#maybe I’ll finish some of these doodles for when I feel like working on my neocities but website building is a whole beast in and of itself

[cuubism]

Computation

part 7 of Complex Mathematics

(aka Dream vs Technology -- Technology: 1, Dream: 0)

------------

Wednesday, 3:54am

Hob. what is the wifi password?

3:56am: why are you texting me when I’m in the same house?

3:57am: I did not want to wake you up.

4:00am: ……….

4:01am: Ah.

4:03am: it’s 12345. which is terrible security by the way

4:04am: how do i know this and you don’t? we’re in YOUR flat

4:05am: Computers are your friends, not mine.

4:10am: It does not like the password.

4:12am: alright i’m getting up

Dream creeps back into the living room, holding a cup of tea, as Hob’s tinkering with the router. Turns out it needed to be completely reset before he could reconnect it to Dream’s laptop. Not that this is that hard, but for some reason Hob doesn’t understand, technology is simply out of Dream’s grasp. Head in the clouds, too smart for basic computer skills, etc etc.

“A peace offering,” Dream says, placing the tea on the coffee table. He perches on the couch beside where Hob’s leaning over the router on its spot on the bookshelf.

“I’m not mad at you,” Hob says. He pats the router as its indicator lights finally turn green again. “I will take tea, though.”

“I woke you,” Dream says softly.

“You’ve woken me before, you will again,” Hob says with equanimity. Their sleep schedules are out of alignment, it tends to happen.

It’s the wrong thing to say, though. Dream cringes, hands folding in his lap. “I should be able to handle such things.”

“It’s just the wifi.” Hob finally finishes reconnecting Dream’s laptop and turns properly towards him. Dream still looks guilty about it. Sometimes Hob misses the time before they were dating, when Dream would bristle at him instead of caving. Just because he doesn’t like seeing Dream feel bad.

He takes the cup of tea and places it in Dream’s hands instead, briefly wrapping their hands around each other. “It’s okay,” he repeats. Possibly they should have a longer conversation about it, but Hob’s not emotionally awake enough for it.

Instead, he gets up and heads for the kitchen to put on some coffee. He needs something with more caffeine in it than tea.

“What are you doing?” Dream asks.

“Might as well get something done while my brain is online,” Hob says. He goes to fetch his own laptop from Dream’s bedroom. Lord knows it’ll need to get reconnected to the glitchy wifi again, anyway.

~~

Friday, 2:05pm

Hob.

2:06pm: ?

2:07pm: The wifi is angry again.

2:09pm: did you antagonize it?

2:09pm: hang on did you just wake up now?

2:10pm: I cannot comment.

2:12pm: I assume you have been hard at work in the library since six.

2:14pm: more like hardly working in the library. i did make an app that gives you a gold star every time you do the laundry

2:16pm: Will that assist in your routines?

2:17pm: probably not but it’ll be fun for 5 minutes

2:17pm: wifi password’s still 12345

2:18pm: maybe I should make an app for that instead…

2:20pm: I do not think it would help.

2:30pm: …You are not trying to make said app, are you?

2:34pm: nope just realized I’m late for a class and had to scramble out of there. I’ll be back later can do couples counseling for you and wifi then?

2:35pm: Very well.

For a while after putting down his phone, Dream stares at the wifi router in vexation, as if that will possibly make the angry red lights turn green again. He doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. He knows even less what to do to fix it.

He needs the wifi operational to keep generating these fractals. He supposes he could go to the library and use university wifi, but that requires going out in public, which is preferably avoided, at least while he’s trying to work. So he will have to do something else until Hob gets back from class.

He recalls what Hob had said. That instead of working on his dissertation he had made an entire phone app about laundry. He had said it so casually, like it was a doodle to pass the time. Dream can use apps—barely—but he cannot begin to fathom how he would go about making one. Hob does not understand how even in his procrastination he is exceptional.

Well. This is something that Dream can do. Hob hates doing laundry—hence the app-based reward system—but Dream doesn’t mind. He finds it meditative. He will have to be more precise about fabric care instructions now, as while his own clothes rarely range beyond grey, black, and dark blue, Hob actually wears colors which might bleed into each other.

He puts on his headphones with some music, gathers up the laundry from the bedroom, and goes about his routine.

When Hob gets back, Dream has finished hanging the laundry to dry and returned to his contemplation of the router, this time still with his headphones playing. He’s lost in thought, and doesn’t notice Hob’s come in until his hand lands on Dream’s shoulder. Normally a sudden touch when he’s thinking would make him jump, but he’s become used to Hob.

“Trying to solve your marital problems through telepathy?” Hob asks.

“We were never married,” Dream says. “Indeed we are enemies.”

Hob laughs. He kisses Dream on the cheek, then kneels in front of the router. “You have to stop tormenting my boyfriend,” he tells it. It only blinks back at him innocently.

Hob can be very silly at times. “I do not think arguing with the inanimate object will help,” Dream says.

“You never know.” Hob takes the router down and sets about unplugging all the cables. Dream still doesn’t know what any of them precisely do, nor how wifi works. It may as well be magic.  

Hob has it fixed within minutes, of course. Far more effective than Dream’s intense staring. He gets Dream’s laptop reconnected, and Dream is finally able to start generating his fractal. “Thank you,” he says.

“Anything for my love,” says Hob, getting to his feet again. “Guessing you want some time to yourself now to work on this?”

“Yes,” says Dream, with some guilt. Hob has come home to help him only for him to immediately bury himself in his work again. But yes, he does want to make progress on this at last.

“Well, good,” says Hob, and Dream turns to him in surprise. “Because I’m due for a nap.”

Dream still hasn’t formulated a response to this by the time Hob’s disappeared into his bedroom. Strange, that their routines can be so opposite and still meld together so well.

Hob pokes his head back out into the hall. “Did you do the laundry?”

“Yes,” says Dream.

“I could kiss you,” Hob declares, then blows one to him before disappearing back into the bedroom.

Dream presses his hand to his cheek, as if to touch a kiss that had really landed there. Smiles to himself. Then goes back to his fractal.

~~

Monday, 5:02pm

Hob.

5:03pm: Wifi?

5:04pm: …Yes.

Thursday, 9:50pm

…..Hob.

9:50pm: I’m sitting right next to you.

9:51pm: ….

9:51pm: I’m just gonna get you a new router. This thing’s got problems.

9:52pm: I think it is I who has the problems.

9:52pm: That too.

Saturday, 6:00pm

Hob.

6:00pm: Is it broken AGAIN??

6:01pm: No. I got dinner.

6:02pm: Oh!

6:02pm: Fuck I’m starving.

6:03pm: Coming back from class now.

6:03pm: Don’t touch the router it’s in a fragile mental state.

6:04pm: Aren’t we all.

~~

Thursday, 3:50pm

This time, it is the wifi in Hob’s flat that is stymieing Dream. He does not think it is broken. Hob has merely changed the password, as he’s much more diligent about internet security than Dream, and then forgotten to tell Dream what it is. Or, more likely, correctly assumed Dream would have to ask him again anyway.

He briefly contemplates trying to deduce the password, but it is likely an incomprehensible string of characters that Hob would claim is ideal security precisely because of the impossibility of deducing it.

He refuses to text Hob about it again. Hob has a class to teach soon—Dream has his schedule memorized—Dream does not want to distract him. Though speaking of…

3:50pm: You have a class in ten minutes.

3:51pm: FUCK

3:51pm: I got distracted

3:53pm: Now… running

3:54pm: You are not near the building, are you.

3:55pm: NOPE

Dream smiles to himself, thinking of Hob sprinting across campus. It happens often. Hob is good at many things, but time management is not one of them. This is why Dream knows his schedule.

He does feel… a bit silly, though. He should be better at this, should he not? Less bothersome to Hob over small things that he should be able to handle.

Normally he would go back to his work to distract himself from these thoughts, but he still can’t work on his fractals without being able to connect remotely to the university computers, which are more powerful than his own. This is something Hob had also set up for him, because Dream had not been able to make any sense of the instructions he had been given for remote login, and the like.

Sighing, he instead takes his sketchbook out of his bag. It’s been a while since he’s made any time for drawing. But he had started looking at fractals in the first place to better understand patterns in art, to understand resonances between what occurred in nature and what was projected by mathematics. And drawing used to soothe him.

So he starts drawing, sketching the fractal he has been generating—to the extant that he can with the imprecise instrument of his pen. Even in infinite impossible digital form, the branching spirals eventually become too small for him to see, though he knows they continue on in perfect replication forever, smaller and smaller until they disappear into atoms. He cannot recreate that level of detail by hand. But he tries.

By the time he gets another text back from Hob, an hour later, he’s moved to the floor to have more space. He’s found a bigger piece of scrap paper and is drawing the fractal again, in more detail this time, color-coding the different shapes, free-handing where he should probably use a ruler for more precision. He has achieved several more levels of replication than before, but it is still not right. He can’t get it right. If he could only use the stupid computer system he could get it right.

Finally he looks at his phone, several minutes after the text alert pinged.

Thanks love 😘

Unexpectedly, it makes him tear up. Always this happens to him. He does not realize how frustrated he has become with himself until it is too late.

Of course, to only make matters worse, he is still sitting hunched on the floor, pen clasped tight in his hand, teeth clenched so hard it’s hurting his jaw, when Hob comes through the door. He must have texted not far from home.

“Hey, love,” Hob’s already saying as he comes through the door, “meant to stop and grab dinner but I totally forgot— I’m sure I have something here, though— Dream?”

Dream hasn’t moved from the floor, or responded. Hob puts down his bag and comes over to him. He looks down at the fractal, which is still incomplete. “Did you draw that?”

“Obviously,” Dream bites. The pen is still in his hand. He drops it, scraping a hand through his hair. Great. Now he’s snapping at Hob, too.

Hob sits down on the floor beside him. He studies the fractal. Then points to one of the shapes that Dream’s colored in red. “That’s supposed to be purple.”

Dream stares at the fractal. Hob is right, it is meant to be purple. According to the way Dream had color-coded it digitally. He looks at Hob. “How do you know that?”

“I’ve watched you fiddling with it enough. We set it up on your laptop, remember?”

Yes. Dream remembers. He remembers how Hob had helped him.

“Wifi giving you troubles again?” Hob asks, looking from the drawing, to Dream’s laptop, which is sleeping on the couch.

Dream nods, then saws quietly, “Are you not… frustrated with me? Annoyed?”

Hob doesn’t need to ask what he means. “Sometimes,” he says, and Dream can’t help his flinch. “So?”

“So?”

Hob shrugs. “I would have missed that class if you didn’t text me.”

Dream does not understand the relevance.

Hob looks up at him, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “Aren’t you annoyed with me?”

Perhaps he is, at times. Recently, Dream has been too absorbed in his project to feel much about it at all.

“I don’t know,” he says. “It is just how you are.”

Hob seems to think that Dream still doesn’t understand the point he’s making, and perhaps Dream doesn’t. Hob takes his hand. “Look. I’ve no idea why someone as smart as you are is constantly defeated by basic technology, but it doesn’t matter. Always having to be the one to fix the router is a small price to pay for having you in my life.”

Dream’s mouth opens, but no words come out. He… he does not know if anyone has ever put up with him with so little complaint. For truly, it is not only computer troubles. It is all the small things that stack upon each other to make him feel different and difficult.

“I find I do not like…” Dream admits tentatively, “when you must do these things. That I should be able to do.”

“You did the laundry the other day,” Hob says.

Why must he jump topics in this manner? “I do not understand.”

“Well, we don’t actually live together, you know. You have your own laundry. You don’t have to do mine, too.”

“I thought it would help you,” Dream says.

Hob just waits expectantly.

Dream looks down at his lap. “Ah. I… see.” Hob finds him frustrating at times, he had said so, but still wants to help him. He finds Hob’s admittance that Dream is frustrating to be a relief, in its way. He would only feel more on edge if Hob pretended otherwise, surely to snap later when Dream was least expecting it, as so many have done.

“Give me your arm,” Hob says then.

When Dream does, Hob pushes up his sleeve, takes one of the markers from the floor and writes on Dream’s forearm, the wifi password is I love you.

“There,” he says. “Now you won’t forget.”

Dream touches the words with a light fingertip. “This is not good internet security.”

“Oh, so you do listen my ramblings,” Hob says, laughing. Always, Dream thinks. “What, you’re going to throw out my valentine because I cut the heart out a little wonky?”

He makes as if to rub the marker off, and Dream pulls his arm protectively to his chest. Hob’s smile softens. He carefully pulls Dream forward into a hug, Dream’s arm pressed between them. Dream tucks his face into the crook of Hob’s neck. It’s one of his favorite places to hide.

“I’ll help you fix your program after we find some dinner,” Hob tells him, rubbing his back.

“I think I should give up on using computers,” Dream mumbles.

Hob chuckles. “See how you feel about it after I make you some brownies for dessert.”

Dream hums in pleasure at the thought, and Hob kisses the side of his head. And Dream touches, again, the words Hob’s written on his arm, where it’s pressed between them. And allows himself to smile.

Wednesday, 6:03pm

Dream is attempting to cook dinner. Hob doesn’t think it’s going so well. At least not if the blaring fire alarm, which Hob’s just silenced by waving a dish towel at it until the smoke dissipated, is any indication. But it does mean he’s been treated to the sight of Dream with his sleeves rolled up, delicate hands at work—and wearing an actual apron.

Having soothed the alarm, he leans against the counter so he can shamelessly ogle instead of helping.

“What are you even trying to make?” he asks, eyeing the still-smoking oven.

Dream pouts. “Only bread. It should not be so hard.”

“You didn’t wait for me to get home to watch?” He imagines the sight of Dream aggressively kneading the bread dough. It shouldn’t be a turn on, but it kind of is.

“You would make a spectacle of my misery?” Dream says, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, like he knows exactly what Hob is thinking about.

“Definitely,” Hob says, and Dream sighs, but turns to take the attempt at bread out of the oven. It’s… pretty blackened, to be honest. “Butter’ll save it, I’m sure!” Hob says cheerfully.

“Nothing will save it,” says Dream, morosely. He pulls off his oven mitt in apparent disgrace, and— Hob catches his arm.

“How has this not faded yet?”

For Hob’s writing saying the wifi password is I love you is still on his forearm.

Dream looks sheepish. “I got it tattooed.”

Hob tilts his head at him, confused. “So you could remember the wifi password?”

“So that I could remember this.” He traces his finger over, I love you.

Hob feels a blush creep across his cheeks. But it’s a pleasant feeling. “This is not even my best handwriting.”

“I know,” says Dream. He does not seem unhappy about it.

Hob takes his arm, touches the words, too. “You could have just gotten this part done.”

“I think,” Dream says slowly, touching the part that says, the wifi password is, “that this is another form of the same.”

And Hob… finds himself tearing up a little. Because it’s true. It’s so silly that Dream, certifiable maths genius, struggles so much with basic computer skills. But Hob will do any silly thing for him, because he loves him.

“Yeah,” he says, taking a shaky breath. “It is.”

“Unfortunately, you can never change the wifi password now,” says Dream, and Hob laughs wetly.

“I really can’t, can I? Terrible security. The things I’ll do for you, darling.”

“Would that include making proper bread?” Dream asks, and Hob nods, patting his arm.

“We’ll fix it, don’t worry.”

Now he’s wondering how he didn’t notice Dream getting a tattoo. Though to be fair, they haven’t seen each other as much in the past two weeks as they usually would, thanks to very inconvenient scheduling. Apparently Dream’s taken advantage of that time to do this.

“Can’t let you out of my sight for a second,” he says, as he fetches a new bread pan from the cupboard. “God knows what you’ll come back with next.”

“Be careful or I will consider that a challenge,” Dream says, and Hob pauses as way too many images flash through his mind. He shakes them off. He’ll never be able to focus on anything like that.

And Dream, the bastard, is smirking.

“Watch that look on your face or you might find that flour you’re holding dumped over your head,” Hob warns, but Dream only looks victorious, and utterly uncaring of the bag of flour he's precariously picked up.

“How will you ogle me kneading the dough that way?”

Hob swipes a dish towel from the counter and throws it at him. Dream yelps and spills the flour, which poofs up in a cloud of white landing all over his black t-shirt.

“Hob,” he complains.

“Serves you right, you dickhead,” Hob says. It only returns the smirk to Dream’s face.

“If you feel that way perhaps I’ll decide I don’t need your supervision,” he says archly.

Hob tears a piece off of Dream’s first attempt at a loaf. Or rather, breaks off a piece, which is hard as stone. He shows it to him as evidence.

Dream snatches it and shoves it into his mouth. Bites down with a crunch so horrifying Hob’s afraid he’s broken a tooth. But Dream persists, chewing it painstakingly and then swallowing, as if by force.

“Taste good?” Hob asks.

“Yes—” Dream starts to insist—then dissolves into a fit of coughing that swiftly turns into giggles. Hob loves it so much when he laughs like that. It’s so rare.

Hob laughs with him. Then frees the crumpled bag of flour from Dream’s grasp and sets it aside, brushes the flour and crumbs from his shirt. Then he takes Dream’s arm and runs his fingertip over the words again, still in awe.

He again finds himself having to clear his throat to avoid tearing up. But he manages, and says, “Let’s get you some proper, not burnt bread, yeah?”

“Please,” says Dream, a tad sheepish. “I am… very hungry.”

Hob kisses his cheek, then goes about solving that problem, too.

[magolandandfriends]

Guys I wonder what movie they’re gonna watch

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

(SURPRISE MORE COSTUMES- don’t worry this is the last one I’ll post until next Halloween (or whenever I feel extra goofy) obviously I need to answer the Halloween related ask that’s in my inbox- I forgot to finish it I’m so sorry IN 24 HOURS ILL POST IT)

(But since the last post did SUPER WELL like oh my goodness thank you so much <3333 quick little trivia for you guys regarding their costumes- Taranza bought his costume online, Susie used some of her clothes and just bought some extra accessories, Magolor mostly made his costume from scratch (just had to buy the hat) and Marxs costume is made completely from scratch (he asked for Magolors help like twice-) besides that the stitching pattern shows who did what (Marxs is mostly messy since he isn’t the best when it comes to sewing and Magolors is very neat and is done in smooth clean lines. Man I hope that isn’t important later or anythi-)

(One more thing- Marx was the one who came up with the “dressing up as the fazgang for the fnaf movie” idea, he’s trying to containing his excitement but it’s barely working since every 6 seconds he wants to explode (in a good way)

(Now that the trivia is over you guys get a little doodle based off some videos I’ve seen)

(Ok I’m done typing for now I’m gonna skedattle- I HAVE YO GO TO WORK (aka draw my silly drawings and maybe write an essay) I hope you guys had a great Halloween and I hope that these silly drawings made your day)

[hanasnx]

okay okay here is some more ani+ hands content as promised

so i can't get the idea of anakin being smug about it out of my head. bc like, it’s such a fucking ego boost for this man that you’re falling apart for his literal hands 

_____

like it starts off all innocent, with you having little doodles of anakin and some of your other friends in your little sketchbook that you never let go of

until you eventually start drawing anakin more and more… bc he’s just so pretty and drawable yk. like he’s got the curls and the scar and just how intense his eyes can be so you can’t help but draw him. until one day you watch him going on about the different parts of his lightsaber and how he’s planning to tweak it and yada yada but you’re just watching his hands bc lord almighty

you tell yourself it's an innocent, purely artistic fascination but that is NOT the case when you’re touching yourself at night thinking about ‘em so later on as you get closer (as friends or as enemies, you decide), he finds your notebook one day bc it fell out of your stuff or something and there are just these beautiful sketches of… his hands?

and at first, he’s confused? bc that couldn’t possibly be the case but his curiosity takes over, he leafs through to see different images of himself - his eyes, his side profile, him that one time he showed up with a bedhead - but most importantly his hands. He recognizes them as his own because of the level of detail and the thin rope bracelet on his left. so he becomes a man on a mission to test this theory ofc. handing you your things, letting the sleeves of his robes slide back more than necessary. taking every opportunity to put his arm around the small of your back as he needs to move past. working on his lightsaber or R2 whenever you’re around, noticing how one of the most intelligent, witty people he knows becomes simply mesmerized just watching him tinker with stuff

and now that he’s confirmed his theory? you bet your ass he is gonna use it night and day. i’m thinking of him goofing around with some of the men from his troops until he’s shoving one of them up against the wall with something like “is that how you’re gonna talk to a general?” and then he lets him go and they’re all laughing about it as they go their separate ways but when he walks past you, you hear him whisper like “you wished that was you, don’t you?” and your brain fucking short circuits. him when one day he’s trying to focus on something and all you can hear is you rambling about something or the other under he gets up puts his hand over your mouth and he feels you go pliant under him just looking at him with these bedroom eyes bc omfg you can feel how the pads of his fingers are roughly pressing into the flesh of your cheek “Just let me finish this thing without talkin’ my ear off, and maybe i’ll fuck you stupid properly, hm?” he says casually, as if he isn’t wearing the world’s smuggest look on his face. and you bet your ass this man will deliver “wanted my hands on you, is that it?” “look at you, drooling over my hands like some cheap lower-level slut” “Want my fingers in your mouth? Or around your throat until they leave pretty little bruises, hm? bcs I can make that happen” “gonna make you hump my fuckin arm until you make a fuckin mess like i know you will”

“greedy little pussy is taking my fingers like you were made for it, goddamn”

him making you watch while licks his fingers off after having his fingers in your pussy

okay i'm done for now

prev post

☥ “it’s such a fucking ego boost for this man that you’re falling apart for his literal hands”

100%

☥ “just how intense his eyes can be so you can’t help but draw him”

i love describing anakin’s eyes as intense. they’re just so present, so demanding, his gaze so severe and unforgiving. yes. intense. i love it.

☥ “he recognizes them as his own because of the level of detail and the thin rope bracelet on his left.”

the fucking rope bracelet detail. omfg. it’s so simple, so him

☥ “taking every opportunity to put his arm around the small of your back as he needs to move past.”

as i said in my last post,.,.,,.,, yes. hand at the small of your back supremacy

☥ “him when one day he’s trying to focus on something and all you can hear is you rambling about something or the other under he gets up puts his hand over your mouth and he feels you go pliant under him just looking at him with these bedroom eyes bc omfg you can feel how the pads of his fingers are roughly pressing into the flesh of your cheek”

stoppppp stop stop. shutting you up manually with just a big hand over your mouth im fucking drooooling. i’d be lookin up at him with crazy fuck me eyes fr you’re so real for saying this suffu

☥ “‘look at you, drooling over my hands like some cheap lower-level slut’; ‘want my fingers in your mouth? or around your throat until they leave pretty little bruises, hm?’; & ‘gonna make you hump my fuckin arm until you make a fuckin mess like i know you will’”

cheap lower-level slut😳💕🥴🫦😵‍💫 i think about this a lot. just,,,,, the coruscant detail, adding “cheap” makes me go so crazy. omfg. i love degradation; imagine those finger pad shaped bruises littering your neck im feral; & arm kink🚨arm kink🚨 im freeaaakaksigjngng i wanna fuck his arm so fucking bad this made me soooo 😵‍💫😵‍💫 insane. using the word “hump” god. chefs kiss.

☥ “‘greedy little pussy is taking my fingers like you were made for it,’”

this. this. this. this. insinuating you were created for the sole purpose of sex, for being obedient, for being his hole. oh god yes. i cant even fucking breathe i gotta sit down im so dizzy imagining his thick fingers stuffed inside a drippy pussy i’m sooooo😭😭

☥ “him making you watch while licks his fingers off after having his fingers in your pussy”

STOPPPPP STOP FUCKING STOPP i cant take it anymore i feel like i gotta break shit rn

the big show he’d make of it,.,.,. side eyeing you while he fucking licks his fingers clean. until his eyes are full on boring into yours as he’s sucking the remnants of your finish off his skin and you’re wishing you were the one to do it.

licking your cum/squirt off his fingers together, making out with his digits and melding your tongues through and around them… like the disgusting, impatient, greedy perverts you are.

[bogleech]

I tend to just assume all my artwork, little fiction projects, comics, flash animations and other created work is just old news to anyone even passingly familiar with me but....I get the feeling very few of you know more than 1% of it as I look over the folder where I keep what’s probably less than half of all I’ve held onto.

This folder doesn’t include ANY of Mortasheen or Awful Hospital, each of which are another several thousand files themselves. I’m thinking of sorting a bunch of this other stuff into various zip files I could share on my patreon with accompanying notes, explanations and sketches wherever applicable, maybe also include the raw digital art files? I’ll probably still have to leave out some things that are just too boring and stupid, or really personal commissions/gift art, but there’s still gotta be a thousand things I could share. Here’s some random miscellaneous thingies:

For a while I was illustrating various mythological vampires, ghouls and other undead for a book collab with C.M. Kosemen (All Tomorrows, etc.) that fell to the wayside when he had to work on a much bigger project.

Another book project that didn’t get off the ground was going to be a cartoony look at truly obscure real world animal groups, like this Aspidosiphon. This was going to be a collab with biologist Ross Piper after his book Animal Earth, but didn’t really go past the “floating ideas around” stage and some sample art.

I illustrated a couple dozen enemies for the game “Crystal Catacombs,” in some cases influencing the final in-game designs. Had a lot of fun doing this, though the game never sold enough to get many royalties.

I started but unfortunately never completed a visual novel style game a few years back that was another Silent Hill homage, told from the perspective of a monster manifested entirely to torment a single human. Multiple characters/creatures exist as these very quick low-resolution doodles and a ton of story notes.

I illustrated creature cards for a board game, Chimera Island, where you mixed and matched different heads, bodies and tails then basically argued a case for what would make a given creature successful in the randomized ecosystem. Friends and I played an early copy of this game once and found it really really fun, but then the creator totally rehashed the mechanics after some other group’s mixed feedback, we found the new version extremely difficult to figure out, and I think the whole project got scrapped or it released to poor reception, I can’t remember, and I don’t even know what happened to that single fun prototype :[

There’s other unfinished or half-finished projects, and there’s just hundreds and hundreds of miscellaneous things that serve no purpose. There’s also tons locked up in Adobe Flash files from when I used that as my drawing software, but I no longer have any cracked software that can open those. There’s assets for multiple whole platformer games, for instance, that uh...were also commissions by people who gave up or moved on to other projects before any of it saw the light of day. At least I still got most of the pay, when pay was actually promised (I was a bit trusting)

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

These have been sitting in my inbox for a while, and I want to apologize, because I am a world champion at procrastination. I actually have quite a few asks that I’ve never responded to, and I feel like such an asshole. If you sent an ask and I never responded, PLEASE don’t think I’m ignoring you or I don’t care; I just have this thing where I get distracted very easily and it turns into procrastination. I really cherish all the love jam packed into those tiny little asks.

But these are the most recent ones, and they’re kind of in the same vein. I really should make a narrated process video of some sort one day. I do have something like that on patreon right now, but it’s over a year old, and my process has changed since then. But for now, I’ll try to answer these as best I can!

First of all, thank you!! This ain’t a question but I’ll go on a spiel anyway. I use a dark pencil for outlining, and I try to emphasize deeper/darker areas with both pressure (pressing down harder on the pencil), and overall size of the line/mark/whatever. These spots are typically the upper eyelid, nostrils, corners of mouth, inner ear, bottom/roots of pieces of hair, spots where clothing wrinkles originate, that sort of thing. Oftentimes I’ll emphasize the “underside” of objects or shapes too.

As for time for a drawing, it varies a lot. The lengthiest thing I work on is commissions. The initial light sketch for a comm can actually take a while, depending on the drawing. 2 full characters together requires a lot of planning for the poses and stuff. So I might spend an hour, 2 hours if I’m really struggling, just making the sketch for a 2 full body character drawing. Then I’ll take maybe 5 or 7 hours to do the rest? That’s a guess, I don’t really keep track. Usually I’ll do the sketch one day, and the next day I’ll spend all or most of the work day just finishing the drawing. I consider one of those “a days work”. Hopefully that made sense! 

The images of my drawings are clean because I scan them! After I scan them, I do a levels adjustment in photoshop. (I struggle taking pics with my phone, even though it has a nice camera 🥲I don’t think I could ever get close to the way they look now without a scanner) 

As for how I make them look clean on paper, I think it’s a combination of two things: the pencil I do the initial sketch with is substantially lighter than the one I outline with. So when I’m outlining/rendering out the drawing, the sketch lines sort of fall back and aren't as noticeable. Secondly, I use a click eraser to erase the sketch lines as I go. And I take my time and use a lot of patience and prioritize neatness/details. This is especially the case with comms. With those I give 110%. For my own personal doodles, I don’t focus on making them as neat, and instead scribble around with my pencil to get the values I want, without fretting over each individual shape to make sure it makes sense. 

I hope this answers your questions okay! I really should make some sort of video but I don’t have a lot of time right now. Thank you for your asks and kind words!!

[shepscapades]

not you coming back just to remind me of my old pokemon obsession/j

I remember watching Pokemon XYZ series when I was younger (probably the closest thing to anime I've ever watched) I used to be a hardcore fan back then, used to watch many gameplays theories stuff and all...-

Pokemon were like,,, my only interest back then? Damn I used to be crazy about those creatures, still remember how whenever I was playing a Pokemon game my team was almost exclusively flying types (birds! I love them!) and an Eevee (later one of the eeveelutions, probably vaporeon)

I don't recall watching your animatic in the past but it feels very familiar to me like some kind of deja vu so it's possible I've actually seen it before! And I must say it has a very nostalgic feel to it! I can see how much you've improved since then but the animatic still is very cool! I love it <3

(ALSO I almost forgot how much I loved Sycamore's design back then ghghhghghgh he's such a pretty man)

Welp, now I go back to watching Welsknight and some other Pokemon animatics because you messed with my algorithm and led me into diving into an old obsession -

LMAOOO MAY <3 I’m so sorry for the YouTube algorithm that’s so funny XD yeah idk, Pokémon’s one of those things that never left me— mcyt has been at the forefront of my hyperfixations for a very long while but I still always play the new games and have brief Pokémon obsessions every now and then hehe (also!!! flying pokemon and eevee beloved!!! <333333)

Funny enough, it always happens at times like these when most of my Drawing Brain+Brainrot is taken up by school or professional work, bc my free time is instead spent playing games I can zone out to like Pokémon :>

About 2 months ago I picked up Legends Arceus for the first time since I didn’t get to finish it two years ago, and seeing cheeky references to the characters I grew up with + the insane plot that is this game gripped me so tightly that I’ve kinda been in a Pokémon spiral (/pos) ever since LOL. I’ve been a submas freak lately and if anyone who has ever been into the funny train men has me on discord they’ll know that my status is very telling <3 maybe I’ll post some of the background doodles I’ve been doing lately!! I’m such a freak about minecraft idk why I’m embarrassed to be equally freakish about the other ““game for children”” LMAO

[lyn-js]

One Step at a Time | Prologue

Calvin Evans x OC Reader

Summary: Everything in Ava Mason's life was what you call normal. She has a steady job as a lab tech at Hastings, has a beautiful bungalow in Sugar Hill, and sometimes babysits her friend Harriet's kids. But that all changes when social services show up at her doorstep with, her 2-year-old niece Delilah. Ever since then, it has been keeping you from your job, going to work late, and leaving when everyone else has gone home. But a certain chemist wants to know why a lab tech is staying late.

Warning: Angst, swearing, mentions of drug & alcohol abuse, dysfunctional family, mentions of adoptions & being put into foster care, and a whole lotta fluff.

(This story is kind of based on what actually happened in Lessons in Chemistry. But no dying. We need to keep one of Lewis's characters alive.)

I also do not own any characters in Lessons in Chemistry except for my character Ava Mason.

Walking up to the sounds of little feet padding into your room, you couldn’t ever want to trade that sound in for the world. Fluttering your eyes open, you can see the little girl waddling her way to your bead, for how far her feet can take her. You can also see her hair sprawled out in different directions, and a dopy smile on her face, happy to see you. You focus your attention on your niece your big golden doodle Poppy to come to trodding next to Delilah to help her stand. 

“Mornin’ Aunty Ava,” she says with a cheeky grin on her face, while also trying to hide it from you. “Good morning Bunny,” you say to her. Then, the next second you lift her onto the bed, smothering her face in little kisses while she erupts into a fit of giggle. You had to stop your kisses when Poppy jumped onto the bed and sandwiches between you and Delilah. “Poppy missin’ the kisses too Aunty,” she says while still giggling. After the laughter died down, you over at the clock that was on your nightstand. Having to move some homemade drawings that Delilah made you the other day. You read that it’s 9:30. You’re Late.

Oh Shit.

You pick up Delilah and rush out of the bed, try and get her and yourself dressed, teeth brushed, and out the door. You are getting her buckled in the car and on your way to Harriet's house. When you both arrive, you see a man across the street stretching, maybe he was getting ready for a run. But after he’s done stretching you both stare at one another. It felt like you both were stuck in time like the whole world stopped spinning, and the attention was just on you and him. “Hey Ava!” you snap out of your daze and hear Harriet walking down her porch to greet you and Delilah. You wanted to see if the mysterious tall man was still there, but when you turned back around. He was gone. “Hey… Har’. I was wondering if it’s no trouble if you can watch Del again tonight. The amino’s lab is busting my butt. I need to get some more work finished-” “Hey, It’s okay. I’m happy to watch the little bun again. Plus, we're gonna have so much fun, whaddya think Del?” Hariient asks. Delilah just jumps up and down, “YAY! Hab so much fun Aunty!” you both laugh at her squealing excitement. You kneel down to Delilah’s height and kiss her cheek. “I’ll see you later Bunny. Be good for Harriet okay?” “Otay, Bye, Bye Aunty Ava!” She says waving while being carried up the porch. You give her one more wave until she and Harriet disappear into the house. You let out an exhale, start up your car again, and put it in drive.

Off to Hastings, it is.

Most of your day was spent in the lab cleaning up beakers that were once of a failed experiment, secretly correcting the mistakes some newbies made while writing their problems, and making them coffee. They can go down to the cafeteria and grab a cup, but all of the chemists butter you up with compliments “They don’t make it as you do,” or “At least you know how to make a good cup of joe than the other ladies on the staff.” You wanted to feel insulted, you wanted to speak up and say something. But you knew they would run off to Donatti and there was a high chance, you could get fired. So just keep your head down, mouth shut and be the disty lab tech. Who apparently makes good coffee?

When walking back from lunch you were walking past the secretaries room. Suddenly you hear your name being called. “Miss. Mason…Ava?” you turn around and see the head of the secretaries department, Fran Frask. “Good morning Miss. Frask,” you say to her with a tight-lipped smile and continue walking down to the lab. You knew she was going to bug you again about the pageant. But time and time again you tell her you can’t participate because you have plans that night, meaning you are having a movie night with your niece. That was the only night you could get off on time, and have some time with Deliaha. 

“I hope you can still sign up for the Little Miss Hastings pageant, you know your lab is in between secretaries and you fella could use a boost for the event.” She asks “I’m sorry, but I'm not a secretary,” I say to her being a little offended because she knew for a fact that I was a lab tech. A very good one to be at that. “Well… Ya know lab techs can participate too, it’s any female support staff.” “Thank you, Fran but pageants aren’t my idea of fun,” I say to her while grabbing lab coats and passing them out on each table. “Well, what do you consider fun Ava?” she says with a little enthusiasm in her voice. “I-I like to cook and bake.” “Well ya know, let me know if you change your mind.” “I won't but thank you. Now if you don’t mind I have a lot to clean up before the chemists arrive.” You give her a small wave and a smile so she can hopefully get the hint to leave.

She gives me another little cheeky grin and points her red-colored nails at me. “I’ll put you down as a maybe.” then walking away. Why can’t your life get any easier?

Walking around the lab once again you hear men wanting more coffee, and helping out some others who need help with their equations for the expedients. When coming around to the station where you set up your coffee, you see someone who was a part of the lab walk in with a magazine, and on the front was a man holding up test tubes and seeing what was inside. He looks so familiar, but I don’t know where I have seen him before. You think to yourself, but you snap out of your thoughts and finish making the coffee. But you keep getting distracted when all of the men keep talking about the infamous Calvin Evans. “What does he have that we don’t,” one of them said out loud. Also saying he was up for a Nobel prize, “Doesn’t give him the right to take all of our supplies. I mean how much ribose does one guy need?” 

Maybe this could work, maybe if you can get back some of that ribose you can finally be seen by the lab. Not seen as some female ditsy lab tech. You can finally matter in the world.

It was now after hours and you were over at the sink cleaning up some test tubes and beakers when you heard your name being called out. It was the head of the Aminos lab, Dr. Price. Just telling me to not stay later because he would get in trouble with Donatti. You just nod your head and oblige to his rules, but not listening. After everyone leaves you sneak your way out of the lab to avoid being seen by the janitorial staff and make your way over to Mr. Evans's lab.

When you reach his lab you see on his door there are cardboard signs saying “Keep out” and “Do Not Linger” but I know for a fact that I’m not keeping out, and I’m lingering. So screw your signs. You go back to sneaking in, so you take one of your bobby pins from your hair and unlock the door. Once open you can get a full view of what the infamous chemist does in here. You see records scattered all over the tables, so many loose-leaf pieces of paper with different equations and answers on them. And his lab coat hanging over a lounge chair in the corner. But you start to look around for the back room so you can find what you're looking for.

You pick another lock to the other door, you scan the shelves to find the little tiny bottles. When you finally come across the ribose, the shelves were covered from front to back with so many bottles. How many bottles does this guy need? You think to yourself. You grab a couple of bottles, lock up the doors, and seak your way back over to your lab, finish up your work, and finally head home to see your baby bunny and finally get some sleep. But what you didn’t know was when you were “sneaking” back to the lab, the best of the best secretaries Fran Frask watched you go back into the lab while she was locking up her room for the night.

Once again you wake up late, and trying fast as possible to get ready. You arrived super late around 9:00 but of course, there was traffic, and show up at almost 11. You rush up to the lab so you can get started on handing out the rest of the equipment. But you were stopped by Fran again to tell you Donatti needed you in his office. He sums up the meeting by saying that you weren’t supposed to be staying late, and if it happened again you would be let go from Amino’s lab and Hasingscompletely. Not only that but he was forcing you to compete in the pageant. You try your best to argue why you can’t participate, but of course, he threatens to fire you.  That sets you back a little bit more when Fran confers you to take a picture and be put it on the bulletin board for the pageant. Can this day get any worse than it already is?

You finally make it up to the lab. But, you stop suddenly when you see a man sitting on the table holding a miniature bottle of what you assumed was ribose.

 Oh No.

“Ah, there she is. The thief,” the man says in a mocking tone. I just looked at him like I didn’t know anything. “I beg your pardon?” you ask back. He hops down from the table and starts pacing back and forth. It looked like his head was about to explode. “I have been through every department, and interrogated multiple chemists. Including ones from this very lab,” he twirls his pointer finger around and then points to me. “Who say that you,  Miss. Mason have a history of ruffling feathers. And also have an arrogant attitude of self-importance.” “Have you heard yourself speak Mr. Evans?” I say with raised eyebrows. “Oh, s-so you don’t deny it? I-I mean what would a secretary have anything to do with ribose, aside from selling it on the black market.” 

I just look at him dumbfounded, almost looking like this crazy man has 3 heads. “I am a chemist Mr. Evans, not a secretary!” I said back to him but he was almost out the front door. “Oh, and a fibber, now aren’t we?” I drop my jaw when he walks out the door. “Oh, yes. Because there is such a high demand on the black market for monosaccharide!” “This is very disappointing! Very–- I’m disappointed Miss. Mason.” he turned the corner, and then he disappeared.

(Calvins’s POV)

You were pacing back and forth in front of Fran Frask’s desk, deciding what I should do about this unbelievable situation. 

“One: My lab was unlocked last night, so I want someone to speak to janitorial and have new locks placed on the door.” I see Fran write down on her paper and nodding her head. “Two: I have calculated the cost of the missing ribose, and I want to make it clear, that will not be coming out of my budget. Three: I want the floors sterilized. At least one person entered without my authorization. And with my allergies, I cannot risk any contaminants. You understand?” You look back at her to make sure she has every little detail down to a tea. She just nods “ Yes. I’ll take care of it, Dr. Evans.” Writing the rest down.

“And lastly, I would like the secretary held accountable.” You look up to see Fran have a little smile on her lips. “Don’t worry. I’ll have her fired.”

I furrow my eyebrows a little bit, “Well… just a formal reprimand will suffice.” I see her giving the same look back at me. “I’m shocked that it was on my face. “Dr. Evans I’m shocked that it was one of my secretaries, honestly. Um, you said it was in the Aminos lab? Because that’s Mary Ann Rogers.” She tells me the woman’s name. It’s not her. “No, no, no. Her name is Ava Mason.” She looks back up at me. “Oh, she not a secretary. She’s a lab tech. Puls she should know better, she has her masters.” she looks back down scrambling around, looking for some important papers. “Her masters? In what?” “Chemistry.” Now I look a little dumbfounded at what Fran just told me. Then she asks about the “Little Miss Hastings” pageant, asking if I will be attending. I just simply ignored her and just walk out the door back up to my lab. But, I stop in my tracks to look at the bulletin board to see the contestant for the pageant. As I look in the lower corner I see the picture of the one and only Ava Mason. For some reason, she looks so frightened. Not wanting her picture to be taken, but giving a half-smile just trying to look nice.

You just simply walk away from the board and continue your journey back to your lab. Why would she want to steal some stupid ribose, and why would she be staying late? You need to get to the bottom of this, and fast.

End.

To all of you reading this, I hope you enjoy this story. I've said this many times with other stories, but I do have big plans for these 2 characters. So, stay tuned for what's about to happen.

Reblogs are always welcome. Unless you're under 18. I will block you. and comment if you want to be added to the taglist. If I forgot anybody message me and let me know. You will be added.

Also, If I forgot anyone on the taglist message me. I will add you.

Taglist: @petersunderoos96 @mrspedropascal5683 @callsign-magnolia

dividers are by @saradika

[fizzyginfizz]

“Kill your darlings, kill your darlings, even when it breaks your egocentric little scribbler’s heart, kill your darlings.”

― Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft

It's been forever since I posted anything - fic or tumblr - and I wanted to pop in and let the six beautiful, wonderful, enthusiastic people who follow Quidditch is for Losers know that I am, indeed, still working on it.

But, I'm also in the phase where I've written way too many words and I'm streamlining storyline and killing darlings.

This hurts me. Editing hurts. I always write waaaaay too much. So every now and then, I might bury some of my dead darlings in this tumblr graveyard.

You six beautiful, wonderful, enthusiastic people? I hope you find and enjoy this microfic that used to be the beginning of the next QifL chapter.

But no longer is. Because it's dead. I've killed it.

Little dots splashed on the page as Ginny shook her quill, muttering her scratched words out loud, wondering what she could possibly say next. Dear Bill, Got back last night to unpack-then-pack-again to find smuggled stack of parchment with “Dear Bill” already doodled on each sheet. Also - dozen quills with tiny tags labelled “Me, too. Charlie.” “Ginny! We’re leaving for the Leaky now!” Ron’s voice shot up the stairwell. From her cross-legged position on her bedroom floor, Ginny yelled through the door. “You lot go on without me, I’ll follow in a few!” Her quill hovered over parchment. “And take my trunk with you!” she added, before turning back to her letter. Not subtle. Couldn’t - “Ginny?” Percy’s voice yanked her off her train of thought. “Your trunk is on the landing.” “Maybe someone who can legally use a wand can levitate it downstairs?” Ginny huffed, jabbing her quill back into the ink. “Since you’re all packed for school, Bill should know we’ve arrived home. Maybe you should-” Percy was cut off with a loud thump. Ginny could hear Fred’s oomph through the door. “Who left their trunk on the landing?” “Someone,” Ginny groaned, “who’d like someone else - perhaps with a wand and a blatant disregard for underage magic law- to levitate it to the floo?” “Oi,” George said, too casually from the other side of the door. “Did anyone let Bill know we’ve arrived home?” “Wish I had some parchment,” Fred added, sounding like his mouth was aimed right at the keyhole. “And quills,” George added. “Ginny?” Percy called through the door. “Do you happen to have parchment and quills?” “Perhaps tucked into your travel trunk?” “If you were to stumble upon some parchment and quills in your travel trunk-“ “-you could write Bill and let him know how you’re feeling.” “Best Brothers like to know stuff like feelings.” “Thoughts.” “Written down.” "On parchment." "With quills." “Oi!” Ron’s abnormally large feet thumped up the stairwell. “Which one of us was s’pposed to make sure Ginny writes Bill?” Ginny flew to her regular-sized feet and yanked open her door to find four brothers huddled around her trunk. “Go. Take my trunk, kick it down the stairs if your wands are broken. I’ll meet you at the Leaky after I finish writing the brother who is not Best Brother because no brothers are best.” She slammed the door in their faces, her trunk thumping down the stairs as she sat on the floor to finish her letter. Let’s discuss boundaries. Deceptively casual (totally overbearing) Best Brother has deputized four local spies to micro-manage sister’s existence? Is this how it’s going to be this year? I’m fine, got home fine, will have a fine year. Everyone needs to stop being mental. I’ll write you and Charlie every other week. Am off for an overnight at the Leaky before picking up train tomorrow morning. Never stayed at the Leaky, excited. “Never stayed at the Leaky, excited.” Ginny tried the words on her tongue as if they were an over-sized robe that could disguise the bloated subtext beneath, which went something like: “Harry accidentally blew up his aunt so we get a complimentary family night at the Leaky paid for by the Ministry, but I have no idea how these things are related because nobody tells me anything and they just want Harry to think something-they-aren’t-telling-me is perfectly normal even though seven Weasleys at the Leaky is about as normal as our gnomes donning garters for a delightful summer evening can-can.”

[abnormalityjoseph]

Corey Cunningham • General Headcanons

I LOVE THIS GUY

Oh. Corey. The guy that lives in my head rent free right now? Headcanons for him? Sure.

Totally not like I just finished the novel and was scrambling to throw this out there.

But as for my thoughts on the novel and the movie,,,I like some of the movie’s change in dialogue, but I also feel like the novel gives more..context/insight? Idk how to explain it. Hopefully there’s an extended cut of the movie that I can watch eventually.

•••••

- A very polite and well mannered guy.

-> Well, he tries to be even when the entire town hates him.

- You might have seen my previous post, but I am a FIRM BELIEVER that Corey has some fluffy hair AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL

- He’s so??? Emotionally distant towards anybody. If Yk what I mean?

-> [Most definitely terrified of getting emotionally hurt again. Especially with how everyone started to alienate him post-accident.]

-> Oh but he’s really touched starved.

- He may or may not…go a tad bit overboard. With affections towards his friends or a significant other(s).

-> I just think that he may seek physical contact from trusted friends. Platonic actions that would normally be seen a romantic (like hand holding), yk?

- He either gives awkward hugs or really good ones. Never an in-between.

- Corey would be very cautious of somehow stepping on your toes/boundaries. He doesn’t make many friends or ever had a romantic relationship (or generally made many friends—?)

-> Besides, he lost any friends he made after the accident. Because no one wanted to associate with the ‘Psycho Babysitter.’

- Totally would rant about ANYTHING because he doesn’t know social cues or when to stop talking.

-> Or— well, he would rant about his interests and then apologize because he feels like he talked too much. And feel like he just scared away any friend he could’ve made because he wouldn’t shut up.

-> It’s fine though because he would listen to his friends/romantic partner rant for as long as they want to talk. He’s a good listener!

- Might be a bit of a weird one, but I think he’d enjoy Twenty One Pilots and Wilbur Soot’s music. Dunno, just him listening to La Jolla/Saline Solution or Fairy Local makes sense in my head.

-> Also think he’d listen to Ship in a Bottle by fin, but I’ll make a different post for songs. Maybe.

- As for family.. I don’t know, his family life is definitely rough and tense as is.

-Resents his mother for being so overbearing (if that’s the right word for it), but can’t seem to fully hate her because she’s his family.

- He sometimes wonders about his dad, Wally, and if his life would’ve been better with him in the picture.

- He also doesn’t know how to feel about Ronald, his step-dad. He wasn’t really involved in his upbringing, but he’s nicer and way less of an overbearing parent in his life. Yet he still doesn’t do much to stop Joan.

- He doesn’t have social media. That’s probably a given but still.

- I feel like he wouldn’t vent to a friend by text, since Joan can snoop through his phone. He’d rather talk about his problems face to face, so the person can also share their problems as well.

- You know, he saw a psychiatrist for a bit before stopping? I’m assuming that’s the time just after the accident. It’s not a headcanon but it’s just something I noticed while I was reading the novel. It’s on, I think, page 207 on the digital version?

-> “…Mostly he just stayed at home. He had weekly trips to a psychiatrist for a while, but that was it. And this went on for months…”

- Corey may be able to tolerate terrible/mean customers, and the scrutiny or insults that any passerby could give him, but it’ll boil over eventually.

- He used to keep a diary/journal. But Joan (his mom) kept snooping and would find it. Now he can’t keep one in the house.

-> Well— maybe he hides it outside or the house. Maybe nearby the the place he works at.

- I think he doodles. Just on the corners of his notebooks. It’s kinda bad but hey, he never said he was a good artist.

- Post-Accident Corey can’t find that much enjoyment in Horror movies, especially The Thing, after well..you know.

-> Post-Michael Corey can though. He loves horror movies, and doesn’t feel that uncomfortable watching The Thing anymore. Just..fascinated. Over the concept of the creature, I mean. Shapeshifting alien…maybe a slasher movie would be more preferred for him still.

•••••

I… will write more stuff about a romantic relationship with Corey in a different post. And I’ll try to write more about post Michael Corey.

[drfoxweyman]

State of personal affairs (IMPORTANT)

(TL;DR will be towards the bottom for those who don’t wanna read my ramblings, but I’d prefer you did since this is important.) Hey everyone, hope you’re all doing well, I’ll cut to the point by saying that I am not. For the past… We’ll say couple of months I’ve been on something of a mental health spiral, and it hasn’t really gotten any better save for my time at the Con. Which was a nice, but very brief reprieve. The whys of this dip in my well being are pretty varied, and some of it I’m not really able to talk about, whether for personal reasons or respect for others. But to put it broadly, work has been stressful, home has been stressful, my health has been stressful, everything has been stressful, and as it stands I don’t think I can keep up with things right now. So I’m taking a small break from working on commissions, and allowing myself a bit more breathing room when it comes to my streams (which is to say the next few streams may be much smaller scale, more chill chatting streams.)  

Now before any of you who commissioned me recently panic: With my current comms I will still be updating you guys, just at a slower rate than normal, I don’t intend to leave you guys in the lurch. But if by the time I’m done with them I still feel this bad, I probably won’t reopen my queue like I’ve been doing nonstop for the past while now. At least if I can financially help it… Streams like I said are gonna be a bit more lax. I’ll probably finish Pinkie Tower, but after that? I dunno, chatting and maybe some light doodling. Dunno how this will affect Sinner’s Saturday since some kind of income would be nice, but this week we’re definitely doing something different, just have to figure out what.  And yes, I still owe you guys that Discord movie night, we’ll be doing that soon. As for how long this time off is gonna be? No clue, it might only be a few days honestly, but the longest I’m giving myself is two weeks cause I just can’t afford any longer than that. And speaking of “affording”, it’s time for literally my least favourite part of the job. The shilling™️. I probably won’t really be making much if any money during this period, so if you ever wanted to support my work with a nice tip. Now would be the time. You have no idea how much even a small tip of a few dollars can help.https://ko-fi.com/foxweyman I’m not gonna sugar coat this folks. I make peanuts on my work. That’s no one’s fault, it's just the nature of being both a small artist and streamer, it’s something I’ve come to peace with as a fact of my career choices. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t stress me out. Part of why I can never usually take breaks at all is because I literally can’t afford to.

I have rent to pay, phone bills, internet, electricity bills, hormone pills, pet expenses including; food, potential vet visits, toys, poo bags, cat litter, etc. I have to have money saved up incase of an emergency whether personal or work related (computer parts need replacing, tablet needs replacing etc), then there's house expenses; food, toilet paper, cleaning supplies; replacing anything we need etc. It’s a lot, even with our packed house.

The only reason I'm able to go to Furnal Equinox or Canfurence is because I start saving up money month after month after month as a treat to myself, and even when there I tend to bring my work so I can get my commission queue done faster and reopen them again as soon as the con is done.

I’ve been told to raise my prices but let’s be honest, I’m not at the level where I can charge hundreds upon hundreds of dollars for pieces, and while this may be a pessimistic view of my work, I probably won’t be able to any time soon. Same with stream goals, I don’t feel like there’s much I can offer right now that would be worth $500 goals or something.

I’d open a merch shop or something but that would be even more stressful upkeep, and again let’s be real. My reach isn’t big enough for that and you can only sell the same merch to the same customer base for so long.

I apologize if it seems like I’m ragging on about the money, but of all the things I’m dealing with it’s the easiest to talk about because it’s something I think at least a few of you can relate to. That and the more personal troubles cut a bit deeper and I’m not sure I even really wanna talk about them because I don’t like dragging you guys down with me. We’ve made an awesome little community and I don’t need to be hurting you with my problems. Is that the healthiest way of looking at it? No probably not but there it is.

Above all that though I just want some more time to myself and the people I care about, not fretting every second that “I could be working” or “I could be monetizing this”, instead of focusing on improving my mental health so I can be a better creator for you guys, and a better person for me. I wanna draw for myself again,even if it’s just low stakes doodles or barely cohesive comic pages, or hell even just to work on my poor draftwomanship .I wanna let myself play some games and not think “Oh I have to stream this”,  every time I do. I wanna be able to go out with my loved ones and not constantly be thinking “WHY AM I NOT WORKING ON COMMISSIONS???”

So TL;DR taking a light break, not sure how long exactly, will keep current customers in the loop, streams aren’t going anywhere but may be a bit different, please tip to the ko-fi so I can stay afloat during this time https://ko-fi.com/foxweyman

For those that read through, thank you so much, it means the world that you care enough about my mental health to drudge through my ravings. You’re truly the best part of this job. A wonderful community that I can just chat and be honest with, I can laugh and joke with you all without fear or anxiety. That’s exceedingly rare these days and I couldn’t be more appreciative of you lot.

That in mind, this took awhile to write, my hands are hurting, and I wanna go lie down, maybe allow myself a good cry. Thanks everyone. <3

- Blaire,“Drfoxweyman” 

[starryeyedreviews]

Little Chef - Full Review

Author’s note: ok so i know i had just listed down games i was gonna review and this isn’t one of them, but i saw Rock Paper Shotgun (shoutout to them! one of my favorite curators for sure) talk about this and gave it a try and it was SO cute ✨

Warning! Very minor spoilers in the screenshots, so if you want to play the game completely blind maybe don’t focus too hard on the background haha

Little Chef is a 2D physics-based game where you can mix ingredients to figure out different recipes. It takes place in an adorable little kitchen with objects you can interact with, allowing you to pick them up and drop them in the pot to cook. You can take the time to experiment with different combinations of ingredients, or get hints from the names in the recipe book you’re given.

The ingredients you have to work with are pretty common, so it’s not too difficult to figure out which to combine to make which food. Recipes range from needing 2 ingredients up to 5, making the latter recipes a little trickier to get. Successfully making a recipe results in lovely golden smoke from the pot, with your finished product popping up on screen, and the corresponding recipe unlocked in your book.

The book also includes a section for “failed” recipes, which you can also try to complete. A few of them require specific ingredients, while the others are just happy accidents from mixes gone wrong. Finding all of the recipes in the book, including the failed ones, gets you a congratulations screen, calling you a Master Chef! Perhaps a little reminder that your failures are part of what makes you successful 💜 (or that being a completionist pays off, haha!)

Surprisingly, the things you can place in the pot aren’t limited to just the edible. Most of what you can find in the kitchen can be moved around, and some even picked up, so it’s inevitable that a lot of us will try tossing those in the pot as well. This mechanic makes for some funny interactions and captions in the recipe book, giving you all the more reason to try and find them all 💫

The captions are another part of what makes this game such a treat to play. Each recipe gets its own caption, lovingly written like a slice of life. They make the game feel so much more personable and charming, and were what enticed me to get every single recipe just to see what the character had written.

As the game is free, it still has room to grow and be fleshed out. I’m sure if given the chance, the devs would add more recipes, and maybe some audio. Currently the entire game is silent, but in my opinion it would benefit from some ambient noise, maybe little bits of sound design like a “plop” when the ingredients are dropped, or a “ding!” when the food finishes cooking.

Little Chef reminds me a lot of Little Alchemy with the way you experiment, but shorter and much cozier. On the Itch page (which I’ll link below), the devs cite Potion Craft, Bartender: The Right Mix, and Doodle God: Alchemy Simulator as inspirations, which I could very much feel throughout the game. I really hope they continue developing this game, and as always can’t wait to see what they’ll do next 🌠

Short but sweet -- I give it 5 stars out of 5! ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Play Little Chef for free on Itch here!

If you have any questions/suggestions for me, please let me know! My asks are always open ✨

~ Gabi 🌙

[lou-struck]

A Happy Little Distraction

Azumane Asahi x reader

Prompt: Drawing with music

~This prompt is a part of my Comfort Milestone Event which you can find on my Welcome page

You really should be working on something, but your head feels like it's made of lead. Any creativity that normally would flow through you is blocked by a mental dam of your own creation. After another pitiful sigh, you see that your boyfriend pokes his head up from where he was laying on the couch trying not to disturb you. When he sees the pleading look you shoot him, Azumane Asahi, gets up and walks over to the table where he last left you to work an hour ago. His large hands grab your shoulders and he looks at you warmly, his long hair falling into his face, “how much have you gotten done Pumpkin?” “All this.” You say sarcastically, gesturing to the empty page. He furrows his brow and peers at the sheet trying to find any semblance of work. “But there’s nothing there?“ he states. “Exactly.” You sigh dramatically leaning back against his massive frame. “It’s hopeless, I’ll never finish this, I’m in a creative slump." “What can I do to help?” He asks softly giving your shoulders another squeeze of reassurance. “Azumane,” you whine. “It’s too quiet in here, I can’t think I need some kind of background noise.” He nods and thinks for a moment. “I can turn on some music. That could help you.” He is so thoughtful you can't help but smile up at him as he heads into the kitchen to turn on a speaker. "Thank you," you call after him. He says something in return, but you can't hear his soft voice from the other room. especially now that the light sound of acoustic guitars begins to play from the speaker.

He comes back with a shy but proud smile. "I found a playlist for studying, I hope it can help you finish.” “Have I ever told you how amazing you are?” you coo up at him. The words are simple but they are powerful enough to make his cheeks turn pink and his knees shake underneath him. "It's nothing," he says quickly as he pulls out the seat next to you. The warmth that radiates off of your gentle giant soothes the stress that radiates from you but after a few minutes of stewing, you let out another long series of sighs. "It's no use, I just can't think." you groan. Asahi looks up from the book he has busied himself with and places a Bookmark between its pages. "Still nothing?" he says "Yes, you say sullenly. "I just feel like nothing is coming together. Your boyfriend sits there quietly for a moment. His eyes are downcast as he tries to think of what he can do to help you. You know he would never tell you this on his own, but when you feel stressed, it stresses him out. You hate to bring him into the stormy waters of your psyche but it cannot be helped. Suddenly his slumped shoulder perks up and the light from his mental lightbulb illuminates his previously solemn features. "Let’s do something else,” he says replacing the line piece of paper in front of you with a blank one. “What should I do with this?” you ask not understanding why he is preventing you from just sitting and staring in front of you for the next couple of hours. “ Do anything you would like, that is you’re a piece of paper. If you wanna scribble until your pen breaks, you can do that.” He explains as you nod along beginning to understand what he is trying to get at. “I see,” you say taking off your pen’s cap and putting it on the paper. “What are you gonna draw?” he asks placing his head on your shoulder, his stubble tickles your chin and you let a little giggle slip out. “I don’t know yet, maybe a line,” you say drawing a little tick mark on the paper. “Very nice,” “And a circle,” you complete the motion. The more you draw on the page the more you feel the tension slipping out of you, The doodles don’t seem to make a lot of sense, but they cover the page. That is more than what you have done in the past couple of hours. You feel strangely accomplished. Wanting to give you a bit of alone time with the new piece of paper, Azumane heads off into the kitchen. You hear the bubbling of the kettle and realize that he just put a pot of tea on. He’s so sweet that way. Your mind no longer feels like it’s stuck at the bottom of a dry well, it’s almost as if you are slowly but surely digging yourself out of the rut one silly Penmark at a time. Suddenly you feel organized. Sitting up in your seat you grab the other sheet of paper from across the table. “Azumane, guess what! “you call in his direction. “What is it? Is everything okay?“ he asks poking his head over the doorway. “I’m getting stuff done.” you cheer as your hand seems to move on its own writing down word after word on the previously untouched report. “I knew you could do it!” he smiles warmly bringing a cup of tea and placing it in front of you. “I’m so proud of you.” “Thanks to you, I may finish this thing before the due date.” you smile, moving on to the paragraph. “That’s amazing,” he says leaning over your busy form and gently kissing your forehead. “When do you need the report to be finished?” “Next week,” you chirp. “A-are you serious,” he asks. “Yea, I just didn't want to wait till the last minute,” you smile, “is something wrong?” He looks at you lovingly and ruffles your hair. “Not at all,” he sighs walking away from the table leaving you to your writing.

[quinloki]

How about 22 for the self-ship prompts, for the ship of your choice? 💙

22 is: Write about a member of your ship giving the other a special gift.

I have a few ideas, I might do them all in short form (warnings for angst, canon compliance, AU, sappy shit idk what all I’ll do xD - sfw though!)

Gifting Eustass Kid

I put the last few finishing touches on the scrapbook and made a face. It was the best gift you had been able to come up with for Kid, but maybe it too personal.

Getting my hands on a snail that took pictures had been a trial and a half. Pretending to take up photography just to disguise my plans hadn’t been nearly as bad, and as a side effect I’d gotten pretty good at snapping pictures. Even managed to soften the flash so I could take day time images sneakily.

I’m the end I had a scrap book of photos from the last year. Celebrations, conquests, and even a few somber moments had been caught on film. Accented and documented with dates and quotes, and the best doodles I could manage.

It was personal. Intimate on a level I wasn’t sure was okay, but at this point I had put my whole ass soul into it, I might as well deliver it.

Wrapping it some cloth and tying it up I went in search of the Captain. Luck was on my side, at least with the delivery, since Kid was alone in his workshop.

I knocked and heard the customary grunt that wasn’t the noise he usually makes when he prefers to be left alone. Stepping in I hang by the door for a moment until Kid waves me over.

“What’s up?” He asks. “And stay back, I’m welding.”

“I brought you a gift.” I say, trying not to sound nervous. “A birthday gift.”

I can sense the change in his body language, but he keeps welding.

“Let me finish this.”

“Of course.”

It only takes him a minute to finish and he sets the torch up after turning it off and turns toward me. Lifting his goggles up I get to see the cheeky smile and the glint in his eyes.

“Well, you’re not wearing it this year.” He muses looking over me before settling on the package in my hands. “That it?”

“Yeah.” I hand it over and take a step back. I haven’t felt nervous around Kid in a couple years, but this is different than our usual little dance. It’s not like we weren’t intimate emotionally, but even then it had been in the small hours of the day.

He unties it and unwraps it. There’s a small twitch across his brow, but I can’t tell if it’s disappointment or confusion. The cover was leather with inlaid words. I couldn’t do it myself, but Wire was really good at it and he helped.

House was good at book binding, and Hop had helped me make the paper. Heat made the ink for me, and well, by the end of it almost the entire crew had helped, even if it was just distracting Kid before he caught me working on it over the last year.

His eyes never leave it as he slowly turns each page. I’ve only ever seen him so focused on his gadgets like that before.

“It’s… I … er, kind of sap-.”

“You made this?”

“The… the crew helped. I don’t know how to tan leather, or bind books or make paper and ink, but I took the pictures and such.”

“But you made it.” He asserts. “Decided on all the images and words, told everyone else what to do?”

“Y-yeah, that’s fair to say.”

“For me.”

I almost laugh. “I ain’t doing all that for anyone else, so yeah.”

“… Fuck.” Kid almost chokes on the word, and before I can ask him what’s wrong he’s set the gift aside and hauls me into a hug.

“Haaa… I was worried it wasn’t going to be well received.” I admit, feeling my face heat up.

Kid holds me in place easily, and I return the hug as best I can. I don’t know if he’s crying or blushing or what, but I know that at least half the reason he’s hugging me is to hide his face. Part of me wants to tease him, but this doesn’t seem like the time for it.

“… Happy birthday, Captain.”

Gifting Sir Crocodile - warning there’s some post Wano spoilers, so proceed at your own risk.

“What’s this?” He raises one eyebrow, regarding the humbly wrapped box I had set in front of him with some akin to disdain.

“A gift.” I answer with a smile. He’s not truly put off, I can tell, especially after all this time.

“I explicitly stated I had no desire to celebrate my birthday.” He’s trying to look irritated but I can see the smile tugging at his lips.

“This is hardly a celebration.” I insist, coming around to his side of the desk, leaning on the arm rest of the chair and giving him a smile. “I could just tell Buggy today is your birthday. I’m sure someone as flashy as him-.”

“Point made.” He grumbles, true displeasure on his face for a moment before he sighs. “Very well, I accept.”

I smile as sweetly as I can. “Well, don’t keep me waiting, open it.”

“Demanding for such a small thing.” He teases, reaching out for the package, and opening it. An emotion flickers across his face, and it’s confusion more than anything else. “My dear, it’s beautiful, but I have several cigar humidors.”

The oak box had a cherry wood finish on the outside, decorated in bananawanis and quill feathers. White and yellow gold filigree decorated it, and dark crimson, nearly black stain had the phrase “Desert Flower” on the top. Against the cherry wood stain it was almost impossible to read.

“It’s not for cigars.” I explain with a smile. “Open it up.”

When he lifts the lid it reveals a velvet lined interior, and a strong smoky scent wafts up into the air. It’s filled with tea leaves.

“It’s a tea box. It’s designed to be mostly air tight, hence the lining. And the oak doesn’t have a strong scent, especially dried, so it doesn’t interfere with the tea’s scent. It’ll absorb them though, so as you come to enjoy more types of tea we’ll have to get you more.” I explain.

“But this is the first one you enjoyed.” I grin. “I think this is the tea that saved my life.”

“… You’re not entirely wrong, desert flower.” He admits. The expression on his face is much softer, and his arm sneaks around my waist as he pulls me in, stealing a kiss that tastes like his cigars.

At this point, it’s a flavor and scent I quite love.

“Thank you.” He says softly.

At that moment the doors burst open and Buggy walks in with a massive cake and an unamused Mihawk with him.

“You didn’t tell us it was your birthday!” Buggy huffs, pushing the cart into the room. “I can’t plan a proper celebration when I find out on the day of it!”

Crocodile growls and looks at me.

“This is not my fault.” I assert.

[thebookowal]

I am going nuts over Webzone (not sure about the logo maybe I’ll change it) you better grab some snacks because worst staying here all night

Ever since I created them and I got nothing on my mind except them…. I have already created a lore for each and every one of them…. And I even finished their main design. They’re on my doodle book, but just the heads…..( only one of them I wasn’t really relaxed about how their hair look so I’m not gonna show until I figure out the good hair design)

The members of Webzone

1-Vj : the eldest, and the one with the bright idea about the themes of their shows and concerts… Responsible for everything(he might act like he isn’t and he is really is (not /sometimes ) responsible)

2-Vl: the second eldest and the mastermind behind the idea of creating this band….. who also got the looks… and the bod…(he trains a lot /drinks, a lot of protein)good at cooking take care of their little brothers when vj is busy, take care of &&$&&&$… slushy‘s gossip friend and prank, buddy

3-Slush.y : “THE ‘Y’ IS SILENT-“ the third oldest hyper and got the good moves, but got an anger, problem short tempered more like….and…… have a drug problem(fucking weed) sarcastic…. Prank master.(a fucking beast.)

4-mk: the fourth oldest….. Got the soft voice…. Knows how to flirt… shy little dude.. do not let him in the kitchen (can burn water) a nerd likes to read a lot(secretly want to be a lawyer)… the victim of all slush.y work(pranks)

5-DJ: the baby brother….. got the groove and the lyrics and the background music…. Without him webzone is nothing.(because of the lyrics and the background music.)…. you wanna laugh? He’s your man… smile never leaves his face (blush)* ahm*… Can be straightforward sometimes….. knows what boundaries are (but not as a robot)….. sometimes he overwork himself….. to the point he never slept in three days…(job application )….(sometimes when he talk, you feel like he smoked weed.)(cannot quit cigarette…… but can reduce the amount of using) spoiled Little baby girl ✨…..

Now for the lore 😈

OK…. So…… let’s start with how everything collapsed…… because everything was fine till this incident happened….. and I’m not talking on stage….(I’m really trying so hard not to copy brozone ) this incident happens to be inside their house…. All the older brothers were pressuring DJ telling him that this concert they’re going to have it’s the most important concert ever because if they mention to impress one person through this whole crowd (this person is very important ) they will succeed…… so they asked him to make a song very very important song….. at the moment to hear its name you’ll hear Oscar ‘ award’

he was so pressured to the point he started to cry when they all fall asleep he didn’t slept for a long time and he can’t deal with this whole pressure thing. He does good under pressure, but the amount they gave him was not like usual….. until the next morning they were all freshen up very well slept and ready to hear DJ new song….. which he never wrote…… they asked him more like yelled at him. Why haven’t you wrote in the song?….. he screamed back for the first time in years…… he can’t deal with his pressure and he’s scared…. They had a very terrible fight. and the only person that actually went kept quiet (after he saw how stressed DJ was confused of course he was ) was. Vl……. DJ stormed. out of his room the one proceeded to go after him was slush.y…. Slushy did felt. pressure. That small little DJ.(who is a teenager by the way.) was having.

DJ secretly was preparing His excepted to art and music college application…. He sent it and they accepted him.(he was so happy he’s going to fulfill his dreams of becoming a DJ…… is going to be hard to find a job….. but at least he’s going to be he always wanted to be)…… so that night DJ was preparing his bags to actually leave for college….. He didn’t tell his brother which he got accepted and he didn’t even tell him he sent it already…… he wanted it to be a surprise (but then this concert showed up) He wrote a letter saying that he’s leaving and will meet when he is succeed in life…. And he left it in the living room on the coffee table…. And took one look and never got back again….. this was the end of WEBZONE

What actually caused them to leave was the pressure ….. and the fact they didn’t really wanted to hear what he wanted to be….. they all actually took it from having fun……to succession for money for fame… each one of them got blinded by greed…… until they lost their little baby brother….. this caused them to separate

The aftermath of the break up of the well-known band webzone

1-Vj: became a wrestler in an illegal arena…. he’s not proud of it, but it gives him money…… the man that will break your heart kind of material…. known by ‘poison smile’ got tattoo of his Arena name

2-Vl : open the restaurant (it got karaoke… and a stage to perform in) married a goth woman… her name is Lilith…. he got 5 kids 1 girl 4 boys . The oldest is a boy. The second oldest is a girl…. and the youngest is a baby named disc(you can say he’s a younger version of DJ by the action I mean) very chill dude….talks business…. financially stable.

3-slush.y : owns a party house(it’s a place where you’re going to party 24 hours every day) it looks more like a a nightclub than a house(and yes, it is his actual house)…… nightstand(to the fucking roof he lost track boy)…… the last person you go to for advice…. Actually loves slushy’s..(he actually loves to drink them all the time/he even makes them with alcohol drinks)….. smokes weed….. from where he got all that money?? answer ! scams boy(he plays 21)

4-mk : he became a lawyer. He is a very famous one too….. and actually… knows BB from a distance…(I don’t know if anybody remember this or does this person rings a bell)…. Actually, have a very stable lifestyle…. And love, criminal movies and yes, he is still a nerd….(try so hard to contacts all his brothers managed to only contact Vl…. and now he is his lawyer)

5-DJ the baby brother have become successful and heard about…… all over(he worked at the make a pizza Plex) he is a stable relationship with y/n…. Best friends with moon and sun (specially moon) doesn’t really speak to eclipse(eclipse is very distant from DJ) he got what he have always wanted and more(he doesn’t want his siblings to find out… because he doesn’t know how they’ve changed….. he just hope that everything happened for a reason and it’s probably for the better)

~THE END~ Did you have any idea how long this has been cooking in my brain?……. And I have been preparing some old pictures as well so as a small little, you know apology….. even though it’s not really a good apology

Baby DJ wearing Vj shirt

and here is a first description of how the siblings are now after the aftermath

[bisexualnathanyoung]

Throw This Away (If You Don’t Want to Talk About It).

Word Count: 1.5k 

Can’t think of any specific warnings besides talking about dick for a couple of sentences and one prostitution joke, but if anybody finds any more let me know. (I also added a little picture I made of what the note might look like, so that’s there.)

Mel has some time to herself in the morning and decides to write a note to Nathan.

I wanted to go back to sleep, but I couldn’t. I was stuck, staring at the ceiling. I was thinking about the dream I’d just woken up from. I dreamt about Nathan. I’d dreamt about him all the time. It wasn’t a sexy dream. It wasn’t a scary dream. I dreamt that he told me he loved me. It was so simple, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I laid there for a while before the alarm went off. I finally got up to get ready for work. I finished getting ready and still had too much time on my hands. 

I went into the living room, and there he was, sleeping soundly on the little bed that hid inside the sofa. He had his arms wrapped around his pillow and was snuggled under the blanket. 

He was so beautiful. Maybe he was some stupid, gross kid or just a lost young man relying on a hint of charm and unwarranted confidence he used as a shield. He was more than that to me. 

On the surface, letting him move in was a stupid, stupid idea, but he had nowhere to stay. I didn’t set out to open Mel’s home for wayward arseholes, but it quickly turned into me needing him as much as he needed me. We were both so lonely, and there was a joy I felt when I was around him that I couldn’t compare to anything else. I really, truly loved him, and I wasn’t ready to admit it. 

I sighed. I still had half an hour before I had to head to work. I thought about turning on the telly, but I didn’t want to disturb him.

 I stared at the wall and kept thinking about how close we’d gotten. I kept thinking about how he’d flirt with me. I thought about how we already kissed. I thought about all of these little moments in our flat. I wanted to tell him how I felt. I wasn’t going to blurt out that I loved him. I wasn’t even ready to admit that to myself. I just wanted so badly to be more than friends. He was mine, and I wanted everyone else to know that, but I was so scared. I was scared of the rejection. I was scared of the expectations. 

I shook my head and pulled my notebook out of my bag and began to doodle. 

I’d filled half the page with hearts. 

Oh, this is stupid. 

I turned the page and began to write something else. 

Hey, 

Hopefully I’ll be at work by the time you see this. Unless I haven’t finished it, and you’ve stolen my bag and journal. Which is also a possibility. 

I’ve never been great at knowing what to say. I just needed to tell you something. To tell you something without you interrupting or treating it like a joke. That isn’t me trying to be mean. It’s just sometimes I never know what to do with you. 

I know how to talk to you. You know how to talk to me. But not about this. I don’t know why I can’t just say how I feel. We’re best friends. I feel like I’ve known you forever. I trust you. We’ve talked about other stuff. 

But we laugh about all that stuff too. Stuff we’re not supposed to laugh about. Stuff I’ve only told you. 

It’s okay if we joke about people who hurt us other people. I’m just sensitive about this, and I’m scared you’re going to laugh at me without thinking. I’m sensitive about all of it. 

I think you’re so cute and sweet and funny, and I’ve never stopped thinking about that kiss. Every day 

I want to kiss you again so bad. It feels like you’re all I want. I really like you. I don’t know if you like me too or if it’s all a joke. I’d almost rather it all be a joke than you’d only want to sleep with me and not like me as a person. 

If you really do want to have sex with me, I don’t think I’m ready for that. And I have no idea if you’d be okay with that. I’d rather get to know you more first. Kiss. Touch. Love. 

It just feels like you’d laugh at a girl that says shit like that. That’s why I’m writing this. I could never say that out loud. I’m not some prudish little flower. 

I’m just scared. I’m scared you’ll run away. I’m scared you’ll laugh in my face as soon as we’re naked together. There’s part of me that tells me you’d never do that, but I don’t know if I should believe it. I’ve never had sex before, and the times I’ve gotten close weren’t great. I’m not inexperienced. I’ve seen dicks before, and I know my own body.  If you want a BJ or a handy, just ask. Or don’t. I’ve never tried to be friends with benefits with anyone either. I just want you to like me. 

I really want to be your girlfriend. I just don’t think you’d ever go for a girl like me. I’m not half as tough as you think I am. I still think you’re incredible. I love being around you. 

 You can just throw this away if you don’t want to talk about it. 

Mel 

I read it, and then read it again. And then read it a third time. Crossing out words. Rewriting sentences. Starting a new page. Crossing out that one too. 

I had it near perfect, then I read it again. I gently tore it out of my notebook and gently taped two pages together. I looked it over again. I started to fold it. 

My eyes shot back over to him as he made a small mixture of a moan and a groan. I stood there frozen as he kicked the blanket off. I was fully prepared for him to get up, snatch the note out of my hand, and then I’d have to run away. Forever maybe. 

But that’s not what happened. He didn’t even open his eyes. 

I probably should’ve looked away when his legs fell open. I wasn’t supposed to immediately look at the outline of his morning wood or notice the way those briefs couldn’t contain his pubes. I also didn’t want to notice the way my chest started to feel like it was on fire. 

I immediately crinkled the note into a ball in my hand. 

I watched him reach down, scratch his balls, then go back to spooning his pillow. 

I looked at the ruined note in my hands and sighed. I shoved it in my pocket to throw away and maybe burn at work. 

Nathan made another noise. I grabbed a pad of sticky notes, wrote “U R DUMB,” and smacked it on his forehead. 

He finally opened his eyes, “Owwww, what the fuck?” He pulled the sticky note off his forehead, read it, and set it to the side, “what’d I do this time?” 

I smirked and shrugged, “left the toilet seat up.” 

He wiped his eyes as he sat up, then yawned, “god forbid I forget to put the toilet seat down after stepping over four pairs of knickers, three shirts, a pair of jeans, and a towel because you can’t remember what a laundry basket is.” 

I continued to bully him, “when’s the last time you took a shower? You smell like feet.” 

He knit his eyebrows in offense and confusion, “yesterday!” He lifted his arm up and sniffed before pulling something out from under the covers. He pulled out a sports bra I’d left in there from last night when I’d taken it off without taking off my shirt. 

He lifted it up, “you’re probably smellin’ this. Smells like a skunk’s arsehole.” He threw it at me. 

I smacked it to the side. 

He stretched and ran a hand through his hair, “anyway, the fuck’d you wake me up for?” 

“Just letting you know I’m going t’ work,” I said. 

“Oh,” he said, “good. We need money. We’re out of everything.” 

“Did you look at the flyers I grabbed from the community centre?” I asked. 

“Yeah,” he said, a bit defeated, “nobody’s interested.” 

“Well,” I responded, “you’ll find something. Everyone around here’s right desperate.”  

He shrugged and started to snuggle back into his bed, “yeah. Thanks for the motivation.” 

“I guess I’m off,” I said, shoving my notebook back into my bag and throwing my bag over my shoulder. 

I was half way out of the door when he said, “bye, baby.” 

I spun around, “what’d you just call me?” 

“I said bye, bitch! Go make me some money before I hafta start workin’ the corner!” he responded. 

I let out a small laugh and shook my head, “okay, bye.” 

I shut the door and turned around to lock it behind me. I lightly hit my head up against the door. 

Ugh. 

[lunashiba]

A bit of a redesign for Morgan, first posted on 7-13-2022. I was very, very happy with how this piece turned out actually! It was my first time using a binary brush, so I had a small bit of a learning curve with this one. I usually paint and render, so I feel pretty uncomfortable with cell shading (but this time, it ended up alright). I’ll put some processes and such below, along with some more backstory and thoughts, if anybody is interested.

A minion is dangling on her tail on the bottom right.

Above are the sketches and WIPs I had leading up to the finished piece. I really liked these sketches, but ended up deciding to fully draw out one. Morgan was actually one of my first OCs, but her design has changed a lot over time. Back when I first started to draw, I thought that OCs were a bit too far out for me- I only ever envisioned myself as a fan artist. Nowadays, it’s quite the opposite- I don’t think I’ll ever do much art of popular media and such except if it’s for friends. The friends I made when I first started drawing all had OCs though, and that was what eventually made me more keen to the idea of making one. In my mind, having a consistent character to grind out all the time would be helpful in building my consistency and speed, so it counted as something that would help me grind- not to mention all the art stuff that went into “designing a character”.

I used to be extremely into learning art in a very methodical, nearly academic way. Everything had to be very productive and effective- I had to make sure I was getting as good as I could, as fast as I could; otherwise I’d be wasting time. I think it’s pretty easy to see my mindset at the time being unhealthy, but I don’t know if I’d regret too much of it. I enjoyed finally having a “productive” hobby in my life. With my online art friends, we decided to altogether draw something of a banner, with all of our pieces lined side to side- with this opportunity, I decided to draw the first iteration of my OC, who had no name at the time.

3-4-2018

I think that this may have also been my first piece with color? Or at least, full page of color. I think I just referred to her as “the horn girl” or “the antler girl” and based it on some crazy deer stuff. I loved the little doodles I did to the side- It’s something I haven’t done as much. I used to make sure to always put a little scribble as somewhere as a joke for anybody who looked hard enough to find it in all of my pieces, but it started annoying me because I couldn’t ignore it once I posted the piece. After this, I tried to further work on my OC, opting for different colors.

4-5-2018

I liked this design actually, but it didn’t really fit my personality. I guess I don’t really vibe that well with smug characters. I like the outfit I designed for her, but I think it shows a bit too much skin- it wouldn’t really be something I’d draw nowadays. It’d take a bit for me to realize that NSFW art or anything slightly so wouldn’t really be for me either.

4-30-2018

Things started to get refined- I kept around the ponytail, and toned down her outfit. I remember being extremely happy with the satchel and the earrings, and I kept around the thigh highs. I still felt a bit unhappy, with the design, but I couldn’t put my finger on what.

10-23-2018

If you look at the dates, you can see that it took a few months for this current design to come along. I actually extremely adore this design, and I don’t think I’ll ever fully shelve it. Disregarding the hair, this is pretty much the final design of this character. This is the Morgan that truly lives through to today. I remember drawing the shoes for over an hour- maybe two hours. I worked a long time on the line art, especially regarding the shoes, making sure that I’d get it absolutely correct in both perspective and in geometry. Nowadays I’m much less of a perfectionist in some ways (though more in others). Morgan initially had more brunette hair, but I gradually transitioned to a bit more of an anime red, and I brought back the horns that I really liked. A particular artifact of this era of art was that I used to draw little triangles above the eyes, to symbolize the little wrinkles in the eyelids. I know I didn’t make it up myself, but I’m not exactly sure where I got it from. Now, I just draw the eyelid folds. From here on out, it was more just personality growths than visual design changes.

3-6-2020

At this point, I had been accepted into art school and engineering school. I couldn’t give up either of them, so I doubled majored- as a result, what I had to give up on was time. I stopped doing as much digital art for a while, so most of what I have at this time period can be seen in notebook paper or scrap paper. I was a huge workaholic, and it started to affect my health.

3-8-2020

Morgan is gay. I came to the realization that I was pretty gay too, at around this time, and I guess I wanted to show it in my art too.

3-9-2020

The day after. She is very gay still. Here, you can see the absolute beginnings of a tiny doodle of Soone. She’d be developed later.

4-19-2020

I found my favorite marker. It wasn’t anything special at all- the tip was running dry, and it was completely blank- I couldn’t find any trace of a brand at all. The terrible paper with the texture of the marker made it extremely appealing to me however, and I fell in love with it. I don’t know where it is now, but I hope I’ll find another terrible marker at some point to fall in love with again.

Bonus Soone sketch idea. I really like this design, but overall decided to not use it- or at least, not all of it. I don’t think it’s fully gone yet though.

7-19-2020

Morgan’s character design is basically completed- She is very gay. I think at this point, she was also trans, though it was much more unspoken. It’s a bit subtle, but I stopped giving her as much indication of having “a chest”.

9-4-2020

I did a bit more work with Morgan’s horns here. It’s nothing that stays around too much, but who’s to say it won’t come back? I think I stopped drawing horns like this because I was a bit lazy with horn rendering. Also, it made the design a bit busy. This outfit is cute though, and I like it as a general vibe of Morgan. She also has a tummy piercing.

9-12-20

A little in-joke between friends.

10-7-2020

A Halloween drawing. She still has red horns. I used to always draw Sharingan on everything as a joke, but it’s faded out a bit now.

1-15-2021

I treasure this comic a lot. In a way, it helped me cope a lot, as it was based on a true story. I love this design for Morgan, kinda symbolizing an earlier Morgan, maybe a bit earlier in her transition. It somewhat aligned with my life, and the mental state I was kinda living in. I want to make more comics like this.

1-28-2021

Small doodles I had lying around on another blog.

3-29-2021

I forgot I drew this until writing this post. This Morgan was a bit of a vision of how a more confident, future Morgan would be like. Regarding her future, I think she’d end up enjoying being a professor, and I felt the vibes would be nice. Who’s to say if this is canon or not- or if there is a canon. I like having fun. Her horns are red and have ridges as well. I’d like to imagine that she’s the type of professor to have photos of her wedding on her desk, along with photos of her wife and her cats.

6-14-2021

This one was for Pride Month 2021. I should draw another piece next year, since I missed 2022′s. This is probably one of my proudest paintings ever, and one of my favorite Morgan Designs. I want to draw her like this again. I dropped the horns being red also, and moved to a more white/cream color.

8-18-2021

This one I made while I was very sad. It took a lot of coming to terms regarding my family, but this sketch helped me out a lot. I didn’t have the heart to color nor render it however, so I had posted it as is. I think for all of us, many things change, but some things may always stay the same.

8-24-2021

A bit of a happier time- a bitter sweet smile.

9-03-2021

I started to draw more of my daily life as well- this was inspired from my bus rides, where I’d constantly be stressed about school, but simultaneously wanting to draw. I’ve also transitioned from drawing wired to wireless earbuds. Technology evolving is great.

1-1-2022

Happy New Year doodles. I really like all of these designs. I don’t know what to do with this like though. I could always say “Maybe I’ll turn them into Twitch Emotes since I have space,” or “I should make some Discord stickers with them,” but I think I already I’ll be a bit too lazy to do so.

4-10-2022

This was inspired by two adorable mannequins I saw at the mall- I knew right away that I wanted to draw them in these outfits, so I took a picture right away and started a sketch I never finished. It’s around this time that I slowly started to approach the Adventure Time methodology to characters. In Adventure Time, the characters always had such varying hairstyles, clothing, and outfits that I adored- differing from episode to episode. I decided that any Morgan and any Soone will still be Morgan and Soone no matter how they looked, and actually focused on less of a central design (though I still liked the central design).

2-27-2022

A bit more of a “Realistic” Morgan and Soone. I think optimally, I’d love to draw Morgan like this more. Her design here as a more androgynous character is something I really wish I could do more often, instead of falling back on the easier to draw very-feminine Morgan. I based this design a lot on the Fate character Enkidu, whose androgynous design I’ve fallen deeply in love with (specifically, this one, which is one of my more memorable adored arts that I can think of).

4-01-2022

Morgan but ACTUALLY more real. I couldn’t get the colors right, so I left things as black and white. I’m still extremely happy with it though. I initially posted it for this year’s Pride Month, but then mentally removed it, since I felt I’d rather have a fully complete piece.

[------ END ------]

There are a few more Morgan pieces here and there, but maybe I’ll place out a few posts with them, so that I can put out the process and WIPs separately. As it stands, this post has run pretty long, and ended up being a lot more detailed than I had initially planned for. I ended up finishing the draft for this post at 4:40 AM, though I had initially posted it nearly 10 hours earlier. I ranted a lot, but I think it was nice to type all this out. Not sure who’d be interested in reading all this, but thanks for sticking through. I’m glad that I was able to write out so much for Morgan though. I also hope I can draw her more often, and post her everywhere. I hope that other people also like her as well. I hope everybody has a great day and night.

Thank you for reading.

Luna