30. What piece of yours do you think is underrated
I'm curious!
Honestly? I can’t think of a single drawing that hasn’t gotten more engagement than I ever dreamed of on Tumblr. Many of my posts on Instagram were lucky to reach up to eight likes and comments collectively on a perfect day, and my posts on here that include art usually get around 30 notes at the lowest— and that’s just for the first 24 hours!
If I had to choose one, maybe that canvas full of brainstorming doodles of possible monster designs for a creature catcher I’d like to make someday? Ultimately, though, it’s not my best work and I tried to crank it out really fast— I think it did pretty well for what it is and the number of followers I had at the time of posting it. It also performed a lot better here than it did on Instagram! 17 likes is a lot more than 3, hehe.
Really though, I’m still flabbergasted that any piece I post on here gets more than twelve notes in a month before dying off entirely. The more time I spend here the more I realize Instagram is heck on earth for artists trying to get a business of the ground. You guys are angels 😭
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i'm almost off to my summer training camp arc and will be around only sporadically till the end of next week ♡
you'll probably see me more active on my side @sodaneko where i'll hopefully catch up with my reading list of all fics i have bookmarked since forever
i don't have anything queued or scheduled on here so no fic updates meanwhile but you could go and read Replica and tell me who you think the mystery drummer of chapter 01 should be hehe
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I don't want a modern lesbian carabiner I want Chatelaine Keys. My brain went "what are Victorian housekeeper belt keys called" girl it's chatelaine it is the same word as the proprietress slash hostess of the stately home, you're not THAT far gone to fairyland, yeesh
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Daily excerpt from yesterday's writing, The Nascent Diplomat 41:
'I want to leave,' Gwyn said, his voice raw. 'This place, it is so perfect for the vench, and I think parts of it even suit you, but I'm not suited to never seeing the sky, or feeling the wind. A proper wind. Waiting for my magic to heal is such a burden. I've never hated it more. But it's the only companion I've had, for such a long time. For nearly all of my life.'
Gwyn's shoulders moved with his breaths. His chest moved. He made a faint, amused noise at himself.
Augus walked up to him, stopped before him, and the faint anger from before mounted. Augus just stood there. He wasn't even saying anything.
Gwyn reached out and fisted his hand into Augus' shirt and stared at him. 'Why don't you talk?'
'What do you wish for me to say?'
'You have no thoughts of your own?'
Augus sighed. He placed his hands over Gwyn's where it fisted into his shirt, and cupped his fist. But then pain burst into Gwyn's fingers and they unlocked automatically. Augus had sunk his fingertips – the blunt edges of his claws – into places that forced his hand to loosen. Augus lightened the pressure, but didn't let him go, keeping his hand close to his chest.
'Those healing sessions are gruelling. Today went well, of course it did, but what he heals is part of who you are. You're fractious, and it's cruel of me, but I think you should ask me for what you want instead of expecting it.'
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Christen Press and Tobin Heath attend RE-INC Women's World Cup Watch Party at Chief Clubhouse on July 21, 2023 in Los Angeles, California. (Photo by Jon Kopaloff/Getty Images for RE-INC)
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had to break out my good photocard for this one
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