#the only time i've spent more time on an artwork was when i did that dracula's daughter screenshot redraw in acrylic paint

[gouinisme]

my girl!!

+ different lighting options

[meowyn]

This method acting might pay our bills

1.7k words, enver gortash x the dark urge.

no smut! lots of kisses, fluffy kinda idk, durge constantly having inner monologues lol, heavily implied first kiss for durge.

It was often difficult for you to forget who you were, what you were. A wretched blade, stained with the blood of countless men, the strength of your faith so mighty that you could never be dulled no matter how many you slayed in the name of your God.

Only tonight, you were forgetting. Tonight, thoughts plagued your mind like flies around a rotting corpse. Thoughts of whom, you could never admit out loud.

Enver Gortash; the bane of your existence.

The Chosen of Bane being the source of your recent troubles was something you would have never predicted, the absurdity of the situation you now found yourself in was enough to make you want to claw out your eyes. Your hands twitched eargerly at the thought.

You found it hard to pinpoint exactly when this had started, perhaps when you met? Long nights spent creating ploys, yearning, drinking, and coming to understand one another better than anyone else blurred the lines. Before you knew it, you wanted less and less to see what grand artwork he would become in the name Bhaal and moreso the kind of faces he'd make fast asleep and safe in slumber. It didn't help that you found him sickeningly attractive.

Denying your affection for the man proved tedious. You had never bothered to learn how to act, let alone deny yourself of anything you wanted for this long, now painfully aware that you aren't even remotely talented at it. It was about time that you admitted to yourself that you felt more for him than petty admiration. However, to do so, you'd be committing your first sin against Father. Unbeknownst to you, the first sin of many. There would be no coming back after that.

"There you are, I've been looking for you." Spoke the devil himself, interrupting your train of thought as he sat down next to you.

You didn't bother answering him, choosing to continue staring out at the sea, which seemed to be further away now compared to when you were lost in your mind.

"What are you doing? I didn't have you pegged as the brooding type." Upon realizing you were in a fairly calm mood, he sat a little closer to you. If he noticed the way you tensed, he didn't comment on it.

"I'm not.." The words died in your throat, making you frown. When you spoke again, you found your tone had adopted a softness wholly foreign to you, "I'm people watching, as they call it."

He studied your face for a moment, before following your gaze down to the shoreline. He hummed in amusement when he saw what you were looking at, civilians of all kinds simply going about their daily lives. For a moment, he wondered wether you envied them, then remembered who you were. You noticed this seemed to surprise him with the way he looked back at you, the slight upturn of his lips indicated that he was considering teasing you about it, but he never did. It both pleased and frustrated you immensely, knowing how he'd take your feelings into consideration before he acted, despite never thinking you had any yourself. You silently hoped this was some scheme of his, that he was manipulating you like he had so many others, so that you could have a reason to want to kill him.

"..Why?" Your hopes were quickly snuffed out at his curiosity and the gentleness of which he spoke, making your chest tighten.

"All of them are so small, so insignificant, and yet.." You don't continue that thought, your tone betraying your melancholy, "They look happy enough, don't they?"

Your anemoia didn't go unnoticed by him, but the sense of finality to your last sentence indicated you didn't want to talk about it further, so he left it alone. Gods forbid he invoke your wrath here, where he had finally got you all to himself to talk to you as he wished.

You watch out the corner of your eye as he unwraps a small package he had taken from his pocket, revealing an assortment of sliced fruits. When he notices your gaze, he offers you some. Then he chuckles when your nose wrinkles and you shake your head.

"You don't like them? I thought you did, you ate all the fruit at the table during our last meeting."

"They're sour, I don't like those ones."

"Ah." He nods quietly, wrapping them back up and putting them in his pocket, "Apologies, I'll keep that in mind."

If you looked, which you do, you'd notice how his hair looked a little messier than usual and that he appeared to have just come from the baths based on the slight flush of colour on his cheeks. From here, you could feel how warm he was and the subtle scent of soap invaded your senses. You figured it couldn't hurt, so you moved closer so that your shoulders brushed together, all while staring back out to the sea intently.

"Why were you looking for me?" You ask after a short while.

"I wanted to see you." He says, as though it was obvious. Open with his affection while simultaneously keeping his cards close to his chest, which was so typical of him.

"What for? A cuddle?" You respond with sarcasm, grinning at him as though the idea was foolish. A warning, really. You could slit his throat right here and he wouldn't be able to do much about it. You then frowned, closing your eyes temporarily as the urge took delight in that thought.

"Tempting.." He mutters, taking your hand slowly. You take a measured breath and when you open your eyes again, he's smiling at you fondly.

You hum quietly in agreement, curling in on yourself in shame. You'd apologize to Father properly later, but right now you needed to let him know how you felt, even through an action so small. The guilt would surely eat you alive, it was already starting to, settling uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach whilst a repulsive warmth crept up your spine, seeping into the cracks of your blackened heart with unadulterated vengeance. The only thing keeping you from baring your teeth, from tearing skin from bone, from giving in to your vicious indulgence as a pathetic attempt to escape the confusing feelings swarming your brain and suffocating you was something as mundane as him squeezing your hand.

How cruel, you thought, to have to live alongside Enver Gortash and not be allowed to love him freely.

All it took was one last look into his eyes, and that delicate thread that held you both in your respective places snapped. With newfound vigor, he surged forward and kissed you, determined and desperate to take from you whatever you'd allow. After half a minute or so, as if remembering himself, he eased back to take in your expression, preparing himself to face your fury and be annihilated.

However, the sight before him now made his knees weak, yet not with fear. You were a beauty. Glossy lips parted as you caught your breath, eyes wide and dazed, and the most charming tinge of pink across your face. So incredibly precious, he couldn't withhold the satisfied chuckle that escaped him.

"What?" You frowned, trying to decipher what was so amusing to him, though that only served to make him laugh more, the sound coming from deep within his chest.

"Oh, my dear assassin.." His laughter died down, but the mirth in his eyes did not, "You will surely be the cause of my ruin."

"Don't be foolish." You hissed, fingers snaking into the hair at his nape and pulling him to you to kiss him once more, this urge more ravenous than the one that calls you to slaughter. All lips and teeth colliding, you greedily grab at his hair and tug, urging him to give you more of whatever this was.

"Easy.." He murmured, nudging your noses together as his arm curled around you and brought you closer to him, "Not so harsh."

You felt his hand cup your jaw, thumb swiping across your cheek, the action calming you as you loosened your grip on him. All you knew was harsh. You were bred to make the world bleed. This was new, this was frightening, a tenderness so unknown to you that it shattered every perception of mortal relationships you had spent your entire life building.

He kissed you once softly, then twice as though he could sense your unease.

"It's alright, you know," He said as his palm smoothed circles into your back, "That you don't know what you're doing."

You opened your mouth immediately to protest, then scowled upon realizing it would be pointless, he was right. Your method acting thus far had been excellent, flawless even, so much so that it was to the point where when it came to anything else, you were at a loss.

"Do you truly believe I'm capable of more?" You ask, your voice a little less than a whisper.

"I do. Do you?"

He replied, without missing a beat.

You didn't know. Being more than an executioner was never something you had thought about. You didn't even think yourself capable of such thoughts until he came along, with all of his wonderful ideas and genius inventions, sparking new inspiration in your mind. Father would not approve. Gortash brought forth temptation, guilt and a new feeling that bubbled away, warm and dizzying in your veins, making it hard to care about anything else.

You didn't wish to think on it anymore, so you shut your eyes and took the liberty of tucking your head under his chin, both of you sitting there in silence for a while longer. For once, your mind was quiet.

"How did you manage to get up here?" Your question almost breaks the peaceful atmosphere, but you continue on, "I hadn't thought you were all that athletic."

"Not to worry, I'll be sure to change your persuasion in time." You could hear the amusement plain in his tone, he was teasing you. As soon as your head snapped toward him, giving him an incredulous look, he could only start laughing.

[stedefxckingbonnet]

Past Lives | Izzy Hands x Reader

Izzy Hands x Gn!Reader

Summary: Quite some time has passed since you joined the crew of The Revenge per being saved, and you've grown particularly close to the one who brought you aboard. One night in particular is breathtaking and you decide you cannot contain your feelings anymore, but you had never learned exactly how to express these sorts of feelings to another person, let alone Izzy Hands. So, you do so in the only way you know how.

Warnings: slight angst/tension, slight avoidant attachment style (w/resolution though), kissing, some strong language

Word count: 2264 (some longer ones coming your way in the near future, though!)

A/N: hi hi lovely people! This is honestly the first x reader I've written since I was probably 14-15, so please bear that in mind! My interpretation of Izzy I feel like, isn't always 100% representative of him in the show itself, but I feel like I tried to capture him at his core while exploring this more sensitive side of him that we are getting in season 2, perhaps more of a what he is on the pathway to being, and therefore already is, if that makes any sense. Just has to be unlocked in levels. Plus, Izzy deserves the world so I just wanted to write something sweet to dip my toe back into this sort of writing. Anyhow, I'd like to get back into the habit of writing these so please, do request! I hope you all enjoy this one, comments are much appreciated xx

The stars illuminated the sky in such a way that it almost looked like a painting—a bit too picturesque, like one of those artworks that only aristocrats could afford to have on the wall of their ornate mansions passed through the centuries, or even built and curated just for them. Nonetheless, it was breathtaking, and the fresh air coursed through your veins and senses so effortlessly and made you feel alive. Nights like these weren't meant to be spent hidden away in your quarters and you knew that. Once you were sure everyone had retired for the night, you quietly crept onto the main deck, ready for your moment of solace that you had been seeking for weeks now.

You approached one of the railings, scanning across the deck still to see if anyone had been lurking nearby. The coast was clear, and finally, you found somewhere to lean on as you stared out into the night sky, the wind blowing through even the hairs on your neck, making them stand. On occasion, you'd be sprayed by the sea but it was the most at peace you had felt in weeks.

"Rough night?" you heard someone quietly call from a short distance away. You almost jumped, but you quickly turned around only to see Izzy Hands. Relief washed over you, as did a nervous feeling that had only begun recently. You inhaled sharply as Izzy waltzed over, thanking the stars for not illuminating this spot too much, therefore being no way he saw you craving that much air in your lungs. He leaned beside you on the railing, awaiting your reply.

"Not at all," you admitted. "Quite the opposite. It's so beautiful out tonight."

Izzy only nodded. He joined you in looking out at the landscape presented before him. In all of his years of sailing, it was all he had ever known--the sky and the sea, yet, he had never thought it to be this ravishing before. He never noticed how lovely it could be. Being here with you, he saw it all in a new light. He discreetly glanced over at you once again. He had noticed the way your lips slightly parted when you saw something you liked, and the way your shoulders lowered when you were relaxed. He noticed that you'd twiddle your thumbs when you were truly happy—in fact, you happened to be doing it right now. Izzy allowed his lips to curl into a smile upon realizing this. Finally, he broke the silence.

"I've never seen anything like this," he admitted, almost out of breath whilst he was still looking over at you. You still hadn't noticed.

"Isn't it...divine?" you chuckled. "Beautiful seems too weak a word."

"I feel the opposite. I don't think I've ever described anything as beautiful before."

"Really? Not once?"

Izzy shook his head. "Saving it for something special, I guess."

Silence filled the space between the two of you once again, but for once in your life, it was a comfortable silence. You looked out at the sea, but this time, you could feel Izzy's eyes on you. You attempted to discreetly glance his way, and you couldn't help but smile when you locked eyes. You looked away as you practically felt your cheeks burning and your stomach turning, and you hoped to the sea gods that you weren't falling ill. But these forlorn feelings felt honestly incredible, for once. A wave of confusion crashed over you, and it was growing more and more difficult to ignore.

"You alright?" Izzy inquired with genuine concern. This entire time, his eyes have not left you.

"What? Me?"

Izzy chuckled. "Who else?"

"Fine. Just fine."

"Just fine?"

"Do you believe in past lives?" you suddenly heard yourself ask, and already you were cursing yourself for it.

"Past lives?" Izzy repeated pensively. You nodded, looking over at him intently. It took him a moment to think of a response, and even still, he seemed unsure. "This sure as hell feels like the first time I'm living. Otherwise I probably wouldn't have made a lot of the decisions and mistakes I've made, I suppose."

You felt your heart sink, and it almost felt like there was no way to retrieve it. "I see. Well, goodnight."

Without letting Izzy have another word, you scurried back to your quarters, tears streaming down your cheeks like waterfalls.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You awoke the next morning with a sharp pain in your chest. You winced as you forced yourself out of bed, though as you dressed, the feeling began to dissipate. You almost teared up again upon reminiscing last night. What were you thinking, asking something like that of Israel Hands? Where did that even come from? Why did his answer hurt so terribly? A million thoughts swarmed around in your head like flies, and there wasn't much you could do to swat them away. You felt like holing yourself up in your room but you knew that with Stede as one of the captains, this wasn't much of an option. After hovering your hand above the doorknob for what seemed like ages, you finally twisted it, revealing yourself to the crew. Already, everyone seemed to be intertwined in their usual antics and fuckeries--it would have been fun and refreshing to see if not for the somber mood you were in. Lucius waved you over, and you seriously thought of walking right past him, but he was your dear friend, like a brother to you and you wouldn't have forgiven yourself if you dismissed him. You trudged over to him, and he immediately recognized your gloom.

"Well good morning, mopey," Lucius teased, nudging you in the shoulder.

"Not today, Luci," you mumbled. "Not today."

Lucius' smile dropped, though he raised a brow. "Talk to me. Who do I need to punch?"

"No one. I'm just having a bad day."

"You are such a bad liar."

"I just don't wanna talk about it," you grumbled. Lucius was at a loss for words, but thankfully you knew just what to say. "The sky was lovely last night. If only you'd been awake to sketch it. You're the only one who would have done it any justice."

"Maybe I'll have another chance tonight," Lucius said hopefully.

"Maybe you will," you breathed out as suddenly, none other than Izzy himself appeared onto the deck. You gulped and turned away from him immediately.

"Whoa, whoa. What's going on with you and Iz—“

"—I don't wanna talk about it," you almost seethed. Before you knew it, a finger tapped your shoulder. You swiveled around, fighting the tears in your eyes.

"Got a minute?"

"Not exactly."

"What better do you have to do?" Izzy demanded. Your jaw dropped, and you were waiting for your thoughts to catch up with your mouth but they never did. "That's what I thought. Come on, Y/N."

"Later, okay? Not right now. Tonight," you promised. "That's my best offer."

"I'll hold you to it."

You immediately realized the mistake you had made, and how difficult and miraculous it would be to get through this entire day before possibly knowing what Izzy wanted from you.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The shadow of the moon was present once again, and for once, you dreaded the wonders of nighttime. It felt perilous and peculiar now, like a friend you didn't quite recognize anymore. But, a promise was a promise, you'd be damned if you broke one, let alone this one. As frustrated and almost devastated as you were, you'd never allow yourself to break a promise to Izzy. You pulled your favorite capelet over your shoulders and started toward the deck to find Izzy already waiting in your usual spot. You hadn't realized it until now, but this really was your and Izzy's spot. It's where you wiped away his tears when he cried in front of you the first time, it's where he sat with you countless times when you couldn't sleep, it's where the two of you conversed until dawn frequently. Always this spot. It took everything in you to fight off a pang of joy upon experiencing such an epiphany. Izzy didn't notice that you had appeared beside him until you looked over at him finally.

"Are you alright? You seemed a bit...I don't know. Not yourself this morning, and last night."

"I'm fine," you shrugged, knowing Izzy would see right through you like you were a phantom.

"I don't buy that for a second," Izzy rolled his eyes. And with that, silence surrounded you both once again. It frustrated Izzy to no end that he couldn't figure out what was plaguing you. He always felt as if he was able to put a finger on whatever it was that bothered you, he prided himself on knowing you that well. The last thing he wanted was for you to become a stranger after all the two of you had endured together. The thought of losing you filled him with a sorrow he had never felt before.

"I'm sorry about what I asked you last night. About past lives and stuff," you suddenly said. Yet another moment where your mind and mouth weren't synced. You regretted saying this as soon as you began to speak, but you knew that once you did, there would be no stopping, no taking anything back.

"What was that all about, anyway?" Izzy implored. You almost scoffed at his tone but when you met eyes with him, you instantly realized that he genuinely wished to know. His eyes sort of twinkled when he was curious, and this was the first time you noticed such an endearing phenomenon.

"I just," you exhaled, pausing before you spoke again, this time choosing your words carefully. "Why'd you save me that day at Jackie's?"

Izzy was taken aback at such a question. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Not at all, actually," you laughed in annoyance, which was only a coping mechanism for the extreme anxiety you were undergoing in this moment.

"I honestly can't give you an answer you'd want," Izzy admitted. "I just felt...called to. I could tell it would be nice having you around here. I wanted to give you a place you could call home."

"So, wait, you care about me?" you inquired seriously, which only earned a chuckle of disbelief from him.

"Of course I do, dammit!"

"I don't know, Iz, I just...from the moment we met I felt this connection to you and I can't explain it. No matter how hard I could try, I won't be able to. I felt like I was meant to be around you."

"You think I didn't feel that way, too?"

"You did?" you asked, a glint of hope looming in your voice.

"Of course I did. And, I do. I can't explain it either. But I felt as if we were meant to be around each other, in each other's lives. I don't know," he rambled nervously. This was the first time you had seen Izzy like this. It was a side of him you weren't even sure he possessed until now.

"I guess I sort of caked that to the past life shit," you sighed. "And when you said you didn't believe in past lives, I freaked out and took that as you not caring about me and everything we've built just felt like a huge lie."

"Everything we've built," Izzy repeated.

"I'm so sorry," you laughed embarrassedly. "I don't know what I'm talking about."

"No," Izzy cut you off, putting his gloved finger to your lips. You could feel Izzy's breath on your face. "If I didn't care about you, I wouldn't have asked you to come with me. I had only known you for a few moments and I already knew you would be...important to me."

You were absolutely baffled. You opened your mouth to speak, and not a sound escaped it. Izzy took a step closer to you, slowly moving his hand to cup the right side of your face.

"And it helps that you are just...beautiful," he whispered as your foreheads touched. You could've sworn your heart was going a million miles a minute and that you would need some sort of village medic after this. As if it were instinct, your hand made its way into his carefully swept hair, and it felt like silk between your fingers. All of your worries suddenly melted away as you melted into one another, your lips brushing up against one another's. You nodded pleadingly, yes, you wanted this, followed by a nod from Izzy and finally, like puzzle pieces, your lips connected. It felt effortless and so, so right to share such closeness. Two becoming one, two souls merging to create a love bigger than either of you. A love that had been carefully crafted ever since the first day of meeting. A love that the both of you knew would inevitably take hold, because it always did in all the stories you devoured and then later went on to show to Izzy. A love that you had craved since you heard of the concept of it. A love that Izzy never thought he would attain in his lifetime.

You gasped happily for air, yet your foreheads still touched. Izzy gazed at you as if you were the only other person in the world and the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes upon.

"Perhaps I haven't had any past lives," Izzy breathed. "but I will have love for you in all my next."

[soracities]

Your account is absolutely wonderful.. I am assuming that it takes a lot of time and dedication to absorb so much art... I find myself drifting away, always exhausted from my job... So I guess my question is what do you do for work and how do you stay inspired?

most of my time is spent child-minding and while that has left me with very little time to read and watch the things i want--and can be quite exhausting in and of itself--i think there is a little trade-off in that children keep you attentive to the world around you in a way you would not otherwise be, if only because you have to be that attentive to answer all their countless questions. so in a sense there is some inspiration i glean from that.

otherwise, i think this blog sometimes does give off the impression that i'm more well-read than i actually am; in reality, i dance on the surface of a lot of artworks but am passionate about maybe a tiny handful of works, and maybe, like, two painters. i have a "to watch" list that far exceeds my lifespan given that i actually watch, maybe, 3 movies a year. i have finished one (short) book since 2023 started and it took me six months to read that. the books that i've managed to read over the years, i've read chiefly in bursts and almost always in time periods where i was lucky enough in that i didn't have much to occupy me; even then, i'm aware i didn't read as much as i could have done with the time i had, but i'm also the kind of person who cannot devour book after book endlessly, either--i have a very clear saturation point, after which i need to do something different.

i think this blog, more than anything else, is a kind of repository of all the little fragments of thoughts or books or the world that interest and catch me and that i want to keep, but what i actually spend time with and dive into makes up an absolutely miniscule fraction of that. there have been long months (and years) where i did not have it in me to maintain any kind of sustained attention to reading or poetry, but i think the ability to do so is a huge, often unacknowledged, priviliege that requires not just time and economic security, but also mental clarity. i'm saying this to stress that what you feel, especially with whatever demands your job makes on you, is entirely normal and not anything to be ashamed of: the toll bills take, that laundry takes, that cooking and cleaning and countless other errands take are not to be underestimated when you go into them already sapped of most of your reserves in the first place.

it's something i've felt quite often (and still do); carving out the time to read as much or as often as i would like to does require dedication which i do not always have the energy for. but i think for me, to answer your question regarding inspiration, especially during the times when i'm not reading anything, inspiration is in paying as much attention as i can to the world around me, no matter how tiny the details are. there's a quote by william stafford where he talks about the ability to have "one vivid morning" and then "chain myself to it for fifty years". i don't have any set "philosophy" on life, but that is one thing i have always lived by: i still remember a single razor of light i saw on the railway tracks one morning a year ago which caught me by surprise, or the time on the bus when the setting sun filled the top deck and i knew then by the colour of it that summer was coming, or when i got up close to a patch of damp moss to see all its tiny little hairs more clearly, or one afternoon five years or so ago when i bought some loose pears from a corner shop and they were the sweetest, most-melt-in-the-mouth-juiciest pears i'd ever had....i can obsess over the light through a window over and over and over again no matter how often i see it. my mother put some lilies in a vase in the living room a few weeks ago and the entire time i was enraptured with how the scent hit me everytime i'd come into that room. even after more than a week they still enraptured me; each time was like i discovered them all over again and that brightened my mood so immeasurably.

for me inspiration is chiefly about recognizing the things that bring me joy and then holding them as closely as i can. there's a game i've started playing if i'm on a long bus trip where i take the number of a random bus stop i pass and if it's lower than 2020 i google what events happened in that year and pick the one that interests me most: if i'm going to be on my phone anyway, i will be on it in a way that aligns with what i already enjoy (FACTS!) and won't drain me (social media). when i don't have the energy to finish or even pick up a book, i'm subscribed to sites like Aeon, Ordinary Plots, Diaries of Note, or grieftolight on instagram (shoutout to forever beloved @firstfullmoon doing the lord's work with that account, truly), or podcasts i like, which allow me to read or experience little bits and pieces here and there without the pressure or anxiety-inducing commitment. if there is a poem i love i try to spend as much time with it as i can, which often just takes the form of me writing it down (by hand, usually-- that part is important) into a ledger of poems i keep which i can return to whenever i want, underlining my favourite parts or just rereading what spoke to me (i also love going to exhibits or museums (which, luckily, are mostly free where i live) or taking note of all the random bits of street art i see)

a year or so ago i also started, and this has changed my life, to copy down some of my favourite quotes i've reblogged onto little cue cards and stick them on the wall by my bed. some are poems, some are bits of novels or scraps of philosophy, some are motivational tidbits, but all of them are things i want to be reminded of. it helps me remember the lines i most want to keep and also grounds me in an odd way, but more than that, it just makes me happy. if i'm doom-scrolling, or having a rough evening, i can turn to that wall and read the things that mean most to me.

i don't know if any of this helps, and i'm conscious of not putting these out there as a cure-all because i'm very aware of how quickly, and how easily, this society and its set-up can drain you. i am, though, a staunch proponent of approaching art (any kind) and your engagement with it from a place and a pace that is true to you, before anything else, and that includes taking into account your own circumstances and what would bring you the most enjoyment within the means you have available to you: sometimes that's a 20 minute radio interview about blackholes, sometimes it's counting how many birds you pass as you walk through the park, sometimes it's 150 page novella it takes you half a year to finish. whatever it may look like, center your own pleasure first. i hope this can give you something, anon ♡

[diezmil10000]

2023 art summary + thoughts on my own art progress under the cut!!

(template by HedgeCatDragonix on deviantart)

so i've been doing this for 10 years :P

i'm not posting these pics in high quality, they're somewhere on the internet if you want to scavange for a bit. i didn't start taking art seriously until late 2015 and i honestly don't like looking back at old drawings. i still like my 2022 art summary but it wasn't until this year that i'm proud of all my finished artworks.

my art journey is complicated. i'm not one of those artists who can say they've been drawing for all their lifes. i used to trace pokémon in my school agendas but that was it. around 2013, a couple of friends invited me to their Skype server where we used to draw each other's ocs and make art memes and stuff - it was fun and cringe in the most positive way i can say it :] i didn't know shit about art and i took pride in drawing on MS Paint with a mouse just because it was hard.

(all of my drawings until may 2018 were made with a mouse)

when i was 15 yo i got into Love Live! and i decided to get better at art because i didn't want lesbian fanart to be made only by creepy cishet men. at some point i watched this video from Sycra and it rewired my brain. i understood that i needed to actually practise and understand what i was doing, and that i wasn't going to improve just by observing. its follow-up video also helped me a lot, i remember watching it on the day it was posted jskhfdjdfd.

and so fast forward until 2021 approx. i spent all of those years practising drawing in my traditional sketchbooks, so my improvement was steady. the only problem, and in retrospective i see it as a Big Problem, is that i was grinding mindlessly. by that i mean that i copied artists i liked and i drew again and again stuff i was bad at, but i didn't think too deeply about it or analysed my own art to look for faster ways to improve it. i also don't take feedback well so i didn't ask for it either, which further slowed down my progress.

on top of it, that just made me better at drawing, not at illustration. i firmly believe that a good drawing is hard to ruin but i could have made my illustrations way more interesting if i had started going wild with colors and effects way earlier. i don't exactly regret my choices because at the end of the day it's just my hobby, and i've been praised for drawing a lot and for challenging myself to practise drawing traditionally, so i want this to be read as introspection rather than complaints!!

the reason why 2021 was a big change in my art is because in november i did this monstrosity:

i got an Android tablet to be able to draw in class and took the challenge alongside my friend Nico, who also did their own Huevember. hola si estás leyendo esto Nico, aunque lo dudo :) i can't say that any of the drawings made me better at anatomy, or composition, or colors. i can't say that they solidified my knowledge, either. but they planted a seed in my brain that would fully bloom in late 2022, which is the seed of hating the finished result of some pieces so much that i forced myself to improve.

everyone has their own motivation to get better at art and i've always thought that mine was a healthy one (i want to draw more lesbians, that's all). however, i've had a very solid 2023 and now i don't cringe at any of my pieces, plus i can notice any mistakes they have without wanting to delete them from existence - and i could only get there because at the end of 2022 i told myself i wouldn't make any more ugly illustrations. like, period. i didn't want to get anxious every time i had to look back on my own art.

i also learned that no ammount of compliments from others would magically make me like a piece i see as mid at best. of course, i appreciate every single nice comment i get (genuinely, i get very happy knowing that other people love my work), but gratitude doesn't fix a skill issue.

so, late 2022, many things happened. first i got cancelled on twitter over a drawing of my beloved mizuki from project sekai (this info will be relevant later). then i spent a whole month doing this other monstrosity that is to this day the best thing i've ever done. i haven't peaked it (yet):

this comic actually made me improve and solidify my skills. it wasn't a class assignment, or a collaboration, or anything more than a headcanon i shared with a friend - it was pure brainrot over Revue Starlight and it made me put all my cunt into it. this was also the point at which i started filling in blacks with the bucket tool instead of picking a very dark color, which is a big part of my current style :3

the thing about people cancelling me is that i had to distance myself from fandoms and eventually change accunts, which also affected how i perceived my own art. even if i draw for myself, at the end of the day i still draw characters that are loved by many people, so i disabled comments and stopped interacting with other artists of my fandom circles. that led me to go on hiatus at the start of 2023, knowing that it was time for a fresh start (my art accounts were 5 years old anyway).

that period of time made me think a lot about my finished pieces. since i wouldn't post them until i had a new account, i would stare at them for longer than ever or make small changes even if days had already passed. letting my mind rest from illustrations i had been working on and knowing i could change them whenever i wanted was a big step forward.

i realised that for the past years i had been in a hurry to post my drawings as soon as i was done with them instead of appreciating them. that was a turning point for my mindset. this was also past the time i decided to stop making ugly art, but i hadn't really taken any measures to get better. so i changed the wording of the challenge: i can make ugly art but i can't post it if i don't like it.

it doesn't sound epic, but for some reason it worked. every time i was in the middle of making a drawing that looked kind of ugly, i changed it until it looked right. not perfect, but good enough to avoid cringing in the future. some times i had to redraw it from scratch with a more interesting pose. some times i needed to add a background or a graphic element to make the characters pop. and somewhere on that period, i went wild with colors and effects, and a lot of times that saved a piece that would otherwise be boring.

i have to thank Revolutionary Girl Utena and Revue Starlight for making me experiment a lot during my hiatus. both pieces of media, one being the daugher of the other, give artists so many visual metaphors and interesting topics to work with. the revstar brainrot had been there since the junnana comic, but rgu was something i had been meaning to rewatch for a couple of years and it hit me like a fucking train. it also made me create one of the comics i'm the most proud about:

then i got into homestuck and my art got. well. stuck!! >D< but it was okay because i wasn't making ugly drawings anymore. i was putting into practise a lot of things i had been learning or experimenting with, especially regarding colors and character interactions. and the yuri was delicious hmmmmmmm.

the rest of 2023 was very linear in terms of art but not so much in terms of fandoms (?). which is fine, honestly, but i was also glad to get back into Fire Emblem: Three Houses in late that year because when i first got into it in 2019 i didn't have the skill to draw everything i wanted to draw. and i still haven't drawn all the yuri scenarios that i've been cooking in my mind, but i have until forever to do it!!

so for 2024 i want to study some stuff i feel i'm still lacking in. i think i've always had a good eye for composition, but i've never actually pushed it in my finished illustrations - they depend a lot on the poses because i've always been prioritising drawing over everything else. that needs to change this year.

i also want to get better at drawing characters from extreme angles. i've always felt like my poses are a bit flat and i think i can study photos taken with wide angle lenses to improve at that.

and of course i still want to draw faster, which is something i've always struggled with. i think i have a good rhythm of "producing" art (excuse me for the poor wording), but i'm still too slow for the kind of artstyle i want to achieve, which includes having a looser lineart and less details in irrelevant areas of the drawings. i think that overdoing the lineart actually hurts my illustrations, because everything ends up pulling the viewer's attention with the same energy. i also think messy artstyles are neat.

i promise i'm not crazy and i don't hate what i do. in fact, it's precisely because this year i managed to make some pieces with that kind of feel that i know where i want to aim. special mention to the junnana comic because i haven't been able to replicate that lineart ever since.

examples:

as for the stuff i like about my current artstyle, i definitely want to keep the way i color!! and by that i mean the method i have for applying filters that make my colors pop. i could maybe play more with textures too.

i also like the way i depict intimacy, and people have praised it too. thank you for noticing. it's the yearning that's doing it, not me. but i don't think i'll ever change the content (?) of my art, i eat breathe and speak in yuri. if anything, there are still some ways of conveying feelings that i haven't been able to draw because i lack the skill to do so, but i'll keep trying ;)

i honestly didn't expect this post to be this long. i've been writing for hours now and i'm not sure my thoughts are coherent for anyone that isn't me. i also can't grasp the idea that some people know me from fanart i did in 2016 while others started following me last month, time is wild and it's an extra dimension of complexity that i don't know how to account for when i write stuff like this.

but again, as i do with art, i've written this for myself. it's been nice to put my thoughts in order. i think i've only talked about art in depth with like 5 people and it's always been in casual conversation. no creo que estéis leyendo pero Nahia y Henar os amo y he aprendido mucho de vosotras.

thank you for reading until the end if you have. i hope you have not only a nice day but a nice year. let's meet again in the future.

[stellar-skyy]

DANCING IN THE MOONLIGHT - Nilou x reader

i. SUMMARY: What if Nilou had an artist for a partner? ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: None! iii. NOTES: Fluff, artist!reader, gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, 1.5k words. iv. A/N: aaah i love nilou she deserves so much love. the majority of this was written in one sitting, which is surprising cause i am a big procrastinator :')

Imagine Nilou with an artist for a partner.

She met them directly after a performance. It was hardly the start of a love story; rather a random chapter in the middle of a slice-of-life novel, something that she’d never dream would change her life. It was a few words, traded between her usual thank you’s and appreciations that she received at the end of her dances.

“Miss Nilou,” A voice called out over the swarm of people. (And it was truly a crowd that day! Nilou couldn’t remember how long it had been since so many people showed up for a performance.) “Hey—excuse me, sorry—Miss Nilou!”

“Hm?” Nilou turned, wide-eyed and overwhelmed by the people surrounding her. They were all offering her such kind words; her cheeks couldn’t turn redder if she tried.

The voice that was louder than the rest came from a figure struggling to be noticed from the outskirts. Nilou excused herself from the people trying to mob her, and smiled warmly at them. “Hello. Were you there for the show?”

“Yes, I was! It was the most amazing thing I’ve seen!” The person grinned, eyes shining. Their eyes were so pretty, Nilou could have watched them all day. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it before. It was so graceful, and elegant… like something out of a work of art.”

“I appreciate your support!” Nilou giggled, her cheeks turning pink. “If you’re interested in seeing another performance, I will be here in three days.”

“I just might have to take you up on that offer. Goodby—”

That was all she heard of the person before they were swallowed up by the crowd.

Fortunately, it was far from the last time she’d see them.

Because they came to her next performance. And the one after that, and the one that followed it. Watching her with transfixed eyes; meeting her with more excited words spilling from their lips.

Short bursts of conversation after her show turned into dinner at Puspa Cafe and nights spent walking along the Bazaar with only each other for company. There, Nilou shyly asked them about themself; their family, their work. What their dreams were, and what they did to pass the time.

"I like to draw," (Name) explained, pulling a sketchbook from their bag and flipped through the pages. The drawings within were startlingly beautiful; delicate charcoal sketches of various figures, watercolour paintings made with rich and vivid pigments, and an assortment of pencil drawings of the sights of Sumeru City.

Nilou stared with stars in her eyes. "That's—that's so amazing!"

"Oh," Their eyes went wide, a nervous laugh escaping their mouth. "I'm not that amazing. I've just been practicing a while."

"You are! You have a talent, (Name)! You have to be proud of how far you've come, and the skills you've learnt!"

"Thank you, Nilou..."

She smiled at them, sunshine radiating from the warmth in her eyes. They stared back at her, traces of embarrassment and flattery still lingering in their expression. They looked simply lovely that night, as picturesque as any one of their artworks. And once Nilou had her eyes on them, she couldn't quite bring herself to look away, not when the cool glow of the streetlights fell on them at just the right angle to make their face practically glow, so breath-taking and—

Oh.

"I think..."

"Hm?"

"I think you're my favourite person." Nilou said breathlessly. (Name)'s eyes widened, their lips parting with a tiny gasp.

"Thank you," They whispered. "You're... you're mine too."

Nilou wasn’t quite sure when they became something more than friends.

It could have been the time that they went out to the edge of the Avidya Forest for a picnic, where Nilou brought her favourite pudding and an array of tiny cakes that she made the day before, when they sat by the river for hours dipping their feet into the water, how she found herself with her head in their lap by the end of the day.

It could also have been the time when Nilou excitedly begged them to let her teach them how to dance; where they stood awkwardly in the centre of the stage as she fussed around them, gently adjusting their arms and hands, leaning over their shoulder to correct their stance, and finally showing them how to sway and glide and spin across the stage.

She didn’t really care when things changed; to her, it was only important that they had. She would cherish the memories that they gave her, inscribing their smile to her memory, feeling delightfully dizzy at the thought of their arms around her. She’d wait at the end of her performances with that shining hope that they’d be there to rush up to her and spin her around in a hug. They didn’t show up for every performance, they had a job after all. But out of all of them, the ones where they were watching were her favourite.

Nilou tried not to look at the crowd when she danced. It was easier to lose herself in the movements, letting her body take over and her mind disconnect from the onlookers before her. She would close her eyes and imagine twirling around in her dark practice room, free from eyes and free from judgement.

For once, she let that go and focused on the crowd, looking across the audience between her movements. She swept her gaze across the people, scanning for the one person she wanted to see. There were many people; mothers holding their children up to see, couples holding hands and watching in excitement, passersby who were drawn in by the performance, but Nilou didn’t stop until she saw the one outline of the figure she knew all too well by this point.

They were…

They weren’t watching.

Their head was bowed, shoulders hunched over their sketchbook. In their hand, a pencil was scribbling furiously. They didn’t bother to look up at Nilou at all.

Her breath spiked sharply, and on the next beat her hands faltered in their movement. It was a tiny mistake, but she could see Mr Zubayr’s face pinch in a miniscule frown. She quickly shut her eyes again, this time to keep the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes still.

The rest of her dance passed by in a blur. She barely noticed when the audience began their applause.

“Nilou… Nilou!” That lovely, familiar voice didn’t fill her with the same bubbly excitement that it usually did. She turned anyway, plastering a smile on her face and hoping it didn’t look too fake.

“Hello, (Name).” She greeted politely. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“Yes! I also made you something,” They pulled out the same leather-bound book they were holding in the middle of the show. Nilou felt a pang in her heart at the sight of it. “It’s somewhere around… here! I had to finish up the last details during the show, but I wanted to make sure it was perfect.”

The sketchbook was pushed into her hands, opened to a watercolour artwork of a beautiful woman. It was painted in the softest shades of blue, white, and red, with delicate brushstrokes that could only have been made by the most loving hand. The figure’s hands were poised gracefully above her head, one leg pointing to the side. Her head was tilted back and her eyes were closed, and there was a surprising tenderness to how her face was drawn, to show a peaceful—and undoubtedly beautiful expression.

The most surprising part though, was it was most definitely a picture of her.

It couldn’t have been made in one performance, so how long have they been working on the piece to have such detail? Nilou imagined them during the show, hunched over the sketchbook, finishing the last little details of the drawing. She thought of them looking up to see her eyes closed, expression holding the dim traces of heartbreak, looking down between the serene face in the drawing and wondering what could be wrong.

“Do you… like it?” They said nervously. Nilou looked up with a radiating smile.

“Oh, (Name),” Nilou squealed, breathless with relief. “I love it, I love it!”

“I’m glad,” (Name) breathed out.

“Thank you,” Nilou murmured. Her eyes closed slowly, the fear that she felt earlier melting down into contentment. A hand cupped her face, thumb rubbing slowly along her cheek.

“Nilou?” (Name) said softly. “Are you crying?”

Her cheeks were wet. How did she not notice before. “I—I guess I am.”

“Why? Did I do something?”

“No, it’s just—” Nilou swallowed. “I looked at you when you were in the audience. You weren’t looking. I thought… you didn’t like my dancing.”

As she spoke the words, they sounded pathetic even to her own ears. (Name)’s expression crumpled, and they used their thumb to wipe away the tears falling from her eyes. “Don’t worry,” (Name) whispered, pressing a delicate kiss to Nilou’s forehead. “I absolutely loved it.”

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

[ptn-imagines]

Hi there! Glad to see another PtN focused blog. Do you have any romantic sfw and nsfw headcanons for Sumire and Chief!reader? I feel that Sumire is a great partner but she gets overshadowed by the more popular Sinners paired with Chief, so I’d love to see her get more, well, love! Thanks!

You're absolutely right! I've loved Sumire for a long time and this ask finally got me to do her interrogation. I love her even more now! I feel like she's up there with Cinnabar on the list of potential perfect partner candidates!

NSFW below the cut.

Sumire x Chief (SFW+NSFW)

Even after everything, Sumire has a habit of being distant, watching Chief from afar with a wistful gaze in her eyes. They weren’t blind to it, and were more than aware that she was still protecting them from threats in the shadows.

They also, as time went on, began to understand that Sumire viewed them as more than just a friend. There was a certain fond adoration in the assassin’s eyes when she looked at them,  and her smile always seemed to turn brighter when she saw them.

It was… cute, if the Chief was being honest with themself. Sumire’s behavior was very charming indeed, and… well, she was pretty. Sumire didn’t seem to think much of herself and her scarred, worn body, but the more Chief gazed upon her, the more they found themself appreciating her as if she were the moon itself, or a particularly breathtaking piece of artwork.

Chief considered their options. It was very much against rules for them to be in a relationship with a Sinner, but Sumire was an assassin, after all; subtlety was the name of the game for her. Surely she could keep a relationship clandestine.

Chief wasn’t sure how to express their feelings in words, though, so they resorted to another language they knew Sumire would understand: flowers. Using the guise of a minor dispatch mission, the Chief brought Sumire to an Eastside park underneath the full moon and presented her with a bouquet of seven red roses, three sunflowers, and a medley of primroses, violets, and, of course, cherry blossoms.

Even if Sumire hadn’t understood their meaning (she had, of course; what sort of Garden assassin wouldn’t?), receiving a bouquet in a setting such as this can only mean one thing. Her eyes widened, and the Chief couldn’t help but focus on the shocked ‘o’ her lips formed, beautiful even when surprised.

The pale moonlight showed the blush emerging on Sumire’s pale skin as she accepted the bouquet – and with it, the confession. She held the flowers close as though afraid she might drop them, and the two stood in silence for a moment, the night breeze gently playing with their hair.

“Chief, I never thought…” Sumire stopped, seeming to reconsider her words, before continuing. “I’m honored that you’d pick me above all others. My feelings for you… I have loved you for a long time now.”

The rest of the night is spent innocently, the two laying in the park watching the night sky and talking in hushed voices. The only sign that something had changed was when Sumire returned with the Chief’s jacket around her shoulders – her explanation was simply that the Chief had given it to her, worried that she might catch a chill (which, in all fairness, was true).

As Chief had expected, Sumire expertly kept their relationship hidden – she acted much the same as she always did around the Chief, and her lingering close by but also at a distance was simply her normal, so nobody questioned it.

Well, Coquelic and Garofano noticed. Still, their primary concern was that Sumire was happy, so they didn’t make a fuss out of it, aside from some teasing remarks and well-wishes (and threats towards Chief when Sumire wasn’t in earshot. Chief was very, very glad they had no intentions of breaking Sumire’s heart.)

While affairs at the Bureau contained business as normal, a discerning eye might notice that the Chief was taking Sumire as an escort on a staggering amount of “nighttime dispatches.” These mainly consisted of walks (in well-lit parks) and visits to the theaters of Eastside, as most of the nightlife was not to their liking, but the day held too much risk of being caught.

Still, occasionally they’d find a 24-hour cafe or some such that they’d both become enamored with; they’d become regulars at those places, albeit not too regular just in case.

Overall, while their relationship was quiet and fairly lowkey, both Chief and Sumire were happier than they had ever been. Each saw the other as a break from the hectic bustle of their daily lives, and both couldn’t imagine parting from each other. Theirs is a relationship that is likely to stay together, even if official marriage isn’t in the cards for a relationship such as theirs.

They don’t often have the opportunity to have sex, but when they do, Sumire is entirely focused on Chief’s pleasure. The Chief attends to her as dutifully as they can, of course, but the simple fact of the matter is that the Chief’s pleasure is Sumire’s pleasure; usually she reaches her own climax not long after they do.

Sumire doesn’t enjoy penetrative sex very much, and much prefers to orally pleasure the Chief. Inexperience means that it can be messy at times, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad. Sumire’s devotion makes up for any shortcomings.

Sumire’s instinctive nature is gentle sex, but if the Chief asks for it rough, she will oblige with a surprising fierceness that serves as a reminder that every rose has thorns.

When it comes to kink, Sumire is very vanilla. She’s willing to try some of the tamer stuff if Chief wants it, but it’s very much not her thing, and she’ll gently but firmly assert her boundaries on this.

That being said, she enjoys the artistry of shibari and is in fact very skilled at it; apparently, in addition to finding the end product beautiful, it also calms Sumire’s mind. When asked by the Chief about how she got so skilled with the ropes, Sumire admitted that she had been practicing on herself for quite a long time.

Aftercare with these two is usually a shared bath, washing each other’s hair and bodies. Afterwards, they have a tendency to fall asleep in each other’s arms, comfortable and blissed. It’s probably this that poses the biggest risk of exposure to their relationship, but hey, they haven’t been found out yet…

[insertsomthinawesome]

Sorry if this doesn’t make sense but how do you… art? Like from looking at your art, there’s just so many different fandoms and it’s all fantastic!! How do you not stick to one or feel like you *have* to stick to one? Sorry

Aw Friend! No need to apologize! :D You asked your question plenty politely! That's a really interesting question actually, and I'm fascinated to be asked it! Because I actually do know the kinda thing you're talking about! or at least I have experiences that feel like they line up with what you're asking. A lot of its... growing up? I guess? And not in the sense of like. becoming an adult. but the non-stop process of growing and learning more about life. When I was younger, an actual child, I just Did it. I drew whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I didn't question hoping to a new interest or drawing different fandoms. I just did it. But the older you get the more complicated a lot of things get right? 😔 That was true for me.

I actually spent several years terrified, of moving on. Of leaving old fandoms behind. There was one fandom I actually forced myself not to leave for like... 2 years? Because I was afraid of all the projects I wouldn't complete, all the stories I wouldn't tell, all the art i wouldn't make. But honestly that was a horrible decision? It burnt me out of the specific fandom SO BADLY. Its only been around this last year that I've been able to enjoy things around it again without an overhanging shadow of stress.

I was still scared to fandom hop after that incident tho. Despite having gotten burned by caving to my own fears. It wasn't until I got into Trigun that I actually started to get less scared. A friend I met in that fandom, someone who was older than me, told me that... things have a way of coming back around. If you know the song "Everything Stays" From Adventure time? She said it was like that song. You will inevitably get older. But these things won't be gone. And you can always come back to them :) That clicked in my brain... and it took a bit longer, a bit more time of accepting that fact for me to find peace... but honestly? I kinda have now. At least for this moment in time. I wouldn't be surprised if the fear comes back around again, fear is funny and insidious like that. But I have the tools to beat it now :) The other two things I would mention are these: For starters: this might be obvious? But I'm a hobbyist artist. I don't make money off of my art, I don't sell it, I don't need numbers or clout in order to pay my bills. I'm completely free to do my own thing! Ain't nothing wrong with making a living off of your artwork and if that's the path that you want to walk GO FOR IT. But that path does have its own challenges. Because I don't walk that path, I am free to make whatever I want, without worrying about how it might reflect on my finances. The other thing is...

PERFECTIONISM...

THIS, NASTY LITTLE VILE COCKROACH, WILL RUIN YOUR ART LIFE SO BADLY ITS INSANE. It will ruin your NORMAL life super fast too 😔 it is an insidious little shoulder devil telling you, that you will be happier if you just do it the "perfect" way. IT IS SO SO SO SO SO SO WRONG. That is the key to the door of endless procrastination and broken dreams. SFLJSLF to get less metaphorical about it though: If you're always waiting for the perfect moment to make art for a fandom, to leave a fandom, to join a fandom (in this case i just mean "Get into the thing that interests you" when I say "Fandom") or create literally anything, you will be waiting forever. I know because i have been :') And its made it very hard to draw both in my past, and right now this very day.

Truthfully i'm still working on that one??? I've had some epiphanies recently that have helped a lot with my perfectionism... but I haven't tried drawing since having them? (drowning in the new Honkai Star Rail Patch WHEEZE) So uh. Not sure If I'm over that hill yet xD But yeah, if that's one piece of advice i could give you to take seriously, its don't chase perfection, in ANYTHING. Especially art. It will never be enough for you. And if you're doing it for other people, it will never be enough for them. Art is wonderful and messy, and human. And that is okay.

Its taken me a lot of soul diving and thinking and a lot of help from outside influence and kind people for me to figure this stuff out too. So don't feel bad to ask for help kay? We all need help. A lot xD I'm still not like, the king this stuff either. There are a lot of smaller, more niche, fandoms, I want to draw for, but still haven't, because of my own anxiety and embarrassment. There are fandoms I haven't drawn for because I don't feel like i have the adequate amount of information to be, ""allowed"" too (which is totally a fake standard btw, there is no barrier to entry for when you're "allowed" to draw something). I'm working on these problems every day.

Oh actually one last note: People can influence how hard it is for you to draw for a bunch of fandoms too. If you know you'll get made fun of for drawing something, its hard to draw. If you know you'll get praised for drawing something, sometimes that makes it easier to draw. Both of those things can mess you up BAD. Constantly drawing for other people (when its not a deliberate gift) can make you feel really upset and angry, and dissonant with your artwork.

But it can be equally as hard to realize nobody will share your enthusiasm if you don't draw what they like. That's not a judgement against anybody's friendships, we all got our own interests, and nobody can be 100% Invested in everything their friends enjoy. But It can make it a bit more emotionally challenging sometimes. And it can be hard to like?? Emotionally deal with that? in a way it makes art that you know will perform well, either with your friend group or online, like... "Candy". Its tastes good, but it doesn't give you long term energy (ie there's nothing wrong with it, but its not sustainable as your only form of sustenance) Meanwhile making art that is purely self indulgent is like eating a full and healthy meal. It gives you that long term energy of personal satisfaction, and your enjoyment and happiness also doesn't inherently hinge on whether or not other people appreciate it like you do. Obviously there's no issue if what you genuinely want to draw would also do well online/with your friends!

ANYWAYS, yeah, I'm still maturing and learning and growing with a lot of my opinions and perspectives and emotions on this stuff? Its definitely easier said than done, and while from the outside it looks effortless... I understand why you'd be struggling anon. I hope you can figure it out for yourself too! Best of luck :D also i could go on and on and on about this topic for years because alsjdfaksjdflJSDJGSD ooohhhhhhh boy I have learned and witnessed and thought many a thunk.

[maaikeatthefullmoon]

This week I have mostly been reading...

Jun 10-16th, 2024

It’s that time again! Here’s what I’ve been poring over this week!

Completed works I've read this week:

The Art of Letting Go by NekHen Rated E – By the same author as Rough Enough For Love, this is an unfinished work but ends in a satisfying place. Reading through the comments, it would appear that the author has passed away, which is absolutely horrendous and so, so incredibly sad. Much like REFL, this is a Soft Dom A/Sub C story. This narrative is so incredibly soft, gentle, and well thought out, I think it’ll be one I will read again and again. There is a great deal of subtle psychology behind it and explores a great deal of trauma within the dynamic. The ‘soft’ aspect is truly soft, unlike some other stories. I cannot recommend this fic enough.

Impromptu Collab by @mrghostrat Rated E – A standalone PWP oneshot within the And They Were Streamers AU universe. It was hot. It was smutty. It was gratuitous. Everything I love. I needed a ATWS fix and this was just perfect. 10/10, no notes.

Angel-Centered Therapy Through a Multicultural Lens: An Integrative Approach by Nnm Rated G – This should have been under my WIPs but due to it’s very occasional updates, I accidentally left it off. This is the companion fic to one of the Big GO classic fics: Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach. This time it is Aziraphale who gets therapy, and it goes just about as well as you might expect. I read Demonology in one go, whereas I’ve been reading this fic as it came out, and I think it’s definitely better read in one continuous flow. The tags are absolutely amazing, as well.

WIPs which have updated this week (which I devour as soon as I get the update!)

There Is A Light And It Never Goes Out by @phoen1xr0se Rated M - A is a researcher (puffins!), C is a lighthouse keeper on the island where A has run away to to escape his problems and do his research. The author has recently spent a week studying puffins - which is the ultimate dedication, if you ask me. Ch 10/26 posted so far

Find The Light by @klikandtuna Rated E - Headmaster A and Rockstar C. The story teases out a fraught history between them whilst keeping a tension between them in the modern day. Ch 12/15 posted so far

Under The Summer Stars by @pannotbread Rated E - This wonderful fic has taught me more about physics than school ever did (mostly because I never did any physics, but...well). A & C have to share their time at an observatory because there is Only One Telescope. Not only will you learn about astrophysics, astrobiology, and astroecology, you'll also read some of the most poetically, beautifully written masturbation scenes I've ever seen. *ahem* Ch 8/13 posted so far

Poetry Carved In Flesh by @fellandcrow Rated E – Tattoo enthusiast A becomes a fan of tattooist C’s work, but doesn’t have any tattoos himself. C convinces him to get tattoos…but due to distance, A can’t get any work done by C. Until C comes to see him. This fic has GORGEOUS artwork, and speaks to my tattoo-obsessed soul. It’s an A-falls-first-C-falls-harder story, which is always fun. It also features ghostrat’s Nice and Accurate fandom. Ch 7/16 posted so far

But, soft! by @on1occasionfork Rated M – This delightful human AU features cats! Two cats!! Both A & C have cats, A’s cat breaks in to C’s flat to be with his cat. This leads to A & C meeting and getting closer, and of course pining commences. It’s so lovely. And sweet. And fluffy. A wonderful story if you’re looking for a soft, fluffy, slow burn. Ch 12/30 posted so far.

Exodus_2 by @tismrot Rated E – Human AU set in a dystopian future. The summary says it best, really: Ezra studies programming at the University of ha-Gan. He’s as determined as he is damaged, as fastidious as he is precise, and likes to believe he'll stop at nothing to achieve his goals. His beliefs are challenged when a new student appears late to the first Ethics module lecture - and his life is changed forever. It's the future, it's dystopian, it's cyber and it's punk. It's political, grimy and slick with tears, lube and chemical snot. TW: Sex, drugs, trauma. Ch 31/35 posted so far

Free by well, me: imposterssyndrome Rated E - A & C meet (again?) in an acute mental health ward after both having had mental health crises. A runs a bookshop but is very much under his parents' control. C has been homeless since childhood and has struggled his entire life. They do not trust each other when they first meet, but feel strangely drawn to one another all the same. Where will this lead them? This is a passion piece for me. There is a lot of lived experience in it, and extensive research from both professionals and peers. It has been a real journey for me to write it, and as I'm coming closer to the end it's becoming very emotional for me. Ch 55/57 posted so far

Want to see more recs? This is last week's list.

[averseunhinged]

wip wednesday! still diligently chugging away at finishing some things.

this is less of a sneak peak and more of a probably going to get drastically edited down and become an outtake once i figure out how much backstory is too much backstory. i've been trying to improve my habits and hork up words without overthinking everything too much just to finish complete working drafts. anyway, that's why it's so long.

if you want to read other bits of what was meant to be pwp and has turned into a nothing hurts, post-s4 epic with a rebekah-centric prequel, the order it occurs is:

this week's

then this

this

this one

then this

and finally this

probably. it's probably that order. idk. insomnia is a thing that is happening again.

The mansion was dark when she pulled up. Even the exterior lights were out. Not that she was surprised. Klaus rarely turned them on unless he was expecting human company. 

Say you're a creature of the night without saying you're a creature of the night, she told him once. Why don't you go ahead and shout it? 

Klaus, she'd learned, went a little bit feral when he was at loose ends. He wasn't great at pretending to be human to begin with. Too many years of being too powerful, too wealthy, too Klaus to bother. It's not that he was rude to waitstaff or anything like that. He just didn't care about the little, everyday interactions that went along with being a person in a functioning society. He'd told her story after story about interesting things that had happened around him in the years he'd been alive, but they rarely involved his own participation. The ones that did were usually about some sort of caper. Art he'd compelled into museums and collections under bland assumed names. The milder sorts of mischief he'd got up to with Kol or occasionally Elijah, to Caroline's surprise. He didn't tell many stories about Rebekah, and Caroline wasn't sure if that was a subtle, ingrained sexism, or because he was leaving Rebekah's stories to Rebekah. She wasn't quite the orator her brother was. Caroline learned that quickly. She'd been surprised by how quiet the other woman could be. Rebekah often needed prompting to share anything, but it was almost better that way. At least it was with her. Caroline was hesitant to admit how much she liked Klaus' tendency to be a little bit of a showoff. She wouldn't want to inflate his ego, of course, but it had been a little bit scary how much he entertained her, too. 

She let herself into the house the way she had dozens of times previously, even before she'd liked him, or could admit she did. It was inky dark inside, the light of the waning moon barely making a difference. She listened for him, trying to catch the sound of a paintbrush or the turning of pages, but the house was silent.

"Up here, sweetheart," he murmured after giving her a moment to try to puzzle it out herself. 

"Did you already go to bed?" Caroline triangulated his location and trotted upstairs, her heels clicking against the ostentatious staircase. Rebekah's heels, technically, but she had a habit of buying things, deciding she didn't like them after all, and passing them off to Caroline without worrying about having spent $1200 on a pair of strappy stilettos that didn't suit her. "I know you're old, but that's pretty boring."

"Says the young woman who abandoned her evening plans to drive an hour in order to find this old man."

She wandered the dim hallways upstairs, letting herself get a little bit distracted by the artwork lining the walls. There was too much to ever really take in at once, and Klaus often manifested new pieces, seemingly out of nowhere. Some were from online auctions, he'd explained warily, once, waiting for her to snap at him, and then, when he realized she was genuinely curious, went into more detail as time went on. He had climate controlled storage facilities nearly everywhere in the world, some for his whole family, but many secret ones only he knew about. With Mikael dead and Klaus more or less on tolerable terms with the residents of Mystic Falls, he'd started sending for more of his favorites. Rebekah's, too, though he'd need a personality transplant to get him to admit to doing something nice specifically for her.

And there were some he'd either bought or brought in, because he'd thought Caroline would like them and was trying to get a more precise sense of her taste. He never pointed them out, but always seemed to know which ones she lingered over the most. While her taste in paintings was, in Rebekah's assessment, pretty, but obvious, they'd both been surprised by how often Caroline found herself in the solarium, staring at a sculpture by Tony Cragg. Klaus had smiled knowingly, though, and explained that Cragg used mathematical formulas as the basis of his art. No matter how haphazard they might seem, there was precision in his work some people responded to without knowing why.

Caroline was pretty sure Klaus had switched out a few paintings near the top of the stairs. She'd have to ask later. He always seemed so pleased when she noticed, and she was planning on taking Art History next semester, anyway. The acting class she'd thought would be fun was a mix of uninspiring and irritating, and she'd shuffled a theater major into the probably not column.

The room with northern exposure Klaus used as his atelier was dark, so she turned the corner and found light diffusing into the darkness from his bedroom. He was stretched out on the settee shoved in one corner, directly across from the open balcony doors. The late summer heat had eased enough that the breeze coming in was a pleasant contrast to the warmth of the room. She could feel the humidity in the air from the shower he'd just taken in the en suite. He'd only bothered putting on a pair of dark pajama pants, and his hair, which had been well into unkempt territory the last time she saw him and was now on the verge of shaggy, was still damp enough to curl into incredibly unfair, glossy ringlets. When left to its own devices, her own formed into an ill-behaved mass of cowlicks and loose waves, with the occasional sproingy curl poking out at random.

Caroline had worn a dress she'd bought at a boutique near Whitmore that afternoon with Rebekah. They'd arranged their schedules to always have Fridays off and had used the past few weeks to explore the surrounding area. The boutique and nearby coffee shop and bakery had become a favorite of theirs. The clothes were cute, college age appropriate, and weren't so expensive that they made Caroline uncomfortably reconsider the application of compulsion in retail settings. The café made a mean raspberry mocha and had tiramisu brownies that never failed to improve her mood.

It was a great dress. She'd decided the night called for breaking the golden rule of fashion and bought something sassy that showcased both leg and cleavage. It had worked at the bar. She hadn't paid for a single drink all night, but Klaus barely allowed a flicker downward before he returned his eyes to hers, lifting his glass of probably bourbon--it was never not bourbon, unless it was wine or champagne--to his mouth.

"Do you still want to fuck me or what?" she said too loudly, even with the ambient racket of crickets outside trying to pick up someone, too.

Klaus shot into a more upright position, making a choked, heaving sound, and coughed like he was playing Beth in a community theater production of Little Women.

[booksteaandtoomuchtv]

Witchy Woman (9/10)

64.media.tumblr.com

0.5 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | AO3 | 10

LOOK AT THIS STUNNING ARTWORK BY @cocohook38

Summary: When Emma came into her position as Storybrooke Coven Leader, she ended things with the powerful Vampire Overlord, Killian Jones. She’s spent over a decade working alongside him and ignoring the growing tension between them.

During his best mate’s wedding, Killian decides he is done waiting. He is ready to have his mate back in his arms (and bed) again. Emma is not an easy woman to woo, but Killian has never backed down from a challenge.

When Emma’s jilted ex-boyfriend returns to town and Emma goes missing, Killian will stop at nothing to get her back and ensure that nothing can ever separate them again.

Rating: E

CW: Mention of domestic abuse, blood and blood drinking (vampires), threatening situations, minor violence, death, mention of parental death

Entry for Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 2023 (@cssns)

Tag: @anmylica, @deckerstarblanche, @elfiola, @goforlaunchcee, @jrob64, @kmomof4, @pirateswhore, @stahlop, @teamhook, @tiganasummertree, @undercaffinatednightmare, @xarandomdreamx, @zaharadessert (let me know if you want to be added or dropped)

Killian woke up with Emma on his chest and the blankets wrapped tightly around them. Emma had built her cocoon around them both sometime in the night. Her sea-coloured eyes were already on his and she wore a contented smile while she twirled her finger in the patch of hair on his chest. 

“What a lovely sight to see upon waking, Swan.” 

“I've been admiring the view myself,” she said before placing a chaste kiss on his chest. 

He ran his hand along her side, squeezing her tight to him as he did so. Her soft skin pressed against his beneath the blankets. Everything was perfect. These moments were becoming more frequent - they were no less precious in their frequency. With these once fleeting moments of warmth, contentedness, and connection becoming commonplace between them, their relationship felt more real, more substantial, than it had before. She wasn’t going to vanish from his grasp between one second and the next. 

“I need to get up and shower and help Anna with the beach party preparations and…” Killian interrupted her task list with a sweet kiss.

“Let’s start with the shower - that is something I can help you with.” 

“Okay, yeah.” Emma shifted off him to the en suite. “But after coffee, I have to go.” 

“Hmm, that is a while from now,” Killian answered as he followed her into the bathroom to run the water for them. He tugged her into his shower and water engulfed them from all sides. He chuckled at the deep groan that she released when the side jet nearest to her hit her lower back. He kneaded his hand and his blunted arm into her lower back muscles, enjoying the sounds of her sighs and moans when he hit upon a particularly sore spot. 

“I’m never going to leave if you keep this up.” 

“That’s the plan, love.” Killian smiled cheekily at her as she turned to hug him in the warm water. 

“This is nice.”

“Aye, that it is.”

“I like waking up with you,” Emma admitted softly. Killian broke their embrace to lather soap on them both.

“Should you move in with me, we would never need to wake up any other way.” Killian hadn’t intended to ask her, but he did not regret it. He wanted her to be the first thing that he saw every morning, the blanket thief in his bed each night, the clothing left strewn about the immaculate house, the other coffee cup on the counter top, and all the thousands of tiny things that are involved in sharing a life together.

“Hmm. You want me to move in with you so that we can always wake up together?” 

“Aye. That’s one reason.” He answered after they rinsed off the soap. 

“Not the only one?”

“There are so many reasons that I want to share a home with you, Emma. Move in with me and let me show them to you?” 

The water seemed to roar more loudly in the quiet that followed. Time slowed in that cruel way it does when the next second will irrevocably impact your life. Perhaps, it is meant to help you prepare in case the ensuing second arrives ready to break you beyond repair. Maybe it is less malicious than that, a moment stretched out so that you know to pay attention and be fully present because what happens next matters. 

Killian intently watched as thoughts and emotions flickered wildly behind Emma’s eyes, as she drew in a breath to answer, as she formed the words that propelled time suddenly forward.

“You do have a kitchen full of my favourite snacks,” Emma smiled excitedly up at him. His heart was cliche as it soared with joy.

“Aye, and these plush towels you love so much,” he said, wrapping her in a towel as they stepped out of the shower. 

“And, that insanely large and comfortable bed.” 

“Aye, and coffee,” he offered, “with cinnamon.”

“All with the vampire that I love.” 

“All for the witch that I love.” 

§§§§    §§§§    §§§§    §§§§

The connection that they’d forged between them last night felt like a thread pulling and guiding them together. It was a bit strange at first - when she left to catch up with Anna, it had felt like a rubber band angry with being stretched to its limit. But, it quickly became a comfort, especially, after all the time they’d spent apart. 

As he went about his day, checking security for the beach party and of the town, he grew accustomed to the gentle nudge at his chest urging him ever closer to her. At times, he was sure he could detect echoes of emotion that belonged to his witch. 

There was also a new awareness of the strands of magic flowing around him and through him that he knew meant he’d absorbed some of her powers. He was a magical creature, his magic was an essential part of his being and ruled him, but her powers gave her control over magic. He wanted to explore this with her further, to ensure he could use her gifts without a cost to her and to experience the world as she did. Plus, he thought up some positions and games for them to try once he learned how her telekinesis worked. 

He was completing a final check of the security plan for tomorrow’s event before heading to the beach party when he received an email from Smee reporting a new possible security risk. 

“Bloody,” Killian cursed as he opened the missive. He couldn’t afford to overlook any potential situation just because he was anxious to get to the beach. 

He skimmed the report - a non-issue. But, he’d been delayed far longer than he wished. He shut down his computer and cleaned off his desk when the echoes of emotion that had accompanied him through the bond all day fell silent. 

His heart pounded as he pulled out his phone and called David. He was travelling at the height of his vampiric speed, the beach almost in view, as he listened to the phone ringing out. 

The band was playing and the party was in full swing when he reached the shoreline. The tether to Emma tugged him away from the party. Fear that didn’t belong to him crawled up his spine - Emma. 

“Hey, it’s David. Leave a message.”

Killian cursed, waiting for the beep. “Something has happened to Emma. I am tracking her and sharing my location with you. When you get this, find me. See you soon, mate.” 

He followed that wonderful tug toward the abandoned mines. When he reached the entrance,  he caught her scent mixed with another he knew well. Smee? 

As if in answer to his question, Smee emerged from the dark. 

“Sire?”

“Mr Smee,” Killian acknowledged. “Why aren’t you at your post?” 

“I got a call about some werewolves causing trouble nearby. I came to check it out.” 

Liar. The thought came from the magic swirling around him - Emma’s lie detector was more literal than he ever considered. The betrayal stung for a moment. The way his scent was so intermingled with Emma’s suggested that Smee was a part of what was happening with Emma. He wanted to demand answers, to hurt Smee the way Emma’s fear was hurting him, but he had to get to her. He didn’t want to waste time on Smee’s games. 

He smiled at Smee, all teeth and predator. Smee had a moment to process the threat before Killian rushed him and tore his head from his shoulders in one quick movement. He left the body and head at the mouth of the shaft and entered the mine. 

He could feel the anger radiating from her through the thread that connected them now. Anger meant she would find a way to fight, that would buy him time to reach her.

As he raced deeper into the mine, Killian’s chest started to burn as if it were being set on fire. What the fuck is happening? 

He set his teeth against the crippling pain and pressed on. He encountered a few weak werewolves blocking his progress. A wave of his hand sent them into the rock wall, knocking them out, and clearing the way forward. 

Screaming bounced around the dark walls around him and the scent of Emma’s blood was thick in the air. A growl tore through him as rage, red and hot, overtook him. He stormed forward, entering a cavern lined with sigils and one large stone slab where Emma was restrained and screaming as she battled a force he could not see. 

Regina and Neal stood in the space, watching the brutal scene unfold before them. Regina’s mouth was moving quickly, chanting the spell that was attacking Emma. Neal turned to face him with a broad smile on his face. “She’s going to be mine, now,” Neal gloated in way of greeting. 

Killian flung him against a wall to be dealt with later and turned his attention to the witch harming his mate. He darted toward her. She raised an arm, suspending him in mid-stride. Her chanting continued as she held him with little effort. He fought against Regina’s magic with all his strength but failed to overpower her magic, failed to stop Emma’s suffering. 

Regina smiled. 

Now would be a fantastic time to arrive, David. 

Killian stopped fighting against Regina’s power. It wrapped around him and held him in place. A witch’s magic would always be more powerful than the raw strength of either a vampire or a werewolf. It was how the gods kept the balance between the creatures. He just needed to figure out some other way to best her. 

An itch in his fingers alerted him of a change in the magic restraining him. It was gathering at his fingertips, aligning with the magic at his call, no longer holding him in place but awaiting his commands. 

He snarled forcing the magic back into Regina. It halted her chanting before tearing her into pieces from the inside out. A pile of purple dust gathered where the villainess had just stood. “Bloody hell.” Emma’s magic was a truly terrifying and wonderful thing. 

Turning to the slab, he waved away her restraints and pulled her into his arms. She was unconscious as he turned to take her out of this hell. But she was safe, now. He gripped her tight to him, the relief of her heart beating against his chest almost brought him to his knees.

“I think I hear something in this direction.” 

“David, my magic says they are this way.” Mary Margaret’s voice rang out through the tunnels. 

“Mary Margaret. David. We’re here.” Killian called, his voice breaking with emotion. She’s safe, now. She will be okay. 

§§§§    §§§§    §§§§    §§§§

For every day that Emma did not wake, Killian carved a reminder into Neal’s flesh. For every time she called out Killian’s name during her endless slumber, he would break a bone, heal it, and break it again. The hisses and cries of her tormentor did very little to ease his anger, but even a drop of water is worth collecting if you’re dying of thirst. 

He entered the cell holding Neal, for now, ready to claim his flesh as the seventh day passed without any change. They had healed her with his venom, the bones in her hand knitted together days ago, her body was healthy but her mind was still out of reach. He felt like he was slowly losing parts of himself every day she stayed in this state. Perhaps, it was why he was enjoying taking parts from Neal so much. 

Neal looked up as Killian entered, the fear behind his eyes dulled from the day before, and his posture seemed resigned but no longer hopeless. A dark feeling crept through Killian, his jaw clenching against it.

“How’s Ems?” 

“You don’t get to ask.” Killian shut the door behind him, the lock engaging automatically behind him with a quiet click. “I do apologise, Neal, for you seem to have mistaken yourself for a guest in my home. Or a plaything that I intend to keep around for some time.” 

Neal’s eyes widened and the sharp acidic scent of fear filled the air as it dawned on him that tonight was going to be different than the previous six. Killian’s smirk was all hungry predator toying with his prey. “I assure you that I intend to rectify those misconceptions most thoroughly before I leave tonight. I am afraid that does mean that you won’t live to see tomorrow, mate.”

Killian smiled when Neal rallied his courage to make a last stand against him. He was hungry for a fight. Neal attacked first, lunging for Killian with his fangs extended as if they would pose any threat to Killian. Killian laughed without humour knocking the weaker vampire to the ground. He put his boot against Neal’s arm, pinning him to the floor. 

“She will never forgive you for killing me.” Neal spit out. Killian increased the pressure on Neal’s arm until a satisfying crack split the air. Neal grunted in pain, tears leaking from his eyes.

“She doesn’t like you nearly as much as you’ve told yourself,” Killian said smoothly. 

“She’ll leave you. That’s what she does.” Neal’s voice was between a whimper and a whine, a pathetic sound befitting the creature he was. 

A light knock at the door prevented Killian from responding. Killian’s heart squeezed in his chest, he knew what that knock meant. 

“Goodbye, Neal.” Killian dug his hook into Neal’s chest piercing his black heart. Neal pulled in one last wheezing breath before Killian grabbed a fistful of his hair. “I can’t say you’ll be missed,” Killian growled as he pulled. 

Killian kicked the heap of Neal’s body before turning on his heel and leaving the cell. David stood outside of the door. He nodded slightly to Killian, a small smile tugging at this lips, as Killian emerged from the room. Pulse racing, Killian turned to the guard he’d posted at the door, “Will, dispose of the tosser and ensure he is properly turned to ash.”

“Yes, sire.” 

“Good man.” Killian made his way back to his room in the best spirits he’d been in all week. 

Emma was waking.

[ff12-ultimania]

FFXII Staff Interview: The Art Directors part I

From left to right: Isamu Kamikokuryo, Hideo Minaba, and Akihiko Yoshida.

Was Basch originally meant to be a young character when development began? But before we delve into that, please tell us about the time when you joined the development of FFXII!

Minaba: I joined the dev team after the international version of FFIX was finished. At first, the team discussed making a game for PlayOnline (FFXI) over a period of six months or a year, but before we knew it, it had become FFXII, haha. The character's head and body and even the decision of whether the game would be online or offline went through several changes during the development process. Akihiko: I joined the FFXII team at the same time as Minaba, after Vagrant Story was finished. Kamikokuryo: I joined a little later than the two of them, which is after FFX was released. It was only then that FFXII's development actually started. Minaba: I think it was around the time when the staff who had been working on PlayOnline (FFXI) started to join the FFXII project, that it was decided our team would become FFXII. Akihiko: At that time, we didn't have a scenario yet, so I sketched numerous characters for FFXII based on my own imagination. However, none of the designs I made at pre-production made it to the final product.

What were the initial concepts like? 

Minaba: In the beginning, all characters wear light clothing. In the final cut, only some of them do.  Akihiko: We had a complete polygon model that is named "Basch" for PS2 testing-purposes. This "Basch" is of different design than what we see in-game. "Basch" walked around on the map, but he wasn't an older man as we see today; he was a younger character.  By creation date alone, Basch was the oldest. After "Basch", I designed Vaan as the first official character. I spent a lot of time working on Vaan's design before the scenario was finalized, so it took me a long time to complete it. Kamikokuryo: It was very exciting to see the process of perfecting the polygon models of the characters. Minaba: The characters were drawn so well that everytime I work on them, I thought, "Ah, I must work hard too".

Akihiko-san, FFXII is your first work in mainline Final Fantasy, did you feel any pressure?

Akihiko: Whenever I felt pressure, I could not sleep at night, so I tried not to think about it. There are only so many designs I can come up with, so I tried to craft my own interpretation of what is 'Final Fantasy' and tried various concepts I could do with that framework, and as a result, I ended up with the current character designs.

In the staff roll following the epilogue, we can see Akihiko-san's artwork as the background, correct?

Akihiko: Yes, since the epilogue depicts what happens after the main story, in the illustrations for the staff roll, I tried to imagine the story before the main story's prologue. Actually, this marks the third instance where I've applied this approach, following Final Fantasy Tactics and Vagrant Story. My apologies for the repetition (laughs).

In one of the illustrations, Fran and her sisters are looking out the window. What were they looking at?

Akihiko: I drew it as if she were looking out the window into the world of Ivalice. Most Viera live in the forest and do not go outside, but Fran is interested in the world outside and chooses to interact with humes. The illustration is a bit reminiscent of that.

[dandunn]

I made an art influence map because @nblemons did it and I wanted to do it too!!

Template here

Honorable mentions/guys I couldnt fit on here: Yume Nikki, SamSketchbook, Monkey Punch, Wolf's Rain, Cowboy Bebop, Henri Matisse, Noda Satoru, Osamu Tezuka.

There are probably more but I've already spent way too long on this lol.

Wanna talk about them all briefly:

Watership Down: no duh. This movie imprinted on me from a very young age and made me way more of a furry than I already was. I always liked how realistic the designs were compared to mainstream rabbit designs which focus on the 'cuteness' of the animal. I think it's dumb because rabbits are kind of stroppy violent jerks and I like them for that.

Aboriginal Art: this is kind of related to Watership Down because I took a lot of inspiration from the intro and the almost cave-painting like designs. It took me way too long to discover that what was so grabbing about that into was that it was inspired by Aboriginal artwork! I hope this is okay to say because I'm neither Aboriginal or even australian and a lot of the cultural meaning is lost on my dumb ass, but I think the shapes, techniques and colours are wonderful. Painting I used in the pic is by Charlene Carrington

Lorne Lanning: is the main designer for the Oddworld series of games and I wish more people knew about him because his character designs and conceptual art are just fantastic and gripped me from a very young age. And he made a game where you play as a cowboy who shoots bugs at people!

Spyro reignited: dragons are hot.

Spirited Away: I love Miyazaki's entire filmography but Spirited Away really had a grip on me one particular summer in school, the same one where I learned how to use watercolour paints, and I think it had more of an influence over my art than the others for some reason. It's a very summer-y movie to me with very bright colours.

Edmund McMillen: probably more well known as 'that guy who made Super Meat Boy' I've always loved the cartoony yet grotesque imagery in the Binding of Isaac which I am about to clock in 1000 hours on on my steam account. Another game of his which really got to me was Aether from the Basement Collection. Watching his segment in Indie Game the Movie and how he translated his fucked up upbringing into fun, heartrending and addictive games really inspired me.

Animal Well: I only just played this game for the first time this year which is why I made it very small but idk what else I have to say other than 'just fucking LOOK at it'.

Frida Kahlo: I did a project on her for school which involved watching a movie about her life which was both fascinating and tragic. Her surreal art can be both bright and evocative and also downright tearjerking.

Pokemon: whenever I'm designing a character I have Pokemon in mind, say what you want about certain designs but Ken Sugimori and all the other artists who have contributed over the years really have the talents to make a cute, fearsome or oddball guy you want to go on adventures with.

William Turner: another one from my school days and an artist from my own country. I always loved the colours and sweeping brushstrokes.

Eiichiro Oda: Yeah man what can you say about One Piece. When I was about 15 and having daily meltdowns, copying the expressions on his characters really helped me figure out how I was feeling. Oda is a menace but good lord he can draw.

David Hockney: When I was also in school I attended an exhibition of his which was basically "im retired and I can draw whatever I want now" with blown up ipad sketches and these strange landscapes with fauvist colours. I thought some of it was dumb at the time but looking back I really admire his use of colours and the looser movements compared to his older work.

Masahiro Ito: Creator of Pyramid Head, Bubble Head Nurse and 'Honey Butter Fuck Toast'. The man, the legend, the 'this is fuck' guy. His blend of the grimy industrial, bloody, monstrous and sexual is so fantastic. I feel like I should also put francis bacon here because most modern horror artists owe everything to him, but god I love Silent Hill and the imagery this man created will live on in my brain forever.

[romanceuntold]

hi everyone! it's jen, back at it again since i always come around with a long, heartfelt "end of the year" wrap up! i just gotta be there. i hadn't had the time to come up with an actual heart-to-heart message this year, so i would like to share something else with you guys instead (aka my personal ending ment hehe) i hope this finds you all well! 🩵

a message for the upcoming year - "if you knock on a door and it remains closed, it means there is nothing behind it. theres no magical, mysterious, alternative life you are being denied. there is nothing you are missing out on. what you are grieving is an idea of what might have been. if you feel you have spent too much of your life in disappointment and regret, perhaps is that you have tried to turn too many dead ends into pathways, empty rooms into more than they were ever intended to be. if you knock on a door and it remains closed, it means that the path is unfolding somewhere else, and you're now one step closer to finding it. it is not your dreams that must be released, but your sense of posibility that must be awakened."

another one goes... "if today was difficult for you, i hope you know that tomorrow can be better, i hope you know that the moments that are uncomfortable or hurt or dont make sense will pass. i hope you remind yourself of all the times you didnt think you were going to feel better but you did. as you go through your days, remember that every moment is just a moment.

when you cant take it one day at a time, try to take it one breath at a time, take really good care of yourself and know that it's okay if you don't accomplish everything you told yourself you needed to today. you dont have to start a new routine or healthy habit today if it feels like too much. you dont have to be as productive as the people that you see everywhere. your life is yours and you only have this one. tomorrow it will feel a little bit better. and then better. and then better. you are safe. you will have everything that you need."

and finally, before the next 12 months begin, here's your checkpoint - if you're carrying a weight that doesnt belong to you, it's time to release it. forgive yourself for those lessons that were learned a little too late. you're human, navigating a path that's both complex and beautiful. embrance the wisdom you gained, even if it came at a cost. remember, growth knows no timeline and you're exactly where you need to be.

your timing is yours alone, nobody else's!

@hyunpic ♡ @shorelinnes ♡ @xiaoxiongmaos ♡ @choibeomggyu ♡ @yeonjune ♡ @choi-soobin ♡ @heelicopter ♡ @minhosblr ♡ @innielove ♡ @crazy-form ♡ @facethesuns ♡ @dokyeomis ♡ @moonsua ♡ @hooned ♡ @lveclouds ♡ @exocean ♡ @dowoonyoon ♡ @bcomgyu ♡ @seungkwan-s ♡ @xiaojuun ♡ @usertae ♡ @bestleader ♡ @yutito ♡ @tmpttion ♡ @dykeyeonjun ♡ @wayvmp3 ♡ @oddinarys ♡ @woozis ♡ @jeonwonwoo ♡ @tbzuyeon ♡ @twiceland ♡ @soujisetas ♡ @yeonbins ♡ @heesungs ♡ @ddominho ♡ @isitstraightvodka ♡ @euphhorias ♡ @beomieblr ♡ @gyusgal ♡ @jaeyuned ♡ @5oobin ♡ @hueningkai ♡ @pookiez ♡ @waketoearth ♡ @deerseungs

to my cosmos (bc who am I if not the one who writes a bunch of words to yall lol):

🍜🐕 chesca: you are NOT at all the mean words stuck at the back of your mind. no way! you're as pretty as the flowers, the water, the weather, (specially the ORANGE SHADES) in each of those monet's paintings. with that, art might not be everyone's cup of tea, sure, but is still ARTWORK for a reason. you're not behind on anyone, you don't need to rush, to keep up, i've told you this before, so please... take great care of yourself. i want you to be as proud of yourself one day as i am on the daily. one day that will turn into everyday. you will get there, you will be your greatest inspiration one day.

🌻 sun: of all the things i wish to tell you, felix wrapped it all in one go: just take your time, if you want to take a break, take a break. dont force yourself to do something. if you feel tired or if it's too hard for you, no need to stress. you still have time. every single person is good at something. you still have so much time. this is your checkpoint: tend to your wounds, let them heal, if it hurts too bad, i'll help you bandage them til you are good to go. i promise!

🐱 maja: as a grand poet (lee know) once said: "no matter how you look at the sky, it is still blue. when it rains it turns gray. there are also times when it's dark but above the clouds, it's still blue. it'll all be over soon, it's just an extra headache if you worry about it". you will be alright! and yes, even if that one issue (or a few issues) is still weighing down in your heart a little, it's just a bigger cloud. the bluest of skies will still be there, for you, and so will i!

🎨 agnes: i wish i could just cup your face with my hands and yell at you about all the necessary things you need to remind yourself. for now, here goes something: "you are not meant to be ornamental, you are meant to be a person. that means taking up space and being loud and standing up for your needs (and sometimes wants) and being inconvenient because that's what people are." 100 becomes 99 if a number is missing, the set will never be whole without that 1 number to it. the space will be there for it to take up, bc 1 belongs there. much like us, much like the world. so please, just allow yourself to be.

finally - to all of you beautiful people, if you guys must, just take a moment to yourselves, to reflect upon everything. love is such a beautiful and messy thing, but when it comes to the end of that line, what are we if not love personified? whenever i write these, know that i am speaking to you all specifically, heart to heart. i dont know about the rest of the world, but I know about my friend-tuals. you guys deserve the world, i dont care what anyone says, you. deserve. peace. so rest well, we got another 12 months ahead! among such violent ends, you are bound to be a wonderful start.

i hate goodbyes, but if it means opening up space for a better something, i'm willing to bid farewell for a change. so much has happened, which makes me think... what a privilege it is to be able to still be here, able to use words to reach out to you all. thank you to everyone on this list. we will all be okay, eventually. we will be okay! let's meet again soon, and then again and again and again. i love you guys so so much. happy new years!!! 🎉

[izakiisdead]

Nightmare Comfort ! (short)

I had to change the layout a little because the original artist, @/mono_progress on twitter refrains other people from using their artwork(s) :P

(btw check them out, they are so underrated TT <333 I love their art :3)

Requested by : Nobodyy

Genre : fluff (SFW)

Sam x Male!Reader

Fem/Fem aligned dni

You have always been a very busy person, you have to take care of your farm, maintain good relationships with the villagers and many more. Basically there is not one day where you didn’t sleep at 12:00 am or pass out during mining.

But this clearly didn’t stop you from eyeing on a certain blonde villager that you always pass by while you’re running errands.

He’s buddies with Sebastian,Abigail and Penny. He also lives with his parents beside Emily’s and Haley’s house.

His name is Sam.

You remembered the first day that you stepped into pelican town and your task is to meet new people in the town.

You were running around the town to find new people to introduce to until you accidentally bumped into someone, it was Sam.

The both of you introduced each other and continued with what the both of you were originally doing.

You felt your heart skipped a beat when you saw Sam for the first time.

At that moment you realized,

He was the one.

Its already Year 2 and you see yourself being held by the man of your dreams.

You snuggled closer to Sam which caught his attention. He strokes your hair, comforting you as you were on the verge of tearing up.

How did you end up in this situation? Well…

You had a nightmare.

You often have nightmares but not to this extent.

You clinged onto him tighter because the thought of it being real was too much for you.

“Deep breaths sweetie, deep breaths. Remember, that I’m always here for you okay ?” Sam assured as he kisses your temple. You felt so comforted by his touch and presence to the point where you almost caught yourself falling asleep, he didn’t mind of course. The whole purpose of him comforting you was so that you could fall asleep.

He kissed you multiple times making you smile because you're quite tickle-ish (he thinks its cute).

The both of you spent the night wrapped in eachother's arms as the night goes by.

BONUS !

You woke up feeling all fuzzy and saw your husband Sam handing you an instant pancake he made.

''What? I've never learnt how to cook, mom always did that ! but this is for my one and only farmer boy !'' he laughed as he fed you his instant pancake.

He’s such a man child.

And you love him for that

AUTHORS NOTES !

Im so so sorry for not posting for so long, ive been quite busy plus ive been keeping this in my drafts for so long TT

[vaelzz]

do you post AI art or did you make it

It's a mixture, I've been making art for about 10 years now but some of the more recent ones are incorporating AI. I'm currently combining older methods and techniques with AI to come up with some new and cool results. It still ends up taking tons of time and effort but I can get ideas out from my head much quicker and better now. I do get overly anxious and a sense of imposter syndrome because I'm not entirely doing things by hand but I've been trying to get over that. I've had a few people be negative or dismissive about me using it but I don't think they understand it's not as simple as me writing a couple of sentences to instantly get some masterpiece. I have a lot more I've worked on but I've just been too in my head overthinking it to post because I feel irrationally guilty? I mean most of my work is photographic except I've painted over them with a Wacom tablet in Photoshop which was also enough for me to feel the imposter syndrome and avoid making things. So yeah I am still super conflicted because I have a few hundreds artworks I've made throughout my life and then I have these newer ones using a blend of digital painting and AI to better assist in my process but I get anxious because I don't want it to discredit everything I've done but I also know with these new tools it's going to be harder than ever to keep up unless I use them. It really isn't worth me spending 30-40 hours on a single artwork when no one really cares and I'm not getting paid for it either, just sitting alone in my room suffering and forcing myself to make a single artwork for what? I actually had someone accuse one of my artworks as being AI made before I even used it until I showed them the earlier versions and the slow time consuming process. Like I am a bit cut up over AI because I spent so much of my life learning art and making sacrifices so I'd have the time and space for it.. but it's an adapt or die situation for digital artists. These AI models do keep getting better though so whilst not there yet it does make me debate what things will look like when they are good enough for you to simply ask it to make you an artwork of whatever you want and for it to instantly pull out a masterpiece. I find that scary because what is there left for me to do? What is my purpose in it all? Would that even be my own self-expression? (The overthinking list goes on and on lol) Perhaps it's just an ego thing though and the accessibility gives more people the means of self-expression which they previously did not have the opportunity. I guess the only part that worries me is that I put so much time, effort and thought into everything that the idea of someone dismissing or disregarding it is quite hurtful. (which tbh is the reason I barely post) All I really wanted to do was make cool things and have people go "wow, that's so cool, how did you think of that? How does your mind work?" as opposed to "Nice AI artwork". So yee TL;DR Mixture of AI but all my older stuff is done completely by me. I'm working on putting together a portfolio/collection of older works just so I can have some distinction there.