#i just needed a bit more art on here to start

[drawingfandomes]

It’s been way too long since I’ve posted anything to my tumbler but now that I’ve been home for summer break for a bit and am trying to get back into good and productive habits I figure I might as well start posting on my tumbler again!

I don’t know if I’ll do daily posts but I’ll at least try to post weekly or so, I don’t want to tie myself down to a posting schedule I’ll never keep, especially since I shouldn’t need one for an app like this, so I’ll just say expect at least one post a week from me and sometimes bonus posts, as once a week is at least enough to where I won’t just never post here again for months on end.

Also since it’s pride month, aka June for about a week and a half more, I’ll be reposting pride art on here along with my own art!

may your days be filled with love, joy, and peace 💟

[mechncheese]

Do you have any tips for drawing transformers/simplifying transformer designs :0?? Your art retains their 3-dimensionality without sacrificing their posability and all this while using 'simple' looking shapes, it's genuinely very satisfying to look at

Thank you ! One of the biggest challenges for me when I first got into drawing transformers was trying to keep their movement from being too stiff while keeping their design robot-like so I'm glad that it reads as fluid to people !

I'm used to drawing organic characters, working with simpler designs, and emphasizing movement and flow so this was definitely new territory for me !

I'll talk about my simplification process below !

The easiest way to go about simplifying transformer designs is reducing them to their basic shapes and then building them back up. You can see it a lot in G1. Since G1 characters are designed to be animated (and also look like toys) they can't make their designs too complex so it makes a good starting point when breaking bots down.

The comic designs are a different story. Because it's a different medium, artists can go ham with details.

IDW Thundercracker has a lot going on ! You can see all his mechanics and joints, he looks a bit overwhelming to draw !

G1 Thundercracker is more blocky and simplified, definitely less intimidating to draw, he's mostly just cubes

When I simplify transformers, I break them down and then gradually add details. I think about it like carving out a statue, you have your block of marble and you carve out details until you're happy. You definitely do NOT need to draw every detail, I always leave out a bunch of detailed parts in favor of simplicity.

Let's simplify IDW Thundercracker, if you break him down into shapes, he is also just cubes. The red underneath is my initial sketch and the blue outline is just there to show the shapes.

It also helps to have an understanding of perspective and the way 3D shapes work.

I'd say this is the base for him ! He follows almost the same base as g1, we're keeping it blocky but I do take liberty to taper parts of the body like towards the knees and or along the arms to give my pose some fluidity. Then we shove on his details bit by bit

A lot of it is just picking and choosing design elements you like about a character and finding ways to make it fit onto the design. Thundercracker's IDW design has these cool ribs that go along his torso and I tried to include that while simplifying it.

Something I try to avoid is shoving as Many details as possible onto a design. It can make the design look cluttered and busy and that might be good if that's what you're going for but it's just not for me. I find that more details make it harder to pose my robots so I keep it minimal.

Applying color also gives you a good look at how much room your design has. Here's TC colored !

I could stop here and call him done but I think he looks a bit too spacious so I'm going to add some more details. Here's where I get a bit wild and kind of just do what I want. For me, the references are a base and as I get further along down the design I add seasoning to taste. More plating, different hues and colors, bits and baubles, and artistic flare. Here's where I wind up !

I'm happy with this ! I think Anymore detail and he would be a bit too cluttered (his wings are already reaching the Clutter Point for me)

As you draw more and more designs you'll develop an eye for what you like ! The world is your oyster and you can always go back and redesign/adjust !

[scannainscanrula]

shadowed corners

remmick x reader (18+ mdni)

You're a romance author suffering from insomnia, writer's block, and strange nightmares. Your publisher offers to send you to Maine for a short sabbatical to clear your head. It's a quaint town with charming locals, and a mysterious man running the lighthouse that nobody seems to know much about... [part two here]

author's note: well well here we are again. this is MUCH longer than my other fic and i intend to have at least 3(?) chapters for it, so strap in girlies. no smut just yet yous have to earn it first by sitting through all this fucking exposition. grma enjoy! warnings: horror elements, discussion of animal death, discussion of shark attacks, sexual themes

You sit at your desk in front of an empty document, the cursor blinking at you mockingly. Your eyes are tired and your head feels heavy, and the last time you fell asleep at your desk you had drooled on your keyboard, and you really don’t want to find a place to get it fixed. 

“An old-school computer always helps me when I have writer’s block,” one of your colleagues had told you at a cocktail party when you lamented about your publisher’s insistence on a new concept.

You had a very embarrassing and uncomfortably visible breakdown in her windows-only corner office. You began word-vomiting all over her sleek carbon fibre desk about your writer’s block and insomnia– leaving out the extra embarrassing detail of your recurring sexy nightmares– and she had patted your back and attempted to comfort you with corporate jargon. When the tears started she lowered some blinds and lowered her voice, sitting against the edge of the desk in front of her.

“Look, kid. You’re a hell of a writer, okay? Nothing sells like your stuff. I mean, I don’t get it, but the girls love this… creepy vampire stalker shit.”

Dark romance, you want to correct her, but it’s futile after four years working together. 

She sighed, crossing her arms.

“How about… I give you a company card and you go… rent on the coast somewhere for a few months? We have some contracts to draft because these streaming services are just chomping at the bit for rights to adapt. So you go pack your things and take a break. Get an Ambien prescription, fuck a fisherman, whatever you need to do.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll bankroll it.”

She taps her manicured acrylic nail on the cover of your most recent title, Shadowed Corners. It was a total and complete success, where your first two were mafia romances set in the same universe, SC was a dark romance with a vampire love interest stalking your adorable main character. You love red flags, and Milo was covered in them.  

“You’re a money-printing machine, babe.”

So here you are, not relaxing, not on sleeping pills, and completely unfucked by any hot guys. You press your fingers to your temples and sigh, closing the pages and pushing the circular off button for the computer. You slide back and lean forward, stretching your creaky back. You miss your cozy little setup at home, your comfortable chair and the souped-up gamer style keyboard. You sacrificed comfort hoping it would make you work harder, but you think you’ll just finish this little sabbatical with more lower-back pain than usual. 

You fill your water bottle with the filter in the fridge, admiring the stickers all over it. Among the logo of your publishing house and the ones about writing, you have fanart of your books and quotes from your own characters. Ones you’ve found at book fairs and second-hand stores as well as online. A handful were sent along with fanmail. Your laptop and idea notebook are covered too, because it drove you mad to know people liked your stuff enough to make art out of it. 

You huff and trudge up the stairs, feeling exhausted and dreading the next day. You sit in your bed and look at the sticker of Milo with his signature phrase I’d like to see you stop me, babygirl. 

You turn the bottle away from you as you open the bedside drawer. Inside of it are two options. A scent-proof bag that holds your pipe, grinder, and bud, a vape, and a few edibles. The other is a vibrator. You wonder what the point of this vacation was. You could get high and get off at home in the city. And at least there you could order munchies for delivery after you’d fucked yourself silly thinking about the made-up vampire in your head.

You just shut the drawer, rolling your eyes as you lay back. 

Two hours later, you can’t sleep. You’re “jerking off your ego” as your friends would call it, looking through positive reviews of your last title. You know you have detractors, people who think your work is trash or anti-feminist. It’s a little trashy, but it’s just for fun. And you’ve had your share of shitty boyfriends like any girl your age, you know the difference between right and wrong. God forbid a girl wants a hot vampire to follow her home, you think. 

You sit up and put your phone face down. You need fresh air. You need a walk. So, you bundle up and stick in headphones for a brisk, freezing, 7 PM wintertime mental health walk. The New England air isn’t just cold, it’s thick and wet with the marine layer from the ocean, which you’re a short walk away from. It’s not nice, but it does invigorate you as you follow the path from your little cottage down to the beach. It’s pretty private, tucked away in a little alcove– which you were warned not to enter when the tide is too high. You peek over to see it’s not. So you climb down and skirt around the rocks to walk on the main beach, which is empty. Obviously. The recently released audiobook of one of your peers’ newest titles plays in your ears, narrated by a sultry English man. You should have gone somewhere else for inspiration. You vaguely remember hearing someone at a book release party talk about how inspiring their trip to France was, and another person responded about their time in Ireland. You’ve mostly just met fishermen and townies, and none of these men had the Milo quality about them. 

Milo was inspired by a stunning man you saw while at a nightclub in New York City. You were very, very drunk on espresso martinis, but you saw him and his adorable girlfriend– who also served as your muse for Annmarie, SC’s protagonist– at the bar together. His arm was around her waist in a way that was possessive but romantic, his hand rested over her tummy, and you saw his thumb rubbing circles into her skin lovingly. 

“Oh my God, girl, are you seriously drooling? You are so drunk,” your friend had half-sighed, half-laughed as you wiped a little drool from your chin with the back of your hand.

“We have got to get you some dick, queen,” another friend joked.

“I am perfectly fine being single,” you protested.

“Nuh-uh, I read that last book of yours. All work and no dick makes you fucking crazy. How did you come up with that shit anyway?”

“She’s totally sick in the head, that’s how.”

Your back straightens up as you think you hear a voice.

“Miss!”

You pause the book and turn around to see a man jogging behind you, holding something in his hands. You freeze with terror until you realise it’s your notebook he’s holding.

“You dropped this,” he says, handing it over. He stays a nice distance away from you.

He has some sort of Southern accent, not New England. 

And he is very, very attractive. He wears a tight black t-shirt and black athletic shorts. His short hair is semi-dark, and probably reddish from the way it looks in the blue moonlight. He smiles politely at you, his dark eyes are hard to see. There’s a scruff of facial hair on him.

“Thanks.”

“Sorry, I… I woulda tapped your shoulder, but I was worried you’d sock me in the nose if I scared you.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Are you uh… you okay? It’s pretty dark out here.”

“Yeah, I know. I was just clearing my head.”

“Right.”

You take a breath and introduce yourself quickly.

“I’m Remmick,” he says.

“So, what are you doing out here, Remmick?”

“Well, I work at that lighthouse. Just takin’ a jog before I head up there.”

“Oh.”

Hot lighthouse worker. That could be a love interest.

“You on vacation? I think I’d remember your face if I’d seen it before.”

Charming lighthouse worker. 

“I’m uh… on a sort of sabbatical.”

“You a doctor or something?”

“God, no. I’m a writer.”

“Yeah?”

The tone and timbre of that yeah have your head spinning. 

“Books or what?”

You nod.

“What kind?”

You hesitate.

“Can I guess?”

“Go for it.”

He thinks for a second, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he does, which makes you flush. 

“Are they scary?”

“Parts of them are scary,” you admit. 

You remembered researching for SC and finding out that a lot of people only have a little over one gallon of blood in their bodies. You felt lightheaded and queasy at the visual of a plastic gallon bottle full of blood.

“But they ain’t all scary, huh?”

“Nope.”

He eyes you and smirks.

“Are they dirty?”

You hesitate and suck in air through clenched teeth.

“Yeah. They’re pretty dirty.”

“You must make good money, huh?”

He chuckles and you shrug.

“I do alright.”

“Yeah, I bet you do. Where’re you stayin’?”

You pause and he holds up his hands.

“That probably sounded creepy. I only meant… there’s some nice places, and there’s a Holiday Inn.”

“Well, it’s not the Holiday Inn.”

He looks at the watch on his hand.

“Shit. Well, I gotta get goin’.”

He says your name and your chest fills up with a weird feeling. Half-elation, half-dread.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah. You too. I’ll see you around,” you respond.

“Only if you keep walkin’ at night. Boats don’t need a lighthouse in the daytime,” he explains quickly, jogging off toward the beacon.

Hot lighthouse worker who’s charming and funny. Now that could work.

You go home and open the fridge. Time for boxed wine in a mug as you power-write for the next forty-five minutes until your hands cramp up.

You put the notebook down and pull out your favorite pen. You need certainty when you put book ideas down. You write in quick, messy bullet points, only getting down little ideas. You heard that coastal New England towns are famous for gruesome murder. Your instincts take you to the mafia but one glance at your water bottle has you thinking otherwise. SC was such a success, and you’re the vampire girl now. 

So you begin to pen the vague outline of a dark romance with a steamy, stalkery vampire lighthouse worker. A man in thick knit sweaters with a messy beard– that could get messier covered in blood or buried between a writer’s thighs–

You pause and see you’ve written writer on the page. You cringe and scribble that out. You had your humble beginnings with composition notebook self-insert fanfiction as a tween, but you’re a big girl now. And you’re already writing prose over a guy you just met, you really don’t need to make it any weirder. Your mind goes through some humble, wholesome occupations to compliment a love interest like that. Baker? Too cliche. Schoolteacher? Too male gaze. Big city corporate lawyer? Too Hallmark movie.

You tap back of the pen against the page rhythmically and sit up. Investigative journalist. Still technically a writer, but the only things you investigate are late-night Twitter links on a private spam account not even your best friends know about. 

Your pen dashes across the page, scrawling wildly. There’s not even any music playing, just the not-so-distant sound of the ocean, the radiator, and your own hand brushing against the paper. Soon, you’ve filled five pages without realising and that doubles in a blink. Shit! Your hand cramps up and you lift the pen finally, massaging your other thumb into your palm. It’s time for bed now, as three hours have passed and your back is killing you. 

You ascend the stairs again and just go to sleep, hand and wrist sore and content with your productivity.

You wake up surprisingly early the next day, and decide to go into town to get some groceries. Your fridge is looking sparse and the pantries are basically empty. You buy some frozen stuff and some supplies to make coffee. You see the honey is placed on the highest shelf you’ve ever seen and huff. No workers around. You can probably get it on your tiptoes. You strain to reach it and hear a man’s voice.

“Can I help you with that?”

You almost fall dropping to your feet again, and a shooting pain goes up from your heels.

“Ow, shit.”

“I’m sorry.”

It’s a man in a lifeguard’s hoodie with red swim trunks on. Maybe you hit your head and you’re having some sort of insane Baywatch fantasy.

“Yes. Please.”

“Yeah, I honestly don’t know who puts this stuff up there. The lady who owns this place is like, four-eleven.” You laugh at that as he hands you the honey.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. I’m Chris, by the way.”

You give him your name and shake his hand. Fucking hell this guy is strong. 

“Are you visiting?”

“Yeah. For a few months though. I’m working on a book.”

“You write horror?”

“Sorry?”

“Um, Stephen King’s from Maine. I feel like horror writers are always trying to… come out here and get some of that inspiration.”

“I think the inspiration he had was-”

“Cocaine?” he says at the same time as you. He shrugs. “At least you can recognise that. Half the other writers are ready to climb into the sewer.”

“Shit, well there goes my day at the rock quarry,” you joke. 

He laughs at that and you grin. 

“I’m a lifeguard on the beach for the next six hours, if you um… feel like you need some fresh air. Sunlight isn’t really a November specialty.”

“Are people really swimming this time of year?”

“Oh, they are. But so are the great whites, so, I’m mostly on seal watch.”

“Right.”

“I’m in tower Four,” he tells you eagerly. It’s like the words just jump right out of his mouth. “It’s right by the lighthouse. Nobody swims there, so… if you wanna tell me about your book or something… my job is pretty boring.”

“I’ll see you out there, Chris.”

“See you.”

You check out and ride the bike the homeowner left for guests back to the cottage. You feel insane. Maybe you were hospitalized after that breakdown and this is all some elaborate, drugged-up daydream you’re in. You pull out your notebook after the groceries are put away and flip to a new page. You click your pen and write HOT LIFEGUARD at the top of the page. 

A love triangle sounds awesome.

Later on, after you actually manage to type some words on a new, more permanent outline document, your vision drifts out the window. It is actually kind of a nice day, even though it’s overcast and windy. You stand and squeeze your hands together, stretching out. It is time for another brisk walk, this time to Tower Four.

Chris sits up there, slumped in his chair and holding his rescue tube in his lap. His tanned, toned legs are wide as he sits back.

“Would it scare you really bad if I started yelling ‘help’?” you joke, peering up at him from the ground.

He chirps your name, sitting up and sliding his sunglasses on top of his head, pushing back his hair. 

“You made it.”

“I brought you a snack,” you say, handing up the small bag of chocolates.

“Wicked,” he says, taking it from your hand. He swings down like a monkey and sits with his feet dangling off the side of the tower. You share the candies and look out on the water.

“So, you gonna tell me about your book?”

“Yeah, I’m not a horror writer.”

“What do you write?”

You hesitate. You know this song and dance, the divulgence of your career and the weird stares and uncomfortable shifting that follows. It’s ruined all sorts of dates and first impressions. Fuck it. You’re on sabbatical.

“Um… dirty romance books.”

“No shit? Is it like that crazy mafia stuff online?”

“Yeah, it’s exactly that.”

“Killer. You make a lot of money?”

“Enough to stay here and not work for three months.”

“So… you’re not writing a book?”

You shake your head.

“My creative well is completely dry. I came out here for-”

“Don’t even say it.”

“-some inspiration.”

“You are such a liar,” he teases. “You’re just like all those Stephen King wannabes,” he jokes, turning away from you.

You laugh at his silliness. You remain for a while, chatting about life and the town.

“The city is wild. I’m getting used to the silence, I think,” you tell him, having moved to– illegally– sit on the tower with him.

“Is the crime really so crazy out there?”

“Yeah, I mean… most of that is just there’s so many people crammed into such a small place. People go nuts.”

“Damn.”

“No crime here?”

“Not here, no, but um… about twenty miles north there’s this beach town, it’s a complete tourist getaway, but they got rocked by some shark attacks a few years back.”

“Some shark attacks?” you repeat his casual wording, shocked.

“Sorry. That sounded insensitive, it was really scary. That place is on its last legs now.”

“Well, yeah. Who wants to stay at the Jaws resort?”

“Bull shark, probably. The same thing happened in nineteen-sixteen. It was pretty gruesome.”

“Are you fucking with me?” you question him seriously, eyes squinted.

“I’m being serious, look it up.”

“Huh. Shit.” You sit back, eyes wandering to the lighthouse.

“Have you ever met the person who works up there?”

“Yeah, he’s fucking creepy.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“You met him?”

“Mhm. Last night.”

“Remmick? The lighthouse guy? You met him?”

“Yeah…? He was jogging.”

“Fucking weirdo,” Chris mutters. “He’s a complete shut-in.”

“How long has he been here?”

“Couple years? I don’t really know when he got here, he just… was there one day.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah, well. We used to have a night lifeguard, and– listen, I can admit having a girl out here on her own was pretty stupid– not that girls are… incapable or something-”

“I get it.”

“Right. And… full disclaimer, this girl really liked shrooms, but she swears up and down that she saw that guy covered in blood and eating a seal.”

“Whoa.”

“I mean, there was a dead seal on the beach, she was right about that.”

“Great white?”

“Oh, for sure. I’m think he was probably just doing that creepy-ass night jogging by the tower when that seal washed up, and… sometimes the sharks don’t fully kill the things-”

You grimace.

“I know, it’s pretty sad. Anyway, probably it was yowling and her fucking shroomed out brain conjured up that pretty picture. But he’s just a weird guy. He’s totally nocturnal. I’ve never seen the guy in the daytime. I’ve probably seen him six times and talked to him like… two, maybe?”

“Jeez.”

“Yeah. Anyways, sorry. That was a lot. I’d just stay away from the guy if you can. I don’t know what his deal is.”

You swiftly change the subject to movies and TV, which is good, because you two seem to share the same interests. Strangely enough, vampires are among them.

“I have sisters, so, I’ve seen Twilight about a hundred times? Maybe more?”

You laugh at that. You see him grinning and you check phone, seeing that two hours have passed.

“Shit. I have got to get back.”

“Right.”

“Thanks for the company. And the advice,” you add, nodding to the lighthouse.

“Um… would you want to grab a drink, tomorrow?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure. Um… where?”

“It’s called The Weasel. It’s definitely a townie bar, but… the drinks are cheap.”

You are fiending for an espresso martini, and you fear you’ll have to settle for an old reliable at a dive bar. 

“Alright.”

“Cool. Um… eight o’clock sound good?”

“Eight o’clock sounds great.”

“Awesome. See you there.”

“I will see you there.”

Your back hits a tree as you pant, unable to run anymore. Your lungs burn as you gasp for cold night air in a dark, damp forest. You’re barefoot, in a wet nightgown that sticks to your skin and you’re terrified. 

You tremble, feeling the looming presence of something evil and ancient, rising up in front of you. Met with words in a language you don’t understand, a clawed hand grips your jaw. They’re wet and sticky, hot with something you realise is blood. The creature laughs at you cruelly and on the other hand grabs a handful of your nightgown, claws ripping through the fabric as it tears a strip down the center. The hand cups between your legs. It splits your lips carefully– almost reverently– brushing a knuckle between your folds, claws away from your most sensitive skin. You gasp and shiver, hands against the tree. You’re wet, though. Soaking the creature’s hands as it coats your skin in blood. It’s so dark and your vision is blurry with tears, you only see two red spots staring at you, and the glint of pearly fangs as the jaw of the creature opens and lurches forward.

You shoot up and sigh, panting as you try to catch your breath. You’ve been plagued with these “psychosexual night terrors”, as your therapist calls them, since you finished writing SC. Some weeks they’re sparse and other ones you can’t sleep without waking up sticky and horrified. Your cortisol levels are through the roof and your sex drive is in the stratosphere. The running theory is that your frantic writing for the deadline of SC drove you just a little bit crazy, and your panic and arousal from writing about Milo’s sexy antics while your publishing house breathed down your neck combined and manifested as the scary void creature in your nightmares.

You take a cold shower that morphs into an everything shower when you remember your date with Chris. Not a date. Just grabbing a drink. Could be a date.

You feel like a kid again, having a cute summer fling with a boy at sleepaway camp with the distant bitter sweetness of knowing you’ll leave in three months. Except you are an adult woman and if you do fall in love, you could just move here forever. 

But that’s wishful thinking.

You wait at the bar patiently. You’re a punctual girl, your agent adores that about you, so you are a little early. You chat with the bartender. She’s an older woman with a thick Mainer accent. 

“Let me guess-”

“Not a horror writer,” you joke back. 

She laughs at that. Her laugh is creaky but comforting, and you can tell she’s a smoker.

“You look nervous.”

“I’m meeting somebody?”

“Yeah?”

“I won’t say who, because I’m guessing you know everyone.”

“Well, I also know who’s single and who isn’t. If you’re worried he’s married, just give me a name.”

The bar is quiet, some men play pool and a group of vacationing dads drink beers and watch some sports on an outdated television. 

You order another drink as you watch the clock behind the bar tick on.

By eight thirty, you’re sufficiently buzzed. You didn’t even get his phone number to text him.

By nine, you decide you should go home. You thank the bartender and leave her a generous tip. You’ll be too embarrassed to come in here for a while.

You take the bike home, slumping on the sofa in the living room as you kick off your heels. You feel tears pricking at your eyes and rub them away, not caring about your smudged eyeshadow or makeup. You wipe it off in the bathroom and change out of your clothes. You need another walk. Maybe you’ll run into the allegedly very creepy lighthouse man and you’ll get some inspiration. 

“I’ll show you Stephen King wannabe, dickhead,” you mutter to yourself, pulling on your coat and shoving your notebook in your pocket. 

You follow the familiar motions, down the path, out through the alcove, and down the beach. You have some angry music playing this time as you stomp down the beach and pass the lifeguard towers. Shrooms girl better thank her lucky stars she’s off night shift, because you look pissed off right now. You stalk all the way down to tower four and roll your eyes. This is a tantrum. You’re an adult.

“I thought I might see you again,” a voice calls. Remmick is on a ledge above you, leaning on the wooden railing. 

“Can I come up there?”

“I’m not gon’ tell you what to do, sweetheart.”

You try to ignore the fire that lights in you and climb the sand and rock stairs, joining him on the ledge. He sits on a bench and pats the seat next to him.

“I heard a lot about you today, from a couple locals,” you tell him, lying about it.

You get the feeling Chris was being insecure, or maybe Remmick’s stolen one too many girls from him. 

“Yeah, I’m a seal-eating nightwalker, you got me,” he jokes, his hands up in mock surrender.

You exhale through your nose. You wish you could laugh harder.

“I’m just a solitary kinda fella. People here, shit, they tight knit like fishin’ nets. They think everybody’s gotta know everybody’s business. Nobody knows mine, so they’ve been makin’ things up for the past three years.” 

“Sorry I brought it up.”

“Hey, I’d rather you hear it from me.”

He looks at you for a moment and rubs a hand over his knee.

“You look upset.”

“Yeah. I uh…”

You hesitate, and see him lean forward, actively listening.

“It’s stupid.”

He holds his hand out, gesturing for you to speak.

“I got stood up,” you admit.

“For a date?”

“Not exactly. Just drinks.”

He clicks his tongue.

“That’s no good. Must be a pretty dumb guy, to stand you up.”

“Yeah. That was a dickhead move. I’m just hoping it was more of a… ‘oh shit, I totally forgot’ kind of thing.”

He eyes you and you cross your legs.

“Still. You musta gotten all dolled up for it.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Well, I uh… I’m not so much a bar kind of fella, but if you wanna come out here sometimes all dolled up…” he leans in, “I got some good whiskey and two glasses.”

You lean in too, close to him.

“I might take you up on that, Remmick.”

“I gotta get up there,” he murmurs, looking at your lips as he speaks.

“Right.”

He doesn’t move, locked in place for a moment. He seems to shake off the spell and sits back, scrubbing a hand down his face, wiping his mouth. It almost looks like he’s wiping away drool. He stands up.

“You uh, you alright to walk home on your own?”

Words flash in your mind, the scene from SC where Milo promises to stalk Annmarie home, which results in him watching through the window as she touches herself. You’re drunk, you realise, as the neurons in your brain flicker out and blood rushes down your body.

“Yeah, I should be fine.”

“Right.”

He starts to walk away and turns back.

“I mean it. You come up see me sometime.”

“I will.”

You mean that, too.

Remmick thumbs through your notebook. How can you even understand this stuff? Your messy handwriting is charming. He reads through descriptions of vampire lore and fangs and turning that make him chuckle. He thinks of the smell of you, that hot scent of desire and the buzzing of your intoxicated body as you sat together. He’s so fucking cold in Maine, and he hasn’t been touched in years. He imagines you’d be hot to the touch. He knows you’re frustrated, you’ve been dissatisfied with pleasuring yourself. The descriptions of sex scenes have him biting back groans and palming himself through his pants. 

He flips to the final page.

HOT LIFEGUARD

His eyes narrow as he realises who it was that stood you up. He turns the page back over, scanning through your previous writing. 

LIGHTHOUSE VAMPIRE LOVER. CLAIMS TO KILL FOR HER. STALKERY? MILO PART II. LESS TENDER. MORE EVIL.

Oh, you’re fucking crazy. 

He grins, his fangs sliding down.

He can make do with crazy.

You wake up early, painful early. You dress groggily and decide to get some air on the beach before the dickhead lifeguard starts his shift. You’re slightly hungover as you traverse down the path and through the alcove to walk on the beach. 

The light is pale and you have to watch your step for kelp as you walk down. You see something up on the sand, and your heart sinks.

It has to be a seal. It’s not breathing, so you look at the nearest lifeguard tower for the animal control. You dial the number and wait patiently.

“Hello?” a voice that sounds just as groggy as you feel answers.

“Hi, I’m um, I’m on the beach right now and I think there’s a dead seal by the first lifeguard tower.”

“Oh, hell. Sorry, miss. It’s too damn early. Do you see any marks on it?”

“It’s hard to see with the fog. Is it safe to get closer?”

“Seals aren’t half as aggressive as sea lions, miss, so go ahead.”

You step closer, squinting with the fog. It’s absolutely dead, not moving at all. You approach it cautiously, worried about what other creatures might be lurking around.

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach.

This is not a seal.

This is Chris the lifeguard, and he’s missing an arm.

[apple-pie-1]

self-aware cookie run kingdom fanfiction AU WIP

So I'm going to write a self-aware fanfiction AU, where the cookies can hear you and see you when you log into the game, they have learned to care for you ever since they became aware, how did they become aware? Nobody really knows, but you suspect that when your phone almost got fried because you left it in charge during a blackout caused by a storm might have been it... But regardless, you don't know that they are self-aware now because they hide it from you, thinking that you might freak out if you find out that they were all sentient beings. The ancients and beasts have taken a particular liking to you, all cookies do, really. They love how you, oh so softly, speak to them even if they repeat their few coded liens over and over again. Oh, the absolute joy cookies like Hollyberry cookie get when you start getting giddy and coo at them because they address you directly in their coded voice lines make them just want to hug you! Not to mention that you are very talkative with them, you like talking with them and tell them about your day and all even if you don't know that they are aware. So the main idea is for the storyline to be pretty lighthearted in some parts and a bit more dark in some others, the reader slowly discovers that the cookies are indeed self-aware and not only that, but they absolutely adore you! Shadow milk what's to reach you in your word so he can finally meet their beloved ruler in person!! Also, you're basically the parental figure for Gingerbrave and company, you know? Since you follow them in every adventure thought thick and thin, you became their guardian angel.

Btw I still have to figure thighs out for this fanfiction, but I have figure to post some WIP along the way, I think I'm going to post it here on Tumblr alongside some of my art, so stay tuned

Also, I think the cookies wouldn't see you as a deity but more like a kind-hearted soul who is the #1 ruler and mayor of this kingdom doing your absolute best to take care of all of your kingdom, the cookies know you have a life outside being their monarch and mayor, and they appreciate the fact that you still take some time out of your day to tend to their needs and assure that the land is prosperous.

The original concept:

[chaotic-ppeach]

I like to yap so i want to give a little breakdown of those last paintings!

I was inspired by Alphonse Mucha and his structured yet ethereal watercolor style. Everything flows together, and it reminds me a bit of stained glass. He still paints in textures while being exceedingly neat. Anyways… I morphed this with my sketchy/oil paint inspired digital style and this is what happened. (If you are unfamiliar with. Alphonse Mucha PLEASE look him up)

Side note: my art is MEANT to be zoomed in on. I leave little scratches and details not visible from standing back/without clicking on the image. Imperfections are welcome in my art as well as extraneous detail. Placement of details, textures, warmth and lighting is intentional to draw your eye to the main focus. I love adding Easter eggs to those who look closely and I plan to get even better at this! Alright.

Let’s start w/ Lev

1. The sky bridge used by Abby and Lev to get supplies for Yara. For me this is the first time Abby and Lev really let each other in, decide to trust and start bonding. Lev trusts Abby to keep him safe, not to betray him to WLF, and is relying on her to retrieve the supplies to save his sisters life. He’s putting his own life, anf more importantly Yara’s, in her hands. He is encouraging, kind and patient with Big Bad Abby’s fear of heights, and even tries to ask personal questions to distract her and get to know her more.

2. One of the most traumatic things to happen to a child, in any media I’ve ingested ever. Exile, injury, going back to a broken home only to lost his mother by his own hand, quickly followed by his sister who was killed in a matter of seconds with no time to grieve or process any of this. He does not allow himself to be paralyzed, Abby is there to help him keep pushing and and keep fighting. Honestly day 3 Abby is one of my favorite parts.

3. The boat, at the end in Santa Barbara. Even when Abby is on death’s door, weak, starved, beaten, you name it. She’ll give her life to protect her boy, here when he’s most vulnerable. She doesn’t want to fight, she’s done with the cycle of revenge and violence. But for him, her mind and her body screaming to give up and to leave, she’ll fight for him. Even if it costs her her life.

4. The aquarium, a shark, and Yara. I know this didn’t happen in the game but I wanted to add it. Lev isn’t Lev without Yara. So many critical events for Abby, Lev, and Ellie happed in the aquarium so it only felt right to have it there. And a shark because his love of sharks is too cute. Plus I needed a sea creature so it would read visually as an aquarium and fish were too small.

5. The wave frame is honestly more an aesthetic choice, but Lev is scared of the sea and there’s a lot of water in the game. Another point he crossed the sea HIMSELF to retrieve his mom. He must have been terrified. And for it to end the way it did… oof.

6. I changed his expression from the reference photo. In the reference he’s very doe-eyed, unsure, almost fearful. I wanted to show just how strong he is when it mattered most. He’s not letting anything stop him for fighting for those he loves, even if they don’t want his help.

1. The coins she collects throughout the game. Virginia, California, New Mexico, Illinois, and I’ve quite forgotten the last one. There’s a moose on it. Intentionally i did not make the designs clear or render the metal more. Coins are extremely detailed, the frame is not. It would look weird. Plus there’s no reason, the focus is her face and I don’t want the viewer’s eye being made to compete on where to focus. Abby isn’t Abby without her dad, I couldn’t not include a piece of him in the artwork. It’s a way for her to stay connected to him in a way other than the virus, the fireflies, or revenge. A collecting hobby that’s simply for the pleasure of it, a break from her regularly tightly disciplined lifestyle.

2. Firefly Emblem. Not rocket science, growing up a firefly had an impact on her. It’s a big part of who she is. Seeking growth, seeking to do better day by day. To help and be kind. I make the emblems glow for aesthetic reason but also, “Look for the light” kept coming to mine when trying to figure our what color they should be.

3. The Harbor Seal. Again, a nod to the aquarium, but also to Owen. I believe she deeply and truly loved him. Fight me. Plus i believe part of the reason she becam e so melancholy when the seal appeared was because of her dad. He seemed to enjoy animals, and perhaps it brought back memories and the pain of losing him all over again. She wants to be there, to be present with Owen but this overwhelming grief with nowhere to go is drowning her. She uses training and patrols to release some of this pressure. She asks Owen to come with her not because she doesn’t care and is blowing him off, but because she wants the one she loves to be with her as she’s processing this grief and anger. I don’t think either of them could see this at the time, perhaps Owen a bit.

4. A wolf. Obviously, WLF, and her nickname from Yara/Lev “Wolf”. More importantly wolves are pack animals. One thing that strikes me between Ellie and Abby is the complete opposite experience they’ve had with community. Ellie grew up under military rule. Extremely strict and single minded. No room for self expression or exploration, no support for her own individuality. Leaving her community was a freeing thing. Her brushes with other groups in her travels with Joel only showed her how cruel and insane people can be. Even in Jackson, she i troubled. She has to hide both who and what she is, and because of this seems the loner type and struggles to find a sense of community outside of her immediate ‘family’. And then with Dina, Jesse and Tommy… Dina is a stead support, then a liability, then a weakness for Ellie. She eventually loses her to her own grief. Jesse was her good friend, and in trying to save Ellie ends up dying very suddenly and tragically. Tommy, the only one on earth that could understand her grief and she could sympathize with. He ends up losing himself to grief and taking this out on Ellie, causing a rift between them. She ends up alone. Community is riddled with trauma and discomfort.

Abby on the other hand. Grew up with lots of support, openness, and guidance from her father and the fireflies. She was allowed to unapologetically be herself. Losing her community (the hospital) was the single most traumatic event that happened to her. Her world crumbled. She then clings to what she has left, searches and finds herself in another community (WLF) that allows her to be herself. Left and right as she walks through WLF territory she is warmly, fondly greeted by multiple multiple people. It is apparent is is loved and respected by many. A community is where she thrives, where she belongs. After being excluded from the WLF, she clings the the next thing she can help. Lev and Yara. She takes them in as she would appreciate herself. When they voice discomfort of her mocking their culture she changes her ways. She can respect a community and what it means to people. Even at the end of the game, she’s risking life and limb for her last remaining bit of community, her boy. Wolf, is very fitting.

5. The Infection. Honestly I just needed to include it somehow. But really is is a big part of her. Her whole childhood I bet she listened to her father rant about the infection and his research. She’s spent her whole life running from or killing infected. After Salt Lake, I could only imagine every infected, especially friends, she kills she’d think “If only we had a cure…” Her hatred for Joel growing…

6. I also changed her expression slightly. Because these are sister paintings I wanted it to look like Abby could maybe be looking directly at Lev. In the reference she was looking up.

Okay that’s all….

[writing-for-life]

The Weight of Goodbye

Dream’s SoM-meetings with Hob Gadling, Lyta & Daniel Hall and his subjects

Sorry not sorry for using this one again, because I’m Jon J Muth’s no. 1 fan, plus it helps me to get over Kelley Jones’ art which I find… challenging 🤣

I’ve been thinking about The Sandman #22 for our reread, and while there are many gut-wrenching issues, this is one of the most quietly devastating ones. It’s a bit like Dream writing his will while pretending he’s just going on a business trip (and of course we get something similar again later on in The Kindly Ones 🥺)

The Speech to His Subjects

Dream addresses the denizens of The Dreaming before departing for Hell. He frames it a bit as instructions for his absence (and sounds super awkward when admitting he made mistakes—it’s honestly like car crash TV), but the emotional undertones suggest something far more permanent:

He tells them about how to maintain the realm if certain situations arise (like him not coming back, either because he dies or because he gets captured) and presents it like contingency planning (for lack of better term). But the truth of the matter is that he’s putting his affairs in order. The formality of it, the careful way he addresses potential concerns: This isn’t just someone covering all bases, this is a ruler preparing his kingdom for the real possibility that he won’t return. And it’s the first time we get told, in no uncertain terms, that if he gets destroyed (his choice of words, not mine), another aspect of Dream will take over.

[Also: Is it just me who thinks that Kelley Jones draws him at his most beautiful when he’s vulnerable? Because some of his other artistic choices are… well, definitely choices 🙈🤣]

What truly gets me is the narrative use of Matthew. He’s concerned, but he doesn’t grasp the hint of finality in Dream’s tone. And at this stage, the reader may not either (we need to remember that we didn’t have the type of hindsight we have now back when the comics first came out; we didn’t know how the whole run would end). So Matthew is, once again, a stand-in for us, the reader (that always makes me think of The Wake, and even after decades, I’m still not over Matthew's speech and his grief). It doesn't help that we’re starting to see their growing bond, and the cracks in Dream’s armour he hid only a minute ago when everyone else was still there:

“I wanted to stick around. Do you mind?” “No.” 😩

The Meeting with Lyta and Daniel

Dream’s visit to Lyta Hall and baby Daniel often gets brushed to the side a bit, and without the knowledge of what’s going to happen, I get it.

But of course we do know what has already happened in The Doll’s House. Even there, it was painfully obvious that Dream, at least on some level, had plans for Daniel. So yeah, this is not a social call; he’s checking in on his replacement (for lack of better term). They have a bond because Daniel was conceived (show)/gestated (comics) in the Dreaming. It’s not Morpheus who gives Daniel his name—it’s most likely Daniel who told him his name.

Lyta’s discomfort throughout the scene isn’t just about supernatural entities dropping by unannounced, or about her deep-seated hatred of Dream because she considers him responsible for Hector’s death. She knows, on an intuitive level, that he is marking Daniel in some way because he already told her back in The Doll’s House that he’ll one day come for the child. At the same time, he’s acknowledging here that this might be the last time he sees the child for a very long time, and that he means Lyta no harm (“today” 🙄). And maybe that’s the only explanation for this:

Because I don’t know about you: If a strange guy whom I deem responsible for my husband’s death tells me the “true” name of my yet unnamed child, I'd certainly not consider that name and smile about it happily…

Hob Gadling and the Toast

Dream appears to Hob in a dream, and that’s a deeply significant choice. He could have met him in the waking world just like Lyta, but instead, he chooses to visit Hob in his own domain, where he has absolute power. But he doesn’t really use that power here, other than for getting in contact in the first place. He rather reveals something that could almost be considered vulnerability:

That’s the same Dream who stormed off in a huff in 1889 because Hob dared to suggest they were friends. The same Dream who tentatively acknowledged that friendship in 1989. The same Dream who now decides to say goodbye to the one person he actually considers a friend. For someone whose entire existence is built on pride and hierarchy, this shows character growth. But it also shows how desperately alone he really is, and that he doesn't want to be a burden to anyone (and that's compounded to the umpteenth degree when they meet the next time 😔).

But there’s subtext here that’s even more heartbreaking: Dream is settling his accounts. He’s making sure that if he doesn’t return from Hell, Hob won’t spend the next century wondering where Dream is, or if their friendship was real. By choosing to appear in Hob’s dreams, he’s giving him something lasting: a memory. And many of us know that this will be one of the cornerstones of Sunday Mourning.

The tragedy is that Hob doesn’t even truly realise this is a goodbye, and he hopes he’ll be back “eventually”. He's happy to have seen his friend, even if it was "just a silly dream"...

Patterns...

When you read these three sequences together, you can't help but see that Dream is systematically saying goodbye to the, at least at this point, three most important cornerstones of his existence: his successor (Daniel), his one true friendship (Hob), and his realm.

This isn’t the behaviour of someone who expects to return unchanged from his mission. This is someone who understands that going to Hell to demand the release of an ex-lover he condemned 10,000 years ago is likely to have consequences he may not survive.

Which brings us to the most important question of this issue:

Does Dream already know he will die?

I don’t think he knows, at this point, specifically how or when. But I think he does understand that his existence is reaching some kind of conclusion. The family intervention, the guilt over what he has done to Nada which makes him return to Hell: They’re really only the culmination of ten billion years of accumulated mistakes and regrets, and it’s only going to get worse from here.

The paradox is that Dream is finally ready to change, but change is antithetical to how he perceives himself. So perhaps, on some level, he understands that real change might require becoming someone else entirely. And that is something I think he does know at this point.

What makes issue #22 so powerful is how it recontextualises everything that comes after. When he eventually faces his final choice in The Kindly Ones, we can look back and see that he was already preparing himself here (and if you know me, you will also know that I staunchly insist he already made an, albeit subconscious, choice in #8). Maybe it’s a masterclass in dramatic irony: Dream thinks he’s being practical with making his contingency plans. But we can see him subconsciously preparing for an ending he hasn’t yet acknowledged to himself. But he also has...

Kelley Jones’ Art

I just briefly want to brush (no pun intended) on how Kelley Jones’s art reinforces these themes. His Dream is somehow always in shadow, even if it’s just his face. There’s a weight to him in every panel, a sense of someone carrying an enormous burden. I am generally not a fan of Jones' art (sorry), and I find his constantly changing Dream difficult to get used to (but I guess that's the point, and I totally get it on a conceptual level). But one thing stands out to me: The way he draws Dream against various backgrounds (Lyta’s apartment, the dreamscape with Hob, the throne room) consistently makes him seem isolated, separate, already partially absent. Even when he’s surrounded by other people/beings. But maybe I'm just reading too much into it…

Anyway, to put it all in a nutshell: The real tragedy, but also the deeper meaning of The Sandman, is that Dream tries to make amends for a lifetime of mistakes, only to discover that some changes require transformation so complete that the self doesn’t survive the process. But in metaphorical terms, the death of the ego is also a beautiful and necessary thing…

[goatlilly]

May I ask, how do you come up with your designs? Because I'm SOOO bad at character design and I would really use some tips

Hey, sorry, I sort of answered the wrong ask when I first posted this. (My bad.)

For most of the designs I just took the character’s personalities, my knowledge of kid fashion/children in general, and their Akkuma designs and went from there—For example, Princess Ladybug is a mixture of her Puppeteer design, a ladybug dress that my five-year-old sister has, and the idea that she likes magical girls and just wants to be one. :)

Hope that helps.

*Edit

I realize I should probably talk about my process for the adult designs some, since those are a bit more complex. Let’s go one by one:

Lady Luck—Her design was probably harder than any of the others, because I had to balance a lot of different ideas—I wanted her to look mature, competent and inviting, while also incorporating some more Chinese elements into the design. In her case, I sort of started with one design and worked off of it until it reached a point where I was happy with it. Here’s each of those in order (top left to bottom right.)

Elements of each made it into the final design.

Matagot—This was a lot easier, since all I had to do was work off of his canon design for the most part. The trick was making him look more like an antihero than a villain, since his canon design is at the height of his corruption. Really, all I changed from the first version of the design was to have his hair showing. Made him a bit more inviting. Here’s some bonus concept art from back when I was feeling out his character:

Not gonna lie, I still kind of vibe with the hair covered version, but I had to go with what felt right. If you want to see my first posted design for him, click here.

Vixen—So she was actually one I knew almost immediately what I wanted for. She only took a couple passes before I was happy with her. Basically I knew I wanted her to look like a mature version of Alya, with a sort of professional look mixed with a playful nature. Once I had the first sketches done, it was just a matter of streamlining the design.

Queen Bee—Audrey was easy—She just kinda came into existence pretty much perfect the first time. I just thought Chloe but older, and there she was. A couple tweaks to her original design and she was ready to go.

Venadrone—Easiest design by far. I don’t think I even changed anything from my first pass. I was just thinking I needed him to look a little like a bumbling fool while also trying to imitate Queen Bee’s charisma and commanding personality. Like a peon, basically. So yeah.

Bombshell—Here’s where I got stuck. I knew what vibes I wanted, (Reckless and Iconic, like a big name streamer but if they were a superhero,) but I was having trouble translating that into an actual character design. The first rendition was passable, but it wasn’t really giving enough sass for me, and it felt way to tame for a hero named Bombshell.

So I had to sleep on it for a while. Then I finally figured out what vibes I was going for—Deadpool vibes. That made everything so much easier. I just referenced a bunch of images of Deadpool and Deathstroke, then Incorporated it into a new design. It took a couple passes for me to get it right still, but the end result landed close enough to what I wanted that I was ready to post it.

That last one was almost the final design, but the chest part was too thin and looked too much like a snake, so I redid it one last time.

Violeon—Not as hard as I expected him to be. Honestly, his design came pretty naturally to me. (It helped that I had previously worked on a Chat Noir/Butterfly fusion design as a concept.) really I just took Gabriel’s design, made it more childish and… Adrienish I guess? And I had what I wanted more or less.

Anyways, the final result is good.

Foulette—this one took a bit longer, not because the concept was hard to come up with (Once I thought Swan Lake tragic heroine the design for that pretty much made itself,) but because I was struggling to balance the colors. Color balancing is easier in some ways with traditional art than digital art thanks to having a more unified and limited pallet to work with, but that doesn’t mean color placement is easy. In particular I wasn’t sure if I wanted her to be lighter or darker. So yeah. Anyways, here’s how that went.

Eventually my design landed closest to the last image. I tried giving that version light blue gloves at one point, but in the end I decided dark was the way to go.

Gorgana—She was pretty darn easy once I had enough references to work off of—it was just a matter of compiling a bunch of the right ones—snake fangs, that one KDA rapper girl’s light up mask (can’t remember her name, but it was from their first music video “Popstars,”) and couple of killer gorgon ladies and a whole bunch of rocker fashion from before I was alive. After that the rest was just simplifying all that into a super-suit, and there she was. :)

So… yeah. Hopefully that’s more helpful than with the Minnie’s. For most of them it really was as simple as my first instinct mixed with messing around. Those guys are so much easier to draw.

[zeondraws]

Always gotta keep a stash of references for a character-

My Heatwave one is way too chaotic tho

After friends introduced me to pureref, I could not draw something without having enough ref pics for it. One picture is never enough for me, I want to understand it-

Also it is always fun to see how I improve drawing something specific. Seeing first sketch vs a very recent sketch. Enjoy some of my ugly works.

Look this is how I drew RBA Blades for the first time (My urge to turn anything into a bird is always very big)

I keep the first sketches away from eyes because I find it so cringe, but I gotta document my progress. In comparison to this drawing below one can immediately see the difference. (Inbetween these two sketches I did a ton of sketchbook drawings of RBA Blades in different poses to memorise him clearly)

Also have some more sketches I find "too ugly"

This one even features the first sketch of Calamitas, I found it ugly so I just left it there and started a new drawing. It worked out tho.

Now I have another one I find ugly, because of the colour combo

This was more like me messing around and trying to understand colour a tad bit more. Like how mixing works.

I forgot if I ever shared this

There was another sketch on this page, but I didn't like the pose. I want to draw weird horror/fantasy stuff most of the time. But this dragon version didn't click with me. Like, how do I make him creepy

I think I am stuck with dragon Blades, but I think I need to look at more dragons or interesting animals. Maybe some insects or fishes. Or some rare mammal

Diva.

I was angry that day, he's holding Heatwave's head

I. Love. This. Stupid. Bird. LOOK AT HIM!!!!! MY SON

This one is also experimental. Whenever I have "WIPs" I don't think to myself "I have way too many" I simply discard or keep one or two wips to work on later. If a wip becomes too old, it's usually better to redraw the idea (if I wanna tinker with it some more)

Another test dragon

What was the idea here??? Why is Blades on his knees???

Enjoy my lovely cringe, I shall stay cringe because I find my cringe coooool. I will probably look back at this in half a year and feel so bewildered. We'll see how my art develops.

[daemads]

How could I forget my boy? Posting him too.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Finally caught up with Apothecary Diaries. I can't believe they gave Maomao a gun.

[sevastiel]

A Thousand Lifetimes

Drifter appreciation piece :3

[ricky-mortis]

He’s such a goofy silly guy!

[blazing-arsonist]

I don’t think I ever posted these here???? Eh here ya go

[employee052]

gonna try showing more oc stuff here since more ppl follow me here than anywhere else, so i hope yall dont mind seeing my boys :3 ppl on the tumblr community got to see this earlier. mostly bc idk whether to post this until now aksjhd

anywho, yasuo and harry time

[og base reference and wip sketch under the cut!]

[that-was-anticlimactic]

okay listen so yosano needs an extra hand when rearranging some stuff in her apt and asks kenji for help. while there, she finds a skirt that doesn't fit her anymore and asks kenji if he wants to see if it fits. it doesn't (she gives it to naomi), but it was kenji's first time wearing a skirt and he absolutely loves the way the skirt swishes and the spins! oh my god the SPIN!!!

so later in the week, he asks kunikida if they can go to the store to get him a skirt or a dress because he wants to feel the swish again. kunikida agrees, and kenji tries some stuff on, and then he finds a yellow, short-sleeved sundress that goes to his ankles. “kunikida-san! look how it swirls!" he says, then spins for kunikida.

kenji takes it off and is about to put it in the cart when he suddenly hesitates. it's not that he's embarrassed or anything, but would it be weird if he starts wearing typically feminine clothing? he doesn't to make anyone uncomfortable.

kunikida, ofc, says that no one will get upset, and if they do, he'll punch them. kenji laughs and thinks it's a joke but. no. he's serious. kenji then asks if kunikida will wear a skirt or a dress with him to work the next monday. he Really doesn't want to bc dazai is just going to laugh at him and make fun of him the whole time, but he says yes bc it's kenji and he doesn't want kenji to give up on something that makes him happy bc he's nervous about offending people!

so he lets kenji pick a skirt out for him. he ends up getting an ankle-length dark blue skirt that shimmers a bit in the sunlight or if he spins.

it isn't his favorite thing, but he gets why kenji likes the twirl (it is kind of fun).

then, work! kunikida walks in behind kenji (who runs into the office and yells for kyouka to show her the spin) and ranpo takes one look at kunikida and calls for dazai bc he "needs to see this".

and kunikida gets pissed bc great now dazai's going to make fun of him and he'll be miserable all day bc dazai will go all day. but dazai walks in, all casual and nonchalant, and he starts to make a joke but cuts himself off when he sees kunikida.

and suddenly he's having yet another romantic crisis. bc god does kunikida look good in blue and wow he really wants kunikida to twirl so he can see kunikida spin with the skirt flowing around him

and that's how kenji both discovered he likes gender non-conforming clothes and indirectly got kunikidazai together (and, if he could be slick about it, dazai would take a picture of kunikida to send to chuuya)

[hplonesomeart]

Hey!! So turns out a video I made between a certain “well beloved but highly sensitive/emotionally reactive T.V” and an “orange haired inkling-turned-human” has managed to sweep my YouTube channel and accumulate 100k VIEWS!! THAT’S A LOT OF PEOPLE ACTUALLY?? My most widely viewed video EVER to exist in this moment in time?? AAAAA?? Not even mentioning the various comments and staggering increase in subs! It’s so much more then what I expected or even prepared for—might even be the most impactful thing to happen for me this year <3

…aside from graduating high school + the social connections I’ve been fortunate to make lol

BUT THE POINT IS I’d been closely monitoring the YouTube growth through the entirety of October. It’s make me smile like a dork, gawk in astonishment, dance frantically in my room from the energy boosts, and grow courage to stop being so selective/self-conscious with what I wish to share with the world! It’s kept my ambitions going!

I needed to find some way to celebrate the occasion and express my thanks—because I can’t NOT acknowledge this milestone jksjskp. Typically I try to avoid getting tunnel visioned focusing on the metrics/numbers. Mr. Puzzles had already demonstrated how much those things can mess with the minds of creatives. Caring too much about chasing views or placing your artistic value in attention seeking gets damaging. But at same time…it’s hard to deny the sense of pride the 100k achievement has filled me with. I understand that reaching 100k views doesn’t immediately make me any “better” or “worse” then I was before. I’m still just me! It only helps me feel seen by others—and that’s all I really needed. To hear some nice words & receive reminders that my ideas are cared about. So thank you SMG4 fandom for that, seriously thank you.

Please accept this Mr. Puzzle drawing as a way of sharing the happiness around. He’s so entertaining. Love him for simply existing. So glad we can all collectively be super attached to him (and the rest of the SMG4 cast of course). Can’t wait to see more incredible artworks from the fandom :)

Just incase anyone is confused by my vague description over which “animated video” I’m referring to here—hopefully this photo will help clarify lol. It’s this one!! Sorry about not outright stating the title at the start, I got carried away with writing!!

I’ve been in an odd place mentally when thinking about it. Wondering to myself if any of the attention is deserved considering it’s not even fully colored and could be dismissed as “low effort” content (despite taking several days making it). It’s easy to get into a trap of comparing yourself to others and questioning how much of the videos success is based on your skills, sheer algorithm luck, or only because you used popular characters and catered to a specific fandom. And then judging yourself by looking at other peoples videos. I’ve seen several artists post higher quality works then my own but it somehow gets less views. So why did mine succeed when others (who should have gotten just as much attention if not more) didn’t? Sometimes you feel like you’ve unfairly robbed them of that chance to be seen. However I’ve realized that I can’t ever expect views to be consistent—and comparing is pointless. So why worry about it or feel inadequate? I mean it’s pretty common for funny cat videos to go viral, so who am I to question the system lol. “Popular” YouTube videos can range from a passion project which took 7+ artists…to a clip of Toad singing Chandelier or a nonsensical Vine sketch. Anything can happen when it’s the internet! And just-so-happened my video was chosen. I should stay glad about that and get rid of all the overanalyzing. So that’s what I’ve chosen to do :)