#i get that its free and that people would rather not draw if they feel they dont have the talent for it

[spicymotte]

How fandom culture killed my creativity

hi. I have some thoughts about my time in a huge fandom and how it changed me:

First of all, I would like to say that these are my personal experiences in a large anime fandom. I have made very good friends with whom I am still in contact today - and I was exposed to a kind of brain rot that has changed the way I deal with art forever. However, this does not apply to every fandom/every person.

this - essay? - is way longer than I thought it would be. More under the cut:

In 2020, after a long break, I was able to get excited about One Piece again. Until then, I had always considered art important to me and I had never been able to do it professionally. (maybe someday...!)

The One Piece fandom is huge. There are now over 1000 manga chapters and anime episodes, which is gigantic; and the fandom itself is just as huge: millions of fans love this manga/anime and exchange ideas about it on the internet. I was previously very limited to tumblr, but then I ventured into OPtwt, the One Piece community on Twitter. There is a lot of fan art, fan fiction and small cliques that like the same character. There is something for everyone. It was great! I had a hyperfixation phase on OP before, in 2017. Now it came back - so violently that I realized very quickly that I could hardly think of anything else but One Piece.

Hyperfixations involve two major factors: an intense obsession with a character (or theme/media/whatever), which often brings with it a bottomless well of inspiration and motivation for artists – and a strange influence on brain chemistry. Neurodivergent people are prone to difficulties with the release of happiness and rewarding hormones anyway, and even though I am in no way qualified to make grand statements, as a person living with AuDHD, hyperfixations are both a blessing and a curse.

Often, the neurodivergent niches in the fandom communities are very lively. On extremely interactive social media like Twitter, TikTok and Instagram, you are flooded with posts of fan art, discussions and also escalation. It quickly becomes stressful for the brain to keep up with it - especially if you manage to accumulate a large number of followers. (also a blessing and a curse!)

I started posting fanart and OC x canon in 2020. I spent most of the last three years on Twitter and I have to say that it set me back in some ways. At first, I was slow to get to know people through fanart, but then I got to know people very quickly: fellow artists that I am still good friends with today and, unfortunately, people who have also succumbed to an incredible, destructive brainrot. I had chosen a character (or rather, my brain did) who plays almost no role in One Piece. All the better, so I pretty much had him to myself and I could do whatever I wanted. The OC x canon community is generally very friendly and respectful, so I found quite a few people who liked what I drew. Cool!

And then it started. With fanart and a small fan club for my OCs, I got more followers and more likes. More retweets and comments, more notifications. The algorithm started to like me and the growth increased steadily. My fandom (OP) account grew, as did my reach.

I checked Twitter more and more. Every free second I took my smartphone in my hand and checked my notifications. I reloaded the page until I had a new notification. I repeated this on Instagram and tumblr. Sometimes I catch myself doing it today, even though I haven't been active in this fandom for over a year!

Likes were good, retweets better. Every notification of an interaction with my art was a push on the feel-good button in my brain. It's very addictive, even if I talked myself out of it at first. The pandemic was at its peak and the internet was the only way to meet friends anyway. All this shit was fast food for my brain.

Then I started drawing fanarts, even though I didn't feel like it. But the likes had to come from somewhere, didn't they? I drew favorites from manga, characters that I didn't even like that much myself. But they were popular, so that promised likes and reach! Every single day, really every day, I drew fanarts. I was disappointed with myself if I didn't.

As of today, my two One Piece art folders have 80GB of data in it! what the fuck!! That's not normal!

I learned a lot during that time and was able to develop my art. I was able to participate in projects, to draw for several zines and also had a lot of fun – but I treated it like a job. Making fan art your job is very difficult – and has a lot of consequences. If you run a merch shop (as I did for a short time), you always have to follow the hype and draw what's in style. You switch fandoms because the hype has just burned out and the next new thing is already in style. If you're one of the first to offer keychains and stickers - or plushies - you make the big money. That brings profit, but in my opinion you can very quickly step on the wrong foot in this jumping around and slip into burnout. (Or stagnate to such an extent that you lose all motivation to refine your artistic skills and become better at your craft.)

I see friends of mine, many of them, who are trying to live off of fandom merch. They all have one thing in common: their skills in art have remained absolutely the same over the past few years or have even declined. If you have to churn out a new batch of merchandise every week, you have to cut corners. There is no time for experiments and crazy studies when you can hardly live and have to produce merch/fan art that sells 100% well.

I don't mean to offend anyone - it's just that I've been thinking a lot about my own setbacks as an artist since I've been dealing with them so intimately. And I've definitely made some setbacks!

In 2021-2023, fandom life continued and got worse and worse. Checking my smartphone, drawing something every day to post it - just so that the algorithm doesn't sort me out. Posting daily is the number one rule on all Social Media, unfortunately. But I did it, no matter how burned out I felt.

And then there were the dramas on Twitter: internet puritans, antis and proshippers were screaming at each other and tearing each other to shreds (a trap I almost fell into myself! anti and pro are the biggest bullshit ever and I'm lucky enough to have reached a point where I can say: I don't give a shit lol). Callout posts, vague tweeting and aggression instead of simply blocking and moving on. Harassment that I myself experienced: I blocked a few people because I found them strange and unpleasant. They posted explicit things that I did not want to see on my timeline. This triggered a wave of harassment that was simply disgusting. These are people who hate their own lives so much that they can't do anything but feel miserable and stalk strangers online. Admittedly, this made me paranoid: a group of people had chosen me as a target. They passed around screenshots of many of my tweets and made fun of me, copying and stealing my art 1:1. They lied and cheated to make me look like an asshole – and this went on for years. It made me paranoid and was the first step away from fandoms, as it escalated more and more.

So, I was successfully bullied out of the fandom and my hyperfixation was over. It left a terrible void that I am still trying to fill today. Neurodivergence sucks, I'll tell you.

That's when I honestly asked myself for the first time: What the fuck am I doing here? When did I become a content machine for strangers on the internet? Why the hell do I feel so bad when I don't draw for a day? And why do I care what strangers think about me?!

Then I realized that I can't draw anymore.

Without references or the 3D models from Clip Studio Paint, I'm lost. When I try to draw something without any help, I sit in front of an empty canvas. My hands don't do what they're supposed to do and my brain blocks the thought of how drawing even works. My eyes only see the mistakes I make. Everything I draw looks bad to me.

I realized I have a problem.

So I try again and learn it all again from scratch: Anatomy, perspective, color theory, everything. But every time I sit down and try to put something on paper, there's nothing there. I've been drawing things every day for the last four years. Now my hyperfixation on this character and this manga is over and there's nothing left. I've been burning the candle at both ends and I've broken something in the process. Art is no longer something I enjoy. I need art to live and breathe, no doubt, but… the barrel now has a bottom again and it's empty to the last drop.

The little motivation I can muster goes into my webcomic, which is my everything. It's just mine, not a fandom. I feel honored that so many people read this comic. At the same time, I'm afraid that it's not enough; in my eyes, my art doesn't look good. Being surrounded by perfect illustrations on social media all day long distorts one's own perception of art, like the beauty industry that gives you body dysmorphia. On top of that, I haven't had any financial success with my comics in recent years, none at all. The dream of being an independent comic artist has receded so far into the distance that I can no longer see it. Bummer.

The constant stream of content that I gave during my fandom days has set me back incredibly. I can no longer enjoy the process of art, but my brain constantly pushes me to finish it, to have a finished product - because then I can post the drawing and get the virtual handshake that my weird brain likes so much.

Social media detox, of course, is the first thing that comes to mind. It's actually bullshit that we're all so addicted to these apps, but here we are. It's uncomfortable for me to admit, but I have hardly any friends in real life. I'm very introverted and many people find my autism very unpleasant (I can't blame them, I often come across as rude), so I only have 1-2 friends. I would like to have more friends, but maintaining social contact is terribly exhausting. It's hard enough to reply to my mutuals in the DMs (sorryyyyy if I forget sometimes………).

And what if I just take a break for a while and don't draw so much? Recharge my batteries? Right now I'm taking a 6-week break, partly because my jaw surgery is coming up soon. I'll be sick anyway, so why not put the webcomic on hiatus and take a break for a while? I don't know if it will work out, but I have a hunch that it won't, because I always have the fast-paced internet in the back of my mind. How can I be a freelancer if I don't do fanart? How can I make money with it to help my partner, who is currently financing our lives, financially? How can I, as a disabled person, find a job that I can do and at the same time build my career as an artist? As an independent comic artist, I have to do the job of so many people (artist, author, manager, taxes, work organization), how am I supposed to do that?

I have no answers to these questions. Original works don't go nearly as well as fanart! So you have to work ten times as hard and play by the vague rules of the algorithms, which is exhausting enough. Nowadays, you can only be lucky and ride the viral wave if it falls into your lap.

But reflecting on my time in a huge fandom has made me realize that I was going down a very wrong path and am now experiencing the consequences. I'm completely burnt out and no longer know why I'm even making art anymore. I don't know if I want to make art much longer. (I think shit-life-syndrome plays a big role here, but not exclusively.)

As I said, I don't have any answers - but I would at least like to warn those who are having difficulties with distancing themselves from the internet and are quickly losing themselves in this maelstrom of social media.

I have since deleted Twitter from my smartphone and, fortunately, have hardly ever used TikTok (dodged a bullet there!). I try to get back into traditional art and get away from my computer. I am all the more grateful to the people, my community, so to speak, who do nonsense with me on tumblr. They read my comics and are extremely nice to me, which I really appreciate. Thank you!

I don't know yet if and how it will continue, but I would like to finish Berserkir in the next few years. I'd love to find a way to finish all the short comics I want to make, even though it's just me and not a whole team. Maybe I'll find a way, maybe I don't. Anyways, thanks for sticking around!

[avianreptiles]

Teehee

[rohavon]

.

[wiltkingart]

Thanks for massively triggering my dysphoria<3

you know i knew i would get a message like this eventually and my first impulse was to delete and move on, but then i thought about how i might have felt like you at some point when i was a teen and the idea of transitioning was an unattainable dream and i was hurting. for a long time i struggled with showering because i could not look at or acknowledge my physical form for any reason. so i get it.

but even if you're hurting this behavior is not okay. i post whatever art i want to post on my blog. think about this for a second: would you rather i not post my celebratory trans art? or only draw trans bodies that look indistinguishable from our cis brothers and sisters? to play into fantasies that are unattainable or unwanted by the rest of us? do you, a stranger who is free to close your eyes when you see my art or to block me entirely, feel entitled to what art i do or do not make? its not my place to censor the reality of my trans experience and the joy ive found in this body. its not your place to drag down other trans people's bodies by calling them 'massively triggering'. it will not make you happy. it will not treat your dysphoria. and it won't make cis people like you. i hope you find peace and learn that this is not the right way to find what you need for yourself. and i hope you do find what you need in order to live the life you deserve to live, and someday feel joy within your body, without the need to drag down the very people who are rooting for you. <3

[gatheringbones]

[“As computer programs determine how many patients can be profitably squeezed into a day, doctors become tools. Then the actual machines march triumphantly into the wards.

Nurses are now separated from patients by computers on wheels that roll everywhere with them: their bossy robot taskmasters. When you first see a nurse, she or he will likely have eyes on the screen rather than on you. This has dreadful consequences for your treatment, since you become a checklist rather than a person. If you are having a problem unrelated to what is on the screen, some nurses will have a hard time gathering themselves and paying attention. For example, after my first liver procedure my liver drain was improperly attached. This was a serious problem that was easily reparable. Yet although I tried for four days to draw attention to it, I could not get through. It was not on the lists. And so I had a second liver procedure.

When I read my own medical record, I was struck by how often doctors wrote what was convenient rather than what was true. It’s hard to blame them: they are locked in a terrible record-keeping system that sucks away their time and our money. When doctors enter their records, their hands are guided by the possible entries in the digital system, which are arranged to maximize revenue. The electronic medical record offers none of the research benefits that we might expect from its name; it is electronic in the same sense that a credit card reader or an ATM is electronic. It is of little help in assembling data that might be useful for doctors and patients.

During the coronavirus pandemic, doctors could not use it to communicate about symptoms and treatments. As one doctor explained, “Notes are used to bill, determine level of service, and document it rather than their intended purpose, which was to convey our observations, assessment, and plan. Our important work has been co-opted by billing.” Doctors hate all of this.

Doctors of an older generation say that things were better in their time—and, what is more worthy of note, younger doctors agree with them. Doctors feel crushed by their many masters and miss the authority that they used to enjoy, or that they anticipated that they would enjoy when they decided to go to medical school. Young people go to medical school for good reasons, then find their sense of mission exploited by their bosses. Pressured to see as many patients as possible, they come to feel like cogs in a machine. Hassled constantly by companies that seek to pry open every aspect of medical practice for profit, they find it hard to remember the nobility of their calling. Tormented by electronic records that take as much time as patient care, and tortured by mandatory cell phones that draw them away from thinking, they lose their ability to concentrate and communicate. When doctors are disempowered, we do not learn what we need to be healthy and free.”]

timothy snyder, from our malady: lessons in liberty from a hospital diary, 2020

[secretsofblackthornhall]

Emma To Bruce

Dear Bruce,

We did it! The curse is broken! Rupert is free! Long live Rupert!

In retrospect, it’s insane how much of this we tried to do by ourselves. We should have known that when we finally succeeded we would do it with a whole team present—in this case Jem, Tessa, Kit, and Magnus. (Mina assisted by raising morale and drawing all over everything with her toy stele.)

Everyone’s still here, too, and we can relax a little in a newly uncursed house. (It really is quite homey, now that it’s been cleaned up and, you know, had its demonic aura dispelled.) Everyone except Magnus, who left this afternoon in a great rush to get back to New York.

New paragraph to talk about this, actually, because I have a lot of questions that don’t have answers and I can only ask you, Bruce. So Magnus was in a hurry to get back because of a meeting Alec is holding with Luke and some other Downworlders about plans for negotiating with the Cohort. Okay, but I feel like the Cohort doesn’t have much leverage, right? The situation is way worse for them than for us. We should be able to wait them out—shouldn’t we?

I mean they have a symbolic advantage, I guess. We’re all Shadowhunters and we all miss Idris and Alicante and Lake Lyn and probably a lot of us left stuff there we can’t get back and oh right, also a lot of people lived there who have had to evacuate all over the world and want to get back. I get that. But, like…what are the Cohort even eating in there? Idris doesn’t really grow food. Are they all homesteading in there? Raising crops? Churning butter? It’s kind of hard to imagine Zara doing any of that. But you never know. I mean, there aren’t even any demons to fight in there. Which is a good reminder that Shadowhunters are definitely not meant to hole up in Idris where there’s no demons for them to fight. I feel like Raziel was pretty clear on that point.

They must be losing their minds in there. I hope they found some board games or something.

Maybe Zara has declared herself Queen for Life and she doesn’t have to farm because she just marches around threatening to kill anybody who doesn’t grow her a potato right this instant.

Or maybe we haven’t heard anything because they all ate each other in there. Or maybe they mutinied against Zara and someone else gets to threaten to kill people now.

Okay, end of pondering the Cohort. I’m in a good mood, or was before I started this entry, anyway. We’ve been hanging out with Jem and Tessa and Kit and it’s really great. We ordered in Chinese (delivery couriers are always a bit terrified to come up the driveway, but we tip them like crazy so they’ve started to know us while we’ve been here). We lit candles—for ambience instead of for dark magic, what an idea!—and ate dumplings until we were too full to move, a thing I haven’t done since Magnus and Alec’s wedding. Apparently if I am offered dumplings, I will eat them until I become a dumpling myself. To that I say: I would never reject becoming that which I love most.

Anyway. Even Kit was less broody than usual tonight! He was hanging out with Round Tom and they seemed to be getting on okay. Oh, and I almost forgot! How could I forget! The workers found a coffin buried in the garden. But there was not a horrifying dead body inside, but rather a bunch of old stuff! Using a coffin as a time capsule seemed like a weird choice to me, but Tessa and Jem made some faces and some noises that suggested there was a long-ish story there we���ll have to ask about later.

Anyway, in the coffin was A SCABBARD FOR CORTANA. I mean, right? Can you believe it? Tessa said it used to belong to Cordelia Carstairs, who was Cortana’s wielder generations ago. The scabbard needs a lot of cleaning (a lot of cleaning) but then it can be reunited with Cortana. (After all, I think it’s probably more Cortana’s possession than anyone else’s; perhaps they’ll be happy to be reunited.)

There was also a sword for Julian—what used to be a Blackthorn family sword, but this one is only a hilt, its blade is totally missing, I have no idea why. He’s talking about getting it reforged. Big shock, Round Tom knows a guy. Triangular Jerry. No, I’m kidding on the name, but Round Tom actually does know a blacksmith and he and Julian have started talking about getting that done. (Actually, what Round Tom wants to do is have a forge installed at Chiswick, which is a cool idea, but do we want another building project on top of all the others? I mean, maybe, having a forge here at the house would be pretty cool.)

Oh, you might be wondering about Rupert’s ring, since it’s not like he could take it with him, and he hasn’t come back for it in a ghost way. Magnus checked it out and said no magic any more, just an ordinary ring Tatiana must have enchanted to bind Rupert. But none of us is going to wear it, of course. So we put it on the mantelpiece in the drawing room. Where it will remain.

The Gray-Carstairs-Herondaleses are heading back to Cirenworth tomorrow. It’s been really great having them here, but you know, it will be nice to have them go and have it be just Julian and I here in the house, not feeling creepy all the time. That seems like good times for us.

#

Bruce, good times are canceled. Everything’s gone wrong. I guess I was a little too smug about how everything was going; the universe had to come and screw it up for me.

Mina is gone.

And by gone I mean kidnapped.

And by kidnapped I mean, the kidnapper left a creepy old-timey porcelain doll (with wide, dead eyes, ugh) in her place, and a note.

I had just finished writing the above stuff when I heard a horrible scream from upstairs and loud footsteps, and came out to find everyone gathered in Mina’s room staring in horror.

I immediately thought oh no, another curse, or the same curse, the curse isn’t over, and maybe you did too, but that’s not what this is. This is something else entirely. Something involving faeries. Something involving Faerie.

Tessa picked up the note, read it, and handed it to Jem with a bad look on her face. Julian was already opening the window to see if anyone could be spotted outside, and I read over Jem’s shoulder:

[vickdrake]

Do i know you?

Jake opened his eyes finding the annoying glow of his computer, with those codes that had been left undeciphered after he inexplicably fell asleep on the table.

He didn't remember the exact moment when he had fallen into the world of dreams, but he knew that it was due to an oversight that should not happen again. Tiredness took its toll on him after months without sleeping properly, or rather without sleeping at all.

He cracked his neck, letting out a grunt of relief before looking out the hotel room window. It was autumn, the leaves were falling withered from the trees, indicating that winter was approaching and that everything old had to disappear to make way for a new beginning.

His pursuers seemed to be getting closer, always straining his patience and making him change hiding places more often. When he woke up his first concern had been to check where they were, but he was surprised to see that they had not yet picked up his signal, that they were still quite far away from him.

“Strange” he thought.

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and staring into the corner of the room as he remembered a dream even stranger than the fact that his pursuers had not already knocked on the door (although they would never really knock, they would broke it).

Have you heard of people who don't dream? Jake was one of them. Dreams were not recurring in his life since he was little.

And I'll tell you something else, as a child, Jake feared his dreams because they were always too real.

This time it turned out to be a dream within a dream.

There he had also been sleeping as if he had no worries in the world other than rest, but the difference was that this time he was not alone.

A girl who radiated as much light as beauty caressed his hair as he opened his eyes.

—Good morning, sleepyhead. I've never seen you sleep as much as you did today —she said, smiling with amusement and tenderness as she tangled her fingers in the locks that covered Jake's eyes—. Do you want to tell me what you were dreaming? I almost thought you weren't going to wake up.

He himself had thought that it would be weird to find a strange woman at his side, speaking to him as if they had known each other for a long time, but his body, his mind, had reacted in a different way, ending up putting his arm around her waist and approaching to kiss her.

"Wait, wait, i haven't brushed my teeth yet," the woman protested, laughing as he left kisses on her neck and cheeks as he sought her lips.

"I don't care," Jake heard himself say at the same time he managed to make her stay still so he could kiss her hungrily.

She had complained that it was disgusting, but he didn't care at all.

In his dreams he had a life with her, they were both happy and Jake remembered laughing like he hadn't heard himself in years.

Through the tricks his head played on him, he managed to feel the human warmth of someone else for a period of time that felt like decades. It seemed to him that it was someone else's life, someone completely oblivious to him but at the same time had everything to do with himself.

He remembered her delicate fingers on his face, drawing paths across his chest, playfully running over his neck and tracing the shape of his eyebrows in a reassuring way.

He discovered that an engagement ring was on her ring finger and a feeling of pride, joy and overflowing love invaded him as soon as he saw that image. His girlfriend, his girl, his fiancee. Or rather, the fiancee of that Jake who did have a happy and free life.

His own mind playing with him, reminding him that he would never have a life like that, that he would rather end up rotting in prison or dead, buried and forgotten.

After a while he forgot the dream.

He completely forgot about the girl's face, the scent of her hair, and her smile that became Jake's favorite thing for at least five minutes after he woke up.

He continued to run away because it was what he knew how to do best, the only thing he could do, and he didn't allow himself to go back to sleep.

But... One afternoon, almost a year later.

A fragrance invaded his nostrils when the door of the Rainbow coffee opened.

An essence of roses, jasmine and… sea salt.

It seemed like a strange mix, although it made sense as he began to remember every detail of his dreams.

The rose petals that she put in her books so that they would be dissected, the jasmines that she loved so much and that Jake left next to her pillow every time he had to run away again, and the sea salt from that beach where he decided that he wanted to spend the rest of his life being by her side, that place where as soon as he saw her come out of the water with her clothes and hair wet, laughing and throwing water at him, he was so hypnotized that the words came out of his mouth on their own.

"Marry me".

It had been a while since the iron mine had caught fire with Richy Rogers and Jake inside, Hannah was slowly recovering after they had managed to rescue her and the rest of her friends were trying to be strong for her but at the same time they couldn't ignore the pain of Richy's death.

The woman, who had helped the group and the hacker, decided to distance herself although she did not lose contact with any of them. She didn't go where she wasn't called, she comforted those who came to her and one day she finally decided it was time to say goodbye.

Jake watched from a table as she entered the cafeteria. Everything about her seemed so incredibly familiar even though he had never seen her in his life and also he could feel deep inside that he knew every mole, scar and mark from her body.

He didn't care about looking crazy as he looked at her, he had no interest in being careful as he found himself immersed in the lost expression on her face as she looked out the window, in how she drummed her fingers on the table and then how she took the cup of coffee to her lips.

He wanted to touch her, call her, say all those words that he had only spoken to her by message, discover if her hair was really as soft as in that dream, if her hands really radiated that comforting warmth.

Then he noticed that she was no longer looking at the cup of coffee or at the people passing by on the street but directly at him.

His heart began to accelerate and he felt the beat reach his ears, also causing his breathing to become agitated.

"I know you"

His legs moved on their own, making him get up to go after her as soon as he saw her grab her things and go to the cashier to pay. He didn't approach, not wanting to draw too much attention from her, but it was inevitable for the woman to get scared when she found him a few meters away from herself. Of course she must have guessed it was him at some point.

Jake heads toward the door to open it, but he turns his head in her direction just to let her know that he's waiting for her. He sees her doubt, observe him, analyze him, and he understands that she is wondering if she is wrong about who he is. She begins to approach, without taking her eyes off him, she watches him carefully, patiently, and Jake has to control the impulse to put his arms around her waist and press her against his body as soon as they face each other.

Nobody says anything. They communicate through looks. Jake thinks about what he wants to tell her and it seems to work, she seems to understand, because her frown softens.

“I love you,” a corner of his mind whispers and he smiles slightly.

No one else in the cafeteria is important, she overshadows anyone else and makes him forget that they've been looking at each other for a while, what wakes him up is her voice uttering a soft “thank you” before she walks through the door and leaves.

Jake watches her walk away, but he knows that she expects him to follow her so he doesn't waste time and with a more noticeable smile, he closes the door of the cafeteria and while he puts his hands in his pockets he decides that from the beginning she was always his destiny.

PS: This story is slightly linked to “With or without you”.

Just in case you want to continue reading and you haven't seen the other side of the story yet -> With or without you

[heartfullofleeches]

Oohhh I love the night gallery crew!! <3

Okay so- how would the art gallery harem react to the news that their precious night guard used to pose as a nude art model for one if their previous jobs? Bonus points if they end up digging around and finding old drawings/portfolio pics of them posted online lol

The Painter

Their muse - a model in the past? A nude one at that? They can't say they aren't jealous others have bared witness to their beauty, but they won't be so upset about it if their dearest is willing to come out of retirement and maybe send their older photos up to their study. They promise not to stare too much, but they pray their muse doesn't mind if their eyes linger. It's rare for them to be in the presence of such raw perfection. They are more of a hands on type of painter so their muse wouldn't mind a few touches, no? As they would say, it’s all just apart of the process.

Rosebud

Of course they are interested, but they won't press the matter unless Reader offers to share.... Please ignore the excitement of their roses - though they do reflect Rosebud's inner feelings they assure Reader it's just past their feeding time. Clearly more flustered than they let on. Refuses to look at the images because they would only make them more tempted to leave bites all over Reader to claim them as their own as they are when they see the Guard's exposed neck or wrists or pretty much any uncovered inch of skin.

The Scavenger

Hope staff gives the printer in the breakroom a nice funeral because if Scavenger gets its hands on those portfolio shots it's the end of the line for that poor machine. Anything relating to their precious treasure is the pinnacle of their collection. They must have more - even if it's the same picture a thousand times it's still not enough. If anyone comes across one of their copies it's best theu leave them their because even if they're trying to return them Scavenger will accuse them of stealing. There's not doubt I my mind they've eaten a copy or two because they're weird like that.

The Faceless Angel

Conflicted. On one hand they are interested in seeing their guard in all forms, but on the other it feels like an invasion of privacy. Unlike some, their intrigue comes from an artistic viewpoint rather than sexual. They'd give anything for the opportunity to touch Reader's warm flesh without clothing in the way. It feels like heaven on their stone skin.

The Lady in Red

It's the less images she's interested in and more the people who have seen them. Swiftly cuts down anyone who views Reader's pictures while in the gallery be they human or fellow exhibit. She can't do anything about the past, but does everything in the present to keep too many eyes off her love. Takes the photos Scavenger loses and while she keeps a few on hand - she burns the rest.

Julian

Slimy fuck is probably the first to come across them being the noisy little stalker he is. As an artist in his free time, he does use them for reference, but it's much more fun to use them for other things. Like teasing Reader about their past or taping copies to the breakroom fidge. He only does it when he knows they're the only two on shift because he'll have to hurt anyone who sees them nakee besides him. Like Lady, he's more likely to attack paintings who have gotten a hold of the scavengers copies.

Anri

Their favorite coworker was once a model? How fun! They aren't the best artist, but they can draw Reader too. A little bashful about seeing them naked so they stick to just about the shoulders. They want to at least waiting until their ten date with Reader before seeing them in such a state. Covers their eyes and runs off whenever someone tries to show them. Julian only allows Anri to see the photos because it's fun to chase them through the halls with them or point out various aspects of their features to make Anri flustered

The Director

Dislikes imagine of Reader because while they can be used to create copies of them, The Director wants the real thing. Still has one of Scavenger's photos tucked in his coat pocket.

[factual-fantasy]

24 asksss :}}} ⭐⭐⭐

@ardent-38

You are my favorite person

@wolfie-777

Cassie does not exist in my AU. But hypothetically-

If Roxanne found this lost child she would report it to Vanessa and have her help Cassie. As is the protocol for children that are found on the premises after hours.

If Roxy found her while she had the "bug" in her system? She would have attacked and maybe even killed Cassie :x

Had to google what that was, <XD It looks beautiful! And I image that he has seen it before yeah :)

As for their favorite songs, I'm not sure :0

That's.. actually a really good idea.

For a long time I never went back to the comic because the writing I did was awful. Everyone was acting out of character, it was SUPER dramatic. I wrote Peso's character all wrong. Uhg, awful awful awful.

And then I was kept away from going back because people would not stop asking me to finish it. "Why did you abandon this comic?" "Are you gonna finish it?" "Why did you stop drawing it" "Go back and finish the crab comic" Like, it was so frustrating.

...Buuuuutt,, rewriting it? Hmmm... I'm way too wrapped up with projects to start this anytime soon. But I wont lie this ask really got me thinking about it-

Also thank you so much! I'm glad you like my art!! :DDD

@smilegirl64 (Post in question)

Thank you! I'm so glad you noticed! That was my favorite detail to add XDDDD

@elegysonnet

I dug into the series a bit and took a look around the fanbase. And I decided that it just wasn't really my thing.

Although I did love the character designs and I think they'd be really fun to draw, I didn't think I'd get along with the fandom. I can see myself huddled in my own little corner with all my headcannons and stuff, and I wouldn't really want to interact with anyone else. :/

Also my favorite character is probably Julie or Howdy XDD

I use an XPPen Artist 13.3 Pro. Its a tablet with a screen! :))

As for my drawing program I use FireAlpaca. Its free and really good for beginners and pros! Highly recommend if you're just getting into digital art. Also thank you!! :D

@baokim80

@burningmusicfunnygiant

I disagree actually. The "bug" aside, they are in no way programed to hurt anyone. They are programmed to have full obedience to staff and Managers.

They could try to stop them, and they could physically stand in their way. But you wouldn't see Freddy straight up punching an employee to keep him away from Bonnie.

Now with the bug in their systems? mmm.. Okay yeah they would. BUT ONLY WHEN THEY'RE NOT IN THEIR RIGHT MINDS-

@cudlycorncornsworthcoberson

XDD Offended Bibi noises can be heard in the background

@curiousskelekitty

<XD I'll do my best!

I feel that my responsibility as an artist on this platform is to tag my art appropriately. Tag it for blood, gore, injuries, things like that. So that people who are disturbed by those subjects don't have to stumble upon it and have their day ruined. :(

What is NOT my responsibly is to prevent little kids from seeing my bloody Octonauts artwork. That's the parents job. XD THEY should be keeping an eye on their kids and making sure they're not browsing sites like Tumblr XDD

Tangle and Lolbit are not a part of my AU actually.

But Mangle? Just because she hasn't made an appearance of any kind yet, doesn't mean she wont in the future.. 👀

Thank you! :DD

Thank you! I'll try to not rush through my projects so much <XD

Thank you for respecting that! :D

Also uhg. I hate pinterest. I would rather people just never found out about me then find me through a pinterest post with my stolen artwork.

@whereismycupofcoffee

YEESSS!!! I always love it when people decide to give Octonauts a try :))) Its a really neat show!

THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDDD

XD My first thought was Peso or Shellington for some reason. They're just too polite to make a fuss XDDD

@kymbird

Wanna know a good place to start if you genuinely struggle with that? Make 1 character that is based off of you. And then make a second character that is based off of someone in your life that you have 0 romantic interest in what so ever. Like your Mom, or your Dad, siblings, Uncle, dog literally anyone. It should be impossible to twist those 2 characters together because they are modeled after you and ur mom. You should look at them and say "thats me and my mom" or "thats me and my brother" Those 2 should then be characters that are 100% protected from becoming a ship. :0

This actually reminded me of my transformer ocs. I modeled the characters after the drivers/owners. And people wanted to ship them together and I was like "for 1 they are my OCs so thats kind'a odd but 2 those two characters are based off of siblings. They absolutely should not- in ANY universe, be paired together"

Personally not a huge fan of the bright blue color he has. Seeing his Bonnie Bowl artwork everywhere I expected him to be his usual purple..

As for my Bonnie I think he'd get along pretty well with his Glamrock counterpart! But when it comes to the Bowling ally they'd be rivals. >:)

Also thank you! :DD

@trains-of-thought

aaaa thank you so much!! :DD I'm so glad to hear that you've liked my Mario artwork!! And that you read the info aaaa!! I spent a lot of time writing all that so I'm glad to hear that you read it! As for your questions,

1: Yes! My Peach, Daisy, Wario and Waluigi are all the same species, which is not human. They are this incredibly tall elf like species that closely resembles humans and has many biological similarities.. but ultimately they are very different species.

2: Its hard to say.. I've been known to change my mind a lot so maybe? Honestly I hope that someday these feelings towards fanart will vanish and I will be able to engage with my fans more. But for now,, noooo fanworks :(

OH MY GOSH I LOVE THAT FNAF VIDEO XDD Very well animated and funny! Here's the link in case anyone is interested!

I drew it myself! :)

[dapper-lil-arts]

So uh. My freelance work here is kind of dying.

I thought i'd keep my long-term followers on the know-how, so i might as well write about my current circumstances here, give y'all an update, so to speak.

So, for several reasons, most of them not even my fault, i've been getting less and less commissions, almost none, actually, and the ones i get are usualy on the cheaper side, which is bad concidering that this is my livelihood, commission money pays my bills, my groceries, and my taxes, and now i sure as hell am strugling to imagine this will sustain me for long. Twitter is a sinking ship ever since elon went over, Specificaly for people like me. I had just broken into 12k followers there, a huge milestone for me, and then i got shadowbanned, and for the last few months i've gotten *nothing*. It's completely dead, i'm stagnated there, all my arts are censored, and there's no way for me to undo it or fix it, and so i've gotten less and less comms out there, which sucks because its the only reason i was even on that stupid site. Here on tumblr, meanwhile, the CEO went on a massive transphobic streak, and a lot of lgbt folk (which composed a lot of my following,) decided to jump ship, and i sure as hell dont blame them, but sadly that's more potential costumers that bailed, and there's no proper website to go to. Anywhere i'd go, i'd be starting from scratch again, which would be utterly disheartening and frustrating, and there no website that is kind to artists, with no algorythim, that also have a messaging system (the latter being ESSENTIAL to the way i do comms) So i'm kind of stuck. I just. have nowhere to go, and nothing to do. And last but not least, my own fault, I've just been drawing and creating what *I* specificaly want, on an hedonistic streak this year. That's why theres so much pony bs on this blog now, and why i was straight up posting poetry a while back, and have written hundreds upon hundreds of fanfiction pages in the last few months; Which, unfortunately, is a terrible business decision if your intent is making money. Which I surely should have prioritized, but in the end, its not up to me, its up to the costumers... So now i'm a bit stuck. I've enjoyed the things ive drawn and written more than anything i've ever done, and yet, i've never been less successful on the actual business side. I'm still considering my venues, my possibilities, but there's not many. Trying to get a job would certainly pull me away from creation, and i'd hate it regardless of what it was, and on another venue, theres no guarantee that going back to furry titties would bring me money.

and that's whats heartbreaking about it too. no matter how much effort i put on my work, theres no guarantee of sucess, so why even spend time trying to craft a masterpiece? why not just follow trends and make a tiktok account or whatever the fuck makes money these days. I'd rather not, frankly. And i wont. Well, that's about it. Thanks for reading this update, that's how my life is goin atm. i'm going to continue doing as i am right now, but yknow... I'm not sure what i should do, if you want to give me suggestions, feel free.

[sky-kiss]

Okay sorry for all these prompts/ideas but I just can't get rid of these worms and would love to hear your takes on them! How would you imagine a scenario where Raphael is wounded and decided "I'm going to teleport to my favourite person instead of going back to the Hells" (maybe he was wounded in the Hells and escaped). He manages to teleport to them/their doorstep before passing out. What would ensue? 👀👀👀

p.s. I only though of this because I was thinking of Raphael without his doublet so you see that shirt and then imagined him being all bloodied and beat up 😩 Welp... Adding that to the back burner of things to draw!

A/N: Ya’ll feeling a lil’ bloodthirsty against the boy tonight. What has he done to deserve such violence? You know. Aside from everything. I’ve opted for a touch of silliness. 

_________

The House of Hope is compromised. 

It’s Raphael’s last cognizant thought for some time. The assassin closes the distance between them with hellish speed, a blur of wings and bladed limbs. He’s vaguely aware of the pain, but it’s the burning he feels first. It’s like acid in his veins. Poison, he thinks, and that airy disconnect startles him; it’s poisoned me. 

Raphael rips the beast off him, snapping its neck in one fluid move. Screams echo throughout the House. He hears more of those things scurrying about in the main hall and something massive, something awful, crashing towards the boudoir. 

They’ve come for him. His father’s men or a rival Archdevil, it matters not. He moves towards his armoire, intending to slip into the Hell Dusk armor before they are upon him, and nearly collapses. His vision swims; the muscles in his hands and calves are still in the process of cramping. Everything wants to spasm. 

The cambion grits his teeth, pride warring with rationality. If they kill him here, it will be a final death. But on the Prime…even if they fell upon him, there is hope. Raphael forces his hands through the familiar gesture and casts himself among the planes. He has no destination in mind; his mind cycles through its expansive catalog of people and places and locates one with sufficient strength. The House fades. 

Convenient, because so does his consciousness. 

________

There’s a devil in her garden. 

Well. Cambion.

Tav purses her lips, rocking back on her heels. She should probably feel panicky but can’t find it in herself. Raphael looks rough. His doublet is shredded. His red skin is tinged nearly purple, and sweat beads on his forehead. The hero of Baldur’s Gate glances back towards her cottage, down at the devil she’d once (tenuously) considered a friendly acquaintance. 

If he’d thought to come to her after a decade, then things must have gone sideways back home. 

She sighs, kneeling and slipping her arms under his. The devil is hot. Not in an attractive way, not even in a natural temperature way; it’s like his blood is boiling in his veins and cooking him from the inside out. She goes to move him and groans. 

“Gods, couldn’t even transform to make this a little more manageable, hmm? Good to see you’ve not changed, dear.” 

Getting him inside is an arduous process. Tav has to stop more than once. He’s heavier than he looks, and touching him burns her. 

She finally, finally manages to drag him to the couch. Tav presses the back of her hand to his cheek. She’s no expert in Infernal medicine, but he doesn’t feel or look great. Chewing her lip, she weighs her options. Leave him and hope he awakens…

…or take matters into her own hands. 

She’s always been more of a take-charge sort. Tav fetches a knife from the kitchen. He isn’t going to be happy with her, but he’ll also be alive, so it’s a tradeoff he’ll have to accept. She finishes cutting the doublet free. Seeing him without it is strange. Tav sits back on her heels. He looks smaller, so much more vulnerable without that mark of rank. The shirt beneath is rather plain by comparison. Frilled, yes, but nothing out of the ordinary. Tav cuts it away; the blood has ruined it. They’ll find something else for him to wear. 

The wound stretches across his side. It oozes in some places; the skin along the edges is blackened, already starting to rot. She wonders if his mortal blood worsened or lessened the effect of the poison. 

Tav fetches half a dozen potions from the pantry alongside a roll of bandages. She’ll have to work quickly and pray. 

_________

Raphael regains consciousness halfway through the procedure. The cambion is aware of a pinching sensation in his side; there’s a small hand on his ribs, trying to keep him from moving away. His host pinches him. They’re saying something. 

“Transform.” 

Gods above and below, he recognizes that voice. The devil groans, chancing to open his eyes. Tav is staring at him, crouched between his spread leads, needle in hand. 

“Not you.” 

She snickers. “Me, darling. Don’t complain. You manifested in my garden.” 

“Anything ruined?” 

“An entire bed of night lilies.”

He huffs. “I’m glad to hear it. I should visit far more destruction upon this wretched…” the room does a dizzying turn and his nausea intensifies. 

“You can visit your destruction later. Right now, I need you to transform. Your skin is a bit…” she shrugs. “More difficult to manage as a devil. You need sutures.” He snaps his fingers. The shift is not as immediate as he’d like, and he has to screw his eyes shut against the latent exhaustion. Tav’s hand shifts, moving up to cup the back of his neck. “Easy, love. You’re alright. Could you stomach a healing drought?”

He nods. Tav presses the potion into his hand and returns to her work, leaning over him. There’s a part of him, separate from the pain and sickness, which catalogs the healthier warmth of her skin and the press of her against his thigh. Her scent is precisely as he remembered. Her hair…

Raphael frowns, reaching out to tweak one shorn strand. “You cut your hair.”

She smiles, stitching him back together with practiced ease. “Do you like it?” 

“Not in the least.” 

Tav laughs. It’s a far cry from the last time they were together. When the wretched thing had the gall to deny him; when she’d cut ties entirely and ended their mutually beneficial relationship. She’s so close. He could snuff out her miserable life and finally make good on…

“There.” She pats his stomach, pressing back on her heels. She doesn’t move away, he notes; her elbows remain on either of his thighs. She is such a little thing, his pretty mouse, even with her horrible new hair and a smattering of fresh wrinkles. She tips her head to the side. “You’ll have to rest a while. But you’ll live.” 

“The House is compromised.” 

Tav finally stands. She smooths his hair back, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Stay here then. We’ll make it work.” 

[tubbytarchia]

Just a bunch of Doc and Jimmy thoughts as to why I find them so appealing and endearing. I wanna draw them more but regardless I have too many thoughts on them to ever visualize them all. It's a lot and very self-indulgent. This is your warning

TLDR Jimmy in a father/son type of dynamic (as opposed to a romantic relationship) would do him good and Doc would be very perceptive and gentle and awesome about it

These are pretty much all reliant on a hypothetical scenario in which Jimmy is on Hermitcraft (after Secret Life?), temporarily or permanently or accidentally etc. I'm also gonna refer to Jimmy's relationships with Tango, Scott etc as romantic just for clarity

- Firstly I don't mind them as a ship, its all cool with me (cause I know at least a few of you ship them haha), but to me their absolute main appeal is the fatherly aspect. It being a father/son dynamic eliminates so many of Jimmy's struggles off the bat - ones that are prevalent in his romantic connections, mainly the inherent anxiety and inability to open up to his partners as a result (at least fully)

- Because of said anxiety, none of Jimmy's partners up to this hypothetical unexplained point of time would fully "get" him. Even if Jimmy trusts them, he's been conditioned to see himself as the faulty link by default and the people around him, however good they are and however much they COULD help, aren't the type to pick up on or be able to understand exactly what he needs (Tango's rather oblivious, Martyn's hot-headed etc), and Jimmy isn't exactly going to tell them in the headspace that he's in, he doesn't know how to. Yet Doc has had one, ONE notable interaction with him, and in that one interaction, even as Jimmy's just jokingly calling for Etho, Doc immediately and immaculately picks up on what Jimmy needs: "I want to take you into my hands and take you to a safe place"

- There's a quote(?) exchange that goes "You're free, (referring to a bird whose gate has just been opened), why don't you fly away?" followed by the bird "the cage is all I know". Sorry to use some "I'm 14 and this is deep" quote but that's just Jimmy. He needs time and gentleness, and a safe place that'd allow for that. A safe place to heal until he's ready to step out into the world of his own accord. He's helped out of the cage with patience and understanding, not by pushing him. Where Doc understands to be patient, some of Jimmy's partners post-3L would push - of course just trying to help but failing to grasp Jimmy's needs fully - or fail to realize there's (still) a cage there at all. Sorry what are we talking about again

- Add-on to the above points: Doc being able to pick up on Jimmy's wants and needs without verbalization. He'd be able to offer Jimmy desired comfort, and, comparing to Tango for example, without their time necessarily being cut short and without the failure to recognise that it's something Jimmy continues to need. (I've said it before but Tango's oblivious, and that's partially why he and Jimmy work well together, but it also means that he doesn't pick up on everything, especially when not near and soulbound to Jimmy, and by virtue of being a romantic partner, Jimmy's too anxious to ask for help too, because of previous relationship experiences). Doc would pick up on it all though, eliminating Jimmy's need to explicitly ask for help, because that's the one thing he's not able to communicate however desperately he's needed to to kickstart any kind of healing

- We all know how Doc gets when he's being a dad so. This father/son dynamic only means more softness and gentleness from Doc you know... Again, something Jimmy is in desperate need for!! And what he's gotten from people like Tango as well, but once again, this isn't a romantic relationship so Jimmy's feelings about physical affection are a bit different. Doc would have the utmost mindfulness of approaching Jimmy in any physical touch scenario though and never push or pressure. He always watches out for signs of discomfort, and will hardly touch him if he thinks that there's a chance it could upset Jimmy further. He understands that Jimmy needs time and patience and he doesn't want for him to draw more into himself, thus reversing any progress they might've made, especially if in Jimmy's current mindset, an even remotely unwanted approach could make him feel unsafe. If there are defenses that he's learned to and needs to keep up, then Doc won't take that away from him and give him space as needed

- When Doc IS to offer physical touch and such, he'd still have the utmost gentleness and pay attention to where he's situated near Jimmy just so he can ensure that he's using his organic arm to pat him or to have the organic half of his face towards him, not only to minimize intimidation but to also put them on more equal footing - If Doc can just look over and read Jimmy's eyes at any moment, he wants Jimmy to be able to see his too to help him feel more comfortable (and thus encourage opening up)

- Back to the "safe place" thing specifically, Doc would totally take Jimmy under his wing and thus also into his base - his huge and scary full-of-machines barely-resembling-a-house-to-any-degree base. Jimmy would be naturally intimidated by Doc and his base in kind, but just as he grows more used to big scary goat man, he grows more used to big scary goat man base. He'd be intimidated but not past the point of intrigue, and combined with his need to prove himself, Jimmy would very much try to study Doc's machines and learn the layout of his base etc. I'm tickled by the idea of no one understanding Doc's base as per usual, except this one lost guy he took under his wing

If Jimmy were to mess anything up (he inevitably would I'm sure) Doc would be all grumbly about it in the moment but never hold a grudge towards him. And Jimmy would either flee but quickly return and/or be very insistent on making it up to Doc, which Doc would refuse because there's no need

- Again, with Jimmy's need to prove himself but also out of genuine interest, Jimmy would very much try redstone whilst at Doc's. He'd ask Doc to be honest and not to praise his work just to be polite, but Doc would believe in him and find his efforts genuinely endearing and worthy of praise for the work that he'd have put into it. Not once would he have complimented Jimmy's work without meaning it. I don't think he'd be able to live with himself if he stooped to disingenuousness like that (though Jimmy wouldn't know that)

- Doc would be protective and rightfully so. If he were to see Jimmy bullying becoming too prevalent, he'd very much step in to say that that's enough of that. He might tease Jimmy a little himself, very lightheartedly, but otherwise not find much comedy in it. And we all know how he holds grudges if he's to single anyone out for going over the line... Jimmy would be opposed to Doc calling anyone out or anything of the like and Doc very much wants to respect Jimmy's wishes but... There's no way he isn't going to speak his mind at least out of Jimmy's earshot

- Doc has always understood that Jimmy's in need of help, but of course he can only entail so much without hearing it from the man himself. And when Jimmy does inevitably open up, Doc would be totally taken aback by the amount of things weighing on Jimmy's heart, and just out of disbelief he'd go "and you haven't told anyone??", which may make Jimmy curl in on himself a bit, but Doc would be quick to reassure that he's not questioning Jimmy's actions nor blaming him for bottling his feelings up, merely expressing sadness that Jimmy hasn't felt like he could tell anyone up until now. Doc would remember everything he's told with precision and keep it all in mind constantly. Very self indulgent but for example, Jimmy having felt the need to dress up as a maid as payback just to stay on SOS would make Doc pay even more attention to any potential signs of discomfort in Jimmy presenting himself to others or feeling pressured to do something etc

- Before reaching the point of being able to open up, Jimmy would inevitably tear up at some point when he gets stuck thinking about just how kindly he's being treated for whatever reason that remains a mystery to him. Even if he tried to hide it, Doc would immediately notice the unusual body language, or something like his headwing moving to cover his face. And he would become very panicked lol, quickly reassuring Jimmy about whatever he thinks caused the reaction, like his redstone attempts for example, only for Jimmy to be unable to express why he's really crying, but at the very least Doc would understand that there's more to it and will just do his best to comfort him regardless

- Jimmy has and will absolutely call people his dad as a joke, but when he inevitably refers to Doc as such by accident, he'd become embarrassed about it. It'd be awesome and cute I think

- Ok so Hermitcraft, of course Tango's there!! And with no death game looming over his or Jimmy's heads. Still, that doesn't erase Jimmy's anxiety even when he opens up to Doc about it. Doc would offer suggestions for how Jimmy could approach Tango (And maybe Pearl too), but if Jimmy expresses his inability to do so because of anxiety and such, then Doc will let it go and just comfort or reassure him for the time being instead. He'd ask if he should talk to Tango all menacing and Jimmy would be vehemently opposed to the idea lol. Doc would probably still take it up with Tango at some point and Jimmy wouldn't find out until much later into him and Tango talking again, at which point he'd become embarrassed that Tango had to deal with that (but of course there would have never been any malice involved and Tango can easily laugh about it). Added drama if we go with the idea that Jimmy's time on HC is limited which would only stress him out more about talking to Tango

- Doc would pay so much attention to Jimmy's wings' welfare. He'd ask Grian and do all kinds of research on his own too to make sure they're properly cared for whilst fully understanding their personal importance and potential intimacy that caring for them entails, giving Jimmy whatever space he needs whilst still keeping an eye on his wings. In a different hypothetical scenario where Doc is in the Life series and not much else is changed, he'd take note of Jimmy's wings being clipped (3L, LL), then growing (DL, LimL), and then becoming ragged (SL, with Jimmy's increasing hostility, restlessness etc)

- You are insane for reading till this point. Take my hand, we can be insane together

[ominous-auburn-orbs]

Gay people real?!?

Can i get a burger extra cheese

Or if you dont have that

A kingleader fic about Caine just,,, wearing kingers robe (assuming he has more than one) and kinger catching him red-handed ——> fluff ensues

I have shart block so i’ll prolly draw it too (if it’s okay wit u tho)

Thamk you 🫶

I do not have a burger, no, but I do have some gays.

Anyone making art about anything I write ever makes me the world's happiest guy so if you wanna draw it then fuck yeah draw it

Caine quietly opened the door to Kinger's room. He knew the chess piece was in his smaller, separate fortress near the stage, so he decided to use this opportunity to his advantage.

Moving further in, Caine scanned the room for anything resembling a closet, but found only the large pillow fort that took up near the entire room. Maybe it was in there, along with likely everything Kinger owned. He really could've just had a room made of pillows in the first place, all he had to do was ask...

Pushing some of the pillows aside, Caine went inside and found a lot more than what he expected to. The place was larger than what it had looked like and had an abundance of furniture and decorations. It was rather nice. He couldn't help but run his hands along most of it, lingering on the bed specifically for probably longer than what would be considered normal.

Remembering why he was there to begin with, he floated over to the closet and pulled open the doors. Inside were about five identical purple robes. Perfect.

It was at this point where he hesitated. Would this be wrong? He was in a relationship with Kinger at this point, and he wasn't doing anything inherently weird. He just wanted to try on one of the robes, then he'd put it right back.

He pulled one of the robes off of its hanger. Caine examined it as he held it in his hands. It was soft. He opened the robe and placed it on his shoulders, feeling himself being weighed down by it. From where he was floating, the bottom of it brushed against the floor.

As he pulled it closer to himself, he felt a pleasant warmth rise in his face. The robe felt comforting and nice. It felt like Kinger. So absorbed was Caine in the robe's feel and the thoughts of Kinger it provoked, he didn't hear the door creak open further nor the shuffling of pillows being moved aside.

"Caine, what are you doing?" The ringmaster startled, both of them yelling in surprise. His blush worsened exponentially. He had forgotten to close the door, and now he had to face the consequences.

"W-well, uh, you see, I've always wanted to- to try on one of your robes. They've always looked-" His eyes wandered along the robe Kinger wore now, "felt, so soft."

"Couldn't you have just spawned one in instead of trying to sneak in here?"

"I suppose, but..." He faltered, attempting to find the words that would make his feelings make sense. "It just isn't the same! That would just be another robe, these are your robes, y-you wore them, they, um, smell like... you."

"...Caine, you don't have a nose." Kinger was touched by the sentiment regardless, despite how little sense it made.

"I know I don't, let me be romantic!" The chess piece chuckled, putting a hand on Caine's face which he immediately leaned into.

"Alright, then. You know you really could've just asked for one of my robes, I would've given it to you. You look cute in it anyway." Kinger caressed the ringmaster's gums, his voice lowering somewhat. "I like seeing you in my clothes."

He felt Caine's face start to burn up against his palm along with hearing a quiet dial-up sound. "A-ah- I didn't know you'd- uh-"

Kinger pressed his face to Caine's teeth and smiled. "You don't need to be so sneaky with this. Feel free to steal from me whenever you want."

Caine took his word for it, which resulted in multiple morning greetings starting with the ringmaster being weighed further down to the ground by a large purple robe. Jax would snicker and nudge Kinger, but the chess piece would never be listening, his eyes trained solely on the main thing that made his digital life worth living.

[kirimoochi]

past life.

₊˚ ᗢ kazuha x gn! reader.

⤷ i met you once before, in my previous life.

He was a peasant, and you were a noble. 

Working in the fields, he brushes the back of his hand against his sweating forehead. A few dribbled down his neck and past his short ponytail. His crops were beginning to struggle this year due to the harsh conditions. Winds and thunder were ever the more prominent as the Shogun continued her long reign. He was starting to find his life rather difficult to live through. If he wasn’t fighting against the overbearing heat, he would be fighting his growling stomach.

His younger brother was too small to help in the fields, his mother had fallen ill, and his father was in town, trying to find him a suitor. He was at the age at which he needed to get married to secure a financially stable future. However, it wasn’t easy. It was rather difficult for the past couple of days for his father, who has yet to come to terms with the fact that no one would want to marry a poor farmer. 

He sighs under his breath, continuing to plow the soaked fields. He doesn’t want to get married to just anyone. He dreamt that they would be like a free bird, someone who would like to explore the rest of Inazuma with him. Enter the courtyards, clap their hands, wish for a good harvest during New Year, and eat freshly prepared salted fish at a restaurant. 

He hardly had any time to himself. Very little time to go into town and leisure around. Nevertheless, he found at least a small minute to admire the way the sun would set behind mountain tops. Had he been given a blessing by his Archon, he might have been able to settle in a new house with a perfect view of its orange rays. It would have been a nice thought to have come to life. 

Bells and chimes rang as a carriage was pulled across the open roads. Kazuha squints his eyes as he raises his hand, shielding himself from the burning heat. It wasn’t common for small nobles to stop by his farm. It had always been slightly secluded enough for them to unravel and admire the open plains. 

He presses his lips together as he begins to worry. Just as it wasn’t unordinary for nobles to stop by, they oftentimes stared at him like an animal on display, for the wealthy never bat an eye to those lesser. He tilts his head downwards in shame, trying to draw his eyes away from the door opening. 

You step down with your servant, pulling out a parasol as you stared off into the distant skies. Men surrounded your carriage to take care of the horses, feeding them and patting them down. You couldn’t help but feel a little exhausted despite riding in a cart. Noise surrounded you like buzzing flies. People crowded around you with proposals. You only wish to swat them away. 

Ignoring your servant's calls, you walk along the fields, feeling the tall grass brush against the fabric of your clothes. You want to get away from all this unnecessary noise. The noise kept following you as if you were a rotten piece of meat. One that seemed oh-so desirable to the wealthy. You curse yourself for the misfortune you had. Being born into a wealthy family only meant that the voices would never leave and that you will always feel a warm breath against the back of your neck.

Clutching your parasol tightly you hold back small beads of tears at the corners of your eyes. Wiping them away with the back of your finger, you gaze at the lone farmer at the center of the field. His blond hair was tied back, his eyes too focused on weeding out the small, uneven patches which had infected his farm. You felt strange watching him. Was it wrong of you to say you felt at ease? Envious even? 

That a man such as he had the luxury of enjoying the fruits of life. To use his blessed arms for something other than decoration? He was nothing like you. He was hardworking. You deemed yourself lazy. One person worked for the good of Inazuma, the other was mere property to the gaze of nobles. One had an impact on the grasslands, while the other collected dust. 

You stifled a laugh when he struggled against a vegetable that refused to be pulled out of the ground. He was tugging with all his might and just when he was about to give up, it came out with an easy ‘pop.’ He fell to the ground, albeit with a little frustration lacing his tongue. When you let out an awfully loud laugh, his head snapped up to you. 

His eyes widen as you smile at him. A gleeful expression was written across your face, a stark contrast to the gloomy, almost bored look that you came here with. At first, he thought you were laughing at him for being unfortunate and dare he say, a sad waste in the land of eternity. However, with your rather genuine smile and sweet laugh, he couldn’t help but feel enamored by your presence. 

And it was the same for you. Your eyes were met with the beautiful sight of a man’s grin, one that seemed so true that it made your heart flutter for a moment. Years spent with people whose smiles stretched too far sent shivers down your spine and made you uneasy. Yet his was warm like the sun. It felt kind. 

The whistling of your servant broke your attention. They ran down the hill and pulled on your arm, tugging you away from the fields. You looked over your shoulder, staring at the mysterious man one last time before waving. He seemed shocked at the small gesture, but he waved goodbye to you.

You wondered if the two of you will ever meet again. 

[ach-sss-no]

I feel weird giving out unprompted permission statements because I'm making a big assumption that anyone's going to want to use my work. That said I also know people do like to build on other people's art and can't always work up the nerve to ask, so: Anyone is free to use this design if they want to for any reason- I don't own this character anyway. (Although I am hopeful that you do not, you know, monetize it, because i cant do that and if you do that its not fair ;_; ) Feel free to remix, improve, use as basic inspiration, etc. I would appreciate a tag/mention if you use it so I can see what you did!

This design has evolved a little since I first started drawing it, and I will see people reblogging the original design notes and think 'oh no! those are out of date and I don't have new/accurate ones!'

Reblogging the old one is still an honor- and the first take on a design just sometimes has a different appeal because it's less refined and more chaotic (especially with a character that should be chaotic), so I suspect some people will just prefer the older drawings & they'll still get shared, which is great! But I felt as if the project was a little bit incomplete without an update, since I think I've reached the point where if you see that old post & then come to my blog and look at my current content, there's a noticeable difference.

Also I kind of like making design notes.

If anyone's wondering why things changed, the answer's really simple- 90% of it is just the result of him settling into having more consistent anatomy and facial structure so that I can keep him looking accurate across different angles and poses. If you look at the old drawings you may notice that Gollum has an inconsistently shaped squishy head. That's fine for a concept post but doesn't work as well for maintaining him across different comic panels or in an animatic, at least not the way I work.

In the same vein, while my art is still & will always be heavily stylized, I started giving him more structured semi-sorta-realistic anatomy so that he wouldn't look entirely out of place next to less bizarre-looking characters such as Aragorn. (I feel that's also helpful in nudging Gollum into the uncanny valley where he ought to be, rather than leaving him so abstractified that there's a risk you won't see anything wrong with him having noodle arms.) He also acquired the new-style 'garbage bag' outfit because I found a reference in LOTR to his arms and legs being bare/exposed (it's in one of my favorite passages, the 'an eagle would think Gollum was dead if it came by right now' passage in The Two Towers):

Not even an eagle poised against the sun would have marked the hobbits sitting there, under the weight of doom, silent, not moving, shrouded in their thin grey cloaks. For a moment he might have paused to consider Gollum, a tiny figure sprawling on the ground: there perhaps lay the famished skeleton of some child of Men, its ragged garment still clinging to it, its long arms and legs almost bone-white and bone-thin: no flesh worth a peck.

[polyamorous-eclipse-federation]

@mcytblrholidayexchange gift for @irrealisms !! you had lots of prompt ideas for writing, but not for art, so i hope you're happy with eclipse federation misery and agony compilation, plus song lyrics

lyric credits: Temporary - Chase Petra / Stranger - The Mechanisms / Easier - The Crane Wives (appears four times) / Two Birds - Regina Spektor / Little Soldiers - The Crane Wives (appears twice) / Heretic Pride - The Mountain Goats

feel free to ask if you want me to adjust some text to make it more readable or something, i think it looks fine but i know different peoples eyes and devices are different, and if i had more time i would definitely have spent more time messing with the colors on everything

speaking. of time. im really sorry i took so long ._. i kind of suck at estimating how long projects will take and how much time i have. thanks for being so patient!!

oh, also, some lyrics and drawings have story reasons for being grouped together, and some went where they looked good. uh. ideally id make sure everything had reason for its location, but this is one area where i did correctly estimate my time, instead of getting stuck in the planning phase.

also in the process of typing all this ive already gone back twice to change stuff in the images and re-add them to the post lol

OH also!! the part where vitalasy jumps off to his death! is as far as i can tell NOT canon accurate!! all the footage shows him jumping off the prison, since thats where he respawns. i didnt think to check this until after id already drawn most of the stuff, and already had the prison drawn, and i didnt want to reorganize the drawing. im telling myself that we only see a few of the later deaths and so theoretically the first one could have been jumping off a grassy ledge somewhere but its still bothering me and i needed to mention it.

anyway yeah really hope you like it i tried some new stuff with this one im not sure how well it turned out and thanks again for being so patient!!

EDITING TO ADD SOME MORE WORDS!!! i love talking about my art! so first, all the text on signs and stuff i did go back and look at videos and vods to make sure was entirely accurate, and i wrote all the words entirely by myself. for the lyrics and other text(death message and DELIVERANCE), i used a text tool first to make sure the words would be neat and where i needed them, and then traced over that on a new layer and deleted the original text layer. my handwritting fucking sucks always no matter what, this was a very necessary step. also! this is officially the first thing i have drawn entirely on my phone, rather than on my ipad like i used to do! also i dont use a stylus of any type i just draw with my finger lol.