#tried to experiment with colors and foliage

[unowneyenon]

draw spewpa coward

i am NOT A COWARD🤓👆👆so i drew this thing for u moot teehee

[hotshotsxyz]

wide awake from the breeze

(buddie) (2.2k) i swore i was going to write something for @summerofbuddie so here i am with something on the last possible day lol. very in character of me. title from blue sky & the painter which i will continue to push as The eddie diaz song for season 8

The air is crisp and cold, and finally, finally, Eddie can breathe.

The San Gabriels are beautiful this time of year, but it’s hard to appreciate the changing leaves when he’s watching Buck. Their color could never compete with his light.

Buck’s fingers tap against the steering wheel as he hums along to a song Eddie’s certain has repeated at least three times in the past two hours. He’s beautiful like this. He’s always beautiful, actually, but Eddie thinks this might be his favorite version of Buck. Happiness suits him.

They’ve been tumbling towards something since Buck broke up with Tommy, since Eddie finally let loose the words that have been stuck in his throat for years. For once in his life, Eddie isn’t overly worried about time. For once in his life, he’s got plenty of it.

They reach a scenic overlook, and Buck pulls over. He takes his sunglasses off and drops them on the dashboard, then looks over at Eddie and grins.

“See,” Buck says brightly, “I told you it’d be worth the drive.”

Eddie twists in his seat so he can face Buck a little more directly. His curls are wild from the wind, and his eyes glow in the late afternoon sun. “I didn’t doubt you for a second,” Eddie murmurs.

Buck’s smile grows impossibly wider. The foliage doesn’t stand a chance. “You want to get out for a little? Stretch our legs?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees easily.

There’s a trailhead just a few hundred feet away, and Buck bounds toward it eagerly.

“Half a mile out and back?” he calls over his shoulder after studying the map for a second, as if there’s anywhere Eddie wouldn’t follow him.

“Let’s do it,” Eddie replies as he sidles up next to Buck.

Buck smiles at him again, and it’s a little like watching the first light of dawn stretch across the horizon.

They mostly walk in silence, but every few minutes Buck pauses to point out a particular tree or bird. It’s kind of incredible, the way he latches onto information and then gifts it to Eddie in a single excited breath. Eddie’s got his own personal guidebook to the world, and he makes everything feel new and special.

The trail ends at the bank of a small, placid lake surrounded by rocky outcroppings. Buck sits on one and pulls Eddie down next to him.

The sky above them is cloudless and clear, a brilliant blue that’s reflected in the water. A few leaves drift slowly across the surface, leaving behind tiny wake trails. It’s peaceful in a way Eddie’s rarely gotten to experience in his life. He isn’t sure he’d even be capable of appreciating that if it weren’t for Buck.

“I think I want to do this forever,” Eddie says as they stare out across the lake.

Buck knocks his knee against Eddie’s. “What?” he asks, “Watch the leaves turn?”

Eddie looks at him and finds a soft smile that tells him Buck knows exactly what he means. “Yeah,” he says, knocking his knee back, “something like that.”

For a long moment, Buck holds his gaze. “Yeah,” he says finally, “me too.”

Eddie leans to the side, allowing his weight to settle against Buck’s shoulder. He tries not to worry anymore about whether or not he deserves to have someone like Buck in his life. He has him. Buck picks him, over and over again, and even though Eddie’s not sure he’ll ever quite manage to wrap his head around it, he’s long since decided the only way he needs to feel about that is grateful. And god is he grateful.

Buck closes his eyes and tips his face toward the sun. His cheeks are tinged with pink, and it’s hard to tell if it’s the cold, the beginnings of a sunburn, or something else entirely that’s caused it. Eddie finds that he wants to know, wants to press his fingers to Buck’s skin and see if the redness fades or grows.  

It’s an impulse he could give in to; Buck would let him. There’s something about this moment he wants to freeze though, and if he moves it’ll change. Instead, he watches. He commits every detail to memory. When he’s old and gray and everything else is fading, this will be what he remembers.

A gust of wind blows down through the valley, and Buck shivers with it, nose scrunching. He opens his eyes and looks at Eddie. “I’m cold,” he admits with a sheepish smile.

“You’re always cold,” Eddie says, voice dripping with fondness.

Buck tilts his head in acknowledgement. He flexes his fingers a few times, probably stiff in the autumn air.

“C’mere,” Eddie says a little nonsensically. Buck will understand.

Buck holds his hands out and Eddie takes them. He vigorously rubs at them until they’re satisfyingly friction warm. He keeps them when he’s done, holding them together between his palms to protect them from the wind. Buck ducks his head and grins.

“You’re like a space heater,” he says, shuffling impossibly closer.

“And you’re like an icepack,” Eddie replies.

Buck blows out a soft, amused breath. “Makes me handy to keep around in the summer,” he quips.

“I always want you around.”

Another version of Eddie might’ve hesitated, might’ve buried that instinctive reply as far down as possible, shoved it next to all the things he refused to examine. Too bad for that Eddie; he wouldn’t get to see the pink on Buck’s cheeks darken and spread.

“I always want you around, too,” Buck says, quiet, like he might scare away the moment if he speaks too loudly.

Eddie’s been waiting. For what, he’s not entirely sure. For him and Buck to be alone, though that’s hardly a rare occurrence. For all the doubtful voices in his head to go silent, but Buck’s been quieting those for years. For him to feel settled in his skin. For the world to stop turning around them long enough to do it right. All at once, Eddie feels like there’s nothing else to wait for.

“I love you,” he says, and the words taste good. They’re the icy fresh snow melt that streams down mountains in the spring, the bright tang of citrus in the summer, the spicy warmth of mulled cider in the winter, and soon, he thinks, he’ll know for certain that they taste like Buck in the fall.

A small noise spills from Buck’s mouth and he sways forward, less like he’s leaning in and more like he can’t help but be caught in Eddie’s gravity.

“Eddie,” he whispers. His eyes shine.

“Buck,” he replies.

For most of Eddie’s life, he’s been afraid. He’s pushed past it, locked it down, pretended that the twist of anxiety in his gut was never more than passing butterflies. Here, though, now, he doesn’t even feel brave. He’s too sure, Buck makes him feel too safe; there’s no fear for him to fight against.

Buck blinks a few times and swallows visibly. Eddie rubs his thumbs in soothing circles against Buck’s wrists.

“You…” Buck starts, rough and awed.

“Take your time,” Eddie says, unable to hide his amusement.

Buck huffs and kicks at Eddie’s ankle. “Forgive me for taking a second to process literally the best thing I’ve ever heard,” he retorts without any bite.

“Oh no, I mean it,” Eddie says with a wide grin. “I’ll sit here all day. I’m not cold.”

A startled laugh jumps from Buck’s throat. “Be quiet, let me finish processing,” he says.

“Process away,” Eddie murmurs.

A few seconds pass and he watches the gears turn in Buck’s mind. Eddie knows the way they like to twist and catch, but he’s not worried. They’ll have a lifetime to discard all the worst-case scenarios.

 “Okay,” Buck says finally. “I’ve processed.” He pulls his hands from Eddie’s grip and raises them to his jaw. He leans in and Eddie meets him halfway.

Eddie was right, but also wrong. Buck tastes like love, yes, but he also tastes like home and joy and warmth and a little like the muscadines they’d stopped to buy from a roadside stand earlier in the day. Buck smiles against his lips and it feels like the rest of his life.

“For the record,” Buck says, pulling back just far enough to look Eddie in the eye, “I love you too.”

Eddie can’t help the bright peal of laughter that bursts from his chest. He feels free and alive and happy and everything else he was once afraid he’d never be able to. Buck skims a thumb along his cheek bone and grins.

“If you’re done, I really want to kiss you again,” Buck says once Eddie’s laughter has faded to a soft chuckle.

Eddie grips Buck’s waist and hums. “I don’t know, I think I need to process,” he teases.

“Oh, that’s fine, I’ll just sit here and freeze while you—” Buck makes a surprised noise as Eddie surges forward and cuts him off with his lips.

They break apart a second time and Eddie rests his forehead against Buck’s. “I’ve processed,” he says, quiet and smiling.

“Yeah?” Buck asks, a little breathless.

Eddie hums an affirmative. “Best thing I’ve ever heard, had to let it sink in.”

Buck presses a soft, chaste kiss to the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “It takes a second,” he agrees.

Another gust of wind blows past them. A few leaves begin their gentle descent to the ground and Buck shivers.

“Come on,” Eddie says, laughing lightly as he pulls back and stands. He holds his hands out and Buck takes them. “You’ve got a hoodie in the Jeep.”

Buck’s head tilts adorably. “I didn’t…” he says, trailing off as the confusion in his expression makes way for that quiet, disbelieving smile that seems to be reserved exclusively for Eddie.

“You’re always cold,” Eddie says with a fond eyeroll. He tugs at Buck until he stands.

“Not always,” Buck says, suddenly inches from Eddie.

Eddie swallows as a shudder of anticipation travels down his spine. “No?” he asks faintly.

Buck fixes him with a look Eddie’s seen before, though never directed at him. “Nope,” he says, eyes dark and lips curling.

The effect is lessened slightly as the breeze kicks up again and Buck cringes away from it. The tip of his nose is bright pink. Eddie wants to kiss it, so he does.

He laughs again and drops one of Buck’s hands. “Let’s go, cowboy, you can seduce me in the Jeep.”

Buck’s mouth opens and closes. “Uh, that’s—yeah, let’s do that,” he says in a rush.

They quickly make their way back up to the trailhead. Eddie can’t remember ever smiling this much, but even when his cheeks start to hurt it’s impossible to stop. He’s happy, happy in a way he didn’t even know was possible until very recently.

When they reach the overlook, Eddie pauses just long enough to lift their joined hands and press a kiss to the back of Buck’s.

Buck’s eyes widen. “When did you get so…” He gestures vaguely.

Eddie snorts. “I have game,” he says.

“No,” Buck says incredulously, “you don’t. Or—or didn’t.”

“It sounds like you think I have game,” Eddie teases.

“I think you should get in the Jeep so we can go home and test the theory,” Buck replies.

“Gonna have to let me go first,” Eddie says, nodding toward their intertwined fingers.

Buck blushes but makes no move to extricate himself from Eddie’s grip.  

“Or not,” Eddie says softly.

“I just…” Buck trails off.

Eddie squeezes his hand.

“I want to remember this,” Buck says, ducking his head. “How everything feels right now.”

“Even the cold?” Eddie asks.

Buck squeezes his hand. “M’not cold,” he says.

The wind blows, and Buck crowds in closer to Eddie, trying to hide from it.

“I think you might be a little cold,” Eddie murmurs.

“Maybe I just wanted to kiss you again,” Buck replies.

Eddie grins. “Don’t let me stop you,” he says.

Buck presses a feather-light kiss to his cheek, then his nose, then the corner of his mouth. Eddie feels his cheeks heat beneath his touch.

“Okay,” he says softly. He steps back and lets go of Eddie’s hand. He fishes his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the Jeep.

Eddie climbs into the passenger seat as Buck settles in front of the wheel, just like they’ve done a thousand times before. He reaches into the back and grabs Buck’s hoodie, the slightly oversized one that he loves to wrap himself in on days just like this one. He hands it to Buck. As he watches Buck wriggle into it, he’s hit with a wave of joy all over again.

“I love you,” he says when Buck’s head pops out from the hood, just because he can.

“You’re such a sap,” Buck says, but it sounds a whole lot like I love you too.

Buck turns the key in the ignition, and the stereo comes to life playing the same song as before.

Is that a blue sky? The singer asks.

“It’s about damn time,” Eddie can’t help but sing along.

Buck grins at him and grabs his hand.

It’s about damn time.

[tangibletechnomancy]

Doing It Wrong On Purpose: Episode 1 - The Un-Ship

Today's experiment: What happens if I prompt for something, and then negative prompt all the main keywords, plus various synonyms and related words?

The answer: Some gloriously weird stuff.

For example, let's look at a negative cat:

Positive prompt: A cat on a windowsill during a storm

Negative prompt: Cat, feline, felidae, kitty, kitten, animal, pet, windowsill, window, glass, pane, house, storm, rain, water, lightning, thunder, clouds, torrent, downpour, snow, blizzard, wind, windy

Interesting! Let's get a little more fantasy with it and try for an anti-deer:

Positive prompt: A deer in a peaceful flowery meadow, crystals, midnight, fantasy, colorful

Negative prompt: Deer, cervidae, animal, elk, moose, stag, doe, fawn, reindeer, antelope, cervid, antlers, flowers, night, dark, trees, foliage, bloom, stars, night, tranquil, fantastic, vibrant, cool, magic, blue, moon, sky, crystal, stone, statue, topiary, floral, blossom

Between these two experiments, including a few dozen other generations that remain unposted, one thing I can say for sure is that for living subjects, it's a great way to get the kind of anatomical wonk that older models are (in)famous for - and it makes sense why, the model is trying to make something that looks like a certain subject...but once it starts to look too much like it, well, shit, we told it NOT to do that! Break something up! Given that I love that kind of wonk, I think I've found a useful tool for myself.

One more living subject, and let's get even more abstract with our direction here:

Positive prompt: mind horse

Negative prompt: horse, equine, colt, filly, mare, stallion, bronco, pony, mind, brain, thought, essence, psyche, intelligence, consciousness, imagination, dream, soul, visualization, intellect, wit, cognizance

Now let's try something that isn't alive. One thing I love AI for is surreal settings and landscapes - lets try one now!

Positive prompt: A magic palace garden made of crystal and gold

Negative prompt: Palace, magic, crystal, gold, fantasy, castle, estate, stronghold, temple, garden, flowers, plants, blossoms, bloom, blooms, trees, grass, stems, foliage, leaves, greenery, branches, bush, bushes, hedge, hedges, metal, luxury, stone, glass, brass, rose, polished, jewel, prism, courtyard

I then tried to see if, learning from the animal subjects, I could make it more likely to return one of my favorite "mistakes" - making it impossible to discern the point where a water area ends and a sky area begins. I wasn't immediately successful, but I came up with some results I found pleasing regardless-

Positive prompt: Secret hideout in a cave behind a waterfall in the foggy forest on a floating sky island in fluffy clouds

Negative prompt: hideout, camp, campsite, home, abode, house, dwelling, rest, shelter, waterfall, water, cave, grotto, forest, woods, woodland, trees, fountain, cascade, pond, stream, lake, river, brook, puddle, creek, pool, beach, ocean, sea, cloud, clouds, sky, cumulus, cirrus, nimbus, fog, storm, rain, sunshower, falls

It seems that with landscapes it's got a much clearer and more specific "idea" of what a [SUBJECT] without [SUBJECT] looks like; it's more inclined to invent very specific, very consistent unasked for related elements. With the animals, I was tweaking the weight on the positive prompt to avoid getting straightforwardly just what I had positive (and negative) prompted, but with landscapes, I just get... almost something else entirely.

So how about inanimate objects? Let's try a ship, perhaps?

Positive prompt: A huge sailing ship with brilliant prismatic crystal sails on a stormy, turbulent sea of sunset clouds

Negative prompt: ship, boat, sailboat, sailing ship, pirate ship, galleon, ketch, schooner, sloop, cutter, sail, sea, ocean, storm, wind, rain, water, waves, cloudy, clouds, fog, sunset, dusk, dawn, sunrise, twilight, evening

...okay, I'm in love with the un-ship. It truly does manage to consistently give me results that look like, yet entirely unlike, a ship. It is everything I love about AI as a medium. More than that, it is my friend.

At lower positive prompt weights, they only get even more beautifully chaotic.

I want to live on one of these (in an alternate universe where they're geometrically possible and structurally sound, that is).

Failing that, I will be featuring them a lot from now on.

All images generated using Simple Stable, under the Code of Ethics of Are We Art Yet?

[the-monkeies-girl]

anaya crumbs were super yummy, really flavorful 10/10, i licked the plate 🙏🙏 (i love youre writing, like i can physically feel the passion leaking through ur words its crazy) lov ur work 🙏🙏🙏🙏

I want to lick the plate actually i want to lick his entire body but that's beside the point here we got babey

Title: An Apple A Day. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Pairing: ( Very mild, I'm testing out the waters here ok ) Implied! Anaya x Human! Reader. Rating: T. ( Mentions of mating but otherwise IT IS FLUFFY BABY ) Words: 2.3K+ Summary: Anaya takes you to see his favorite Apple Tree.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

“Anaya! Noa and Soona are going to wonder where we went off to.”  You laughed quietly, feeling twigs crack under your weight as you were placing your feet in the exact spots of where the Ape in front of you did, knowing that he was walking on spots that were safe and not tripping hazards. It was a considerate thing for him to do, gaining knowledge once or twice from experiences with you that your eyesight was nothing compared to his and the dim lighting caused from the tree leaves causing shadows on the floor of the foliage left you squirting to see at times. 

And your balance? Well… You were clumsy, and Anaya knew it. In fact, he thought it rather endearing to see you stumble when you tried to keep up with his pace, and in a bid to get you flustered, he’d move faster just to enjoy the chase you’d give him. Why did you chase after him? The male Chimp hadn’t the slightest idea, but it was alluring all the same especially when you got too close… close, close enough for him to feel the heat radiating off your body onto his, evident even through the lining of the fur along his body. 

“Anaya close.” He uttered to you, letting his hazel green and golden eyes settle into your own for a second, your heart jumping into your throat as you realized that he was nearer to you than you had thought, really able to take in the detailing of his face. 

The sweeping wrinkles under his eyes, the softer ride of his brows that were always so indicative of his moods, the dabbling smile that you wished was exclusive to your eyes only and the coloring around his nose and lips, lighter than the rest of his face and all you wanted to do was trail the tips of your fingers along the delicate splattering there to see if your suspicion was right or wrong about their skin being rougher. Your eyes fell downwards to his slightly agape mouth. Sharp canines that could tear out every vital organ of your body just for fun. Swiping your teeth with your tongue, you wanted nothing more than to feel Anaya’s under your touch just to cure your morbid curiosities. 

Swallowing lightly, you nodded as if in agreement and let him lead you forward. Shoving aside the rapid heartbeat in your chest and the ever growing redness on your cheeks from having him look at you so intently, you began trailing closer behind him. As compared to Noa, Anaya was gentler in his step, almost floating in nature. But, that could have been from the fact that he appeared excited to show you something and he was unable to keep it in.

From the gait of his broadened shoulders, all your previous thoughts went out the window as you were catapulted into a hypnotic state at how the cross body satchel he had rubbed so deliciously against the fur of his shoulder, the friction inexplicable to you as you felt your fingers twitch at your sides. The sleekness of his fur glittered under the sun as it seeped in spottingly through the leaves of the trees above, and occasionally, it played against the taut muscles underneath. 

He was beckoning you forward with the wave of his arm before deciding that you were going too slow. Reaching forward, Anaya tucked his hand into your own, and without a moment's hesitation, he lifted you over a tree root that was jutting out of the ground that you had not seen before.

Gasping quietly at the sheet strength of him, something not explicitly noticed when he was around Noa due to Anaya being smaller, more tapering on the chest and waist, there was no doubt in your mind that he had the capability of tearing you apart limb by limb. That idea lingered deliciously in your mind as he smiled slightly at you when you were drawn to him, your hand placing itself softly onto his chest so you could leverage yourself before still holding your hand and leading forward once more. “I don’t want to get lost in the woods with you, I’d rather get lost with Noa.” 

“Is close, not too far… From Soona, Noa.” His tone was reassuring to you as he tugged on your arm. Forward, he said, keeping going. Drawing your bottom lip in, you pushed a few tree leaves away from your face before coming to a flattened landing, almost like it was carved, in the middle of the trees. Glancing around, you noticed that… Anaya wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Panic washed over you in small waves. You could just yell for Noa and Soona, right? It wasn’t like the Ape took you into the woods on your own and left you here, right?

Clenching your jaw tightly, a few leaves above fell onto your head, one onto your face and as you blew it away, a few apples began raining from the Heavens on your left side. Gasping at that, you were fast to jump away from them out of fear of being hit before Anaya hit the ground on all fours with a rather graceful ‘thud’. “See?” Smiling up at you, Anaya crouched down and grasped an apple. You placed a hand against your chest and told yourself to reel it in as you crouched beside him. “Favorite apple tree. Anaya knew we were close, and wanted to show Echo. Best apples here, they… grow very big.” 

The way he looked at the fruit was a wonder in and of itself. The way that his thick fingers caressed it made you wonder if he’d be that gentle with your skin if he knew you were just as fragile as th--- Your innocent train of thought completely derailed at the visual of Anaya’s canines, in all their speared glory hitting your gawk. He brought the apple to his mouth and with one swoop, he consumed half of it, juice dripping from his mouth and down to his chin and ultimately getting lost in the fur of his beard. Your mouth fell open at that, suddenly too dry to say anything of substance. Playing your fingers against each other, you turned your eyes away, afraid that he would notice you staring. 

“Do Echo’s…” He tilted his head, rolling a red apple towards your feet, “Not like them?” Sputtering softly, you reached down and grasped the apple that he had so graciously presented to you, “They’re… good. How---” You wanted to hear him talk more without Soona or Noa, knowing that they often left Anaya to his own devices at times, “How did you find this place? There’s gotta be like…A hundred Apple trees.” An exaggeration, but it garnered you a hooted and huffed laughter from Anaya. Glancing up, you looked at the trees above and were able now to see the spotted nature of the apples hanging happily on their branches. 

Anaya watched the movement with interest, how you craned your head back, how his eyes were able to see your heartbeat against your neck, hard and heavy as the blood pumped through your veins. Bringing the apple to his lips again, he bit into it and finished it off, tossing the core behind him to decompose back into the Earth.

Dragging his eyes upwards, he followed your gaze and looked at the apples above as his hand idly reached for another. Slowly, you traced the skin of the apple with your finger tips before dropping your stare to look at the Ape next to you, a motion that Anaya accepted and drew his eyes into your own as he took another bite out of a fresh apple, this one a bit smaller and proportionate so he didn't need to chew too much before answering. “Used to come here a lot. Would stop when Noa, Soona and Anaya went to Echo ruins. Long time ago.”  He explained softly, now urging with one hand for you to take a bite of the fruit you were dallying with between your fingers. 

Quickly, you were fast to raise it to your mouth and sink your teeth in, suddenly coming to grips that communal eating, even when it was shared amongst only two, was considered normal and a mild acceptance of whatever relationship was going to bud from the shared meal. 

Your bite in comparison to Anaya’s was tender and small, your teeth sinking in further than he had initially thought, but your rounded teeth did not help the case at all when it came to actually ripping the piece off and it came off in two pieces, one in your mouth and one hanging by a thread on the apple itself. At least, the blunted nature was what he noticed when you drew your lips back and he was able to see them in a clearer view and not have to captivate himself in an awkward stare when you talked or smiled. 

How weird, he thought to himself, placing the apple into his mouth and coming around you so he was face to face with you rather than sitting at your side. Watching with curiosity, Anaya narrowed his eyes and looked at your face. “Echo teeth,” He started and you drew your mouth closed so he was unable to see them anymore. “Ugly.” The way that your mouth flew open in contrast to you so shyly shutting your lips only seconds ago at Anaya’s words caused a rocketed huff of laughter to come from him, as he moved his head to the left side with an amused head tilt. You grappled that for a second - not taking it as offensive at all, you couldn’t blame him when he hadn’t seen or known any Echo outside of Mae personally, in fact, the blunt nature of Anaya’s words and opinions were often something you sought after, knowing you’d get the most brutal admission from him whereas Noa or Soona would try to be kind with their observations. 

“I know,” Bubbling out laughter, you covered your mouth with your hand, to which Anaya was quick to respond and grasped your wrist so you were unable to complete the action. Twisting your wrist in his grasp, it became abundantly clear that your ulna and radius were merely a jerk away from being broken by Anaya, but still, there was no fear in that as his touch was soft and aimable as he pulled your hand back downwards so he could see your teeth again. “They--- they’re nothing like yours, you can do a lot with your teeth.”

“Would… hurt if you bit someone?” Almost choking on a piece of the apple as you had taken another bite, you coughed a bit, staring at him with a widened gaze, “What?” “Would it… hurt if you bite?” You swallowed harder than intended, admittedly needing to chew the apple piece you had in your mouth a bit more but you staggered through it and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, “I--- Wouldn’t imagine it would do anything to an Ape, if that’s what you mean. Humans don’t have the jaw strength that… that you have.” Anaya hummed at that, gazing once more at your teeth in mild amusement. Other than use for eating, they served no purpose then. How strange. “Bite Anaya?”

You blinked, swearing to yourself that Anaya had moved forward a touch. Maybe a few inches as he peered straight into your mouth, either waiting for an answer or waiting for you to open your mouth again so he could see what was interesting to him in the moment. He looked between your mouth, your eyes and then back to your mouth as it dawned on you what he had just asked.

“I’m not going to b-bite you!” “Why… not?”

“Inappropriate.” You uttered, looking down at your half-munched apple. “Humans really only do that when…”

Gesturing broadly with your hands, you looked into his eyes and hoped that your human ideology was recognizable. Unfortunately, from the tilt of his head and the perplexity of the drawn in brow ridge, Anaya had no idea what you were implying as a heat of embarrassment rolled through your chest. “Humans only do that when they’re mating.”

Anaya got deathly quiet in front of you and now as compared to your gawking earlier, you wished he would look away from you, to focus on something else but he kept you drawn in as he looked between your eyes with his own, looking down at his apple before ripping off another large bite. From between said bites, he muttered to you, “Echo,” Chew, “Mating,” Another chew, “Sounds like Ape. Lot of biting. Noisy.”

“I can’t believe we’re talking about this.” You groaned quietly to yourself and sat onto your butt, cross legged in mild defeat at the choice of conversation.

“Hard to sleep when others are mating. Keep the village up, Anaya gets mad.”  If your cheeks weren’t reddened before, you were positive you were the same color as the apples that scattered on the floor after being shaken off their homes as you drifted into the conversation.

Anaya refusing to relent control as he continued the topic, almost mindlessly as he took bites out of his apples around his introspection, not quite beating yourself up at the fact that the conversation turned out this way, but surely trying to keep yourself tame enough to not give him all the details that he was seeking, his mouth coming to prop one more question at you between his bites.

“Have heard Echo,” Chew, “Mating…” He chewed pensively this time, the words coming to him in deep thought, though admittedly, his question left you falling backwards to lay on your back as a refusal to actually answer, “Takes much energy. Is true?”

“Anaya.” You grumbled. “I’m not answering that.”

“Have you not… experienced?”

Groaning loudly, you shut your eyes and covered them with your arm as you fell to rest on your back, splattering yourself across the floor of the woods. Maybe, if you were lucky, something poisonous would bite you and you wouldn't have to respond.

“I’m not answering that.”

“Noa right,” Anaya grumbled in dissatisfaction, turning his body to grab another apple with a rather smug retort, “Echo keep Echo secrets.”

[slushiepizza]

Marie and Mother Mary

Relationship : Marie & Milo Greer

Tags : Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Post-Partum Depression, Gender Roles, Catholicism, Motherhood, Italian American Marie Greer

Word Count : 1,510

ao3

Notes and Warnings:

this fic kind of surprised me because I'm not super into the Shaw Pack. But I do find Marie Greer's presence and bits and pieces we know of her character fascinating. I wanted to explore Marie's mind and feelings about being a mother when she's dealing with a gambling husband; and for her to raise someone like Milo Greer- she must've done a great job as a parent.

I took inspiration from my own experiences growing up with Catholicism and specifically in relation to the biblical Mary as a religious figure; and how mothers often find comfort in the thought of a figure who related in their struggles of motherhood and womanhood. It also has a theme of gender roles/ alluding to rigid gender identities because of the circumstances that Marie grew up in.

This fic isn't really... religious per se, and it takes more of a neutral standing while still criticizing how religion could be used to provoke feelings of personal guilt and trauma in someone who grew up in it, while also giving comfort to anyone that needed the universe to say that everything will be okay. If any of the themes may cause distress in you, I do implore you not read this fic, as consuming writing is a vulnerable activity.

The year was 1993. Marie Greer walked into the empty church lot with her baby in her arms. It had been decades since she last stepped on its stone floors. The security guard stationed outside looked at her strangely, but let her in once she asserted that she was there to pray.

She passed the main building for a small garden in the back. There were rows of wooden benches but nobody to be found. Good. Marie didn’t want company at the moment. To call it a garden was an overstatement- it was tiny and cramped, overgrown with vines. In front of the benches, the centerpiece of all the foliage was a statue of the Virgin Mary. Mother Mary, she thought, the double entendre not escaping her. 

As soon as she sat down right in front of the statue- Milo wailed inconsolably like he always did. 

The baby’s loud cries echoed disturbing whatever peace that was left from the place. Marie sighed, tired and weary, of this. He was an especially sensitive child, smaller than other babies his age. Marie was used to catering to people who’d fuss over the littlest things, Colm had a particular affinity for order and cleanliness whenever he came back from blowing his month’s earnings in a night, after all. The addition of Milo to the family just added more on her plate- she had to catalog every single one of his many allergies, and make sure that the room was never dusty because he’d have a coughing fit otherwise. The replacement of their popcorned ceiling had not been cheap, either, not with Colm leaving barely anything left after his trips to Vegas.

She did this all for love. For him. For her husband. But oftentimes, she felt like there was nothing left of her to give. Dry. Hollow. 

She shushed Milo and lightly rocked him in hopes that he’d calm down but to no avail. He thrashed and turned, his nails accidentally scratched her in the arm. Marie winced and tried to soothe him, lightly patting his back. It took thirty minutes of rocking and soothing Milo until the baby went back to sleep. 

St. Mary’s weathered ivory-colored face looked down at her, her expression blank and unmoving. Her lips were sculpted into a serene smile. Her pupil-less eyes gazed back at Marie. 

Just like any other Italian-American family at the time, church was a routine for Marie growing up. Her mother would dress them in their Sunday’s best and wrangled her and her seven unruly siblings into the building. “Quit fussin’ your pigtails, Marie. I did that real pretty for you,” she’d chide. They’d sit in the back of the church because tardiness ran in that family’s blood like a curse. 

Past the twelfth and thirteenth pews, God felt distant. 

Marie would follow everything diligently. She stood up when everyone else stood up as the priest lifted the circular white wafer, the body of Christ, above the altar. As a child, her height wouldn’t allow her to catch a single glimpse of it. She’d comfort her younger siblings whenever they’d make a ruckus. But the whole thing- it went one ear out of the other. 

She could’ve sworn she tried her best to listen and followed whatever the adults did. 

I have greatly sinned, escaped past her lips as she did the same thing she had now, rocking her baby sister in her arms. At the time, she hadn’t even lost her milk teeth. 

She stopped going when she married Colm. He was the opposite of the man her mother wanted her to marry, and in retrospect, she felt that it was one of the many reasons she liked him. His mind was raucous, his eyes wild and unmoored. Like nothing was holding him back. Colm used to be an ambitious man- the thrill of being an Investigator for DUMP perfect for his unrested soul. 

Marie loved that part of him, the fact that he’d question everything, unbelieving in anything unproven. 

He said that he wanted to purge the world of assholes- the unjust, those who hurt others for their own sake. As he turned in empowered criminals in the pursuit of it, he became one himself. 

Marie met St.Mary’s gaze- almost challenging her hollow stare. Something surged through her, from the ache in her back settling to her tight diaphragm.

After the birth of her boy, Mary couldn’t cook or clean. All she did was stay in bed. Her sister came by to help take care of the house while Colm stepped outside as usual. She said that it was normal, her body had been through hell, after all. But the heavy feeling, the heaviness that settled in her chest persisted for the next two months.

 Marie hated feeling helpless- her house a mess, and her baby cried constantly. She was a woman of action, and stagnation shackled her, leaving her trapped. Her visit to the psychiatrist- and the fourth edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual- had told her that it was depression with a postpartum onset. She told the doctor that she refused to accept that she was a ‘bozo who was sick in the head’ and that she will cure herself with a margarita and a sorely needed hair perm alongside a fresh coat of manicure. 

And look where that got her. Crying in front of a statue in church.

She still stared at the other Mary, the statue’s size and height caused her to look like she was looking down on whoever prayed in the confined space, guiding them iin a time of need. With that, for once, Marie realized that she was angry. 

She wasn’t stuck to her mattress, fatigued, and lacked energy because of sorrow- she was so angry, the weight of her job description as wife, mother, woman, wolf, dog, bitch- Marie weighed down on her like anchors. She was angry, at the fact that Colm was nowhere to be found throughout all this, angry at her mother- for making her a mother to her own siblings when she was barely a child, angry at the fact that she couldn’t even love her child properly because she no longer had any love left in the hollow of her heart. 

The emotions had clawed the insides of her ribs and caused her to let out heavy breaths- she was a dog panting for air when there was none. 

“When does it get easier,” she demanded to the Mother of all Mothers through gritted teeth. “Tell me, Mary,” she begged, desperate, as tears started to roll down her face. “Tell me!” 

“When does being a mother ever get any easier?”

Her voice was a whisper, barely audible, as she started to sob and heave quietly. 

A soft breeze blew past the branches of the trees that surrounded her. It moved the leaves and allowed them to move gently back and forth. The statue still looked down at her, hand slightly outstretched in a supposed kind, helpful gesture. Ants crawled from the crack in the marble, they moved past Mary’s dress down to the hem, circling around her exposed foot, past the head of the sneak that was crushed triumphantly under her toes. 

Marie sank into her seat, tired. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, sniffling. Unbecoming of her, she thought. She’d rather die than let anyone see her like this. But there was a comfort between women, she supposed. Damage from rain stained Mary’s cheek like tears- not unlike the thick mascara that currently ran down her own. The air was comfortable, easy, and Marie felt light. It reminded her of the 80s. Of girls in the bathroom of the disco, talking someone out of calling their past lovers as they applied lipstick and passed cigarettes between one another.

“I guess,” she sniffed. “I guess you know better, right?” she stared into a picture that hung on a distant wall. In it, St. Mary cried as she held Jesus' dying body. “He didn’t give you a hell of a good time either,” her voice cracked pathetically. 

Girl, tell me about it, Marie imagined the statue said. The Virgin Mary had the voice of her best friend in college. Is that not what being a mother is? The pain so bad, it feels like you’re splitting in two? Going through all seven hells for your baby’s sake?

“Why do we even put ourselves through this,” she chuckled sardonically. “If I wanted to go through pain, I’d rather just listen to Colm talk about whatever fish he caught on the weekend.” 

Mary didn’t answer, and Marie understood. Milo opened his big eyes in her arms and reached up to her with tiny hands. He giggled, light and oblivious to the puffiness of Mary’s face and the swell of her eyes. She cooed at him and held up a finger. Milo wrapped his hand around it, gentle. 

St. Mary’s serene smile was still plastered on her face, her hand outstretched in the air between them. 

[pumpkin-patch-chronicles]

Out Of Season

By: PumpkinPatchChronicles

*These stories are 18+ and should not be viewed/read by anyone underage. Thank you.*

It had been a long week for Dan leading up to Halloween night. He had just finished up at the gym after getting off his droll data entry job, leaving behind an array of assignments that would be waiting patiently for him once he returned. The Autumn air was a comfort from the heat he had built up, and with the colorful foliage, unusually quiet walk downtown and Halloween falling on a weekend he was more than ready to relax the entire time.

Dan was a very handsome, hairy, thick muscled young man of 28 with juicy biceps, monstrous forearms, tree trunk legs, barrel chested and well endowed for someone his size and thickness. His hair was mostly dark brown (almost black) with silver hairs here and there, reflecting the early signs of aging yet still decades away from being considered “old” or “haggard”. If you were to catch him in the gym (unlike where our story begins) you’d see him in a somewhat tight tank top, black athletic shorts that perhaps were a bit shorter and tighter for someone of his statute, and finished with a nice pair of white Nikes overshadowing his black ankle athletic socks. One thing to note about Dan is that, because of his stress at work coupled with his need to feel better constantly, he often went commando in hopes of showing off to all the guys there. After all why not, he was in good shape and loved the attention (as well as the occasional shared shower experience from a more than willing participant).

This time however he had just about enough of the week; he even wore a pair of regular white boxers, feeling no need to be close to anyone after the BS he had gone through. So with little reservation for what he had left behind, he made his way from the gym through the small down town streets until he reached the town homes where he lived with a roommate (rent on his low ass salary in a townhouse downtown, forget it!). Fortunately he had an extra comfort to look forward to, his roommate would be out of town visiting family over the weekend leaving him free to indulge in his more - natural state. As he ended his brisk venture through the streets to his doorstep he was greeted with an unusual surprise that wasn’t so much one to him as it was a mysterious annoyance. There sitting just off to the side against the brick wall railing was a freshly carved Jack-O-Lantern with a somewhat suave expression to it.

Naturally he though his roommate had made it and left it out, expecting him to bring it in so it didn’t get damaged on Halloween night. Regardless he scooped it up somewhat begrudgingly and brought it in. Upon entering the open living\dining\kitchen layout he sat the gourd on the coffee table and went to his room on the second floor. Once settled he stripped down to his underwear and sat on the bed, still reflecting on the disparagingly rough week. Fortunately for him, he had used his frustration to work out extra hard this time, resulting in his muscles being tight (as well as a growing third leg). Pleased with the idea of an uninterrupted JO sesh, he immediately began working on his sensitive member through the underwear. Normally he’d just throw them off and go at it, but the extra compression felt really good that night, so he though what the hell. All the while his lust advanced, another presence advanced from the first floor to his ajar door with him completely oblivious to the situation unfolding. Without warning, sound, any notion something was happening he felt a thud on his head, he became dizzy, his vision fading to black…

After some time (which Dan had no way of really knowing) his vision and consciousness returned to him. He hadn’t known what happened to him or why, but a new pressing matter quickly took his full attention. Lying on the bedside he tried to put himself upright, but for whatever reason he couldn’t manage to move. In fact the more he tried to move the more he realized he couldn’t feel ANY part of his body. He went to yell, holler, scream for help, but also realized he couldn’t speak anymore. As he laid on the bed fretting his situation, a once faint sound of rubbing cloth grew louder in his peripheral hearing. He didn’t know quite what that sound could be and wondered if his body was in fact moving on the covers, giving him some hope that he might be regaining control. Then out of nowhere the sound stopped, he felt the bed shift, heard a couple of steps, and what was no doubt the most shocking of all, felt two fairly large hands grab his head by its sides.

Within moments he was off the bed and moving towards a punching bag dummy (the kind that just had a torso and pelvis down to a fourth or fifth of the thigh) at a somewhat quick pace. He couldn’t understand how someone had gotten in, let alone pick a guy his size up by the head and travel that briskly. As he remained consumed in puzzled confusion, the hands forcefully plopped him down on the dummy, sending a discomforting pain through his neck. With his vision now locked in at the height of his punching bag, the hands slowly pivoted him around, revealing the biggest shock he had ever had in his life.

There standing opposite of him was his body, yet it wasn’t just his body…it was his body with a different head!!! The Jack-O-Lantern he had brought in that night before going up to his room was now on his broad hairy shoulders, controlling his body’s every move, every gesture, …every desire. With him firmly planted on his room’s workout equipment, his body walked back over to the bed, sat down where it had prior before he’d detached from it, and went back to stroking his now thick and erect meat log. As Dan tried to struggle off the mannequin the pumpkin on his neck stump turned to look at him. Once face to face, Dan’s body began rubbing his meat harder in his underwear, the suave expression of his body’s new head looking him down.

With each new stroke, Dan’s thick muscles heaved and flexed with the pleasure of masturbation. His voluptuous soft chest bellowing in and out, his nipples hard and fully erect like his family pride. His bulging biceps flexed with masculine envy as each rub of his pride was executed without any say from him, the former controller of it. Dan’s massive fuzzy thighs grew more spread apart as his arm became more vigorous in it’s task. All Dan could do was watch now, watch and wonder how some goofy ass pumpkin made it’s way from the living room to his bedroom and usurped him of his masculinity, his power, his very being. Dan knowing his body well now saw (after roughly an hour and a half of jerking off) his thighs spread wide, his torso lean back heavy in breath, the exhales coming out as hollowed wisps of wind from the Jack-O-Lantern mouth…his body was ready to climax.

Then and there, just as the though of his body being in complete control of a foreign entity increased his worries, his body let out a massive exhale, his juicy pecs bouncing, his legs and arms quivering, and his once cum free underwear became ground zero for once of the most massive squirts he’d ever had. As his body convulsed in ecstasy, his massive thick cock (still concealed in his underpants) shot thick hot globs of cum in and through the thin fabric of his undergarments. His massive frame heaving back and forth with every shot, pooling in his pants and on his hairy muscled thighs. All the while Dan sat in amazement at his body’s power and masculinity (his distress quickly pivoting to lust and envy of not being there to taste his thick salty cum, to suckle on his massive tit, to be lost in his overall massive being), each new spirt shifting his desire more and more.

After a solid three to four minutes of cumming and convulsing, Dan’s body finally came to rest laying back on the covers and pillow of his bed. Another two minutes came and went, and without warning Dan’s body sat upright, the pumpkin now looking back at Dan’s head on the other side of the room. It was clear by his face that Dan wanted to be at his body to live out his lustful fantasies, so with a quick leap and a steady stride, Dan’s body walked over, removed him from the punching bag, brought him to the bed, and sat him at his own cock (his body having removed it’s underwear entirely) covered in hot sticky seed. His body went to encourage the former head to begin nursing, but soon found itself taken off guard at Dan’s willingness to jump on his own former dick. His body soon laid back again, Dan cross-eyed and lost in his own former genitals, rubbing sensually against his hairy inner thighs flexing in satisfaction at the prospect of their former head servicing them to new future climaxes…

The Next Day:

Dan woke up in a grudged state, not recalling at all what had happened last night. As he sat trying to adjust his vision he could only recall the strange dream he’d had; his body no longer being his, the inability to feel it or control it, the inability to talk, and the vivid memories of lusting on his own meat after a large and hot climax. Within moments as his vision solidified, he found out all too real that what he’d experienced last night on Halloween wasn’t a dream, but in fact reality for him now.

Vision in full effect, Dan found himself back on his punching bag mannequin facing the direction of his bed, where he saw his body on (nearly) full display. Starring back at him was his massive unit of a body with pumpkin in place of his actual head, flexing it’s power and dominance in the light of a new morning. Yet Dan’s face was now shocked, as his vision focused in on the now rapidly decayed berry which took his place as owner and controller of his sex. The once suave expression now semi caved in, the luster and sheen of the color dull and waxed. His body acted as if nothing was amiss, yet from Dan’s perspective his pride was in the control of a short lived thief.

Despite it’s appearance, the actions of the pumpkin in control of Dan’s body did not wane. It proudly flexed Dan’s hairy thick muscles back at him, popping it’s chest, tensing it’s biceps, showcasing it’s tree truck quads and calves, with Dan’s family legacy dancing underneath the covers as if an animal were trying to escape the darkness into the light. There was obvious pride in the actions of Dan’s former body. The pumpkin which had just been some left alone decoration was now in charge of a mass powerhouse of testosterone, fur, and musk. Each flex a slap in the face, each twitch a middle finger to it’s former owner, each unseen drip from it’s ever erect staff a final line in a signature of complete surrender. It was without doubt ecstasy in the face of forfeiture, a sign of unwillingly yielded dominance; despite Dan’s facial expressions of worry and the pumpkin’s expressions of expiration…they both truly and unwaveringly loved it.

After an initial 20 minutes of flexing and teasing, Dan’s body arose from his bed, walked back over (fully naked say his pair of black athletic ankle socks) and removed Dan from the bag, setting him in full view of his former body up close and personal. Dan didn’t know what to expect, yet within moments he found his face rested against one of his massive hairy tits. With nudging encouragement from the pumpkin head, Dan soon took his former nipple in his mouth and began to suckle. Every lick, every nip, every suction of his former masculine breast left his body in lust and arousal, flexing it each time Dan made a move on it. Dan secretly wished his pecs milked; it’d be amazing to experience that as a disembodied head servicing his own body to production, yet that was (unfortunately for his lustful fantasy) not his case. Despite this, after some time going at both his barrels, his body shifted him to one of his hairy pits, to which he proceeded to attack it like a lion to its prey in the vast emptiness of the Savannah.

When his body became satisfied with it’s muscle worship via Dan’s tongue, it shifted the covers to reveal a fully erect 9 inch long, 2 inch thick monster, voluptuous kiwis hanging low, leaking warm fluids of desire and pent up excitement. Dan was fixated on his throbbing mast, yet began his pelvic journey at the fruit of his manliness. Due to the size and girth, Dan could only take one testicle at a time, yet the sensations were not lost, the pleasure void of any lacking. Within time it was the final embrace, the moment Dan had wanted since being brought over to the bed to service his former temple of alpha dominance…it was time to take his shaft at full attention.

His body took him by the hair and hoisted him to the attention of his throbbing thick glans, now covered in a thin layer of warm, salty nectar. In haste and desire Dan took his former helmet into his willing mouth, his eyes going back at the sensations brought to his tongue at the behest of his own body. Embracing the rapture of all his available tactile gifts left to him, he downed the upper portion of his shaft, causing his body to arc and shutter at the readily warm and moist orifice that is Dan’s mouth and remaining throat. There was no telling how much time had passed regarding Dan’s perspective, yet from the context of the light coming into his bedroom window he surmised that it must have been nearly an hour of giving oral pleasure to his meat. As if on cue, Dan recognized his body’s physical motions for it’s time to climax.

Dan closed his eyes and awaited to be filled mouth first with his warm seed, but his body had different plans. Quickly removing his mouth, Dan’s body quickly turned and shifted Dan’s head over the throbbing mast neck opening first. Before Dan could have time to react, he was thrust onto his glans and pushed until said glans appeared just past his teeth. Dan not expecting the new approach gave out a gasp which was quickly overtaken with gagging and slobbering noises as his body pressed his neck down to press against his warm sack. Feeling Dan’s head was secure, his body resumed it’s flexing position and began bucking and breathing heavily, Dan all the while struggling to find comfort while gently gnawing at the base of his plump glans. Then in one massive thrust, Dan’s body began to fire it’s load onto it’s chest, abs, and the pumpkin head. As this began, the decaying fruit (unable to withstand Dan’s body’s powerful thrusting) came loose and toppled off his shoulders, crashing into several chunks on the floor. Dan was able to notice this, yet despite his body no longer having a head of any kind kept flexing and firing off it’s load. Contempt with the active movement of his body, Dan resigned to his position and teased the base of his glans with his teeth while his body flexed and bowed in it’s massive climax.

When everything was said and done, Dan’s body (now fully headless) laid back, still flexing and breathing heavily covered it thick white globs of it’s own seed. Dan squinting his eyes beheld his massive muscular body relieved of it’s pent up sexual desires, slowly coming down off it’s high. Dan still couldn’t feel or move his body, and with no head it appeared to be motionless - guide-less on what to do next. This of course was somewhat concerning to Dan, yet in the moment it didn’t really matter. He wasn’t in immediate danger, he was at home and away from the prying eyes of the outside world and he had just finished living out some of the wildest sexual fantasies he’d ever experienced. His roommate would be returning to the townhome late Sunday and would no doubt find him still there impaled on his meat, hairy muscles flexing powerfully as if nothing was amiss. The only thing he really thought on was what he’d have to say (and how he’d say it) if Monday came around and he wasn’t at work.

It’s not like he could say “Sorry Lol, can’t come in today. Cock’s in my mouth, hot seed on my tiddies.”

[comicaurora]

So far, has there been any sort of art technique or process you've tried that made you go "that was surprisingly easier/harder than I expected"?

Oh man, yea. So many things. Doing this comic has been a learning experience and a half because of all the textures and effects I have to do, most of which I figure out on the fly because I've either never done them before or I've never done them that many times before.

The first "surprisingly easy" effect I'd never succeeded at before was the scales on the Storm Drake in the interlude after chapter 6:

It's a Droplet particle brush used on two layers, one set to Multiply and the other to Screen. It produces a very easy texturing effect that works on everything from scales to sand to rock, making the surface look like it's catching the light in complicated ways. I used it again in Dainix's desert flashback in chapter 19 to make the sand look like it was catching the light.

I actually used a similar method to draw the background in the arena fight in chapter 12 - using a rounder particle brush, but the same combo of Multiply and Screen to produce a chaotic pattern that gave the illusion of a massive background crowd without making me hand-draw ten thousand tiny people.

This one was an effect that didn't surprise me and that I sadly had very little cause to replicate, but I LOVED the multicolored highlighting effect in Erin's chapter 6 flashback in the heart of the Storm. It ended up being very simple to do and it just looked SO pretty.

Changing the highlighting colors to just the cool-tones for this page just made me like it more.

When we hit Falst's intro arc and I had to draw about a million forested backgrounds, I decided to refine the process I'd used in the first few chapters, because I wasn't happy with those results:

Starting in chapter 8 I tried a lineless style for forested backgrounds, and it worked out better than I'd hoped. Not only did it produce a feeling of depth and shadow, I didn't even need to plug in my drawing tablet to do it - I could literally do these backgrounds with my trackpad and mouse, which was a huge timesave. Combined with a little experimental sunbeam stuff and these forest backgrounds ended up both shockingly simple to make and VERY nice to look at.

I used a similar technique for the soulcrystal in The Collector's lair - stacked Multiply and Add layers with nested rough shading patterns similar to the ones I used for foliage, but with more overlap to produce the effect of chaotically scattering light.

This was another no-drawing-tablet one, and I liked this texture so much that I willingly redrew it for the stinger in chapter 18 rather than copying the texture from the earlier chapter.

In terms of effects that took longer than I anticipated, Dainix's fully-realized Crucible form has been giving me trouble for literally as long as I've conceived of the comic. Drawing fire is already hard enough, but giving that fire a semi-solid, tangible form that was clearly readable as a humanoid figure was a HUGE pain in the ass. The head and arms were easy to design, but what to do with the bottom half was always a struggle, and beyond that I wasn't always sure how opaque to make him - real fire is a semi-translucent light source in constant motion with no clearly delineated edges, and if you draw it in a way that deviates from that too much it can make it feel less like fire. It took a while before I was happy with the color balance on him to make him suitably glowy without losing the internal detailing that made his expression readable.

Similarly time-consuming, working out how to do Vash's "nova mode" took some trial and error. I wanted to make it clearly visually distinct from Paladin light magic and regular fire magic, so I focused on trying to replicate the texture of the surface of a star, with sunspots and flares rather than licks of fire or sharp-edged lightsaber vibes. I'm happy with how it ended up, but if I recall correctly it took upwards of two days just getting all those glowy effects sorted out.

Then drawing the actual starfire blast was an even bigger pain, because again I didn't want it so glowy that it was completely unreadable. To be honest I'm still not sure if it worked.

This is a very recent one, but it took me a while to figure out an effect I was happy for to communicate "this place is really, really dark." I didn't settle on a blanket dusty purple desaturation layer until quite late, to sort of replicate what night vision supposedly looks like for animals that can see decently well in the dark. Lights and darks are preserved, but color isn't so much, and this way I wasn't way-overshadowing everything and making it impossible for US to see. And conveniently the actual effect is quite simple to do - it's just a universally gray layer at 50% opacity set to the "Saturation" combine mode, stacked with a universally dusty purple layer at 70% set to the "Color" combine mode. Very easy to add quickly and copy/paste across different pages.

There's probably more, but yea. Almost all of the "that was surprisingly difficult" effects either get easier with time or I figure out ways to simplify them and make them work in fewer layers. This is the really fun thing about a longform project like this - I keep finding new ways to challenge myself I'd never even thought of before.

[parcy-anda-but-with-actual-posts]

Okay, so first time in a long time tackling a monthly challenge, I'll go ahead and make cumulative weekly posts here for Smaugust (2024). Just having fun, not trying to impress anyone, but I also want a convenient place to come back to it. =v=; General Warning: Creativity is not my strong suit, but I've tried not to be too predictable.

Day 1: Fruit — A scorpion pepper dragon. Peppers are fruits, technically, but I tried to mix it up by having this dragon be super chill, or at least lazy. It's content to be left to its naps as it overheats easily in its hot, arid environment, being more active at night, and even then, not too active. XD I can expand on lore for this, but keeping things simple for now.

Day 2: Ash — medieval/monk illustration inspired, apologies

For this one, I took a photo of the ash tree out front, and used its outline to create a cloud-breathing false hydra of sorts. Sad hypothetical story time: in reality, this is a mass of separate serpents all coiled up together and spewing thick vapors to obscure what lies at its center. These are the various children of an immortal great mother serpent, of whom all that remains is her head. They wouldn't leave her behind, and their home has decidedly not been safe since the incident; they carry her with them everywhere, hiding in misty places and masquerading as a large tree.

Day 3: Storm — I defaulted to scenic, because design on the word storm alone, I was really struggling with. Have a storm drake-like thing. ^^' I created pale yellow glows that shone through and lit up surrounding foliage as it stalks and prepares to attack something. I also let the colors that come to mind with dark clouds and stormy nights take this thing over completely. Fun experiment. C'X

Day 4+5: Fossil+Hybrid — this doesn't bode well, having to combine to make up for lost days this early. >v<; Here, though, have the unholy spawn of anatomically-somewhat-accurate Aerodactyl and the proportions and vibe of an Azhdarchid. I adore these pterosaurs on an aesthetic and imaginative level... would just about wet myself in fear if faced with one. Maybe someday I'll come back to prompts like this and actually put some respectable time into posing and rendering, but for now, just quick ideas for fun. :3

Day 6: Mist — WHOOPS, I missed one - adding this one in belatedly, but it was done on time... might have overlooked this because it really was thrown together in a hurry, and highly self-indulgent. Like, more than most of these. ^^' Have a cotton ball mass of dragon that curiously rolls up on little towns at pre-sunrise hours, especially at the base of mountains. It's a lazy and harmless enough creature, but it has a way of scaring little ones sh*tless, just the same. The sun rays coming through don't hurt it, luckily, but it does add to the "be not afraid" vibes. X'D

Day 7: Striped —Along with nostalgic inspiration of a friend's character, I based this one on a Cheshire Cat vibe, spiraling shapes vaguely snuck in. I'm still having much too much fun with the rough wash brush... but that's what I've decided to do this whole month, is have fun. ^^ Hopefully you're having a nice day!

Each week will be a different post, since the 30 image limit leaves us just shy of fitting the challenge into one post. >v<; See Week 2, if you like! (or Week 3, or 4, for that matter!)

[fodlansbestmom]

@jayboo565

I love that you gave Sothis a darker skin tone than in-game, (plus i think freckles!) idk it just makes her color scheme "pop" more. I just love her! Any details for a newcomer to your blog about your version of Sothis?

thank you! I thought it was kind of a risky move changing Sothis much as I had but no one seemed to complain, but instead compliment??

I honestly could write a whole 60 page report about my version of Sothis: every single detail, every headcanon, all her powers and relationships. I’m so devoted to this dragon lady it’s unreal.

But I’ll try to give a little recap or just some basics! Firstly Sothis is not the awful ghost how the devs portrayed her, like how does that work?? She has her own body, she came back on her own like all (Greek) gods do. Her blood is gold/ichor. Her voice is changed to Caitlyn Glass (think more so Hannah from black butler but with a Greek accent instead).

Sothis has a flower bow and matching arrows and a vine whip that after her death was kept under lock and key by her children. Her powers go so much further than just whatever time is displayed in game. Create tears (think Elizabeth from bioshock infinite), anything plant related: grow any foliage or crops out of anything, for example.

when Sothis and Byleth Are put into the void thing during that one battle, Sothis does give some energy/magic to Byleth so they can get out (she’s still weak on her own but with Byleth’s help they can get out) and they do. Byleth does -not- turn green!!! Anyway. Once the professor goes MIA, the same time Sothis gets captured by the Agarthans. Over the five year skip she gets tortured, experimented on, blinded. Just overall very very bad experience so when it’s war phase, she’s incredibly injured but still there. And wearing white! With a Rapunzel braid.

Sothis has a very intense relationship with Nemesis. It was toxic and abusive however, and the base for most of her trauma. Plus he is Seteth’s father, he’s the only (current) Nabatean who is a Demi god. And Rhea was her first baby!!! A literal god just like her mama (I tried to follow the origins of Greek mythology, as I base Sothis on)

Her skin temp is 110 degrees and her resting pulse is 120. She suffers from mild to severe migraines depending on how many people are praying as she can hear every one. Theres sooooo much more but this is all I have time for. If you have any questions or wanna know more of a topic, lemme know and I’ll write about it!

[now-we-say-c0ral]

June 12, 2023

Woke up early today for some reason despite being on holiday because a certain boyfriend's body clock is so used to waking up early. Had a steamy morning cuddle and went for breakfast in the mess hall of the hotel. I don't know why but breakfast and the food, like, in general,is kind of underwhelming here for me. I tried many things in the breakfast buffet, finished my plate but the only thing that I liked was the omelet which wasn't that good. The stay so far was exquisite, just the food in general was underwhelming.

We planned to paraglide in the afternoon chasing the sunset so that was around 5.30pm and we had nothing to do the whole day before that so we just lounged in the pool area. I tried to teach Eddie how to swim in preparation for the scuba diving tomorrow. He's not very good. He's an earthbender and I'ma waterbender, he says. It kind of feels empowering that I'm better at him at swimming because he brought me rock climbing twice and I was horrible at that. Sweaty hands. I tried to do a few laps in the pool but could only do two laps at most. I could do 50 laps nonstop before but after months of not swimming I guess my endurance went back to zero. That's a sad reality for me but I could still tell that my form was still good.

I wrote my journal the whole day for the days that I missed while Ed did his diary. We ordered some drinks and pizza which were delicious. I just watched some Instagram reels and some Youtube to pass the time.

We went back to the room around 3pm and cuddled. We took a shower and waited for the service to take us to base.

The journey up Mt. Babadag, which literally translates to 'Father Mountain' was a beautiful one. The sun was shining so gloriously lighting up the foliage of the terrain. Reaching the top, we were enveloped in the clouds and it was such a new feeling being able to reach the normally unreachable. Ur, my paragliding tandem, did his best in accommodating me. This was my first time paragliding. Being lifted by the gust and seeing Fethiye and Oludeniz up in the air was an experience that I'll forever keep. Being able to see the beauty of the beach side and the lagoon was one for the books. He even let me control the pulleys to maneuver the paraglide.

We went to the beach side after to take some photos taking advantage of the sunset lighting. I taught Ed how to take cute pictures of me which he passed with flying colors. We had dinner by a restaurant near the beach. I ordered the creamy mushroom chicken and we had a shisha. It was quite the evening. I'm comfortable now with Eddie whenever we don't talk over doing something. It's a comforting silence now. It's not awkward or a deafening kind of silence, it's a welcome one.

We retired in the night talking about how great of an experience we had this day.

[bobbinacrosstheequator]

March 26, 2023 Osa Peninsula, Costa Rica

Part Two begins. Much as the beds on the Passion were quite comfortable, each having a comfy queen bed overstocked with pillows for our abbreviated night at the Doubletree sure felt luxurious! The night was indeed short, but still refreshing. The hotel had a breakfast buffet which was not as good as the Passion’s food, but filled our bellies. After shuffling belongings between duffels, carry-ons and “personal items” to meet the weight limits of the little 12-seater we were about to board, our driver met us and dropped us at the little domestic terminal of the airport. So easy! The flight gave us great view of the sea and coast to the right and mountains and towns to the left. Ahhh, the excitement builds…

On approach to the Osa Peninsula and after landing, it was abundantly clear that we’ve traded scruffy shrubs and lava for lush foliage and bright colored flowers. It’s considerably cooler here, and wonderfully comfortable. A young driver was at the airport to meet us (low key here, no need for a sign with our names), and took us the 20-minute drive to Drake Bay. Marginal dirt roads still got us safely to the beach where we had a wet boarding on the boat to Copa de Arbol. We passed beautiful beaches, a few people snorkeling or wandering on the shore, but the coast is very natural without a hint of over-building! Pura Vida! A greeter, Jerson, met us at the beach when we disembarked (another wet one), walked us up to the resort (stopping to see our first sloth in the trees) and showed us around. Ten cottages are each tucked away in the trees for privacy; there’s a gorgeous, tiered infinity pool; all connected with natural paths. Some of the “resorts” along the the road to Drake Bay were a little sketchy. We are very pleased that the Copa, and our private thatched roof (which later proved to be faux thatch), two-level air-conditioned cottage is well and far above those places. ‘Gotta love decadence!

While we waited a short 45ish minutes or so for the staff to finish prepping our cottage, we explored a bit. A public trail passes between the resort and the beach, and is our access point to various beaches or to head to town. When we got access, our room was set up with fresh blossoms all over: on the tables, beds, toilet, sink and bath mat – even on the garbage can. It was lovely to relax, get settled, pull out some laundry to have done (rather than more self cleaning, rinsing and wringing!). We each have space to spread out and can each see the water through the trees from our beds. It feels like being in an exotic tree house. The nice bed from the Doubletree hotel: left in the dust!!!

Lunch was delightful with a stunning view of the sea. We had our next wildlife experience with real life toucans. Amazingly beautiful birds! We got our first taste of the routine here: at lunch they take dinner orders, and at breakfast, lunch orders. Assuredly, given the Copa is quite remote with supplies brought in by boat, this allows them to preserve resources and not over-prepare one thing over the other, as well as make sure every guest gets their preference. We considered an activity this afternoon, but decided an afternoon of relaxation sounded nice. Off to the pool we went. We claimed two lounge chairs on the shady side, and went in. Wonderfully relaxing. Seb got out, hopped onto one of the chairs and proceeded to take a good long nap; Jill stayed in a while and did a bit of uploading from the lounge chair. We’re happy to have internet here, but it can be a little flakey, so photo uploading that might be simple at home might take 3 or 4 tries here. But we persist; can’t disappoint our “fans.”

4:00-5:00PM is hora feliz. How can a person turn that down when on offer are frozen strawberry daiquiris? We sat at the bar and were totally entertained by Mario, the bartender, who told us about “his” Sarah, showed us photos and even brought her up on video chat. What a hoot!

We had an early dinner so as to be on time for our night walk. Antony was our guide. Of Costa Rican/Belgian descent, he was born in Costa Rica , raised in Belgium, and returned here first as a snorkeling guide, then he branched out. Despite no formal conservation or biology schooling, he has studied up and is amazingly knowledgeable to augment his keen skills of observation, spotting the various creatures in the jungle and navigating the terrain. Each with flashlights (two other guests accompanied us), we set off in blue rubber boots so heat-seeking venomous snakes wouldn’t detect us! We saw snakes, frogs/toads, tadpoles, bugs, bats, ants (fascinating ones marching in a long row carrying pieces of leaf), crabs (yes, crabs in the jungle), spiders (including a golden orb spider with a magnificent web), a couple of sloths and lizards. At one point, Antony had us turn off all of the flashlights. It was total darkness. If one looked up, there were tiny pieces of moonlit sky visible, but none (and we mean NONE) of that tiny bit of light made it down to the path we were walking. A fascinating walk. On return, the gate to the Copa was closed. Not a problem… it was just two bamboo poles across the entrance. Antony moved the with ease. We went to our lovely cottage (room) and crashed.

[gender-buddies]

Phase Three Artist Commentary

Yep, here we go again! Phase Three is finished and now I want to talk about the inspirations and thoughts on all the Buddies released for this phase. Check it out under the cut!

Girl and Boy: Yes, I am going to put these two together because they work as a pair and are inspired by the same things. I avoided designing these for the longest time because I needed something that would be unique, make sense color-wise, and NOT just be a pink girl critter and a blue boy critter. I wanted no assumptions, nobody who would take a look and say "Yep, that's a girl alright." So I started looking at animals that have the ability to change sex, because that is a common narrative for boys and girls - a lot of them are assigned those genders at birth but then discover they were something else. The entire Gastropod class is composed of snails, slugs, nudibranchs, and others that can change sex. I decided I liked the idea of having a sea hare or sea bunny as the basis, with some nudibranch-like details. Sort of a mix of animals. While they are related to snails, and Nonbinary was a snail, I made them anything but Water types because they needed to be different. I didn't incorporate anything that could be conveyed as "masculine" or "feminine" and I specifically avoided using too much blue and pink. I think a small cool-colored Buddy and a larger warm-colored Buddy was a good way to balance the two. I'm proud of these ones!

Fluidflux: I try not to make too many fluid identities into Water types or any kind of aquatic animal, but I really liked the idea of an eel that was both flowy and spiky. The face is probably my favorite part. The pattern flows and fluctuates between spots and stripes much like gender can flow and fluctuate. This design uses inspiration from dragons, ribbon eels, dragon eels, and fire eels - and it's the only common Buddy so far to have two elements!

Trigender: Since Pokemon decided to release a mutli-headed hot pepper plant design, I couldn't convince myself that my three-headed hot pepper Buddy would be a good idea. I wanted to design something that came in three parts, and I liked the idea of three inseparable animals. Capybaras are known for hanging out with other animals and I thought birds would be cute - both water birds, a kingfisher and a duck. Trigender is not the capybara nor either of the birds, but is the entire group together. Normally I would avoid going masc or fem for multigender identities but for this one, I like the feminine look of the capybara.

Autigender: A mud puppy, pretty much! I wanted an animal that felt like it properly represents the autistic experience, and I think a dog fits really well. Having it covered in mud from running around and playing also seems to fit because it shows excitability and hyperactivity, maybe even an unawareness or lack of care about getting dirty. I had a lot of fun showing movement by giving it a dynamic pose and having the mud flying off of it. Also there's totally an error with the highlighting, on the front paw in the foreground.

Genderpunk: I think it's pretty punk for a fox to act like a wolf. I sketched this as a wolf originally and then tried to change it to an animal that normally comes from a hot climate, but is an Ice element. I stuck with the wolf idea until it was time to do the line art, and I made the last-minute decision to make it a fox that happened to act and look like a wolf. Skulls are pretty punk, so I gave it a wolf skull to wear.

Genderflor: The entire group of these genders - Genderfae, Genderfaun, and Genderflor have turned out great so far and this one is no exception. The original idea was some kind of little pixie-like creature based on a bumble bee, but I wanted it to be surprising just like the others. I thought of animals representing nature, like the World Turtle with trees on its back, and I thought a big dinosaur covered in foliage would be cool. A gentle giant is perfect to represent nature.

Nanogender: A Buddy based on an isopod of course. So far, this one was the second-easiest to draw (Agender was the first) and I like how it turned out because of its simplicity. I wanted something small because of the "nano" part of the label, but I also made it an electronic critter based on the same word. It was originally just a sleek little robot with glowing spots and I added the wheels and wind-up key last minute. I wish I'd done more for highlighting though.

Xenine: Originally this would have been a phoenix with star-shaped patterns on it, but I'm going to use the fiery flying animal idea for other Buddies. This one was changed to be based on the Cetus constellation, which looks like a sea monster. I wasn't sure what to do with the fin down its back until I was ready to add color, and thought a starry galaxy would look cool. I kept the Stellar element even though this one would work well as a Cosmic type too, mostly because it's based on a constellation.

Cenrell and Faesari: I'm putting these two together because they go together. I knew right away that one would be Shadow and one would be Light, and then started thinking of how that could be portrayed. Something hiding in the shadows, something protecting the other. The original plan was a clam and a pearl, and then I wanted the pearl to be a frilly little fish to give it a more feminine look. Then I realized that pea crabs are what you would find living in a clamshell, so I decided Faesari would be a pea crab. As for Cenrell, the clam design just didn't look good when I sketched it out. Instead, I went with a pelican, where the mouth was sort of a clamshell in shape. I thought it was really neat to put Faesari in the artwork for Cenrell as a little easter egg. Pea crabs have markings that could look a little bit like a heart if you look at it the right way, so I put a heart on it and made it very cutesy. Both of these Buddies were a good way for me to introduce simple designs at higher levels, instead of making every level 4 Buddy so complex.

Gender Disobedient: This one breaks convention in a number of ways to highlight the disobedient nature of the identity. It's a snake that can fly and it's made up of different animal parts to make it more like a chimera. It also doesn't match the colors of the flag it's based on and instead, I came up with my own colors. It originally was just a big draconic snake with claws and feathered wings, but I had a lot of trouble making the hands look good. I tried paws instead and it came out a lot better! The flames on the head and tail were added just as I was ready to save the final image because it looked more interesting, but the first version would have had a crest of feathers on the head and feathers on the tail tip.

All in all, phase three took a lot of work, but I think it was worth it. The Buddy designs are gradually becoming more details and high-concept, incorporating a lot of themes that better fit the identities now than they did in Phase One. I'm looking forward to posting more of my design ideas in the near future! Phase Four will introduce a new element never seen before.

- 💜

[windfallgardenschenleyfarms]

Japanese Maple Propagation by Hardwood Cuttings 

Culture and Propagation of Japanese Maple

Guy Phillips

Professional Paper submitted to the Faculty of the Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Forestry

As mentioned previously, hardwood cuttings are those that are taken during the dormant season. For a deciduous species such as Japanese maple, this means that the cutting is merely a stick with some dormant buds that is stuck in a suitable medium. The lack of foliage allows a propagator to forget the worrisome balance between keeping leaf surfaces evenly moist while at the same time maintaining the medium at a state not too moist, and well aerated. For hardwood cuttings, bottom heat is recommended, but air temperatures can remain cool, ideally below the 15.5oC (60oF) range, especially at night. These environmental factors – no misting, moderate bottom heat, and little to no air heat result in a very economically efficient way to propagate. The fact that dormant cuttings are taken during the time of year when nursery activity is all but dormant too, means another kind of economy and efficiency is achieved as well: the economy and efficiency of time. One paper from the annals of the Combined Proceedings of the International Plant Propagator's Society stood almost alone on this subject. I include a summary of it here because I consider the notion of hardwood cuttings of Japanese maple to be of unrealized merit. 

The experiment with hardwood cuttings was begun due to a surplus of grafting scion material. The greatest success has been had with Acer palmatum 'Atropurpureum' varieties. This is the name commonly given to Japanese maples that have red colored leaves of varying shades and retain this trait, in varying degrees, when propagated from seed. Successful rooting and survival of this variety has been between 60 – 70%. However, experiments with the dissected leaf varieties have proven more challenging, as is common for these same types when propagated by softwood cuttings. Success is often as low as 25% (Carville, 1975). 

Cuttings were taken from field stock plants during the first week of January (Rhode Island). Material was between 4.8 - 9.5 mm (3/16 – 3/8 inch) thickness; possessing 2 –3 nodes. The previous season’s growth is taken, ideally as thick as possible, 15 - 20 cm (6 –8 inches) long. Wounds were made, 2 on each cutting, 19 - 25 mm (3/4 - 1 inch) long. Many hormonal solutions have been tried and Jiffy Grow TM was found to be the best. (10 second dip; 29 mL (1 oz.) Jiffy GrowTM to 87 mL (3 oz.) water; Jiffy GrowTM is a mixture of IBA .5%, NAA .5%. boron .0175%, phenylmercuric acid .01%). Medium is a 2 parts peat / 1 part perlite. Medium was slightly firmed and watered; cuttings were stuck; all was watered again then “ignored”. The temperature of the medium was kept between 15.5 - 20oC (60 – 68 ̊F). Air temperatures were kept below 20oC (60 ̊F) at night; no mention of the daytime temperatures. “Excessive top heat and /or overwatering will lead to complete failure, thus my statement to the effect that the cuttings should be ignored. The medium should feel almost dry to the touch and at no time during the first 4 weeks should you be able to squeeze water from a handful of the mix (Carville, 1975, p. 40)" 

Roots appear in about 4 weeks (callus in 15 days). Vegetative buds will soon be swelling after roots have been observed. It is imperative not to overwater during this time. Roots will rot very easily at this point. Newly emerging leaves need shading. A mild fungicidal solution is thought to be helpful in controlling Botrytis fungal infection. By mid- March the rooted cuttings can be potted, perhaps planted into fields directly in milder climates. 3.77 - 7.5 L (1 – 2 gallon) potted plants can be expected to reach 30 - 38 cm (12 – 15 inches) tall by late August (Carville, 1975). 

Carville (1975) concludes by noting, “Unit cost of production is far less than that from softwood cuttings and is considerably less than that from graftage (p. 41).” Another advantage he mentions is that rooted hardwood cuttings are in “phase” with the normal spring time growing conditions and therefore no extra work nor fuss needs to be placed on the necessity of forcing growth before fall, as is the case with softwood cuttings (Carville, 1975). 

I found only one other article on the subject of hardwood cuttings of Japanese maple. A researcher in Poland used Acer palmatum var. atropurpureum (again, this name indicates generic red leaf Japanese maple) to test various times and temperatures of storage of hardwood material prior to sticking into pots of a 1:1 peat and sand medium. It was found that cuttings obtained in November, stored in plastic bags at 55.4 ̊F for 3 weeks and then stored at 35.6 ̊F for 6 weeks worked best. The researcher suggests that the storage period improves callus and root initiation so that the timing of root growth does not lag behind the development of bud break, once the cuttings are stuck (Marcinkowski, 1988). 

January 18, 2024 Nothing to lose trying to root these Red Cut Leaf Japanese Maples cuttings from a branch vandalized & broken off a once beautiful healthy potted tree at Oakland Ave. & Forbes in Oakland.

[taimio]

Conquering the Beetle Invasion: Effective Strategies for Beetle Control

Gardening can be a wonderful and rewarding experience, but it can also be frustrating when dealing with pesky bugs like beetles. Beetles can damage your plants, often making holes or eating the leaves, and they can also ruin your bounty of vegetables and fruits. The good news is that with a little bit of know-how, you can take control and effectively manage beetle populations in your garden. Keep reading to find out more about how to combat these unwelcome pests.

Hey there, Tumblr fam! Gather 'round as I introduce you to the quirky and oh-so-fascinating world of beetles. Yes, you read that right. Beetles. Those tiny yet mighty creatures that roam our gardens, invade our homes, and leave us scratching our heads and wondering, What on earth do we do with these little buggers?

The Beetle Conundrum

Ah, beetles. Those six-legged wonders that seem to have an uncanny ability to make their way into every nook and cranny of our lives. Whether you're battling an infestation or simply trying to coexist peacefully, dealing with beetles can be a real head-scratcher.

But fear not, my fellow beetle enthusiasts! I'm here to share some insightful, witty, and engaging tips on how to handle these little critters. So buckle up and get ready for an entomological adventure like no other!

Know Thy Enemy: The Beetle

Before we dive into the nitty-gritty of beetle wrangling, let's take a moment to appreciate these fascinating creatures. Did you know that there are over 350,000 known species of beetles? That's more than any other group of insects on the planet! Talk about diversity, right?

From the dazzling iridescence of the jewel beetle to the intricate patterns adorning the elytra of ladybugs, beetles come in all shapes, sizes, and colors. Not to mention, they play crucial roles in our ecosystems as pollinators, decomposers, and even as a vital part of the food chain.

Now that we have a newfound appreciation for beetles, let's move on to the burning question: How do we deal with them when they become a bit too much to handle?

Beetle Battle Strategies

1. Prevention is Key

As the old saying goes, An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. And when it comes to beetles, truer words were never spoken. To keep these little invaders at bay, here are a few preventive measures you can take:

Seal cracks and crevices: Beetles are masters of infiltration, so make sure to seal up any potential entry points into your home, such as gaps around windows, doors, and utility lines.

Store food properly: Keep your pantry free of beetle feasts by storing dry goods like flour, rice, and cereal in airtight containers.

Keep a tidy garden: Remove dead plant matter, trim overgrown foliage, and clear away any standing water to discourage beetles from setting up camp in your backyard.

2. Natural Remedies

When beetles persist despite your best preventive efforts, it's time to bring out the big guns – natural remedies! Here are a few tried-and-true methods to give those beetles a run for their money:

Neem oil: This natural insecticide derived from the neem tree is a beetle's worst nightmare. Dilute it with water and spray it on plants or directly on the beetles themselves.

Beneficial insects: Fight fire with fire, or in this case, beetles with beetles! Introduce predatory insects like ladybugs or ground beetles to your garden, and let nature take care of the rest.

Beer traps: Yes, you heard me right. Beetles have a weakness for beer, so set up some shallow dishes filled with the hoppy elixir to lure them away from your prized plants.

3. Seek Professional Help

If your beetle battles become a full-blown war and the natural remedies just aren't cutting it, it may be time to call in the professionals. Pest control experts have a plethora of tools and techniques up their sleeves to tackle even the most persistent beetle infestations.

Just remember, prevention and eco-friendly methods are always the way to go. But when all else fails, don't hesitate to seek assistance from those who know the ins and outs of beetle warfare.

Embracing the Beetles

When it comes down to it, beetles are an integral part of our world, whether we like it or not. Instead of viewing them as nuisances, we can choose to embrace their presence and learn from their remarkable adaptations and behaviors.

So next time you spot a beetle scurrying across your countertop or meandering through your garden, take a moment to appreciate their resilience and beauty. And if you're feeling particularly brave, maybe even offer them a tiny salute for their contribution to the intricate tapestry of life.

Conclusion

In the grand scheme of things, dealing with beetles is just another part of the wild ride we call life. By understanding their habits, implementing preventive measures, and resorting to eco-friendly remedies, we can coexist peacefully with our six-legged friends.

Remember, beetles may be small, but they are mighty. So let's tip our imaginary hats to these fascinating creatures and embrace the wonders they bring to our world – even if that means occasionally shooing them out of our homes or gardens.

That's all for today's entomological adventure, folks! Stay curious, stay beetle-aware, and until next time, happy bug hunting!

Learn more about gardening with Taim.io!

[lotus-pear]

lunch break~

[comicaurora]

Heyo, it's the fool who wants to make a comic with zero experience in drawing or finishing stories again. A lot of people, including you, I think, mentioned that "Your first work will be bad". Any tips how…not to do that? I don't expect it to be a magnum opus or smth, but I at least want to make something people would genuinely unironically enjoy, and "first story is always not good" notion everywhere is very discouraging

It's not like I never tried anything creative ever, but this is my first attempt of putting it down on paper with intention of completing it, instead of having vague ideas of "I know what would be so cool when I make it a thing" in my head for months without acting upon any of these ideas

It's definitely a disheartening adage, even if it's supposed to take the pressure off young creators.

Unfortunately, no matter how good your starting point gets - and you can get it very good, don't get me wrong - you are still going to find it unbearably bad when you look back on it with experienced eyes. You might eventually circle back around to finding it impressive, considering it was your absolute first starting point and you had no experience, but you still won't be able to see its merit the way your audience will.

The thing is, your first project is going to teach you a lot of things you couldn't have known you needed to learn beforehand. This means everything you make after learning those things is going to be smoother in process and better in result. There's also just the fact that the more you do this sort of thing the more practiced you'll get at the mechanical side of it, making it faster and easier for you and leaving you with more energy to punch things up. Compare the Big Fight Scene from chapter 3 with the one from chapter 17 in terms of visual complexity:

Particle effects, ambient glow, soft lighting, atmospheric depth, metallic effects, light and shadow. The seeds of these ideas are present in the earlier shot, but executed in a much clumsier way. Fourteen chapters of gradually increasing complexity and just raw practice got me to the point where drawing that second panel was fun rather than exhausting. If I'd tried that in the first chapter I would've probably been so worn out just trying to finish the lineart that the quality of the rest of the image would've suffered from sheer exhaustion.

And even before that, those first chapters only flowed as well as they did because I'd been drawing hundreds and hundreds of video frames for years at this point, which had gotten my lineart muscle memory polished enough that I wasn't agonizing over every single stroke.

I was absolutely determined to start this comic off at the best level of quality I could, and that determination kept me kicking the can down the road for a decade. I think this was a good thing; if I'd started it any earlier I think I would've been a slow enough learner that the quality increase over those first few chapters wouldn't have been as steep as it was. And that first chapter was as good as I could've made it at the time; I didn't take any shortcuts or laze around, and I used every skill I'd learned over the previous decade of physical and digital art. Of course, if I knew then what I knew now there's loads of stuff I'd have changed about the way I handled the intro. In fact, I'm going to break my One Rule about "never going back or redoing things" and I'm going to walk you all through chapter 1 and what I would change/fix if I was drawing it now.

Remove the outline on the background mountains, add color variance to the further mountains so they appear farther in the background, un-muddy the color of the sky and make those clouds a little more impressive; this could've looked like a full glorious noonday sun. The forest was drawn with an experimental brush I'd created for foliage that I ended up deciding didn't produce the effect I wanted; I'd probably go through and use the technique I developed for Gleicann's forest to cel shade blocks of foliage.

Add at least the bare hint of buildings behind the sword pedestal - just gradient outlines would be fine, similar to the extended backgrounds in Zuurith. Also slap some blue cinder-y particle effects coming up off the sword. Clean up the shading layer so there aren't as many holes. Add metallic shine to the blade and marbling/stone texture to the pedestal.

Un-muddy the colors on this background; they match The Collector's color palette but that matters less than looking nice. The background needs something - speed lines, the implication of foliage - etc. The poses could also be more dynamic and drawn with more confidence. To show the power behind the blows, re-choreographs the fight to show more of the damage it does to the environment - the sword carving through rocks, ploughing furrows into the ground, starting to spark with starfire, etc.

Same problem with the foliage; the special brush adds too much detail, drawing the eye away from the important parts of the scene, and the colors are muddy to cover that up. Brighter greens and cel-shaded layers would produce the effect I actually wanted and be faster than hand-drawing every treetrunk and then shading them so they're indistinguishable anyway. Also, more intense shading on the foreground figure - a neutral tan shadow layer is functional, but it could look a lot more dramatic, and he's shaded much more lightly than the extremely muddied background is.

Of course, "if I knew then what I know now" is a meaningless turn of phrase. I needed to draw these pages this way in order to learn what I know now. If I had jumped straight into the shortcuts I've painstakingly developed without having had that intervening practice, the end result would've been just as bad - if not worse, because it would've been executed shakily, without the confidence that accompanies muscle memory. The techniques I used in this first chapter had served me well up til that point. The techniques I use now were built on these foundations. Lamenting that I could've done it better if I'd started now is like saying the pyramids would be so much taller if they'd laid the foundations at the top part instead.

There's a degree to which this work is sisyphusian. You do your best, you push yourself, and then your "best" gets better. At some point you have to accept that what was your best is still okay, even if you can't see it that way.

When I was working on this comic in the pre-actually-drawing-it years, I came to a realization that helped me get unstuck: "good enough" is a mask that "perfect" wears. Striving for perfection is a pointless task, and this is pretty well known, but it seems a lot more reasonable to just try to get "good enough" at art to guarantee that your work will be good enough. But if you unpack that concept, you likely find that your definition of "good enough" is basically "without flaws." Which is "perfect." Which is, as mentioned, unattainable. Those pages are as good as I could've possibly made them at the time, and they aren't perfect, and I never thought they were perfect, because I knew if I waited for them to be perfect in my eyes I'd never make them. I just had to grit my teeth, make them public and hope that people got something out of them that I couldn't.

There is a baseline level of artistic skill and preparation that I do recommend cultivating - figure and life drawing, anatomy studies, landscapes, reading Scott McCloud's "Understanding Comics" cover to cover - but there is no hardline starting point at which you are guaranteed to be good enough to make the story and art good. This is because "good" is subjective, and as long as you are improving as an artist, your own perspective on your old work will never be that it is "good." You have to trust that the audience that likes your story likes it for their own valid reasons.

The thing is, I know this is a bummer. This whole thing is a bummer perspective. Artists want to make good art and the nature of artistic creation is being unable to see your own art as good for long. If you believe that your art must be a certain baseline level of Good to be worthy of existing, this truth seems to be a condemnation to an eternal and pointless purgatorial struggle.

The most valuable skill an artist can develop at this stage is strangling that insecurity with their bare hands.

Trust your audience! Trust that they enjoy what they enjoy, and trust that they see something in your art, even if all you can see are the critiques you'd use to polish it! "Perfect" and "good enough" will tell you that your creation will always be hideously unlovable and must be hidden from scrutiny until it's "ready", but like all insecurities, underpinning this is the axiom that anyone who likes you or your work is lying. Strangle this falsehood, trust freely and openly that your audience is being honest with you, and while you work to improve on the creation side of things, trust that in the eyes of the people who like your work, it is Good Enough.