but they also all come with a fun little bonus. One of my sets comes with a stat block for a monster, while the other has a ridiculous table of reality warping effects on which you roll ALL the dice in the set, and inevitably send your campaign careening off into madness. (and it has a frame story about a stoner wizard in a magic van).

And then there's the actual contents of the book, which is probably about 80% spells and ridiculous tables. And the spells are just so good. Each one takes up a a least a full page on average and gives a range of results according to how well you roll, from 'it missfires and things go horribly wrong' at the bottom, through 'it does about what you would expect' in the middle result ranges, to 'actually, this is almost too much' if you manage to get a roll in the 30s.

Alongside being sick as hell, this also has a satisfying effect of keeping low level spells relevent and interesting as their effects scale with the strength of the caster on a variety of axis.

related to spells is the 'spell duel' procedure. I have no idea how well it runs at the table, but the idea that when two (or more) wizards fight their spells can interact and you can use any appropriate spell to try and counter another spell is so increadibly compelling.

Ok, enough gushing about vibes. what about actually playing? So far what I have run is the 'level-0 funnel', which is probably what you have heard about if you have heard anything about DCC. The premise is simple: randomly generate 2-4 level-0 peasants for each player, send them into a dungeon, and then take whoever survives and level them up to become your characters for a campaign.

Not only does these lead to much hilarity as a mob of townsfolk bungle their way through danger but also really fun problem solving as the players work out how best to navigate problems with a shoehorn, a bundle of wood and a live chicken.

Specifically, what I have run is Sailors on the Starless Sea, which is correctly recognised as THE introductory module to use. Its a nice sequence of somewhat open investigation followed by a excellend sequence of bombastic set pieces, all the while giving the players lots of scope to come at things ininteresting ways. It can get a bit unwiedly trying to manage such large number of characters when they do run into combat but if you plan ahead a bit and use various tricks (it would be useful is more of that advice was in the book rather than coming from forums) it is manageable.

And to return to vibes one last time: the art in these books is just so good. We could not be further from the slightly stiff generic highly rendered fantasy art of wotc era d&d. Its all fantastically old school fantasy, so full of character, and just the right amount of rough around the edges. My only slight complaint is that this does include a little too much of old school fantasy art's treatment of women than I would like...There are still prenty of sensibly dressed women and i'm not about to decree that no sexy fantasy women are allowed but the dial is a little further in a direction of objectification that I would like.

[hrts4hanniehae]

clutch || seven

there are written parts :)

note that the timeline or educations may not add up but just ignore it because i don't have the brain power to sync up THIRTEEN + 1 's education schedules

sorry for the late chpt. I was really sick so i tried my best on this chpt.

warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating & sex & liquid products of sex, death, mental health, horrible sister, entitled sister

she was careless. 1 day of happiness was enough for her to forget the problem at hand. work had been enjoyable and there were discussions of displaying her art. she had time between her shifts to work on he last of her commissions. of course it would be ruined by her stalker.

the moment he had read her tweet, he was out the door and going to find her.

he saw e/n lurking around. bastard.

when he did, she was cowering in the dressing room. wordlessly, he wrapped his jacket around her before handing her his cap and a mask.

"wear this." - wonwoo

"thanks, wonwoo... i owe you one." - yn

they made it out with no issues. e/n was gone but who knew when he'd be back?

no matter how much she tried to enjoy her dinner with wonwoo, she couldn't help but feel eyes on her. but wherever she looked, there was no one.

wonwoo watched as yn's typing got even more agitated.

what the hell is going on... is she playing speed tetris or something...

when she finally slammed her phone face down onto the table, he finally asked her what happened.

"family argument. Now I have to bring a very attractive guy to my family reunion next sunday. and I also have to close my art deal by next wednesday and have an auction by thursday. great." - yn

"but why?" - wonwoo

"my parents found out about e/n and blamed me. my younger sister played a victim angel again so i snapped and called her out for being a brat. so now i have to one-up her in fame and a partner." - yn

"any ideas of who you're going to ask?" - wonwoo, crossing his fingers. wait why am i crossing his fingers?

"if any of your friends can help me, that would be great. i'll probably ask mingyu or dino since they're single and famous." - yn

"i'm single and famous" - wonwoo, whispers under his breath

"sorry what did you say?" - yn, leaning in to hear him from across the table

"i said, i'm single and famous. i'll go with you." - wonwoo

a pause. subtle panic. a smile.

"really? oh my days, wonwoo. you're my saviour. i LOVE you. you have the fame AND the face card. chaeyoung is going to quake and crumble!" - yn

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ💓ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ badum.

well. he doesn't know she's with me now. be it make-believe.

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

synopsis: wonwoo is a popular streamer known for his incredible gaming skills and good looks. He turned heads. but he hates the attention. he just wants to play games and earn money. one day he receives a letter. his apartment’s rent has almost doubled. no warnings at all. his current paycheck from streaming can’t shoulder those bills. he has no choice but to rent out his spare room. to who? a fresh art university graduate who has… 1. a stable job ✅ 2. talent for art and sculpting ✅ 3. many friends ❌ 4. social anxiety ✅ 5. no filter ✅ when his iconic cat logo gets copystriked, she comes to the rescue with a new logo for him. when his apartment’s walls start peeling, she fixes it. whatever he used to struggle with… the empty space... was now filled by her. so what does he *last player standing* do when her ex *enemy spotted* tries to take her back? heh. *clutch* he clutches.

inspired by wonwoo's gam3bo1 streams, falling into your smile & gogo squid (has hints of valorant)

pairing: streamer!jeon wonwoo x fem!artist!reader (ft. jeongcheol, soonhoon, junhao, seoksoo, verkwan)

genre: fluff, comfort, slowburn, comfort, pining, bestfriend!minghao

warnings: stalker ex, toxic ex, mentions of abuse, guns (game), cursing, hate comments, panic attacks

started: 28.12.23

ended: ?

taglist: join from my masterlist

main masterlist

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tags! @fairyofhour @megseungmin @sun-daddy-yoriichi @woozixo @euphoric-univers @christinewithluv @haowonbins @ocyeanicc @asyre @cynthiaaax13 @superhoshisvt @bangantokchy @chimmy-bts @angelarin @daisawa @writingbarnes @jeonghansshitester

@belladaises @wonwootakemyheart @wonwooz1 @luchiet @kookssecret @caratsland @peachescreamandcrumble @thepoopdokyeomtouched @isabellah29 @leah-rose03 @yandere-stories @coupshour @heesbees @hamji-hae @hyuckxtagram

[gaybananabread]

Hii! I hope I'm doing this right 😅

The amazing digital circus, Lee Jax! Ler ragatha!

Banana,oranges,lemons please!! :3

Absolutely fine if your not able to do it but just a request :D

(oh no I forgot something 😅😭 Can the most focused on spot be the ears please!! Super sorry!)

Fruit(s): Bananas, Oranges, Lemons

You’re all good, Anon! Jax is such an ass and I’m here for it (⁠ ⁠´⁠◡⁠‿⁠◡⁠`⁠). I’ve been pretty sick this week, so I’m sorry if there’s any mistakes or quality issues (ミ⁠●⁠﹏⁠☉⁠ミ). Fair warning, the bunny man is quite the prick in this because I like bickering. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Jax

Ler: Ragatha

Summary: Jax is being a total brat, sassing and picking on all the other characters. Ragatha has enough, giving him a lesson on manners he won’t soon forget.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

The Amazing Digital Circus was…an interesting place, to say the least. If one could get over the fact that a likely-sentient AI entity ran a digital fairgrounds that nobody could ever escape from, their minds twisting and going down a deep spiral of paranoia and uncertainty until they lost their sanity, it was kinda cool. That first part was a pretty big hang-up for most, though.

Jax, however, had grown pretty used to the madness. He had his wit and sarcasm as a coping method. Why worry about your own misfortunes when you can laugh at someone else’s? The rabbit took every opportunity he could to quip, snicker and poke fun at his fellow characters. He got on everyone’s nerves. 

His antics really got to one being in particular: Ragatha. 

She felt as if she could tear his ears off some days. Jax would always bully the others, but he had been horrible that day. Pomni was still getting used to things; the poor thing didn’t need another reason to fret. His jokes were only putting everyone on edge, and that jester was already on a narrow ledge… It needed to stop.

“Wow Gangle, I didn’t know you could actually do something productive. Color me shocked.” Jax hovered over her, looking down at the ribbon being’s drawing. It was some sort of fan art, though he couldn’t name the media. It didn’t look that accurate, and he wasn’t that much of a nerd before he put the headset on… 

Before she could think to be shocked at the half-praise, he quickly put the dickery in his words. “Shame it’s too trashy to make out whatever you drew. This place is enough of an eye-sore as is.” 

The tears on Gangle’s mask rippled as she sniffed, trying not to let his mean words get to her. It didn’t really work; she’d put a lot of effort into that… She clutched the drawing to her chest as she ran away, her mouth line quivering. Jax just chuckled, not really caring that she ran off. It was just a joke. Not his fault she couldn’t take it.

Ragatha put her hands on her hips, marching over to Jax. He rolled his eyes, preparing for the lecture. “JAX! What is wrong with you?! Gangle worked really hard on that! You…you need to quit being such a jerky prick!”

The wide smirk stuck, though his eyes widened slightly. It was hardly a solid insult, though coming from such a typically passive-aggressive person, it was surprising. Didn’t know she had it in her…heh.

Jax’s snarky smirk returned, his eyes forming amused crescents. Hello, new source of entertainment… “Relax, dollface! Crybaby’s fine. Just havin’ another pity party.”

She scoffed, letting her typically suppressed temper show. “Seriously? You told her that those amazing drawings were trashy! Why are you such a bratty bully?” Her tone was as curious as it was disappointed. Eugh…

“I’m not a bully. I just say what I see; not my fault you babies can’t handle the truth.” Okay, maybe he was going a bit further than he normally did. He was bored, and the banter was actually amusing. As long as he danced on the right side of the line, he’d be fine. “Like you. I mean, I get this place knows our minds or something, but it really nailed you. Trashy scraps and frayed yarn.” 

This little…ugh! He was bringing out a side of Ragatha she didn’t know she still had. “Oh really? And what’s that make you, cotton tail? A bargain bin, carnival prize knock-off?”

Jax actually chuckled; finally, someone fun. “Nah, I’m just better. Taller, good-looking, not made of sewn together *boink*. I’d say it did me right.” He smirked, leaning in and getting to her level. “You found a nice 1830’s girl yet? They’re all about raggedy scraps.”

Oh, that was it! She glared, her upper lip curling as she reached for him. The lanky jerk leaned away just in time, taking off in the opposite direction. Okay, so it was possible to make her mad…totally worth it. 

Ragatha chased after him, going over revenge plans in her mind. She normally tried to avoid conflict, but Jax was out of control. Rabbit stew seemed delicious, even if it would only be a simulation… 

Jax tried to find literally any not-obvious spot to hide, but everything was ginormous and solid, a vengeful Ragatha on his heels. He just ran for his life. He might’ve made it, too, if he hadn’t tripped on something. “What the-” He went down, face-planting on the bouncy floor. Gloink…of course. He could’ve sworn it smirked at him, even though they had no mouths.

The doll was on him in seconds, quickly pinning him to the floor. For fabric and stuffing, she was pretty strong. Before he could think to fight back, his arms were pinned above his head, the girl straddling him and blocking his every escape. “W-woah doll! At least buy me dinner first!” That one was kinda stupid, but it was there.

The smoldering glare that comment received finally shut him up, if only for a moment. So many ideas, so little time… But she couldn’t do anything to hurt him. One, it wasn’t physically possible, and two, she was better than that. He still needed some kind of shove in the right direction… Ohohohooo, that’s perfect.

“I think you need to learn some hard lessons, Jax. Respect for your friends, and when to shut up.” The tone of her voice was surprisingly playful, even if it had a serious edge. He didn’t know whether to be scared or relieved. 

He wasn’t sure what she was up to. That is, until he felt one of her mitten-esque hands on his stomach, wiggling into the furry surface. Unable to bite his lip, giggles slipped past his defenses, greeting the smug doll. “W-whahat the *bloink* ahare you dohohoing?!” 

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m showing you what happens when you’re a snarky dork.” Ragatha smirked, keeping his hands pinned firmly above his head. “W-whehen dihid you gehehet strohohohong?!”

She tsked, trying not to take offense to that. “You need a filter, Jax. Apparently Caine’s isn’t enough. My way is a bit more…hands-on.” Ragatha went to town on his belly, digging her fabric fingers into his midsection. 

Squealing, twisting and turning, Jax tried anything to escape. He might’ve had the height advantage, but when it came to strength and endurance, he was surprisingly out-matched. Also, apparently very ticklish. Shocks across the board.

Jax kicked his feet, the pads thumping against the floor. She cooed, teasing him further. “Aww, guess you really do live up to your character, Thumper.”

The tickling wasn’t even the worst part, though it did come in a close second. It was the teases. He honestly didn’t think she had it in her, but *sproing* he was wrong. Ragatha squeezed his hip, making him jolt and squeal. “R-RAHAhagathaha!” Okay, make that a tie.

His laughter, to Ragatha, was honestly adorable. Who knew a jerk like him could be so ticklish, much less have a laugh like that. It was bright, bubbly and uncontrollable. Hearing her friends laugh, no matter how rude, was something special. She could listen to it all day, though she didn’t quite plan on going that far. 

While the silliness wasn’t hurting him, his pride was being battered to bits. No matter how much he wriggled and writhed under her, he couldn’t manage to break her hold or knock her off. Beyond that, she just had to keep exploring his spots. “Youhuhu lihittle- GYAAAHAHA! NAHAT THEHEHERE!” Like that one.

Ragatha's eyes widened as she rubbed the base of his ear, not expecting the spot to incite such a reaction. She wasn’t complaining, though. “Geez, Jax. These floppy ears are so sensitive! I have got to tell the others.” The doll switched between each ear, making sure neither felt left out. They twitched and flopped, but couldn’t avoid her skilled hand. 

Even though he was the most prideful of all the characters, her tickling was really pushing his limits; he just couldn’t take any more. Abandoning his ego for a moment, he cried out. “O-OHOHOKAHAY! IHI’M SOHAHAHARRY! P-PLEHEHEASE NO MOHOHORE!” 

She took that as her cue to quit, releasing his arms and climbing off him. The rabbit man immediately curled into himself, giggling like a toddler. She did notice, however, that he was still wiggling slightly, his closed eyes moving as if he had a twitching nose. He was clearly happy, though she bet he’d never admit it out loud.

“Y-youhuhu…youhu’re dehehead!” The threat would’ve been a lot more menacing if he didn’t look and sound like he’d had the time of his life. “Uh-huh, sure. Just try to be nicer, okay Giggles?” Ragatha pat his head, walking away and going to find Gangle. Knowing her, she would need similar treatment, though for very different reasons. 

Jax took deep and giggly breaths as he tried to calm himself. That was…wow. He didn’t even think stimulation like that was possible in the Circus. Then again, Caine did say the only thing he couldn’t control were their minds. How his mind felt right then…he’d rather not talk about it. Her plan had worked; he’d definitely be thinking about that encounter for a while. Maybe not for the intended reasons, though…

[elionwriter]

Sherlock Holmes the Awakened: a Review

(SPOILERS AHEAD)

Sorry, sorry, sorry, but I just NEED to talk about this game! I have been a Frogwares Holmes fan since the very beginning and 'The Awakened' was always among my favourite titles. Not to mention one of the games that had scared the wits out of me. So I have to speak about the Remake now.

First and foremost, I think it needs to be reiterated that this game was made DURING THE FU****G INVASION OF UKRAINE! During such dark times, the team kept working on this. I would have supported this game even just for this reason alone.

Now, let's be honest: Frogwares never had the most marvelous graphics nor the most polished of gameplays and this entry is not an exception. I still feel the map system is a bit difficult to navigate (I may be an idiot, but I had the same issue with Chapter 1) but I really appreciated the added help the game gives you when you're recreating a scene, letting you know which passage you got wrong. Last game I found myself changing everything trying to hit the right combination so I really liked this fix.

This needs to be said: the game doesn't feel under any shape or form a product for a new fan. Everything from dialogues to game mechanics sort of take for granted that you've at least played 'chapter one'. Honestly? I'm ok with this, I hate having to always go through nearly identical tutorial stages for games I know inside out (like Pokémon) and I believe that most of not all people who are going to get this game ARE old fans!

I wasn't originally a big fan of the new Holmes and Watson models when the last game came out but....I dunno, they have grown on me. I find myself liking them now for, I suppose, no other reason than 'they are very expressive' and 'I've gotten used to them'. I think it's gotten to the point that these might be my favourite models of the two to date. Please ignore how fickle I am! (In honesty, just to draw a similar parallel, when Roger Craig Smith was first announced as Sonic's voice I hated it and now he's my fav Sonic v. actor)

This game has something.....compared to its predecessor, that makes it less scary. I can't really put my finger on it, but I distinctly remember the feeling of claustrophobia building in me when I was in the Black Edelweiss. Or the sheer jumpscare I got when the sacrificed American detective on the altar had tentacles coming out of it and severing his head making it roll to the ground. I remember almost not wanting to paddle the rowboat under the tree of hanging men in the Bayou. I remember how viscerally sick I felt at the lighthouse by all the gore and blood depicted. This time round.....I just didn't. I'm honestly not sure why this didn't hit me nearly as hard as its 2006 predecessor did!

And talking about comparisons, one thing I'm a bit disappointed they didn't grab the chance to do in this remake was fix the loose ends that were left hanging in the 2006 version. I mean....they still abandoned completely the search for that one Maori servant, what happened to all the people they managed to rescue? Who hired the private American detective that was killed? Why give out the cheap pendants? I know I'm a bit dumb and need extra explaining than what is necessarily needed but...I can't be the only one right? Sometimes you want to be told just a bit more.

Now, getting into the really good bits, that make all of it worth it!

'Chapter One' acted as a 'de facto' reboot of the Frogwares Holmes series, and I honestly think that was for the best. I don't really see where they could have gone with things after 'Devil's Daughter' and their Holmes had changed too much to be the same guy from 'The Silver Earring'...let alone Watson. But like this? They have a fresh, clean slate to start off from and they can rebuild the two mains' relashionship and lore from the ground up in a more strictly consequential manner. And the way they are doing it? I think it's state of the art!

The fact that they poke fun at themselves on certain points like Watson stating: "What about when you used to roll up only one of your sleeves? Did you get bored halfway through?!" I think the Devs themselves realized this was a cringe design choice and I like that they said so out loud.

The meta-conversation they wrote in towards the end, 'because yes, this HAS Happened before and the story still has the same outcome', is brilliant. I don't think I've ever seen another remake that acknowledges that it is a remake, and in the general madness that is mounting in the narrative this makes perfect sense! It adds one more layer of horror and inexplicable to the tale. The villain's warning 'that the Final Problem is coming and Sherlock will fall in the abyss too' is such a powerful way to use Canon. The prophecy is only made more real and dreadful by the fact that this person is aware of what has already happen in a similar but different scenario!

Also, not them using that one quote from 'The Valley of Fear' novel which happens to be one of my all time favourites!

I say, Watson,’ he whispered, ‘would you be afraid to sleep in the same room as a lunatic, a man with softening of the brain, an idiot whose mind has lost its grip?’ ‘Not in the least,’ I answered in astonishment. 'Ah, that’s lucky,’ he said, and not another word would he utter.

I think the thing that has most benefited from the Remake is Watson's character. Compared to the 2006 version, this Watson is a truly compelling character in his own right and this time round he's not just along for the ride. In this version, you simply cannot imagine how Holmes would have done it on his own. Watson was in every way a key component to the solution of the problem and the reason why Holmes didn't drown in madness. That point is driven home by Rochester asking 'How did you defeat me?' and Holmes answering 'I made a friend!'

Much of the narrative in the game was focused on Holmes truly learning to accept Watson's friendship and him as a person when he was still clinging so much to his old imaginary friend. You can see how, at first, Holmes refuses to be honest with the Doctor about what he thinks and feels and it's only as they move forward in the adventure that they both open up to each other. You can see as the adventure progresses that Holmes shifts his desperate cries from 'Jon' to 'Watson' to 'John' and the Doctor goes more and more often from 'Holmes' to 'Sherlock'. Mycroft also points this out when he says that Sherlock 'went from one Jon to another'. But this one, John Watson, is real and there to stay. In the context of a story that happens mostly in the detective's mind, Watson's friendship is really what turns the situation around!

I could add of little tid bits which were so random and on the nose that somehow worked, like the possessed 'Heidi' doll or the fact that you had to actually 'Kill Holmes' with the booby traps instead of avoiding them.

Also, "The director Guygax was randomly killed.....by a doll?!????!?!?! Yeah, let's just walk out of here no questions asked. That's too deep a wormhole even for this f***d up Adventure to go down. I'm sure nobody is gonna ask us questions, suspect or stop us as we go out the main doors!" 😃 -Holmes, probably.

So, yeah, I loved this game despite it not being perfect and my love and support goes to Frogwares more that ever!

[writingquestionsanswered]

Feeling Weird About Promoting Stories

Anonymous asked: How do I get over being ashamed to promote my story more? While I definitely write for myself, I like a bit of validation as well but I'm too shy and feel a bit...cheap? There's a person in my writing community who goes around begging people to read their stuff. They keep track up to where you've left comments, and then asks why haven't you commented on their other chapters. They also passive aggressively say nobody likes their stuff enough to leave comments and other things to guilt people into guilt reading their stuff. I've been encouraged by friends to market my stories more, but I just can't bring myself to do it because I feel like I'm in the same boat as this person.

(Ask was edited for length...)

First, I want to be clear that what this person (in your writing community) is doing isn't promoting themselves. It's nagging and badgering, and if they ever try that as a fiction writer, they'll have a very short career.

What they're doing is like hitting someone over the head repeatedly with a pillow. Promoting your story is like standing there holding a sign that shows information about your story. You're not asking anyone to read your story. You're not badgering them by appealing to their sympathy or sense of guilt. You're literally just saying, "Here's my story..." It's up to them whether or not they want to check it out.

There's absolutely nothing wrong with or shameful about promoting your work/product. If there was, we wouldn't have TV commercials, print ads, movie trailers, billboards, etc. The key is to do it in a way that doesn't annoy or badger your potential "customer." When promoting books and stories, that means doing it in a way that's quick, interesting to the reader, and not doing it so frequently that they get sick of hearing from you.

Many fan-fiction writers have a social media account associated with their writing which they can use to help drive traffic to their stories. So, for example, an Instagram, Tumblr or Facebook page. The link to this social media would also be shared at the bottom of each story to give fans a place to stay updated on your writing.

A promotional post would look like...

1 - A text post with a little teaser or hook:

Hi, everyone! I just updated Two Balls of Yarn over at AO3. Let's just say this is the chapter where everything goes sideways. You can check it out here: [link to story on AO3, username, or whatever]

2 - A graphic: for example, a book cover for your story, a mood board or aesthetic, a gif set, or story art, along with a caption that says something along the lines of what's up above in #1. Alternatively, it could say something like: Two Balls of Yarn, updated 9/3/23, available here...

If you're have a story in progress that you're posting every week or so, you would do such a promo post every time you update. However, once every few days or so, you might also choose to promo an older story. Depending on the social media platform, you may also want to do other types of posts occasionally, such as episode reviews (if for a TV show), reblogs of fan-art or gif sets related to the fandom, etc. You might even share links to other writers' stories that you really enjoyed.

Also, and this is SO important... 90% of success when promoting on social media is reciprocal engagement. In other words, if you want people to read, like, and comment on your stories, you need to read, like, and comment on other people's stories.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[bowlzone]

Today's cereal is South Korean Oreo O's!

Initial Impressions: Ever since I heard murmurings from the wider cereal community that the South Korean Oreo O's are the superior take on the concept, they have been at the top of my review list. This review is a chunky one, so the rest is under the cut!

Before we get into my thoughts on the box, let's take a detour back to the ancient history of the 90s to understand why these Oreo O's hit different. The original US run of Oreo O's happened between 1997 and 2007, when Kraft (who own the rights to Oreos) and Post (who own the rights to the cereal recipe) had an acrimonious break up. Both unwilling to give up their respective half of the Oreo O key, Oreo O's ceased production in the US. However, this was not the end, for another Oreo O was made. Kraft acquired a Korean food company, Dongsuh Foods, who had the rights to distribute Post products and so a perfect loophole was found. As of 2017 you can get Oreo O's in the USA again, but they are not the original recipe. It's my understanding that the closest you can still get to the 1990s Oreo O is the Korean version, which is still based on that classic recipe, or close to it. I have no nostalgia for Oreo Os as, despite living in the US during at least some of that time, my parents outlawed the consumption of sugary cereals with an iron fist. Now, as an adult in charge of my own sugar consumption, I have never been so excited to eat something. They start strong with a box that is truly a piece of art, featuring what can only be described as a milk elemental in cool shades. The interior, a shiny silver bag that comes with an immensely appreciated re-sealing sticker, is a lot hardier than the clear cereal bags I'm used to and tests my feeble upper body strength in opening it. The chocolaty aroma already promises a sublime cereal experience.

Post bowl thoughts: poring these into the bowl I immediately noticed that they are much more restrained with their marshmallow pieces (or marbits) than American cereals typically are, perhaps because they know the cereal pieces themselves can carry the bowl. The relatively tasteless marbits instead add a nice textural component to the bite, instead of being a main flavour. The cereal itself is truly the star of the show here, with a rich chocolate flavouring and a satisfying crunch that lasts the whole way through the bowl, resisting any kind of sog. It's interesting as the main grain used here is corn, but it avoids all of the disappointing hollow nothingness of other modern corn cereals. Combined with the milk they really are reminiscent of an Oreo, if slightly missing the texture of the the cream. The milk left in the bowl is fine, but its main contribution is to the texture of each spoon here, so I'm not left disappointed that the final slurp is missing a certain allure. These have immediately unseated American Oreo O's from my top five cereals list. Without the slightly over the top sweetness that the US ones have, it feels like you could keep eating these for hours and never get sick of them. Despite the almost unreasonable excitement I held in my heart for this bowl, it did not disappoint. A fantastic cereal.

[inverswayart]

On Orlais fashion

So, while i was trying to design an outfit for Julie, I stumbled upon a problem - what the hell was considered fashionable in Orlais during Awakening? I scanned through wiki and concept art and then got an idea for a big cool post about it, but my da high is closing in to an end so I'll just ramble for a bit instead.

It's evolving (and too fast)

So yeah, if we look at the concept art and what have appeared in Inquisition, Orlais fashion seems to change at break-neck speed - on par with modern fast fashion. Why is it a problem? Because modern fashion operates in a world of mass-production, which whole kinda alluded to in Thedas, is allegedly haven't been achieved yet. But still, in DAI we see at least 3 pretty distinct silhouettes of women's clothes that feel like different stages of one evolutionary line. I'm talking those beauties:

So, as we can see, one more-or-less consistent thing about all of them is waistline - fairly high one, like something out of 16th century Italy or first two decades of 19th century. But everything else is varied - the neckline from completely closed to pretty plunging, sleeve length and form, construction of skirt...

But looking at them in this order they do resemble a solid development line - tho for me it feels like there should be at least one more phase between first and second stages - no way such high and tight wheel ruffles would collapse without a trace of their existence... Otherwise, there's a couple of noticeable trends here - first, slight widening of skirts; second, slow rising of sleeves; descending neckline.

At third image it feels like someone suddenly invented the crinoline straight out of 1850's, completely foregoing farthingale and panniers (here's all of them for comparison, in the same order):

To be clear, neither panniers or farthingale are prerequisite for crinoline to appear - but considering the alleged time period Dragon Age was inspired by and the fairly 1770's like hairdo's Leliana alludes to in DAO (the "I like your hair" dialogue where she mentions a noblewoman incorporating entire birdcage with living birds into her hair) one would expect them rather then mid-19th century invention.

Still, to line up those dresses is to insert at the very least 5 or so years between them, maybe even 10 or 15 (once again, those high ruffled collars would have not dissapered so smoothly... Imagine orlesians with those huge-ass Elizabethan lacey standing collars, wouldn't that be sick?) But to be honest, at least i can see how Origins noble dress could've evolved into the first one.

All the prerequisites are there - standing collar ready to get taller and rufflier, kinda puffed up sleeves, little cape-like decoration at shoulders, waist accentuated by fairly wide belt ready to turn even wider and more decorative, fairly narrow skirt to expand... And it would've ecen work with the timeline we have - there's roughly 11 years between DAO and DAI, and the silhouette would've had time to change - but then the Inquisition dress would be the latest fashion, not the fairly outdated one we see.

There are also two distinct outliers - Florianne de Chalons and empress Celine with their dresses more or less out of common trends we saw before:

And while Celene's dress I can still place in the general climate we got - like yeah, she's the Empress, she can be the most fashion-forward one and outclass everyone around, and her dress does look like evolution of what we saw, it would be at least 5 more tears before crinoline would start to change it's shape (ironically getting closer to panniers) and while I can read her overdress as on of the exposed underdresses in a "I'm above your backroom dealings and behind the stage machinations and so I have nothing to hide" kinda gesture, it feels like a stretch.

Florianne, on the other hand, while being more in tune with others silhouette-wise... Why does she has those pagoda sleeves? Why the train when even the Empress does not have one? Mystery for ages.

A bit unrelated but one cool canon thing about Orlesian fashion is that codex in DAI that says that it's all about hiding the actuall contour of body behind augmented forms - shoulder pads, structured garments and so on. That actually is pretty close to Elizabethan conception of man as something completely separate from nature that found it's reflection in geometrical fashions of the era.

So yeah, in the end, while very pretty, Orlesian fashion is kind of a mess (as is every other fashion in Thedas we have seen. Can't wait for Dreadwolf to throw even more aestetics wrenches in here).

[birdantlers]

(Click to enlarge—tumblr kinda nuked these ngl)

Finished the second book the other day. Dreamworks please puss in boots this shit I'll give you a million dollars I regret to inform you that my smekday moment is turning into a smekday hyperfixation (⁠~⁠_⁠~⁠;⁠) oops. Sorry to all my followers who are probably Very confused dw I'm right there with you.

More below 👇 art + lots of meta bc spec bio and making shit up is my fav

Funsize wasn't in it as much as I hoped he'd be, but I liked him a lot. I wanted to see how he'd look in the Dreamworks style. I also made him look a bit more roughed up and grimy than he is in the book, for character design as well as adding oomph to his arc even if it's short. Since this takes place 2 years later, I gave J.LOh the hoodie he had in at the end of TMOS. it's cute.

One day he took the wrong tunnel coming back to the trash pit, which ended with him getting sucked into a paper shredder. Even though he managed to hear it and slow down, he was going headfirst, and one of his siphons got caught in the blades. His arm also got caught when he instinctively reached out to stop his fall.

Like most adaptations, Home included, I did not so much headcanons or fic as a slightly alternate take on Funsize.

The idea was that after Bish left, he got cocky with his excursions. He quit using/making his maps under the assumption that he knew the ducts well enough, but you only have to be unlucky once.

The blades were short and they don't have arteries in their arms (headcanon that in a nutshell, boov can't bleed out unless an artery is hit. Their veins contract reflexively when exposed to dry air, but their arteries can't are you feeling the autism yet), so it wasn't fatal, but FS did get cut up pretty bad. He was blinded in one eye, and his siphon is unable to grow back due to his generally poor health living in an underground landfill. Even if FS improved his health somehow, he'd still have to remove the scar tissue, which is extremely painful without surgery especially for wounds this extensive.

Funsize's siphon has its own slew of problems. His balance is terrible, and since it's basically torn down the middle, clipping it shut isn't really an option. Mostly, he just steals various antiseptic/saline products from people's houses if he can find any, but he still gets sick from time to time.

FS learned his lesson though, he's very careful when venturing out, and he built the little hover stools as a safeguard if he does fall down the wrong way again. He’s still bitter abt everything (and maybe a little unstable tbh) but thankfully, he’s an optimist.

Bonus little post-book comic:

i would want him to be voiced by richard horvitz tbh

Sorry for the lengthy explanation, I love speculative bio & I happen to have a cephalopod special interest too so . Autism ley lines yk how it is

[proshippers-against-censorship]

might be a bit of a controversial take? But imo I feel like antis who are either poc or black seemingly make the color of their skin the only redeeming quality of themselves, or just want EVERYTHING to revolve around that

Someone’s OC or anime character is not black? Let’s edit them into a black character! And mind you I have absolutely nothing against black edits. I even agree, black people are unfairly underrepresented in games/anime and this has only recently become a little bit better

but the edits I saw were mostly poorly done or gave the characters blurry oversized Afros that cover 90% of the face and colors that will clash with everything else going on, like backgrounds. Or they would “fix” someone’s art and then claim desaturated art pieces or pastel color palettes were “whitewashing”

Whitewashing is a serious problem that happens and shouldn’t happen so often in media but I’m begging people to understand that lighting, pastel and saturation as color options exist

Oh no I fully agree.

That and folks nitpick every piece of poc art but then get mad when artists start only drawing white characters because they're sick of the nitpicking. Personally, I just don't post original human characters anymore because you can do everything right and folks will still pitch a fit.

Also, fixing art is literally art theft and people who 'fix' art without permission from the artists are scum. I will die on this hill.

Draw your own art. And make it look good, God dammit. If I see another copy-pasted afro I may cry. So many creative hairstyles out there. And learn color theory, lads. Please. I beg.

(Not going to touch too much on the 'my skin tone is my only redeeming quality' note just because I just KNOW that's going to drag in some stinkies and I'm too eepy from my drive yesterday to deal with them. I do agree, though. Or the 'support me because I'm a [insert trait here] artist' thing. Like I'm sorry but if your art or product is shit I'm not spending money on it, idc how much of a minority you are. Trying to guilt-trip and frame anybody who doesn't support you as 'bad' because your art or product sucks is stinky.)

[inthecratersofthemoon]

I can't get over the fact that Lisa Hannawalt's brand should be just as strong as Dan Harmon's, but it's not because of TV network fuckery. I'm sick of adult animation being a boy's club. (and a very white boy's club too) Netflix cancels shows after two seasons and it doesn't really matter how well they do or how critically acclaimed they are unless they crack the top 10, and the Warner Bros/Discovery merger canceled most Adult Swim shows. People saw Tuca and Bertie and said "Bojack knockoff!" when they should have said "Sweet, another Lisa Hannawalt cartoon!" She was the production designer on Bojack, she gave the show its whole look. It's in HER art style! Bojack Horseman is a Lisa Hannawalt/Rapheal Bob-Waksburg cartoon. A lot of people don't know she wrote several episodes. RBW is a great writer and it's also accurate to say he made the thing, but she played such a big role in making Bojack Horseman what it was. This lady has The Stuff. She could be as important of a creator as Matt Groening if she had the chance. It hurts that someone that talented comes so close to the top of the animation industry ladder, and gets pushed down. I hope she has a long and shining career ahead of her despite that. Everything she's responsible for shows me what adult animation could be and I want- no, NEED- more of it!

[emillyverse]

First experiences

Sooooo

I know that "Behind the Scenes" is usually released after the artistic products are released, but hey, why not do it before?

I like sharing processes and seeing works of art emerge, so I hope whoever is reading this (if anyone is actually reading this) will enjoy it too!

Well, let's go!

So far, it has been 3 days of hard work. I'm not ashamed to say that the KoW Project really got me excited and the fact that I had a period off from University (which is coming to an end, thank the stars as I really want to start studying) motivated me to do as much as my body could. and my mind could handle it without it feeling forced and toxic. Thanks to that, I managed to finish planning the first scene!

Lol, yes, all these papers with writings and drafts are the first scene!

I was surprised – I didn’t expect a scene to be so big! Literally my only reaction to this was "Wow-"

I talked to the comic book writer and she said that I was going through the same difficulty as her when writing this introductory scene: The difficulty of fitting a long and complex backstory into a short space of time in a clear and objective way.

In total, the narration scene that tells from the creation of Wish Magic to the (supposed) story of Florian, Magnus and Amaya is 17 pages long.

This is in Brazilian Portuguese, probably no one will understand, but basically it says the title of the work, chapter 1, "scene 1", the word pages ("página") and their corresponding numbers.

Here we come to an interesting point, if you read my post about the "Production stages of the Fan Comic of "The Wish Kingdom" !!!" you will see that I mentioned that I would do each step per chapter…

Well that has changed.

I discovered that working only on planning tires me, I get sick and exhausted, so I'll alternate between planning and drawing the scenes, little by little putting together the chapters in the best way possible for me and the readers.

It's my first time putting together a comic book, I'm discovering what should be done and how it should be done, as well as getting to know myself a little in the process.

The conclusions I draw from this first experience is that challenging yourself to do new things can make you understand more about yourself, surprise you and be fun and tiring at the same time!

(cliché I know, but I really wanted to close this post with this little reminder Lmao)

Anyway…

I hope you enjoyed what you read, I'll be back with more in a while!

Kisses full of light and stars!

Goodbye!!

~ Emilly

[red-bat-arse]

I Got a Problem 🎸🎶🎻

AO3

Chapter One/Two

Eddie 'The Freak' Munson, famous for bringing rock to new heights with his band Hellfire, listens to everything but Country. 'King' Steve Harrington, leading light of the new generation of traditional Country artists, has a few thoughts about that.

=<+>=

Eddie made himself go into the studio, even though he felt sick to his stomach at the idea of another fruitless session. He'd just feel worse if he stayed home -he'd lay in bed all day with his brain running in circles about getting into his office and working, and he'd keep thinking about it until the sun went from risen to set and he fell back asleep, exhausted from doing fuck all.

So he pulled into the lot and grabbed his traveller thermos to keep him going until someone made him take a break for lunch, and he trudged inside, waving over at Claudia as he passed reception. She looked extra busy, on the phone and typing at the same time, so he didn't stop until the elevator brought him upstairs and he pushed into the lounge room, beelining straight for the coffee machine.

It was weirdly busy in the halls for this early. Sure they were old school at Prison Break and it was an unspoken rule that at least half of everyone's work should be done in house, but the kids usually left it to the afternoon and Wayne preferred his late nights where he could chat with Hop and the guards as long as he liked. Granted, Eddie hadn't done much but hole up in a recording booth these last few months, but he was usually pretty solid on his friends' schedules.

Then the drawl made it to his ears, and he realized one crucial point he'd failed to take into account -country artists were morning people.

"Morning, Munson," was called over, and when he glanced in their direction it was... well, he was pretty sure he knew the kid, the younger of Mama Byers' two sons. The girls looked familiar from the party last week, but otherwise he was drawing a blank.

"Uh, hey," he raised a hand, not really in the mood to socialize. His mind kept drifting back to the unfinished songs on his computer and the sound techs he kept having to put off talking to about production ideas. But he already dug his grave with Harrington, he supposed he should play nice with some of the rest of them; while the pot was filling he meandered over and glanced down at the papers scattered on the table. "Album art?"

The kid -Bill? Will? Yeah, Will -nodded, smiling shyly. "I said I'd do some sketches up for Mike's EP -uh, we got to talking at the party," he ducked his head, and Eddie pulled a nearby one over to inspect it. It kind of reminded him of his classic D&D manuals, and he guessed it'd suit the medieval imagery Mike favoured. "I'm not planning on recording anything right now, so it'll keep me busy. I really liked the painting you chose for The Wrong Road -I heard you and Grant did it yourselves?"

Another country boy who knew his work, would wonders never cease? "Yeah, Grant and I workshopped it. I'm sure I've got the sketches around if you ever wanna see them," he offered, and Will nodded quick. "And you ladies are...?"

A prim little brunette in a ruffled shirt and a blonde who would've looked like a cheerleader if she wasn't wearing an oversized flannel and one of the biggest belt buckles he'd ever seen. "Chrissy Cunningham, charmed," the blonde said with a giggle and an exaggerated accent, holding up her hand like a lady in a period drama. When Eddie went to take it she shifted smoothly into a firm handshake. "And this's Nancy Wheeler. It's real nice to be at a good label finally, thanks for putting up with the tight quarters on such short notice."

"It's no problem," Eddie stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged, one eye on the coffee machine. He could almost feel the shadow of an idea for a chord coming on, if he could just get his joe and go. "Tiger really as shitty as they say?"

"Whatever you've heard, it was worse," Nancy said, crossing her arms. "Thank god Steve finally got to everyone. I was really to shoot my way out."

"Nancy also shoots pistol competitively," Will piped up helpfully.

"It was... restrictive," Chrissy said with the air of someone holding themselves back, especially with the way Nancy snorted derisively. "Especially to us girls. Purity rings, attending church, that sort of thing -Steve was the one who convinced us we could walk away, and hired a lawyer so we could take our work with us. Even though he-"

"We're very glad to be at Prison Break," Will interrupted, nodding up at Eddie. "Especially me and Jonathan, because Chief Hopper brought Mom in with such a good contract, we don't all have to work extra. We can just focus on the music, or my art, or anything."

"And once we're done with the new album, Hopper said we're free to record solo work. Never would've gotten that from Tiger," Nancy smiled, satisfied, and Eddie suddenly recalled she was one of the Harrington quartet. Her and the elder brother Byers and one other girl. "Is anyone on your team good with percussion?"

Eddie had exactly zero interest in discussing how percussion could work into a good old square dance, or whatever. Luckily he was saved from more talking by the shrill beep of the coffee machine, and he waved himself off with a half promise to ask if Grant was still dabbling in trumpet as of late.

As he filled the thermos up, he turned over what 'worse than you've heard' could mean. He knew he'd been lucky in both labels he'd signed with over his career, thanks to Wayne, but everyone heard the horror stories eventually.

Tiger Studios had always flown under the radar, a bigger record label on the other side of the city from Prison Break that catered exclusively to Country singers in much the same way PB used to cater to hard rock. Honestly, Eddie was a little behind the times, since even before the accident he'd been focused on the album, the tour, and helping plan Jeff's impending nuptials.

Of course, he heard the gossip the past few weeks. One artist dropping their label was rare, let alone ten at once like happened at Tiger. Harrington's lawyer must be fucking amazing to pull that shit off, although there were rumours of the execs only backing off because of some pretty hefty accusations flung their way. The kind of shit that made Eddie thank god for Wayne and Hopper whenever he thought about it too hard.

And in the middle of it all, or at the helm, was 'King' Steve Harrington, risen star of Country at large. Most of the references went over his head, but when someone was called a modern day Garth Brooks, well, that wasn't a light title to bear, even Eddie could say that. It'd be the metal equivalent of a new Ozzy Osbourne -it could happen, but increasingly unlikely as time went on. Harrington, who apparently convinced all the others to leave, and ensured they actually could -that was closing in on Dio territory if he really got away with it without a hitch.

He wasn't too sure if he actually had, though. He caught Chrissy's little slip, before Will broke in; but in the end, it wasn't any of his business. Harrington was here now, signed with them all neat and legal-like, so he'd obviously fought his own battle and come out the victor. The details would probably reach him eventually.

For now, he twisted the lid on his coffee and turned to go, grabbing a banana when his stomach twinged in protest. As he left, Mike and El came in with two more of the country club, and all four called after him their good mornings, more chipper than he was used to so early.

Eddie waved over his shoulder, already wanting to just go home and sleep. He shifted his thermos to his better hand and trudged up to his usual booth anyway. He couldn't keep the band on hiatus forever.

*

The trend continued through the next while; every time Eddie walked in, no matter what time of day or which floor he was on, the studio seemed more bustling and lively than ever before. Part of it was just that an extra ten people, and a few more security and special technicians and the like, just meant it was natural. But, grudging as he had to admit, the country club were all around just happy to have a space to work on their music and weren't shy about interacting with everyone. Even Eddie, who was probably the least approachable besides Hopper and in a perpetual bad mood besides, he found himself getting pulled into little talks with them on his brief forays into the lounge -although it was mainly Chrissy, who was the most personable of the whole lot.

It probably helped that she smoked about as much as he did, and they swapped a few tips between them to break the ice. Or, she smoked as much as he did on a good day. Lately he was tearing his hair out over his writers block more often than not, so he was smoking nearly every night when he got home, and a bit on his lunch breaks when it really got bad. That was probably why he put his foot in his mouth the way he did, about two weeks into Prison Break's new normal.

Eddie was at the tail end of a string of bad days, and not just because of the dead end of working on the album. Monday was the five year anniversary of his old man dying in jail of a heart attack, which already put him off completely. He was on pins and needles for days, irritated at the slightest reminder and getting reminded at every turn, which sucked because even the good memories were all tinged with hurt by now. Then he cut his hand open on a tin of tomatoes at home like an idiot, which was probably the worst because it meant he couldn't even write when the rare burst of inspiration hit him. He didn't need stitches, but it was a close thing.

After that, it all snowballed. He was frustrated, so he tried to work it out on his laptop -he couldn't get the lyrics to work, so he fiddled with the arrangements he'd written down -when he couldn't visualize how the sounds would mesh, he stomped down to one of the empty booths to play previous recordings back until they poured out of his ears and he was ready to scream. All that, so when lunch or his inevitable breaking point came by he was first out to the courtyard to light up and try to smoke the stress away.

Usually, at work, it was just cigarettes. Today, Eddie sucked down half a joint and the sandwich he brought from home and then went up to claim a booth.

Today, though, his usual booth was occupied. Today, he came into the observation area to see Steve Harrington and the elder brother Byers sitting inside, no sound techs or anything around, picking on their guitars and bickering back and forth about lyrics and timing for the fiddle to come in on the chorus.

And the fucking song was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard.

"I don't blame this brewski for sweatin' like it's guilty of something," Harrington sung jauntily, hamming it up for Byers, who rolled his eyes but obliged with picking out a tune. Eddie had stopped dead when he realized they were working, if you could call a song apparently about feeling bad for drinking a 12 ounce on the water work, and watched with his blood boiling as Harrington sketched out a whole song in a few minutes.

He found himself horribly jealous, not something he often had to deal with, at the ease with which it seemed to come to Harrington. Sure, it wasn't exactly fucking Mob Rules being written in there but it was leaps and bounds more than Eddie was accomplishing at the moment, and he clenched his fists as the pair inside busted up laughing at their own silly song.

Harrington even broke out a stupid, embarrassing Elvis impression for the end of one of the last choruses, which Byers suggested they leave in. Like they were completely fucking around with this in one of Prison Break's good recording rooms, completely unaware that there were other people who wanted to use it to work on serious projects. Not on three chord nonsense songs that talked about the fish not biting at the fucking lake.

Eddie didn't know how long he stood there fuming but unable to make himself interrupt, but it must have been a good while because when Byers pushed open the connecting door and saw him, his knees were sore when he unlocked them.

"Uh, hey man, didn't notice you," Byers said awkwardly, one eyebrow raised at whatever expression was on Eddie's face right now. He didn't dwell on it, just looked back at Harrington as if Eddie wasn't even there. "You good with me taking off early?"

"Yeah, man, go get Baby Byers," Harrington waved him off, flashing those pearly whites again. Bigger Byers nodded, and kind of skirted around Eddie as best he could, his guitar on his back -the door to the hall swung shut with a click, leaving him alone with Harrington.

The other man stood up and stretched, no less put together here than at the party a few weeks back. This time it was a little polo ensemble, brown and cream to match the boots again, a big blue buckle on the belt to go with the blue jeans on his ass. That ticked Eddie off too.

"What's up with you, Munson?" Harrington asked, barely glancing his way as he packed up his songbook. "Did you finally figure out your hair needs conditioner instead of twelve in one?"

"Ha. Funny," Eddie sneered, making Harrington actually look at him. He could feel the frustration from hell week bubbling over, eager for an easy target he already didn't like. "Don't you get tired of singing that shit? Brewskis, Harrington? You've got to be embarrassed."

Harrington straightened up, one hand on his belt, the other with a few loose papers held firmly in front of him. He leveled Eddie with an almost bored look, huffing once like he didn't have a care in the world, like Eddie was the weird one here.

"Beer on the lake, fish in the water, might as well put a truck and a pretty girl in there, get a bingo card," Eddie went on, even more irritated at the non-reaction. "What, not enough songs on the album about drinking already?"

"No, man, it's just a fun one," Harrington said, shoulders shrugging. "It's not that serious."

"It's a waste of time is what it is," Eddie threw up his hands, the first big movement since he'd walked in, and oh, god, ow. "You could actually sing about something important, y'know."

Finally that seemed to make Harrington twitch. "Y'know, Munson, you're being pretty judgey right now. You don't know what is or isn't important to me."

"You're gonna tell me a song about demolishing a pack of crap beer by a lake is important to you," Eddie said, stung by the reprimand, if only because Harrington was right. He was kind of losing his grip on why he was even in here, why he'd even come in today when he felt so bad. "Look me in the eyes and say that. Go on!"

Eddie half expected Harrington's expression to go steely, kind of like when he'd been interrupted by Murray at the party.

Instead, Harrington cracked a smile and shrugged again. He dropped his notebook in his messenger bag and put his hands on his hips, tilting his head to look at Eddie up and down, inspecting him.

"Does it have to be without laughing? Cause I don't think I can make it," he crossed his arms and pursed his lips, a little furrow appearing in his forehead. "Are you okay, Munson? You don't look so good."

"I'm fucking fine," Eddie grit out.

"Alright," Harrington held up his hands. "Then, no, a song about a pack of beer ain't that important. But I still think you're being harsh. I get you don't like my music, but you don't have to go out of your way to antagonize me, man."

"I'm trying to be helpful, man. I don't want you laughed off stage when you break out your cringey little Elvis bit," Fuck, why couldn't he just stop? Not everything that reminded him had to be fucking attacked, but now with Harrington actively engaging him, it was almost like he'd passed the point of no return. "If I'm thinking it, so are other people."

Harrington rolled his eyes hard. "And if everyone told me to jump off a bridge, I'd say sure, which one! Do you hear yourself, Munson? I thought rock was supposed to be all about counterculture."

"Rock is an outlet. Sorry for caring about what I put out into the world, I guess I just don't want to embarrass my fans," he'd gotten closer to Harrington at some point, and it was weird -the way his blood was pumping, he almost felt good for the first time in who knew how long. "Or my label for that matter."

Harrington cracked. "I don't put out songs to please the fans, asshole, or any fucking label. I've got fans because they like the music I make. Sure you ain't a little confused?"

"No, I've got it. You've got low standards," Eddie smirked and relished the offence written on Harrington's stupid pretty face.

"Well, at least I can still make music," he said, finally angry, and Eddie flinched back like he'd been slapped. "You're right, Munson, I'm glad to put out a hundred songs that are corny and cringey, because at least they're genuine. How long's Hellfire been on hiatus now, seven months? You ever think the reason you can't spit out a single track anymore is because you're too wound up your own ass and stuck there, you fucking prick?"

In the ringing silence after that, Eddie's mouth dropped open and he felt his face go pale. Harrington's eyes went wide and he muttered a curse under his breath, instant regret plain as day on his face.

"God, Munson, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"You obviously fucking meant it," Eddie snarled, but it was weak, and his head was swimming. His hands were trembling at his sides, heat crawling up his neck at the realization he'd been an unwarranted asshole and brought this on himself. Just another shit day on the tail end of a shit week of a shit seven months. "Fuck this, I can't fucking think anymore. I'll stay out of your fucking hair, Harrington."

"No, wait, man, is something wrong-"

"I said I'm fucking fine!" Eddie stepped forward and shoved Harrington back when he looked about to come close, and didn't feel any better. In fact, when the guy only looked more concerned, he felt about ten times smaller, and his stomach lurched like he was going to be sick.

"Have fun with your goof off anthems, man. I've got actual music to work on."

He ignored anything else Harrington might have said and spun on his heel, out the door in two long strides and down the hall in five. He couldn't stand the idea of an enclosed elevator right now, so he pushed into the stairwell and thundered down the three flights to the ground floor, tunnel vision getting him out the back and into the parking lot in record time.

He was such a fucking idiot. Why did he do that? Why did he see Harrington and go completely off the rails like an absolute lunatic -it wasn't even his fault that country just -jesus christ, he must think he was crazy-

Eddie let out a strangled laugh and fumbled his keys to the ground, reaching down and grabbing them after a shaky minute. He probably shouldn't be driving.

He got into his car anyway, put the keys on the dashboard and sat there like a weirdo staring straight ahead, gripping the steering wheel tight enough to make his fingers ache.

Maybe Harrington was right.

Maybe every shitty thing he'd ever heard from a tabloid was right -that he was a fucking snob who took himself too seriously, and was only making music for the money. There were people who thought he didn't even like making music, and after seven months of this, how could Eddie refute them?

He didn't like it anymore. The thought made his teeth chatter and his brain shy away, but it was true. Ever since he woke up in the hospital and got his expected recovery time on a little note card, he'd dreaded picking up a guitar again. When he finally forced himself to, the chords didn't come easily anymore, and all he could hear was the echo of Jeff's horrified scream. He put it down and tried to write lyrics, but everything was too dark, or too confusing, or made Gareth's face pinch when he looked over the cue cards. He stopped being able to write them not long after.

He didn't like making music. Eddie gagged on nothing and curled in on himself, shivering even in the warm air. He hated making music! He was up his own ass about the album, and getting back on the horse for the fans, and writing these fucking asinine songs about pointless, serious topics that the charts would love and the magazines would rave over and-

Even if he did write it, he wouldn't be able to tour. It hit him like a brick that if he could barely pick up his guitar in the studio, how the hell was he supposed to walk back on stage after what happened? How the fuck was he supposed to play live with all those people watching him when he couldn't even play for himself?

Oh god, he'd never make another album-

Eddie jolted in his seat at that particular thought and fumbled for his keys again, getting them in the ignition with nausea rolling in his stomach. He couldn't think about that right now. Not here in his car where anyone could see -not five minutes after making a complete awful fool of himself and running away like a coward. He had to get home and get in bed and hide. He had to get somewhere safe to freak out.

He didn't remember the drive home, but he got there. Ben took one look at him and ushered him in, accompanying him into the elevator and taking his keys from him to open his door once they reached his floor. The doorman got him inside and tried to fuss, but Eddie loudly thanked him and asked him to go, so he did, reluctantly.

Eddie got to his bedroom, crawled under the covers, and curled himself into a ball.

Maybe he'd never make another record.

Maybe he'd be on hiatus for forever and let down all his fans and Hopper. He'd let down his band, and his uncle, and he'd disappoint his Momma, and he'd never make another album because-

-because he was scared of doing another live show and getting hurt again, and he couldn't write lyrics anymore because everything was wrong in his head, and he couldn't pick up a guitar anymore because his hand wasn't right anymore-

Because he didn't check. Because he fucked up just like always, just like he'd fucked up today by not walking out the minute he heard twangy guitar and let himself get reminded of his shit Dad and how he used to hurt him and-

-Eddie was just-

-he was just-

-so tired.