#I love how clean and crisp the line art is

[possessedpasm]

Something I try to keep in mind when making art that looks vintage is keeping a limited color pallette. Digital art gives you a very wide, Crisp scope of colors, whereas traditional art-- especially older traditional art-- had a very limited and sometimes dulled use of color.

This is a modern riso ink swatch, but still you find a similar and limited selection of colors to mix with. (Mixing digitally as to emulate the layering of ink riso would be coloring on Multiply, and layering on top of eachother 👉)

If you find some old prints, take a closer look and see if you can tell what colors they used and which ones they layered... a lot of the time you'll find yellow as a base!

Misprints can really reveal what colors were used and where, I love misprints...

Something else I keep in the back of my mind is: how the human eye perceives color on paper vs. a screen. Ink and paint soaks into paper, it bleeds, stains, fades over time, smears, ect... the history of a piece can show in physical wear. What kind of history do you want to emulate? Misprinted? Stained? Kept as clean as possible, but unable to escape the bluing damages of the sun? It's one of my favorite things about making vintage art. Making it imperfect!

You can see the bleed, the wobble of the lines on the rug, the fading, the dirt... beautiful!!

Thinking in terms of traditional-method art while drawing digital can help open avenues to achieving that genuine, vintage look!

[eli0004]

Ever wondered where the Veterans would take you on a date?

Contains: Erwin Smith, Levi Ackerman, Hange Zoe

Synopsis: brief Headcannons about where the Vets would take you on a date

Warnings: None

Erwin smith? Applebee’s💀

lmfao I’m joking, but the way i see it, Erwin strikes me as the goofy, endearingly cringy, single dad type of guy that really believes Applebee’s is the epitome of fine dining. Thankfully, he listens when Levi tells him to have a little class💀

In all seriousness, I think he’d be the type to take you wine tasting, go to see live music performances at local venues, or browsing a cute little craft market on a crisp spring morning.

He’d clean up nice beforehand, probably wear some jeans and a button up shirt, and this man would smell…so…fucking…good😩 like fresh powdery cologne and spearmint gum. You’d get in his car and he’d already have your favorite coffee order in the cupholder waiting for you. Omg i love him

Levi Ackerman? Tea shops, local bakeries, art museums, bookstores, theater.

Levi has a love for the arts, and anything intellectually stimulating. He likes to take his time getting to know the person he’s interested in, so he wouldn’t want to do any kind of activity he couldn’t talk during. It’s a common headcannon among us Levi lovers that he’s an acts of service kind of guy, so you know he’ll be always observing what kind of pastries you order, what kind of tea you like, or your favorite genre of book.

When Levi takes interest in someone, he doesn’t take them for granted. He’s always perusing, always chasing, always loving, so diligently. Gas will never be an issue, this man will drive you across town and back 4 times if you asked him to. He plans dates ahead of time, and always comes prepared, with a wallet full of cash and a tank full of gas, and If he ends the night empty handed, he’ll call it a job well done.

Hange Zoe? Hikes, smoke sesh on the roof, metaphysical shops, farmers markets, picnics, nature walks, the zoo.

Hange is one of those earthly granola people. They’re 100% vegan, grounded to the world around them, and a huge animal lover, so i love the idea that they’ll want to go on a hike to bird watch or pet some moss. Just imagine how cute it would be, you’re both walking around in a stream in the woods, pant legs hiked up around your calves, looking for pretty colored stones for your collection. The sun is peaking through the tree line and you both smell like sweat and sunscreen and earth. Hange finds a turtle or a small frog and catches it to show you🥹 they make me so soft. They’ll also 100% get sunburnt on their nose and cheeks because they can’t ever remember to apply sunscreen there.

Hange is the type to love taking photos of you on dates, and add them to the photo wall in their apartment. If you go to visit, the two of you will pack a bowl and laugh about the memories you have together as you look over the pictures, some kind of cozy music playing in the background.

[4pfsukuna]

omfg bruhhhhh

yall want me to believe Choso “on sight before his feet even land on the floor” Kamo is some pathetic whiney crybaby? Like why is every fic so… ugh i want him to fight back. Somebody please tag me or drop a link for assertive/ aggresive/ dominant choso! (Prefferably black reader)

like do i gotta write it myself?

Choso who meets you when you both come in late at night its 2am and youre standing in the hall talking about whatever the hell a middle part buss down is. He doesnt care he just wish you werent so loud… in your shared hall.

you glare at him because who was he talking too! You pay the same amount of rent as him and to damn much at that they should be lucky you werent in the lounge making ramen watching their t.v right now.

It doesnt get better when you bang on his door asking him to turn his music down cause why was he playing last resort by papa roach at 3:30am on a wednesday. He opens the door in a hoodie and tight calvin klein boxers and your eyes drift for a second until the next rock song starts up this time in japanese and he has the audacity to have an annoyed expresion with you!

”did you want something or did you just want to stare” he glares annoyed with a steady voice though youre expecting him to snap.

“Who answers the door in their boxers have some decorum” you respond half embarassed that he caught you. “And your music is loud… some of us have jobs in the morning” and you storm off not leaving any room for backtalk.

the next time he sees you is a few days later when youre both rushing out and slam into another his shirt and leather jacket falling to the floor with your purse falling sending your wallet down the hall and lip gloss shattering that dior gloss was not cheap.

”are you fucking kidding me” he hisses and you notice hes shirtless silver bars through his nipples and a few tattoos littered across his chest.

”you got a real stairing problem there princess” which makes you smirk.

“you look like a 1st grade art project… line work isnt half bad its just the asshole its attatched to” you retort collecting your items not realizing a few slipped from your wallet.

it was maintenance day you didnt have time to worry about shit it was hair lashes nails toes and a fresh tattoo and belly piercing your friend finally found an artist that did both and had clean work.

youre all smiles and sunshine walking into C.K. Parlor even enjoying the convo with the pink haired male receptionist whos so sweet mentioning this was his brothers shop but something about this guy looks familiar.

“Hes so hot” your friend gushes making you turn around and groan at the sight of your annoying ass neighbor.

”couldnt get enough bothering me home so you come here” he teases but theres something so stoicly calm about his anger… its more so mild annoyance.

”i actually came to get a tattoo and piercing but i think ill pass” you speak not wanting to admit you actually loss your credit card but youre here for moral support for your friend who now that you look at her looks like she doesnt need it.

”youre already here dont tell me youre chicken… come on ill even do it for free”

”free?” Oh that had your attention.

“mhmmm lets call it a truce no more loud… anything just being good neighbors”

and its not long before youre on the table the design being shaded into your spine and he admires how you just take it… his mind does begin to drift to if you can take anything else when he notices how pretty you look today.

he actually loves white on your toes and the crisp french tip on your hands. Its when he notices the snake tattoo wrapped around your wrist that he realizes you might be interesting and not just some stuck up—

“you wanted your belly pierced too right?” He ask and if someone wouldve told you that youd be half dressed infront of your neighbor Today you wouldnt believe it. Hes professional and doesnt even glance at the double d’s you have in your lace bra… ok he did but you didnt notice at all.

you thought you seen his ears burn red but hes quick to turn away disposing of the needle and your completely suprised by how soft and careful his hands are… ahem he is.

”and maybe we can actually be nice to another” he says softly holding out your credit card that you dropped earlier.

your truce last all of 5 days. It wasnt your fault meg the stallion announced she was going on tour and you couldnt help the screams of joy and to blast her music.

you dont expect anyone to bang on your door or barge in when you open it.

”excuse the fuck out of me” you hiss slamming your door facing him when you notice hes looking past your face and down at your body.

you were wearing a dark purple lace bra and underwear the silver belly ring he initially put in switched out for a dangly silver one with a dragon that matched your tattoo and yes it was to early to change.

”my eyes are up here”

”please. Nothing i havent seen before princess actually it kind of looks like the black one” he smirks watching the fury in your eyes as you look for something to cover up.

”get the fuck out”

he saunters (the god damn audacity) out but not without pressing his whole body into you as if the walkway wasnt wide enough making sure to press himself into your ass leaning down to your ear.

”good night princess” and you dont have to look at him to know hes smirking but that raspy voice does something to you.

that night you go to bed with 3 orgasms… what dont make that face you had a voice kink and couldnt help it.

he smirks when he sees you the next day and you try to ignore him as he unlocks his car door.

”sleep well? You know the walls are thin and im sure our bedrooms share a wall”

you make a mental note to get on apartment finder tonight.

”im sure that was your first time ever hearing a womans moans outside of porn” you hiss back you werent no weak bitch.

and he wasnt a cliche man his taunts went further then just an insult back, hed give you more content for tonight. After all he was helping you help him.

”just be a good girl for me and let me hear everything tonight alright princess” he utters in a deep octave that makes your breathing stutter and you cant form a proper sentence and any insult is going to be childish.

you of course try to walk off but he grabs your arm pulling you closely his large hand spreading across your lower back.

”did i say i was done… look up at me” and you bite your lip to keep your jaw off the floor this man was wicked and you were not about to play with a devil.

”youre such a pretty mess” he adds in watching the gloss in your eyes before you come to your senses pushing him off heading fown the street.

”wrong direction princess” and you were headed the other way but you should probably just head back inside to change underwear.

and if he could hear you through the wall you were going to put on a show, you make sure even whine moan groan whimper and cry can be heard through these thin ass walls honestly you were so sensitive from overstimulating yourself… It was his fault.

You do everything in your power to avoid him the next few days that post nut clarity knocking some sense into you.

You actually have no idea how wrecked he’s been. How wrecked you had him! He needs to hear it again.

he might turn slightly yandere for you. its when you get a call at 1am and of course youre up you had actually just got out the shower.

”is this your payback” he hisses into the phone though you arent sure what hes talking about.

”how the fuck did you get my number? Doesnt matter bye”

“stop it just listen” he grunts catching your attention “i just need you to be a good girl for me just once i promise” he nearly begs and you have a wicked idea of what he’s doing on the other side of the phone.

you listen to every command, praise and groan his sultry voice lets out your fingers and sheets soaked

“you did such a good job baby, you deserve a reward how about you cum for me” he grunts sending both of you to your end him losing it to the sound of your orgasm.

“i wanna take you out on a date” and thats when you hang up not in the mood for his antics.

hes serious though, he takes you to the finest seafood restaurant with expensive alcohol you cant pronounce he even gets you a dress to wear, suprising you with a new dior lip gloss…3 actually.

”thats how many times you orgasmed through the wall the first night…” you thank God for your brown skin and him not being able to see you blush. He genuinely takes the time for you to get to know another subtly throwing in praises.

by the time you get back to the car your a wreck hair frizzing from your body overheating already.

your legs are rubbingg together and he spreads them guiding your hand down.

“Be a good girl for me and show me how pretty you look when you cum”

You happily comply watching as his hands fidget while driving

When he gets you back to his place your clothes are off and your back is against his fluffy comforter, not that you had time to notice but his whole room is black.

Hes a certified munch and will eat you until youre lightheaded. He eats you out on your back, makes you ride his face, eats you from the back he has you in 7 different positions from head alone.

He gives the deepest stroke while telling you how pretty you are for him the most filthies things he can mutter in your ear giving you back shots the pillow under your stomach propping you up as he plays with your clit begging for you to cum.

you black out and hes not far behind but makes sure to clean you with a warm rag and throws a tshirt on you.

He loves waking up to you and will actually barge in your home or bring you over to his.

He has his own stubborn ways which you will sometimes talk your best shit which he loves, he needs his woman to be on go not some docile lil weakling.

and sometimes he fights back!

[barbatusart]

how do you make your art so expressive and fluid-looking? do you have a technique or is it just how you've trained your hand? I try to get my figures more fluid but they always look so stiff! even practicing figure drawings...maybe because you draw so fast that helps? idk man...any advice? thank you!

thank you first off for such a compliment!!! fluidity & shape are the things i prize most in visual art to the point where ive given up gunning for "correctness" in favor of chasing the preservation of motion lol. gonna put my response and my Full Visual Art Journey to where i am now under the cut as it's an image-heavy one and a bit long winded (shocking for me to be long winded i know LOL)

so i absolutely used to have the exact same problem many years ago of my stuff being too stiff, ie my sketch would be loose and fun but my inks would be nervous & tight & not as fun to look at as the sketch

this is a super old thing from 2011 when i was still on my anatomy journey (you can tell cus the sternum and nose are, uh, interesting LOL) but you can kinda see what i mean - the sketch underneath is fun & has movement as sketches do, but these little fineliner inks are so visually Nervous. the issue for me at the time was that i was subconsciously exactly that: nervous of messing the picture up, and that fear of making a mistake telegraphed loud & clear to my inks. using fineliner tools 100% did not help me either, as microns & the like have little to no "give" to them; you put the pen to paper and you get what you get, and you have to sit there & meticulously build the line up to get any kind of lineweight.

i was ultra dissatisfied with my output so i made 2 changes a few years after this: i stopped doing pencil sketches and started just doing straight inks, and i swapped to a brushpen

these are from 2012 or so & some of the first things i did in straight brushpen inks with no pencil, and theyre a total mess but they are LOOSE AND FUN! i had 100% no idea what i was doing with the brushpen and had no control over it because i was so used to the thin lines pencil & microns gave me, so everything i made was sloppy & out of control as i was struggling to keep control of the tool, but honestly it was absolutely freeing for me. now i had the looseness of the sketch right there at the forefront. the issue was though, how could i get enough control of the brushpen to make something that wasnt so messy? even if i had freedom, if i got too wacky with it, itd just turn into a black ink mess. i was completely done with pencils at this point and didn't want to go back & risk losing this looseness & freedom, and then i realized like - what if i just do my straight ink sketch like this & then figure out a way to go back in & "carve" into it to clean it?

enter the next tool in the arsenal, the white gel pen. this was my first experiment with it & it was legitimately a complete game changer, because now i could slop on my inks as much as i wanted & go right back in with the gel pen & literally carve out the black lines to as crisp as i pleased while still preserving the motion & energy of the ink sketch. i noticed even with tons of layers of gel too there was no way to fully get rid of the ghost outline of my corrections, so at this stage i leaned into that quality even harder & changed from white paper to exclusively brown

at this point i wanted to showcase loud & clear to myself exactly what i was cleaning up, i LOVED how this looked. i even went a step further & got some really translucent red ink for a second brush pen (had to fill the cartridges with the red ink manually in the sink lol) so i could do an even sloppier red sketch underneath, half precise slop on black ink on top of it, clean it up with the gel, go back in with the black, forever and ever and ever

and like this was an absolute physical mess of material but it was beyond fun. id completely given up on anything being clean or correct, because i could always clean it & correct it & have a blast showcasing the journey of start to finish as preserved in the materials. i basically gave myself permission to like, be imperfect, treat inks like clay, & draw with complete abandon like a kid again

eventually utrecht stopped making the kind of brown paper i loved (these brown paper books were HEAVY DUTY & could take so much punishment, when i was done with a book id legit flip it over & start drawing on the backs of the pages) & then all the available material physically couldnt handle the amount of medium i was putting on my pages, like legit the paper itself was just ripping & dissolving lmao. so at this stage i got an ipad (i could never wrap my head around a tablet & not looking at my hand and the tool touching the artwork) & pivoted from trad to digital in like uhhhh 2018ish & just did the exact same techniques of slopping inks down, carving with the eraser, going back in with the inks, carving more with the eraser, and so on. and now since it was digital & i never had to worry about my paper literally melting underneath my brushes LOL i could just go forever on one thing

early attempts while learning the new medium in my fury road era

tail end of the SAD SACK roughs in like 2019ish (SAD SACK really was what got me locked in with my digital technique & how i wanted to attack it)

tail end of the SORTIE roughs from like 2021, at this stage i think my style got so fuckin crazy because i wasnt worried about my pages getting destroyed anymore so im like Violent with the ipad lmao, that & it got Really fast bcus since i wasnt bothering with correct anymore & had no medium-being-destroyed barrier i could just gunshot-speed get these down

and then most recently DE RERUM NATURA from like january of this year which i think showcases what im currently doing pretty accurately

this got long whoops lol POINT IS: i dont worry about being correct (because i can fix it later), i dont worry about being neat (because i can clean it later), and i skip the sketch stage entirely by slop-inking & eraser-carving interchangeably, which lets me fix and clean all i want while preserving the energy & action of the first marks. plus, going straight inks all the time i think trained my hand & eye to A. put down the marks i want correctly in the General Space of where i want them, and B. do it faster & faster lol

after all this my advice to you is this: swap to a new tool! try a brush, try paint, try a medium you have no control over but something that forces you to improvise and remember whats so fun in the first place about making a mess on your canvas of choice. remember that any mark you make, you can tweak, fix, carve, shove around, whatever. i think a lot of people get stuck in the rules they have set for themselves with art (i know i did!) and we tend to forget that there are no rules. try & remember that feeling of being little & just going wild on paper without any care whatsoever about being Right. go for it, because you can always tweak it - even inks arent permanent 🤓

[enjoythesilentworld]

Wille's Month - Friends

day 16! 💜 @youngroyals-events are yall tired of me yet lol

Wille and Simon are very good friends, indeed.

read below the cut or on ao3 (G, 1.5k) <3

The weather is so nice, and Simon looks so beautiful, with his late summer tan and still-damp curls from their shower that morning, that Wille barely notices the little bakery his boyfriend is dragging him into. 

As a last hurrah before the winter months, they’ve taken a trip to a random little northern town to swim and lounge and play house together. Technically, they already live together and had done so for a few years, but there was something so domestic about sitting in the backyard of their rented villa, sipping coffee in the morning. There was something, still domestic but in a different way, about being as loud as they wanted without having to worry about the neighbors. Making dinner in the big kitchen and shouting across the house, it felt like a window into the next many, many years they’d have together. The whole trip had been so easy, so calming, and Wille just loves Simon so much, and is so grateful they get to have this life with each other. 

A small bell on the bakery door rings as they enter and Wille is hit with a wave of sweet jam and crisp pastry. It’s a small space, but the owners have managed to cram a lot in. Bookshelves line the walls, filled with a mixture of books and picture frames and random art pieces. The tables and chairs are a charming mixture of woods and metals, all different colors and sizes. 

From behind the counter, a small old woman perks up, eyes immediately zeroing in on Wille. Her attire matches the maximalism of the bakery, with at least three different animal prints and several necklaces stacked around her neck. A large pair of square glasses sit on her tiny nose, partially blocking the heavy pink blush on her round cheeks. He braces himself, never knowing how people – especially older folk – are going to react to seeing their Ex-Crown Prince, and he can’t read her face. 

“Kronprinsen!” In a flurry of movement, at a speed truly impressive for such a small lady, the old woman pops up from her chair and rushes around the counter. She pauses only for a moment to give a small curtsy, like an afterthought, before rushing off to begin wiping down tables and straightening the millions of knick-knacks scattered around the room. Before Wille can correct her, she’s rambling, face drawn up in a serious expression, “I told Robert, I said, one of these days the Prince is going to show up and you’ll be sorry you didn’t clean up like I told you. Every day I tell him he needs to wash the windows– I can’t reach the tops of them except with the stool, so he tells me he’ll do it because he doesn’t want me falling off– But, here we are, years later, and he still hasn’t cleaned the damn windows!” 

Wille and Simon stop just inside the door, watching as the tiny tornado of a woman flits around the room, continuing to complain about ‘Robert’. She has a no-bullshit but almost whimsical manner about her that reminds him of Maddie. Realizing she may never stop, Wille gently interrupts her when she pauses to inhale between sentences.

“I’m actually– I’ve stepped down,” he says quickly, unsure how to break this news. “I’m just Wilhelm, now. Just Wille.” 

This makes the woman stop in her tracks. He tenses, expecting her to yell, but when she turns to him, she doesn’t look too upset. She simply looks a little curious.

“Have you? Why’s that?” 

“Um.” He isn’t exactly sure how to explain this, either. “I didn’t– It just wasn’t for me?” 

It comes out as a bit of a question, and it’s probably not the best response he’s given about the whole thing, but it’s been a few years now so people hardly ask him anymore and he’s out of practice. Simon gives a slight chuckle beside him at Wille’s fumbling, but the old woman doesn’t seem to care, just nods and approaches them. 

“Well, good for you. I don’t watch the news much, so I must’ve missed it.” She sticks out a tiny hand. “I am Ebba. This is my bakery. Been mine and Robert’s for decades, now, not that he does anything around here, the old fart.” 

As Wille and Simon shake her hand, they manage to introduce themselves quickly before she starts on another rant about the history of the building, and how she makes all the pastries and pies herself, and how any of the art and books are for sale, too, if they’d like. 

“Are you here for breakfast? Lunch?” Ebba totters back behind the counter. “What can I get for you? The scones are fresh, just took them out of the oven a few minutes ago. What are you two doing in town?” 

Noticing Wille’s astonishment at this burst of energy in the form of a 5’1” woman, Simon takes the lead, approaching the case and nodding intently as Ebba begins explaining every option. 

“These are all very beautiful, Ebba,” he says kindly, a bright smile on his face. Simon has a way with people that makes Wille feel like a bit of a dunce sometimes. It’s supposed to be Wille charming people, who is the former-royal and had actually taken classes in this, but something about the light in Simon’s eyes and the kindness in his heart draws people in. Ebba has not actually smiled yet, just spoken at them with an intense stare, but even Wille can tell she’s taken with Simon, offering him samples and answering all of his questions with excitement. 

“That one looks really good.” Simon points to a random pastry in the case, half-distracted by the sample of cookie he’s currently chewing on.

Noticing the small label, Wille cuts in, “That one has raisins, you won’t like it.” 

“Now, that’s a good friend, right there.” Ebba nods her head in approval. “My dear friend Susanna doesn’t like raisins, either. She does like this other one, though. It’s similar but without raisins, if you’d like to try.” 

Both men freeze. Wille opens his mouth to correct her, but she’s already grabbed a different pastry and is telling them more about her friend and how Susanna shares the bounty of her garden with Ebba so she can use the fresh fruit and vegetables in her pastries. He glances at Simon, who just looks back at him with a smile and a shrug. 

“She sounds like a lovely friend, Ebba,” he says when she hands over a sliver of pastry. “And you’re right, Wille is a great friend. He’s always looking out for me.” 

Simon reaches out and gives Wille a friendly pat on the shoulder, but then slowly slides his hand down Wille’s back and pinches the soft skin of his hip, saying, “He knows exactly what I like.” Ebba doesn’t seem to notice the drop in Simon’s tone or the way Wille’s knees buckle slightly at the look Simon is giving him, she just nods again. 

“How long have you two been friends, then?” 

“We met in school,” Wille squeaks out when Simon looks up at him expectantly, hand now having traveled a bit lower to slip into the back pocket of Wille’s shorts. 

“That’s nice,” she says. “You know, my son is also still very close with his best friend from school. That boy is like my second son, after all these years. Of course, they’re married now, but the principle stands. Lifelong friends are very important.” 

Wille lets out surprised chuckles at her words. As Ebba continues to tell them about her son and his husband, Wille leans over to whisper, “Do we not look like a couple?” 

Simon shrugs and smiles teasingly. “She must have missed your hard-launch speech all those years ago.” 

“Sounds like I need to put a ring on it, so people know you’re mine,” he mumbles into Simon’s ear, relishing in the goosebumps that break out across his beautiful skin and the tiny gasp that falls from his lips. Simon squeezes at his bum with the hand still tucked in his back pocket, and Wille has to swallow a yelp. 

Ebba continues to tell them tons of rambling stories, but eventually they manage to pick out a few pastries for an early lunch and tip her kindly for her time. Wille finds a cute ceramic on a shelf and buys that, too, which Simon rolls his eyes at. They wave goodbye, promising to come back and visit, and exit the bakery.

Wille holds out his new purchase, a well-crafted sculpture of two orangey-pink fish kissing, and giggles. “It’s us.”

Simon hums and wraps his arm around Wille’s waist, leading him down the street. “Friends don’t kiss like that,” he says.  

Wille steps in front of Simon, then gently grabs him by the chin and presses a lingering kiss to his lips. “Good thing we’re not friends.” 

.

“Are we not friends?”

“Simoooon.”

“I’d like to think we’re both, at the very least.”

“You know what I meant. Come here.”

[writingfish]

Why did this end up being 1k+ words? It's just Stephen trying to talk to the Ancient One and noting all the differences between his Kamar-Taj and this Kamar-Taj. This is getting long enough that I should stick it on AO3, but I have neither title nor summary.

They took a portal to Kamar-Taj. He only hesitated slightly. It wasn't like The Ancient One could strand him on Everest midway through. Stepping through a portal only took a second. Though to be fair to her, it had worked. He had learned how to surrender, was still learning that lesson.

One of the temple's courtyards could clearly be seen through the orange glow. It was empty of people, but the deepening dark of the sky explained why. The Ancient One-he'd have to remember to get her name this time or at least something to call her by- stepped through the portal without glancing back. Mordo pushed him forward and he nearly tumbled through. Reality rearranged itself so he didn't.

The smell of spice hit him first. He'd nearly forgotten what it smelled like. Chili, cumin, and other spices whose names he'd long forgotten. Someone had told him once, naming each spice as they handed it to him so he could sprinkle it in the pot. Wong perhaps?

His breath caught and he forcibly exhaled and inhaled. The air was crisp and chilly, settling into his lungs. The bite of winter was not yet gone. It was quiet too, though he could hear the faint sound of bells ringing in the wind, the faint flapping of flags hung between roofs.

The portal closed behind them and The Ancient One turned, walking inside. She didn't look back. He followed before Mordo could push him again.

The hallways had less color in them now. Their latest crop of initiates had started to put up whatever artworks they could find on the walls after they had finally finished rebuilding. There had been an entire wall full of graffiti-style art in one of the west hallways, thankfully on canvas. Master Yama would have made them all scrub it off the walls otherwise, no matter who was or wasn't involved.

Their footsteps were very loud; he missed the rugs. America had loved them, stating that she hadn't really gotten to see many rugs in her travels. She'd enjoyed beating them on the line to shake out the dust, dirt, and other debris on cleaning day.

He swallowed, footsteps faltering. America was gone. She had been pulled into one of the chasms. Her hand reaching for him before the multiverse had taken her. He had no way of knowing where she was or even if she was safe.

Grief threatened to rise, sharp and sticky. Fog covered it, pushing it beneath a blanket of calm.

Ahead of them, The Ancient One stepped into a room. He followed her in.

It looked remarkably similar to the room he'd first met her in. The balcony was where he remembered it, with the snowcapped mountains beyond. The bookshelves were against the same walls, the low table in the same place, and Master Hamir sipping tea in the very same spot. Why was Master Hamir here?

The Ancient One gestured to an empty seat. He sat.

Mordo stepped close, towered over him. His hands ached, deeper, near the tendons. He wanted to rub them, warm them. The cold wasn't helping. But Mordo was still there. He wouldn't show weakness.

Power nudged him, an offering. He pushed it away gently. This Mordo wasn't his Mordo. But he would probably try to kill him all the same at some point. The Mordo from universe 838 had tried too.

"Mordo," The Ancient One said and held an entire conversation with her gaze when Mordo looked at her. Her eyes flicked to the doorway again and Mordo sighed. He gave Stephen a long look before leaving. He couldn't interpret it. He had long lost familiarity with any of Mordo's expressions. Hate being the exception.

Silently, Master Hamir pushed a cup of tea towards him. It was filled just enough so it wouldn't splash when his hands inadvertently jerked. He picked it up and immediately curled his hands around it. Warmth seeped into his fingers, the ache turning gentler. It wouldn't ease, not for a long time yet.

The Ancient One closed the door, sat across them, and stared at Stephen intently. What did she see? He probably looked the same as in her visions. His hands weren't strong enough for shaving yet and Soul had said not to use any power. He had only ignored it the once.

Master Hamir handed her a cup. She took it, still keeping her eyes on him, and took a sip. The same blanket calm was on her face.

"You are different than I expected," she said.

He frowned at her. She'd never introduced herself nor had anyone introduced her this time.

"And you are?"

"They call me The Ancient One," she said and offered nothing further. Cryptic as always.

"That's a mouthful. Can I get a name?" Time laughed in his head.

The Ancient One laughed too, the blanket calm breaking out into amusement. Incredibly, Master Hamir laughed as well. He'd never laughed when Stephen had been at Kamar-Taj, though he did remember some of the initiates trying to make him.

"You can call me Morgan," The Ancient One said. Morgan, like Morgan le Fay, like Tony Stark's daughter. Grief welled in him again, hot and sharp as it had been during Stark's funeral. The memory of Morgan crying in her mother's arms rose, sour. He cut it before it could form fully and took another sip of tea.

"Well, Morgan, " he said. "Why am I here?"

"To learn magic of course."

She'd rejected him the first time, had made him wait five hours on the doorstep before letting him back in. Why had she changed her mind now? The stones laughed at him. Right, he was changing things by just being himself. Should he tell her?

Time wouldn't have. It loved its surprises.

But, she could help him. Thanos was coming. It seemed to be a fixed event in every universe he'd visited. You've only visited three properly, Reality said. It sounded amused.

He opened the connection and let the stones' presence come forward. They were always with him now, though they were kind enough to stick to the background.

We don't want to fracture your sanity any further, Mind said, ominous. The world chilled, sharpened. Familiar unease twisted in his stomach. The hole in him gaped, a muted horror starting to fill it. Yellow-orange threads dulled the emotions before they could fully sharpen. His mind went a little fuzzy, artificial calm taking over him. Why were they doing this?

It's not safe yet, Soul said gently. It was always gentle, warming him down to his core.

"You are thinking very hard," Morgan said, drawing him back into the room. She was observing him as if he was a fascinating relic that she had come across. He could be, he definitely wasn't human anymore. Maybe they'd store him like an object, locked away in a glass container until he chose a sorcerer to bond with.

That's the Cloak of Levitation, Space said, helpfully. Not you.

Should he trust her?

Your choice, the stones offered, unhelpful.

Why couldn't they make the choice for him? They owned him. He had offered them everything had, everything he was, in an effort to draw them back together so they could be the universal anchors once more. It hadn't worked. It was too late and reality had shattered around them.

The Ancient One, Morgan, was still waiting for an answer. She was patient, but how long would that last?

He took another sip. The cup was empty.

"I already know magic," he started slowly. Morgan leaned forward, folding her hands underneath her chin.

"There was an incident."

Grief surged through him before it was quickly blunted and pushed away. The anger that would have come at that wasn't there. He suspected it was suppressed too.

"An incident?" Still the same blankness, though Master Hamir was starting to look apprehensive.

He nodded, reaching into his pocket to draw out the time stone, and put it on the table between them. Master Hamir gasped, immediately standing up. He and The Ancient One exchanged a look before he was striding out the door. He'd go to check on the time stone in the library. It would still be there.

"I ended up here from the future," he said. Morgan started to ask a question before they were interrupted by Master Hamir stepping out of a portal with the Eye of Agamotto held in his hands. It was open and the stone inside was glowing.

Master Hamir placed it on the table, very nearly dropping it, and backed away quickly. The Ancient One seemed to be speechless.

He was too. He hadn't really believed the stones when they had explained. He'd been trying to push himself out of his mind. He'd been so sure he was dreamwalking, that there was another him trapped with him. Was that why they had decided to blunt his emotions?

"Explain," The Ancient One demanded, "now."

[existslikepristin]

Okay, so I had someone send me an ask last night and now I've been thinking about it all day. It wasn't anonymous, which I appreciate, but I'm not responding to it directly for because

I reached out already to say I'd do some editing, and I've let them know the rest of what I'm about to rant on below, but I want to make sure at least a few more people see this

I flip flop around on how to say this shit all the time. Like, do I say that everyone's a good writer in their own special way? Do I say that you don't need likes and reblogs for validation? I don't fucking know what to say except for maybe one more thing that I'll reiterate until the day I die with various embellishments that will fade in and out

You. Yes you, the person who's reading this who is also a writer/aspiring writer. Come closer. We share a bond, you and I, so really get in physically close

Art can't be contained, you scrunge

If you don't think whatever you're creating is art, go to a damn museum. Or do a virtual tour. Or google the phrase "modern art". It doesn't matter. You're going to see some shit in there that, I would hope, makes you think the artist was a dipwad

I'm ranting more than I thought I would. Here's a keep reading line

You know who fucking sucks at art? Pablo Picasso.

Look at this absolute pile of bullshit, then look me in the eye, and tell me this isn't the colorized manifestation of an elementary school dropout's Wattpad account

"But ELP, Picasso demonstrated actual working knowledge of anatomy. This is just his AbstRACt sTyLe"

SHUT UP. Nobody asked you, Barbara

Picasso, Piet Mondrian, Andy Warhol. Their artworks are money laundering schemes. Their fame doesn't come from their talent. It comes from obscenely rich people trading blood diamond money for crisp, clean, still-fake money by claiming that poor people "don't get it"

And yet, despite popular opinions being developed because of ridiculous sums of money being pegged up these guys' assholes, artists today still find meaning in their works, tunneling straight through their cognitive dissonance to tell themselves that, no, I actually enjoy staring at blocks of washed out color until my retinas have burnt in just the right spots that I can see an actual human face because an art teacher once told me that these pictures got the most likes on the pre-internet Tumblr

Does that mean people don't actually like this art? Am I trying to tell you you shouldn't like this art? Maybe, but then you'd be obligated to remind me that Churchgirleum Yawjinius is a disgusting assault on your imagination and yet has as many likes as Definitely Real Medicine, which you wouldn't believe was actually written with all the earnestness my void of a chest cavity could muster

Take it from someone who willingly threw away the opportunity for automatic dozens of reblogs and hundreds of likes per post by telling people to fuck themselves (and still gets a bunch for some reason):

The validation is cool, but it's not worth it

The validation does not define what is good or not

What is good or not doesn't even matter

You're not going to make money off this shit

Someone who is genuinely terrible is going to get more validation than you, and is going to flaunt it in your face, and their writing is still somehow going to mean something to way too many people, and it doesn't matter because their soul is just as unfulfilled by the validation as yours is unfulfilled by the lack of it

What is fulfilling is doing something because you can

You are your only source of real validation, no matter what fuzzy dopamines you get from the vapid click of a like button

Oh, and if you do get the validation of Tumblr notes, that doesn't mean your work is shit or you don't deserve love or whatever. Accept it graciously because it's definitely not uncool that people like your shit, but recognize that it's not going to cure your depression

Art is art. We can look at Roman columns and marvel at how their art built modern civilization (though the Romans can fuck themselves IMO (oh wait they literally did haha)), but did it really? Art makes otherwise brutalist architecture tolerable, but the curly Qs at the bases and tops of columns isn't what kept the coliseum from collapsing on thousands of people watching live murder

If you have a story that has overstayed its welcome in your head and needs to be on paper or on a screen, then write the fucking story. Nobody actually cares about the qUaLiTy of your spelling or grammar. They care about being given permission to think about Karina's tits. Do you think their opinion matters?! I mean, they may have great contributions to make on their own, and they should have voting rights, and it's chill if they have something nice to say to you, but the point is that they're already thinking about Karina's tits regardless of your writing. They're just your thralls to manipulate into thinking about Karina's tits in the way that you, the all-powerful artist, want them to think about Karina's tits. If they try to tell you "Karina's tits would have tan lines" then write a whole fic about how Karina is a nudist and has a perfectly even tan, and who's going to argue about it? The idiot who wrote a pedantic comment? No! It's YOU. THE ALL-FUCKING-POWERFUL ARTIST WHO ACTUALLY MADE SOMETHING TO PROVE YOUR POINT WHETHER OR NOT IT IS CORRECT

If you're an artist, then fucking act like one. Embrace the chaos inherent in creativity. Maybe gentleman is vampire. The poison contains joy. We exist in these devastating, beautiful worlds of contradiction in which we hate people and how lonely we are, we crave kindness and embody violence, and we beg the universe to give us direction despite knowing full well that we're going to zigzag between paths. Maybe you relate. Maybe you don't. THAT'S THE POINT. You're not right. I'm not right. We both write (wow, bars)

I keep saying that everyone should just write, and it's not because I think everyone is secretly a good writer. It's because someone out there needs permission to write after being told their entire lives that their value lies in A, or they're not good if B by all the non-artists in who genuinely don't understand why someone needs to make something impractical to begin the infinitely long road to completion

The dumb fucks who don't understand want to contain you because it's in their nature to desire order. They like to come up with metrics to categorize what counts as art and what doesn't so they can change the rules on you. Chaos always wins though

So WRITE. The world doesn't need your artistry. YOU DO. If you write a bunch of shit and people like it but you quit anyway or nobody likes it and you quit, then idk. Maybe you weren't an artist in the first place, which is perfectly fine, or maybe you're giving your corporate overlords too much control over your mind. If you're an artist, you'll burn with the need to create, no matter how much you create. If you feel that, keep writing

[buckxtommy]

Have you ever posted any speedpaints or beginning-end pieces before? I'd love to see more of what your process looks like! Really enjoy your art!

hi beloved! never posted speedpaints before (whenever i draw i keep having "side quests" where i get distracted from my original work and start drawing silly things on the same canvas esp when i'm bored so my speedpaints are embarrassing fjfj) but i can absolutely post beginning end pics for u w a detailed written walkthrough. <3

step 1: simple sketch. getting good at proportions requires a lot of anatomy study & figure drawing practice & letting go of idea that it has to be perfect <3

step 2: linework. so this is procreate's 6B pencil. it won't give you clean lines, you can zoom in and see that. it's not my favorite, i'm still in the process of discovering brushes and brushsets, and if you want to get more crisp & clean lines sharp inking brushes are the way to go.

this is also not very stylized, except i usually draw the eyes bigger than they are. i'm still trying to figure out what my style is, and i hope to have an established style one day.

step 3: laying down flat colors. i usually just pick mid tones for this.

step 4: shadows. one of the things i'm still trying to learn is soft and hard edges. this is also something you'll only get good at w practice

step 5: more shadows where you need them!

step 6: undertones!!!! honestly to me rendering skin is still one of the hardest things ab painting. we're not one solid color, we don't look homogenous. my tip for this step, don't be afraid of the colors (bec i used to be very much afraid of them fjfjd) we're not just beige or brown or dark brown. don't hesitate to put purple and pink and blue and yellow and orange while you're rendering the face bec we have all of those colors in our undertones.

step 7: putting some color in the shadows!

step 8: basic highlights. again there are soft and hard edges here too

step 9: the different lights.

step 10: i go through the same steps with lips and eyes, though i will rb this ask w a speedpaint of how i render eyes <3 i also put shadows and higlights on clothes on the same layer, just because i find that more convenient & easier. i also added details like the beard, tattoos, chest hair, highlights on the hair, and the background.

there you go! this is in no way a tutorial, i've been only learning how to draw digitally and this is like my 20th digital painting Ever, i still very much struggle with rendering and lights and shadows etc. but lots of practice & watching tutorials from artists u aspire to help a lot <3

one of the artists that give me insane artists envy is Likelihood Art, if you enjoy my art you would love hers!! she has a couple tutorials on her youtube channel too so i'd recc you to check those out <3

i hope this helped at least a little, i always feel like my process is kind of all over the place, i'm trying to get better at it too 🥹 thank u so much for the compliments!!!!! you made my day. mwah!

[inkiedraws]

I love your T'sovik drawings!!!! How do you make the lines so crisp and clean? Mine are messy as hell. 😑😑

Thanks a lot!

Not sure! I don't really view my line art as crisp and clean either.

I think the trick is to not to focus on making the art super clean but instead make the movement and flow of the lines look natural?

Hope that helps!

[acorviart]

I love your ceramics!!! I recently started to get into ceramics as well and it's super fun to see the designs you've come up with :D your art translated beautifully into pottery <3

I was wondering, for the orange trinket bowl, how did you go about the glazing? Because the glaze I use requires three coats of paint and so the lines don't look as crisp :(

Excited to see more of your ceramics work!!! <33

thank you!!

Normally I've been using Amaco Velvet Underglazes, but the melon/orange bowl used Mayco Stroke & Coat which is different from other underglazes in that you don't need to clear glaze over it because it fires to a gloss finish just by itself. They all require 3 coats though, so I think I was just careful at the edges. If there exists an opaque underglaze that doesn't require 3 coats, someone tell me because painting underglazes drives me insane _(:3」∠)_

Also I don't wanna say the stoke & coat is any better than the velvet underglaze for clean edges because it did bleed together on my little nessie figure, I assume because that wasn't a flat surface and the gloss firing means the stroke & coat will melt just like other glazes, whereas underglaze just kinda stays there.

tldr; I was just careful at the edges and made sure there wasn't too much overlap (the fact that it was a solid dark color next to white prob also helped to hide mistakes)

also please someone tell me there's a magical underglaze that only requires one coat and is completely opaque. please can we invent the technology

[robottheodorlasso]

Hey- first of all love your art thank you so much for doing what you do-

Secondly, I absolutely love that I can see how stamp making has influenced your art. Like- Your forms and lines are so clean and crisp it’s just amazing to look at.

Again, love love love your work!! Thank you for existing

From @dirkydirkyheart

Thank you so much for sending this ;;-;; I’m glad you enjoy my work!! And I’m always so happy to hear comments like this. I love carving/printmaking/stamp making so much it’s inane I’m so glad it shows in my digital work as well

Funny anecdote: I actually got back into carving in 2021 because of my digital art style!

Ive never been a big fan of pen brushes, but I wanted more line weight in my work, so I started to carve my digital lines more, which gives my more polished work a unique look imo, And then I developed a particular layer management system because I do not like digitally painting + I needed to combat RAM/storage issues

So one day while drawing I was thinking about how much I missed carving and print making and have wanted to get back into it for the past 5 years or so and was like?? Wait Hold on, that’s just what I do now, but digitally… if I miss it so much why don’t I just take the plunge and get back I to print making again? that was two years ago LMAO and here I am!

So now I try my best to make a print once a month (I’m like two prints behind rn but I’m working on it!) And I think doing so has let me become looser in my digital art, bc the need to carve is fulfilled by, well, actually physically carving… which is nice! Bc it means I can actually finish digital sketches much faster and not feel like I HAVE to spend 30+ hours on pieces… it’s a nice change of pace imo

[creatrixanimi]

I really do love your stuff, your lines are so crisp

Thank you anon! This is one of the most interesting compliments i get on my art somewhat regularly because I struggled with lines/lineart for SO long so its really great to hear. I don't even know at what point it became one of the things i was actually pretty good at XD I guess i just have to say if any artists out there struggle with lineart, it will get easier! Even if you dont focus on it too much! Also cleaning up sketches is a great way to figure out how you like to do your lines bc it doesnt always have to be like when ppl do the same stroke 100 times until its perfect.

[ruthiesrambles2]

Ruthie rewatches: Season One, Episode One (part one)

Here have a stream of consciousness as I watch. Had so much to say that I'm cutting off halfway through the episode because it's taken me an hour and a half to get this far.

Ohhh the animated intro! I forgot about this. I remember first watching this and being enthralled. Fucking love the art and the transition to live action.

Baby Miles… Oh. This scene fucks me up more every time. His dad and sibling being left outside??? Let me tell you that has killed me now we have K2.

Yeah yeah Layton is already boring sorry. Do love the face he pulls at Grey though. Feel kinda bad for Grey, there's zero redemption for him he's just straight up bad guy.

Can I take a minute to appreciate the intro? I'm in love with the blueprints and I wish there existed a full version (not that that would work given the amount of disbelief we have to suspend).

What is the thing on the engine room door? I keep trying to work it out, it doesn't look like a standard W or anything.

Aw yiss boss lady emerges!

We get a shot of a jumble of paperwork on a messy desk and then the booth itself is neat and spotless. 100% the desk is Melanie's and no one can touch it but Ruth cleans the booth.

Also there's a Dell laptop. Strange mix of tech on this show and we see surprisingly little of it.

Perfectly central and still shot of Melanie in uniform. The crisps lines. The colouring. Yes.

Melanie has sensible nails. Only one possible explanation for that, clearly. Gay.

Our introduction to the train… classroom is cool but confusing. It seems the number of children is quite small and a broad age range but all the work and art seems to be primary level. There must be at least one more classroom. Third class. Tail. Watch the colour seep out of shots.

Something about measuring days since departure. I love it but surely that would be so depressing. Every day it's "everyone you know in the world died x days ago. Praise Wilford"

The balls on Josie. The swagger on Till!!

So we've got Josie the vet being the closest thing we have to a doctor in the Tail but here's an extra who clearly knows how to use a stethoscope. We won't ever see her again.

Strong Boy my lad!! What a character. Not sure who's hairbrained idea it was to give up rations for one (1) super-soldier (mediocre grade). Probably Layton's.

Why isn't Miles as bedraggled as the other kids? He's not only clean but smiley too. Layton proximity powers.

Pike with hair! I have no love for the character but really starting to appreciate Steven Ogg's acting.

13 Arms. How many nightmares did Ruth have that night huh. The sound of shattering frozen flesh rings a little like champagne glasses, doesn't it? How many times did she relive that day setting up for First Class dinners. Forgive me I am 8 minutes in and already daydreaming about her.

Mama Grande… Miss you babe.

"I don't want you on the front line tomorrow" uhh I'm sorry Mr Layton but who do you think you are. Leave Miss Balls of Steel Josie alone she doesn't need your patronising bullshit. Oh wait, kiss/cuddle/domesticity. Eh. Let you off then.

OHHHH TIME FOR THE BEST SCENE IN THE WHOLE SERIES. MAMA GRANDE SING IT. This scene is honestly breathtaking. The song, the prayer, the weapons, the togetherness.

"Wilford's train is a fortress to class" excellent line is excellent.

God the faces shown here. Knowing they're going to be ripped from us. Not all at once but. Most of them.

Melanie at the steps to first class dining… they mirror this shot in s3 and it's such a great call back.

How does she walk in those heels? My feet hurt just looking at them.

Iguana time!

Incredible variety of food at breakfast time considering the delicate balance of the food system.

Gay dad time!

Throwing in Melanie speaking Cantonese to remind us she's SuperSmartGeniusGirl

First shot of my most specialist blorbo!! She looking so fine.

Look how in step Melanie and Ruth are. The mirroring! The eyelash flutter. Gay.

Also obsessed with the difference in cut between their uniforms. I wonder if the rest of hospitality have their uniforms tailored to body shape too.

Lilah, baby, they invented the sauna. They can be nakey and sing songs. It's OK. Bodies are natural.

LJ with the sunglasses. Girl who packs sunglasses to get on a train travelling forever through a perpetual winter wasteland? Iconic. Her fashion is so baby gay here. Bi LJ is basically canon right?

Why does Melanie turn to look at Ruth like she's staring into her soul. Gay.

OH NO. Eye flutters to Lilah now. Super gay.

TRACK TALK. For every ounce that @train-pirate hates it I double down on loving it. I'm keeping it. I'm going to say it to you all the time. Track talk.

Arm touch arm touch! Gay.

Walking brushing against each other! Gayer.

Fixed stare open mouth. Even gayer.

Eye lash flutters. Getting gayer.

"Excuse to wear your fur" + tongue click. GAYEST. WE HAVE REACHED PEAK GAY. THESE BITCHES FUCKING IT'S CONFIRMED.

Back to the Tail. Has anyone checked Pike can actually count? The man's just throwing up fingers he has no idea. Also look buddy. It's the woman you're gonna bang once and die for. Started from the bottom didn't ya.

Alison has confirmed it's a faux fur. So I can have a clear conscience about the way I'm looking at Ruth in it, right? ✨Respectfully✨

Alison my beloved. Pick an accent. I love it.

Tristan! Baby.

Ruth does not have the gay nails. Pillow princess.

I know we get this decontamination scene to see Layton dehumanised but they are not consistent with it at all. The jackboots and brakeman have no infectious disease control protocols so what's the point?

The subtrain seems set up for engineering/maintenance purposes but they talk about it later like whole swathes of people use it. Do you think it was designed like that or did people start using it as a shortcut after departure and Melanie couldn't stop it?

Okay I've gotta give it to DD his acting of a hungry man facing his favourite food is really great. I don't understand grilled cheese and tomato soup though. Shit tier food combination.

Okay so there's been debate about how Osweiller came to be a Brakeman and the consensus is he joined W security before the freeze. But the way Roche phrases it here "most of us were Wilford security. Some were… soccer players?" makes it very much seem he wasn't. Os is smart and resourceful but I so wanna know how he got in.

Ohhhhh Miles calling Josie mom. Crush my heart why don't you.

"yall got some serious problems up in here" Sassboy Layton. And the face he gives Osweiller. Okay DD you're winning again.

"What about his… Um…dick?" spoken like a true lesbian Bess Till.

Footie jokes. Just bantz innit.

"smooth relations". Girl. You're so awkward.

Melanie's eye contact is so strong. Forceful even. Unusually long. Autie vibes for sure, that's learned behaviour and masking and overthinking. Just doesn't look as creepy when you have a face like JC's.

… How does never-left-the-Tail Layton know what the Drawers are? He just rolls with it.

To be continued…

[kimium]

You could always ramble about…your favourite things from Twisted Wonderland👀👀👀

By gosh friend, you're RIGHT. Thanks for the suggestion! (In relation to this post.)

Here are my favourite things about Twisted Wonderland:

The character designs

Unsurprisingly, one of the strongest aspects to Twisted Wonderland are the character designs by Yana Toboso, mangaka of Kuroshitsuji. Her art style is so clean and crisp, with thin line art, beautiful colours, and costume/clothing designs that are breath-taking. Even if you think some aspects are a little busy (ex: Heartslaybul's dorm uniform) there is a clear theme. Truthfully, I think her clothing designs are on the same level as CLAMP who in my mind are mangaka Queens of clothing design.

2. The characterization

Now, I admit I don't know how much of this is in Yana's hands VS Disney executives for Twisted Wonderland, but I think all of the main cast have fun, colourful personalities that are more than surface appearance. It would be easy to fall into tropes, but every character goes beyond their "character trope". Example, Vil who as I said in a prior post, surprised me with his character depth.

3. The story

I love the writing in Twisted Wonderland. I find every book fun and entertaining. Every event is also very fun, with characters you don't expect to interact shoved together. Adding vignettes to the cards also helps establish more characterization for the cast and develop the world. Also, I really love the trend of past book dorm coming in to help us in the next book.

4. Events

Speaking of story telling, I really love the events. Not just for the story telling aspects mentioned above, but the fact that they're evenly spaced. I like the time allocated to complete each event and I don't feel smothered by endless event upon event. (Something I think Obey Me! does and it really mentally drains me.)

5. Twistunes

Not sure if this an unpopular opinion, but I have always been a fan of rhythm games. I find the challenge fun (even when sometimes getting that SS for hard mode is a giant PAIN) and rewarding. It's also why I've 100% completed every Twistune so far (in the English server).

6. The music

Tying into my previous point, I really love the music in Twisted Wonderland. I think every dorm's music perfectly fits the dorm's aesthetic and style. My favourite one so far, by the way, is Octavinelle's jazz music.

7. The ships

Like any fandom, ships are a natural progression of the fandom's interaction with the material. I think some of the ships to come out of Twisted Wonderland are fantastic. I already talked in a prior personal post my favourite Twisted Wonderland ships, so I won't say too much more here.

8. The unique magic

I'm always a huge sucker for magic unique to the caster. Usually it ends up a reflection of the character's personality. One gripe I have with fantasy series are magical abilities that are too generic. Not that I have anything against elemental magic, but giving a different spin on abilities really helps make the ability and character stand out.

While sometimes for Twisted Wonderland characters their unique magic reflects the Disney character they're twisted from (most notably Azul and Jamil's in my opinion), I think in the end they're not just copy and paste.

(Side note: My favourite unique magic (so far) is Vil's. Second goes to Riddle's due to the sheer hilarity of him screaming "Off with your head!" and having a big, tacky collar snapped around your neck. I actually have a mini list of my favourites but we'll save that for another day.)

9. The ease in rewards (for pulling characters)

Another game play aspect that might seem silly to mention, but hear me out. I think mobile games live and die by the way they treat Free to Play players. Mobile games that are less generous tick me off because if you're not going to treat FTP players right, just make your game a full-fledged game that I pay to buy. No one should have to be severely punished for being a FTP player, as not everyone has the money/desire to spend on a game but still wants to have a good time.

Twisted Wonderland is probably one of the best games (at least from my roster of mobile games) to give rewards that make it easy to summon. The keys from the birthdays are a huge point for me, as you are not limited to using them on the birthday banner. They also gave us TWO sets for Jade and Floyd which Surprised the Hell out of me.

Now admittedly I don't play a lot of gacha games (my main one being Fire Emblem Heroes), but Twisted Wonderland is on my list for "pretty generous".

(Which, side note, I also like that in a 10 pull you're guaranteed a SR. It's the least you can do to not just reward players who save their rewards, but also keep pulling something that players want to do. Gacha games live and die by summons.)

10. The ease for beginners to play

Again, this might be something odd to mention, but this is coming from someone who plays Fire Emblem Heroes and has to deal with over-bloated meta and text descriptions that Literally Need to be in Small Font. (I am looking at you Duo Ephraim's weapon refine :/ I don't care that majority of you is clarifying what a Bonus and Canto (Rem. +1) means. Yes, I understand this makes no sense to anyone who does NOT play FEH.)

I think Twisted Wonderland is largely a game that is easy for people to pick up. There is little terminology or "stats", if there is a meta game, it's relatively light and not 100% necessary to understand, and in story mode most things are set to easy.

So, there we have it. Things I like about Twisted Wonderland presented in a ten reasons list because Why Not?

(Bonus: I like Twisted Wonderland because you also play it and so we can share and talk about it to one another :D)

[crabussy]

5 abd 11 for artist asks ?

digital or traditional?

this is a hard one…. Ogughghhvhghgh

I love traditional art because it’s so much faster and it makes me less of a perfectionist! I love the feel of drawing with a ballpoint pen and I really like how I have so much more control over weight and opacity consistency (I use shitty $2 pens from a 711 on purpose because they can be really faint or really dark depending on how you press them)

BUT DIGITAL ART. It allows for such clean colouring, such smooth crisp lineart,,, you can go back if you fuck up…… it’s so hard to choose man </333 I usually sketch traditionally and line etc digitally, best of both worlds (:<

11 has been asked already, I’ll answer that ask right after this one!!

[writingfish]

A look at the past, contrasted with the present. This Stephen reminisces a lot more than I expected.

---

They took a portal to Kamar-Taj. He only hesitated slightly. It wasn't like The Ancient One could strand him on Everest midway through. Though to be fair to her, it had worked. He had learned how to surrender, was still learning that lesson.

One of the temple's courtyards could clearly be seen through the orange glow. It was empty of people, but the deepening dark of the sky explained why. The Ancient One-he'd have to remember to get her name this time or at least something to call her by- stepped through the portal without glancing back. Mordo pushed him forward and he nearly tumbled through. Reality rearranged itself so he didn't.

The smell of spice hit him first. He'd nearly forgotten what it smelled like. Chili, cumin, and other spices whose names he'd long forgotten. Someone had told him once, naming each spice as they handed it to him so he could sprinkle it in the pot. Wong perhaps?

His breath caught and he forcibly exhaled and inhaled. The air was crisp and chilly. The bite of winter not yet gone. It was quiet aside from the faint sound of bells ringing in the wind, the faint flapping of flags hung between roofs.

The portal closed behind them and The Ancient One turned and walked inside. He followed before Mordo could push him again.

The hallways had less color in them now. Their latest crop of initiates had started to put up whatever artworks they could find on the walls. There had been an entire full of graffiti-style art, thankfully on canvas. Master Yama would have made them all scrub it off the walls otherwise, no matter who was or wasn't involved.

Their footsteps were very loud; he missed the rugs. America had loved them. She'd enjoyed beating them on the line to shake out the dust, dirt, and other debris on cleaning day.

He swallowed, footsteps faltering. America was gone. She had been pulled into one of the chasms. He had no way of knowing if she was safe or even where she was.

Ahead of them, The Ancient One stepped into a room. He pushed the grief down, caged it in that hollow part of himself where everything else lay and followed her in.

It looked remarkably similar to the room he'd first met her in. The balcony was where he remembered it, with the snowcapped mountains beyond. The bookshelves were against the same walls, the low table in the same place, and Master Hamir sipping tea in the very same spot. Why was Master Hamir here?

The Ancient One gestured to an empty seat. He sat. Mordo was still looming. His hands ached, deeper, near the tendons. He wanted to rub them, warm them. The cold wasn't helping. But Mordo was still looming. He wouldn't show weakness.

Power nudged him, an offering. He pushed it away gently. This Mordo wasn't his Mordo. But he would probably try to kill him all the same at some point. The Mordo from universe 838 had tried after all.

"Mordo," The Ancient One said and held an entire conversation with her gaze when Mordo looked at her. Her eyes flicked to the doorway again and Mordo sighed. He gave Stephen a long look before leaving. He couldn't interpret it. He had long lost familiarity with any of Mordo's expressions. Hate being the exception.

Silently, Master Hamir pushed a cup of tea towards him. It was filled just enough so it wouldn't splash when his hands inadvertently jerked. He picked it up and immediately curled his hands around it. Warmth seeped into his fingers, the ache turning gentler. It wouldn't ease, not for a long time yet.