#i have lots of doodles as evidence

[cutebutgrumpyartist]

Happy Birthday to the only, Jun Kurosu!!

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

since I saw your post of frank going butterfly hunting with their skirt, it got me wondering..what if eddie too had a skirt!

I imagine frank got him into the whole flowy dress ordeal. probably wears one when going through his mail shift or while working on the garden with frank.

oh my gosh...matching skirts!

considering that apparently Eddie has done drag, i imagine that its probably the other way around!!

i gotta a little lost in the sauce w/ these and forgot what the rest of the ask said besides "FranklyDear in skirts" oopsies <3

[bunnieswithknives]

How is David with social interactions? Is he shy, skittish, or does he not get interactions often?

I don't think David has purposefully socialized in years

[sysig]

You’ve caught my Wandering Eye ♥ (Patreon)

[hazard-and-friends]

wait what about sharpeis and poodles and how they relate to crop/dock? and have you found that anti-dock people are also against nbts or is it the opposite?

so here is the argument: we shouldn't crop/dock dogs because it takes away their communication tools. lots of dog body language is displayed via the ears and tail, so without those it's hard for them to communicate and be understood. there's a particularly stupid robot dog study that comes up a lot.

to which i respond, ok cool, so you're against nbts? and no, because nbts are Natural TM so that's okay. even tho nbts ALSO lack a tail and ALSO can't communicate with it, because they had it from birth instead of 3 days, that's meaningful here for some reason.

and i say ok so no shar peis or other breeds with small, tightly folded ears that don't signal very well (or tightly curled tails that barely wag or leave an erect posture)? and no, shar peis are fine.

and i say did you know how much signalling is done via the wrinkles around the eyes and the corners of the mouth? and if your dog has a coat that obscures those, like in poodles and doodles unless they have a clean face, that is really hard for anyone to read? they usually did not know this because everyone looks at the tail!!!

and then i point out that if you watch both crop/dock dogs and natural dogs of the same breed, a lot of the things we blame on the crop/dock are actually just breed things (aussies are assholes! it doesn't matter how much tail they have! ditto for dobes!), or can be found in other, non-crop/dock breeds. or both.

that part of proper socialization for puppies means exposing them to a wide array of dog shapes, because it's not that tailless dogs can't communicate, it's that they communicate differently. long-coated dogs give different signals than clean faced dogs, because they've learned that just wrinkling their mouth doesn't work.

...and also that why are we doing elective surgeries, why run the risk of nerve pain down the line, why throw off the balance and hips (and this DOES apply to NBTs too, i'm not keen on them either!), if we're going to do them, do them well, which means vets and not breeders and it means pain meds, and it means talking to vets and researchers about the efficacy and safety of pain meds in neonates, and wow, this suddenly looks complicated!

[aaroleswapau]

🌻🎭 long time no swap au .... (thanks for the peeps who sent doodle requests! :0])

what can i say, the people love maya!!!!!!! (very flattered actually shes one of my fave designs i did lol)

and also, thank you all for the very nice words omgg 😭💖💖 i know it's been a while since i've drawn or talked about this au (or used this sideblog in general asksk) but i am always very grateful that you all still enjoy it pftt <33 🥹🥹🫶🫶🫶

i've gotten a LOT of asks since the last time i posted here which:

AHHH!!! 🥹🥹🥹🥹 warms my heart to know that people are interested still ...

AH FUCK I HAVENT ANSWERED ANY OF THEM YET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i did gain like, new interests LOL as is evident in my main, so i gotta admit that the brainrot isn't as strong as it used to be! 😔

dw, ill get to answering em, they're in my drafts. i was just waiting for a time that the doodles i drew for the answers would get polished and, well. i just .. hafta get less busy first 😭😭

im gonna drop the latest swap!franziska lore one of these days DFGHD i finally made like a new design for her months ago, just didn't have any polished drawings to show for it but oh well

thanks again for sticking by :'^] i'll revive this sideblog once the brainrot kicks in again asksks <3333333

[joshym]

Muse

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary: Your struggling artist is desperate for some inspiration.

Word Count: 3.4k+

Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY), unprotected p in v, oral (f! receiving), a smidge of sir kink, some spanking, a lot of fluff because i can't help myself, Jake draws a naked portrait of you (let me know if i've missed anything)

a/n: special thanks to this lovely anon for this brilliant idea. this was way too much fun to write.

this was inspired heavily by that scene from the Titanic. (you know the one.)

as always, thank you to my favorite editor/motivator, @jakeyt.

i hope you enjoy. ♡

“I want you to draw me wearing this.” You reach into the lapel of the robe, retrieving his coin that now hangs from your neck. “Only this.”

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

His frustration is palpable, evident in the nearly incessant huffing emanating from behind the closed door of his studio.

It's moments like these that leave you feeling utterly helpless. There’s nothing you can do, no inspiration you can provide that will pull him from his artist’s block.  

He's been holed up in there for hours, since the early dawn, lost in the depths of his imagination, sketching away. You know better than to intrude; he's never been keen on sharing his work until it's finished.

In fact, he's never once allowed you a glimpse into his creative process. "It's the strange doodlings of a mind overrun with ideas. It's not to be seen until it's in its final form," he's reminded you countless times when your curiosity gets the better of you.

Still yet, you're consumed by the desire to witness his beautiful mind in action, crafting masterpieces in real-time, each stroke flowing from his soul through his tireless hand on his Somerset velvet sheets.

But, like any artist, he’s his own worst critic. He’s never truly satisfied with anything he creates, though you are left utterly speechless after each piece he finishes. His mind is a beautifully profound chasm of endless wonder, manifested through his artistry.

You hate when he has these moments of doubt, these instances when he questions whether he’s truly capable of such greatness. 

And you especially despise days like today, when he spends the better part of it feeling as though he has a mental brick wall in the way of his ingenuity, hindering his hand from bringing to life what his mind so desperately longs to conceive. 

Commissioned pieces, like his project today, always hold the most weight for him— from the need to earn a living, to his persistent worry that his art might not meet the expectations of the client. 

It’s not that he doesn’t love doing them, or that he’ll ever stop taking them; quite the contrary, they’re his favorite pieces to work on. They provide him with an added pressure that elicits some of his best work. 

But, reaching that point can be rather strenuous for him. It can at times take days, weeks before he discovers the creative impulsion he needs. 

And right now, he’s in that very rut, awaiting the surge of inspiration that will reignite his dulled spirit.

There truly is nothing you can do when he’s lost like this, and any effort you’ve attempted in the past has always proved useless. 

The one thing you can do, however, is prepare him some dinner.

He’s hardly left his studio today, and you know he’s not eaten much, if anything at all. Perhaps a morsel of sustenance will ignite the dormant embers of his mind. 

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

After a quiet tap to the door, he invites you in with a serene voice. 

He looks tired, but lovely as ever. The golden hour has officially set in the sky, and the opened curtains on the windows have allowed for a warm hue to encompass his studio, enveloping him in its delicate lume.

“That smells absolutely divine,” he remarks as you enter his studio, his plate and yours delicately balanced in your hands. 

“I figured a little homemade pasta would do you some good,” you tell him while you pad across the floor to his work station.

With a sly disposition and a playful glint in your eye, you aim to steal a glance of his day-long project, but alas, you’ve been caught. Your sweet Jake misses nothing.

"Not yet, my love," he murmurs, flipping the page over as he takes your hand, planting a tender kiss over your knuckles. "You know the rules."

“I know, I know.” Your response holds a bit of remorse. You know better, but can’t begin to help the relentless desire to see his mind at work. 

Setting his dinner on the desk he’s working from, you move yourself across the small office to the green chaise lounge that sits across from him, silently seeking his permission with your gentle glances. The smile in his eyes tells you that he’s more than happy to be graced with your company for the time being. 

After taking a bite of the spinach tortellini you prepared, he unbuttons his white striped shirt, removing it from his shoulders and stretching his arms high above his head as though he’s ridding himself of the weight of his frustrations.

You can’t help your glare, watching him do something so normal yet so intriguing all at once. 

His skin is velvety smooth, his chest rising and falling with every breath he takes, his chestnut wavy locks sitting atop his broad shoulders. You’re in awe each time you look at him; the sheer magnitude of his beauty never fails to steal your breath away.

And his necklace, his most cherished piece of jewelry that he wears each and every day. The precious coin, a relic salvaged from a centuries-old shipwreck that hangs against his chest.

The way it sits on his bare skin is nothing short of elating, sexy. It’s a wonderful addition to his already captivating aura. 

He’s flawless. Everything about him.

Once he catches your gaze, he responds with a sly wink, eliciting a blush that paints your cheeks a bright shade of pink.

Then, a thought begins to swirl around your mind for a brief moment. One that you’re shocked you’ve not conjured until now. 

The vision of the pendant against his bare skin sets your own imagination alight. 

“I’ve got an idea,” you propose, your voice soft and sultry, trying to pique his interest even just a little, something that may help the rusted wheels of his mind turn at full capacity once again.

While his focus remains on his work, his right eyebrow arches ever so slightly, and you catch the hint of a grin daring to curl in the corners of his mouth.

“And what might that be, my dear?” he asks with an unknowing, devilish smirk. 

As you get up, he hastily flips the page back over to hide his work from you once again.

“Don’t worry,” you say as you move behind him, placing your hands on his bare shoulders. “I won’t peek.”

You glide your fingers along his skin, feeling the subtle rise of each goosebump in the wake of your gentle touch.

He hums inquisitively as you delicately take hold of the clasp of his necklace in between your index and thumb, undoing it in one fluid motion before slowly slipping it from around his neck. 

“Be right back,” you say as you head towards the door. “Don’t move.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he responds, a myriad of questions splayed across his features.

With light steps, you make your way down the wooden floors of the hall towards your shared bedroom. Hanging on the back of the door is your sapphire hued satin robe, adorned with a delicate lace detailing along the hem—the one Jake has always fawned over. 

The satin drapes coolly against your skin as you slip it on, wearing nothing underneath, save for the weight of Jake’s necklace resting against your chest that you hide beneath the fabric. 

You run your fingers through your hair, adding a subtle tousled look, before applying a light blush to your lips and cheeks to impart a bit of natural color to your complexion.

And with that, you're poised and ready.

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

As you turn the corner to face his studio, you see a very weary version of your Jake. His head sits in the palms of his hands, his leg bounces up and down at a rapid rate—a clear sign of the mental battle he’s waging. 

This is as good a time as any for your little idea, and you’re hoping that it’ll be the very thing he needs to find some much needed initiative to keep going. 

“Hi, baby,” you venture, leaning your body alluringly against the frame of the door. 

As he looks up, a familiar twinkle dances in his eyes—a sight you've longed for all day long. It's a glimmer that tells you he's rather fond of the vision before him.

“And what exactly is your idea?” he inquires softly, slowly standing from his chair. But you stop him, motioning for him to stay just where he is as you saunter towards the chaise you were seated on just moments ago. 

“My idea,” you begin, making a very slow, deliberate attempt to untie the sash holding your robe together at the waist. “...is for you to draw me.” 

As if your thought has affected him physically, his posture immediately straightens, and his once tired eyes hold a renewed sense of life as they watch you intently. 

“I want you to draw me wearing this.” You reach into the lapel of the robe, retrieving his coin that now hangs from your neck. “Only this.” 

Your robe suddenly falls to the floor, revealing your fully nude figure that was hidden beneath. 

“Oh…” he utters, his tongue wetting his lower lip before tucking it between his teeth. “You can’t do this to me, baby. I can’t look at you like this an–”

“Consider it a commission,” you interrupt, tracing your fingers lightly up and down the skin of your torso. “And when you’re finished, if it’s to my liking, you’ll receive a full payment.”

With a raised eyebrow, his gaze sweeps up and down your form, while his index finger lightly grazes his chin.

“You’re quickly becoming my favorite client,” he quips, wiping a stray bead of sweat away from his forehead, tousling the front of his hair in the process. “Consider it done, ma’am,” he continues with a confirming nod of his head. 

You lay yourself down on the forest green velvet cushions, positioning yourself sensually across the chaise. Your body is turned slightly to the side, your leg gracefully crossed over the other, an elegant display of your curved silhouette. 

The warm glow that is so beautifully cast upon Jake, is now cast upon you, the aura laying over your nude body like a golden blanket of light. 

“Is this okay?” you ask him, draping your arm over the back of the chaise, making sure the coin sits meticulously atop your chest before your other arm falls to rest against your body. 

He simply grins while nodding his head, his eyes drinking you in, a mix of surprise and desire evident within his expression.

“Yeah, that um…that’ll do just fine,” he tells you, the slight crack in his voice eliciting a smile from you, a break in his professional facade. 

With a deep breath, he takes his prized Faber Castell 9000, carefully sharpening the tip just a bit before putting it against a blank sheet. 

And then, as the true artist you know him to be, he begins without a hint of hesitancy. The gentle sound of the lead scratching away at the paper fills the quiet room— a sound you’ve come to cherish, a sound that signifies his craft is steadily blossoming to life.

He seems charmingly nervous, his hand gently brushing against his nose every so often between a series of strokes from his pencil, clearing his throat more than usual. His eyes flint to you, then back to the paper, then back to you, a succession of his adoration and determination, ensuring that the likeness captured in his art closely mirrors your essence. 

You try to keep your face composed, a seductive allure about your features. But as you watch him, immersed in his passion, the way he’s studying you so intently, it becomes nearly impossible to suppress the beginnings of a smile upon your lips. 

But despite your efforts, he takes note of the curve adorning your flushed lips, mirroring it with his own. “Relax your face for me, beautiful.” The soft rasp in his tone is enough to send a blush throughout your whole body. 

Breathing in your nose and exhaling through parted lips, you’re able to reclaim your composure enough to steady your expression. 

Every moment you share with him is a brushstroke of beauty, but something about this one stands out. The intimacy of it all, how he must diligently study every inch of your form to convey your image through his art, the intensity behind his focused gaze…your heart is racing in your chest, despite your relaxed demeanor. 

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

With the sun almost hidden behind the early moon, he completes the final stroke.

He lays his pencil down, gently blowing on the paper to remove any stray lead before he picks it up, examining it closely while he walks it over to you. 

As he holds it out before you, allowing you to at last see his craft come to life, you’re left entirely awestruck. 

“Oh, Jake.” The sight before you leaves you nearly breathless. It exceeds every expectation, beyond the boundaries of your imagination. It’s a portrayal of you, but not just that— it’s how he sees you.

It’s the first time you’re witnessing yourself through his eyes, and in that, you feel a profound sense of beauty within yourself that you’ve never known. 

“Do you like it?” He asks, a slight tremor present in his voice. 

“It’s…incredible, Jake.” 

Propping yourself up a bit, you carefully take the drawing from his hands, poring over his vast attention to the detail in your face, your body. 

Specifically your breasts, how perfectly he depicted their round curve above your rib cage, encapsulating the fullness and allure of them. 

You’re entranced by the way he drew the contour of your hips, how he captured the dip in them that you’ve always looked at with disdain, yet in his portrayal, you’re able to see the beauty in what you’ve considered a flaw.

He encapsulated everything, even the faint freckle beneath the curve of your left breast, and the mole under your belly button. He managed to immortalize all the intricate nuances that you typically overlook.

“Is this what I really look like?”

“Yes, but,” he takes the drawing from you, placing it on the mahogany table beside the chaise lounge. He helps you lay back down, gently caressing your face that he’s just conveyed through his artistry as he props himself above you. “The essence of your beauty defies any depiction.”

Then, his lips envelope yours in a kiss so fervent, so ardent, as though he’s waited hours to finally have you within his grasp. 

His hand moves with a swift grace to your breast, fingers toying with your perked bud. This erotic moment with him has you already so flustered, so sensitive to every touch of his hands. 

He breaks his lips from yours, only to land them down the column of your heaving chest.

“You’ve no idea how hard it was for me to look at you like this, to look at these,” he mumbles against the tingling skin, hands kneading the flesh of your breasts. “And fight the urge to come place my lips on every inch of this beautiful fucking body.”

And just as he said, he bestows tender yet hungry kisses down the length of your torso, maneuvering his body down the chaise lounge until he kneels before you. He nestles his face perfectly between your thighs, his warm breath tantalizing your wet center from his dangerously close proximity. 

“I certainly hope you don’t let all of your clients pay you like this,” you mutter, breathless and yearning for his mouth. 

“Only the ones that tickle my fancy,” he says, his words adorned with a playful wink before he delves into you. 

He laps away at your pulsing cunt, like he’s been starved for your taste this entire evening. The lewd, lascivious sounds he’s emitting from between your legs only serve to heighten your need for him, causing your back to instinctively arch away from the plush cushions. 

And when his lips envelop your throbbing clit, his tongue swirling around it inside his warm mouth, your body trembles and shudders. A rush of warmth encompasses you, starting from the depths of your core, the pit of your stomach, spreading to every inch of your being. 

You surrender to the intoxicating bliss, your breath catching in your throat while your heart pounds in a crescendoing rhythm.  

He guides you through it, gently holding your hips in place while the movement of his tongue slows in perfect time as with the ebb of your climax.

“Oh, that was so beautiful, my love.” He lovingly kisses the inside of your thigh before he stands, removing the belt from his patchwork jeans. “Turn over for me, baby.”

“Yes, sir,” you quietly utter as you obey his demand, knowing good and damn well what that specific name does to him. 

Just as he commanded, you turn your body over to your stomach, placing your elbows against the arm of the chaise, your back arched as much as you can so that your ass is sticking up just right for him.

“Love when my sweet girl calls me that,” he purrs before his belt hits the floor, his jeans and underwear quickly in tow and freeing his impossibly hard cock. 

“So, what’s the verdict, my love?” You feel the cushion sink in behind you as he settles himself between your legs, his right hand caressing your hip while the other teases your soaked cunt with the tip of his cock, leaking with precum. “Was my work to your liking?”

You giggle breathlessly, poking your ass out even further as an offering to him for his hard work. “Yes, I believe you’ve earned your reward.” 

He steadily begins nudging his cock into you, going slow at first, allowing you to fully adjust to him. 

Inch by thick inch, he fills you completely to the hilt, your breath catching in heavy gasps that are robbed from your lungs as he buries himself deeply within you. 

Your nails claw at the velvet armrest as his thrusts quicken in their pace, your upper body nearly going limp as you’re no longer able to easily hold yourself up.  

His hands hold a firm grip at your lower waist, pulling you into his cock rhythmically, yet becoming more and more disordered as he’s beginning to lose himself to the pleasure. 

You cry out a slew of obscenities mixed with his name, begging him to fuck you harder, faster.

Without question he complies, landing an open palm against your ass cheek. “So good for me baby,” he hums, his thighs slapping against the backs of yours as he drives into you just the way you need. “So fucking good for me.” 

With one more vigorous thrust of his hips, you feel that familiar rush throughout your whole body as your cunt throbs and pulses incessantly around his cock.

“Fuck, I feel you, baby. Pretty little cunt squeezing me so tight.” You feel the twitching of his cock inside of you, an indication that he's on the very brink of his own release. 

“Cum inside me, sir. Please…need you to fill me.” Your voice is faltered, your body still reeling from your second climax. 

“Jesus,” he groans, moaning exasperatedly as your words have him spilling within you, filling you with his warmth just as you requested. 

He stays buried inside of you as he catches his breath, feeling his release slowly trickling down your thighs as you struggle to fill your own lungs. 

You have to fight the urge to protest when he begins pulling himself away from you, not yet ready for the empty feeling he leaves you with. 

You practically collapse against the cushion, your body exhausted in the most enthralling way, the kind of exhaustion that only immense amounts of pleasure can bring forth. 

“My sweet, beautiful girl,” he whispers, kneeling himself before you as he softly caresses your flushed cheek. 

You kiss the pad of his thumb as it crosses over your mouth, summoning the strength to lift yourself up enough to steal one from his lips. “I hope it worked,” you say, gently cupping his face in your hand. 

“You hope what worked, my love?” He asks, leaning into your soft touch. 

“I was hoping this would help inspire you.” You reach for the drawing, savoring its beauty once more. “I was hoping I could help inspire you, pull you out of your moment of doubt.” 

“My love,” he murmurs, setting the portrait back down before he gently brushes his lips against yours. “You inspire me endlessly, every single day.” 

His tender smile warms your very soul as he leans in for a deeper kiss, imbued with all the love you could ever want for.

“You’re my perfect muse,” he utters against your lips, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” 

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

a/n: suffice to say, this inspired the hell out of me when i've lacked inspiration/motivation lately. thank you, anon.

if you have any juicy ideas, feel free to send them my way. ♡

love you guys.

taglist: (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!)

@jakeyt @objectsinspvce @stayinginthesun @sinarainbows @stardustcordzz @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @highway-tuna @way-to-go-lad @reesetrippingthelight @jakesgrapejuice @sacredjake @notthedroidz @kiszkashousee @psychedelicstardust-gvf @jjwasneverhere @gvf-ficreads @stardust-jake @gretavanbear @gvfmelborne @sirjaketkiszkasharmonica @jaaakeeey @neptune2324 @jaketlove @myleftsock @joshskittytickler @audgeppp @jordie-gvf @gretavansara @gretasfallingsky @jazzyfigz @louiseecraigg @hippievanfleet @blacksoul-27 @sarafrusciante2 @heckingfrick @citylight-delight @electricgoldtendercare @musicspeaks @hollyco @gvfpal @dannys-dream @josh-iamyour-mama @edgingthedarkness @earthgrlsreasy @hernameis-heaven @mackalah @gvfmarge

Masterlist

[cj-the-random-artist]

Evidently I am going to be in a spooky mood until long after Halloween. Thus. More spooky team GIGS (plus Gem) Phasmo doodle.

I sent the sketch of this to my friend and she said it looked like a security camera angle so I went with it (big thank you to my friend who made this happen). But anyways. GIGS plus Gem because I thought it would be cool since Gem's joined them a couple of times lately which is fantastic. In case it's not obvious, I've been loving the Phasmophobia stuff lately lol

There's like 4 more version of this that I'm going to put under the cut, since I loved this in every stage of the process and want y'all to be able to look at all of them muahahahahaha

Enjoy this doodle (and the many versions under the cut) and have good day :D

Muahahaha lots of versions

If you've made it this far. I hope this was worth the look. And I hope you've caught some of the references. I know for certain two of them are nearly impossible to see because of how tiny and pixelated they are lol so good luck finding those ;)

[doctorsiren]

what’s gumshoe in your au?? i have to know i love him

Okay so my first doodle request I drew for that big huge doodle request thing I did recently was of a robot design for Gumshoe. I really like this design and I wanted to keep it for the monster AU. I actually have a lot of thoughts for Gumshoe that hit me like a truck this morning when I was brainstorming and so I shall share them :)!!

Detective Dick Gumshoe was actually an investigation robot that Gregory Edgeworth had been building to help the defense (wow! A dad who builds robots? In one of my AUs?? Who would have guessed) but then y’know…DL-6 happened.

And so Gumshoe was shoved into an evidence room and forgotten about until one day 10 years later, Miles Edgeworth stumbles upon him while retrieving some old evidence for something (unimportant)

Miles vaguely remembers this robot as his dad’s side project. In fact, the robot is wearing his father’s tan trench coat. Miles boots him up, and Gumshoe, confused, thinks that Miles is Gregory for a moment (because of their faces and also his tech is worn down), before recognizing that “oh no wait, this is his kid but older??”. Gumshoe doesn’t realize that he’s been shut off for a decade and also doesn’t know that Gregory is dead.

Miles is taken aback when Gumshoe is able to recognize him as Miles because it’s been 10 years and also Miles had been turned into a vampire during that decade. That moment of his father’s robot still recognizing him was one of the foundational moments that would later lead to his complete doubt and uncertainty in von Karma’s ways (which were completely toppled over by Wright in the years to come)

So Miles does his best to patch Gumshoe up, and now he has this robot detective at his side. Von Karma doesn’t approve, but he’s also trying not to alert this detective bot to him being suspicious, just in case it’s able to figure out the truth behind DL-6

Von Karma’s caution surrounding Gumshoe was unfounded, however, since Gregory was never able to finish the robot. This resulted in the not-so-smart detective we all know and love, simply due to his programming never being completed. Although a directive that *was* completed was the programming that Gregory had implemented in Gumshoe to always protect his son Miles. That’s why Gumshoe is always so loyal to the vampire, even when Miles tells him how bad of a detective he is. It’s also why even though Gumshoe had been built originally to be an aid for the defense, he is loyal to the prosecution.

Gumshoe also views Miles as his brother, on the basis that they technically have the same dad. Miles acts annoyed and like he doesn’t agree, but he secretly is happy to have this reminder of his father still around. Gumshoe does end up getting his own trench coat and letting Miles keep the tan one that belonged to Gregory.

Anyways i think I’ve put more thought into Miles and Gumshoe’s characters for this AU than I have put into all the other characters in the AU combined 😭

[icepoptroll]

So I'm seeing some folks are interested in my nurse Karnak AU! I've been filling in on a lot of day shifts lately so I haven't had as much time to sit down and draw but here are some ideas I've had because yes I do intend to write this, I feel it would be too fun to pass up:

Penny is in really bad shape. Ricky, now very much attached to her, wants to see her but knows he's likely to get shooed away if seen entering her room. Mischa causes a big scene to create a distraction so Ricky can visit with Penny because Mischa is a total bro (Ricky resolves he'll just be super super careful)

I've been asked what the deal with Virgil is and quite honestly I'm not sure I'm imaginative enough to think of some role for him here that isn't pure unadulterated nonsense. However my experience as a nurse is that many of us can't stand our companies' charting software so like what if "Virgil" is the name of the hospital's documentation system. Noel hears Karnak mutter "you're killing me, Virgil" under his breath when his computer crashes yet again, goes completely apeshit and tells all the others. This incident is then recorded in the "this nurse is the robot genie looking guy from purgatory" evidence files

Karnak is giving me seasoned RN vibes like he freaking runs this place

Gotta research roller coaster injuries for this, unsure what exactly would have happened to everyone

Here's some fast and messy doodles to show I really am working on it lol (ACTUALLY quite proud of the Dinamap lol)

[thegoldencontracts]

Too Late!

You and Azul are texting each other one day when he accidentally sends you some more honest texts.

Note/Warnings: Azul/Reader, fluff with a smidgen of angst (specifically Azul insecurities, he gets comforted tho)

You loved Azul. A lot. You'd been dating him for quite a while now, after all. But you couldn't deny that it felt like he was a bit- formal with you, to say the least. Sometimes, it felt like he was playing the role of a perfect boyfriend in a Romance Novel's screen adaptation. How did he really feel? Was he happy to be somewhere, or was he just playing along so that the other students in his dorm could see how attractive and understanding he was while they seethed in envy at the fact that they were single and he wasn't?

Which was why when Azul slipped up one day when you were texting, you were very, very happy about it.

It was a boring evening, like always. You were texting Azul, complaining about your homework while lounging in your bed like always. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Zuzuuu <3: You know, if you'd like, I'd be happy to assist with your homework. It'll even be on the house, just for you.

Me: cant believe im dating a capitalist mf /lh

Me: really tho, tysmmm for helping <3 I don't deserve u bbg...

And then, something completely out of the ordinary happened.

Zuzuuu <3: how could you say that you're literally so perfect? I love you so much I keep doodling you bc you're so. Pretty. I simp so hard for you plz never say that again <3

At first, you wondered if Floyd wrote the text as a joke. It was pretty in character for him, after all. But that didn't make sense. This wasn't Floyd's way of texting, nor did it even attempt to imitate Azul's. When Floyd was in the mood to prank someone, he put in the effort to make it good.

Whatever. You took a screenshot of the message so you could treasure it forever. And lucky you, because right after you did, the message was deleted.

Zuzuuu <3: Please don't say such things about yourself, even for comedic purposes.

He was not being slick with that. You sent a text in response, giggling all the while.

Zuzuuu <3: Regardless, would you like to come over later today?

Me: Real slick hehe... Plz show me ur doodles of me they probably look so good bc you're good at art just like everything else somehow

After a while, Azul replied.

Zuzuuu <3: I don't know what you're referring to. Regardless, would you like to come over?

As much as you wanted to press, you decided not to. Too much pressing would just make Azul clam up more. You'd just have to get him in person, where it'd be harder for him to run away when you showed him the screenshot.

Me: Sureee! Heading over right now

And so, you set out for Octavinelle, evidence in hand. You were going to make him admit he sent that text.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time you got to Azul's room, you had everything planned out. He wasn't usually so candid with you, and he was clearly ashamed of it when he was. You were going to figure out why.

You knocked on the door, and Azul opened it, letting you in.

"Come in," he said, tone even more formal than usual, by some miracle.

"Thanks," you said, taking a seat.

"So, about that text-"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Azul said, quick to cut you off.

"So quick to interrupt, Azul!" You said with a mock-pout, before grinning as you pulled up the screenshot on your phone. "But I think you do."

First, Azul's mouth hung open in shock. Then, his whole face turned red, lip quivering as a high-pitched whine left his mouth. Then, he moved to snatch the phone from your hands.

You narrowly dodged, and you couldn't resist sticking out your tongue at him.

"Too slow!" You laughed as he tried to grab the phone from you again, only to fail even more without the element of surprise on his side, because for all of Azul's many strengths, speed wasn't one of them.

"Delete that at once!" He shrieked, voice cracking in the middle.

He kept trying to grab it for a while, before finally giving up.

"Fine, fine," he grumbled, pouting like a kid. Cute. "You win. Are you satisfied now?"

"Very," you said, "because I get to see you. Your actual thoughts. Not just the ultra-filtered version."

Azul scoffed at that, seemingly in disbelief, though you saw the way he stifled a smile.

"Don't flatter me," he said. "My 'true thoughts' are not something you'd want to see in the slightest. Merely a more pathetic, messy version of what I already tell you."

"And that's precisely why I want to hear it," she said. "You sound so perfect all the time that I wonder whether you're really being honest with me, you know. It's just so refreshing to see you be gushy and candid about things. And pretty cute."

"How odd," he said, before turning to you with a face more genuine. "Thank you. For what little it's worth, I'll try to be a tad more honest with you. I can't promise anything, though."

You smiled.

"That's all I ask."

And really, truly, that was enough.

Bonus:

"So, how'd you learn so much internet lingo? Never took you for that kinda guy."

"I'm in the board games club with Idia Shroud. What did you expect?"

[crushedsweets]

Can you draw or talk more about Toby and Eyeless Jack or even the X-Virus?

YESSSS i can. heres a lil doodle to get me started.

OKKKK the little concept in my head has slender's MAIN GOAL being to prevent any paranormal/supernatural stuff coming out to the general public. hence his proxies being made to get rid of tapes, evidence, and kill if Necessary. sometimes slender makes paranormal/supernatural ppl help out his human proxies "as payment for refuge" in his forest. SO that sorta explains how toby and jack know each other and why jack helps at all. he can't rlly go out to the public so he's stuck with these assholes. it's not really supposed to be a 'mansion' trope, moreso random cabins and shelters littered about the forest, but it could work in the mansion au too

Imma ramble abt toby n jacks friendship (in my head) under the cut + a random x virus doodle

as for toby and jack specifically. toby is impulsive, aggressive, can't feel pain, and doesn't know what's good for him, so he's forced to get help from jack a good bit. for a long while there was hella tension between them since, again, jack isn't helping these guys out of the goodness of his heart. he's helping them bc the forest their boss resides in is the only place he's relatively safe. jack has a weird mix of a inferiority and superiority complex, since he envies toby's humanity but also feels like he's 'better' due to toby's own . . violent habits. toby thinks jack is pretty cool from the get-go ('wooow ur grey..') but he gets pissed off with jack's questions and demands of 'DONT RIP UR FUCKING STITCHES' and 'u have a concussion don't fucking scroll on your phone for 5 hours a day'.

toby has no idea if these demands come from actual concern or annoyance, and frankly, neither does jack. regardless, toby's with jack a decent bit. partially since jack makes a lot of people really uncomfortable so it's easy to go hang out with jack when he doesnt wanna deal with anyone else but still wants company. eventually theyre capable of some decent banter and conversations. theyre both mamas boys so thats a very weird touchy topic that they kinda dance around but both feel very deeply and know the other relates. THEY MISS THEIR MOMS SO BADLY.. :( mayhaps one year toby helps drop off flowers to jack's moms house for mothers day. jacks way too ashamed to even get within a 10 mile radius of his mom. that's kinda the moment things really shift between them and they actually become friends.

toby also asks abt university. lyra was at community college until she passed, and toby never considered college as an option, so he gets curious on what he missed out on. he also likes to share stuff abt lyra and their old shenanigans. tim and brian have used his childhood against him multiple times before, and it's not like he's gonna trust ben or jeff with that information. jacks sort of like a void he could talk into. jack feels uneasy talking about his life before the sacrifice, since he misses it so unbelievably bad, but toby accidentally got him to talk about it while treating a burn before.

ok and to top this fucking essay off heres xvirus. i had no idea he existed until this year and someone sent me an ask about his updated design, so he's some scribbles for him :9 his concepts super cool tho so maybe ill get more into him later on

[sysig]

Your Weekly TV Guide

On Monday you can expect:

2:30 PM: Original - Concept art

And Tuesday:

2:30 PM: The Stanley Parable

Wednesday:

2:30 PM: Mob Psycho 100

Thursday:

2:30 PM: MP100

Friday:

2:30 PM: Star Control II - Helix

Saturday:

2:30 PM: Dragon Quest IX

Sunday:

2:30 PM: SCII - Helix

Thanks for tuning in! (Patreon)

[meruz]

sorry if this has been asked before, but i wanted to ask about your lineart! the weight and line economy are just so nice, i get stars in my eyes looking at your lineart and doodles. could i ask what your approach to lineart is and what tips you might offer?

Wow I love these questions - Line is so interesting!!! It's a really big topic so I feel like any tips I give will be just barely scratching the surface. It's like deceptively simple...any given line drawing is essentially taking all the information we glean from seeing something irl ie light, shadow, dimension, texture, perspective, etc and boiling it down to the simplest possible visual information.

I think most commonly my line is informed by light source so like. thicker more continuous lines face away from the light and thinner more broken lines towards. and a lot of my spot blacks r simply cast shadows.

here's a more extreme example

BUT like everything to do with art there's no hard and fast rules. I use blacks when I think it'll be effective or interesting and I leave them out when I don't need em. umm couple things I find myself doing a lot... using spot blacks to make the separation between characters clearer. I like casting shadow in between characters so its easy to separate and read their silhouettes even when they're mashed together.

u can go even further to purposely create a silhouette like

to draw attention to a finger or tongue LOL. There's some comic book artists who are absolute masters at this type of stylization. Alex toth and his spiritual successor Chris samnee come to mind for me right away.

(toth)

(samnee)

I feel like I'm also often using line weight to separate planes receding in space

im naturally a really heavy handed and scribbly drawer(...?) draftsman. and im nearsighted so when i see things i percieve and break it down into big shapes over thin contours. so stuff like spot blacks and shadows came easy to me, the tricky part was making the rest of the lines lighter when they needed to be so the blacks could actually have impact LOLL. a lot of effective visual communication is about balancing contrasts. like I had to really train myself to press less hard on the pen. I think this is actually really evident if u go back in my archive to older sketches LOL

I actually feel like a lot of how I trained my hand to tackle line weights was thru stuff like hand lettering where you rly have to focus on being sensitive to that kind of thing.. contrasting strokes etc.

also exercises like figure drawing will have you flexing those muscles constantly

I'm starting to just regurgitate lessons from freshman year of art school so I'll stop here with the demos but yeah...I hope this was helpful!? I love line!!! I want to get even better at line work so I can feel confident posting work that's only line no color or value... I'll leave you with a bunch of artists who I think have particularly expressive and beautiful linework (not including toth and samnee who I already mentioned and who's work I love so much). You can probably learn much more from them than you can from me...!

Charles dana gibson LOL

Matias bergara

tonci zonjic

naoki urasawa

Daniel warren johnson

shiyoon kim

michel breton

also yoji shinkawa, tomer hanuka, leo romero, I feel like I'm gonna post this and think of so many more. there's so many good artists...!

[connorsbonez]

Upon knowing Tim for a while and catching feelings

Danny: I’m going to be completely normal about this. {Kinda bullshit ngl}

Wes, already pulling out his laptop and checking how much memory he has in his camera left: I’m not :)

Getting feelings for Wes and Danny

In the beginning - Tim: Oh no, oh no. Wait no, I can be normal about this, this is fine. {Moderate bullshit} It’s not like they’re interested in me anyways, they’re already dating each other!

After seeing the bulletin board

Tim: So this is love.

Tim: Wait no, focus. They know your identity, this could have been a set up to manipulate me and ruin everything.

Tim, staring at the heart doodles around his photos and on random pieces of paper: Yep total manipulation.

The Confrontation

Tim: Have you been flirting with me to use me to try to destroy my family?

Danny: No it’s because we both enjoy you as a person and want to date you.

Tim, trying to squish down any sense of hope: Then why do you have a bulletin board analyzing me and literal evidence on my secret identity?

Wes: Okay one, that’s hypocritical, two, masks don’t work on Danny and I, and three, a plan and strategies are very much needed for us or else Danny would have just gone up to you and asked it you wanted to make this two-way into a three-way.

Tim: …

Danny: …So do you?

Tim, close to tears: Yes.

Wes meeting Bernard for the first time

Wes, literally vibrating in place as he listens to Bernard go on about his theories: So love at first sight is a thing. Guess I need to give Paulina an apology.

Catching feelings for Bernard - Dealing with it

Wes: I’m being totally normal about this. {Unquestionable bullshit}

Danny, looking between Wes, Tim, and Bernard: I’m starting to think I may have a type.

Tim: I’ve already known this but now I have to actually acknowledge it.

Playboy Arc?

Dick: Hey Tim, what the hell is this? *Shows Newspaper: Following Wayne’s Footsteps? Timothy Drake-Wayne a playboy? And images of Tim on separate dates with his boyfriends* Who are these dudes?

Tim: Oh those are just my boyfriends.

Dick: Your what.

Jason: Imagine being a replacement

Tim: Imagine having no bitches

Inspired from this:

[moreespressoformydepresso]

Hot take:

Coriolanus Snow did not love Lucy Gray, even though he loved her.

Bear with me for a second I know this sounds like an oxymoron but I promise I can make it make sense. The TL;DR is that both SnowBaird shippers and detractors are right, but also very very wrong. I’ll explain.

People who say Snow was genuinely in love with Lucy Gray are wrong. Flat out incorrect. And I say this so bluntly because of one simple factor: before the games, he needed Lucy Gray to promise total devotion to him. This 16 year old girl was about to be thrown into an arena to fight to the death and his concern was whether she was committed to him?? That’s not love. That’s need. Remember the saying “if you love someone, let them go”? It exists for a reason. If you truly love someone, you want what’s best for them. You want them to be happy, even if that means stepping away. Snow was not ready or willing to do this. If there was even a chance of him having to step away, he was prepared to just leave her to her fate to die. And this happened relatively early in the story when you look at the importance of events. Most of the moments we can point to and go “that’s a turning point for him” happen either during or after the games. Funnily enough this ties to a very simple fact of the story that seems to fly over a lot of fans’ heads, if they’re not just outright ignoring it.

Snow did not lose his mind or go insane over the course of the story. The whole point is that he was always this way, and looked every opportunity to choose to be a good person dead in the eyes as he dashed them to pieces, burned them to ashes and used the charcoal left over to draw happy little doodles on their graves. This story has two points, with the first being a subversion of the “uwu villain with a tragic backstory to excuse their actions” trope. The second one is gleefully stewing in all the ways the people Snow wronged in his early life haunted him until the day he died, especially Sejanus and Lucy Gray. That’s just one example of Snow not actually caring about Lucy Gray, but there are more. They’re sprinkled all throughout the story, culminating in the final scene where he attempts to murder her.

However

Coriolanus Snow did have genuine feelings for Lucy Gray. He was prepared to ruin his entire future to save her, knowing that getting caught cheating would destroy all he’s worked for his entire life. When he was forced to become a peacekeeper, he asked to go to 12 in hopes of seeing her again. He went out of his way to track her down and they shared genuine moments together. By now, he has no ulterior motive for being around her. No prize, no game to win, nothing to gain except happy memories. Snow wanted to be with her. And Lucy Gray wanted to be with him. There’s a skeleton of a genuine relationship there, inklings of the love story Lucy Gray was convinced they were destined to have. That wasn’t fake, those were real feelings and it could have been beautiful. If it wasn’t for one tiny little problem: Lucy Gray is not who Snow thought she was. She isn’t who he wanted her to be. In other words:

Coriolanus Snow thought he loved Lucy Gray Baird, when in actuality he loved the idea of her he’d created in his mind.

You see, this boy is the least reliable narrator to ever narrate in the history of ever, beaten out only by Humbert Humbert. And in similar fashion to Lolita it looks like people are making the mistake of taking his word at face value when the point the book tries to make is that you should not do that. Snow looked at his choice to keep bashing Bobbin over the head after he was already knocked out and decided to take it as evidence that all human beings lose their humanity when cornered (even though he was no longer cornered), he is very clearly not a trustworthy individual when it comes to making logical deductions. Especially because he can be neck-deep in denial sometimes. Snow never cared about Lucy Gray, the Covey girl, singer and performer who lost most of her family to a massacre and was forced to stay in one district rather than moving around like she used to. He cared about Lucy Gray Baird, district 12’s female tribute for the 10th hunger games. And those are not the same people. Tribute Lucy Gray Baird was locked in a zoo, forced to perform at all times to survive. Lucy Gray was free to be her authentic self (trauma not withstanding) and while she loves to perform, it’s a different kind. There’s no pressure, she can leave the stage if she so desires. She can roam as free as one can in the districts and no longer needs a mask to live.

In the book, Snow outright says he wishes she was still locked in the zoo so he knew where she was and she couldn’t leave. He loved the Lucy Gray that was contained. The one that was considered his by the people around him. The girl who relied on him completely because she had to. He loved what she was forced to be in order to not die, and when he saw the real her he wished she would be more like the girl he met. Which was not the real Lucy Gray. Snow loved the act she put on, and to some extent the control he had over her. He had genuine feelings for her, but not for the real her.

To conclude this rambly mess: shippers will pretend Snow genuinely loved Lucy Gray for all she was. This is not true. A certain subsect of people who hate this ship will say he never cared for her at all. This is also not true. And in a fandom for a book about the nuances of even the worst people on earth, that’s very funny.