#specifically the photo I took of said sketch

[emily-mooon]

Was drawing in my sketchbook while listening to New Order and made this cool sketch of Ramona

[eldstunga]

Hi! I really love your art! The lines are so bold but the colours so natural that it feels distinct but grounded?? I'm obsessed with the shapes in your work

I was wondering if you had any advice for drawing bodies? Whenever I try it either my proportions are off or an arm ends up looking like a calf or something.

First of all, thank you <3 That's so nice and I think "lines bold, colours natural" is some truly aspirational words to say about my art, I'll strive to be what you say I am <3 I do not, unfortunately, have any great tips on drawing bodies - it's a very wide topic and fundamentally just really bloody hard. I fail horribly 9 times out of 10. How to approach it I think varies a lot with like...HOW you are struggling, and who you are as a person. For proportions and anatomy there are definitely books to look at, and some rules of thumb that can help you - anything from "the shoulders are about 2.5-3 heads wide" through "feet are the same length as the forearm", "elbows are in line with the navel and the navel is two sternums down" etc etc. For me, realising just how big the ribcage actually is and learning how to use that as a unit of measure was a big event (the torso is about two ribcages long). Look at references, Draw over low opacity references and try to look for patterns that help YOU. Like... "Hm, do the shoulders line up with something useful?"

Having a good ref model to double check things helps too. The pen is pointing to about the bottom of the ribcage. But there's also stuff like maybe you're getting too hung up on construction and then it might help more to try to draw from references by ONLY blocking in a silhouette first. This helps me sometimes still:

Or you could be like me, struggle with all of the above and then some - like how to make poses look natural and/or dynamic? Weight distribution is a whole other topic.. gah, it never ends, but it's fun to learn.

Lastly, this took me way too long to realise and I think it should be said: Do not fret too much about STUDYING. The unfair thing is that the better you are at something, the better you will be at actually learning from doing studies and exercises or reading books. We accept this with many other disciplines and sports but rarely art. Mileage is king, and mileage is best gained from having fun and enjoying what you do. If you find studies suffering and frustrating you're probably better off just drawing what you enjoy and fuck it if it isn't "pushing your boundaries" or whatever. Eventually you'll get to the point where studies start to give more than they take, and then you're home free. I'm not gonna recommend a billion resources you likely won't enjoy but here are some things I genuinely found helpful lately: * a physical anatomy model, they're pricy and not necessary but being able to just look at it every now and then, turn it over etc helps. * The "Morpho" series of books, they do not teach anatomy, but they are very useful quick reference books and much more easily digested than most anatomy material. Just try to find a real anatomy book to read once your appetite is up as well.

The zig-zag/Lightning bolt method for arms and legs, fuckin' thing revolutionised how I sketch: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yCkmB030GpQ

Gottfried Bammes "The Complete guide to Anatomy for Artists and Illustrators" This thing is insane, it's from the 50's and like 600 pages long. You could absolutely kill someone with it, but a lot of the pages are more philosophical or art history you can skip and despite its age and fear factor this dude writes in a witty, clever and just wonderful way that I've seen nowhere else. Fantastic photos. By far, FAR the best anatomy book I've ever seen. It's not a book I'd recommend for someone starting out, I would not have been able to digest it like four years ago, but once you get to a certain point it's amazing.

That's a lot, uhhh, feel free to ask me for more specific tips this was a bit of a rant. Hope some of it was useful!

[the-solar-system52]

INK DEMON AND BENDY THEORY

So Bendy's official Instagram account just posted something very interesting, and I want to theorise about it!

For awhile the social media account for Bendy have been doing these posts where Bendy takes a photo of a location from BATDR and steals an item from that location, and people have to guess what he took. I thought it was just an unimportant game to give the social media managers something to do, like Steelwool's 'Guess The Sketch', but now it's actually important.

The picture shows that Bendy built all his stolen items in the shape of his Ink Demon form, with an interesting caption. Some fans have took this post to mean that Ink Demon ordered small Bendy to make a statue of him, but I don't think that's true.

I'm a big fan of the "Bendy is the Ink Demon with the mind of a child, and they are NOT seperate people" theory, and I don't think this post disproves that.

So if you know my past TPOH and FNAF theories, then you know its time for another round of:

SOLAR NEEDLESSLY OVERANALYZING THE GRAMATICAL STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES TO MAKE A THEORY EVEN THOUGH MOST PEOPLE DON'T PAY THAT MUCH ATTENTION TO HOW THEY PHRASE THINGS

Lets dissect this single sentence like a frog!!

"His inner Ink Demon is always on his mind-"

If Joey Drew Studios had phrased this as "IN his mind", then I see how this would be more literal. Meaning that the Ink Demon is a separate entity to Bendy and is literally living IN his mind.

But they didn't, they said "ON his mind". This phrase is usually used more metaphorically. If I'm hungry, I can say that dinner is 'on my mind', but that doesn't mean my dinner is actuallly INSIDE my brain. All this means is that Bendy has been thinking about his memories of his Ink Demon form, and therefore made a statue of him when he looked like that. Possibly to try and communicate his complicated feelings through art, or maybe he collected those specific items almost subconsciously.

Second of all, if the Ink Demon really was ordering Bendy around from inside his mind to make that statue for him, then I don't think it looks right. In BATIM, there are multiple shrines made by followers of the Ink Demon like Sammy, that look more demonic. As you can see, Bendy's statue doesn't look anything like that. Not a candle or pentagram in site! I feel like if this was made by the request of the Ink Demon, it would look way more like the ones from BATIM. But it doesn't! Instead, I think it looks more like it was made by Bendy on his own accord, like a children's drawing.

"His inner Ink Demon-"

Again, Joey Drew Studios decided to take the less-literal more-metaphorical route of this phrasing. If they just said "THE ink demon" then it would imply the Ink Demon as his own separate entity. But saying "inner" when referring to a buried memory of someone's past is not uncommon to do for regular use as well. For example, if I draw cats a certain way then I can say it's my "inner warrior cats fan" coming out. That doesn't mean there's actually a warrior cats fan inside my brain ordering me around, it's symbolic.

"on his mind, searching for an exit."

This also doesn't disprove my theory. The Keepers technology is preventing him from turning into his Ink Demom form. This means he can't use his powers and is weaker and smaller. It's clear he at least vaguely remembers what the Keepers did to him because of how scared he is of the GENT building.

Since he is in an incredibly hostile environment, it's no surprise he'd be thinking of a time where he wasn't as vulnerable. And he would also be trying to find a way to be strong again, in his own child-like way. Which explains the statue.

Personally, I find this all way more interesting then "rrr ink demon scary rrr", but to each their own.

I have more evidence for my "Bendy is the Ink Demon with the mind of a child, and they are NOT seperate people" theory outside of this instagram description, but I've already written enough for this post. I may make another post about it but we'll see. Please comment if you have anything else to add ^^

[chaoskirin]

What AI Art is NOT

I keep seeing people refuting points from REAL ACTUAL ARTISTS using these talking points. So here’s a sort of FAQ of what I’ve seen.

Q: Isn’t AI Art is just a tool?

A: Tools include grids, perspective lines, rulers, apps like Sketch Up which place assets that are pre-designed and cannot be altered, et cetera. Tools are NOT: apps that draw the whole picture for you. If AI datasets were tools, then artists would also be tools. Artists aren’t tools. 

Q: AI Art isn’t stealing art. It’s just like a collage. 

A: I really want you to think about what a collage is versus the kind of art an AI dataset spits out. Are those things the same? Collages are derivative and generally fall under parody law, so long as the person creating them isn’t taking credit for the parts of the collage they didn’t photograph or draw. You cannot sell a collage of other peoples’ work without express written permission from those people. The elements of a collage are each separate and identifiable as such.

AI art is not a collage. The elements of an AI art piece are not separate and identifiable. They are combined into one single piece, where each piece cannot specifically be traced. AI art does not fit the definition of a derivative or parody work. 

Q: If someone puts their art on the internet, it’s fair game. 

A: Copyright law specifically disagrees with you on this point. 

Q: If it’s not a collage and one can’t see the pieces of the art, doesn’t that make it an original work, and therefore, it’s not theft? 

A: AI isn’t generating a new image. It’s taking pieces from many originals and “claiming” to make a new original piece. However, AI cannot generate these things without knowing what they are (IE skimming tags and allowing users to tell the AI what’s in the picture) Without the input of original artists, an AI would not be able to create anything, which is why most datasets include millions of pieces of art “scraped” (AKA stolen) from the internet. Currently, these pieces AI makes are being sold, and the owners of the datasets are charging for their use. This means that people who did not actually create the art are being paid, whereas the original artists are not. 

Q: AI art can’t replace real artists. You’re fearmongering. 

A: AI art has already replaced real artists. Shortly after Kim Jung Ji died, someone fed all his artwork into a dataset and “created” several new pieces that were almost identical to his style. Cosmopolitan magazine released a cover “drawn” by an AI and blatantly stated on the cover “and it only took 20 seconds to make.” A magazine article in The Atlantic used AI art to generate a photo of Alex Jones surrounded by papers. Someone submitted AI generated art to an art contest and won. Several anecdotal stories (not verified, but reliable) on Twitter state that small companies have fired their graphic designers or cut their work force. Commissioned artists have reported dropping sales numbers. 

Corporations (and most people) will ALWAYS favor a cheaper option. If it’s good enough, it’s usable. The Cosmo magazine cover and the article header image were TERRIBLE, and they still went to print. Everyone should know by now that corporations will ALWAYS screw people over when they’re able to. If AI art becomes acceptable and commonplace, in-house artists will be replaced. This isn’t theoretical. It is already happening. 

Q: It’s going to happen anyway. You can either embrace it or reject it. (Yes, this is real. Someone actually said this to me.) 

A: Yes... Exactly. I’m rejecting it. Without laws to protect artists, I will fight AI art whenever and wherever I can. It might be fun and convenient for you, a non-artist, but it is terrifying and heartbreaking for artists. Websites like Deviantart and Clip Studio Paint who said “well it’s going to happen anyway” should have been the first line of defense against the creep of AI art, but they failed. It can only take over if people let it. Stop letting it.

[miss-daisy04]

are you afraid of the dark? - hyunjin

lowkey sad, idk depends on how you look at it. request is also from 🥥 anon!! (sorry, 🥥 anon was from so long ago, which is why i'm trying to get through all my requests). also literally when i saw the "are you afraid of the dark?" request i LITERALLY had the photo saved beforehand which is so ironic to me.

warnings: none.

wordcount: 0.7k (very short)

Where the streets were lined with towering oak trees and the air carrying the sweet scent of wildflowers is where a young man named Hyunjin lived. He strived for the peacefulness of the surrounding nature. Hyunjin was sixteen, with tousled brownish-black hair and eyes that held a spark of curiosity. But more than anything, Hyunjin was captivated by one person: Y/n.

Y/n was a year older than Hyunjin, a free spirit with a smile that could light up even the darkest of nights. She was the kind of girl who danced in the rain and believed in magic. To Hyunjin, she was nothing short of enchanting.

Hyunjin's days revolved around Y/n. Watching her from afar, stealing glances during class, and secretly doodling her name in the margins of his notebooks. He longed to tell her how he felt, but fear held him back like a heavy anchor.

One evening, while the sun was casting long shadows across the park where Y/n often sat sketching, Hyunjin found himself summoned by courage—or perhaps a sheer desperation to break free from the chains of unspoken words.

Heart pounding, Hyunjin approached Y/n, who looked up with a curious smile. "Hey, Hyunjin. What's up?"

Hyunjin took a deep breath, his palms sweating. "Um, Y/n, I... I wanted to tell you something."

Y/n cocked her head, her eyes alight with curiosity. "Sure, what is it?"

Hyunjin's heart felt like a drum in his chest. "I... I really like you, Y/n. Like, a lot. You're amazing, and... I just had to tell you."

For a moment, there was silence. A heavy, expectant pause that stretched between them like a taut string. Then, Y/n's eyes softened, and she grinned.

"Hyunjin, I like you too," she said, her voice as gentle as a breeze. "You're sweet."

Relief washed over Hyunjin like a warm wave. They spent the evening talking, sharing dreams and fears under the blanket of stars that emerged overhead.

Hyunjin and Y/n grew closer, their bond deepening with each passing moment. They explored hidden trails in the woods, discovered forgotten treasures in old bookshops, and watched sunsets that painted the sky in hues of gold and rose.

But beneath the surface of Hyunjin's newfound happiness lingered a shadow—the fear of losing Y/n, of the fragile beauty of their relationship slipping away like sand through his fingers.

One crisp autumn evening, as they walked hand in hand through the dimly lit streets, Y/n glanced up at the star-strewn sky.

"Are you afraid of the dark, Hyunjin?" she asked, her voice soft.

Hyunjin paused, taken aback by the unexpected question. "Um, sometimes," he admitted, his heart skipping a beat.

Y/n smiled knowingly. "Me too. But you know what? The darkness is just another canvas waiting to be painted with light." (tbh the pun is that he paints/draws lmao i suck at writing)

But life has a way of testing the courage of even the bravest hearts.

One specific evening, Y/n shared news that shattered Hyunjin's world, her family would be moving to a distant city come spring. The revelation hung heavy between them, a looming specter threatening to snuff out the fragile flame of their love.

In the weeks that followed, Hyunjin grappled with a tumult of emotions—fear, sadness, and a profound sense of helplessness. He cherished every moment with Y/n, clinging to their shared memories like treasures in a fading dream.

On their final night together, beneath a sky painted with stars, Hyunjin held Y/n close. Tears glistened in his eyes as he whispered the words he had longed to say.

"I love you, Y/n," he said, his voice breaking with raw emotion.

Y/n's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her voice a soft melody in the night. "I love you too, Hyunjin."

They stood together, two souls intertwined in a universe that seemed determined to tear them apart. And as the clock struck midnight, Hyunjin held onto Y/n, etching her presence into the depths of his heart.

Years had already passed, Hyunjin was out of high school. Yet, the memory of Y/n lingered. He often wondered if she ever thought of him; if she remembered the boy who dared to love her against all odds.

In quiet moments, when the world was still, Hyunjin would close his eyes and hear Y/n's voice echoing in the depths of his soul.

"Are you afraid of the dark?"

"No," Hyunjin would whisper into the silence, his heart filled with bittersweet nostalgia. "Not anymore."

i hope you enjoyed it! if you did, please show admiration of my work by liking/reblogging/sharing/commenting! it really shows me how i am doing as a writer ♡

[gatitties]

May i request please Ryusei, Baji, Chifu and Kazu when a friend draws them/make a clay figure of them please ? As a platonic

Thank you !

─Ryusei, Baji, Chifuyu & Kazutora x reader (platonic)

─Summary: your friend discover that you are making a small figure/draw of them

─Warnings: none

Ryusei Satou

─ He caught you drawing him in the middle of class, it was a boring class and you had a good angle on him so you took advantage of it.

─ You wish he hadn't seen you because oh boy, he'll make fun of you telling you that you're in love with him as a joke.

─ You will raise his ego even more and probably every time he sees you with a pencil and a notebook he poses ironically for you.

─ Although he seriously won't mind if you draw him, he enjoys seeing how you see him even if it's silly doodles sometimes, he'll appreciate art just the same.

─ He tries to draw you back but let's say that art is not his strong point, you still appreciate the attempt.

─ He won't force you if it bother you that people see your drawings without your permission, but keep in mind that he will want to snoop in your notebook just to see his.

─ Oh and if someone makes fun of your drawings he'll be ready to throw hands no problem, only he can make fun of it and he's not even serious about it.

─ He'll definitely steal one of the doodles, cut it out, and put it in his phone case to take it with him.

Baji Keisuke

─ You had to make a figure of whatever you wanted for a class project, you decided to make your friend bust in a cartoon version.

─ So you both worked together because you needed some references, he didn't question why you decided to take him as a model since he wanted to do Peke J.

─ He's probably complaining that you've exaggerated his expression and that he's not so 'ugly', but it's the style, so you ask him to shut up and concentrate on his work, you're not accepting criticism of your work when he made a cat as if it were a ball with paws.

─ He will show off when the works are exhibited, proudly telling Chifuyu that this is him and that you have wonderful hands that would make you a famous artist in the future.

─ You will verbally slap him for being a hypocrite and for having complained at the beginning about how he looked and only bragging now that you got the best grade in the class.

─ He saved a photo of the sculpture and asked you to make a slightly smaller one to put in his room.

─ He will show it to his mother, proud of your abilities, although at first he said that he did it to take the credit, luckily it's easier to catch a liar than a lame one.

Chifuyu Matsuno

─ You casually commented that you were out of ideas to draw and that lately you were not able to capture the poses well one day.

─ He said that he could be your model to take references, although it was only a specific case, you began to trace his figure more times because this boy seemed to be posing without realizing it.

─ He won't mind spending entire afternoons posing for you, although he can't sit still for more than a minute because he gets tired quickly, give him a break, he never thought of being a model and it's exhausting to keep the same posture for so long.

─ Definitely he will ask you to finish the drawings that he likes the most and not to leave them as a simple practice sketch, he wants to hang them on the wall of his room.

─ He will also keep one of those little drawings in the phone case, he takes it as a lucky charm because the day you gave it to him he passed an exam.

─ As a thank you, he also wants to make a silly little drawing of you, although since he wants it to be a surprise, he draws you during classes without you noticing.

─ Chifuyu isn't exactly the best at art but you appreciate his scribbling attempt, you gave him an extra point because he drew your pet next to you.

Kazutora Hanemiya

─ This boy needed some affection since he entered the correctional and you thought of giving him a gift once he completed his sentence.

─ So you set to work on a small figure of him that he could use as a key ring.

─ He hugged you so tightly when he came out of the correctional that he almost left you breathless, he didn't expect any of his old friends to go see him that day and even less he expected a gift from you.

─ He will ask you to teach him the art of clay because he needs to start looking for other hobbies that do not include punching.

─ If he is good at it, you will have many relaxing outings doing this type of craft, if he doesn't master the practice, he will only ask you to make more figurines to decorate his room.

─ He definitely wants you to make earrings to match with you, he brags that his best friend did it to everyone possible, yes, sometimes he'll embarrass you because he spends exalting your work when it's not a big deal most of the time.

─ He supports you in everything, like if you sign up for a figure and creativity contest, he will be by your side on work nights helping you as much as he can.

[swiftllama]

August Compliments ☀️🔍

[Compliments Masterlist]

Hello everyone! So this is the continuation of the first Compliments Post I made and a round up of the compliments from August 2023.

So let’s jump in shall we!

August 2023

Starting off the month we got a double dose 4 days into the month. And it actually comes from Ian!

What Would Our Warning Labels Say? | Let’s Get Talking

Ian, Shayne, Courtney, and Angela all played a Q&A style game where Ian gave some answers relating to and complimenting Anthony :-

I should also say the time stamp title for this question in the video is ‘Who Are Our Fave People’ 🥹

Q: “Who do you admire the most?”

Originally Ian agreed with Courtney’s answer of Amanda but never expanded on why and gave a very Ian answer of “things like that [what Courtney said]”, before changing his answer :-

Ian: “I have a different answer actually - Anthony.”

Courtney: “Awwww!”

Courtney being the resident Ianthony fangirl once again and representing us all 😌

Ian: “I think because he was always - until towards the end of his time at Defy he wasn’t a hundred percent in it, but before that with the sketches and now that he’s back, whenever he’s doing something, he’s a hundred percent into it. He’s fully committed. He’s willing to do whatever it takes to make sure it’s the best it can be.”

I know we don’t get it as often from Ian, but these little tidbits that we do show that the appreciation for Anthony is there just as much as Anthony’s is there for him. Ian just expresses himself in different ways. He actually mentions similar thing when it comes to himself and showing outward excitement even when he is excited and Courtney chimes in with how she has seen him showing his excitement outward and how she’s seen it “especially lately” 🥲 I made a post with the clip at the time which you can find here.

Another little moment from the video that is compliment-adjacent I’d say since I think it says a lot about who someone chooses as their answer to the question :-

Q: “If you had to be handcuffed to a person for a week, who would it be and why?”

Ian: “I guess I would say Anthony, because I feel a lot of the video ideas that we came up with back in the day was just out of boredom of being around each other a lot and we’d just come up with a video idea. So I feel like being handcuffed to him for a week would give us an opportunity to come up with a lot of ideas for sketches.”

Okay, so again in typical Ian fashion we gotta read between the lines a little on this one 😅 Ian doesn’t like to get mushy as we know so his reasoning being “coming up with video ideas” doesn’t surprise me lol. But I think the first part of his answer gives a lot away - having someone you can be bored with says a lot. That’s a very specific level of comfort with another person. Not to let my swiftie side show on this post lol but there’s a lyric Taylor has from her song Peace that perfectly sums up what I mean by this

“Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other.”

That’s what I mean. Someone you can be bored with and it’s still a good time, there’s no awkwardness, you can sit in silence because it’s enough to just be existing in the same space that they are.

Moving on from the Games video.

Variety Article (aka Blue Dot Gate)

On the same day, Variety dropped an article with Ian and Anthony, and for some reason Ian had blue dot on his face in the photo that was used for it 🤷‍♀️ Ian was just as confused and so took to his Instagram Story :-

And Twitter :-

But Anthony was quick to show his support 🫡 :-

SLEEPWALKING DISASTER! Watch Party

So during the livestream someone in the chat says that Ian should change his profile picture in the Smosh Royalty discord server to the one of him with all his cross-country medals from his high school senior portraits. He’s got a really terrible haircut in it 🙈 He does find it funny but I’m not going to share it because I know part of him hates it and I feel bad, but it is out there so you should be able to find it if you’re curious.

Anyways, they’re joking around about it and Anthony’s (affectionately) taking the piss out of him for it.

Ian: [explaining the photo] “So I was posing with all my cross-country medals; Cause your boy is a freakin’ champion. No, not really.”

Anthony: [in cutesy voice] “Yeah you arrree.”

Ian don’t you know by now that Anthony will not allow you to downplay your accomplishments! 😤

Anthony: [finds and shows the photo to the camera] “Why did you take a photo with all your medals?”

Ian: “Cause I didn’t accomplish much else [in high school]...”

Anthony: “Awwwww no, yeah you did!”

IAN STOP BEING MEAN TO YOURSELF THATS SO SAD 😩

Glad Bestie Anthony is on hand 🥺

Assassin’s Creed 3 Song - Flashback w/ Smosh Ep 1

First episode of their new podcast brought forth a few little complimentary moments :-

Ian: “I look so adorable here [the screencap above].”

Anthony: “Yeah, you look so cute.”

Anthony: “Awww, Ian being a soft boi”

Plus the little hint of a smile on Anthony’s face seeing baby-face Ian ☺️

That Smosh Guy - Ian Hecox Interview | How Famous Is Jirard?

Another little compliment from Ian sprinkled in the month. Nothing major, just wanted to include it. He went on this podcast and talked about Defy and how what Smosh became ultimately led to Anthony leaving.

Ian: “So after the years of doing all this extra stuff that Anthony felt like wasn’t really core, I think it just really wore him out, and the thing with Anthony is that - if he has a project, he’ll put his whole heart into it.”

Just thought this was nice little one to include since we’ve had a lot of Anthony recognising Ian’s work ethic, so why not the other way round for a change? I think it’s also another example of why their dynamic works well, especially since Ian goes on to say that he’s not like that, and that if he’s not feeling a project he won’t put all his efforts into it. I feel that must balance them out well - that if Ian isn’t really feeling something but Anthony is he can encourage Ian to see the potential in it, and same goes for if Anthony’s putting too much pressure on himself to create something perfect when he doesn’t necessarily need to, Ian is able to pull him back and recognise that he doesn’t need to burn himself out.

Roasting Each Other’s Cringey Tweets (You Posted That)

They brought up the ‘baby more like daddy’ tweet that I included in the first compliments post. And what did I say about how the period of time when Anthony kept complimenting Ian on social media before their reunion stood out to me. Now we have confirmation that, as Erin dubbed it in have video, they were “soft launching” the fact they were talking/friends again.

Ian: [tweet shows on screen] “So I said ‘Baby’s first chain’. Ha ha [fiddles with necklace] now I’m a chain boi.”

Anthony: “Awww.”

Not really a compliment, just thought it was cute lol.

Anthony: “I remember this was my first time ever publicly supporting you.”

Ian: [smiles] “Noooo, that’s not true.”

Oh 🥺 I don’t know what to call this moment exactly? Almost like the shoe is on the other foot? Ian not allowing Anthony to paint himself in a bad light by saying this was the first time he ever showed support to Ian publicly. I agree with Ian that it definitely isn’t the first time over the years but obviously the ‘between years’ caused a big gap and the years before I think it’s clear from what Anthony said in the journal video about not praising Ian enough in the past that he feels bad about that and it’s why he’s so vocal now in supporting him - to make up for that.

Anthony: “It’s [the tweet] something like ‘daddy likey the blingy’.”

Not Anthony lying to try and save face 🤭 he knows exactly what he said! That man remembers the most random, minuet details about things - especially when it comes to Ian. He just doesn’t want to admit he has a thing for calling Ian ‘daddy’ 😏 it’s okay Anthony, you can embrace it, we get it.

EVIL AI TRIED TO KILL ME! Watch Party

Someone in chat congratulations Anthony for being nominated for a Streamy and the boys talk about how they’ve got suits for it and then proceed to go back and forth saying how ‘good’ and ‘hot’ they’re going to look - Which indeed they did 😍

Someone in chat then asks if their suits are matching.

Anthony: “Matching suits? No they’re not matching. But they do look really good together though. They vibe well together.

I don’t think that’s the suits Anthony, I mean they help, but that’s all Ian and you. They look good and they vibe well together 😌

Anways, that was just a fun little one!

Moving on…

Ian ‘Cupid Shuffle’ Hecox

Ian blessed us with this Instagram post of him busting a move and looking 🔥 at Kimmy’s wedding :-

And of course Anthony couldn’t help himself :-

Streamys 2023

We didn’t really get much from the Streamys (not even Anthony winning 😤) but there was one little moment that happened early on in the show where they mentioned OG YouTubers and a clip of Ian from Food Battle 2012 where it looks like he’s doing ‘questionable things’ to a doughnut plays on screen.

Now obviously I don’t know how Ian felt in that moment having that play, but I think anyone would feel a little under the spotlight, especially given the context of the clip and how for people who’ve never seen FB or Smosh it must have been fairly confusing lol.

But no worry, because Ian’s no1 fan was sitting right there next to him. From the audience, over the people laughing and a few claps, you just hear Anthony’s voice yell “YEAH!” with his hand raised in the air :-

Always there to be Ian’s cheerleader 🥹

Anthony Plays Smosh Hide and Seek

So this was just a silly little moment, that again is more compliment-adjacent but still thought it deserved a little shoutout to close out the month.

In the hide and seek video Anthony and Ian are down to the last remaining few people to try and find - one of those being Chanse. Earlier in the video Anthony had checked the clothing racks and not found anyone - Ian wanted to allow him to seek his own as it was his game, but since they were having to re-check where they’d already been Ian decided to help him out, and low and behold, he found Chanse 😆

Anthony couldn’t believe he’d missed him!

Anthony: “That was such a good spot, holy shit! And your feet being in this bucket - holy shit! I would have never found you. Ian, damn, you found him!”

Literally just thought this was cute of Anthony giving Ian the recognition of finding him and that he wouldn’t have been able to without him. That’s all. Have no more thoughts on this one lol.

And so August slipped away into a moment in time…

Hope you enjoyed reading and I shall see you next time!

[thelemurinwonderland]

S/O Who Makes Tiny Hats (Azul, Leona, Riddle, Idia, Malleus

Leona:

Didn’t think much about it, but good for you

That was, until you put one on him while he was sleeping and posted the pic to Magicam

Pretty kitty man was not happy that day

Eventually got over it, now he just watches you draw the designs

When the time comes to sew it, he will 9 times out of 10 lay down on your lap while you work. 

“Oi, I am not your mannequin, and I’m not cute. Put another stupid hat on me, and I’m shredding it.”

Azul:

Was intrigued, insisted on seeing your collection

Has already planned you a little shop for your hobby because yes

You made a mini version of his hat, and he chuckled. Said tiny Azul hat now sits on his desk lamp!

Like Leona, he doesn’t care all too much for being a mannequin.

Will endure it because he loves you and it makes you happy

You don’t post any of the pictures to your Magicam, because you don’t want to ruin Azul’s reputation

Riddle:

Caught you posing with one and listened to you talk about your hobby, blushed while doing so because of how happy you were

Sat with you while you made another one, was surprised by how long it took

You made a pair that resembled the Mad Hatter and Queen of Hearts, he was impressed by how accurate it was

If you’re going to use him as a mannequin, make sure you are the only ones in the room. If not, Tomato Riddle is going to take some heads.

He really enjoys being your mannequin

Frequently getting you material or sending Trey during errand runs, he doesn’t want you to run out

Idia:

He cosplays and you make tiny hats, it's a win-win!

Cried when you used him as a mannequin once, because he got flustered and accidentally burned your progress. You and Ortho had to reassure him, poor man was crying his eyes out

You frequently receive sketches/reference photos, along with the human blowtorch’s puppy eyes.

Loves being a mannequin, and is surprisingly not shy about it (as long as it stays between you two and Ortho)

Challenges you to make the smallest ones possible just to see how far you can go

During the Ghost Bride event, you burst through the door, stormed over to him, and plopped the hat you’d made specifically for the occasion on his head, and kissed him in front of Eliza. You got slapped, he got embarrassed, but hey it was worth it, so who really cares?

Malleus:

Frequently walks around Diasomnia with a tiny hat on his head

It confuses Sebek, but it also makes Malleus happy so he’s conflicted

Mannequin Dragon Mannequin Dragon Mannequin Dragon

Has asked Lilia to make a photo album of him wearing said tiny hats

Gets you really fancy material to work with, you can’t argue with him

Has been secretly learning the art of making tiny hats so he can make one for/with you

[storiesbyrhi]

Our Patron Saint of the Arts

Eddie Munson x Reader More Eddie fics here

6705 words

Warnings: Mentions of parental abuse; drug use; no beta

Synopsis: When you find a Motorhead patch in the hallway of Hawkins High, you know who it belongs to. Idiots in love. Eddie in a dress. Reader is a crafty artist. Wayne Munson. No Vecna; everything is peachy.

The patch looked new, but it had been trampled on just a little in the hallways of Hawkins High. It was clear who it belonged to, but you were unsure how to return it to him. He was a bit preoccupied.

You watched him jump up onto cafeteria tables, yelling at people and making faces at Jason Carver, generally living up to his reputation as a menace to society.

“What’s that?” your friend asked from beside you.

“Found it on the ground,” you told them, tucking it away in your pocket, already having memorised the details. The holes made from a poor attempt to sew it onto a denim vest. The Sharpie marking on the back; the price of it when it was bought.

It wasn’t until were outside during Art class one afternoon collecting flowers and leaves to press that you saw your opportunity. Eddie Munson was crossing the field and disappearing into the woods.

You found him sitting at the table someone had dragged out there years ago, his jacket off and his face buried in a task. Eddie’s metal lunchbox was sitting open next to him but it was hard to see what he was actually doing.

As you approached, the fallen leaves crunching under your feet, Eddie turned to see who was there. He didn’t look startled or surprised.

“Hi,” he said after he realised you weren’t going to speak first.

“Hi,” you replied moving to stand at the end of the table.

Eddie looked up at you, his expression neutral at first. When you failed to speak again, his mouth curved into a grin and you were struck with how pretty you actually thought he was.

You knew you appreciated Eddie, aesthetically speaking. You were an arts and craft type of girl, with a deep love of galleries and colours and textures and creation. Of course, then, your eyes often followed Eddie anytime he was within your proximity.

Eddie was a Pollock in a room of Rothkos.

But you didn’t realise you thought he was pretty. His big brown doe-eyes. The softness of his curls. His smile, kind but wild.

“How may I be of assistance, our patron saint of the arts?” Eddie asked.

What…

“You dropped this,” you said quickly, fishing the Motorhead patch from your pocket. You’d carried it around for a whole week since finding it.

“Oh shit. I thought I’d never see it again. Thanks.”

When he took the patch from you, there was no reason to continue standing there, studying his face. (You wondered how easy it would be to sketch it out later that night without a photo reference.) Yet, you blurted out, “You didn’t stitch it on very well.”

Eddie’s smile didn’t drop, but his eyebrows raised a little. “Do it for me then?” he asked, turning to his leather jacket, stripping the denim vest from it handing it to you.

It was in your hands before you could think or say anything.

“It was here,” he said, pointing.

“I don’t have my sewing kit,” you told him.

“But you do have one… I’ve seen you around, you know.” Eddie waited for any sort of reaction, but you had a good poker face, which only made him more determined to get something out of you. “You made those awesome posters for the middle school talent show. And you had that freaky skeleton thing in the art show,”

“You went to the art show?”

“Some of my best clients are artists,” he said with a smile. “And you made those amazing brownies for the bake sale,” Eddie added.

No – he hadn’t gone to the bake sale. It was raising money for the basketball team’s trip. However, Lucas Sinclair had gone, then made the mistake of bringing his haul to Hellfire later that night. Eddie remembered asking about the brownies specifically. They had given him ideas for his, uh, small business.

You were on fucking fire.

This wasn’t what you thought was going to happen.

You thought you were going to go return a lost item to someone you vaguely knew through school. You did not think you were going to end up all tongue-tied and dumb in front of someone that you apparently thought was really, really pretty. You did not think you would be thinking about him knowing you, noticing you, seeing your art.

What the fuck.

You needed to leave.

“What do you want me to do with this?” you said, trying to give Eddie his vest.

He pushed it back at you. “Sew the patch on. I’ll make it worth your while.”

Nooooooo. He didn’t just say that. And no. He didn’t see those thoughts flash across your face.

“Fine. Yeah. Whatever,” you replied, turning and quickly walking away. Too quickly. Quickly enough that Eddie laughed before calling out a casual ‘bye’ after you, followed by your name.

“Jesus Christ,” you mumbled to yourself, crossing the field, Eddie’s vest in your arms. You hugged it tight to your body. When you got back to the art rooms, you shoved it in your bag before anyone could see.

He was pleased with himself, pleased with how his afternoon was panning out.

Eddie was the type of guy to admire from afar. He was confident, sure, and definitely a flirt, but there was some part of his head that kept him from walking up to a girl and asking her out.

He tried not to linger in self-reflective thoughts. Existentialism dragged him down. Eddie knew, though, that he would always be hurt by his parents’ abandonment. He’d always have a chip on his shoulder about being the town freak.

Life ran smoother when he approached people with caution. He’d never admit it, but Eddie was too fragile to handle an embarrassing public rejection. So, he admired from afar and waited for opportunities to come to him. Just like you had.

…

Eddie’s vest felt like a lead balloon in your bag. It was loud too, a presence you couldn’t stop thinking about from art class to the end of day bell, and all the way home. Through homework and dinner and well into the night. Finally, as you pulled it out and had it out on your work table, silence.

No thoughts. Just Eddie Munson’s vest in your bedroom.

Don’t do it. Don’t be weird. But you did it anyway. As soon as it got close to your face, you could make out the tell-tale scent of weed. Then, something smoky. Real smoke. Like he’d worn it to too many bonfires and never washed it. And denim. That was it. No more complex. Not really good or bad.

You quickly stitched the Motorhead patch into place, not making a particular effort for it to look perfect, but by virtue of your skills, it was.

As you went to put the vest back in your bag, you hesitated. Sucking in your bottom lip, you considered, then hung it on the back of your work chair.

From your bed you could see it, somehow feel it...

Don’t do it. Don’t be weird. But you did it anyway.

…

Not wanting to have the vest in your possession any longer than necessary, you waited almost all lunch the next day for Eddie to show up. When there were only five minutes until the next period, you farewelled your friends and walked over to the table he usually sat at.

When you arrived, standing awkwardly near the empty chair Eddie usually occupied, you went to speak.

“He’s not here,” one of the guys at the table said.

“What?” you asked stupidly.

“Eddie. Said he had business. Told us to tell you he’s in the parking lot,” the guy said, entirely uninterested in being Eddie’s messenger.

“Thanks,” you squeaked out, quickly leaving the cafeteria and making a beeline for the far corner of the student lot.

Eddie’s white van had music coming from it, and as you approached you reminded yourself to absolutely not ask how he knew you’d go looking for him.

It was, however, the first thing you said as you walked around the back of the van and found Eddie sitting with the doors open, smoking a cigarette and writing in what looked like a journal.

Eddie laughed when you spoke.

“I didn’t tell them to say that,” Eddie clarified. Your cheeks grew hot. “I told them I wouldn’t make it to lunch. And, if anybody needed me, they knew where to find me,”

“Oh. Okay. He didn’t have to word it like that,”

“Guess it looked like you needed me,” Eddie replied, not breaking eye contact. He was holding back a smile.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Here.” You pulled his vest out of your bag and threw it at him. He began to inspect your work, running his fingertips over the patch. “You’re welcome.” And you were off again.

Eddie stood quickly. “Wait. I’m sorry, alright? I’m just… Whatever. Here. This is for you,” he said, turning to rifle through a bag.

He handed you a book. It was old. Antique old. It didn’t have writing on its hard, fabric-bound cover, but its title page announced it was an exploration into the science fiction genre.

As you flipped through the pages, Eddie spoke. “I got it a while back, thought it would like, give me some ideas for a campaign or something. It’s a bit too… dry, for my taste.”

You looked up at him confused as he continued.

“Leans into the academic, you know? But it’s got all these pictures,” he said, reaching out to skip you ahead in the book. “Thought they were pretty cool. And you’re an artist. Thought you could use them. Or maybe you’d just like a weird old book.”

Eddie was right. The book was beautiful. It was strange and the illustrations were wonderfully detailed.

“I love it,” you told him, being genuine.

He smiled then. Not an ‘I’m fucking with you’ smile. Not an ‘I’m hiding some pain behind this joke’ smile. Just a proper, warm-hearted, Eddie Munson smile.

“I told you I’d make it worth your while. Maybe next patch I get, we can do business again?” he asked.

You nodded, your heart pounding hard against your ribcage.

And that’s how your tentative friendship with Eddie began. He would bring you his vest and a patch and the next day he’d have some whimsical thing to give you. The skull of a small animal, “For art reference, you know?” A mixtape he’d made, our patron saint of the arts written across it. A box of black plastic tape from inside VHS cassettes.

“What the fuck am I going to do with this?” you had asked, laughing.

“Art,” he answered, like it obvious.

The trades went down mostly across the field at the table Eddie referred to as his office. Sometimes, next to his van. Each time you visited you’d get closer and closer to sitting down in the back with him.

Not often would you be around people, but the more it went on, the less other people mattered to you at all. Eddie seemed surprised when you leaned against his locker between periods.

He’d started a second vest since his first one was pretty much covered. You handed it over, the Black Sabbath patch perfectly placed.

“Fuck! I forgot,” he said. You tried not to feel a little let down that he’d forgotten it was trade day. “I had it out on the counter ready to go and everything.”

Oh. Never mind then.

“It’s okay. Next time,”

“No. It’s a good one. What are you doing later? I’ll bring it to you,”

“Nothing,” you answered, trying to not hesitate but also not answer too quickly. “It’s Friday, so my family goes over to my aunt’s for dinner,”

“But not you?”

“Nope,” was all you offered in return. Truthfully, you’d had a fight the year before when your aunt had told your mother that your art was sinful. You hadn’t been to Friday dinners since. It worked out well for everyone.

“You mean to tell me, this whole time, my patron saint of the arts has been home alone every Friday night?”

“I have friends, Eddie. I do things other than stitch stupid patches to your clothes,”

“Ouch,” Eddie replied, loving when you were a bit mean. “Firstly, they’re not stupid. Secondly, circling back. You’re free?”

…

“What if he, like, is a cult leader? What if he's going to try to sacrifice you to Satan tonight?” your friend joked, their laugh echoing down the line.

You’d called them for advice. It was a simple question. Should you stay in the clothes he’d seen you in that day or should you change?

“Honestly, it would be a cool way to go, I guess,” you replied. “But seriously. If I change, does that say something?”

“Say something? Like what?”

Like you were trying to impress him. Because you weren’t. Definitely not. Nope. Capital N and O. You almost wanted to prove the point so badly you considered wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt, but just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

Ultimately, you ran out of time and stayed in the outfit you’d worn to school.

Eddie, however, had changed. When you opened the door to his tuned knocking, it was the first thing you noticed.

Gone were the ripped-up blue Levi’s he’d been wearing. No Hellfire Club shirt. Instead, Eddie was wearing black jeans that tucked into his Reeboks neatly. His Goonies t-shirt was clean, and the red plaid button-up shirt looked soft. His newest vest was over that, finishing off a look that was a little too organised.

The cherry on top though, was that he had definitely just showered and washed his hair. The curls were at their most fluffy.

It was perfect; you had something you could immediately shred him for.

“Didn’t realise we were meeting the Queen,” you quipped. Eddie rolled his eyes. “Is that a new shirt?”

“Yeah, alright, alright,” Eddie replied, pushing you by the shoulders back into the house. “Just let me in.”

You were still sniggering at him when he came inside, looking around. He was happy to see your house wasn’t cookie cutter pristine.

“Can I see your room?” he asked then, no pretence.

Eddie was fascinated. He’d only dreamed the inside of your room would be this… weird. You had room for art and sleep but hardly anything else. Every surface of your room was covered with art supplies, books, cassettes, and the most eclectic collection of objects Eddie had seen.

Each time he spied something he’d given you, his pulse increased just a little. Enough that it was giving him confidence.

You sat on your bed, happy to let Eddie look around. Maybe he’d ask about some of the treasures, maybe not. Whatever. With The Head on the Door vinyl spinning, you felt at ease, pulling one of your latest D.I.Y. hobbies out to distract yourself with.

When the record ran its course, Eddie flipped it to Side B, kicked his shoes off, and joined you on your bed.

“What are you making?”

“Bracelet,” you answered.

Eddie watched you thread pastel pinks and purples onto elastic string. You were about to ask what he wanted to do, then you saw his expression. He wasn’t bored. He was focused on your hands, watching.

“So…” you said. Eddie’s eyes flicked to you. “Where’s my payment?”

For a second Eddie looked confused, then he caught up, then he looked embarrassed. “Fuck. Left it in the van. I’ll be back.”

Eddie had forgotten it because he was nervous as fuck when he pulled up to your house. Obviously, though, he didn’t tell you that.

Upon his return, you were tying a knot in the bracelet and moving your supplies away. He sat back down and handed you the bag. It was a gift bag. You raised an eyebrow at him and he just shrugged.

Inside was a denim vest. New. Your size. Arms already cut off haphazardly.

“I figured, you’ve got so good at sewing patches, you might wanna do your own. You know. If you see any around you like. And, um, I got this one for you.”

He pulled a patch from his pocket. The Doors. God, you loved Jim Morrison.

You didn’t know what to say. It was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for you. Eddie had thought of you, a lot. Enough that he went out and found you a denim jacket to cut into a vest. He looked for a patch for a band you liked. He bought a goddamn gift bag.

Eddie was waiting, holding his breath almost. This was it. Whatever your reaction, it would make or break it for him.

The tears had welled up in your eyes before you could chastise yourself for making it weird.

“Did I do good?” he asked full of sincerity.

“Eddie,” you started but didn’t really have the words. You launched yourself across the small space between you and him, letting him catch you in a hug.

It’s the first time he had really touched you. And it wasn’t just touching. Holding. He was holding you.

It felt like trauma when you pulled away, falling back on your butt in your cross-legged position. He didn’t know what to say when you pulled your beads and strings back over and started on another bracelet.

Eddie watched you pick out specific beads. Black and different shades of red. Letters. Hellfire?

“What are you making?” he asked.

“I’ll make you a Hellfire bracelet,” you said, not taking your eyes off the task.

“I’ll make you something then.”

Later, Eddie held his hand out to you when you announced you were done. As you slid the bracelet on and let him look at it careful, you felt another wave of pure adoration wash over you.

“I’m not done with mine,” he told you.

“That’s alright. I’ll order pizza,” you replied, rolling off the bed and looking under stacks of old magazines and pretty paper for your bedroom’s phone.

While Eddie beaded, accidentally dropping all the beads off his string multiple times, you moved over to your desk.

You both worked, happy just to be in each other’s company.

“Alright. Can’t promise the integrity of this, but it’s the thought that counts,” Eddie said, a break for dinner and couple of records later.

You had returned to the bed and started on another beaded project when he announced he was finished. When you held your hand out, he took it and placed a kiss on the top. Then, he carefully placed his craft project around your wrist.

“It took me all fucking night to find those letters,” Eddie explained, tying a knot in the string that meant you’d not be able to remove the bracelet without breaking it. Fine by you.

Of course, the bracelet read patron saint of the arts. Between each alphabetic bead were random colourful ones. It was like he had a homing beacon for the one-offs and odd-one-outs in your extensive bead collection.

“I love it,” you told him.

He beamed. “What’s that?” he asked, turning his attention to what you were doing.

“It’s for you. Get me one of your shoes,” you told him.

Eddie’s confused expression was cute and you liked that he didn’t question everything. He reached down and picked up one of his Reeboks, handing it to you.

“I don’t know if you want that on your bed,” he said with a frown.

You used your jewellery plyers to attach small clasps to each end of the wire of beads. One end was clipped to the top left eyelet, then you clipped the other to the top right side, letting the beads fall along the back.

“Shoe charm,” you said.

It was a line of rainbow coloured alphabet beads, spelling out Corroded Coffin. It really gave his old shoes an extra layer of personality. Eddie thought it was strange as hell.

“Never thought I’d see Corroded Coffin written in rainbow colours,” Eddie marvelled through his toothy smile.

Eddie pulled on the shoe, then his other. He stood and spun on the spot, stuck his feet out like he was… modelling? Maybe? You laughed.

“Beautiful,” you told him.

Eddie looked at you, dramatically fell to his knees, and shuffled over to kneel next to you. You moved to the edge of the bed, laid down so you were face to face with him.

“You’re beautiful,” he told you.

“So cheesy,” you whispered back.

Eddie shrugged, rested his head on your bed, his face inches away from yours.

He knew you’d kiss him back. You’d invited him into your room, made him things, and laughed at all his dumb jokes. Still, he was nervous.

The record finished, the crackling audible for the first time that night. Everything felt so still.

Eddie leaned over, waited for you to lean into him. When you did, he kissed you. Despite what he knew, he still felt a little shock when you kissed him back.

…

After that, there was no stopping Eddie. His affection was endless. There were notes hidden in your school locker. Your favourite drink in his trailer’s fridge. Constant gifting of anything bizarre he could get his hands on, and he couldn’t walk into a store without buying something for you too.

It was that, his sudden increased spending, that had him in the kitchen of the trailer on a Friday night, wearing one of your homemade floral aprons.

“Absolutely not,” Eddie said, grabbing the Polaroid camera from your hands before you had the chance to take a photo.

“What?! Next time someone says you worship Satan, I’ll whip it out, show them you’re actually just a domesticated big soft teddy bear,” you argued, jumping and circling him, trying to get the camera back.

“That rumour is the only thing that gets people coming to see us at The Hideout. Can’t let you ruin it, babe,”

“What about if we make a trade. That’s what we do, right?” you asked, standing in front of him. You could see you’d piqued his interest. “Let me take a photo of you now. You can take one of me later,”

“Later? What’s later?” Eddie replied, his pupils blown out at the thought of what it could be. You just shrugged, smiled sweetly. “Deal.”

The photo was perfectly ridiculous. Eddie said if you were going to do it, you may as well go big or go home. You watched as he stripped down to underwear, then put the floral apron back on. He picked up the mixing bowl you had set out on the bench, and the wooden spoon. The pose was theatrical. His expression was manic. And you were in love.

“Are you gonna put your clothes back on?” you asked him as you shook the Polaroid.

“Do you want me to?”

“I don’t care,” you answered honestly.

Eddie smiled, happy with that.

“So, why are we making brownies?” you asked him, turning your attention to the bench of ingredients and tools.

“Well,” he said, pulling a large tin out of a cupboard. Inside was weed. “Since I have this drop dead gorgeous girlfriend now, I gotta make sure the cash is flowing. You know. Just in case I wanna buy her roses, or take her out for dinner,”

“You have never bought me roses,” you interrupted.

“Who says I’m talking about you?” Eddie countered, waiting for your sulky pouty face. On cue, there it was. He laughed and pulled you into a kiss. “Next to expand the business. Since Rick got put in the slammer, there’s a gap in the market,”

“For?”

“Space cake. Hash brownie. An edible good time,” Eddie told you, the different terms rolling off his tongue in different voices.

You were interested to learn the weed couldn’t just be put into the brownie batter. Amused, you watched Eddie fuss over his perfect THC butter. The whole trailer very quickly smelt so strongly of dope that it was definitely going to linger.

“What’s Wayne gonna say when he gets home?” you asked, lighting some incense and putting it on the small coffee table.

“Probably ‘where’s mine?’” Eddie replied.

Eddie was a good student, despite what any of his teachers would say. He listened intently, took your anecdotal advice, and learnt how to make brownies. You watched as he took notes in his book, which he said wasn’t a journal but definitely was.

At the end of the process, the batch was complete.

“We let them cool, then we can cut them up. How are you gonna package your product?”

Eddie measured, cut, and wrapped each brownie in cling wrap then put two per plastic zip lock bag. You sat on the lounge side of the kitchen bench, drawing on sticker paper that you had in your bag because you carried art supplies like Eddie did his light and lockpick.

Moons, stars, and colourful planets. Space cakes with cute labels. How could any stoner refuse?

…

“Babe?! Babe! What the fuck is this?”

There was genuine panic in Eddie’s voice, very different from the one he used only moments before when he greeted you.

He had returned from a quick business transaction to find you waiting for him in the trailer. You weren’t missing him though; Wayne was sitting on the couch watching television while you were parked in front of the coffee table, doing something crafty.

Eddie loved that you and Wayne had become friends. Family, almost. Wayne would call you his daughter-in-law and you’d spoil him with his favourite cookies. The hand painted mug you gave him for Father’s Day took pride of place in his collection.

When Eddie returned, saw your set up, he offered a simple greeting to the room and went to change. That’s when-

“BABE?!”

You bit back a laugh.

“Told ya,” Wayne said from behind you.

Eddie appeared, holding his box of cassettes.

“Surprise,” you said, smiling up at him.

There was a very nervous grin on his face and he was studying your expression, trying to work out if there was a punchline he’d missed.

“You know I love your art. Loved it when you painted my wall. Loved it painted the van. But, ah, did you do this to all my tapes?”

Eddie’s cassettes were painted in bright colours. Flowers and hearts. Clouds and rainbows. Whatever music they held was no longer clear, the original labels ripped off and discarded entirely.

“Do you love them?” you asked, standing up.

Eddie’s head tilted to the side a little. He spotted the sparkle of a challenge in your eye.

“Yes. I love them. I love you,” he said.

You made a small happy squeaking sound and sat back on the floor, returning to your project. As Eddie walked back to his room you looked over at Wayne, who was sporting a signature Munson shit eating grin.

“Ed?!” you called after your boyfriend. “Check the bottom drawer on the left!”

A pause. The sound of him searching. “Jesus H. Christ. You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Eddie had opened the drawer to find his beloved tape collection. You’d only painted the ones that were copies or mixtapes.

Eddie reappeared, moving quickly, and you were screaming before he’d even pounced, tackling you from your spot on the floor to being laid out, at the mercy of his tickle attack.

“Alright kids, get a room,” Wayne mumbled.

…

Eddie followed you up and down the aisles like a freshly imprinted duckling.

“You don’t have to be here,” you reminded him. You weren’t the clingy type, still happy to have your own things and spend time with your friends or alone.

Eddie, however, was the opposite. You were invited to Hellfire and band practice and even deals. “Yeah, I’d love to spend an afternoon driving around in the van while you sell ketamine to fifteen-year-olds,” you’d replied to the offer with a snort.

“Hey! I’ve got principles; K is strictly a sixteen and over drug!”

You didn’t mind Eddie’s nature. It made you feel wanted and adored. The only times you’d maybe wish for a little more independence on his part is when you were op shop hopping.

Eddie would follow you through each store, sometimes making his way over to where weird knick-knacks sat on dusty shelves, but mostly just acting as a shadow.

“I wanna be here. I’m helping,” Eddie said.

“Helping?” You laughed. “Actually. You could. Go over to the guys’ section. I’m looking for any cool t-shirt that’s my size, but maybe a little bit bigger.”

Eddie stood to attention, saluted, kissed you on the cheek, and went off to fulfill his boyfriend duties.

When he returned to you a little later, he presented an armful of options, each with explanation for why he thought it met the requirement of ‘cool.’

“First up, we have a promotional shirt for the Stephen King adaptation film Cujo,” Eddie started, holding up the black shirt featuring the terrifying evil dog.

“Too scary. Pass,” you said, shaking your head.

“Too scary,” Eddie repeated, mumbling under his breath. “Fuck. Alright. This will please her majesty. The tastiest beverage in all the land. Dr Pepper M.D.”

The deep red t-shirt was the perfect size for your project. And, you did love Dr Pepper. You rewarded Eddie with a quick kiss.

“But wait! There’s more!”

A hideous yellow thing sporting the artwork for Men In Hat’s The Safety Dance. “That, uh, makes me wanna die a little,” you told Eddie.

He nodded. “Me too. I’m getting it for Wayne,”

“He’ll hate it,”

“I know. I just want to see his face.”

The last piece in Eddie’s collection was too big, but you could make it work and it would be totally worth it. Tie-died blues and purples sat behind a ginger cat riding a skateboard.

“You left the best to last I see,”

“Gotta finish on a high note.”

Back at your place, you hijacked your mother’s sewing room and set up. Eddie laid on the floor, scribbling secret lyrics or whatever into his journal (“It’s not a journal!”).

Once you had figured out a workable pattern, the cutting and sewing were easy. You liked the white noise of the sewing machine and having human puppy dog Eddie Munson at your feet always acted like serotonin in your system.

The t-shirts became dresses. You cut the sleeves off, replacing them with frills of contrasting fabric. The bottom hems were moved to sit around your waist, and skirts to match the sleeves added more ruffles.

You changed into your new Dr Pepper dress in your bedroom, returning to the sewing room to show Eddie; he beamed at you.

“She’s hot and she’s talented,” he said with a grin, reaching up to touch the ruffles.

“Think you can get me a Corroded Coffin shirt? I can make a dress to wear to the shows,”

“I don’t know if The Hideout can handle the fashion of it all,” Eddie replied, standing and pulling you into a hug.

“Or I could make you one,” you suggested, kissing his neck and nuzzling against him.

“I’ve already got my eye on this one,” he revealed, letting you go and reaching over for the skateboard cat dress.

Eddie pulled his Dio shirt off, then the dress over his head. He did an unhinged interpretation of a pirouette.

“Wait, you’ve gotta take your jeans off. Commit to the bit, Munson,” you instructed, laughing but also feeling heat begin to pool in your belly.

Once his jeans were peeled away and he was standing in front of you in a dress that matched yours, you paused, taking it in.

Eddie went quiet too, watching you watch him. He was reading your eyes and the way your lips were beginning to turn up at the sides.

“Did… we… just discover… something?” he asked, choosing his words carefully. His tone was measured, soft.

You bit your bottom lip.

“Oh, Jesus!” a voice shrieked from behind you. Turning, you watched your mum push the door open wider. “I don’t even wanna know… Edward, are you staying for dinner?”

“Uh, sure. Yes. Thank you. Ma’am,” Eddie said, adding too many unnecessary words to his nervous acceptance. “Thanks. For your hospitality.”

Your mum just shook her head and left the room.

“I love that she calls you Edward. Feels illegal,”

“Think she’s gonna tell anybody ‘bout this?” he asked, stepping close to you, pulling you back into him.

“Nah. She represses anything weird she can’t explain,”

“Too bad. This would do amazingly in the Hawkins rumour mill… Anyway… Don’t think I’m gonna forgot that little reaction.”

You smiled up at him, kissed his neck, his throat. “Good.”

…

“Can I borrow these?” you asked.

Eddie looked over at you from where he was sitting stretched out on his bed, leaning back against the wall, playing his acoustic guitar.

You’d been listening to him all afternoon. Sometimes there would be melodies you recognised, sometimes not. Even metal sounded sweet filtered through lazy, slow, notes void of electricity and distortion.

 “Show me.”

Holding up the small tobacco tin you found, you showed Eddie the collection of picks. They weren’t the ones he used to play. They were collectors’ items, caught in the air at shows or bought from record stores in the city.

“Borrow or keep?”

“Borrow,” you confirmed, which Eddie knew was code for ‘I’m gonna do some sort of craft project with these but I promise it will be good.’

A couple weeks later it was your one-year anniversary. 1986 was over; you’d graduated, pulling Eddie along with you. There were too many possible futures ahead of you both, but it was easy to forget about the world beyond you and Eddie.

A midnight picnic was set up overlooking Lover’s Lake. Eddie basked in your praise, knowing he did good. There were blankets and all your favourite snacks.

“You made sandwiches?!” you squealed.

“Uh-huh. Cut the crusts off and everything.”

After cucumber and cheese and Dr Pepper and Peanut Butter Cups, you tangled yourselves up, listening to the trees move in the warm breeze.

Eddie started at the tips of your fingers, kissing lines down your palms, wrists, and arms. He kissed over paint that hadn’t washed off your skin and scars from craft knives and sewing pins. He kissed down over your ribcage and soft belly.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered into your body.

“I know,”

“Don’t think you do. But I can prove it.”

You looked at him, thinking it was another cheesy line before he disappeared between your legs. Cheesy lines then sex was a signature Eddie Munson move. Instead, though, he stood and went back to the van.

Rolling onto your stomach, you watched him get into the back, then return quickly with a rectangular shaped gift.

“Wait. Let me get mine!” You fished your small box from your bag.

Sitting opposite each other, you gifted first. The bracelet you’d crafted made a gentle tinkling sound as the metal and picks moved.

“Is it too, I don’t know, girly?” you asked, watching how it sat on his wrist.

Eddie cocked an eyebrow. Yeah, you knew; it was stupid to ask when the two of you had been fucking around with gender for a while.

“I love it, babe. You’re a little crafty goblin and I love you,” he reassured, leaning over to kiss the tip of your nose.

You pushed him away. “Goblin?!”

“Yeah. I love goblins. Alright, my turn,” he continued, handing you your gift and not letting you dwell on the name-calling. “I was looking for inspiration, and I found some old photos. Did you know we actually met in elementary school?”

“What? We did?”

As you unwrapped the gift, Eddie told his story.

“Yeah. Never mentioned it, ‘cause I figured you’d forgotten. Don’t worry. My ego isn’t harmed. Wasn’t much of me to remember then. But I’ve always remembered you.”

His gift to you was a framed collage. At the centre was a photo of yourself you’d never seen. You were standing, small and proud, with a tree sapling in your hand. Next to you was a hole in the ground, then Eddie holding a spade. His small, maybe ten-year-old face wasn’t as smiley as yours, but he didn’t seem too disgruntled.

“They did this thing where a few kids from each grade got together to go plant trees or pick up trash. The older kids were meant to help the little ones. I was your buddy. And, we made it into the yearbook.”

Studying the photo, you willed your brain to access the memory of that day. Nothing. You couldn’t even remember having yearbooks from elementary school.

Surrounding the photo in the frame were Polaroids of you and Eddie, tickets to movies and shows you’d been to, and other mementos of your time together. It was the old photo though, that your attention kept ripping back to.

At first, you thought the love heart drawn around you was part of Eddie’s collaging project, but looking closer, it seemed faded, and it wasn’t the type of heart you recognised from his locker letters.

“I went home that day and told Wayne about you. He teased me. Said I was too young to have a girlfriend. Then when I told him you were a couple years below me, he teased me more. But I knew I loved ya then. I was fucking ecstatic when we got the yearbook and that photo was in it. I drew those dumb hearts all over the page.”

Eddie was rambling because you still hadn’t said anything. He’d spent a good couple of hours making the collage, continually asking Wayne if it was any good. “Is she gonna think this is creepy?” Eddie had asked his uncle, terrified that you wouldn’t understand what he was trying to tell you.

“When I found that again… I thought… I don’t know. That I’ve loved you my whole life. Or whatever.”

That he’d loved you his whole life.

Tears began to stream down your face, you dropped the frame to the side and threw yourself into his arms. Eddie laughed and breathed out loudly. Sweet relief.

There were so many things you wanted to say. You wanted to tell him you loved him and that you were sorry for not remembering and that he was wonderful and so, so good. Instead –

“Why the fuck didn’t you talk to me sooner?!”

Eddie laughed again, a cackling sound of disbelief.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I’m the town freak and you’re walking around here like a goddamn saint,”

“I’m not-” you tried, but couldn’t fathom a version of events where you weren’t going to love him back. “I’m-”

“A funny little goblin that hoards shiny things and makes weird shit? Yeah. I know that now,” Eddie finished for you. “I love you. That’s… That’s the point. Of all this. I’m so fucking in love with you.”

You kissed him like your life depended on it. Like it could make up for not remembering and not being brave enough to talk to him sooner and for ever thinking you’d just sew the one patch on and be done with him.

“I love you too,” you told him, half into his mouth as he nodded and tried to reattach himself to you.

He knew. Eddie knew you loved him, and he was quite pleased with himself. He was pleased with how his anniversary midnight picnic was panning out.

Eddie was the type of guy to admire from afar. And he did. For years. He was confident, sure, and definitely a flirt, and now that part of his head that kept him from walking up to you and asking you out every goddamn day… Well, it was silenced.

If he lingered in self-reflective thoughts, you were there too. Existentialism didn’t have much of a chance to drag him down when he was wearing dresses you’d made and was gifted things his mind couldn’t dream up. He might have been the town freak, but he was yours too, and you loved him for it.

End note: I’m a crafty, arty bitch so this was so self-serving. T-shirt turned cute as fuck dress inspired by My Poor Purse.

Here's some images I used as inspo for this fic:

[not-krys]

Rating: Teen and Up Pairing: Vincent van Gogh x Abigail Clarke (OC) Summary: Abby anxiously waits for Vincent to come home during a storm. Notes: Original Character, OC x Canon, implied route end spoilers but nothing specific, fluff, pregnancy, lightly suggestive towards the end, implied semi-nudity, wearing your man's shirt like you own it, little bits of Dutch, not beta-read. WC: 1,649

My entry for @aquagirl1978's creator challenge 'A Series of Firsts' using the prompt 'First Child' along with a prompt from my own 100 Theme's Challenge 'In the Storm.'

Check out my masterlist!

Also on ao3!

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Abby stood by the window, watching nervously as the rain fell in buckets to the ground below. She curled her fingers in front of her mouth, trying to stop herself from pacing.

She shouldn't have told Vincent about wanting some strawberries. She should have looked out at the weather. She should have stopped Vincent from going out, that she would have been fine going without.

Yet, he still insisted with a gentle tap on her belly.

"Just like your Oom Theo, I see." he had said with a smile.

Now, she was trying not to pace in front of the window waiting for him. He had already been gone half an hour by the time she heard the first crack of thunder. Had he been caught outside in the storm? She hoped not. Yet, it was coming up on the hour and Vincent still hadn't returned. She was worried. He hadn't taken his phone with him as he thought he wasn't going to be gone long enough to need it.

Stepping in front of the window, Abby caught her reflection in the glass, the raindrops quickly sliding down and breaking up her image. She ran her hand down her front, the journey down longer than it used to be. It had been a stormy day like today when she had first told Vincent that she was expecting, she remembered. She had been so scared and nervous then, wondering how Vincent would react, if they were even ready to be parents when they could barely afford to live in their current apartment. There was barely even any room for the crib they had bought second hand next to their bed.

She took a breath to calm herself, gazing at her reflection in the rain-soaked window with her twenty-week belly benignly stretching her shirt.

"You're being silly, Abigail," she said aloud. "Vincent will be home soon. He's probably waiting under an awning for the storm to lighten up. O-or in a shop, maybe. O-or maybe stopped somewhere to sketch something, even in the storm."

She chuckled softly.

"Yes, that does sound like something he would do. No need for all these butterflies in your tummy. He's perfectly fine."

Looking down as she lifted her long shirt, she rubbed her belly.

"Sorry that your mama is so nervous. Must not be much fun for you, sharing space with such a worrisome mama, nervous butterflies and all that."

She sat in a nearby chair, continuing her little massage.

"You've grown so much already, haven't you, little guy?" She smiled. "I can't wait to see what you look like. If you've got your papa's eyes… his nose… O-or maybe you'll take after your Oom Theo instead? Oh, Oom means uncle in Dutch! That's the language your papa speaks and I'm learning it with you as your papa teaches me. A-and your Oom Theo is your papa's little brother. I-I mean his younger brother, he's certainly not little like you are right now."

She looked over at the side table, a small assortment of photos arranged with a framed sonogram picture in the middle.

"He might have acted mean …a lot of the time, always teasing me and calling me hondje, but I know Theo would've loved to meet you. All of the mansion residents would have, I think. You would've had so many uncles looking after you."

The rain pattered against the glass, softer now.

"My family? Sorry, I don't talk about them much. Well… I'm sure that my auntie would love to meet you too. Maybe pinch your cheeks. She did that to me a lot when I was younger. I haven't seen her in a long time, not since I ...came back."

She started to laugh again, but the sound drifted off. Her voice turned somber, hands curling around her belly.

"Your papa and I don't have much," she said, "and I wish we could provide more for you, but I hope that, more than anything, you’ll know that you are very, very much loved."

She looked out at the window again, the room turning quiet once more.

Then, she heard the door opening and heard a few distantly muttered Dutch words. She was on her feet before she knew it and raced towards the door, seeing Vincent soaked from head to toe, his blond locks heavy with rain. He brightened up when he saw her.

"I'm home, schatje." He said warmly.

"Vincent!" Abby said, taking his face into her hands. "You were caught in the storm, weren't you? I'm so sorry."

"It's alright. The green grocer and I got to talking, so I didn't notice how long it had been. He gave me some advice about helping you out since he and his wife have four children already, expecting a fifth one soon."

"F-five children?"

"Yes, five. That's how many siblings I had, actually."

"It.. It sounds like a lot."

"Maybe we can ask him about playdates once our little one is old enough. Their youngest would be around the same age as ours."

"Next time we see him, w-we'll ask him about it." Abby said, brushing back his wet hair. "But you need to dry off first. You're still soaking wet."

"Ahaha, yes." He set his bag in the kitchen, peeling off his wet shirt. He then smiled as he noticed something. "Did you start the laundry before I left?"

Abby's back was turned, looking for some towels for Vincent.

"I started to, but then it started raining, so nothing is dry at the moment."

"So, no clean clothes?" Vincent walked up to her.

"Nothing dry, anyway. I had to hang them in the bathroom so they could-" Abby then realized what she said. "Oh no, there's nothing for you to wear!"

Vincent laughed.

"Well, there was one shirt I could wear, but..." He trailed off.

"But?"

He tugged at her shirt, the hem just a little too long for her, even with her belly noticeable under the fabric.

"You're wearing my last clean shirt."

Abby flushed pink in realization. Vincent chuckled happily as he turned her around.

"Next trip out," he said, still tugging at the shirt hem. "We'll get some more shirts like mine for you to wear, since you like wearing them so much."

"J-just for doing laundry! I can still wear my regular clothes!"

"And around the apartment. And when you sleep sometimes."

"Vincent!"

"I don't mind at all," he laughed. "I think you look cute in my shirts."

Vincent pulled in closer, the scent of the rain enveloping her as his hand pressed on her belly.

"I missed you two, when I was out."

Abby smiled, holding his hand in place despite the damp spot it was creating.

"We missed you too. And I was worried.. when I heard the thunder start."

He leaned in and kissed her, droplets sliding onto her face and tickling her.

"Sorry for worrying you. It's not good to let you fret so much, schatje, especially with all these butterflies in your tummy."

"I know but I can't-" she paused, putting Vincent's hand back where it was. "You… you can feel this too? I-I thought it was just me being anxious but…"

"Abby?"

"M-maybe it's not me, but I've… I've felt this when I started talking to him earlier, t-to calm myself and-!"

Both of their eyes widened, having felt the same thing.

"He kicked…" Abby said.

"Our baby's kicking." Vincent echoed her.

"Our baby…" Abby repeated, looking up at Vincent.

He enveloped her in a tight hug, a squeak escaping her.

"Vincent! Now your last shirt is wet too!"

"Ahaha, sorry, just… our son is kicking! Kicking!"

"He is.." Abby said with a smile, not caring anymore that she's wet too. "He's kicking, Vincent."

He kissed her again, harder this time, his clammy hands rubbing over her.

"Vi-Vincent…"

"Oh, I did get my last shirt wet, didn't I?"

His chilled hands slipped under her shirt, making her jump as he pressed into her warm skin.

"You're so cold!"

"And you’re very warm, schatje."

He lifted the fabric higher, pulling it over and off of her, revealing her fully to him.

"Y-you should still get dried off first…"

"If I can keep touching you, you can dry me off. Our son is kicking, I don't want to miss this."

His cold hands pressed on her bare belly again, making her jump and shiver.

"But, I need to get you a towel…"

"Use my shirt."

"Vincent-"

He touched her again, his normally gentle blue eyes darker with need.

"Please."

Abby sighed and started to rub his hair with his shirt, humming as she got into her task. 

Soon, Vincent’s hands warmed up as he looked at her, glowing with happiness. The rain had stopped outside, a little rainbow breaking through the dark clouds, illuminating the couple with warm sunlight through the window. Once Abby was done drying his hair, Vincent laid his head on her shoulder, looking down at her semi-bared form.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “Do you still feel him kicking?”

“He’s calmed down, I think. Maybe he tired himself out?”

“Maybe.” He ran his fingers down her belly one last time, stopping when he felt it rumbling.

Abby flushed red and looked away.

“I… remembered that you’d brought home the strawberries I wanted.”

Vincent laughed and kissed her cheek.

“Well, now you both can have some strawberries, to get your strengths back up.”

“But, neither of us are wearing shirts. Nor do we have anything clean or dry to wear.”

“Easier clean up, schatje.”

“J-just be sure that the door’s locked. I don’t want the neighbors to see us like this.”

“Ja.”

Abby’s face was still red as Vincent pulled away, noting that his pants were still wet as he walked away, but felt redder at the thought of bringing it up and stayed silent with a sigh.

[insanelyadd]

Collector and Archivist Family Headcanons

I got one person who said they wanted to see this when I asked, so this is for you. <3

Before I get into describing the relationships of the siblings (Which I think I did a really good job writing and describing), it is important you know a few background details (that are also headcanons). As a little heads up warning, under the cut there will be mentions of: Imprisonment, neglect, abuse, manipulation, toxic family dynamics, child murder (the Titans), murder (also the Titans), abandonment, guilt, PTSD(?). I think that's it. Let me know which of the Archivists are your least favorite, I'm keeping track and so far one of them is ahead by a lot.

As a reminder this is what My Archivists look like, I swear to god tumblr if you tank the image quality when I publish this:

Free headcanon before we transition to under the read more: I gave The Collector and The Archivists "true names" (and in the Archivist's case, specific code names) because I have a HC that the reason we never learn any "normal" names for any of them is that if a mortal knows a Collector's True Name then that mortal (non-Collector) has power over them. Their magic no longer has much, if any, effect, and they can be harmed by the mortal.

They had one parent named Nebula who used xey/xem pronouns. Their parent has been imprisoned for trying to raise xeir children to believe contrary to the extremism of destroying planets when people get mad about their loved ones being kidnapped, which would probably reflect onto the children that their parent cared more about xeir contrarian morality than them, since xey definitely would have known what would happen when/if xey were caught. They have to have had a parent because the large age disparity between the eldest Archivist and the Collector would typically imply a more parental role, so they need to have all shared a parent.

When the other Collectors came to arrest Nebula, xey tried to fight it so xey could stay with xeir children but xey were easily outnumbered and overpowered. After Nebula were apprehended, the other Collectors began to round up the children so they could be brought to new adult(s) to be raised “properly”, but once they noticed Penumbra was roughly adult age, they asked her if she would be willing to become their caretaker, as otherwise the other children may all be separated, because who would want to suddenly accept 5 new children, including an infant. So Penumbra took on all this responsibility herself to prevent them from being separated.

Sketch of the happy family after these events, now with finalized designs.

Next info bit relates to a theory I have about how the room where Phillip found the Collector's disk could not have been made by the Titan ("Ah yeah lemme teleport this into my skull where I have conveniently made a locked door to put it behind") or Titan Trappers (they would have absolutely taken the disk instead), so this room had to have been made by SOMEBODY and the most likely candidate is the Archivists. To expand upon this, I believe they absolutely had access to Titan Blood and the Disk and chose to leave the Collector behind.

They most likely did this because whoever found the disk would very quickly find out they need Titan's blood or a Titan's help to release the Collector, in any case, the last Titan would need to be hatched, and accessible. The Archivists very likely assumed that he would return to them and when that happened they'd go back to the planet to finish what they started (killing the last Titan if they were not already killed to release them, and then possibly microwaving the planet).

They need to stop taking family photos after one of them is imprisoned, now with finalized designs.

NOW FOR THEIR RELATIONSHIPS!

Nebula, the Archivists' parent, loves all of xeir children dearly, and hopes they are all doing well without xem.

Penumbra:

Penumbra had a very good relationship with Nebula, but after xey were imprisoned for raising them "wrong", Penumbra resents xem. Xeir actions led to Penumbra being forced to raise four children all by herself while she, herself, was barely an adult by the standards of Collector society (I'd say 16 but simultaneously I'm assigning numbers for convenience to myself rather than it being a true translation of their ages as I feel many of our concepts of aging and other things are not be truly cross-compatible). Taking care of a teenager (14), two children (8), and a toddler (2), all while trying to continue to do her duties as a Collector (starting at the Collector equivalent of 8 years old they can assist on Collections, so Satellite, Solari, and Crescent all would have been able to help to varying degrees) would have been extremely stressful for her and it strained her relationship with all of her younger siblings.

She gets along best with Crescent since he was old enough to be almost entirely self-sufficient, though she was still very immature. They would occasionally come to points of contention specifically about how much Crescent should be allowed to do, with both of them having different perspectives on what she can do and what he can't do. Penumbra felt like he should contribute more on Collections and play less with Cosmos (the Collector), while Crescent felt like she should be allowed to help care for and watch Cosmos more since Penumbra assigning herself as sole caretaker of them was very obviously wearing her out. This would ease as Crescent got older, but as Cosmos also got older and less dependent, Penumbra became less stressed which made Crescent press less about caring for him, though she still enjoyed spending time with them (if any of the Archivists were likely to want children it would be Crescent). 

Penumbra has a much more tense relationship with Satellite who took Nebula's imprisonment the hardest. Penumbra feels like Satellite resented her for the role she was forced to fill as their new sole caretaker. Satellite became much more quick to anger and was openly hostile when in a bad mood, which is ultimately why Penumbra decided they should be the Cartographer, because it gave them a lot of time by themself, since it seemed so obvious to her that they couldn't stand their own family. Penumbra also has a bitterness towards Satellite for their repeated verbal abuse towards Cosmos. All she wanted was for them to play nice with their baby brother so she could have a moment alone with her thoughts, or to work on projects and sometimes it worked, but it is impossible for her to tell when Satellite is in a bad mood (since they suppress their emotions until they explode) until she hears them screaming and Cosmos crying and has to show up to yell at Satellite and comfort Cosmos.

Penumbra has a horrible relationship with Solari. Unless they are speaking on official matters regarding their jobs, Solari has a tendency to undercut everything with sarcasm and disdain. Solari only ever seems truly happy and genuine when deep in thought categorizing and organizing the Archives, which was something Penumbra picked up on quite quickly, seeing how organized and easy to find everything in their room was, especially compared to the random hordes of assorted trinkets present in Crescent and Satellite's rooms (and her own if she felt like being honest), and assigned her as the Archive’s Curator. Penumbra feels like Solari needs to be preoccupied with other tasks while interacting with anyone because she otherwise expends her excess mental energy to be snide and cold to people, like they want to tell jokes but she's too mean or emotionally distant to bother thinking of ones that aren't cruel. Penumbra also DEEPLY dislikes Solari's tendency to be rough with Cosmos when she sends him off to play with them. He doesn't seem to mind the shooting star game, as long as he isn't thrown into objects or so far away they can't find their way back, but Solari does things that scare Cosmos and piss off Penumbra, like boxing him into small spaces or stomping their foot hard enough for the floor to crack right in front of him, or punching walls and slamming doors when she’s aggravated about them being around. She's never actually hurt them on purpose, with a few accidental times resulting in Solari immediately apologizing, healing him if necessary, and leaving him alone. But if the day ever comes where they do hurt him on purpose Penumbra is fully prepared to wring their neck and lock her in her room for 100 years, impeccable talent for organizing be damned.

Penumbra has a complicated relationship with Cosmos. She is their older sister but also effectively their mother, having been his sole caretaker for a majority of his life, but she’s also exhausted by him. She raised Cosmos from a literal infant into a curious and playful child. Unfortunately the playfulness and curiosity are a non-stop feature and not one that only conveniently exists when she wants a break from her duties or when she's giving him his lessons on their culture, the universe, or their vast Collection. She also gets easily frustrated with them just like the twins do, but she prides herself in being able to easily dismiss those feelings despite her bone deep burnout for childcare. She sends him on tasks in the Archives, uses the cultures of the beings she’s observing at any given time to concoct new games for him to play, or redirects them to any of the other available siblings. She loves them very much but she also desperately wanted a break from him.

Crescent:

Crescent had the worst relationship with Nebula, which isn’t to say it was even bad, but that once she found out that xey were breaking their laws by teaching them all “incorrectly”, he turned xem in. Crescent much prefers the rules as they are Meant To Be, because the way Nebula taught them was much less efficient, which is what she prefers. It wasn’t until the incident with the Titans that he became more openly gleeful about ending the lives of mortals, before then it remained largely just another part of her duties as a Collector. Nobody knows how other Collectors found out about Nebula doing this, and Crescent knows better than to tell his siblings about this.

Crescent feels like an equal to Penumbra, in that they both are the eldest, with only a few “years” apart from each other, and he is given free reign to make executive decisions while performing her duties on planets alone. She still has a slight bitterness about Penumbra refusing to let him help raise Cosmos, because she believes if Penumbra was less stressed she would have lashed out less to Satellite and Solari, and blames her for some of their behavioral issues. For the most part though he doesn’t let these feelings interfere at all with how he interacts with her, because they are The Charmer, and she prides herself on being able to be incredibly charismatic, smoothing over moments of tension between Penumbra and the Twins easily, lying to and manipulating mortals even more easily.

Crescent silently despises Satellite. She would never let it slip how she really feels about them, but inside whenever they are forced to interact she is constantly imagining scenarios in which it may be appropriate to punch them. He HATES their inability to telegraph how they’re feeling more clearly, because she hates not being able to read people. Their emotional constipation means it’s harder for him to get a read on how best to placate or flatter them in any given situation. His frustration about this coupled with Satellite’s extreme hostility at the drop of a hat makes it so Crescent loathes interaction with them.

Crescent outwardly gets along very well with Solari, as they can very very easily figure out the best course of action to take in any given interaction they share. He still doesn’t enjoy her company that much though, as her tendency to “jokingly” insult her pisses her off, especially paired with what Crescent perceives as extreme arrogance when Solari tries to act intimidating and tough to him. Crescent is probably the most physically fit of all of the Archivists (magically it is much harder to decipher who’s on top) and is insulted that the least physically capable of all of them (excluding the actual child) even entertains the idea that she could fight him, especially with her misplaced confidence in these moments that Crescent perceives to be them believing they could even win. At every opportunity that has presented itself Crescent fights her and takes them down VERY quickly, which makes Solari even more passive aggressive and angry at him.

Crescent adored Cosmos. Always enjoying playing with them, telling him stories about the Collections she’s gone on recently, teaching him new magic tricks. Crescent liked that they were easy to read and easy to lead, easily redirecting their energy at tasks and “games” that could easily preoccupy them until they got tired enough to sleep. Still, he believed it was a great idea to send them to the Titan Planet to see how he would do on his first excursion as an Actual Collector, even after the Titans proved to be able to harm Cosmos they weighed the benefits against the risks of leaving them there. Benefits being that he could function as a good distraction while she whipped up a quick plan to wipe the Titans out, risks being the Titans catching on and harming Cosmos or doing so accidentally. Crescent concluded the Titans were far too nice to harm them, and believed himself to be clever enough to quickly mount up an attack on the Titans that would wipe them out before they’d even be able to register what happened.

Satellite:

Satellite loved Nebula more than anyone, even their own twin (but don’t tell Solari that). The feeling of betrayal and abandonment they felt when it was revealed that xey had broken laws which resulted in xeir imprisonment destroyed everything that they knew in their mind.

Satellite is afraid of Penumbra, which used to not be the case, at least, not to the same extent. Satellite never really got along with any of their siblings except Solari on a consistent basis but Penumbra’s idea to make them the Cartographer at first felt fine, even Satellite didn’t fully understand what would set them off and enjoyed the time alone and moments of peace they got exploring space and searching out new places to Collect from. Eventually they realized that they actually hated being alone, they didn’t like how easily Penumbra sent them to do probably the most isolating task any of them could do to maintain their Archive. This strained their relationship quite a bit, but seeing how easily Penumbra was able to cast aside Cosmos after he was sealed in the mirror shook something in them. They thought Penumbra loved Cosmos more than any of the other siblings, a leftover piece of jealousy at him receiving so much attention after Nebula was taken away, but they couldn’t comprehend Penumbra actually even DISLIKING them in any capacity so it simply meant that to Penumbra All of the other Archivists were disposable if she came up with a good enough reason to abandon them.

Satellite is also afraid of Crescent but for reasons that are the same and completely different. The same because Crescent didn’t even argue with Penumbra’s plan to leave the disk on the Titan Planet, and in fact came up with the idea to leave behind folklore and stories about how “The Collector” was so powerful to entice people to want to find him and release him. Different because while Satellite was more apathetic to mortals, the lessons Nebula told them about how mortal life is sacred and should be protected (which is only slightly different from what they were “meant” to be told about how mortal life is sacred and must be protected by collecting unless they resist in which case they should be taken by force and their home and any stragglers left to die as they destroyed their planet) resulted in Satellite being deeply disturbed by Crescent’s total glee upon orchestrating mortals to fight the Titans on his behalf, easily ignoring how many of the Titan Trappers she had trained were killed in the battles against the full grown titans. Wearing the skulls of the babies and children, and encouraging the Trappers and other Archivists to do the same. Satellite knows how good she is at reading people, they aren’t stupid, they see how when Crescent is around fights are resolved easily, how the mortal Trappers were so easily swayed by her words and loyally fought in battle for him to the very last breath. Satellite isn’t as good at reading people but they sense their emotional non-transparency frustrates him which Satellite is just fine with, to a small extent because it can be used to protect them from her but also they worry about it making Crescent angry enough to do something about it one of these days.

Solari is Satellite’s only friend. They confide in her frequently about what they are feeling, and spend much of their time when not exploring space hanging out with them in the Archives while she sorts, categorizes, and organizes things. Solari is almost never on the receiving end of one of their meltdowns, especially since she was the one to be there for them the most after Nebula was gone. They still do get into fights, they are siblings of course, but they are not even remotely on the same level as one of them fighting with Penumbra or Crescent. Satellite has shared their worries about Crescent and Penumbra so easily discarding Cosmos, and how they worry how easily they would get rid of them or her. Solari understands them and they agree quite frequently on things, though their jobs typically keep them far apart.

Satellite did like Cosmos. They have extreme difficulty expressing how they feel and clearly communicating their needs in social situations which very often resulted in Cosmos, being a child and thus even more oblivious to social etiquette than Solari with none of the lifelong bonding Satellite has with her to guide Cosmos through their interactions, getting on their nerves severely. It was about a 50/50 chance for Satellite to be in a relatively good mood to speak with Cosmos, enjoying them chatting about assorted things, especially when they got to lie and teach them the wrong things about space or magic which resulted in Penumbra giving them the stink eye when Cosmos finally got around to asking her about whether black holes get sick and throw up when too much stuff goes in them at once. Satellite did not like yelling at any of their siblings but they also don’t know how else to act when overwhelmed because it’s not like any of them have had the same issues as them. Now that Cosmos is gone, Satellite is very upset at how they treated him. Satellite feels like they should have realized that they were distant and cold, and Solari was distant and cold, and Penumbra was detached, and Crescent was nearly always busy, and they wonder if he felt the way they do, about being so very alone with almost no one to talk to about how they really feel.

Solari:

Solari loved Nebula quite a bit, though they could tell Satellite was always more excited to spend time with xem than her, but they didn’t let that get her down. Seeing their parent taken from them, and how badly it hurt Satellite made them resent Nebula after the fact.

Solari hates Penumbra. Mainly because she was smart enough to, just like Crescent, realize that if she relinquished some control over Cosmos when they were a baby to Crescent, she would have been more present for Satellite, like they desperately needed her to be. As they got older her resentment manifested in cold hostility for all the members of the family that they felt were failing her twin. Penumbra isolates them, Crescent is annoyed he can’t just puppet them to do what she wants, and Cosmos got all the attention. Penumbra’s obvious disdain for Solari just fuels her own disdain for her right back. They frequently get into fights. Solari was HORRIFIED by Penumbra’s suggestion that they leave the Collector’s mirror disk, all that remained of him, on the Titan Planet because what amounted to the corpse (though not dead) of their sibling could be used as a signal to them for when the final titan frees them or is killed so they can finish the job they started and finally destroy the planet.

Solari despises Crescent. The way he is able to so easily turn events in her favor when there is a disagreement, the fact that he is given so much freedom from Penumbra compared to herself or Satellite, the way that Crescent avoids Satellite simply because she does not care to be genuine in conversations with them. Not to mention when instead of arguing that since they had Titan’s blood and the disk, they should release Cosmos immediately, he agreed to Penumbra’s plan and contributed. It deeply disgusted Solari, especially since her and Satellite agreed that Crescent and Cosmos were closer with each other than any of the rest of them were with either. She loves to get under his skin by challenging her authority, even though she knows they will always lose in a hand-to-hand fight, she does it anyway because they can tell it makes him angry to see her self-assured superiority challenged.

Satellite is the only person Solari is really close with, both of them speaking to each other about their concerns regarding their older siblings when they have the chance to. Solari knows Satellite the best out of any of their siblings, which is why her sarcasm and teasing is always intentional and never mean spirited with them. Solari was the one to comfort Satellite the most about Nebula, which shocked and upset her, because they could not understand why neither of the older siblings could tell or seemed to care about how much they were hurting. Together they realized they had been terrible to Cosmos through no fault of his own and they both deeply regret how they treated them. They’ve spoken before about a complete pipe dream they’ve had, where if Cosmos is ever able to return to them, they’d all run away together to keep their older siblings from continuing to use and neglect him.

Solari has a lot of regrets about Cosmos. She wishes she could have realized that they never did anything wrong, or hurt them (Solari and Satellite) intentionally. They know now that he deserved much better than what he got, this regret typically manifests in her being even more upset at Penumbra and Crescent, how DARE they care more about practicality and their “carefully laid plans” and stupid PROTOCOL than their own brother. Whenever she thinks about her, and Satellite’s own treatment of them, she becomes repulsed with herself. She tries to avoid thinking about it, because it only comes up in her mind when she’s alone sorting the Archives and cataloging new entries, a task they do so effortlessly that the guilt and “what ifs” end up consuming her until she realizes she’s stopped her work entirely and is standing entirely too still with her non-existent stomach turning and her eyes burning, but never fully crying.

The Collector/Cosmos:

Cosmos doesn’t know how to feel about Nebula. On one hand, xey never would have been taken from him and his siblings if xey had simply done what xey were supposed to do, but on the other hand, now that Cosmos is separated from their own siblings, and the culture of other Collectors, he wonders if Nebula would have been proud of them for disagreeing with what he was raised to believe, and managing to escape from the grip it had on them. They’ve heard stories from their older siblings. Penumbra’s stories about xem were typically meant to impress upon him some lesson or to pass on a story that was originally told to Penumbra, as part of the lessons she would teach him, though she avoided speaking about xem in any other context. Crescent’s stories would usually come back to how what xey did was wrong, and how xey put xeir morality above what was actually legal and accepted practice. Satellite loved speaking about Nebula, it was one of the seemingly only guaranteed ways to cheer them up, unless the story was specifically the day xey were arrested, that one was a guaranteed way to make them more upset than anything else he could think of. Solari’s stories were tinged with bitter resentment, though she had good stories about xeir kindness, they would always finish their story with “but xey still choose to break the law and abandon us”. It was all giving mixed messages.

Cosmos had thought that Penumbra was one of their nicest siblings. He loved spending time with her, he enjoyed their lessons, he tried to ignore the slithering feeling of pain he got in his chest whenever he could tell she was annoyed with them. Every time she tiredly redirected them to play with Satellite, Solari, or Crescent when he was there, he pushed down the feeling of agonizing pain in his stomach. He knew Penumbra still loved them, she still was so happy to play with him when she wasn’t busy, to teach him lessons, or read important books to them. That’s what he thought at least. Since they’ve been freed from their prison, he’s had time to reflect on what happened. Even though Satellite was the one that told them about how he was allowed to go play with the Titans, Cosmos knew it was Penumbra who came up with the plan, it was literally her job to direct the rest of them and their missions. She was either the one that came up with the plan to kill all the Titans or at the very least approved of the plan that was otherwise definitely Crescent’s idea. She didn’t bother taking him off the planet after they started. She left them there.

Cosmos loved Crescent very much, the only sibling that never gave them a disappointed look, that never dismissed him, that enjoyed playing games with him, and never yelled at or scared them. Which makes them even more devastated, knowing that she was the one that had all their friends killed. Every baby Titan he befriended died, very likely because of Crescent, either indirectly by the Titan Trappers, or directly by her own hands. It’s very hard for them to hate anyone, but they’ve decided they should hate him. For being so nice, and so kind, only to hurt them in such a hideous way, he knows she, Penumbra, and the twins all were definitely watching him on the planet. They absolutely knew that Papa Titan blamed Cosmos for the missing and dead Titans. They still did nothing to stop him. Eventually he figures out that they all had to have found his disk, and had access to Titan’s blood, and chose not to free him on purpose. The more Cosmos thinks about him, the more upset they get.

Cosmos never had a very good relationship with Satellite. It was confusing, how they seemed to be fine one moment and angry at them the next. It made them feel cautious when Penumbra sent him to play with them, but they were always happy when Satellite was in a good mood to play or talk. They could never tell when they were lying to him about things, but it was always funny when they did because it was never mean or about important things. Cosmos knew Satellite (and Solari) did not get along with Penumbra or Crescent as much as they did, so it makes them wonder if Satellite argued against leaving them on the Titan Planet when they came up with the plan to kill all the Titans, if for no other reason than to just be contrarian to the elder siblings. Cosmos knows that no matter which of their siblings suggested they leave him behind in his disk, it would have to have been approved by the elder two, so ultimately they do not blame the twins for leaving them behind, at least not nearly as much as he blames the others.

Cosmos was even more cautious about Solari than Satellite, being the scariest of their siblings. She could be so mean and they didn’t understand why. When they seemed to be in a good mood she would have him do little tasks for her, going into the Archives to retrieve things for them, which, in hindsight, they now realize she likely could have just magically summoned. But it kept him occupied and taught him about how the Archives were cataloged. She would teach them about each of the creatures and objects that he collected for them. When she was in a bad mood and felt like scaring him was the worst. Sometimes she got so angry that she destroyed things, nothing from the Archive of course, Penumbra would be furious if they did that. But she would smash walls and floors and doors. Sometimes when she broke things, the exploding pieces would hit him. It never really hurt, but she would always immediately apologize and heal them, even if there was never really any damage. Sometimes she would play games with him, her most favorite being the one where they would pick him up with magic and throw them as far into open space as she could, which was mostly fun, though sometimes scary when he was thrown way too far or hit something. It didn’t happen often and he figured a way around both of these issues by counting in their head to a preset number where he would magically stop their flight if he was still going when they reached the number, and they would also use their flight to alter their path to avoid objects. Now that they’re away they wonder if any of their siblings actually loved him.

[saradrewitt]

SARAH JACKALOPE I DESPERATELY NEED YOUR HELP WITH LEARNING HOW TO DRAW A TERZO EMERITUS PLEASE GET BACK TO ME

Hi! I’m so sorry this took a bit to answer!

FULL DISCLOSURE I am literally the worst person to ask because the way I do it always changes but I appreciate your trust in my inconstancy! I also have a hard time drawing him or the other papas for that matter without a reference. I can try to help the best way I can. here we go, I really hope this helps!

So the number don represent the order but just what I'll explain. First always consider the shape of the face I know this is just the sketch but we always start somewhere. 

(1) Take a look at the basic jaw structure my style always make it longer than it should be but in this case I'm taking in the fact that while I made this tutorial I was looking at a photo reference. (2) Then the ears. (3) The basic middle line mark. (4) Two lines are of course for the eyes and you must realize that our eye level matches the tip of the ears show in the picture for remember that. (5) What I personally do when I draw noses it just help with a realistic measurement of the brows and the nose size. if we’re looking at this through a stylized realism way, remember that the distance between the eyes is matched by the size of the nose. this is not the case for some people but look at refs of people’s noses and see that the size of the eyes is the same size of the nose.(6) The first initial circle is the base, but remember that that won’t be the size of a head. so expand it a little bit so there is extra room to get that hairline and detail when we get to that part (I ended up not paying attention and ngl Terzo ended up with a big ass head but shhhhh I warned you)....

I went ahead and did some detail work but this is what we’ll be seeing when I draw them. from pictures you can see the age lines and it’s really just a matter if you want the detail or not, done people can do that with little detail and make it look good but my style is in constant crises all the time so this is how I do it. you can also why I have the base sketch on top of my “lineart”.

So Terzo’s hair specifically is weird in my opinion. I normally have a part I go off from when I draw hair but his just has to be weird. Either way, when I draw his I go down from the middle and just make it both have that volume and fluff he normally has. (Agin in the end result I polished it up so his part is that square like formation seen in pictures).

Okay now the fun part, the papal makeup! The deep pink lines are the base sketch I usually draw up so when I color and shade it can be adjusted if needed. It also helps me know that proportions are somewhat realistic but with a small hint of my style as well. Idk I'm still in a style crisis as we speak and it’s gotten a lot worse since I've joined this fandom. 

When I think everything looks good I work with the black and color it. I normally like using our black when I work with lineart to give it that ink look. I called this blunt lineart (and shading cuz like I said my style is very inconsistent). Now if you’re working digitally I do this type of coloring on a layer on top of this sketch so when I low the opacity I can see if my placement is correct (again just of needed). if I think I got most of it correct that’s where I go I with my next step. 

Wow, it’s looking like Terzo now, look at our sweet boy with the rbf, Blessimo!

So in these next few steps I just add the white and added purple wrinkle likes that were cover by the blunt lineart. You can make those line grey or white depending on your style but I like adding his colors when I draw him digitally so that’s an option. Once I have everything done I just against as needed then move on.  

Lastly I finish up the lineart, work on some shadow work and add color, for sketched I don’t really do that but in this case I placed a color pallet I usually work with (it’s still gonna be inconsistent as I go) but this is usually what I do when I draw him. honestly to god my methods and process changes but I at least hope this was a helpful guide.

[sibyl-of-space]

what inspired the character designs in amadeus?

What a fun question! With the caveat that specific things can't be discussed without spoilers (and therefore won't be discussed), I'll try to talk about them to the best of my ability.

Amadeus:

I made the first sketches of his design so long ago I barely remember what the initial vibes were. I do remember that his long straight hair and rich boy vibes were kind of meant to be Lucius Malfoy-ish (Prisoner of Azkaban was a huge reason I initially became obsessed with werewolves, so that's where this inspiration came from. I don't want Amadeus to have anything to do with HP beyond this, for obvious reasons; but I should admit this influence).

As far as his actual clothing, Amadeus's weird shirt-coat thing is actually largely drawn from the cape I made for a DGS Sherlock Holmes cosplay. Hound of the Baskervilles is another huge inspiration for the game, and I find it way easier to draw clothes that I have made or worked with in some way, so I drew from that.

(this is the only photo I have easily on hand, lmao)

The pants for his full design are based off of pants I made for a Lloyd Irving cosplay, and the boots kind of are as well. So well, pretty much, cosplay gave me a ton of experience interpreting weird clothes into IRL fashion and making them, so now I get to do the opposite thing where I have a ton of weird clothes I've made that I can pull from when thinking about what characters might wear.

The most iconic part of his design, the arms, well... to put this in vague terms because of spoiler reasons: that was an example of the design actually being revised to fit plot details. It has resulted in a way cooler and more interesting design, but it wasn't originally there. I had to realize some plot things before I could reflect them in the design, and now the design would be unrecognizable without it.

Solea:

Solea went under drastic revision since my first version of her, because her character also underwent drastic revision and the OG design no longer felt like her. I wrote about this a little bit in a devlog, but in order to draw a hairstyle for her that I liked, I spent about 3 hours watching Black haircare videos on YouTube to get a feel for different typical styles for her hair texture and variations on those styles, and bookmarking the ones that felt like they had the right vibes. After that, I drew a mockup and sent it to a friend who has similar hair texture to Solea, and asked "does this hairstyle make sense?" and she said "yep!" so it was a go.

In terms of the rest of her design: I'm being intentionally vague here, but there are reasons she looks the way she does, and it took a lot of tweaking to get it to feel right. My favorite part is the ugly ass gardening gloves she's got on. Without those it still felt too Disney's Hercules-esque (especially the top half - her bottom half design fixes this somewhat, but you can't see it in the talksprite). But the big ugly functional gardening glove contrasting with her pretty flowing fabrics I think results in the right aesthetic for her.

The Witch:

It came to me in a dream.

OK, not really, what actually happened was I was thinking about Amadeus while lying in bed about to go to sleep, and for some reason imagined the witch who lives in his home now descending from the second floor banister looking like some abstract weird ass orange-red creature. It was one of those things where I was just like "that's weird as fuck. Kind of creepy. ...Let's do it." I remembered the head was circular with square "petals" protruding, and the bottom was kind of triangular, but since it was all made up in my head it wasn't that concrete. So when it came time to actually draw her, I drew from the stylized and very Shaped designs in Super Paper Mario, and tried to get it to feel close to the image in my head.

...It was only after coloring it that I realized it looks very, very Homestuck. This was probably a huge subconscious influence, but not for a second did I consciously consider it. If anything I think my initial daydream was inspired by an enemy from Final Fantasy VIII.

Anyway, hope this was somewhat interesting! Thanks for the ask!

[victorian-pirate]

VINCEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, LAST SENTENCE!!! Share the last sentence you wrote, I know your Google Docs is open, share it!!!

Hi Luci. Nice to see you here so... enthusiastic.

You know what we're working on, I'm playing Shen Wei for "Seawater is tears shed in the shores" in his solo/introspective scenes and adding details to his parts in the scenes Hyde wrote alone. Today I got to work in a shared character (both me and Hyde are writing him now), Xiao Hua. So, my last sentence, it's from him, to Wu Xie:

“That's why we don't treat love like business - as long as someone still knows what love is worth, that someone has not yet lost their soul.”

Since this fic started as a short-story with 3 main characters and a simpler Angst Plot, it's a surprise the proportions it took in less than a week and how Xiao Hua is getting the spotlight there too, yet the conflict is not about him, I'd say he's a late main character.

Facts that may be interesting for you: -After I read the first scenes of this fic, I jumped into writing Shen Wei's pov without permission and added in between lines some headcanons I have as analyst. Hyde liked it and now I'm a co-author by accident, but this made my days off so much better -Xiao Hua's pov changed the whole pace of this work, so you will know that once he's in scene, things won't go as you could be expecting in the first parts of the fic -Arjun's portrayal of Lin Jing is flawless, he begins as the more in-canon character, even the narration he and Hyde made for the LJ & ZYL scene looks like you were reading a scene in Guardian Novel. Needless to say I laughed, despite all the previous and later Angst. The scene develops for a more real-monk thing, as we enjoy. We had no plans to bring Lin Jing to this story, but here he is and he also changed the pace. -This work was created because of your request for the Frailties and Nuances series, in the song Run, by Rhodes, that I posted here a while ago. The most prominent setting in this work is a similar place to the one in the music video. That said: this fic has full soundtrack (thanks to your help) and the playlist will be linked, and this fic has art; I don't know how many, Hyde sketched a few, finished a painting, and by the time we get the writing done, I don't know how many more artworks we'll have, but there's potential for an illustrated fic. -Tazzy is working as the photographer, choosing scenes and locations to inspire the sets and art. Two of the photos totally captured me and because of that, Shen Wei, who didn't have any scenes in that setting, now does. (Thank you @tazzy-ace ) -None of us know the end of the story, although it seems predictable for being part of that specific series. -For Humor or Angst, Da Qing raised ZYL nonetheless

[untitled-smp]

Meet the Players! [Untitled SMP]

Cass - theecryptiid - (she/they/he)  - @theecryptiid

Joined: Season 2

Faction: Corroded

Socials:

Tumblr: theecryptiid

Youtube: CasstheCryptid

Twitch: theecryptiid

- / - / -

Hiya! I'm Cass, I enjoyed big builds, complicated color palettes, and longs elytra flights on the beach. I joined Untitled just over a year ago, though I had wanted to be a part of an SMP for a long time before that. My main goal was to broaden my building abilities and master the game better than I had previously, and I honestly think I've made strides in both places!

- / - / -

What underrated aspect of Minecraft is your favorite?

If flying was an underrated aspect of Minecraft, it would be that, I love elytras, but I'm gonna have to go with adventuring! There's just something about traveling far away from home and then venturing back with your spoils and seeing the warm light of your house in the distance.

What style of building do you most enjoy working in?

I can't say there's one specifically, in my opinion it's important to work in a variety of styles in order to keep yourself from repeated one specific style over and over again. However, that being said, cozy interiors. I LOVE a cozy functional interior.

Where do you get most of your inspiration from?

I have to say that BdoubleO100 is a huge inspiration for me, and why I started trying to get good at building in the first place. The way he pioneers new building techniques and uses things people don't even think of has always impressed me so much. I also use real life reference images, or photos of places I've visited in real life! The S3 Nether Hub is actually based on the Antwerp Cathedral Station, and my early sketches of it were heavily based on that.

What builds are you the most proud of and why?

The S3 Nether Hub! That bad boy took me almost 25 hours to design, and then over 60 hours to build. Though it does have flaws that I would fix now, the fact that I finished it, and it's a functional piece of this season is the most important thing to me.

What's a weird fact people might not know about you?

I'm actually the person that made the famous "Disc War" graphic used in the Dream SMP final disc confrontation. It was originally the graphic I designed to be used for the Disc War wiki article on the DSMP wiki page, so I absolutely never expected to see it on the actual server. The scream of surprise and bewilderment that came out of my mouth when they descended and it appeared was ungodly!

What do you enjoy outside of Untitled and Minecraft?

I enjoy writing, ceramics, and playing a LOT of open-world video games in my free time. I've also got a soft spot for detective and procedural shows about weird little guys (House MD, Psych, the Mentalist, Elementary)

[sanddusted-wisteria]

1000 Things to Do with Sulfuric Acid [Oneshot]

GN!builder/Qi; crack

Warnings: None

Also on AO3

Summary: #512: A gift for a special someone~

Qi frowned at the page. What strange advice. A hazardous chemical was generally not considered to be a socially acceptable gift, much less a gift with romantic connotations.

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

#512: A gift for a special someone~

Got a special someone in your life? Or maybe you’ve got your eye on someone special…? Whether it’s a spouse, a partner, or a crush, a beaker’s worth of sulfuric acid is sure to capture their heart. A gift that shows how much you care and how deep your trust runs.

CAUTION: Make sure to create a solution with a concentration that you can safely trust them with, and give it in a safe, sealed, and labeled container!!

Qi frowned at the page. What strange advice. A hazardous chemical was generally not considered to be a socially acceptable gift, much less a gift with romantic connotations.

He sighed and shut the book, not even bothering to bookmark it. He’d bought the book because the title intrigued him: 1000 Things to Do with Sulfuric Acid. He thought it would be a thousand experiment ideas or uses in machinery, which, to be fair, the first hundred or so were. But beyond that, the ideas started getting increasingly bizarre. It seemed the only thing this book was good for was amusement.

For whatever reason, instead of picking up another book, Qi felt compelled to stare at the cover for a little longer, with its bold title font and bright color scheme. A familiar sensation slowly crawled its way through his mind. If Qi had to give it a physical analog, he’d describe it as…an itch. An itch, an urge, to experiment, to inquire, to make something.

A hypothesis, a blueprint, a sketch, a problem…

…An idea.

An idea between this book, and…

His eyes trailed up to the wall his desk was against, specifically to its latest addition, a framed photo of him and…

…the builder.

It was their idea to take the photo on a date one time, as the two of them walked hand in hand by the oasis, watching the sun set. They were pressed close together, arms over each other’s shoulders. A bright smile was on the builder’s face, while a much more mild one was on Qi’s.

His mind drifted to their near-endless generosity towards him, even when they first met. They almost always had something for him. A power stone, a data disk, a relic, tea, coffee, a hot plate of food… He hardly gifted them anything in return, though they never seemed to mind. He wanted to reciprocate their generosity somehow, to show that he truly appreciated it. Like the book said, he wanted to show that he cares. Even though his intuition was telling him that sulfuric acid made a terrible gift, he couldn’t help but wonder if the book’s advice had some kind of merit. If they enjoyed it, wonderful! If not, then at least he would have satiated his curiosity and confirmed that this book is, in fact, total nonsense. No harm done. Unless the builder gets harmed from the acid, which would…not be ideal. He would have to ensure that wouldn’t happen, as to maximize the positive effects of this gift.

He got out of his chair and walked over to the fume hood, putting on his protective gear before opening the chemical cabinet. He could make this work.

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

The builder opened the door to the research center right as Qi looked over from his shelves.

“How far off am I?” they said with a smile.

“About 2 minutes. Usually you come in around 8:33.”

“That’s still within 1%, I guess. I’ll shoot for 8:33 on the dot next time.”

“Well don’t do that, you’ll pollute the data. All of my predictions are based on your natural behavior. Trying to skew the data in any direction is bad science.”

“Hm. Wouldn’t want that, would we?” They pecked his cheek as he pulled them into a side-hug. They reached into their bag and pulled out a condensed power stone. “Need one of these?”

Qi’s eyes widened. “I do, as a matter of fact. Thank you.” He graciously took it and put it in his dwindling supply bin. “How do you know precisely when I need more?”

The builder grinned. “Hey, you keep track of my habits, I keep track of yours. Your bin over there always looks kinda empty by the 15th every month. More or less.”

“Quite accurate. I receive a regular shipment of power stones on the 17th of every month. I try to space out my usage of them, but sometimes I really need a few extra towards the middle of the month. So, I do appreciate it.”

The builder pumped their fist. Nailed it. “I’ll keep bringing you more, then. Hell, I’ll give you a whole box full of them. I barely use them with how many dregs I can sweep up.”

Qi waved a hand. “No need. My energy supply is subsidized by the Alliance. Just a few when I really need them is more than enough.”

“Well, if you need any, just ask. I’ve got plenty to go ‘round.”

A tiny smile tugged at Qi’s lips. “I’ll keep that in mind.” His brow raised suddenly. “Oh! That reminds me. I have something for you.” He made his way over another small, locked cabinet.

“What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing in particular. I just…figured I should give you something besides a diagram and tea every once in a while. You’re always giving me things and I hardly ever return the favor.”

The builder flushed. “Aw, you didn’t have to…”

“I insist,” Qi said gently. “I don’t want your goodwill to be met with relative indifference.”

From the cabinet, he produced a simple glass vial with a screw-on lid. Some kind of clear liquid was inside. A label ran across the vial’s middle: “H2SO4”.

“Here you are. I, um…hope it is acceptable.”

The builder gingerly took it and turned it over. “Uh, thanks…! What…what is it?”

Qi raised an eyebrow. “Huh? It’s labeled, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but…what does it mean? Some kind of chemical?”

“Of course. That’s the chemical formula for sulfuric acid. Because the contents are sulfuric acid.”

The builder was suddenly very aware of the sweat and oil on their hands. “Huh–uh…whaa?”

“I struggled a bit with what concentration I should’ve created,” Qi said with a hand on his chin. “99% is the most commonly sold, but it seemed a bit excessive and dangerous to hand out without much thought. Plus, it’s rather expensive. I would have to order some more if I gave you some, and I’m already close to running my budget over this month.”

The builder gripped the vial tighter. Or wait—it was glass. Maybe they shouldn’t be holding it so tight.

“But on the other hand, something between 0-30% seemed, er, for the lack of a better term…lame. You are not a child. You can be trusted to handle hazardous substances to some extent. At least, I do. And as a well-trained lab technician, my judgment overrules any potential nay-sayers to your competence. I cannot say the same for many of my former assistants.”

The builder glanced around nervously. Was there anywhere to set this down? Qi’s shelves were landslide hazards, so not there…

“I remembered to rule out 50% as well. And any other basic, well-known ratio or number.  Something like that would seem so thoughtless. Anyone could think up those numbers. And anyone can mix a 50% solution! So no 5s or 10s, no squares or cubes, no thirds, no quarters,  no…immaturity…”

The floor was definitely out of the question. They’d 100% kick it over at some point. Ugh, all this talk of percents…

“But after about an hour just staring at my glassware, I had an epiphany. Primes! Fascinating numbers, those. I’m sure you appreciate their beauty as well. A perfect fit for a gift to you.”

Holding the vial out a good bit in front of them, they tiptoed around Qi to gently put it down on a corner of his workbench. Then they pushed it in a little more. And then a little more.

“So I settled on precisely 43%. No more, no less. I hope that concentration’s alright. If you’d like a different one, I would be more than happy to mix another solution for you.”

The builder’s mouth opened and closed uselessly, trying to put out words while their mind still couldn’t conjure a coherent thought.

Qi frowned. “Are you alright? You seem…ill all of a sudden.”

The builder could only let out a shaky laugh. They took a deep breath, trying to find the best way to say it. “Qi…sweetheart… I can tell you put a lot of thought into this, and it’s super sweet of you…but…”

Qi’s shoulders sagged. “Ah. I was afraid of this.”

The builder quickly shook their head. “I-it’s not like I don’t appreciate it! It’s just…um…I don’t know what I’d do with sulfuric acid…”

“I…have a book that could give you some ideas…”

They raised an eyebrow. “A book?”

“Yes, it’s a book about potential uses for sulfuric acid. Emphasis on potential.”

“…Is that where you got the idea to give some to me?”

Qi was looking anywhere but the builder. The floor, the generator, the shelves, the trash can…

“Qi?”

“…Yes.”

“…Can I see it?”

Qi nodded and pulled it from the back corner of his workbench, hesitating before handing it over to them.

The builder frowned as they skimmed through it, looking at all the weird things the authors apparently thought you could do with a liquid corrosion hazard. When they got to the last several pages, they snorted.

“Qi, the 1000th idea they have is to pour acid all over this book. I don’t think it was meant to be taken too seriously.”

“Oh,” Qi said with a blank stare. “So the authors wrote this book to…lie?”

“I think it’s meant to be humor writing, darling.”

“Well I don’t think it’s funny.”

The builder rolled their eyes with a light smile. “Wonder if anyone does.”

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

The next day, another book found its way to Qi’s special bin. A very special bin for very special books, tucked under his bed. Not too many titles found their way there, but now the scant few volumes were joined by a new addition: 1000 Things to Do with Sulfuric Acid. It was sporting a new addition to its cover to match its new neighbors: a stripe of duct tape all around the center, to prevent it from ever being opened again.

And on it, scrawled in bold black marker, a single word: “RUBBISH.”