#might take a page from you and draw one pose and then have a bunch of different duplicates for the quill shapes

[starboykel]

an artist and his muse ⭑⚝

artist! König x chubby!F!reader

!!content warnings: nudity, suggestive but nothing happens, Konig is slightly cold and rude, shaving, reader is described as 'plump' 'chubby'. Slow burn.

3,6k words — english isn't my first language, I apologize for any mistakes !

You were the daughter of a model, your father in his youngers was a famous model, modelling for artists and his body was practically all over Austria, in paintings, portraits, movies, you name it! Every slightly artistic place you went he was there. He was more famous in Austria than internacionally but he was still famous, a bunch of people would recognize him even in a small country, that was sure... And you were an introvert.

You didn't liked the attention, how everyone's eyes were always on you, trying to interview you, to get into your personal life and invading your space. You never meet your mother and the fact you looked a lot like your father didn't helped, apparently, you mother was an immigrant that got deported back to her country and her DNA was nowhere to be found... So you lived all your life with your father, Anton. You were half Austrian and half whatever your mother was, you didn't looked like an stereotypical Austrian girl, that was sure but you also didn't fit any other stereotype, making your beauty unique...

One thing was sure, the few genes that were in your body from your mother made a difference. While you father was more muscular, you were more plump, chubby. You father never bodyshamed you but he did made your exercise but you could never lose the weight, you weren't unhealthy you just... Couldn't change your body and surgery was out of question, your father never needed one, why would you?

One day, you decided to try modelling. Starting at something small since you didn't liked the spotlights, you model for a local clothes store that were looking for bigger model and just your last name made them immediately accept you. You just took a few photos and done, you made great money and was happy.

You decided to buy something sweet before going back home, you get inside a ice-cream parlor and orders your favorite milkshake and some donuts. You sit down on one of the comfy pink chairs and starts eating... Then, this wall of a man walks in, he had a long wavy ginger hair, a tired expression and glasses on, he was handsome, you can't deny it. He orders some sundae and sits down, waiting.

He takes off a sketchbook and starts sketching some poses and expressions. You decides to be nosy and peeks on it but he notices and closes the notebook, "oh sorry- I'm...I was just intrigued... Sorry." You apologizes, thinking you might have made him uncomfortable but then his sundae is ready and he stands up to grab it and then walks out of the parlor. You sigh and goes back to your donut.

You finished and just then you noticed, the man had forgotten his sketchbook. You grab it and opens it, he had a lot of drawings there, that man had so much talent, hot and smart? That's your type. His signature was almost unreadable but you can make a few letter out of it and assumes its something along the lines of 'König'... Well, king. You assume it's just a nickname, a bunch of artists has those artistic names just to be easily recognized and such. You liked how that sounds, 'König'...

You grabbed his sketchbook and starts walking around the city, looking for him but you couldn't find him anywhere, he could've took an Uber and already be in another city and you were there, with his random guy sketchbook... You take a closer look and finds at one of the last pages, 'If lost — call (xxxxxxxx)' and then a phone number. You dial the number on your cellphone and after a few seconds, it's accepted.

"Hello?" "Hello, hm... Is this König?" "Ja." You gulps, this man had only spoke two words and you were already falling in love with his deep voice.

"Uh... You were at the ice cream parlor earlier and you forgot your sketchbooks, I'm waiting here on front of it, I'm with it." You explains and it goes silent for a while. "Scheisse..." Then, he hangs out, leaving you confused. You assume he's coming, so you stay there.

...

You get distracted by your phone, spending time on whatever social media you were until you heard a raspy voice behind you, "Hey." You jump in surprise, looking at the guy behind... It was the big guy, "oh hey..." You replies and he reaches out for the sketchbook, in which you give him.

You two stare at each other until you can see him frowning under the mask, "You're... Anton's daughter?" He questions and you nods, his eyes widen slightly. "Mein gott... You're identical to him." He says, a bit amazed, you were beautiful but he thought you would be somewhere else, at a fancier ice cream parlor, where the ice creams would be so expensive a commoner like him wouldn't never even feel the sweet taste of the cold dessert... But you were in front of him, at a mediocre at best ice cream parlor, looking up at him with your pretty eyes.

"Everyone says that, you're not the first." You spoke, smiling up at him. "Oh by the way, what's your name? I saw here that is König but-" "Call me that." "Uh?" "König... My name is König." He interrupts you a few times, making you chuckles. "Well... You aleady know my name." You replies and he nods, "Who doesn't?" He jokes and laughs softly, making you giggle.

You look up at him. He wasn't an ugly guy, no, he was quite handsome actually, his smile was even prettier, the scar on his lips was such a charm and his tired eyes were so hypnotizing... You noticed you were staring for too long and looks back down, blushing slightly, getting embarrassed. "Sorry- I-i...I'm just intrigued, you're so tall and big." You excuses, gesturing confused, trying to explain yourself. He shakes his head, "I don't care." He says, a bit harshly, "I need to go, delete my number. Bye." He starts walking away before you could say goodbye back and question why he wanted you to delete his number... But you do as what he asked.

⚝

A few weeks passed by after the unusual encounter with the scary big artist guy at the ice cream parlor. You went to that same ice cream parlor practically everyday after modeling but he never came back.

One day, you were walking in the park, just looking around, petting some cats here and there, watching the ducks swimming and then you notice that same guy, with a canvas, painting the lake with the duck. He had his hair tied back this time, he notices you at the other side of the lake and looks at you for a moment before going back to the canvas. You quietly approached him, you weren't the only one watching him paint, 2 or 3 more people watching, one of them with a child but you were the only one there when he finished, at 6pm.

He stares at it. He doesn't look like someone that likes what he sees as he frowns slightly. "I think it looks good." You steps in, looking at the painting, a gentle breeze passing by, making you shiver, "oh, I forget how cold Austria can be sometimes..." You says, a bit embarrassed. He doesn't even look at you as he keeps eyeing the canvas, trying to figure how what he did wrong. He stares at it for a few minutes until it clicked... The ducks, he forgot the ducks but it was already late and he had to come back tomorrow to try again. He starts packing his thing while you rambled, he wasn't even paying attention. He walks away without looking at you.

"Rude..." You sighs and whispers to yourself until another cold breeze comes and you start running back home desperately.

Your father was at the living room when you got back home, "You forgot your hoodie?" He says, not taking the eyes out of the book he was reading, "I didn't know it would be that cold today." You replies. "It was all over the news, tonight it's a snow night." Your father says and before you could reply, he interrupts, "The bathtub it's filled with warm water, go take a shower, you smell bad." He complains. You rolls your eyes and goes to the bathroom.

You grab your cellphone before stepping into the bathtub, you always liked listening to music while cleaning yourself — even if your father complained —, you put on your favorite playlist but then, you receive a message. It was the clothe store you modelled for the last time.

"Hey, are you free next weekend? We need you to model some new skirts, shirts and sweaters for our winter season." It reads, you reply with a 'yes' and they send you the informations about the time and place.

⚝

The week passed by like a minute and it was already the weekend. You got ready for the photoshoot, took a shower, the hairstylists fixed your hair and you went to try on the new clothes, they were cute and really warm, the skirts had warm shorts sew on them, making a good job on protection and keeping the person warm, the sweaters were cute and really, really warm, the long sleeved shirts had a cute print on it. The photoshoot was at the park, they closed an area of the park so you could take the photos, you were really nervous since a lot of people were watching you pose and the snow was making everything harder, the cameraman having to often clean the lenses even with the lense protection because the thin snow was getting underneath it.

Everything went well, the photos were pretty, you were amazing and the clothes were ready to be sold, you even got a few of them! You were getting ready to leave the park when someone approached you... It was the big guy from a few days ago. He just... Stared at you, he hands you a paper and then walk away, he didn't even ran, he just... Simply, walked away, leaving you confused.

You opened the paper and it was... A bunch of sketches of the poses you were making during the photoshoot and a big sketch of you, even the smallest detail of the skirt and oh god, how did he made the sweater look so comfy with just a bunch of lines? Your eyes were practically shining, impressed by the amount of details. You noticed a phone number on the back of the paper, 'call me.' it says. You think for a moment and puts the paper on your backpack carefully.

⚝

It was 10pm when you got home, exhausted. The day was filled with you and the editor of the magazine of the clothe store, he was a new guy there and was always asking for your feedback, the only problem was that he talked a lot! He was talented, amazing, but he just couldn't shut up for a minute and you had to listen to his annoying rambling for hours to the point you started having a headache.

When you got home, you took some headache meds and took a warm shower, cleaned your hair and put on your pajamas. You practically jumped on the bed, the warm temperature of your room making you immediately fall asleep.

⚝

You woke up at 7am Went to the kitchen and you found a note, from your father, 'I went to Mödling, gonna meet a woman. Take care of yourself. There's money on my room, be safe and smart.' it wrote. You rolls your eyes and sighs, your father was always like this, went to another place, minutes, hours or even days away just to meet someone, it always annoyed you but you couldn't do anything, you're in your 20s and he was in his 50s, changing him wasn't easy and he absolutely loved his car, you think he loves that car more than he loves you... But at 7am?! He was crazy.

Anyway, you made some breakfast for yourself, something simple as you were just going to stay at home today. You were planning to just lay around and watch TV the whole day, you really wanted to watch that new series on Netflix... But then you remembered the paper the big guy gave you and the number on it. You decided to message him while you ate, not really thinking he would answer you, it was 7am after all...

'Hey, it's Anton's daughter, the model girl :) how are you?' you sends and then goes back to eating.

It took a few minutes but he texted back, 'hey'... Dry and simple as always. You two texted for a few minutes until he eventually went straight to the point.

'i need a model and I saw you at the park, you're perfect for what i want to do, how much do you ask for an hour?' He sends, you were taken by surprise, he wants you to model for him? Yeah, sure, whatever, that's what it's paying for bills for a long time now. 'how much are you willing to pay?' '€30/hour.' you think for a moment, €30 is fine but you don't know how long it is going to take... So you ask. 'How long it would take?' '4-5 hours.' oh wow, that was a quick response, he probably already has all your questions answered and you're just wasting your time now.

'when and where?' 'today at 10am, at the local museum, i have a room for myself there, it has cameras, you can call a friend if you want if it makes your feel safer with me, I just want to get my work done.' another quick response, you send him a thumbs up and he answered with an 'okay'.

You finished eating, washed the dishes, did your bed, organized the living room and took a shower, you don't often shave but you decided to shave your legs, arms and armpits. Exfoliating your skin gently and then using the soft razor that was like a massage on your skin, soft and gentle, then moisturizing with a cream for post-shave that smelled so good you were addicted.

It was 9:40am, you got dressed with something simple, simple jeans short, a white shirt and some comfortable shoes and socks, everything so simple that if someone saw you at the streets they couldn't even know your dad is one of the most famous men in Austria. You got into your bike and starts riding to the museum while listening to some music.

You arrived at the museum at 9:57am, took off your headphones and headed inside, König was there, waiting for you. You two looked at each other. "Hey." You says and he motions for you to follow him. He leads you to a backroom, filled with art supplies such as empty canvas, paints, a bunch of brushes, chair and such.

He takes a deep breath, "take off your clothes." He says, shocking you. Like, you don't even know his real name and he wants to see you naked?... Yeah, sure, that's what being a model means. You nods and takes off your clothes, staying on your bra and panties. He stares at your body for a moment but it doesn't look like he's looking at you lustful or like something sexual but rather as something to be studied and adored. He nods and explains you how to pose.

He sits you in the edge of a chair, putting your hands on your knees, 'the palms down' he repeats, tilting your head a bit to the left side, letting your hair fall in your shoulders, placing the right leg over the left one and arching your spine a bit.

After 40 minutes or so, you couldn't tell the time, you started to get bored, he wasn't talking to you and making small talk was useless, that man was concentrated and didn't want to talk. "Hey." You say and he doesn't even look at you, "hey... Heeey!!" He then looks at you, sounding a bit frustrated, "what?" "Can you turn the TV on? I'm bored." He sighs and turns on the TV, putting on a random sitcom. It was good, too good, you starts chuckling and giggling at the bad jokes, smiling and probably ruining the neutral expression he wanted you to keep.

He shakes his head, "You seem to be enjoying yourself." He commented, not leaving his eyes out of you and the canvas. "It's not everyday i pose practically naked for an artist i met at an ice cream parlor." You answered and he even smiles a bit.

"Thats true." He replies and continues on the painting, after a few minutes, you opened your mouth again. "Do you work with your art?" You asks, he nods, "I do commissions, people pay me to paint then and I have my own little exhibition on the museum." He replies, brushing the canvas talentedly, seeming a bit more good humored.

"Do you paint a lot of naked people or is it just me?" You asks, smiling and König laughs a bit. "I've had my fair share of naked paintings, you're not the first one and probably not the last." He laughed but it didn't last long until his cold expression came back. His expressions change so quickly it's actually impressive.

⚝

You were getting tired, your butt was hurting of sitting down on that goddamn chair for so long and your hand was itching and the sitcom was getting bored, how long has it passes? 2 hours, 3 hours? Before you could fall asleep, König speaks, "We are gonna do a pause now, it's..." He looks at the clock, "It's 1pm, I'm gonna get us some lunch. Put your back on if you wish." He stated and put the brush and palette he was using on the table next to the canvas. You grab your clothing and puts it back on, it was good to put your clothes back on, you stepped outside and... Oh, it was snowing again and you didn't had your hoodie with you, damn.

You followed König to a cafeteria, it was a simple and cute little place with not a lot of people and a cheap selfservice. You got just spaghetti and orange juice and König... His plate was a mess, honestly, and he was drinking water. You decided to start some small talk, "How old are you?" You ask. "32." He replied, more focused on eating than answering you, you nodded, taking the hint that he doesn't want to talk but at least now you know his age. And you two got back to the museum after eating at 1:40pm.

⚝

Hours passed by like a minute and all of a sudden, he was finished with the painting and you were tired and it was just 5pm! He grabbed the canvas to the outside to dry while you put your clothes back on and drank some water. You went outside to the garden, where he was with the painting and you finally got a look at the canva... It was amazing, beautiful, you were mesmerized, your eyes shining but then, the cold breeze hits you again, slapping you out of your state, "Oh, shit-" you complained, hugging yourself to keep warm.

König looks at you and sighed, he approached you and took off his jacket and wrapped it around you, "I'll take you home. It's not safe to ride a bike in the snow." He says and leads you outside, you nods and follows him, putting on his warm jacket. He opens the car's door to you, what a gentleman.

You tell him his address and he starts driving, the bike on the car trunk, the warmer of the car keeping you two warm and a music coming out of the radio. It took a few minutes to get home and you the two of you got there, what was just a simple snow turned into a snow storm, you didn't thought twice when you insisted to visit him inside... But he refused.

"I can go home. I'll be fine." He insisted, "No, c'mon, I'll make some coffee for us, I- "I said no." He says, as cold as the snow, he walks away like the first time you two meet at the ice cream parlor. You were frustrated, all of that, he saw you naked, he payed for your food, he drove you home and he wouldn't let you return the favor? "Rude!" You shouts and he turns back to you, looking a you frowning, "What's wrong with you? I just want to help! It's a snow storm, you're gonna get stuck in the snow! Let me return the favor, König!" You shouts, the sound of the wind muffling your voice slightly. He seemed to think for a moment when he starts walking back to you and get inside your house.

König took a deep breath and looks at you as you locked the door and took off your shoes. "Why?" He asks and you looks up at him, "what-" "Why are you helping me? Why do you care?" He interrupts, sounding a bit desperate, damn, who hurt this man? "I couldn't let you freeze outside, you'd die." You replies, turning on the warmer. It was just 6:30pm and you were hungry and delivery was out off limit so you would have to cook. He nods and sits down on the couch, looking nervous.

You went to the kitchen and starts to cut some vegetables, he quietly walks behind you, "can I help?" He offered his help and you give him the meat, "Cut it, season it with salt and add it to the oil in the frying pan." You practically ordered, focused on the vegetables. He does as you asked, you two talk while cooking and you discovered a few things about him. He was single, served the army for 10 years, was an only child and was allergic to peanuts and some other things. His smile was beautiful and his long hair falling on his broad shoulders was so handsome... He was handsome!

You and König sat down to eat looking at each other, "Hm- you put too much salt on the meat." You commented and he smiles, "sorry." He apologizes. You two eat mostly in silence and it was already 7:50pm when the plates were empty and the dishes were clean. You helped König organize the guest room for him, finally fixing the broken warmer of the room with his help, you gave him a disposable toothbrush and grabbed a few clothes from your dad so König could shower.

It was 9:20pm, König was sleeping and you were on your room... Feeling a warm sensation on your chest, it was love, it was obvious but you don't know if he loves you back, he was so hard to understand, difficult to read. You took a deep breath and tried to relax, you fell asleep after some long minutes.

⚝

You woke up at 8am and went to the living room, you saw König getting ready to leave. He looks at you, "Hey." He says, "Thank you for letting me sleep here tonight." He added, you nods. You approached him and gives him a hug, "Be safe out there, okay?" You says and he returns the hug, in a bold movement, he kisses you forehead and smiles, "Bye... Can you open the door?" You nods, blushing slightly, you open the door and steps ouside, the snow practically melted, he waves at you and smiles, "Bye!" You waves back, smiling and blushing. You close the door and sighs happily, your heart beating fast, your face red and a dumb smile on your face.

Well, you have things to do, so it's best to forget him for now. For now.

┄┄ ︰ ┄୨୧┄ ︰ ┄┄

Askbox is open!

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

For Never Have I Ever, nude model Peeta, please!

Well. I've written stripper Peeta, and half naked Firefighter Peeta posing for calendars, but not exactly this trope? So here's a little something? Maybe? I dunno, I feel kinda indifferent about this one, but that might just be me in a funk. Hopefully you all enjoy it!

Never Have I Ever

<3 kdnfb

RATED E: explicit language, nudity, mild sexual content (sort of?)

“God, I’m so tired of drawing dicks,” the girl in the front row mutters and Peeta has to bite back a laugh. She makes his job difficult sometimes, but he honestly looks forward to hearing the girl’s supremely snarky remarks whenever he models for this class.

And tonight, he needs it. The slowly growing ache in his back tells him he’s been posing for longer than normal. Without breaking pose, he tries to catch Annie’s eye, but she’s distracted. Standing on the top level of the terraced classroom, she’s engrossed in a discussion with one of her students, who keeps gesturing towards Peeta and then tilting his head as if trying to make sense of his own drawing.

Peeta tries not to smile or laugh. His own days of trying to make sense of human anatomy aren’t so long ago that he’s already forgotten the frustrations, or the hilarity that sometimes ends up on the page.

Still, Annie not paying attention stresses him out. He only agreed to model tonight because his favorite former professor was in a jam. The model she had scheduled backed out just yesterday, and she’d practically begged Peeta to fill in, promising class wouldn’t go over time by even a second. He should’ve known better. He took this class with Annie, only a few years ago, and it rarely released on time. Not only that, but because it’s an evening class, Annie almost always lets students linger to ask questions or touch up their work, sometimes forgetting the models altogether.

He bites the inside of his cheek and tries not to freak out about the fact that he’s supposed to be somewhere thirty minutes after this class ends. He has an extremely important dinner date tonight.

“Did I say something amusing?” Front row asks, and Peeta’s not sure it’s even aimed at him until she goes on. “One of these nights, I’m going to break you and get you to laugh. I can tell you want to.”

He fights with his face, forcing his expression into neutrality, and she scoffs.

“Obviously you’re not tired of whipping it out for a bunch of strangers to examine proportions and crap. You’ve modeled for us how many times now?” Peeta hears paper flipping and bites harder into his cheek to keep from smiling. “Ten classes. I’ve got ten classes worth of drawings of your dick and your ass. Christ, if I wasn’t constantly shoving my tongue in her pussy, my girlfriend might actually start to get jealous of you.”

Peeta stays silent, as he’s expected to, but it takes some doing. He’s thought before about talking to the smart mouthed brunette after class. For non-romantic reasons, obviously. He’s completely taken, for one. Two, she obviously is as well. This isn’t the first time she’s mentioned a girlfriend. But she seems like she’d be a lot of fun to hang out with, like maybe their senses of humor could vibe together pretty well.

“Ugh stop complaining, Jo. Just ask Madge to pose nude for you one night. Then you can draw all the tits and pussy you want,” her neighbor mutters. The stunning blonde, who is probably a model of some kind herself, normally sits in the back row, but Peeta noticed her moving her things to the front row when he came out from the back room to take his first position on the dais. “I, for one, prefer it when Blondie here is our model. You gotta admit, if we have to draw a plethora of penises, his is rather nice to look at.”

“Ugh. Straights. Can you make it any more awkward for the poor penis poser?”

“And I thought you’d appreciate the variety of… bodily representation,” the blonde presses forward. Peeta feels his cheeks heating slightly at the reference to his leg.

“Still didn’t ask you. And what the fuck?” Snarky brunette snaps.

“Everything all right down here? Johanna? Cashmere?” Annie’s voice approaches and Peeta tries not to let his shoulders slouch in relief. But it’s short lived. “Oh, nice work on the shading this week, Johanna. And… Cashmere… it’s always interesting when students show some artistic creativity.”

Peeta wonders what that means, and can feel his skin flushing with even more heat, especially when Annie moves on and Johanna cackles a little. At least he knows their names now? Normally, being naked in front of a group of art students like this doesn’t bother him, but Annie is rarely shocked by what students produce. So Peeta is both massively curious and massively afraid of what Cashmere may have drawn.

“Alright, pencils down,” Annie announces, and her words are met with a flurry of activity as students hurry to pack their things. For his part, Peeta slips off the platform and shrugs into his robe as he’s leaving the classroom. He sneaks a glance at the clock on the wall and curses under his breath, making a beeline for the back changing room where he left his clothes and his phone.

Once he’s got his shorts on, Peeta snatches up his phone. He’s technically not late yet, so there’s nothing from Katniss. He fires off a quick text to her.

Had to help out a friend. Took longer than promised. Gonna be a few minutes late. I’ll pay for any appetizers you and your friends want until I get there.

You know how dangerous it is to tell me to order what I want…

Peeta smiles when the answer comes in quickly. He’s busy typing a response and distracted.

“Oh! Peeta! I thought you’d be dressed by now,” Annie says, stepping back and whipping the curtain closed between them again.

“Got distracted,” Peeta says and sits on the chair to get his pants on over his prosthetic. “Did you need something?”

“Um, well… I was wondering if you could do this again in two weeks? It pays double.”

Peeta pauses and hangs his head, remembering the syllabus enough to know what happens in two weeks.

Pairs. He’ll be modeling with another person, usually in intimate or amorous poses. Normally he wouldn’t care a lick about it, and would jump at the chance to bring in that much money for an hour or two of work. But last time, several of the poses were intensely erotic. Even if they weren’t, he’s not sure how Katniss would react to him doing that.

His cheeks burn and he yanks on more of his clothing as he admits to himself that he has no idea what Katniss would think of any of this. She knows that he does modeling work for art students, across several mediums, but he never really mentioned that it often involves him being naked or only partially clothed.

“I’ll um… I’ll think about it,” Peeta tells her and finishes getting dressed. “When do you need to know?”

“The sooner the better,” she says as he opens the curtain. She smiles at him and reaches up to fix his hair. “Good luck, tonight.”

“Thanks,” he says and leans forward so she can kiss his cheek. “Tell Finnick I said he’s a puffed up merman reject.”

She laughs and shakes her head, but Peeta’s smiling as he leaves. It’s kind of their weird thing, him and Annie’s husband, trading whacky insults they don’t necessarily mean.

He checks his phone again as he’s leaving the building, cursing under his breath and picking up his pace, hoping he hasn’t missed the bus, because then he’ll be forced to wait fifteen minutes for the next one. He’s already going to be a few minutes late.

When he reaches the bus stop, it’s empty, and just up the street, he can see the taillights. Smacking his fist on the panel advertising some kind of energy drink, Peeta curses and pulls his phone back out to text Katniss.

****

“I need something not phallic shaped to eat, right the fuck now,” Johanna announces as she flops into the booth and Katniss smiles at the second, and the last, of her friends to arrive. She taps her phone to send her reply to her boyfriend’s frantic apology text and sets it aside to focus on her friend.

“Would you stop complaining?” Madge teases and waves towards what’s left of the stuffed mushrooms they ordered. “You know you love that class.”

“You love anything that involves nudity,” Katniss reminds Johanna, and Jo snorts.

“Unless it involves dick overload.”

“You don’t have to act so disgusted, you know? It’s not going to gain you any brownie points,” Madge says and pushes her glasses up her nose with one finger. “We’re all fully aware of your sexual history.”

“You handed out Cliff’s Notes the first day of our friendship,” Katniss jokes and Johanna shrugs.

“I felt like you could learn some valuable lessons from my experience.” Katniss averts her gaze and spins her straw in her water glass. “Wait… I know that look. Fuck, no. Katniss!”

“What?” Katniss whines and Johanna glares at her.

“Tell me you’ve at least moved past kissing with him?” Madge chokes on air and Johanna’s gaze darts between Katniss and her girlfriend. “Oh my god you haven’t.”

“We’re taking things slow!”

“But why?” Johanna asks through gritted teeth. “You’ve been aggravatingly horny for this one for months now.”

“He’s had his hand under my shirt,” Katniss admits and Johanna shakes her head, moaning a sound that can only be called pained.

“Let her go at her own pace,” Madge says and soothingly rubs Johanna’s back.

“I can’t. At this rate, she’ll be in menopause before she gets dicked down.”

Madge rolls her eyes and Katniss purses her lips, fighting back annoyance at her friend’s insistence that Katniss have sex with Peeta already. 

She could tell Johanna that the last time they went on a date, they’d wound up in a secluded spot where heated kissing led to her unfastening her jeans so Peeta’s fingers could slide into her panties. She could tell Johanna how thrilling and terrifying it was, kissing him and whimpering into his mouth when he whispered questions to her. All she could manage were yes or no answers, but it was enough. She’d shattered on Peeta’s fingers and clung to his jacket, buried her face in his neck and moaned in exquisite relief as the pleasure unfurled inside her.

But she won’t tell Johanna, because Katniss refuses to let her friend demean or cheapen what had been a beautiful experience to Katniss. Her entire body heats to unbearable as she remembers the way Peeta had slid his fingers from her and whispered in her ear that, if she’d allow it, he wanted to taste her orgasm. That if they were at her place or his, he’d be on his knees, begging for the privilege of burying his face between her thighs and kissing her until he’s drowning in her orgasms.

“Can we not be talking about my sex life when Peeta gets here? Please?”

“Do you even know what a dick looks like?” Johanna asks and Madge rises to Katniss’s defense. “No, I’m serious. Have you even seen one before? As in, not a drawing in a health textbook or hospital pamphlet your mother made you read, but an actual, real dick.”

“Of course I have,” Katniss lies. Johanna can tell, lifting one eyebrow and scoffing. “Alright fine, no. I haven’t. What’s wrong with that?”

“Hold on. We’ll try baby steps. Not to brag, but my anatomically correct drawing skills fucking rock,” Johanna says and starts rummaging in her bag. “And this guy who keeps modeling for my human form class has got a choice looking dick, not gonna lie.”

“Thought you were tired of drawing dicks?” Madge asks, smirking and sipping her drink. Johanna glances up at her girlfriend and leans forward to kiss her on the mouth.

“So tired of drawing dicks.”

“Again, can you not be making me look at porn when my boyfriend shows up here?”

“It’s not porn, it’s art,” Johanna states in a snotty voice. “Besides, unless you’ve somehow found the unicorn of a man whose libido is as glacial as yours, I have to question a dude who is willing to meet your two best friends before he’s even so much as touched or seen your pussy.”

Katniss schools her facial features into a bored expression, but she must be off her game, because Johanna’s jaw drops and she makes an indignant sound.

“You’re holding something back! What happened? What did you do with him?”

Thankfully, Katniss is saved from answering in that moment by the sight of her boyfriend walking into the restaurant.

“Shut up and behave yourself, Johanna. He’s here,” Katniss says and walks ten feet away to greet him. Far enough that Madge and Johanna won’t be able to see them from where they’re seated. She’s not even a little ashamed when she slides her arms over his shoulders and melts into his embrace.

“Sorry I’m late.”

“I’m just glad you made it,” Katniss says. 

There was a part of her that worried that Johanna was right. That Peeta wouldn’t be willing to face the inquisition her friends would undoubtedly put him through when they still haven’t even slept together yet. She shivers slightly when his lips graze over her neck, awakening the hunger she’s felt more and more often around Peeta.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she admits only to herself that part of the reason she’s been putting off having sex with Peeta isn’t because she’s afraid it won’t be good enough, but because she’s terrified it will be so good. So very, incredibly good that she’ll be irrevocably changed by it. That she’d be handing Peeta the power to absolutely destroy her if it turns out he doesn’t care for her as much as she cares for him.

“Ready?” she asks and Peeta releases her. He’s smiling, and Katniss takes that as a good sign. He knows how important her friends are to her. Katniss takes his hand and walks with him back to the booth. 

Johanna is showing something to Madge, a stack of what look like drawings.

“Peeta, these are my two closest friends,” she starts the introductions.

“Oh my sweet fuck,” Johanna says when she looks up, and Madge spits out her drink, barely catching it in her hand over her mouth.

"Not on my homework!" Johanna says and yanks the pages up against her chest.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Peeta mutters. 

[ceiling-karasu]

I really thank you again for the compliments!

I actually wondered if the previous post was going to get reblogged over here, funny enough.

Yeah, I can see why you would really not want to even think about changing the codes.

I was drawn to the show because I like older style animations, but the actual effort put into the plot ideas was fantastic! It is easy to tell that the crew working on it was passionate in what they were attempting to do, even if the physics and animation are not quite right sometimes. They were doing their best with what they had, so that is really admirable.

One thing I forgot about with the transmissions was the numbers stations, which I posted about before. North Korean scouts communicate a lot through numbers stations, such as 11545 kHz (Lincolnshire Poacher in WW2), and with the static that occurs between programs with North Korea's international radio station Voice of Korea. They send through bursts of seemingly gibberish sounds or a series of numbers that would only make sense to the spy and handler assigned to the specific sounds and codes (which is really the only way radio static Morse code could work in that one chapter where it is used, I think).

It is possible for planes to pick up on these stations, so I hear, so stealing a plane would allow Geumsaegi, Juldarami, or Scout Goseumdochi to turn to that specific channel and input a coded cypher through the radio somehow. It is notable that in episode 6, Geumsaegi does not appear to actually speak the message, but instead taps it in while the narration translates.

So, it is possible that he was using one of the numbers stations. A channel of radio static might mean nothing to the Weasel Unit, but Flower Hill would have someone monitoring that channel specifically for such codes from specific scouts. The Weasel Unit could monitor the stations, but they would not understand the cypher.

Aekku, as the scout commander, might have recognized the codes as codes and have been interested in studying the ciphers and numbers channels, though.

Although, it might have been a shifting frequency tactic instead. You would definitely have a better idea of what any of them were doing with those planes and radios.

Alternatively to the numbers station, he could have shifted frequencies to one the weasels don't really pay attention to, which he would probably know about since he was the Guard Commander. It is implied that the weasels don't really expect much from Flower Hill (the mice Juldarami and Geumsaegi disguise as were sent in to see if Flower Hill even HAD adequate defenses), which is why they don't seem to pay attention to civilian air traffic as much (that hot air balloon drifting into restricted areas still gets me), and why it is possible for them to not pay attention to air traffic channels that are not important to them.

Of course, it is also suggested that it is not safe to constantly use the same messaging source, which is why the scouts' methods vary throughout the series. It does feel like using planes and the warship are emergency measures, though.

Why the tapping device was already flower shaped brings up other questions. But, then again, the Weasel Unit does not necessarily associate flowers with scouts. Juldarami is easily able to walk around with a scarf with flowers embroidered on it in full view, and no one questions it even when he is disguised as Mulmangcho.

“Squawk number xxxx,” if definitely something that could come in in a humorous scene, I am thinking. It could also be serious. Either way, this specific phrase as you put it creates a lot of powerful scenarios right now involving distractions, desertions, and information leaks that would not necessarily require its own story arc.

To be fair, an insider in FH's FIR office would be very simple. It was only Aekku's specific Tokgasi spy ring that was broken up and captured, after all. I feel like we see from the beginning that General Commander Jogjebi had his own ring of scouts consisting of Field Mice (could possibly be Japanese dormice, which are more closely related to squirrels than mice) disguised as squirrels, that very few people know about.

Geumsaegi is perturbed to find out about the existence of Field Mouse Number 6, who has been scouting around Flower Hill, after all. It would not be too far fetched for Jogjebi to have other scouts embedded around FH, and in the FIR office or even regular military ATC. And since Jogjebi is dead, they might as well stay for a while and help other Weasel Unit individuals escape or something. Especially since Geumsaegi and FH focus on Aekku's scouts, and seem to forget that Jogjebi might possibly have other scouts spying on FH, such as Field Mouse number 8 and others.

So that easily opens up disguised FPL plots, I would think. Probably Field Mouse Number 8, that hat he wears makes me think that headphones would fit nicely under there. If not in the AU, then some of us have been discussing him a lot and trying to figure out where he could have gone. At the very least, he is known as a loyalist to Jogjebi, so he would not have been caught up in the Tokgasi raids.

Some sort of Air Traffic Controller job kind of makes sense for him, I think, if his job is to monitor unusual increases and decreases in traffic. most likely, if so, then his job would have been to make sure Field Mouse Number 6 was able to come and go from the Flower Hill air base in his little plane, perhaps, since Number 6 was going back and forth between Flower Hill and Jogjebi in that plane. After all, the Weasel Unit ATCs recognize his plane, and if he was disguised as a squirrel civilian when he went to the festival, his plane might have been disguised as well.

The disguised helicopter later in the season doesn't have any such issue since it came from the Sturgeon base, and they only needed the jewel necklace to get back inside.

Although, I have the feeling that having a disguised aircraft around FH would not really be something that could be used often without raising too much suspicion. A surprise attack using that method, might actually require multiple scouts in the ATC to allow the plane in question to get close, and they would likely be captured afterwards if they did not die in the attack as well.

I feel like a disguised aircraft FPL might be useful in a background desertion plot (or just a headcanon about the field mice now), where weasels and mice could use it to sneak away from the Weasel and Wolf units in order to desert. I think Flower Hill would figure it out if they did it more than a few times, but they might just pretend they don't know and ignore the plane, because allowing it to exist might bleed the enemies lines dry.

I think that fits in more with one story I read about at least one group in WW2 deserting the army by doing exactly that.

Hi, just want to let you know that I’ve always enjoy reading your tags, it’s a lot of fun reading your clever insights and observations on my arts. I really appreciate them.✨

Your art improve amazingly over these past few months and I’m looking forward to the direction it will take in the future. I also admire your dedication when it comes to writing, finishing 30+ chapters series is definitely not an easy tasks and I think that’s really cool. \(^^ )

Thank you very much! I'm looking forward to completing another 30+ chapters series in the future.

I really like your art and how the color schemes seem to match the personalities of the characters. They always look so crisp with the right amount of style on character positioning.

I always thought it was really cool how you managed to have so much detailed backstories and world building, alongside managing to create pictures and comics to go along with the chapters and stories you write. It has been really inspirational!

Although, funny, enough, I have been thinking about asking you if you had any preferences on sources to start researching universal aviation codes and the differences in between civilian and military planes, jets, helicopters, and airships, and which you think might sound better when used by militaries vs civilians. I think I am going to have to do a lot of studying on IATA, ICAO, PAT, Mode-S, VFR, and transponders, as well as codes used in towered vs non towered airports. I feel like I am going to have to do a lot of study on aviation and plane/jet/drone schematics for future chapters.

[petricorah]

Thanks for the ask, @strrwbrrryjam ! i'm flattered that you think I do a good job of that, because I'm still learning! (and I also struggle heavily with proportions. I have to resize my heads and arms so, so much...)

I'm afraid I don't have any secrets. I think the answer is to just practice, over and over again. But specifically, this is what I try to focus on as I'm learning:

references

quick practices - 30 second to 5 minute studies that help with getting a full scope of the shape and energy of the body, not meant to be perfect

studies - deep dives into certain anatomical structures (videos linked below)

Below the cut is how I use references go from this to this:

References:

Use a bunch of references! Pictures you take, stock images, from shows--practice real people. Even if your style is heavily stylized, it all starts from an understanding of anatomy.

How I Use a Reference When I Struggle With Proportions:

The first step I take while looking at a reference is to just draw a very loose sketch with a line of action that goes then entire length of the piece, and I try to section it out. I find if I don't think about the body as a whole, and just start drawing a head, the head will be way bigger than the rest of the image. So my first step is just really boxy and basic, just to get all appendages on paper. My first pass could look like this:

Okay, not bad. But the right arm is going way too far down--the forearm is really long. The head is too big for the style I want, and the left arm is at a 90 degree angle, unlike the picture. But, I have the general scope of everything on the page, so it's easier to adjust and look at the full picture!

Then, I try to focus on landmarks. I look at where certain body parts fall in the reference. For instance, Blackbeard's right elbow doesn't reach his belt, so his elbow shouldn't be near his waist. I can tell that his left arm is closer to being straight than at a right angle, and I can see that his head isn't as big on his shoulders as I have. I can also look at the negative space and see that the gaps between his right arm need to be smaller. So my next pass might look like this:

(I don't usually draw on the reference image, and I just "draw" the lines in my mind, but the for sake of things...)

Now it's looking a bit closer!

The next is the harder part. It's making things shapes, and is closer to the lineart stage. I try to follow curves, separate the chest from the torso, get the angle of the shoulders and head, etc. I have some video links at the end that explain this step much more in def.

You may notice that the head angle is a bit different than the image, and the shoulders are a bit lower. Sometimes, following a reference image completely either doesn't fit your style or, in some cases, the more accurate drawing following a reference can actually look "wrong" (anatomically) when drawn. Figure out what works best for you, and for the message you're trying to get across in the piece!

[sliiiight flashing in timelapse]

And here is the final timelapse, with a little refining and polishing of the anatomy. Not everything is completely accurate to the reference image, but I've created a believable image in the likeness.

I hope this helped! This was a quick and dirty post of something I'm still learning. Here are some youtube tutorial artists, resources, and books that I use to learn!

Youtube:

-ModerndayJames has lots of videos on creating shapes and understanding anatomy, and placing people in perspective. He has a lot of free videos, and then some cheap ones on gumroad that go more into it.

-Proko has lots of videos on anatomy!

Practice Resources:

-Pose Maniacs - figures in different poses. You can move the camera around to see different angles.

-QuickPoses has images for figure drawing and quick gesture drawing! You can even have different timers.

Books:

Morpho Series. There used to be the one on "Fat and Skin Folds" that was a free PDF download that was on tumblr for a while, but I don't believe the books are that expensive.

Taco's Books, published by Lezhin. This is heavily anime styled, but talks a lot about anatomy, and is a great resource!

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Two (Part 2)

“You alright there?” Marnie says mildly as I wrestle to shake my arms free of my jacket. She’s already set up with her newsprint paper clipped to her drawing board, pieces of willow charcoal set out on the lip of the table. She’s got colourful elastic bands tying up bunches of her hair, and a mesh top that shows her bra through it, because at art college it’s completely normal to wear things like that and nobody will ever make a comment to you about it. 

“It’s warm.” I manage, just as I free myself and drape the coat over my seat. 

“If you showed up on time then you wouldn’t have to keep charging up the stairs like a mad woman” She suggests. 

“I know, I just can’t ever get myself together in the morning.” I don’t tell her that I’m so used to my mother having breakfast on the table for me, and now that I live without her, I can’t seem to wrangle myself onto any sort of consistency in the morning. I’m digging around in my bag for my drawing tools when our tutor comes towards me from the other side of the room. 

“You.” She addresses me like this all of the time, because she has no intention of learning my name. “You need to have yourself set up and ready by nine. We discussed this last week.”

“I know, Ida. I’m sorry. I’ll just be two seconds.”

She takes a step back and in the process and the heel of her chunky Creepers crush the plastic corner of my pencil holder. She looks down and shrugs. “Sorry.” Which she doesn’t mean, and somehow communicates to me with just that solitary word that my pencil case shouldn’t be on the floor in the first place, and if I was more organised and on time for class then maybe it wouldn’t be in fragments on the floor. 

Ida, our life-drawing tutor, is formidable in a way that you have no choice but to respect. She’s in her fifties with a severe bob cut flanking her high cheekbones. She’s rail thin and wears long, loose black clothing with loads of pockets, moving around in such a way that the fabric swishes around her like it’s in a semi-liquid state. When she draws at her easel she stands with her legs wider than her shoulders and swipes these bold, beautiful, varied lines across the paper, marking in forms with this mesmerising ease, and all you can do is stand there and watch the figure emerge from the page, lines and angles and form, each bone and muscle marked in with precise definition. She isn’t especially beautiful or at all affable, but there’s no man that has passed through her studio that hasn’t been at least a little bit in love with her. 

Today we’re doing a long pose. Which means the very nice model, a garda called Paul, is going to drop his robe and stand there for an hour while we draw him. I’m still only getting used to it now, twelve sessions in, because much to my horror upon realising it, Paul is the first naked man I’ve ever seen, and he’s at least forty years old. Thankfully, Paul is posing with his back to me today, so I don’t have to get into the detail of his face, or… anywhere else. I sigh and start drawing in the back of his head and the guidelines for his shoulders and hips like I’ve learned to. Then I loosely mark out his arms, legs, feet, and I try to ground the figure as much as possible, knowing now that a drawing needs weight. Form. Proportion. I repeat these words in my head as I sweep my charcoal over the newsprint. 

About halfway through, Ida comes to sit behind me and watch me, which makes me instantly nervous, but she’s completely silent and completely still, so after a while I kind of half-forget that she’s even there. I get engrossed in the muscles in Paul’s back, trying to imagine the way they might look under the skin. It sounds medical, but it isn’t really. We’ve been doing loads of study about muscle and tendons, looking at diagrams of each one and learning about how they move, and how they affect the body. We even had to watch a horrific video of a disembodied hand without any skin, white and bloodless as a doctor demonstrated how tendons work to move the fingers. Thinking about it still makes me queasy, but I have to admit that it helped me to understand. 

I feel as though my improvement has been exponential in the month since I’ve started college, so much so that I hardly recognise my own work. The things in my old sketchbook lack things that I didn’t even know they could lack, like intentionality, but I don’t look at my old stuff anymore for more reasons than just that. 

An hour ticks by and my fingers are chalky black by the time Ida leaves her seat behind me and walks into the centre of the circle where Paul is slipping back into his dressing gown. “Let’s turn our easels around.” She says, and we all do, all sixteen of us revealing the fruits of the last hour. Paul, as usual, takes a walk around the room to see what we’ve done to him, all the ways that we’ve uglified his body from every possible angle, but he looks pleased. 

“Let’s start on this side of the room today.” Ida says, walking towards my side, and then she stands next to my piece, and I feel my face flush. “Any feedback on this one?”

“It’s gorgeous.” One girl says after a slight pause. “I love how she captured the light on his left side, like it’s so striking.” I try to stop myself from beaming so that nobody knows I’m actually delighted. Nobody ever looks deliberately delighted in this college.

“I agree.” Says Ida. “And you can see this lovely fluid line here…” she starts speaking about my drawing using all these big, elegant words, swooshing her hands over the paper, painting circles in the air with her hands. I stand next to it with my arms behind my back, facial features carefully arranged so that they stay perfectly still and I look unbothered by anybody else’s opinion, even though inside I am leaping for joy. Ida likes my work! She says it’s energetic. 

Everybody knows how to express themselves here. They seem to have internal dictionaries of adjectives locked and loaded to use at the absolute perfect time to describe something in a perfect way. And they aren’t afraid to speak out, to respond to questions, or ask their own. Nobody in secondary school did that. In fact, interacting with the teacher was considered the least acceptable thing you could do. And asking questions? Admitting you felt stuck or lost? Never. I feel like as a result of that I never know the right things to say, as much as my head is swirling with opinions, as soon as it’s asked of me I am mute, head empty, unable to conjure up a single intelligent thing, and then eventually the person asking will just move on to the next student. 

“She’s lost the definition in his legs.” Dean Cullen says next, and my heckles instantly rise at the sound of his North-Dublin syllables. There is nobody more comfortable with giving their opinion than he is. “There should be more weight to them, I just don’t think that he looks like he’s leaning on them enough.” I feel my nostrils flare. Dean, the twenty four year old mature student who looks like he got every item of clothes he owns out of a clothing donation bin, always has something to say. And it’s always critical. The worst thing about life drawing classes three times a week is that he’s here. And even worse than that, Ida thinks he’s excellent. I suppose if you think big, bold masculine lines on everything are excellent then fine, but it’s not to my taste. He always smudges the charcoal around the page with the side of his hand too, and then gets it on his face and clothes. He never even looks embarrassed about it, wearing the smudges like they’re battle scars. His confidence in himself pisses me off. 

“Hm. Yes, I see what you mean.” Ida says with contemplation. “You think she needed more consideration here?” He traces an invisible line along the back of the figure’s calf. 

‘Yeah exactly. It just feels rushed and lazy to me, like she just scribbled something down just to get it done.”

I feel myself burning. I don’t want to be someone others think of as rushed or lazy. And I’m not! The nerve of him, I think. But I don’t express any of this. I keep my perfectly serene composure, and when Ida asks for my response I simply say that I agree, and that maybe next time I’ll think more about the legs. 

“That man is poisonous.” I hiss to Marnie as we pack up our things and head out of the studio. “Why does he always have something to say about my work?”

“I know.” She says. “He’s heinous. I thought your drawing was lovely.”

“Thank you.” I say. “And yours was too.”

She smiles blandly, never really interested in being complimented by me. “Do you want to get a salad for lunch?” 

I tell her that I do, and together we face the frigid November streets and trek towards Georges street where Marnie insists they have the best salads, even though they all kind of taste the same to me and afterwards leave me wanting something more. 

Prev // Next

[claypigeonpottery]

Heyyyyy~ I'm just... So in love with all the work you do, they're all so precious and beautiful I'm in tears. Thank you so for what you do, can't wait to buy something you made soon :D

If it's okei, can you please tell the story of how you got into this and how did you progress from being babie artist to now growing artist and how long you've been doing this for? What's your top 3 fav works you've done? Did you eat good food today, if not please dooo. Thenks

thank you! that's very sweet x3 I'm excited to get more stuff fired and up on Etsy, hopefully before the end of June

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choose three favourites of my work? oh, that is a difficult question.

one thing I really didn't like about my art when I was younger was that it was all very static. it was people sitting or standing, it was still life paintings. one of the things I'm really proud of in my work now is the sense of capturing a moment instead of someone posing, and/or giving a sense of movement

these two are just the opposite of static and I love them for that

and then there's this mug. the design is great, the details are great and I had so much fun carving it. it was honestly just delightful and I wish I'd kept it. I don't say that very often.

all sold

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I'm putting the rest of this under a cut because I'm going to ramble

I started drawing because I was making silly comics about me and my friends in grade school and through high school (I assigned them all fursonas because I was a really cool 15 year old lol)

I got a little more serious about art in high school, but I never thought it'd be something I'd make money at.

when I was... in my early twenties? maybe 19 still? ah, memory issues, I went through a nine month art program, the 'Urban Canvas' project run by SCYAP (saskatoon community youth arts programming). the program is meant to support young artists, especially those with mental health or addiction issues. and it meant I got paid to draw and paint and create weird shit for 40 hours a week, for nine months. and then some (seven? eight?) years later I got to go through the program again which... honestly I'm so grateful I got to do that. (and SCYAP still supports me, they give me a table at their craft show every year and helped me with my first solo gallery show)

these are some of the pieces I made during my time at SCYAP:

and two very rare pictures of me, posing with two of my master studies. the left from when I was 20ish, and the right when I was... 27ish? (man I'm still proud of that Gentileschi copy)

.

it was after SCYAP when I started thinking that I could actually make money as an artist. so I painted more than a dozen murals, drew a 20-some page full colour comic, painted pet portraits, and sold my own paintings. commissions were more reliable than selling my own work for a long time lol

as for how I got into pottery, my mental health uh... haha. it took a nosedive about six years ago and during some of the worst of it, I was severely agoraphobic. my mom, who has always supported my art, offered to take me to pottery classes with her, in an attempt to get me leaving the house at least once a week. it did help (along with a lot of other things) and once I started exploring the surface decoration side of pottery, things really clicked for me

.

tangent: one of the things that really drove me to progress as an artist was having something driving my work. whether it was preparing for a gallery show or making a bunch of holiday cards or making piles of fan art because I was obsessed. every time I made something, anything, I improved. so when I had a goal that made me create more, I improved faster.

my unsolicited advice: make that weird fan art. it's good for your art. (I was really into tf2 lol)

.

I've tried tons of different mediums and I think it was a great way to help my style evolve.

when you're making art with a new medium, it might take awhile before you're making your own personal work. I, at least, find that I usually have to do some studies of other peoples' art and just try some basic creations before I do anything more personal. but once I'm ready to do MY stuff, I have a new repertoire to pull from. I wouldn't be the potter I am if I didn't have the experiences I got from other mediums

like acrylics (I did a lot of self portraits >.>)

paper flower making

watercolour

collage

cake decorating

(also oil paints, pastels, 3D wire art, crochet, linocut, stone carving, sewing, set painting and quilting. also my spouse and I like to make crafts together, like cutting-construction-paper, gluing-pompoms-and-googly-eyes crafts, because it's just fun to make stuff together)

I'm sure pottery isn't the last medium I'm gonna try. I'll probably get obsessed with carving tiny wooden figurines or making wax sculptures at some point. who knows!

.

and now I'm in my mid-thirties, making art pretty much every day. I've been doing this since I was a teenager, so almost twenty years now.

I never imagined I'd be satisfied with my own art, that I could look at most of my pieces and not see how I could have done it better, but hey, here I am.

.

wow that was rambly. the ADHD really comes out when I'm writing lol. and I did eat real food today! before having some freezies

thanks so much for your ask, hopefully I satisfied your curiosity

[foxssonicdoodles]

my art summary for this year! first time I’ve ever done one of these, and holy shit the improvement is a crazy looking at it like this

(more yapping (fucking. ESSAY) under the cut)

man. it’s been over a year since the sonic brainworms got me (started October of last year with the snapcube fandubs -> snapcube frontiers playthrough -> listening to the frontiers ost and falling in love with it) and. Man has it been fun!! I’ve found so much good new music, art, artists, writers, stories, etc., and becoming a fan right when all kinds of stuff was lined up for the year probably helped too.

I do think taking the plunge and trying to draw sonic characters has aided my love for the series too, since in previous fandoms I’ve been in I would be excited about them, but being able to create for it brings a whole new level to my enjoyment I think. and, of course, this brought me to making my OCs, my most beloved little guys who I’ve grown very attached to over the course of the year.

now, not to yap too much, but, about the art I chose for the summary!

January and February were actually kind of hard to pick for, since my program (sketchbook) doesn’t include dates for when you create a new drawing, so I mostly relied on dates in discord servers and on tumblr for when I posted things. Technically the January drawing was made in December of last year (bc I genuinely don’t remember what I drew in January), and the February one I can’t be sure when it was made, since it was never posted anywhere. I mostly just estimated, and ohhh god looking through my old art was an experience. seeing how I used to draw shadow was interesting (I used to give him what I referred to as ‘prime eyes’, or, the eyes on his sonic prime model, rather than his game model). I guess I had seen more sonic prime clips/screenshots then game ones, and that worked its way into how I drew shadow. I do still kinda like the drawing though, I still think it kinda holds up. Maybe I redraw it sometime. I don’t have much to say about the blaze doodle though, I think I’m just proud of myself for trying with the hands (as flat as they look).

march! That one was drawn for a friend, who I had gotten into the snapcube fandubs, of one of my favorite moments in the shadow ‘05 dub. I added more to it here, but this was the original, and again, it’s certainly not bad! For most of this year, when I drew, I hardly used references, but this was one of the times I did, and I certainly worked in my favor (you can tell I was too lazy to do the emeralds though).

April’s piece comes from a doodle page I did where I doodled while referencing screenshots from the unleashed opening cutscene (UNLEASHED OPENING MY BELOVED <3 <3) and that was my favorite of the poses I guess, so I added to it and made that little drawing! I vaguely tried at a background, but it doesn’t look like much.

while I still see lots of problems with May’s piece, it’s not bad. Perhaps even a step in the right direction /j. I found I showcase of a blender model and instantly downloaded blender and the model to play with it, and I took some screenshots of some of the poses I made and used one as a reference for this drawing. Proportions could definitely be better, as well as some small perspective things I notice now, but hey! I lined, colored, and shaded something, which isn’t something I do often, even now, despite what the last half of the year might make you believe.

Speaking of which, June’s piece is the only one of the refs I made for artfight this year of my OCs and fankids that I think still holds up! It’s not great, at least by my standards now, but the best of the bunch for sure. I rushed to make these late in June before artfight started, and while I had more OCs lined up (early concepts of characters like hooke, joule, and peten) I only had time for four (team Starfall + axel). Borealis has since gotten a cleaner redesign, but I don’t mind his old design either.

Then comes July, the month of artfight itself! out of the attacks I made, I figure the piece I made of emthimofnight’s stellar was the best of the bunch. I looked for refs of ice skaters to find a base to create this specific pose, and while the perspectives are okay, I like how I did the shoes the most. Normally shoes are tough for me, especially perspective-wise, so I’m glad with how I did here. Actually looking back at this piece is reminding me of my thick lineart era, in which I much preferred using thick lineart and couldn’t possibly see myself doing thin lineart (though my comparison in my head was mostly like. Anime-thin lineart so uh. Yeah). I’ve slowly gotten to do thinner lineart over time, but not crazy thin, and you can even see later in the year, with the art trades that I went back to thick lineart, just a little bit differently than before.

I drew a lot in august, perhaps some of the most I’ve drawn this year aside from in November (most of it hasn’t been posted online tho, only in discord servers). and I made much nicer stuff in November too, but I specifically chose this doodle because of what it means for my journey. This doodle was a pivotal point, in which I tried something new and fucking loved it. I loved the sketchy style, the rectangular eyes, the minimal outline on the muzzle. Idk why, it just stood out to me and I’ve been drawing sonic characters like that since.

Going into September, school started, so I had a lot less time to draw, but it’s been more towards the last couple of months where I’ve gotten really invested in my OCs and their stories, so I drew them a lot around this time. at one point, I drew this doodle of axel (which I actually can’t remember if I drew it that month or not, I think I might have though??), and looked at him for a moment. and around this same time I had been looking at the idw art book, and been reminded of surge’s concept designs, one of which had a similar quill style to axel, and a stripe running down the face. which got me thinking, “how would axel look with a stripe?” So i quickly made a couple of versions, and consulted one of the discord servers im in about it. Eventually it got down to a version with yellow stripes (my personal favorite) and one with blue stripes. Both looked good, but one person suggested using both, and either the same person or someone else suggested a fade, and so I made a couple versions of the fade using this same drawing as my base, and eventually found the one I liked, which is his current design. To date, I think this is one of my favorite drawings I’ve done of axel, idk why. It’s not the most polished, but I love it, that’s literally my guy right there. yknow?

October! octobers piece is an art trade I did with st4rrzyy (just never posted it) of their character Hannah the bat! it’s not the only art trade I did that month, but I think it’s my favorite of the two. I chose to make the cloak all flowy, and give the character a dynamic pose, which isn’t something I do often. I actually referenced some sonic channel art for this specific pose, one of cream! It’s nothing too crazy overall, but there were definitely some new things for me, especially in that I got the courage to show interest in an art trade, and did something fully finished.

November piece, November piece I love you (I have not posted it). This was from an art trade i did with m3tr0n0m333, of their character Charr the hedgehog! This time around, I opened art trades in one of the discord servers I’m in, since I was on break for thanksgiving, and want even sure I’d get any interest tbh, since I’m not a big artist whose stuff is amazing or smth. But! Talking about the art itself, I referenced another sonic channel art piece, the January calendar illustration of shadow and infinite as singers, and yoinked shadow’s pose to give to charr, I felt like it fit well with them. Once my sketch was done, I stopped for a moment, and wasn’t sure how I would do my lineart, before deciding fuck it we ball and trying out something new. And I ended up loving it. It feels like I’ve gone full circle, coming back to do thick lineart, just this time it was with a different brush instead of my usual pencil, and I loooove how it looks. I also went ahead and colored in some of the lineart too, not with the most rhyme or reason at first, but eventually following my lighting/shading, putting harsh white highlights in places I lit up, and using the same color of a given area on a hard light clipping layer in some shadowed parts. Definitely my best artwork of the year, for sure.

and then for December (which also hasn’t been posted), I don’t actually have much to say about, it’s very similar to November’s piece. I opened up art trades and traded with someone in one of the discord servers I’m in (I don’t know if they’re one tumblr so I don’t know their user/the character’s name, sorry). I referenced a screenshot I had saved of blaze from one of the Winter Olympics games, and decided I wanted to go the same route as the November piece for the lineart. There is one new thing, though, that I implemented. I tried something new with the inhibitors, as I haven’t really been the best with making things look shiny up until I did some doodles of shade and tried with with just a pencil, and really liked the results and decided to give it a go here. It’s a step in the right direction, I think, but there’s absolutely more work that could be done to improve this skill.

Oh god that was more rambling than I thought I’d do. shit. uhhhhh if somehow you’ve spent time reading all of this thank you! thank you for listening to my wild ramblings, I uh. I like yapping about how I make things. Happy new year, and here’s to hoping next year goes well!

[chayscribbles]

chayscribbles’ monthly writing update ☆ february 2023

☆ STATISTICS.

words written: 11 606

projects worked on: Andromeda Rogue; The Gemini Heist; and a Third, Secret WIP

proudest accomplishment: i'm about halfway through with AR1 draft 2! and i finished like, a bunch of drawings

books read: Architects of Memory by Karen Osborne; All Systems Red (Murderbot Diaries #1) by Martha Wells;

☆ GENERAL COMMENTS.

why do i feel like i wrote a lot less than i actually did. like i looked at my total and thought "now that can't be right... there's no way i wrote that much."

things are going better for some wips (AR) than they are for others (GH) so maybe my head is cancelling it out lol.

reading comments: Architects of Memory was basically "a corporate war over alien weapons featuring messy sapphics in space" and i liked it but it wasn't quite a coup de coeur, 4/5 stars. All Systems Red was an absolute delight, 5/5 stars, will be reading the rest of the series once my holds on Libby come through.

(also i started reading Hell Bent by Leigh Bardugo this past weekend, and i blame it + it's precursor Ninth House for putting me in the mood to work on Third Secret WIP lately, as Ninth House is partially responsible for the genre shift in Third Secret WIP.)

more specific wip-related comments + featured excerpt below.

☆ COMMENTS: ANDROMEDA ROGUE (draft 2)

i'm about halfway through this draft! i've passed 40k this month!

things are going super well. when i have the magical combo of time and energy and motivation to write i can get through scenes pretty easily, now that i don't have to worry about overall plot as much. plus i get to add little things here and there to beef it up.

i've mostly worked on the second act this month, which is where the team really starts going through things together.

there's one particular Azami chapter right before the midpoint that's a monster of lore-dropping. i had to rework it several times as i had an entire page of editing notes to make sure everything is coherent... and i'm still not entirely sure i've gotten it right 😭

☆ COMMENTS: THE GEMINI HEIST (outlining / draft 0.5)

not much to say about this one. didn't work on it as much. the plot for this wip continues to frustrate me. i'll find myself coming up with little ideas for the characters and the world... but when i try to sit down and come up with actual scenes and plot, my brain turns to soup.

☆ COMMENTS: THIRD, SECRET WIP

this wip is consuming me. devouring me with its teeth. i'm surprised to find i may actually have a plot. turns out letting it hibernate for 3 years and tweaking with the genre has done some good.

i might cave and post an intro in the next month. stay tuned...

☆ FEATURED EXCERPT.

this is from the like, one scene i wrote for gemini heist this month. i just think it's funny. for context, Leo and Gabi are trying to get access to some archives in a university library, and are posing as students.

As [Leo and the archivist] talked, Gabi slipped her hand into the pocket of her ridiculous jacket. Her fingers closed around a small round device. She glanced around. While Leo was doing a great job at keeping the archivist distracted, the commotion had caught the attention of nearly everyone in the room.

Just be normal, she told herself. She inched her hand out of her pocket.

“Which archives exactly do you need access to?” [the archivist] asked.

“Art of the early Viheldan Empiric era,” Leo said. “My paper is on the Gemini statuettes.”

“Ah, that might be why. You need a special authorization form from a professor or another faculty member to access those.”

Leo pouted. “But my professor said he got access for me!”

“Perhaps you can message him—”

“Ugh— can’t you just call him right now and ask? I don’t have time for this.”

“Alright. I’ll give him a call.”

Shit. Gabi wasn’t ready. She fumbled to take out the device, concealing it as best as she could in the palm of her hand. All she needed was to place it on the archivist’s computer terminal without him seeing a thing before he made that call.

The archivist’s fingers hovered over the screen for a second before pressing an icon at the bottom. With a starburst motion of his hand, he expanded a search window and began typing in the name of the professor. Panicking, Gabi slammed the device in her hand onto the side of the terminal.

The already quiet room went completely silent. All eyes turned towards her. The archivist’s were wide and stunned. Leo’s were sharp and furious.

“I, uh,” Gabi sputtered, awkwardly keeping her hand glued to the terminal. The device whirred to life, vibrating softly under her palm. “I-I thought I saw a bug.”

☆ TAGLISTS. let me know if you want to be added/removed to any of them.

general taglist:

@nicola-writes @dgwriteblr @the-orangeauthor @retrogayyde @quilloftheclouds @ashen-crest @writeblrfantasy @celestepens @stardustspiral @pepperdee @extra-magichours @avi-why @lefttigerobservation @chazzawrites @bardolatrycore @innocentlymacabre

andromeda trilogy taglist:

@bebewrites @nicola-writes @dgwriteblr @the-orangeauthor @retrogayyde @akindofmagictoo @quilloftheclouds @nora-theteawriter @ashen-crest @corpsepng @writeblrfantasy @toboldlywrite @celestepens @stardustspiral @pepperdee @cheerfulmelancholies @extra-magichours @writeouswriter @cilly-the-writer @lefttigerobservation @rose-bookblood @drowsy-quill @chazzawrites @cynic-and-chief @enchanted-lightning-aes @aesa

gemini heist taglist:

@florraisons @akindofmagictoo @cream-and-tea @nicola-writes @memento-morri-writes @antique-symbolism @rose-bookblood @afoolandathief @pepperdee @avi-why @zonnemaagd @chazzawrites @analogued @enchanted-lightning-aes @innocentlymacabre @kahvilahuhut @celestepens @cilly-the-writer @extra-magichours @retrogayyde

[odos-bucket]

More Protective!Batdad Fic, With the Pretense that this is a Series Mostly Given Up

They’re returning to the cave after Robin’s first night out since the start of Tim’s parents’ most recent stay in the city. It had been a routine patrol, made noteworthy only by the return of the boy wonder. They’d gotten into a bit of a scuffle with some muggers towards the end of the night, but it wasn’t anything they couldn’t handle, and they had both come away from it unharmed. At least that was what Bruce thought at the time. And he paid pretty close attention to things.

But when the domino mask comes off he can clearly see where Tim has a black eye, and a bruise blooming over his cheek.

“What happened?” He leaves his cowl and gloves on the computer, and takes a few steps closer to where Tim is fishing his civilian clothes out of a bag.

“Huh?” Tim bunches up the shirt he’s holding into a fist, and his eyes dart around for a moment without settling on Bruce. “Oh.” Fingers of his free hand fly up to hover over his injured cheek. “Thief got in a lucky shot.” His voice is a fraction of an octave higher than usual.

Bruce’s eyes automatically narrow as he begins his mental recall of the events that had transpired less than twenty minutes prior.

“I didn’t see you get hit,” he says slowly.

Tim just shrugs.

The bruise is too dark to be less than half an hour old anyway. It had to have come from sometime earlier in the day. It had been hidden beneath the mask though, and they’d both already been in full costume when they’d met earlier that evening.

Before Bruce can say anything else, Tim is ducking into a private alcove to finish getting changed. He’s a bit slower at it than usual, and Bruce wonders if that could be indicative of other hidden injuries, or if Tim is just drawing it out to avoid further scrutiny. Several minutes go by, and he finally clears his throat.

“Tim?”

“Just a second.” The words come out quickly.

Bruce goes to change himself, only to find that Tim still isn’t out by the time he’s finished and returned. He knocks gently on the wall that’s partitioning off the section of the cave where he’s changing, and hears a soft startled gasp, before Tim’s scurrying out.

“Yep! Sorry! Sorry! Just a little spaced.”

“Tim.” Bruce hopes his voice sounds gentle. “What happened?”

“What do you mean? I told you-“

“Don’t lie to me. That didn’t come from just now.” Bruce pauses and sighs. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Tim shakes his head.

“I won’t tolerate you hiding injuries from me.”

“I’m not.”

They stand looking at each other for several drawn out, silent seconds.

“Were you patrolling on your own?” Bruce asks after a minute. “I’m going to find out if you-“

“No.” Tim sounds even less like his normal self when he cuts in. “I promise I wasn’t.”

“All right. So what is it? Did something happen during the day?”

As much as Bruce wants to know about it if Tim’s getting into fights at school, or somewhere else, he recognizes that it may not be his place to intervene if this wasn’t vigilante related. That’s fine (at least so he tells himself) but he’d like assurance that someone’s looking out for his Robin.

“Is it something you can handle with your parents?” He tries.

Tim’s eyes widen for half a second, and then he bursts into tears.

Bruce briefly freezes, before returning to himself and rushing to Tim’s side.

“I’m so stupid,” Tim is muttering, barely discernibly. “I’m sorry. I was so stupid.” The words barely come out between bouts of gasping, shuddering sobs.

Bruce wants to beg him to tell him what happened, but settles for reaching out a careful arm, and slowly pulling him close. Tim freezes for a fraction of a second, before melting into his side, continuing to mumbled unintelligibly.

“It’s all right,” Bruce tries to sooth, very aware that he doesn’t really have the voice for that sort of thing. “You’re okay.” He desperately wishes that he could offer some more specific reassurances, but he still doesn’t know what’s going on. “I’ve got you,” he settles for, running a hand through Tim’s hair.

They stay like that for a while, Tim crying, and apologizing, and Bruce telling him it’s okay, and wishing he could be sure that it was true. Eventually the tears dry up, and the breathing evens out, and the tense body beside his goes limp with exhaustion. Bruce doesn’t let go, not until he feels Tim starting to shift around restlessly. And even then he stays close enough to be easily collapsed into again, should the need arise.

“I messed up,” Tim says, after a few false starts.

“Whatever it is, we can fix it.” A ridiculous promise, and one that Bruce normally wouldn’t be making without more information. But somehow- without Bruce meaning to allow him to- Tim has joined the narrow ranks of those capable of inducing him to speak or behave a-procedurally.

Tim shakes his head.

“Tim, I want to help, but you have to give me something to work with.”

Tim is too focused on keeping his eyes dry, and his breathing steady to respond.

“Do you want me to take you home?” Bruce forces himself to offer, forces himself to remember that this child isn’t his, doesn’t need him the way the other robins did.

Another sob escapes Tim, and he buries his face in his hands. There’s a pang in Bruce’s chest as he realizes what he has to ask next.

“Did something happen at home?”

The question is met with heavy breathing, followed by a drawn out silence, and then, finally, a slow nod.

Bruce forces down his rising anger, as Tim finally gathers himself to speak.

“I don’t know if they want me to go back.” It comes out in a hoarse whisper. “Dad was so mad at me.”

Fury coils in Bruce’s gut, and lies in wait for his next question to be answered.

“Did he do this?” He gestures to the black eye.

“It’s never happened before,” Tim rushes to say. “Nothing like this ever has.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Bruce practically growls. Tim, to his credit, seems entirely unaffected by the intensity of the tone.

“I started it,” he says.

“… There’s no way that’s true.”

“Bruce,” Tim chokes out, leaning back into him.

“I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Bruce pulls him close like he could absorb Tim into himself, like if he holds him tightly enough he can keep him safe- as if he’s actually capable of keeping any child safe. This will never happen again, he wants to say, I won’t let it. His mind is racing. He doesn’t want to let Tim back into that house, doesn’t want to let him out of his sight really. He’s never been able to fathom how the Drakes can have this selfless, determined, brilliant child in their care, and be so willing to spend all their time away from him. He’s been wary of them from the beginning. But he never imagined that they could pose this kind of danger to their son.

“This is so stupid,” Tim grumbles into Bruce’s shoulder.

Bruce can’t disagree, though he’s a little worried that they aren’t on the same page about what exactly that means.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Tim continues after a minute. “I thought- I thought things were going well!”

“Telling me was the right thing to do,” Bruce says quickly. “If somebody’s hurting you- no matter who it is-“

“That isn’t what I mean.” He takes a deep breath, and leans back a little bit.

Bruce watches patiently, as Tim calms his nerves, and steadies himself.

“I… told Mom and Dad about Connor,” he breathes. “Not the alien clone thing, obviously. But, I told them that I was seeing someone- a guy- and I don’t even know why I did it! In the back of my head I knew there was no way it was going to go over well. I knew that. I was just, I don’t know, feeling happy, and okay for the first time in a while. So I thought-“ He shakes his head. “I mean I didn’t think; that was the problem. And Mom reacted the way I knew she- the way I should have known she would. And I got mad, and I started yelling at her, and Dad, when I yelled at her, Dad, that’s when he- he…”

Bruce’s heart breaks. It’s not like he’d imagined that Jack Drake would have a good reason for lashing out at his son, but this was nothing.

“I’m still not hearing anything that you did wrong.” He forces himself to stay calm.

“Trying to come out to them was dumb! I didn’t need to do it. They were leaving soon anyways, it shouldn’t have mattered!”

“No. They shouldn’t have hurt you,” Bruce says fiercely. “This is part of who you are, so it should always matter. It’s not stupid to assume that people who are supposed to care about you would want to know more about what’s going on in your life. Tim, you did nothing wrong.”

He runs a hand up and down his back, like he’d done when Dick had nightmares as a child.

Tim glances at him out of the glassy corner of his eye, and scrubs his hands roughly over his face, before mumbling something that Bruce doesn’t catch.

He waits for a beat, before quietly asking if Tim will repeat himself.

“They don’t want me coming around here anymore,” he says more clearly, voice suddenly empty. “They- they saw that interview you did a couple years back, where you came out as bisexual.” His face is tinged pink, ashamed to even be repeating his parent’s words. “So they think that I, I don’t know, caught it from you, like it’s contagious or something. But I didn’t know where else to go! And I- I don’t want to give this up…“ He gestures broadly to the cave around them as hiccuping breaths overpower his speech.

Bruce just holds on as Tim continues to cry, softly repeating that he didn’t do anything wrong, carefully keeping the furious voice raging, ‘those bastards won’t take you away from me,’ under wraps. He doesn’t let himself think about every other instance of his sexuality being cited as a factor making him an unsuitable guardian that he’s committed to precise memory, the vicious arguments that his children should be taken away from him, the fact that if he hadn’t been born so lucky in so many other ways they might have been. Tim doesn’t need him to be angry, Tim needs him to be smart.

They wait out the tears again, until they’re not falling so heavily, and Tim is shuddering occasionally, rather than continuously, and can compose himself enough to speak.

“I didn’t mean to dump all this on you,” he says once he’s mostly calmed down.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Bruce threads his fingers through locks of lightly tangled hair. “I’m so glad you told me what happened. You’re going to stay here tonight, okay?”

Tim is with them often enough when his parents aren’t around that they already have a room made up for him, a room which after less than a year has come to show more evidence of his personality than his bedroom at the Drake’s mansion.

Tim nods.

“Thank you.”

Bruce squeezes his shoulder.

“Do you still have pajamas here? Or do you need to borrow a pair of Dick’s?”

It’s something easy in a moment where everything feels impossibly difficult.

“I brought them with me when I went home.” His breath catches on the last word, and it only half comes out.

“That’s all right. Dick won’t mind.”

Now it’s just a matter of getting themselves upstairs. There will be more to worry about tomorrow, much more, and it will undoubtedly only increase in the days that follow. Bruce will have to figure out whether or not Jack and Janet Drake are looking for their son, and he can’t quite decide which the worse option is at this point. He’ll also need to make sure he understands what exactly is within his power to do to keep Tim safe. Bruce stops himself before he can begin preparing for the future too obsessively. He brings himself back to the present moment, stairs, pajamas, bed, all very manageable tasks.

He just really doesn’t want to let go of the child in his arms. The realization that Tim might need him more than he thought is overpowering, making him feel violently protective, and a little bit terrified.

Some of the strain of the moment breaks when Tim uses the side of Bruce’s arm to stifle a yawn, but it’s still a little while longer before they’re ready to head upstairs.

When they do, Tim wanders up to his room, where Bruce hopes he’ll find easy rest. He stays awake and finds Alfred. There’s a lot they need to talk about.

[depths-of-your-soul]

Hiii! I saw that requests are open so how about artist S/O? Like the reader would be very bored in class and they just, doodle todoroki, bakugou, and tamaki from afar with little notes beside the doodles like "i can't do his hair wtf is this" "why is he so adorable" "stOP MOVING I CANT GET YOUR HANDS RIGHT" and then one day they just saw the little doodles? Idk the thought of it makes soft- unless you already did something similar then I'm stoopid dhxbhxhd.

#Artist!S/o who doodles them during class

Pairs: Katsuki bakugou x reader, Shouto Todoroki x reader, Tamaki Amajiki x reader

Notes: I can personally relate with this s/o HAHAHA I always get annoyed whenever my subject moves around so much that it messes with the anatomy of the previous pose and I would ALWAYS get so irritated that I give up

A reminder that request is open y'all!! :D

Katsuki Bakugou

• Katsuki with his resting face is simply angelic

• You wouldn't think that such a person would cause such havoc around him

• And one of the few places where he has his guard down would be during class

• So naturally, you cry internally trying to draw his unnecessarily spikey hair because IT'S JUST ALL OVER THE PLACE  H E L P

• Where in the world does his hair even come from? It's just a bunch of spikes

• Does it hurt to touch? òmó

• Anyways, you just find his resting face so precious that before you knew it, you had 5 pages dedicated to just him

• And him alone

• Little did you know, Katsuki has been feeling your intense stares throughout the lessons

• 'What are you doing???'

• 'Stop staring at me stupid'

• Those were all in his head

• To be fair, you were being blatantly obvious

• So after class, he couldn't take it and went right to you with his iconic "ònó" face

• Swoopty Doodle Doo you have achieved "Bakuhoe fanclub prez"

• Seriously. That is embarrassing. Not for you but for him

• Everyone knows Katsuki has an 'above average' face (we all know he be hot)

• Expect curses and new found words to be thrown at you while everyone around hears of a daring fan who came out of the closet and presented their fanart to thy lord explosion murder

• It's not the drawings that made him embarrassed

• Oh no dear it's not

• It's the fact that YOU drew him when you could've just asked him in your free time at his dorm

• Truth be told, he might shout at you, but he never raises his fists against you when neither are sparring

• God please stop being oblivious

Shouto Todoroki

• Alright simps, let's get down to simping

• His face, oh so perfect

• Every nook and cranny, it's so beautiful that we cannot explain it in words

• His scar? Merely an addition to his hot and cool nickname

• Those red burns in contrast to his beautiful arctic coloured eyes tells a story that made him for who he is

• Such fine hair strands that flows oh so serene against the gentle breeze that flew great lengths to bless him with their cool element

• Okay I'll stop-

• Shouto is simply a living statue, it's in his genes

• He knows he doesn't look bad but that doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate compliments

• Drawing him will literally be a blessing in and of itself

• Such art should be loved by all forms

• Unlike Bakugou, he won't pretend to not feel your gazes

• He will make eye contact with you at some point and smile at you as a form of greeting

• HAVE YOU SEEN HIS SMILE

• Being so pretty is a sin

• After class, he would go up to you and ask what you are doing

• After you tell him and apologize, he will assure you that he doesn't mind and that he appreciates it

• He will however ask that you let him see it afterwards

• Of course, that is only because he wants to spend time with you

• This mochi is so cute I love him uwu

Tamaki Amajiki

• Don't lie to me

• I know you can see how cute and adorable he is

• His elven ear is his icon

• Your sketches have certain details that never fails to be missed - it's those blush at his ears and the way his mouth seem to always be pursed

• But then again, throughout your sketches, you would constantly go "OMAGAD STOO BEING SO CUTE I CANT HANDLE THIS CUTENESS OVERLOAD" and "Babey I love you but PLEASE stop moving"

• Those frustrations are worth it though, you know love it

• The way he stares off into space at times are the best times to sketch those details

• He may accidentally see you looking at him while he tries to glance at you from time to time

• But that doesn't really do anything except for the fact that his face will burn and he might cover his face out of embarrassment

• To be fair, you know you love seeing that side of him

• It just makes anyone go \(>w<)/

• Honestly, his movements are joy in and off itself

• This babey elf does enjoy the fact that you, too, glances at him

• Though he will admit, the attention does get a bit too much at times

• He won't go up to you after class though, he will instead hide in the comfort of Mirio's presence seeing as he might melt if you stare at him too much

• How did he find out you ask? Well, simple

• It's the cliche bumbparoo. But not with Tamaki oh no my dear not with this elven baby

• Mirio was too busy laughing and accidentally bumped into you... And voila you sketchbook went flying to the wall and opened at one of the countless pages of Tamaki

• Of course he saw, my dear. But... He may or may not have fainted from the affection

• Go talk to him! He may be shy, but he will be so glad that you even look at him

• I love this elf uwu

[placesyoucallhome]

@koysmods

Oooh, big topic

Gonna be honest, I feel like I still struggle with it, I struggle with a lot of drawing, but I know I used to struggle with it more not terribly long ago. My biggest, most important tip is one absolutely no one wants to hear (and is not directed at anyone in particular except maybe myself):

you 👏 are 👏 not 👏 above 👏 practice 👏

And the best way to practice is figure drawing. There's sites out there that will give you timed figures to sketch, and those are great! But honestly you can also just google 'shirtless male models', especially if what you're looking to understand is leaner masculine figures. What you have to understand while doing figure drawing though, is you cannot spend more than like, 10 mins on each figure. Churn through them, don't fiddle with details, if you don't like it erase or move on.

This is from like, 1-2 years ago now, when I was doing that very thing. I wasn't messing with hands, or legs, or faces, I focused in on arms and chest and that's it. I've done the same with hands, and faces, and legs, but honestly this is the only page of doodles I can find haha. The faster you go, the more you can include, like doing full figures, but there's nothing wrong with focusing on one aspect at a time.

Also don't be afraid to use posing programs. I promise you it isn't cheating. Clip studio has one built in and it's fantastic for those really gd weird poses, or when you're still figuring out proportions between characters, or today foreshortening just decided to be a dick. Your goal isn't to trace over things, but to use it as a guideline, a loose outline of where pieces should land.

These two things are how I taught myself how to draw the male figure, over the course of about 2 years. But if you want more targeted tips-

The male body is far rounder than you might initially think, muscles don't exist in sharp corners after all, things push and pull as much as a feminine body does, they can be just as soft and squishy.

Pecs will probably look like boobs to you for a while while you figure out how to draw them, and honestly they really aren't that different when it comes down to it, just flatter.

Arm muscles have a lot of shape to them! The shoulder down to the bicep is almost a teardrop shape, muscles curve into the point of the elbow.

There's a lot of shape without explicit outline when it comes to abs, practice drawing the shapes, but know that a lot of it can be done with just a little shading.

Study musculature and anatomy pictures, understanding how the muscles lay, where they attach and stretch and bunch up, that's key to figuring out how the more dynamic poses work.

Find the connections. The top of the shoulder slides into the collarbone, the armpit flows into both the pecs and the separation of the deltoid and bicep.

Start with a skeleton, not like, drawing out a literal skeleton, but the block out body shapes, the line of action, focus on a recognizable silhouette

And practice. 90% of my drawings are doodles that take a half hour or less, and yeah I don't post most of them, plenty I don't even save. Just doodle, and doodle, and doodle, that's the only surefire, 100% way to get better. Gotta suck at it before you can start understanding it.

[facets-and-rainbows]

Blue Exorcist 10th anniversary book Q&A session

The 10th anniversary book has a section where Katoh answers 100 questions submitted by fans on Twitter, so here they are translated/paraphrased! May contain manga spoilers up to the recent flashback arc, so be warned.

(Note that I’m playing it very fast and loose here because there are A HUNDRED OF THEM, so not exact wordings, but it should capture the gist. Lemme know if there are any you want elaborated on)

1. Katoh likes the feel of traditional drawing more than digital but is impressed with how far digital has come

2. Meph THOROUGHLY ABUSES spacetime to watch all his shows and ensure that he gets all the merch he wants

3. Did the girls take all of Yukio’s school uniform buttons in middle school? Yes, they did (apparently it’s like A Thing for girls to ask for a button from their crush at middle school graduation, based on some sad movie from the 60s where a guy who got drafted as a kamikaze pilot gave a girl one of his uniform buttons to remember him by)

4. Rin's tail is about a meter long

5. There are tons of servants working at Mephisto's mansion. Belial is in charge of them

6. Katoh borrows from all sorts of neat real locations when making settings

7. Katoh identifies with pretty much all the characters the most! Except Lucifer.

8. Demon designs she's proud of include the impure king and hachirou, pretty much anything that was the main one in an arc

9. Katoh lists a bunch of her favorite musical artists/music she’s listening to recently: King Gnu, Official Hige Dandism, Kenshi Yonezu, BAD HOP, Sakanaction, Keyakizaka 46, Hypnosis Mic, Aimer, B’Z, Queen Bee.

10. Awww the rabbit manga that characters are often reading isn't just Robo to Usakichi, it's an even older one that she drew as a little kid

11. She likes industrial style interior designs

12. Rin and Yukio alternated who got the top bunk growing up, because they couldn't agree on it lol

13. Katoh cares a whole lot about panel layouts and speech bubble positions, might even be her favorite part of the process (it shows!)

4. Katoh does NOT have a mashou, lol

15. Rin has probably been practicing in secret so he can learn to carry stuff with his tail

16. Izumo probably got into shojo manga around 1st grade, her mom had some around the house

17. Specialty dishes: Rin - lots of stuff but especially nabe Yuri - stuff you can throw together quickly Shiro - stuff he learned from Yuri and/or cookbooks, alongside teaching Rin Yukio - Does. Not. Cook.

18. Can't pick a favorite place she's been on research, but there's no place like Japan

19. Kinzou's band isn't currently meeting because demons, but he's probably still thinking of new songs

20. Hardest characters to draw: anyone with detailed flowing hair. Hardest to write for: Lightning and Gedouin. She had to go read books about serial killers specifically for material for Gedouin, lol 

21. Suguro actually gets a dorm room to himself, though allegedly Yukio is technically assigned as his roommate, lol. Didn't end up that way what with Yukio being a teacher and also Rin’s whole...situation

22. Shiemi makes some of her own hair accessories! Cute

23. Katoh doesn't mind if you include stuff with fan letters but check with the editor first

24. Time for making each chapter: Planning/storyboarding: 1-5 days. Sketching: 3-5 days. Drawing/inking: the rest. Just...the rest of the time

25. Neither Suguro nor Izumo have dated before and neither is currently dating. But that's probably just because things were hectic for them! It could happen

26. Yukio breaks 5 or 6 pairs of glasses a year, someone get this kid a strap or something

27. How many spare glasses does Yukio have? Check the fanbook lol it's in there (dang it Katoh)

28. The demon she wants us to pay the most attention to is Lucifer. Because plot.

29. What's under the Order's big meeting table? It's a BOTTOMLESS PIT and if you fall in it you DIE that's what makes it COOL (laughs)

30. What are the job requirements for the angelic legion? Literally just Arthur liking you and inviting you to join

31. She WANTS to do more character profiles but just hasn't gotten to it

32. Rin's tail feels like a cat tail, texture wise

33. The "red Assiah fire" is literally just actual fire nothing special

34. Rin's current hair color is light blue fading to white at the ends

35. Thoughts on Rin's growth: she likes that he stays positive in awful situations and she also thinks it's very main character of him to face the past instead of avoiding it

36. Mephisto didn't purposely surround Rin with stuffed animals when he woke up after going crispy. Mephisto's bed is just Like That

37. Kurikara was based on a cool sword she found in a sword book, but that one was technically just a ceremonial sword. The symbol on it us a Sanskrit letter kaan (sp?) associated with Fudou Myouou

38. Kuro can communicate with normal cats and hangs out with them often

39. Sometimes Shiemi's skirt is extra fancy around the hem what's up with that? Apparently it's an optional accessory that comes with the skirts help I haven't noticed this and don't know any fashion terms in any language

40. When coloring, Katoh always tries to have an overall theme in mind ("emphasis on blue" etc) so it comes together in the end

41. Yes the twins are genetically related to Shiro because of Goro (she says they're like his nephews but I say GENETICALLY at least they'd be indistinguishable from his children)

42. Strongest mom of all the strong moms around here? Yuri! Did you SEE her give birth??

43. Are you careful about your own health Katoh-sensei? Not particularly! Her mom has had to bring her food at work sometimes! Don't do this at home kids

44. At the dating events Shura goes to, does she drink cocktails in moderation? Yeah, she probably downplays her normal drinking habits at these things. But normally she's down for just about any kind of drink

45. Lucifer just really likes oysters okay

46. How many pages of manga does Katoh draw in a day? If she's being good about self-care: three. Maximum number ever: TEN

47. Mephisto is one of those folks who can eat like a garbage compactor and never gain weight. Possibly because his body resists that sort of change the same way it resists aging etc

48. First food Rin cooked: fish burger type patty. Yukio's favorite things Rin cooks: fish simmered in soy sauce, yellowtail with daikon radish. It's fish all the way down

49: Did Rin ever get more monthly allowance from Mephisto? It doubled! He gets TWO 2000 yen bills now (rip) [T/N: That's uh, that's USD $37.26 a month or 33.10 euro]

50. Why isn't Rin more popular with the girls? He gets nervous talking to them, plus he's too oblivious to notice even if he DID have some fans

51. Why change Suguro's hair? She gets bored with keeping everything the same, and she wanted a visual representation that he was getting serious and going into kind of a training arc

52. Things Katoh pays extra attention to when drawing: trying to capture the feel of whatever she's drawing (like "that looks warm and soft" or "I bet that guy stinks" cough Lightning cough)

53: Does Rin take after Yuri more? (He's got her eyes!) Katoh tried to draw Yuri so she looks like both twins. Personality, too - Yukio has her smarts and Rin has her optimism

54: Do you ever wanna be like Mephisto? Well she'd like to be able to get away with just ANYTHING EVER, but no, let's not be like Mephisto

55. Konekomaru not only carries around a cat toy in case he meets any cats, he MAKES cat toys to carry around based on what he thinks the cats would like

56. How'd you come up with Shima? Go read the fan book!

57. Do the kids have Twitter/Instagram accounts? Rin - probably not. Konekomaru might be on some social media. Paku and Izumo are totally on instagram

58. Is there something Rin makes that you wish you could try? All of it! That's the whole idea! He's good at cooking!

59. Will we ever have a (G-rated) reveal of what ALL of Mamushi and her family's tattoos look like? Maybe! She'll think about it

60. Does Arthur have a repertoire of different hairstyles? Not really, he just puts some of it up on the top. Heck he might even have people to do that for him

61. If you wrote a shojo manga what would it be about? She'd have to do a lot of research before even coming up with a story, since there are so many style differences between the genres aside from just the subject

62. The other two of Mephisto's top 3 favorite foods: Cup ramen and....f-fried bubblegum?? Is that a THING???

63. Where do you start when drawing a character? Usually the outline of their face but if it's a complex pose/composition she'll start with whatever's in the foreground (like hands)

64. If Katoh could have a familiar, what demon would she choose? Mephisto. As the all-powerful author, she might actually be able to command him as a familiar!

66. If you swapped Yukio and Rin's relationship around what would change? not much, you'd pretty much have Rin going to the Illuminati and Yukio going to the past

67. Top 3 foods/souvenirs to try in Kyushu? Well she doesn't know what’s good CURRENTLY but when she was there she always used to like burdock tempura udon, hakata torimon (a kind of manju with white bean paste inside), and Chikae style cod roe. today I learned Katoh went to high school in Kyushu

68. Katoh listens to music a lot while she's storyboarding, then when she and the assistants are all drawing and inking they put various videos/movies and stuff on in the background

69. For all his hitting on girls, is Shima actually popular with the ladies at all? He's got enough girls in his life that he probably COULD find a girlfriend if he really wanted, but the double agent thing tends to get in the way. He still wouldn't be as popular as Yukio though (side thought/translator’s note: Shima would be proud of being number 69.)

70. Katoh has the ending planned out in a big-picture way, but there are still a few details here and there that she's fretting over

71. It's cute when the boys put their ties over their shoulders when they're working on something! Where'd that come from? She just figured a tie might get in the way and that seemed like a realistic way to get it out of the way

72. Looks like Yukio is getting some facial hair! What about Rin? They're both about the age for it, but maybe Rin can't grow a beard yet. Maybe a little peach fuzz here and there

73. Katoh's favorite blue exorcist merch? There were some exorcist licenses a while back, and the exorcist pins. Basically it's really cool that these little accessories she drew ACTUALLY EXIST NOW, LIKE YOU CAN HOLD THEM IN YOUR HANDS

74. Okay realtalk how long do we have left, I don't want the series to end yet? We're solidly in the second half by now but it's not, like, ABOUT to end yet

75. Katoh would be a Knight meister, based on what characters she likes to play in games and such

76. How many people in the whole exorcism cram school? More than you think! She doesn't give a number but apparently licensed exorcists also attend classes for new meisters, etc, so there's a wide age range attending

77. How's Arthur feel about, like, studying Taming on the way to becoming Paladin? He's at least mostly accepted that you have to use demons to fight demons effectively

78. Konekomaru started wearing glasses in his first year of middle school, so like 7th grade (more recent than I thought!) He has one spare pair, in contrast to Yukio lol

79. Katoh's current obsessions? Ghost/scary stories! She's even been going to live readings of them recently

80. Media Katoh consumes for inspiration? A wide range of foreign teen drama, horror/suspense, shojo manga, light novels, anime, etc. Special focus on things where two boys are in conflict or there are brothers involved

81. If they weren't exorcists what jobs would they have? Rin - chef. Yukio - doctor. Shiemi - uh, florist?

82. Inspiration for the design of True Cross Town? Katoh and her assistants gathered up a bunch of references, picked out stuff they felt matched the tone, and mashed them all up together

83. Did you use any references etc for the school/exorcist uniforms? She says she probably should have but she just kind of made them up before publication

84. Favorite part of drawing? For color pages, picking out a color scheme. For black and white, drawing in all the little details (though she doesn't always get time to lately)

85. Once again confirms the demon kings' weird hair is a representation of their horns. ADDS THAT PEOPLE WHO CAN'T SEE DEMONS CAN'T SEE THE WEIRD HAIR

86. Now that Yukio's at the Illuminati, where's he gonna get his Jump SQ and spare glasses? Well he probably never planned to stay for long, but hey it's a big ship and they might have an optometrist and/or newsstand there

87. Do you base the demon characters on any references etc? Not really, she just gets a general idea of popular demon designs and then makes up her own in her own style

88. Merchandise Katoh personally wants to have made: stuff that an adult could just use in their day to day life. Also, it's not gonna happen, but if her favorite figure brand made AoEx figures she could die happy

89. If Beelzebub's host body was a beautiful woman, how would Shima react? Would the womanizing win out over the bug phobia? Katoh replies that Shima would probably just faint from being near a girl that pretty, before the bugs even got involved

90. Will the twins ever get to smile and eat dinner together again?? We'll just have to wait and see!

91. What do you check at a "scenario check"? what's a scenario check man I dunno They check for people being out of character or the setting feeling off. They had a lot of these checks for the anime, but they also do them for the drama CD, games, and all that other stuff where multiple authors are involved

92. Why does Shura use baldy as an insult for people who are clearly not bald? She feels like they have some kind of metaphorical, mental kind of "baldness" and she's calling them out on it. Whatever that means

93. After Blue Exorcist ends, what do you want to draw next? She has SO MANY IDEAS, SO MANY

94. Did Katoh make up the Shinto chants that, for example, Izumo used against Gedouin? They're assembled from bits of actual Shinto prayers according to what feels right in the scene

95. Yukio reads the Jump SQ, right, and, just hear me out here, he likes gag manga, right? Does this mean he reads Salaryman Yukio? It's something he would read, but let's say that in the AoEx universe there's just a very similar manga that he finds oddly relatable

96. What do Yukio and Shima do in their free time on the Dominus Liminus? oh my god you guys this ship has so many amenities.  Yukio probably spends time reading in the library, which they totally have. There's also, like, a gym, and a movie theater, and a THEATER theater, all of which are free. Shima probably hangs out at the pool (!) and goes to the movies, and hits on illuminati girls, lol

97. Easiest character to draw? The ones with boring simple hair, lol. Lightning gets an honorable mention for ALSO not having eyes in most shots, but Rin wins--he was specifically designed to be easy for Katoh to draw because that's what you want in your main character

98. How do demons understand gender? They just possess whatever feels like the best match to how they feel in Gehenna, whether that's a man, or a woman, or a rat, or whatever

99. Where do you start when you're coming up with a story? She starts with character design and how the characters relate to each other. Currently she's just continuing an existing story, so she works on splitting up the overall plot into episodes and fleshing it out with scenes and information about characters

100. When do you feel most happy? She honestly feels like she lives a very happy life overall. Mentions noticing a lot of little things, like how nice her cats' heads smell when she cuddles them or taking a nice cold refreshing drink of water. There's happiness in everything. aww.

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

The second and third obstacles! And Mei’s first big showing, because of course. 

[No. 25 - In Their Own Quirky Ways]

Ochako, Tsuyu, and Mina are all standing still, staring at the next obstacle as Present Mic announces it. He calls the first barrier ‘a piece of cake,’ the notes that for the second, you fall and you’re out, so you have to crawl across if you want to make it. The obstacle, oh, nothing big, just the fucking Grand Canyon with the bottom encased in the goddamn void:

Despite all reasonable reservations about crossing, Tsuyu takes the leap (metaphorically) and starts creeping along one of the ropes, calling it a giant tightrope. She giggles to herself, saying this is her chance to make a splash. (God, a girl after my heart, I love her sense of humor between this and the USJ.)

Next we are introduced to our resident spark - I mean support course student, Hatsume Mei (abet we don’t get her name yet here, but she’s emphasized enough that it’s obvious she’s gonna be important soon.) He’s cackling a bit maniacally, talking about how it’s time for her support items to get the spotlight, calling out to the national support companies to look at her wire arrow and hover soles - the items she just so happens to be wearing, along with a few other gadgets.

Ochako realizes Mei is in the support course, while Mina is shocked that she’s allowed to have her gear. Mei points out to them that the hero course students get practical battle training, right? So in the interest of fairness, as long as they developed the gear themselves, using equipment’s just fine! In fact, for the support course students, it’s the greatest opportunity to show off their inventiveness and craftmanship to the industry! 

Mei cackles some more as she shoots off her hookshot - I mean wire arrow, the end impacting and catching on one of the pillars with a klang. Mei leaps off of the side of the canyon, again calling out to all the corporations to check out her ‘adorable babies’ while clicking on a button on her devise that starts reeling her in, as well as activates the hover function of her boots. Ochako and Mina are fired up, Ochako rushing to chase after while Mina continues to complain about it being unfair. 

Shinsou, meanwhile, is being a little bit creepy, just watching on with a slight leer as he just says ‘cool.’ Wonder what he’s doing here… hmm…

Up in the announcers’ booth, Mic states how they have all types trying to make it big in the sports festival. Aizawa, meanwhile, is just annoyed ay why ‘those idiots’ (re: the students probably) stopped moving. We then shift over to Shouto just reaching the other end of the canyon, with Mic announcing as such to the crowds.

Of course, it’s not so easy as that. Even as SHouto starts building up more ice to start pushing ahead, Katsuki is blasting in from above. Katsuki calls out, refusing to stay behind any longer, while Shouto just thinks that with how fired up Katsuki is now, he must be a slow starter. Which, man, I don’t even know if that’s just an observation about the quirk or if that was intended as a savage shot, but either way, I’m cackling.

We see Tenya somewhere behind Katsuki, watching the explosions as he pushes on. He says it’s very likely his brother is also watching, so he musn’t show an unsightly performance… 

he says as he does a T-pose to skid across the ropes with his quirk. Mic calls it unsightly, which like, dude, rude. Also, how did he know what Tenya even said there? I guess it’s just a little thing for the sake of humor, like the ‘drawn differently’ jokes for All Might. 

The crowds watching on are impressed with the performance of Shouto, talkin about how he just can’t be stopped. How quirk is awesome, but it’s not just that - he’s also incredibly athletic and perceptive. Someone else agrees, then points out how he’s the son of the flame hero, Endeavor. The first person(?) says that makes sense, the kid’s got the blood of the number two hero out there, after All Might. The pros are gonna be scrambling to get him as their sidekick.

Can I just say this is a very interesting panel here. Like there’s no reason we immediately know about to have it divided in two like this, but any amount of retrospect with what we learn later this arc makes it obvious: this is representing the internal divide Shouto places on his two sides, separating his fire from his ice. I also like how the mention of Endeavor here also happens to be on the fire side, further drawing attention to it and, subsequently, the scar there.

The scar that, incidentally, can be considered Endeavor’s fault.

I’m sure there’s a whole lot more Shouto and Todoroki family meta that can be shoved in here when analysing this panel, but we have things to do, events to see, arcs to get through! 

Present Mic announces how the leads keep breaking ahead, while the rest of the pack is bunched up. Since the racers don’t know how many will get to move on, all they can do is aim for first place! And the leader has just reached the final barrier - that is to say… the minefield.

...wait a second, ‘a deadly Afghan carpet’? Uhm, is that a translation thing, or… what a strange reference to make here. While it’s hard to make out the locations of mines from this page (at least to me), Present Mic confirms in his announcements that a quick glance should be enough to reveal it to the students, so they need to keep both eyes open and watch their steps. By the way, the mines don’t pack a deadly punch, but they’re loud and flashy enough that the kids might need a change of underwear when it’s over. Aizawa adds on that it depends on the individual, of course.

Meanwhile, back on the ropes, we see Izuku crawling along almost like a chameleon, the armor plating strapped to his back with some of the loose wire. In the background we see Shouji gliding from one of the pillars with his arms out wide, and another student  Naruto running across the wire like a champ.

You go, Naruto runner guy. 

Back with the landmines, we see Shouto realize that the positioning of the landmines puts whoever is in the lead at a disadvantage, since none of the mines have gone off yet, ergo meaning the highest chance of setting one off and losing time to the distraction. It’s all a big show, which I mean, you’re only just realizing this? Meanwhile, in the background, we see another student get blown into the air from one of the mines, and yet another (I think Ojiro???) struggling to follow. 

Katsuki, of course, decides to show up then, finally blowing past Shouto while stating how ‘this crap’ can’t slow him down. Which I mean, makes sense when his whole thing is explosions, these landmines really can’t be all that impressive to him. Katsuki declares that Shouto’s declaration of war was to the wrong person.

Present Mic gleefully announces the new leader, telling the mass media to get excited, since they love this kind of turn-around. (Definitely not a subtle dig at them, no sir.) He then announces how the rest are catching up while Katsuki seems determined to fight Shouto right where they are - Tenya has blasted himself forward with one of the mines, looking very silly, while Ibara is using her vines to test the ground around her (I think?) to allow safe passage. 

Gotta go fast (do do do do do do do…)

While Present Mic wonders if the two grappling for first can hold onto their lead, we see Izuku standing at the start of the field, watching the other students rush ahead. Tokoyami is again launching himself into the air with his quirk, Kirishima is just carefully picking his way through, and I can’t tell enough about the other students to see if they’re 1a or not, so… 

Izuku worries about how wide the field is, while we get to see just how many people are ahead of him on the field. However, Izuku seems to have a plan, looking around him. As the others rush onwards, and as Shouto and Katsuki fight with each other, we see Izuku hard at work doing something he says is taking a page from Kacchan’s book. He thinks about how he can still catch up as he throws himself forward onto a bunch of unearthed landmines, the plate under him and between him and the inevitable explosion. 

Nice. 

Izuku is sent flying over everyone’s heads from the force of it, much to everyone’s shock. Shouto and Katsuki both look back to see what caused it, while Mic wonders what could have caused such a blast, and whether it was accidental or intentional. As Toshinori throws his arms up in the air (panic or excitement?), we get one last look at Izuku, wearing a very determined expression as Present Mic announces his riding the wave in hot pursuit.

And with that, chapter 25 is done! What a point to leave off at. Next time, we finish the race, get to see placements, and (I think) we get the announcement for the second event. See y’all then!

[dothwrites]

worried Dean @ Cas: “I’m not bothering you, am I?”

---

It’s a widely accepted tenet in the art department that Castiel Novak is a genius. 

Dean first hears rumors of Novak’s skills when he’s a freshman. He doesn’t believe them at first. He suspects they’re overblown by groupies who are too interested in trying to get into Novak’s pants (not that Dean can blame them: with his shock of dark hair, ice-blue eyes, and delicate scrollwork of tattoos spiraling up his arms to disappear under the sleeves of his very tight t-shirts, Novak is a walking wet dream). Then, at the end of his freshman year, he’s busy setting up the annual art show when a piece catches his attention. 

At first glance, the painting is deceptively simple. A shadowed figure stands in the center of the canvas, his arms raised up to the sky. Around him are swirls of red, black, and gold, somehow blending into one color in the background. The more Dean looks, the more ambiguity he finds in the painting. Are the swirls of gold lifting the figure up or restraining him? Is the figure fading into the black or breaking free? Is the red coming from him or is he drawing it in? Are his hands raised in supplication or defiance? 

Dean loses track of how many minutes he spends staring at the painting, admiring the shading, the color, the symbolism. Transfixed, he reaches out to touch at the rough surface of the painting before he recalls himself and snaps his hand back to his side. 

“You can touch it if you want.” 

Dean whirls around at the deep voice, his eyes widening when he sees Castiel Novak standing behind him, hands tucked deep into his pockets. Castiel raises a pierced eyebrow at him. 

“Seriously. Go ahead.” 

Dean shakes his head, aware of Castiel’s reputation. “I can’t...we’re not allowed to disturb the artwork--”

Castiel’s mouth twists and Dean doesn’t know whether he’s angry or deprecatory. “Well, I’m the artist, and I say you can.” 

Castiel’s eyes rest heavily on him. Dean swallows, his heart picking up a rhythm that seems attached to the flick of Castiel’s tongue over his lower lip. Hand shaking, he reaches out to brush his fingers over the textured canvas. 

“It’s rough,” Castiel says from right behind him (when the hell did he get that close?), “because becoming is always rough.” 

And that’s how Dean Winchester decided Castiel Novak was a genius. 

---

As school and life continues, Dean admires Castiel Novak from afar. 

From what he can tell, Castiel doesn’t have many friends. He has admirers, which he ignores, and he has a few people who hang onto his fame, which he disdains, but actual friends? The only thing keeping Dean from volunteering is the thought that Castiel will turn the same withering look on him. 

Castiel haunts the art building and, as Dean continues delving into the Art program at Carver Edlund University, he does the same. Sometimes he’ll pass Castiel on his way to his studio. Castiel always nods at him, but it’s a companionable gesture, the same that you might give to someone at the grocery store. He never stops to chat, doesn’t even remove his earbuds. 

And that’s fine. So Dean’s harboring a crush that’s as much intellectual as it is physical. Plenty of people have crushes. It’s fine. It’s not like he’s obsessed. Not like he lurks around just so he can leave at the same time Castiel does. Not like he skulks through the dark halls so he can get a look at Castiel’s new project. That would make him creepy and pathetic, and those are two adjectives which certainly don’t describe Dean Winchester. 

After a while, denial doesn’t even taste bad, just a little bitter. 

By the end of his sophomore year, Dean’s accustomed to the status quo. He notices the light in the private studio allotted to Castiel (all senior Art majors get their own studios, but Castiel got the nicest of them), but he doesn’t stop on his way to his own (shared) studio. When he arrives, however, he screeches to a halt. 

His studio is filled to the brim with snotty freshmen. His personal workplace has been completely commandeered by a freshman with a (barf) man bun. “What the hell?” Dean sputters. He can feel his face turning red with rage. “This is my time.” 

Man-Bun pops his gum as he looks at Dean. His eyes are so hazy Dean’s surprised that he’s not deep-throating a bong at that very moment. “Um, guess again? We totally booked the studio for tonight?” 

Seething, Dean storms to the schedule and checks. Sure enough, there’s a long list of names on the door for the studio space. “I always have Thursday,” he protests, but it’s an empty sort of rage. “I’m always here for Thursdays.” 

Man-Bun shrugs, turning back to his psychedelic smattering of colors. “Not this Thursday, dude.” 

Dismissed, Dean gathers his remaining dignity, and leaves. Standing out in the hallway, he reviews his options. He’s kicked out of his regular studio, and he needs to work tonight, otherwise he’ll never get his final project for figure drawing done. Every studio he passes is booked to capacity; clearly the art program is full of procrastinators. In fact, the only studio that has any sort of room...

“No. No. Shit.” Dean weighs the consequences of failing his class versus metaphorically throwing himself into a volcano. Finally, his fear of failure takes over, and he knocks on the door of his last remaining option. 

The door swings open, revealing a Castiel who looks significantly more disheveled than normal (though normal Castiel usually looks like he was rode hard and put away wet). A smear of blue paint decorates one cheek while his earbuds dangle from his neck. Dean tries to ignore the spirals of Castiel’s tattoos, especially where they disappear under his shirt (he especially tries to ignore the thoughts of what those tattoos look like underneath Castiel’s shirt). Castiel blinks in surprise. 

“Dean. What are you doing here?” 

(The fact that Castiel knows Dean’s name comes as a shock. Dean assumed that he was one of the thousands of nameless faces Castiel passes every day.)

“Um, first let me say, it’s totally awesome if you say no, I don’t expect you to say yes, it’s a huge imposition--”

“Dean, you’re rambling.” 

“Can i use your studio? Or share it? I wouldn’t ask, but a bunch of douchebags took mine and there are no other spaces open, and I really need to finish this project--”

“Sure. Come on.” 

And with that, Castiel steps back and beckons Dean into his studio. 

Dean crosses the threshold with something resembling awe. He never imagined, in his wildest dreams, that he would be allowed into Castiel’s inner sanctum. He tries not to gape too obviously as his eyes dart from corner to corner of the room. It looks...like a studio for the most part. Several canvases are hung around the room; if they’re discarded attempts or inspiration, Dean doesn’t know. They could easily function as either. Castiel finally steps in front of him, directing Dean’s attention to one corner of the room. 

“Would there be good?” 

Dean nods. “Yeah, that’s good.” He pauses, eyes darting nervously around the studio. “I’m not bothering you, am I?”

Castiel frowns, like the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. “No, of course not. If you were, I wouldn’t have opened up the door.” With that, he seems to consider the topic of conversation closed, and retreats back a few steps. 

He sets up his work and tries to ignore the fact that Castiel Novak is watching him. It’s almost impossible not to feel his eyes; the skin on the back of Dean’s neck prickles in awareness, but he perseveres. 

He sets his sketch on the easel before casting a critical eye upon it. He frowns as he notices every imperfection. it’s based off a series of sketches he jotted down in class earlier that day. Dean remembers the careless grace of the model, the way that the fabric had draped artlessly over his waist and shoulders, but he can’t recapture the specific atmosphere of the room, which was what made that particular model striking. Every time he tries to put onto the paper how the room felt, his figures end up wooden and two-dimensional. 

“You’re paying too much attention to the form.” 

Dean jumps, his charcoal pencil scrawling an ungainly line across the page. Not a huge loss, he was already going to toss this one anyway. He turns around to find Castiel standing directly behind him. 

Castiel nods towards his sketchpad. “In your drawings. You’re paying too much attention to the form. That’s why it’s coming out wrong.” 

“The form is all there is,” Dean replies, a little peevishly. He knows the sketch sucks, but that doesn’t mean he wants Castiel freaking Novak pointing it out to him. 

“The form is one part. But you have the lighting and shading and you have the intention. The intention is...the feel of the room. It’s what remains unsaid and unseen to those who weren’t there. It’s what you’re trying to capture by paying so much attention to the form. Of course, by concentrating too much on the technical, you lose the abstract.” 

Castiel flicks over to a new page with a deft flick of his wrist. He plucks the pencil from Dean’s grasp with one hand. With the other, he poses Dean’s hand close to his face. Castiel stares at Dean for a few excruciating seconds before he turns his attention to the empty page. 

Dean hardly dares to breathe as Castiel sketches. He’s not sure how he’s going to return to real life, knowing now the tiny crease that knits between Castiel’s brows or how the tip of Castiel’s tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth. How is he supposed to live, knowing Castiel hums tunelessly as his hand works? 

“There.” Castiel flips the sketch to face Dean. In it, Dean finds his own face, rendered in a few lines. It’s rough, certainly, but it’s a close enough likeness. More than that, Castiel’s managed to capture...

“Do I look that scared?” Dean blurts out, before he can stop himself. 

Castiel actually laughs, deep and rumbling, from the diaphragm. It’s a lovely sound, one that fills the studio, and one Dean would gladly hear again and again. “You don’t look scared.” He sets the pencil down on the easel and turns fully to face Dean. “Anxious maybe. Hovering on the edge of anticipation.” He steps closer. His chest almost brushes Dean’s, which could be misinterpreted as Castiel not understanding the concept of personal space. 

What can’t be misinterpreted is the unsubtle drop of Castiel’s eyes to Dean’s lips. 

“I guess now would be a good time to tell you that I’ve really wanted to kiss you for almost a year,” Castiel says, his voice scraped rough around the edges. His eyes drag up to Dean’s, and Dean’s taken aback at the wild glint in them. Castiel steps closer and his clever fingers slip into the spaces between Dean’s fingers. “Please Dean,” Castiel breathes, raw and needy, “please, can I kiss you?” 

“Fuck yes,” Dean murmurs, which is all he gets to say before Castiel’s hand cups the back of his head and his lips descend upon Dean’s. 

Not that Dean’s bragging, but he’s had quite a few good kisses in his life (and been told that he gives quite a few good kisses). Castiel blows them all out of the water. Dean’s never been kissed so thoroughly before, like Castiel wants to own him, like Castiel’s interested in finding exactly what makes Dean tick. His teeth nip at the swell of Dean’s lower lip while his tongue delicately traces the seam of Dean’s lips. Dean eagerly opens his mouth, moaning into Castiel’s mouth as Castiel’s tongue slips in along his. 

Hours or days later, when they part, Dean realizes that while one of his hands is cupping the spur of Castiel’s hip (holy fuck, those hips feel like handles for his hands), his other hand is still holding Castiel’s. It’s certainly the sweetest kiss that’s ever given him a boner. 

Castiel laughs, a little breathless. It’s only then Dean realizes he’s a little taller than Castiel. “You do live up to expectations,” he murmurs, and Dean’s not sure whether Castiel’s talking to himself or not. 

The words spark a recent memory in Dean, and suddenly nothing is more important than finding out the truth. “You said you wanted to do that for a year?” Castiel nods, his eyes suddenly shifting to the side. “Why?” 

“Everyone always goes on about my art. How groundbreaking it is, how I’m a ‘once in a generation talent’.” Castiel uses finger-quotes, which should not be as endearing as Dean finds it. “And it’s nice, but none of them even bother to see my art for what it is. They just see my name attached to it and they lose their shit. But last year...You saw that painting. It didn’t matter to you who made it. You saw it and appreciated it for what it was. And I...I saw you.” 

Castiel swallows. For all his suave confidence earlier, he looks oddly vulnerable now. “So, anyway. Yeah. For a year now. Um...” He glances at Dean’s easel. “I guess I’ll leave you alone now. Or if you want privacy, I can go.” 

“Or,” Dean says, the pink flush on Castiel’s cheeks giving him all the bravery he’ll ever need. “You could stay.” Castiel’s eyes slice to him, their blue intense and jaw-dropping. Dean grins, a little predatory, like they’re on even ground. 

“After all, I’m going to need a model for this sketch.” 

[twinrowcitizennews]

snapshot

Note from the editor:

This is the first letter of this nature that I’ve received from someone who wanted their question published. Other than editing for formatting and grammar, it’s in their own words and their own words alone. Please send an email or ask if you know how to solve their problem-- and quickly. 

I have to warn you, this letter isn’t for those who are put on edge easily. Reader discretion is advised. 

I don’t know if I’ll still be around by the time this is posted, but that doesn’t matter. So long as this reaches whoever might need it. 

I first saw it last October. The 27th, I think. Kind of cliché for this sort of thing to be happening right around Halloween, but truth is stranger than fiction. It was late in the evening, almost nighttime, when I saw this stray dog roaming around in my front yard. I grabbed my dog’s leash and went to get it, thinking I could keep it in my backyard until I could find the owners, but the second I left the front step, it started off towards the bike trail. I sped up to a jog and followed it, hoping not to scare it off any further. 

The bike trail veers away from the neighborhood and through this piece of undeveloped land that separates the suburbs from a nearby farm. The dog was mostly sticking to the path, moving along at a trot, stopping every once in a while to look over its shoulder and wag its tail, like it was waiting for me to catch up before starting off again. After a few minutes of this, I called for it-- tried to whistle, asked it to heel, etc. It came over when I pretended to have a treat in my hand, holding my fist out like there was something inside. When it leaned over to sniff, I clipped a leash on its collar, a simple fabric band without any tags or ID. I’d never seen the dog before, so I got out my phone and took a picture of it to post to the neighborhood Facebook page, asking if anyone knew its owner, before walking it back to my place and letting it out in the fenced back yard. After feeding my own dog, I sat down to check Facebook to see if there was any response. 

No one recognized the dog from the photo. One comment asked me who was standing in the background. 

There hadn’t been anyone else in the woods, as far as I remembered, but I double-checked the photo anyway. In the background, about 20 feet away, it looked like there was a figure-- vague, kind of person-shaped if you squinted-- standing just to the side of the bike path. It was all indistinct and fuzzy. Probably just a smudge on the lens. I responded to the comment before trying to clean off the lens on my shirt, then taking another photo down the hallway to see if the smudge was gone. There didn’t seem to be anything. The rest of the night was relatively normal. 

The next morning, I ended up trying to clear out my camera roll, to save some room for any pictures I might take of my baby cousins in their costumes. I deleted a bunch of screenshots, old photos, and the image of the dog, before going to delete the hallway picture. 

The smudge was still there. Like before, it was around 20 or so feet from where I’d been standing when I took the photo, around the size and height of a person. Unlike before, it was peering around the corner from the door to the bathroom. 

I was freaked out some, to be honest.  I scrubbed the lens down with a Lysol wipe and took another photo down the hallway, trying to prove to myself it was just some sort of shadow. Nothing that would show up in the daylight. And it didn’t-- nothing strange, no smudge, just a block of sunlight from the windows. I didn’t delete the picture from the night before, though. Just in case. 

It was a few more weeks before I took another nighttime photo. My cousins are too young to stay up late, so they’d been out trick-or-treating around 5:00 in the evening, back before it was even dark, so I didn’t really take anything on Halloween. The dog was returned to its owner a few days after, so nothing there, either. 

It was around the middle of November when I ended up catching it again. I was on a nighttime walk and passed the home of this older couple down the road who always put up their outdoor Christmas decorations about a month too early. I wanted to get a picture of the setup-- they had this new animatronic Santa, sitting on a throne and waving to the road. I can promise that no one else was in the yard. I used the flash (on accident, but still), and if someone was there, I would have seen them. When I got home, I sent the picture to a friend of mine for her to make fun of. She messaged back with a few laughing emojis before asking who took the photo.  

(ID: Two texts from my friend reading “lol” and “really who took it”. My response says “wdym?”. She responded with two texts saying “I see you in the background, genius” and “just vibing by the garage”. End ID.)

I checked the photo again. By the house’s garage, a little under 20 feet from where I’d been, was a clearer, more distinct figure. For once, I could make out its face. 

I don’t know who or what it is, or how it got there, but it definitely looked like me. It was even wearing my clothing, had its hair done the same way, everything. Just standing there and smiling for the photo, like someone just out of frame was telling it to say cheese, looking right into the camera. 

I immediately turned all the lights on that I could reach. I almost deleted the photo, staring at it for too long, before closing out of Photos and reopening my camera. I figured this had to be some weird hallucination or something I was making up, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying. I aimed the camera down the hall and took a video. Nothing. I checked it, sliding the scrub bar back and forth to inspect each individual frame. All of them were just empty, illuminated hallway. That didn’t shake the feeling, though, so I turned the hall light off and tried again. Nothing showed up on this video, either. I took a photo. 

It was there. Again. It wasn’t peeking out from around anything, just standing in the middle of the hallway, the same distance it had been from the camera in the yard. 

I didn’t sleep that night. Or the next few. 

I ended up searching the internet as much as I could for anyone with similar experiences. I saw things about ghosts, things about illusions, things about solid doppelgangers that people saw with their own eyes and not through pictures, but nothing like this. Over the weeks and months that followed, I took investigating into my own hands. 

My fears were quieted some-- some-- when, after the first few nights, I realized that it wasn’t hurting me. It never even moved, staying in the same poses each night. The only change was, no matter where I was, inside or outside, it was always the same distance away.

I started taking pictures almost obsessively. Every day, every night, I tried something new. I tried every condition I could think of to see when and where this thing would show up. It became a part of my routine-- almost a companion. I’d even jokingly wish it goodnight. 

I could put walls between myself and it. At one point, I stood inside my closet and took a picture, only showing racks of coats and clothes. It could be seen through windows, if there was no room for it to appear indoors. I could take pictures out my bedroom window to show it standing right there outside the window on the front walk. It always looked exactly like me, down to the smallest detail, except for the face. It never had any expression other than a smile. No matter where I was, inside or outside, it could be there. I got pictures of it at home, at work, out of town. It never showed up in well-lit photos. Things in the dark with flash were okay, but it would just be a little indistinct. Dimmer lighting, pictures taken at night, all of that was free game. I never got a picture of it in daylight. 

Around February, I sat down and tried to sort all the successful photos into one album to clear up my camera roll. At this point, it was mostly just pictures of the thing, since I was sometimes taking up to dozens a night. I deleted all the failures, saving all the pictures of it into one album. That’s when I noticed.

It was getting closer.

I guess I had ignored it over the first months. It had been too gradual for me to notice, only an inch or two each night, but looking at all the photos in order, it was obvious. Instead of being around 20 feet away, the thing was closer to 15, still just standing and smiling.

I had to tell myself it was coincidence, or something I was imagining, or I think I would’ve done something I’d regret later just then. Now that I knew it could move, I didn’t really think of it as a friend anymore. 

I kept taking pictures throughout the following months. Only at night. It stopped showing up outside my bedroom window-- in retrospect, probably because the ground wasn’t close enough for it anymore. It stopped lurking at the end of the hallway, drawing nearer until it was standing right there in the living room. It started putting its hands against the glass of the kitchen windows. Then it started showing up at the kitchen table. 

I got desperate, some. I tried everything. I burned incense, I tried to talk to it, I bought fucking crystals. I’m an atheist, but I even considered calling a priest or something. All spring, I was constantly scrambling to find some way to get that thing to leave, or at least stop moving. Every night I took more pictures, too many, before scrolling through my photo album with a looming sense of dread. Nothing worked. It kept coming, slowly, always dressed like me and always doing that smile. It got close enough that I could see the whites of its eyes. I almost wish I could say that there was something messed up about it, something that made it obviously inhuman or dead or anything, but there wasn’t. It was just me, just exactly like me, and somehow that was worse. 

I’m sending this in now because it’s really close and I don’t know how to make it go away or if that’s even an option anymore. These past few nights, it’s been right in front of me-- I could reach out and touch it, if it was solid. Hell, I could probably feel its breath, if it had that. I’ve been taking pictures every hour or so, sometimes every couple of minutes.

Last night, around the fifth or sixth picture I took, it wasn’t there. Just gone. I took a few more pictures, and it didn’t matter where I was, it just wasn’t there. I don’t know why I did it, but I turned the camera around to selfie mode and took a shot. 

That thing was standing right behind me.

One of its hands was hovering right over my shoulder, like it was about to touch me. I freaked out and took another picture. It hadn’t moved more than a hair. I turned all the lights on and haven’t slept. 

I’m not sleeping tonight. I’m not turning any of the lights off. It can’t get to me if the lights are on, or I hope so. If anyone knows what to do or what this thing is, please respond. It might already be too late, but I don’t know what this thing will do or who it’ll go for when it’s done with me. I don’t have much advice to give, other than to sleep with the fucking lights on.

[dianapocalypse]

Hi! I just found your art through Youtube from a Gideon the Ninth search and I'm so freaking happy! I've watched a bunch of your videos and I'm about to subscribe to your Patreon. I love your art and I love your videos.

In one of your videos you mentioned having ADHD so I there's you might understand a dilemma that I have:

See, I'm 22 years old and I'm just now starting to learn how to draw. I know that I am creative and I do have some talent, but clay and yarn have always been my preferred medium.

I'm really proud of myself for sticking to my goal of doing some sort of drawing in the last few days that I've been quarantined, but I'm worried that I'm going to burn out because my drawings don't look the way I want them to; they're not very good. I know I can't be immediately good at it, but I'm not getting that "finished task dopamine rush" if you know what I mean, and I can already feel it starting to wear my attention down.

I really want to be able to draw people from The Locked Tomb and Star Trek and TAZ and actually have it look good. I know it's gonna take a lot of practice. Do you have any tips for staying with art (specifically drawing people) in the beginning when I'm not getting the results I want?

omg hello!!!! thank you so much for watching my channel and the kind words and aaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAA you have made my day!!! WELCOME TO DRAWING! something I have noticed with ppl who start art (or any skill) Later In Life is that they start in stage 2 of Learning Stuff. this is a highly scientific term. but basically, the four stages go "being not good but not realizing it at a thing", "being not good but knowing it", "being good and knowing it" and "being good without thinking about it". again, I am explaining this Highly Scientifically. but that's good news, because that means you're already on stage 2! that's one whole stage closer to being good at things!

but that is not your question! the question is how to avoid burnout, and I can help with that too!

the way forward is DRAW VERY SELF INDULGENT THINGS! if you're not getting the dopamine from the finished product itself, you can get it from WHAT you're drawing. example! i have three entire 100+ page photo albums full of art from one of my D&D games because I fell in love with my OC. I wasn't very good at art for most of that game, but by the end of it, I was PRETTY DECENT! it didn't bother me that much that my art was just OK at the beginning because I was just having so much fun drawing that character. over and over again. hundreds of times. maybe more even. doing lots of things. like smoochin her boyfriend. but in a distinctly bisexual way.

where was I. YES. avoiding burnout. so I recommend starting there! draw what you like! draw what brings you dopamine anyway!

i also recommend trying to embrace your mistakes! the fact that you're NOTICING them means you're at the step right before learning how to fix them! and then when you DO learn how to fix them??? the DOPAMINE will FLOW. the way to do that? when you draw something wrong, go find a reference of it! if it's a pose you're struggling with and you can't figure it out, take a picture of yourself doing it or look at yourself doing it in a mirror! (or, if you start from a reference, you'll already have one ready to go! I recommend Adorkastock on DA/Tiktok or https://doll-a.net/. That second one even has an app you can use to download a 3D mannequin that you can pose however you like! It's a little clunky but it's FREE!) references will make you get good so much faster than not references. this reminds me I wanted to make a video about references. I will write that down!

you have also inspired me to make a video with more just How To Draw Stuff advice! I have been batting an idea around but knowing someone would actually GET SOMETHING OUT OF IT is motivating! i will try to make that next week's video!

in the meantime, keep drawing stuff you love!! make more TLT content! or TAZ or D&D or Star Trek! lifehack, you can do figure studies and then just make them into your OCs or characters you like from those things. no one can stop you. what if they were ALL gideon nav???