#anyway yeah. here u go

[caterinaofsiena]

lazarus in love.

not easily conquered, dropdeaddream & whatarefears // work song, hozier // death and the maiden, egon schiele // you are jeff, richard siken

[abstractfrog]

Happy 1 year anniversary to Mr Sherlock Holmes! Here's a litttleee celebratory comic from me

[bacchuschucklefuck]

class swap design masterpost for convenience (from top to bottom: bard!riz, cleric!gorgug, sorcerer!kristen, barbarian!fig, artificer!adaine, and rogue!fabian)

[burningcheese-merchant]

I like the fact that the devs agreed and added the parallel that the ancients are all very kind to themselves, even at their worst, how vulnerable they can be. In chapter 10, HB accepts Lily's wrongdoings, and despite the fact that it took her a while to process her trauma, she tries to make peace with her.

Now with the beasts, it's so different because, if you notice, despite having a problem, they don't try to change their ways. That's why most of them don't understand each other; their philosophy clashes greatly. Despite one of them claiming to be very close, in reality, each and every one of them feels so alone. It's undeniable how many people still believe they're close.

It's fascinating to see their parallels. It's good to know they're not close; it's complex and interesting. I want to add about episode 10 i feel outraged by the fact that no one talks about how complex ES's character was the last part of the episode made me cry because i know she only had one purpose when she was created and the fact that HB proposed to her to leave their garden and go with her was the most painful and touched me so much. (seriously my friends asked me if i was okay because i cried a lot LOL) everyone thinks it's an unrequited love, if it wasn't reciprocated HB wouldn't take the time to understand ES and explain to her that the world doesn't have to be perfect like she describes it. it's an episode with a queer tragedy explained in the hardest but sweetest way possible... And the game is from a country that litteraly is a sin to be like this or not good received as well.

All of the BxA r Indeed were pure art but with different narratives as well

Yeah definitely!! I've always loved the parallels between the Beasts and Ancients - not just individually, but as groups. While they both endured equally great suffering, in the end, the Beasts chose the easy way out. They chose darkness and despair. They chose to inflict their suffering onto others instead of properly addressing themselves and their shortcomings. And what's fascinating is that, for a time, the Ancients chose similarly: Golden Cheese succumbed to delusion and hid herself in a fantasy world in order to assuage her grief, Hollyberry abdicated and ran away from her family and her people and her life, drinking and fighting and partying her woes away, Dark Cacao built literal and figurative walls around himself and shut everyone out, Pure Vanilla was an amnesiac for a while, thus technically foregoing truth (albeit not necessarily by choice), then he allowed himself to be a Cookie of Deceit for a while, White Lily... we know what happened to her lol. But they managed to save themselves because they had each other. For each and every one of them, their salvation and enlightenment came when they remembered their bonds with each other and with others they care for. It was that sense of connection and community, which never ever broke despite everything that happened to them. And then opposite to them are the Beasts, who broke apart and descended into villainy because they themselves did not have those connections; not just in reference to them never having had the chance to live as normal people, but in reference to their bonds with each other specifically. I believe now more than ever that they never REALLY cared for each other. That they were never REALLY friends. If they were, why didn't they help each other when they started corrupting? Example, Burning Spice: I believe that what he needed the most was assurance that the cycle of change is not and does not need to be inherently painful or bleak. That there is good and meaning in that endless repetition. What would've helped was him having a constant in his life; someone or something that was always there with him even while everything and everyone else slipped away, as the cycle of change mandates. For all intents and purposes, the other Beasts should have been that constant; they're immortal too. They're gods too. They're his friends. They WERE his friends. Or... were they not? I don't really think so anymore. What the Ancients have together, the Beasts either had a very weak and fragile copy, or never really had at all. IF they were ever friends, they were pretty shitty ones lol. And that's a big part of why they corrupted, and why they're all so bitter and lonely: they each feel as though no one ever understood them or their struggles, not even their supposed "friends". Then these 5 thieves come along and inadvertently give them that lifeline, to which they all react differently (in how they express their attachment, I mean. They're all obsessed but they let it show differently and to different levels), but underneath those differences lies a shared feeling: "oh God, someone finally understands me, someone finally feels what I feel, I can't ever let them go, I need them". It's so horrendously sad and disturbing and darkly fascinating. I love it. I love these pairs, I love talking about them, I can do it forever

And I agree with you that Eternal Sugar is a complex and very interesting character, and I'm disappointed in the people that think otherwise (I hate saying this, but a lot of the complaints kind of sound like they're just butthurt that Eternalberry was canonized and they're looking for any excuse to tear the update down because of it). She seems to be a step above Mystic Flour in that she really, truly thinks she's doing something GOOD (MF behaves this way as well, but ES is legitimately delusional). She actually thinks she's helping people. Deep down, she DOES understand that she's a bad person and she's only hurting those she claims to care for, Hollyberry included, and this dialogue demonstrates such:

She seems to have succumbed to a form of insanity above that of other Beasts; she is still clinging to her old desires to carry out her godly duties and make people happy, but her perception of such has become so warped that she actually thinks things like keeping people in jars forever is making them happy. Furthermore, she purposefully orchestrates situations that "prove" her mindset and ideals correct (allowing people to leave the garden if they wish ("see? I'm not controlling! I'm not desperate! I'm not a dictator! You can leave, it's ok!"), but having them leave while smelling like the perfume that permeates the whole area so Beast-Yeast monsters are drawn to and attack them, thus forcing them back into the garden and further convincing them that it's a safe haven and they belong there). So much confirmation bias with Sugar, it's crazy. SHE is crazy. She is LEGITIMATELY crazy, a sort of crazy that the others aren't, not even Shadow Milk. It is delightfully awful. She is delightfully awful

And oh... Holly... Holly and Sugar... Passion and Sloth... Them...

One begs the other to stay... The other begs them to wake up and leave. Holly is now the second Ancient to fully, directly express understanding and sympathy towards their Beast. She's now the second to fully, directly state that she wants to be with their Beast.

She's HAPPY at the prospect of them being together. Of being two halves of a soul. She would GLADLY complete Sugar and let Sugar complete her... but Sugar has to wake up first. She has to see the error of her ways. She has to leave her garden. And Sugar agrees to this. She probably didn't really mean it, she was probably just swept up in the Yuri Wave and saying what she thought Holly wanted her to say, but even so. I think it's meaningful. Out of all the Beasts, I think Sugar has the best shot of being redeemed. And she has just the right Ancient to help her with such a thing. (Tbh I think they can all be fixed. Not easily, not right away, absolutely not. It would take time and effort and a lot of very painful conversations and realizations on everyone's part. But I think it can be done. Each of them has shown that one little seed of doubt, of regret, of disillusionment. Each one of them has faltered, if only for a moment. Because of that, I think somewhere deep down inside of them is someone worth saving. But that's just me haha) Beast x Ancient is 5 different, delicious flavors of a beautiful and compelling tragedy and they kill and resurrect me several times a day

[yukiranine]

phaidei but its hi2/ggz kiamei bc i never played hi3

[screwpinecaprice]

Alternate timeline where she didn't meet Steven. I may be exaggerating lmao

Yapping under the cut because I'm waiting on a line rn

Okey, so. Entertaining the thought: An introverted feral kid and a girl who gets a sort of high off adrenaline; but was taught to be polite and proper. You know, all that perfect girl stuff. We would also consider how her empathy level is questionable, based on how she just casually suggested cutting off his arm when it got stuck. (Still not sure if immediately being excited seeing swords is just amazement or 'OOH How convenient!') So perhaps she would learn to understand empathy in a practical (not sure if that's the word I'm looking for) way rather than in an emotional way.

Thankfully she was coaxed out of her shell and she had outlet early on. Also, to have genuinely learned friendship power! 😊

But what if she never got that outlet. 🤔 I mean, she could have gotten out of her shell in a different way. But, like. Imagine if she had to bottle it up all these years. It could go south or she'll be able to manage it because it ain't as bad. Just fun to think about the former.

She would be like: This thing I'm reading is SO morbidly interesting! I wonder what it feels like in a personal level though? Could I do it? Could I do it better now that I have the knowledge of foresight? But what if I still mess up? I can't have a negative record! And the curiosity and the adrenaline just mixes up together. Lol

Haha I'm not really seriously headcanoning that is exactly what's gonna happen. I mean at least not to an intense extent. It's so fun to think about.

[solplease]

vampire rendacted!!!! basically in time for his birthday too so happy birthday to them teehee :]

as always, close ups under the cut! sorry for the weird cropping i had to fix everything bc it fucked up the quality for some reason 😭

[artuurle]

I find I'm still stuck in place after so long.

[grmpgm]

[jadewritesficshere]

Grey

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Synopsis: Steve gets a wake up call from yall's daughter

Contents: talks of aging, kids being kids, references to smut but nothing explicit

Steve groans as his consciousness comes to. Something is hitting his face. Someone. Repeatedly.

Steve squints his bleary eyes open as a hand smacks him in the jaw again. A small smile appears on his face even though his jaw stings from the impact. "Morning," Steve's voice is still thick with sleep as he turns to look into brown eyes barely peeking over the edge of the bed.

A quiet voice repeats back ,"Morning," to Steve before arms reach up over the edge of the bed to try and grasp something. Small hands grab the blanket and tug it off of him slightly as the child attempts to climb up. At two and half, Amelia Joy Harrington can barely see above the edge of her parents' bed, let alone get on it.

Steve hoists Amelia up and sits her on his stomach. Steve winces as Amelia scrambles, a stray foot hitting his thigh precariously close to his crotch. Arms are thrown around his neck in a hug as Amelia lays her head against her dad's chest.

Steve feels like his heart could burst out of his chest from the joy he is feeling. A hug from his baby? The best way to wake up in the morning. Who cares if his jaw is still stinging and probably red, his little girl loves him.

Steve sighs in contentment. Steve holds his daughter close until she starts to fidget and wiggle. Amelia sits up and throws her hands in the air. "Happy Birthday!" She whispers excitedly, except she has no concept of how quiet a whisper should actually be and says it in a much too loud voice.

"What?" Steve asks, hand hovering near Amelia's side in case she slips. Amelia's eyebrows furrow as she pouts at him, a look that is an exact copy of you. Her arms slowly lower as she stares at Steve. "Happy Birthday. You old." Amelia pouts at him.

Steve blinks at Amelia in confusion but nods his head. First off, rude, he isn't that old. Steve isn't sure where she gets her unfiltered, blunt commentary (it absolutely isn't him). Second, it absolutely isn't his birthday. Not even close.

"Why uh...why is it my birthday?" Steve asks, unsure if Amelia fully understands the concept. Not sure if he can explain the idea of a birthday to a two (and a half) year old. "Grey." Amelia declares giving Steve whiplash. Before Steve can speak, Amelia points at the comforter," Blue." Steve smiles," Yes, blue."

Amelia points to her shirt," Green." Steve nods. Amelia taps under Steve's eye, lashes brushing against her finger causing him to close it. Steve hopes she doesn't attempt to actually poke his eye.

"Brown." Amelia declares. "Thats right." Steve grins, his girl is so smart. Amelia points to his temple," Grey." "That's ri- what?! No!" Steve's mouth drops open as Amelia giggles. "Uncle Dustbin says grey is old. Birthday makes old. Happy Birthday!"

The creak of the loose floorboard in the hall notifies Steve of your approach. You peek into the doorway of the room, seeing your two favorite people. One looking aghast and the other giggling at her father's reaction.

"What's going on in here?" You ask, leaning against the doorway. "Grey. Birthday." Amelia announces, like it explains everything. And it does in her little mind.

You hum in response, looking at your husband who seems lost for words. Amelia slides off of Steve and off the bed, Steve guiding her so her feet land on the ground absent-mindedly. He would never let her fall or get hurt. Or you.

Amelia half walks half dances in your direction. A prance in her step, she stops in front of you and grabs your hands. "It's daddy's birthday," She says before headbutting your leg. You chuckle and pat her head as she dances out of the room, in her own little world.

"You lying to my kid again?" You ask once Amelia is gone. Steve sputters as he sits up," I did not- our kid- did not lie." "Uh-huh, sure," you say sarcastically. Steve rolls his eyes at you as he gets up out of bed.

Steve stretches as he rocks on his feet, back cracking, before strolling over to you. "Good morning," Steve mumbles, hand landing on your hip. You hum back as he leans in and kisses you. Soft. Slow. Sweet. Leaving you longing for more as he pulls back.

"Love you," Steve says, fingers running along the waistband of your pants. "I love you too," you want to melt into him. Curl up in his arms and stay in this moment. Let the love and adoration fill the air around you.

"Do I look old?" Steve is the first to break the silence. Your brow furrows in confusion," huh?" "Amelia she," Steve huffs out a laugh," said I have grey hair." You chuckle as you bring a hand up, fingers threading through his hair," You have some but its nice." "Its nice huh?" "Makes you look distinguished. Handsome." You bite your lip and look up at him.

Steve knows that look. Knows it well. It's the look you gave him the first time you moved past just making out. The same look you gave him on your first anniversary. The same look you wore on your wedding night. The same look you gave before Amelia was conceived.

Steve can't help the smirk that spreads across his face. If getting old gives him that look, well, he won't complain.

"What about me?" You ask, batting your lashes. "Beautiful," Steve kisses your cheek," Gorgeous," he kisses the corner of your lips. He continues to alternate between kissing all over your face and praising you.

"My love," Steve whispers before kissing you softly on the lips. You sigh into the kiss, one hand tangling in his hair, the other trying to pull him closer.

A loud crash from the living room has you two pulling back from the sweet moment you stole. "What was that?" You call down the hall. "Nothing!" Amelia yells back, making you sigh but smile. Steve can't help but grin too. His life was a little hectic dealing with a rambunctious child, but he wouldn't trade it for the world. And he thinks, if life is like this, he can manage getting old with you. He wouldn't want it any other way.

[shouyuus]

>“college roommate!vi who goes real quiet the first time you laugh in her presence, a real laugh, not one of those ha-ha ones you snipe at her when she's trying to get a rise out of you, or teasing you about spending all your time in the library, but one that shakes your shoulders and makes your whole face light up.”

inserts that one reaction image with the badly drawn figure head in hands blushing. ahem anyways i’ve been going through your collage roommate stuff again because it’s so lovely i love rereading it!!! your hc stuff is so nice

i feel like just. lovergirl!vi is so real in every universe right like no matter what, she loves so hard and with her whole entire fucking chest. like.

the first time she feels that tingle in her stomach, she kinda knows is already a bit too late. bc like PHEW there's only DOWN from here like she's finna SPIRAL and she KNOWS it.

all rise for simp!vi truthers!!!!

[doctorho]

Thinking about how Jayce would probably lose his marbles if you called him a good boy…..even if it was meant to just be a casual compliment or a teasing one at that he’d lose it. He’s so puppy coded and I need him.

oh yeah. i think his brain would just like. melt a lil bit. like?? he knows that a lot of people look up to him and respect him and all that, but he's also so so far removed from all of it. it's desensitized, the public adoration isn't really for him, the people just like that his near-disaster of an invention worked out for them and their profits.

the first time he hears people call him the golden boy his brain does a little spasm of that can't be right. don't they know he was seen as a dangerous criminal? don't they remember?

they don't know where he came from. and they don't care. it's stupid and pretentious, that they would now applaud him for the same thing he was condemned for before. and he remembers being just-a-student, just-a-foreigner, back when no-one really believed in him. back when they felt sorry for him. rolled their eyes when he talked.

and he knew! he knew what they thought about him.

so now the sudden change of public opinion feels... shallow.

he doesn’t trust it.

he knows he proved them all wrong, and he knows they value his opinion now, he knows they honestly do value what his work brought to them and the progress it's made possible, but that's about it. he doesn’t really let it get close to his skin.

so when you suddenly look at him like you see him, it's all the more jarring.

and then one quiet night he's hauling around some crates in the lab with you, and he picks up something that you're just about to point out needs to be moved, you blink and say good, a little surprised, thanks.

it sounds honest.

like it's for him. truly.

and then you're explaining the order of things again, and he just listens, helps out where he can.

you're only started saying the "can you-" when he's already at the other end of a long crate, ready to help you lift it.

"oh," you say next, "you're well trained."

that rewires his brain a little bit. he needs to recalibrate his breathing. he just barks out a short, surprised, breathless laugh as he lifts.

"Viktor doesn't really do a lot of the heavy lifting around here," he says as a way of explanation, even though that doesn't really feel like an answer. his brain is begging to go somewhere else with this, his muscles purring to life, itching to let him show you how well-trained he could be. gods, you have no idea how good he'd be for you if you asked, he's vibrating with just the idea of it. and the only thing stopping him from telling you this is that he doesn't know how you'd feel about it.

you just hum in answer, and together you lift the crate on top of the pile. he tries to gather his brain from the goop it's turning into. takes a breath. you've got work to do, and you're just co-workers, maybe friends, anything else would be a push.

and then he hands you a tool just as you're about to ask for it, and you hit him with the good boy, and he's pretty sure his brain melts and drips down all the way through his spinal cord, pooling at the pit of his stomach.

he can feel his pupils dilating.

he just takes a breath and tries not to visibly shiver, but he's not stupid. he can see that you've already seen his reaction, and oh, that's just not fair.

it's like you're studying him.

despite being fully clothed, he feels naked, and he can't fucking look away from you regardless. the room is dim and quiet and he knows most people have gone home already, and you're just watching him.

and then you smile a little, knowingly, and move on with the task, and he's left standing there, trying to reel in his brain-goop.

that feeling is left purring in the background of his head for the rest of the night. nothing else out of the ordinary happens, if he doesn’t count the occasional looks you give him, the ones that feel like...something.

and so time goes on. except now he catches you complimenting him more. still in mostly-innocent coworker context, but then every now and then there's a quietly murmured good that feels just enough like something else. something that belongs in the dark, with just the two of you behind a closed door.

and he is desperate to find out if you really mean it like that.

he is desperate for a lot of things.

the next time you're alone with him after hours, unfortunately it's after a whole night of sweet, glittering torture; he's escaped to the lab in the middle of a semi-formal event, at just the respectable point in the evening where he could get away without raising too many questions. and you'd left with him, dressed up in stupid, gorgeous formal wear, with your posture confident and skin shimmering under the golden lights, and he'd felt relieved being out of the crowd and breathless just looking at you.

when he gets to the lab, he immediately pulls out his notebook and starts scribbling down the idea he'd had, feeling like he could finally exhale getting it out.

you linger near, watching, leaning to the desk next to him. hand him an eraser when he needs it.

"thanks," he breathes, trying to ignore how small the space between you two felt. he keeps writing, and doesn't watch you crossing your legs from the corner of his eye.

"no problem," you answer, and then it's quiet until he puts down the pencil.

he looks over his work, and you gently press one single finger to the top of the notebook, tilting it downwards so you could read it too. he lets you, silently, and just watches your reaction.

"good idea," you eventually say.

"you think so?"

you lift a brow slightly. "yes," you answer, then meet his eyes. "why would i lie?"

his head is empty.

"to make me feel better?" he tries, and he knows it's not a real argument.

you hum, let go of the notebook. lean a little closer to him, and fill his senses with your scent in the process. "i'm not really in the habit of doing that. besides," you counter, "i don't need to lie to do that."

your voice is quiet and smooth like velvet when you say that, and jayce is pretty sure his every sense is working in overdrive now. his brain is an ember, still smoking, and his spine is an iron rod glowing hot, waiting to collapse. he's pretty sure he can feel the electricity in the room on his skin.

he meets your eyes and waits.

you smile, and yeah, he's done for. he's warm wax for you to mold as you please, and he's pretty sure that if you touched him now he'd melt to the floor in a single a man-sized puddle.

"you like being praised," you continue, and oh, he did not think that hearing it said out loud would make him feel like this. like his spine was begging to curl in on itself, like he's ready to fold, like he's ready to beg, and you haven't even touched him. "and, conveniently," you smile with a small chuckle, "you are very good at what you do."

he is suffering. he is burning from the inside out, slowly.

because this? strictly speaking, if you wanted to see it that way, this could still just be about work, and the leap it would take to flip it over to something else was miniscule, but still there.

he takes a small, shaky breath.

"yeah?" he asks, his heart shaking. squeezing the edge of the desk just to focus that energy on something.

you smile again. lean a bit closer. "yes," you answer, short and sweet, and then, "and, i'd imagine, at a lot of other things, too."

he exhales a surprised laugh, and closes his eyes, shaking his head a little. swallows around the remains of his composure. "like what?"

"like..." you tilt your head a little, and then place two fingers under his chin, tilting it up slightly, making him instantly meet your eyes. making him instantly melt under your hands. making him want to purr.

"would you get on your knees for me if i asked?" you say, and he feels like he's in a trance as he does, the fire at the bottom of his stomach curling into itself at the action. he holds eye contact the whole way down as best he can, and he likes the small smile you give him and the small thing flickering in your eyes.

"good boy," you say, and tilt his head up gently again, just enough for the presence of your fingers to be there, and the exhale he lets out next is halfway into a whine.

he's been burning for this. and hearing you say that soothes some itch in his brain, swallowing it up in a blazing delicious fire, and he wants to drown in it.

"you've been thinking about this for a while, haven't you." you say, and it's not really a question.

"yes," he answers anyway, exhaling out some of the tension at his core.

"and why didn't you say anything?"

"i was just-" he breathes, then swallows, takes a breath, "following your lead."

your fingers move from his chin to the left side of his jaw, brushing up his cheek gently, and he can barely think. he can barely form words. it's so gentle that his whole body focuses on that one small point of contact.

it's blinding.

you smile at him, and he's pretty sure his brain melts all the way through, his insides all a warm sticky mess, glowing and hot and swirling at the bottom of his stomach.

he'll gladly drown in that, too.

[pup-pee]

bart having 2 learn how 2 run again would ruin me

[cowboyidiot]

steve rogers // sun bleached flies, ethel cain

[scifur]

"You're here.. You're real"

[lucabyte]

Psst. What's your process for Comics? I would like to Know (Because your ISAT comics make me a little bit feral and I would like to learn)

Okay so the cop out answer is: i basically wing it every time since im very very new to making comics and my method is still evolving. but that's not helpful and i like to yap so ill talk through My Method anyway

So first of all: Ideas.

All my ISAT shit is like. extremely dialogue heavy & mostly focused on the same like. 3 topics and philosophical concepts over and over lbr. So mostly when it comes to drafting that I'll just let my brain bash the dolls together until i notice either 1. a fucking banger line (this usually becomes a punchline i then work backwards from when writing it out) or 2. that i keep coming back to the same like 'scene' in my mind.

(I'd love to know. how to make this work for like. OCs??? But I haven't quite cracked that one yet sorry)

For the former though what usually happens there is I write things out on my phone (this happened with the bonnie-centric ones a lot?) or i'll leave a voice note for myself. Or, if i'm at my computer it goes straight into notepad, which is where everything goes before i draw it.

so these are just like. Disgustingly strewn about on my desktop. But this is how i type up the comic scripts, which I do before i put the dialogue in csp because csp's text tool sucks ass, but you can see how these end up having Some Semblance of the final formatting? Some more than others. But they don't have much consistency in how i'm tagging the dialogue LOL. (bonus: one of these i never ended up making. because i come back to the same wells SO FREQUENTLY that it gets embarrasing to retread sometimes) Then I just... screenshot the notepad file and paste it into a csp window LOL.

So I've pulled up three comics just because theyre like, recent ones? (Links to all 3 -> x, x, x) And oh yeah immediately they're rather inconsistent. But this is the level of detail i do in my thumbnails. (Hello Golf Ball Loop) MOST of my long ass comics look like the first one though, and all of them follow the same thought process.

I will take the dialogue, and then just draw a panel that i think works with it. Then move onto the next line, and the next. Basically thinking mostly in speech bubble placement rather than anything? But I'll just keep... going downwards until it is done. You can see the speech bubbles tend to include either nothing or the vaguest indicator of what's inside them.

(The third one here is an outlier because iirc I actually had this very visual idea while drawing something else and went to go quickly draw it out so the text actually went right into CSP bc there was so little of it. But it was still panelled really sequentially for what action I know I wanted in each panel.)

Overall this is probably because of my habits from learning animation? I thumbnail as if im storyboarding, if that makes any sense. Or is any different to how people usually do it, anyway.

My friends who actually read comic books have told me off already for my vile leaning-tower-of-pisa bullshit formatting. I understand their criticisms because genuinely what the fuck am I doing half of the time? I like it though lol. It's a reflection of how stream-of-conciousness my workflow tends to be, but fuck if it means the aspect ratios aren't the wooooorst LOLL

Then i resize the thumbnails to be roughly 1920px wide, aspect ratio be damned. And at this point I usually also have to draw a big grid so that i can align the comic and make it not on a weird tilt. The most thought that goes in here is that I try to avoid making panels too samey in layout from line to line, and try to keep vaguely to making panels the same-ish height but a width of the page either in halves or thirds. Making it so they aren't completely inconsistent sizes does a lot for making things not look too sloppy.

My first sketch over the thumbnail usually is neat enough to be The Final Lines because I'm impatient. EXCEPT when i realise its going to get Fucking Complicated at which point i pull out the CSP models and my beloved cubes. Then i take a billion years to pose a consistent scene (and often realise where I need to cheat angles. Like for loop reaching down to sif's face. That doesn't make sense in 3d space so I had to cheat). This is basically par for the course whenever I want to do a scene where there's Any consistency in character positioning and they aren't just Talking Heads.

THEN. After the sketch (which was done with speech bubble placements in mind back at the thumbnail stage) I will finally put in the speech bubbles. This usually means re-sketching them, then putting the text down and doing all the typesetting (VCR mono looks very ugly in CSP a lot of the time so I fuck with the spacing of individual letters a lot) and THEN redrawing the speech bubbles around them properly.

Sometimes I'll fuck myself over here and have to move stuff but ideally, if I weren't working like some kind of fucking barbarian, I'd do the speech bubbles before finalising the lineart. But I don't on account of going straight from thumbnail to final lines. You'd do this during the sketch stage if you were normal.

then it's finally panel border time. And then when I get to this stage I just make like. another few new layers above everything but the text where i just clean up. Everything that I had neglected while drawing. So any extra white lines or places where i just think things look bad and i want to redraw them entirely. I will also sometimes literally make a flattened copy of an entire panel to just move it around slightly. It's a deeply evil part of the workflow and i apologise for it. But also it's the major benefit to drawing in straight black-and-white with no tones. It means i can just overdraw anything that is unclear in the end.

(and reposting again Links to all 3 -> x, x, x for easy comparison if u want it)

ANYWAY for further reading. I know I've already stated these before somewhere on my blog but for ease of access... The major inspirations for how my comics Look are as follows:

1. tumblr user Floralmarsupial's homestuck comics found [HERE]. She did a LOT of straight up black and white comics that are ingrained deep in my brain at this point. These are always in the back of my head.

2. Leo Fox [LINK] regularly gets really strange and esoteric with overlapping panels and unorthodox layout. I stared at these a lot when i was starting to make the first couple ISAT comics even if i'm not going nearly as abstract as him

3. tumblr user the-hydroxian-artblog's comic Hangin' Out [LINK] has GORGEOUS typesetting and their art in general uses a lot of speech bubbles that convey some really funny shit by just resizing the text in funny ways. Gold standard for emotive typesetting and also their lin weight and b/w illustrations are gorgeous.

4. sonic the hedgehog idw keeps me humble and reminds me to make the speech bubbles fucking SMALLER. if im left to my own devices i make speech bubbles and fonts WAY too big so reading a cleanly formatted professional comic book for children reminds me what i should be aiming for in legibility.

anyway hope this helps? the answer really is "fuck it we ball" tho