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[gteceducationinstitute]

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[pikslasrce]

im going to do it for real this time (drop out and get a job)

#my bro got himself a job at some idk tech startup that works w u.s. moving companies and theyre still hiring so im thinking like #what the hell ill give it a shot id have to get training first anyways so if i dont like it ill just say 'this isnt for me buh bye' #and i mean. i could always quit after a few months etc. but uni?? im quitting that shit for good i am NOT coming back... #ill just wait till october and then just. not enroll for the next year.. #which also gives me time to use the lovely student benefits (health insurance) before i drop out... #ive been putting off making those appointments so like. best to take advantage of it while i still can #and also the plan is to take a graphic design course or sth so i can have at least an online certificate or sth for employability #so if all else fails im going into graphic design and illustration NOT CLICKBAIT. hopefully some ppl i know could even get me into somewher #hashtag networking pays off #piksla.txt

[designingmarketinghub]

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[prismmultimedia]

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[mamtablogs]

Hey guys, Are you graduated and now are you wiling to make your career in graphic designing? Yes! then learn graphic design courses at graphic design institute in Delhi. 

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[hotyanderedaddies]

Yandere Werewolf Boyfriend with a Playful Darling Who Teases Him

[Yandere! Werewolf x GN Playful! Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

You first met your boyfriend, Alaric, about a year ago when you started attending the local community college. You were working on your Veterinary Assistant Certification, while he was there getting some general education requirements out of the way.

It was love at first sight--

Well, on Alaric's end.

The exact millisecond his eyes landed on you, he knew that you were meant to be his, and his alone. Hence, he immediately began to follow you around campus, trying to learn more about you so that he could begin to court you.

When he found out that you wanted to be a veterinary assistant because of your love for animals, he felt like he had an ace in the hole given his werewolf status.

You love animals, and he's technically an animal; therefore, you were bound to love him (it made sense in his head).

He mustered up the courage to ask you out on a date, to which you surprisingly said "Yes".

Alaric took you to a nice restaurant and then took you to see the monster movie you'd been wanting to see for a while... you thought that it was serendipitous how this cute guy seemed to know where you loved to eat and just what genre of films you loved.

As the night was coming close to an end, Alaric decided to use the big guns, and he revealed to you that he's a werewolf.

Of course you didn't believe it, thinking that he was joking, but then he phased into his wolf form, looking like an overgrown dog with fuzzy ears and big paws.

Alaric half-expected you to run, to scream, to be afraid of him. And he steeled his muscles, getting ready to chase you down if you dared tried to leave--

"Haha!" you giggled, surprising the werewolf. His eyes widened when you actually reached up with a tender hand and gave him a little scratch behind the ear. "Aww, such a good boy."

Alaric jerked back for a second, swallowing down a growl at the thought of being seen as some kind of puppy. He was a big, tough werewolf with enough strength to tear a human being to shreds, not some cute pup!

As time went on, Alaric of course was over the moon that you were now his, but he would sometimes get irked whenever you decided to playfully tease him.

You didn't do it to be mean, you genuinely thought that it was cute how you would ask your boyfriend if he wanted to go for walkies, and his face would get all red and he'd mutter that he wasn't a puppy under his breath.

...but he'd still go on a walk with you.

"You want some head pats?" you would laugh as you'd run your fingers through Alaric's hair.

Alaric would stifle a growl, but just silently glare at you until you'd stop laughing-- but he'd still expect those head pats.

One night, the two of you were cuddling on the couch, watching some trashy reality show when you couldn't resist.

A smirk already on your face, you placed a small hand on Alaric's muscled chest. "Does my big boy want a belly rub?" you chuckled, using the voice you used whenever you'd coo at puppies.

You loved it how red Alaric's face got, and he tried to avoid making direct eye contact with you. "Darling," he huffed in a controlled voice, "I told you, for the thousandth time, I am a man-eating werewolf. I'm not a puppy." To illustrate his point, he flashed his massive canine teeth and gestured down at his enormous paws that were capped with sharp claws.

You playfully stuck out your lower lip and ran your hand up and down his chest, noting how he winced and immediately melted into your touch.

"Aww, don't be like that," you cooed. "Who's my good boy?"

Alaric's blush deepened and you could clearly see his sweatpants start to tent.

When he didn't say anything, you retracted your hand, but froze when Alaric's arm shot out. He wrapped his fingers around your wrist and tugged it back down to his chest so you could give him more belly rubs.

"Me," Alaric blushed, "I'm a good boy."

#yandere boyfriend #werewolf #yandere boy #yandere werewolf #yandere x reader #yandere x you #obsessive love #possessive boyfriend

[davidstortebeker]

The Permaculture Spiral Garden - A Great Starting Point

There is probably no other structure as popular for illustrating Permaculture in practice as the Herb Spiral. Okay, I guess I could mention the lasagna sheetmulching method or also the cob oven that tends to be the first hands-on project at a typical Permie intro session. But when it comes to showing how landscape design, zones and sectors, stacking functions, and efficient use of space and water come together in one unique structure, the Spiral Garden is unbeatable.

Turning Theory into Practice

In typical Permaculture Designer Certificate courses, but even in brief intro weekends to Permaculture, there tends to be a lot of theoretical discussions. Since the numerous design principles can be applied to any climatic region, from the tropical to the subarctic, and on any scale from the humongous to the tiny, the practical aspects of the ideas can easily get lost. That's where a good hands-on application comes, where the participants get to move around rocks and dirt, while realizing how much it ties in to the concepts they've just discussed. This way the apparent "main purpose" of "building something to grow all your kitchen herbs on", becomes a neat side feature.

Adjust Your Landscape!

The first thing to realize that landscape is welcome to be modified and adjusted to bring out the best in it. Clearly, while it is important to work with what's there already, it doesn't hurt think about mounds and valleys. And before you bring out the excavators for your large-scale farm, it makes sense to start small… say on a circle of 2-5 meters (6-16 feet) diameter. In other words, the Spiral Garden is a hill with a spiral shaped surface, leading down to ground level, or further down into a water hole. It can be made out of rocks, bricks, concrete debris, or anything else you have lying around that can hold your soil.

Design According to Your Scale

Looking around for existing Herb Spirals it's easy to get confused. Some are so big you can actually climb on them (that is, you have to in order to reach what's growing on top). Others are so tiny that you may not even want to step on them. The question is: which size is the right one for you? Since this is something you will have to decide almost daily in Permaculture, it doesn't hurt starting out with this important question.

Organizing Your Spiral Garden

While there are seemingly endless types of Spiral Gardens, there are a few things they all have in common: They all start out with a region on the top, where water is bound to run off right away, leaving the soil relatively dry. This area is also the most exposed to the wind. Keep this in mind when choosing the plants that are going to live here. Ideally, the spiral should start sloping toward the East from here. Delicate plants that benefit greatly from the morning sun will appreciate this region. As the slope continues toward the South and West, it becomes more suitable for sun loving species. Finally, as the spiral reaches the ground level in the shady Northern part, it will be perfect for herbs that prefer less sun, more shade and more water, since the soil tends to be wetter here. (Note: This is for the Northern Hemisphere. In the Southern Hemisphere North and South are reversed.) To make full use of the runoff water, many people add a small pond at the base of the spiral, where additional aquatic plants, such as watercress, can be grown.

The given illustration offers a good number of herbs for a nicely diverse kitchen. Depending on what else you want in your Herb Spiral, you can add it in the most suitable region. Mint and lemon balm love the cooler, shady part with more water. Lemongrass is great in the sunny area, and tarragon and estragon prefer the dry top of the spiral. Of course, the idea is not limited to kitchen herbs. For maximalists, the same theory can work with a mountain you might want to terraform into a spiral farm. But right now I'd prefer to stay small scale.

Plenty of Benefits (That's Why It's Permaculture)

As explained above, the main purpose of the Spiral Garden is not only to increase your gardening area by making use of the vertical, but also to create diverse climatic conditions, which do make a difference on the smallest scale. But as Permaculture tends to be, there are many other benefits to it. The structure itself offers great habitat for numerous animals, such as frogs, salamanders, lizards, but also pollinating insects, and of course others that may not directly benefit us, but by feeding on others they all add to the stability of our ecosystem. The structure itself will suppress weeds and make use of material that you're not likely to use elsewhere. Finally, depending on the size and location, it will be an ideal place to grow all your kitchen herbs right where you can access them most easily.

Some Things to Keep in Mind

When building the structure, make sure it will contain the soil in a nice trough, slanting slightly inward. That way bits and pieces that fall off will roll towards the center, until contained by the main mound.

Make sure the slope is always nice and gradual, avoiding sudden drops where the water can rush down quickly, eroding the soil.

If you're going to walk on your spiral, include a separate walkway that won't compress good soil. Most importantly, it should be sturdy enough to provide stability and make access safe.

Don't forget that while the structure is important to keep the soil in place, it is the soil that you'll be growing plants in. So it should have a good depth of 20-50 cm (8-20 inches) throughout the entire spiral. This can be the trickiest part!

Apply your own observation to which plants do better in which parts of the spiral. Also, with time you will find many other plants growing in it that you didn't plant. Before removing them, consider how much they actually bother your herbs, and whether their benefits may not outweigh their drawbacks.

Go Out and Build Your Own!

I hope this brief overview got you inspired to go out and try building an Herb Spiral yourself! I would love to hear your experiences with it!

Sources: 1, 2, 3, 4

#permaculture #gardening #ecosystem #plants #garden #sustainability

[delicatebluebirdruins]

Lockwood and Co. show notes

the parts in different colours are important (link to part 2) and my thoughts on the first two books.

episode one

love the opening shots on their gear before we see them

his smirk. music in the kitchen is so nice.

the angry biscuit munch.

the only other person who calls Lucy "Luce" is Norrie I think.

I love how we get to see the past and care about Lucy leaving. (although I would have loved it if we had reference to Lucy's sisters as well there could be a huge age difference between the two or something)

So with Ghost Touch being a bigger deal in the show makes a lot of sense because it is a medical emergency and in the books we do see people die from this and of course people ending up in a coma makes it a little more interesting because coma and it could be explained by who has Talents? Joe explain yourself.

love the fail montage (funny thing I was reading Hollow Boy at this point and shoved my book pouch to the side to show Lockwood and sister picked it up and compared the illustration to show Lockwood and just wondered at it)

biscuit cronch and say hi to the skull. Love how gleeful George was about the gunshots

I love the way Ruby Stokes said "no" in response to the Beck question

Lucy wanna fight. tour music is great and i love the framed newspaper.

love the little skip at the bottom of the stairs

little smile over the unlocking of the door.

Lockwood's face when she asked him about the advert. love how earnest he is

Lockwoods fighting is so good. That picture frame is so well made

love the entire exchange of Lockwood taunting the ghost

hugs and jump

episode two

i love this bit floating inbetween bit

Lockwood's "my partner" and her reaction to calling him that is so funny (so is the nurses's)

I love the Annie theme

I love the argument.

the smile when he comes in "unicorns or rainbows" George internally is 100% going "oh Lucy yells at me but she's not going to yell at him"

"it's our USP" Earnest Lockwood is favourite

was the hand grab needed to wake Lockwood up?

I wanna set tour so bad

I love the fight... I love the little birds on the window

Goerge loves a mystery. Hand flex and smile. I love communing with Annie (lost in translation "my lord")

"by firing Lucy Carlyle" i love Lockwoods worry at Barnes asking to get rid of Lucy

amazing deduction no other possible person playing hamlet.

"you need a ladder" love this line

love this bonding session with George although the question "dreamed of coming to London with" feels like there should have been an interaction before?

George calling out Lockwood for naming Lucy in the news (and Lucy eavesdropping)

love the training session

Barnes is a little shit and I love him though something needed to be done to set this scene up better

I love this bit between Lockwood and Lucy its so well acted and i love the music

love this fight and swong (a forest by the cure) sword chains and umbrella

I love their reactions to revealing the necklace and the censorship.

episode three

i love the delivery of "see a man about a ghost"

why so intense an eye contact in the elevator? (sister is wondering where they found the silvertongue to get Lockwood out of the book whilst holding Hollow Boy again)

how loud are Lockwood and George yelling?

I want to know all about Ellie

missing scene: how they find their house after DEPRAC breaks in the door (+ what DEPRAC finds)

love the delivery of "looks like blood"

thoughts: should have put the screaming in the screaming staircase (the chanting works but when we hear the word screaming we think of screaming)

like that the both save her from the well

love the sparkles as the grenade goes down the well

the goggles are great. I love the show of Annie's ring flying through the air as her ghost emerges.

love Penelopes coat

and Lockwoods ring (sister: love George's sticky fingers when he gets displeased)

missing scene: when did the certificate come up? he mentioned it happend in the van but how would that have happened without Lucy noticing?

episode four

the glass on the side was that warm Ribena but you know no longer warm? who wrote the notes?

love the little fish thing in the kitchen

I adore this exchange and George's "you good Lockwood?"

"do you remember us carrying you?" always have this in my mind "to me to you to me to you" but I must wonder how they carried her there is a few stairs between the basement and the attic

again love this bit and hype up Lucy time.

Flo reference

where's the uniform? considering how annoying the three are good thing there is no way to identify them properly? or nah? also the discreet part will never not be hilarious

"no backbone" love that coming from the older man who can't see ghosts and has to rely on kids then to say that about them

Lockwood "I'll protect you" show (not sure where I was in the Hollow Boy at this point but "come off it Luce you know I'd die for you" pipeline)

the bone glass design is really nice. I love how taken aback Lockwood as seeing the bullet wound

Bickerstaff looking imposing was something they did well. and the music when Lucy springs to action (after having a startling realisation)

I love this bit with the skull how soft it says "oh you can hear me"

Love George and his delivery of "is it talking to you know?" is so funny.

missing moment: "would never bollock [lucy] like this" feels like there is a lot more context there

also imagine if at the end of the fight (just so Lockwood barely hears it) Lucy mutters to herself "should be used to people not listening to me" and it comes up much later (angst what can i say)

cosy quilt. and love this little moment of Lockwood approaching the landing door and touching it then nodding

this would have been a great time for her to bring up Jacobs/ her mum but Lockwood needed his moment to share a little of his pain as well so I'm not mad. also the focus on their hands is so cute.

"I'm not sure what i should" Lmao Lockwood

I wonder what George would have said if he were there?

How long was Barnes standing there and George being startled is so funny.

love this little contest between Bobby and George

I love Barnes telling the two groups to back each other up and in the last episode they finally do it

love the delivery of "walking appendix"

random funny thing: "not filling out more forms" why is that lockwood? hmm... also in the credits there are listings for the ghost performers but i didn't get a chance to properly look

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #george karim #if this is a ramble then i apologise i do that a lot #locklyle #eta the link for the first two books post #hopefully the one person who reblogged doesn't mind

[slaygentford]

i was with you until walter white has no origin story. umm yes he very much does. have u not seen breaking bad or does gray matter mean nothing to you

I just gasped out loud of course IT MEANS NOTHING TO ME. oh my god it literally means nothing to me boohoo sorry you can't shoulder your own burdens and misfortunes with grace oh my god I just thats so ravened into a future where I say this and then someone is like um actually brba is about how America is evil and obviously no one in your family has ever died of cancer and then I'll have to show my fathers death certificate so I dont get doxxed........... joking OR AM I no anyway so like, breaking bad imo is about how we all have these things happen to us, and when you think about it this kind of huge miss/regret is something everyone has once you reach middle age. like most of us are gonna have that and that's life. the point of brba is we all have an "origin story" it's just about if we choose to be fucking psychopaths about it or not yk. imo brba is a great character piece because it's taking what's genuinely a quintessential/inevitable crisis for an American (aging, sick, shit healthcare) and giving it to a remarkably average person who has just about all the same gripes and regrets of anyone, and then Walter is actually secretly fucking nuts. like if gray matter is Walts origin story then my origin story is xyz trauma but am EYE manslaughtering about it? no because I am not a dracula. tony has an abusive mother and she did a lot toward poisoning him but a lot of people have abusive moms. a TRUE origin story in this context of monstertalk is like, Erik phantom of the opera is horrifically scarred and was like locked in a cage for his entire childhood. that's utterly out of the norm of what happens to like, people. having a regret from a big missed opportunity when youre around 45 is incredibly normal. so in terms of monstertalk Walt doesn't have an origin story at all. but also gray matter doesn't illustrate what makes him evil it doesn't explain it it simply illuminates that he's prideful and like he literally SIGNS HIS OWN DEATH WARRANT at the end of gray matter because of his ego. again again again brba has nothing to do with origins. bcs is explicitly about origins but gray matter is a vehicle to tell us what Walt is going to keep doing until it kills him and people around him: putting his ego and his pride before every other single thing and person on earth

[cookiiemancer]

Hello! I was curious and wanted to ask, are you studying at school for animation or any tipe of art?? Your work it's very fluid and colorfull, I especially like the dynamics and cohesion when more than one character it's drawn at the same time, not to mention the way you simplify hands, i really love it all!

Thank you so much! ^^

The only certification I have is an Illustration diploma ( I think it is) from a 2 year course I completed like.... a decade ago. I also tried Fine Arts but it reaaaally wasn't for me.

So mainly I am self taught, expecially in animation.

#asks #<333

[modstin]

A Yuletide Carol, Stave 1: Bob Cratchit

A slightly tilted retelling of the Charles Dickens classic, featuring illustrations!

Before we can begin on this mutual enjoyment of fiction, it must be set out first and straight the fact of one Jacob Marley.

He's dead.

Jacob Marley, in fact, died almost a decade ago. Seven years, to the day where this story shall actually begin (which I promise will happen shortly). His death certificate was signed by the clergy that handled the funeral, and by his partner; Ebenezer Scrooge.

Ebenezer Scrooge, at the funeral, did have a few kind words for the man. “A fine businessman,” he said, “Intellectual and prudent. A man you could bend a horseshoe around, good for the money,” and so forth.  

If there was anything Ebenezer knew personally about the man, he did not show it. Scrooge knew he was dead, at the very least. Of course he would know that, he'd been partnered to him for many many years before his demise, and even found him sitting stone dead in the seat that would soon hold his assistant clark. 

But that was seven years ago. And Marley has been dead for those seven years. Mind you, this is not an uncommon state of affairs. I think you'll find most people are dead. Really, they're the majority. And it's a stain on democracy that we so rarely listen to them.

The fact that Marley is dead is important to come completely to terms with, as not doing so and pretending the opposite will make some of the further dreadful scenes I will relate to you quite confusing. It would be silly, after all, to react with such fear and horror to one's father entering the room, were you not Hamlet and your father been dead since before the play started. So yes, remember that fact, Jacob Marley is dead.

Another thing I must educate you on is the world you are about to enter. I assume you already have a firm grasp on the difference between fiction and reality, and thus I must explain that the story I am about to tell you is completely true. It really did happen.

It just happened to take place in a completely fictional world.

Unlike many fantasy novels, where you'll find a series of maps and factions and wars and a timeline and perhaps a 20 hour audiobook detailing the epic and admittedly napworthy lore of the backdrop and its strange and remarkably over thought ruleset governing how magic works, I feel it only necessary to bore you with the very basics.

It is a fantasy world, not unlike those you've seen in those fancy movies. You know the ones where the effects budgets quite outweigh tenfold the cost of living for all the homeless people sleeping outside the studio. Lack of budget notwithstanding, I'll try to make this just as entertaining as those, though with likely less sword fights and magic duels.

In this fantasy world, there is indeed magic. But like in real life, where we may be aware of Quicksand and Spike Pits and Giant Monstrous Lizards who would tower above even our finest war tanks... Rarely are these facts relevant to day-to-day activities, unless you happen to be a paleontologist. 

So the story that I'm going to tell you is terrific, even to the old fool it will be happening to. Don't think just because he lives in a world with dragons, that what he's going to experience is anywhere near his normal.

This world that I will be showing to you is called Mira. It is a world with blue oceans, green grass, many different types of animals, and very few of our modern conveniences. It also has a ring around it, like Saturn! It's very pretty.

Monsters and Magic aside, there will be times I use words one could mistrue as an insult. Let me shake those worries away now, when I refer to someone as a Goblin, that is quite a literal sentiment. They have green skin, a large nose, floppy ears, and enjoy living in little underground tunnels. None of the goblins in this story, however, do so, they live in apartments and little houses just like you and me. 

Note that species will be rarely relevant to this story, and anything breaking from the normal day to day life of your average hard working paleontologist that is relevant will be promptly explained to you. There will be, of course, provided illustrations, which should be illuminating if not entirely illogical.

Where should we begin... the beginning isn't good, I already told you the details of that. Jacob Marley, dead, you get it. Perhaps the present then. Yes, let's go with that.

The sun rose. It was perhaps the only thing it really did outside of being bright. Producing heat seemed to be low on its list of priorities this morning. For this was, of course, the Eve of Yule.

Yule, in certain parts of Mira, is celebrated as part of the Winter Solstice. It is the day of, in fact. The shortest day of the year, at least in the hemisphere we're concerned with for this story. Yule is preceded by Yule's Eve, which is itself preceded by about half a month of general worry and preparation known as Yuletide.

Yule may, in some sense, present parallels to certain festivals on Earth. This is intentional. Write what you know, after all. I may enlighten you to the specifics soon, but don't count on it. I'm not a very reliable narrator.

The light was intense, even with no heat backing it, as it got many chances to reflect on the surface of ice and snow throughout the streets of Amalen, capital city of the Melodic Empire (sometimes called just Melodia, to sound less boastful or challenging to nearby powers).

The rush of inward cold air was comparable to a ship sprouting a leak a few inches from your face. And it took many forceful pushes to get the door closed again. Not because of much wind, but because of the shaggy rug that Bob Cratchit had gotten second hand from one of his cousins.

"Phew!" Cratchitt muttered, patting the frost of the outdoors off of his furred rabbitish face (And I do mean this literally, remember what I said earlier please). He adjusted his coat as his wife approached, holding a few pieces of forlorn clothing.

"Your scarf dear."

"Ah, yes."

"And your hat, dear."

"Of course, what would I do without you-"

"And your pants. Dear."

Bob Cratchit adjusted his stance a bit and lifted one of his feet to pop it into the short set of trousers. Wearing pants was a bit more optional for some folk on Mira, what with modest fur coverings, but on a day like today, freezing some important bits of yourself off would be a consequence.

Emily Cratchit patted down her husband's clothing to straighten it out after tying his scarf about his neck. Emily, in point of fact, was not very rabbit-like. Rather, she was a goblin. Not very plump like they often are, but with long hair and dark green speckles of freckles. It was thanks to her being a goblin and having such a height as one that she didn't have to kneel or stand on tiptoes to kiss Bob, "Now, you’re to have a fine day, and you're to ask Scrooge for a raise like we talked about last night." She stated it as a fact rather than a question or suggestion.

Bob had a few starts as he faced down the oncoming carriage, and decided to try to risk going between the wheels, "Darling, it's... well, you know its a bit more complex than-"

"Robert Cratchit!" Bob realized far too late that before there was the carriage, there was also the horse to worry about, "You cannot keep apologizing for that old man's miserliness! I won't have it any longer! You work so much overtime for that old fool and have nothing to show for it!" Emily pressed forward, and shook her finger in her husband's face, "We need more money here!"

"I know, dear-" Bob placated.

"Not just for Timothy, Aude knows he needs it, but..." She placed her hand against her stomach, perhaps unconsciously.

Bob did the same, putting his palm on top of the back of her hand and getting close. A warm atmosphere of love pressed outwards, a foggy kind of dream that Bob felt he was lost in whenever he looked into his wife's eyes. Even after these years, and the many struggles to make it from one to the next. "I promise... I'll ask."

"Thank you, dear." Emily said, leaning forward and embracing him. After the short hug, she let go and shoved him towards the door, "Well, get a move on. I must get started on tomorrow's dinner."

At the best of times, and despite himself, Bob sometimes found his wife's cooking questionable, but this was downright interrogative, "You're starting tomorrow's dinner this morning?"

"You deal with numbers and old fools," Emily said, "And I'll deal with the cooking. Understood?"

Bob had no willingness to get in front of another carriage nor horse this morning, "Yes dear. I'll see you this evening!" He smiled and took his hat in both hands, lifting it and popping it right onto his head! It looked a bit like one of those drawings in fairytales, where a rabbit wore a silly tophat with its ears sticking out. Like an upside down outcome of a backwards magician's act. But it was warm, and that's what counted.

He stepped out of his home. It was a two story structure, but built very thin, and the stories were rather stout anyway, since it was made for goblins and munchkins like Emily and Bob. Half the Size doesn't necessarily mean Half the Living Space, but Half the Budget often does.

Bob bounced along as bunnies tend to do, and headed down the street so as to not be late to work at Scrooge and Marley's.

As Bob Cratchit dodged a slow rolling cart, making his way across frosted cobbles and snowdrifts from the previous night's meteorological efforts, he was caught by the sudden warmth of a window, bringing with it the sweet scent of freshly baked bread.

"Bonjour Monsieur Cratchit!" Said the fat man who leaned out the window Bob had been crossing under.

Melodic was Bob's first language, but he had become too used to speaking Merchant's Tongue, a favorite of metropolitan Melodians. However, Jean Paris the baker often peppered the words into his natural dialect to keep conversation fresh as bread. "Oh! Bonjour Monsieur Paris." Bob nodded, keeping his paws tightly tucked into his pockets. "Baking for tomorrow?"

"Oui! I have a very special order, in fact!" Mr. Paris said, leaning on one arm out of "For Monsieur Scrooge and his big Yule party tomorrow!"

Bob stared at Mr. Paris, then looked down the street for a few moments. He was frozen in contemplation, the cold air having nothing to do with it. After hesitation, he turned his head, and with sudden exclamation, "Ebenezer Scrooge is hosting a Yule Party?" The complaint that Bob, Scrooge's single employee, had not been invited was at the back of the line in terms of questions and concerns to be filed immediately.

"What?! No no no!" The fat man began to laugh as he waved his hands frantically, "Ooh hoh hoh! If- If Ebenezer Scrooge-" He had to catch his breath, but kept laughing as he talked, "If Ebenezer Scrooge hosted a party! Why! He'd be selling the slices of ham by the millimeter! Hahaha! He'd be- There'd be a fee at the door! And you'd get a bill afterwards for air consumption in his house! Hahahaha!" The man chortled and laughed further on the mere idea that Ebenezer Scrooge would ever host anything beyond ill-will.

"Right..." Bob said, turning his eyes down to the sidewalk as he considered his boss for a moment...

Scrooge. What could be said about him?

Tight Fisted was a good phrase, though a more accurate turn of phrase would include words like 'locked' and 'glued' and 'cement encased'. A clamp upon money like an oyster on a pearl. Sharp as flint but never so generous as to give warmth to anyone without a percentage interest on the steel. Hard-set in his ways, a rut to and from his office.

A hobgoblin, with a wiry chin and sharp features, cold and cruel even for the generally stern folk that hobs tended to be. A permanent frown affixed to his over-wrinkled elderly face, fitted with a squint that could sour beer and a sneer that could curdle milk. All the better to glare down debtors from his desk.

He wouldn't step in a puddle to splash an orphan, merely because doing so would mean he'd have to pay to get his socks cleaned. Lo was there to be any child in his way, however. Were a blind man to be in Scrooge's path on his rounds, their guiding animal would pull them to an alley and refuse to move until the hob had passed. If the King himself were traveling with his retinue down a predetermined road, which just so happened to leave Scrooge's schedule out of its plans, he would add five turns to avoid crossing the hob.

Even the weather had little effect on the eternally congested man, no chill able to reach bones so frosted over by a cold and dead heart which barely beat more than once a minute. What worse could a rime of frost across his face do to the already bloodshot leering man with a gait so frigid it brought about a blizzard of hate in its wake?

Yes, Scrooge was all that and worse. And he was Bob Cratchit's boss.

"No!" Mr. Paris said, snapping Bob from his contemplation, "Of course not! I'm talking about dear old Fred! His Nephew! Wonderful man, one of my finest customers! He's hosting a party tomorrow. Hm, wish I were invited. I've heard they're quite rambunctious with their beer!" The man's smile stretched down two of his chins.

"Mm." Bob said, still mildly distracted. Then he looked up at Mr. Paris, "If you'd like, Monsieur, you can of course pay a visit to my home! I doubt my wife will take portion size into account! She thinks Tiny Tim can eat so much more than he can, you know. I bet there'll be more than leftovers."

"Ah... Tim." Mr. Paris nodded, "How is he doing?"

"Better! The young lady that came yesterday said he'd be... he'd likely be able to get to the table for Dinner! No... presents this year, what with the treatment. B-But he's happy. He's very excited for tomorrow, you know how kids are."

"Right..." Mr. Paris said. He tried to shift the mood again with a smile, "I'll be sure to hold you to that dinner, Cratchit, if I can pull myself out of the oven! Last minute Yule Cakes are the bread and butter of my operation in winter, aside from the bread and the butter, I mean! Hoh hoh hoh!" The man laughed at his own little joke, wiping chilled sweat from his forehead.

"Haha hahh..." Bob feigned a laugh, "I ought to be getting along. Nice talking to you, Monsieur!" Bob said, offering a friendly nod before bounding off down the street.

"Mmmh..." Mr. Paris sighed to himself, watching Bob leave, "Mayhaps a small cake for the boy... rabbits eat... carrots, right? Or is that offensive..." He muttered.

Scrooge had never painted over the sign. It read Scrooge and Marley's. It had for seven years, and long before that, just with the latter being alive at that time. Scrooge didn't care to have it painted, doing so would cost at least a dollar. Scrooge answered to either name these days, it made no difference.

Besides, anyone walking up the street would first see the sign hanging perpendicular, showing the Multi-Headed Draconic Symbol of the Silver Guild.

The Silver Guild was a sort of guild of bankers. It runs operations of banking, tax collecting, and money lending from either side of the continent, not just for Melodia. And one of the many operating offices in Amalen under their guildship was Scrooge and Marley's.

When Bob entered, he was looking at his watch. Then he heard the choking.

Bob's hops picked up pace as he bounded around the small desk he manned at the front, and into the back room. The office that Scrooge used.

It was sparing of detail, very good for me as a writer! It had a filing cabinet, a desk, a chair, an old coughing man in that chair, a candle, and a few necessary items. A single pen, a sheet of paper, and an abacus. It had nothing else.

And I do mean nothing else. It had no atmosphere, no warmth, no feeling of being filled or used, merely occupied. Its stagnant and cold air was only warmed up by the vibrations of the man having a fit in the midst of it. And that's when Bob slapped his boss on the back.

The hocked loogie of phlegm was dislodged. You'd expect something like black tar or nicotine ladened sludge. But if you'd expect that, you clearly haven't yet picked up on the kind of man that Scrooge was. Indeed, were tobacco free, he might have partaken. But the cost of addiction was too high... not to his health, mind you, but to his wallet.

"LATE!" He struggled out after air had finally reached his shriveled old lungs, "You're late, Cratchit." He said between panting gasps.

"... What?" Politeness had streamed out of Bob's range as confusion settled in.

"Don't those big ears do anything for you, man? I said you're late!"

"... No I'm not!" Bob said, usually never one to argue with his boss, "I'm right on time!"

With a flip and a light snatching sound, Ebenezer Scrooge had his pocket watch in his hand, "Seven O' Clock... One MInute and Thirteen Seconds Late."

Thankfully, Bob had his watch in his hand as well, and checked it, "Well- Well yes, but I got in a minute and thirteen seconds ago, sir! I was patting your back!"

"I could've handled it!" Ebenezer waved his hand, "You're wasting my time! My money! I'm paying you for your schedule, Bob Cratchit! That means you ought to be doing what I pay you to do! Not bothering around in my office!"

"I-" Bob started to say something, but then nodded. He had long ago realized how far you could push an argument with Scrooge. The argument was usually a few inches from a sheer cliff, no matter what it was about. "Right sir. Sorry sir." He didn't have to feign apology, that has never worked once in the history of argument. Exasperation did its job in place of lies.

"I'll be taking the minutes out of your pay. Two minutes ten seconds Bob. Get to your desk and good morning to you." Scrooge never once said Good Morning as a greeting, nor Good Afternoon. Bob had never heard him say Good Evening, certainly. Good Night was often followed by a comment on how much time Bob had wasted during the Good Day.

Bob hopped out of Ebenezer's office and sat at his desk, adjusting his seating as he pulled out papers. The chill of the new winter sprung into his bones, and he tightened his scarf. If there were heating in Scrooge and Marley's, then it seemed to be much less admonished for calling off than Bob was.

There was another fit of coughing, but Bob ignored it as he flipped through files on the new league of debtors that Scrooge had been bleeding dry.

Scrooge lent to his side and hocked up another wad of phlegm onto the floor next to him. He grunted as he took in a breath afterwards. His eye went down to the blob, and then back to his papers. "Bah... Cratchit can clean it later." he muttered.

It was some time later that someone actually entered into the office of Scrooge and Marley's. Rarely did anyone seem cheerful to do so, and when they did, it did not last long past the door. Bob saw two masked and robed women enter.

It would be pertinent to describe to you what the regional celebration of Yule is, as well as what these strange women are. I promise to try to keep it as short as I can.

The two women standing before Bob Cratchett are members of the Shianistic Religious Order, specifically the sect of Veritan Saintism. If these words confuse you, then pretend they don't exist. They're named Shians because of their masks, which are called Shia. They worship one of the many gods (as fantasy worlds oft have more than one) named Aude. Her holy light, guidance of all, true caretaker of the meek, and so on and so forth. You can make up the rest if you’d like, the Shians do so often.

Saintist Shians also worship a set of other gods, though calling them that would very much upset any Catholics reading this, so I'll refrain and call them what they are; Saints. One such Saint is named Noelle.

As the story goes, Noelle died in a blizzard trying to deliver a sled full of goodies to an orphanage. The goodies arrived safely, of course, as is the way with folk stories. And she has been called upon to deliver goods and cheer to the little children of those homes who worship Aude in the coldest bit of winter. Yuletide was not distinctly a Shian holiday, but was celebrated as such by Saintists.

This is why there were two strange women wearing masks and robes. Shianism being his religion of choice, and being a church going man in spite of his boss' protests, Bob was familiar with the two.

"I am Mel."

"I am Mal."

"... No. No. You are Mel. I am Mal."

"I am Mel? You are Mal?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

Bob had to assume they thought this bit was very clever, since they seemed to do it every single time they introduced themselves.

The two shians wore normal garb. Hoods, Robes, Gloves, Masks, and some warmer accouterments like boots. One was red, the other green, though they were absurdly disproportionate. Mel was exceptionally short, and Mal the opposite. Their masks were upside down. They were one of the stranger species you'd find in the magical fantasy world of Mira; being Punchinellettes (Punchinello being the masculine term).

Clowns. They were clown people. You couldn't see the big red noses with the masks on, but clowns are clowns wherever in the universe you wander.

Ina stepped between them. An average of their heights and wearing blue garb, a normal mask, a bit of colorful hair around the hood, "And I am Ina!" She said, finishing the bit despite Bob already knowing her name. She broke character immediately to cross her arms. "Oh dear, it's cold in here... is the heating broken?"

Indeed, it was cold. The faint wisps of air that carried the candle light closer to Cratchit gave the only bits of warmth he had enjoyed since coming into work. If walls were for keeping weather out, then they were slacking. It was likely that the only reason Scrooge didn't work out in the middle of a field rather than pay for a building was because there'd be nowhere to keep the money.

"No..." Bob said, unsure of the truthfulness of his answer, "How may I help you, Ina?"

"We are seeking donations for Yule!" The cheeriness of the statement was punctuated by a thump from Scrooge's office, which forced a shiver up Bob's spine.

His expression froze, "Oh… you are?"

"Indeed. Is Mr. Marley or Mr. Scrooge in? I'd like to-"

"Mmm?" Grumbled out the proprietor as he opened his office door.

The old hobgoblin stood, hunched over a cane. He seemed built for three legs. The glare just wouldn't be right if it wasn't slightly pointed up at you.

Bob faded into the background of the conversation, aware now that this local shian had not yet acquainted herself with Mr. Scrooge... Perhaps this was her first round. Perhaps she had been between choices and seen a Silver Guild house that, for some reason, was not on her list. And decided to poke in and greet the likely very generous man who hadn't yet been called upon to give.

"Mr Marley, I presume?" Ina said.

"Presume wrong. Marley's been dead seven years. Died on this very night, seven years ago, in fact..."

"Oh. Then I'm sure his spirit is carried on by his living partner then!" Ina wound her way back magnificently, "It is upon these solemn and cold days in the midst of winter that-"

"Autumn." Scrooge interjected.

"... Ah?"

"Autumn. Winter starts tomorrow. That's what a solstice is."

Bob shrunk in his chair, wishing very much he could literally fade into the background. Any ground other than the middle would be choice right about now...

"W-Well, on the Eve of Winter, when it is most cold and dire. We wish to give to our community! The Shian's do run a Home for the Homeless, and of course there is our Free Medical Care for the disadvantaged. We also pitch in for funds for local orphanages and soup kitchens in the nearby villages!" Ina said. She lifted her pen and a pad of paper, "So many are in want of... common comforts, and its thanks to donations like yours that the necessities of these disadvantaged and impoverished are met."

"Mmm..." Scrooge thought, scratching the tip of his chin. Bob couldn't help but to turn his head and watch the wrinkles on his boss's face move across his expressions as he considered.

"Are there no prisons?" Scrooge asked.

Ina looked away for a moment, repathing her thought, "Uh. Yes, sir. I'm certain there still are many prisons. I am aware of the local Prison offshore, at the very least... One of my cousins works there, performing-"

"Are there no workhouses?" Scrooge further prodded, honest concern in his voice.

"Oh dear, unfortunately there are. Despite the work of the Guilds to combat unfair work practices, there are still workhouses open on, what I must say are shakey legal-"

"And those... child labor laws, they've been enacted, then surely?" His line of questions had a serious tone, concern riddled it like the plague.

"Ah, you mean the ones to combat those small 'farms'." The disgust in the woman's voice came with the quotes, "Not yet, though I'm sure our patricians will soon push through such legislation." She sounded quite cheered at this. Bob could only wonder what she thought Scrooge was actually getting at...

"Ah. I was wondering if something had happened. Based on what you were saying at first. That these very useful institutions had been lost to this social progress."

Ina stopped moving, her face ostensibly pointed at Scrooge, she resorted to memory and lifted her pen again, "What shall I put you down for, Mr. Scrooge?"

"Nothing. Of course." Scrooge said.

"... Ah!" Ina said, nodding, "You wish to remain anonymous, I-"

"Nothing." Scrooge repeated, "I wish to be left alone! If there is an answer you seek, that is the one I offer, young lady. If the poor wish to be merry on Yule, they may happily take themselves to the establishments I had mentioned!"

"Many cannot!" Ina said, trying to steer the conversation to one she could fill with her own creed, "And still, many would rather die than work for those borderline illegal institutions."

"Then let them die!" The old Hob shook his head, speaking as though talking to a complete moron, "It's not my business what the wasteful and the poor do! If they died, much the better to the economy! We're better without bums!"

"And what of the sick?" Ina said, her mask drifted to Bob, who had put his head down out of an ingrained rabbit survival instinct to burrow in the face of danger.

"Bah!" Scrooge said, "If they're not getting better themselves, and they can't AFFORD to eat a little gruel, they can die too! Die in the gutter, die in the streets, as long as they do so away from my business."

Mel and Mal, who had not said or done much of anything during this argument, serving as mere set dressing for the charity collection, now looked at eachother. They didn't seem to come to any conclusion, and looked back to Scrooge.

"The business of all people is generosity and to the betterment of one's fellow man!" Ina touted.

"What would you know about business, you bible thumping fool." Scrooge spat, "You wouldn't know a hard day's work if it ripped your silly masks off! The better for it, you live on donations and charity. Why don't you tear down that stupid cathedral you have and sell the stone if you so desperately want to give handouts to hobos and bums, hm?"

"How can you say such things on the Eve of Yule! It is the time of the year for generosity, Mr. Scrooge!"

"Yule..." Scrooge sneered, "Bah, humbug!" He made a dismissive motion, "Nothing but a cold snap that makes people want to steal from my purse. Bah humbug to the whole celebration! The whole month! The whole winter! Good Afternoon, ladies." He hobbled back and slammed his office door.

Bob finally lifted his head from the desk and dug about in his coat’s pockets.

Bob hopped off his chair and walked around the desk,  "I'm so... sorry about that." He whispered. "You should go... uhm, here." He took out a coin and slipped it into the little can Mel was holding. "I'm so so sorry."

"HUFF! What a terrible man! Noelle should curse him for his selfishness." Ina fumed. The steam coming off of her would have been visible if she had not been wearing a full body cloak.

"He's not that bad..." Bob whispered, "You just have to... get to know him a bit..." He looked incredulous of his own statement as he glanced back at the door to Scrooge's office.

"You have a good heart, Mr. Cratchit, dear." Ina said, looking down, "But - 'Do not waste what love you have on those who would not share it, or it will be lost', Lehsda 2:10." She opened the can and returned the coin, "I know you need this. Please give Tim my warmest for tomorrow. Merry Yule." She turned and left.

Mel and Mal stood silently for a bit before turning and leaving as well, trying to squeeze out the door despite it not being big enough for both of them at once. It took a while, and would have been humorous if Bob weren't already feeling the pressure of time. Eventually he just closed the door to force them out in one poff of collapsing into the street's snow.

A while back, quite a while now, I mentioned that Mira, the fantasy world in which this story takes place, has a ring. It's quite beautiful, especially now, at the very peak of night. The moon was high above, full and bright, you could almost see the shadow of Noelle's sled as her mythical wildcat pulled it through the stars... and that light unfortunately also hit Scrooge and Marley's.

The chill had set in quite a bit more, after a high in the 'good afternoon', it reached back down to grasp the hearts and hands of anyone unfortunate enough to be out in the streets.

Fires had been built in the alleys for beggars and stragglers in life to hobble around, eating what they had been tossed or found throughout the day. The singing of a child on the doorstep of Scrooge and Marley's ended quite abruptly when Scrooged asked (at a very high volume) for Bob to go grab the poker from the furnace.

Bob wasn't sure where that would be, or if they even had one, but it did indeed make that slight comforting distraction go away.

But now it was night. Cold, chilly, and Bob was putting away his things.

"Mr. Scrooge?" Bob said, walking towards the office door, "I'll uhm... be going home, now... Sir."

"Right." He said, "And you'll be wanting tomorrow off, I imagine?"

"Well... yes, sir..." Bob said, through the door. He took off his hat now, rotating it in his fingers as nervousness drove through his bones.

"Bah... and you think me not abused in such a way, a full day's pay for a no day's work..."

"It is... Yule, sir. After all." Bob said.

"Oh, and I'm certain that should I have my pocket picked once a year, I should be fine with that too? Just because it happens on the same day?"

"No, Mr. Scrooge."

"If you are to have the whole day, be earlier the next. Do not be late like this morning, Cratchit." The sounds of shuffling paper continued.

Bob stood at the office door. He stood there for quite a while. It felt like yule had come, gone, and then come again before the nerves had steeled themselves enough for him to reach out and open the office door.

"Yes?" Scrooge didn't look up.

"Mr. Scrooge- I... I feel I do a very fair share around here."

"Fair, hm?"

"And my notary work is quite the best I've seen, might I add! My shorthand is quick, and I'm very welcoming to our clients-"

"Did you come in here to brag, Crachit?" Scrooge asked, finally looking up at him over the rim of his half-moon spectacles, the ones he used to read the names of all the people he felt were stealing from him in one way or another.

"No, sir." Cratchit said. With all the bravery and backbone that the possibility of a ‘stern talking to' by his wife could muster, he said "I think I deserve a Raise, sir."

"A raise."

Bob didn't answer. He simply kept staring at Scrooge. As the seconds turned closer and closer to a minute of staring, the confidence began to melt. At the very least, he could see the wrinkles moving, he knew Scrooge was... thinking about it.

"Mm." Scrooge said, not dismissively nor very affirmatively, "Ask me again tomorrow." He pulled his abacus towards himself.

"Oh but, uh... Sir, tomorrow I'll be at home. It's Yule."

Scrooge scowled and made another show of moving his abacus before clasping his hands on his desk, "So you want a raise and a vacation?"

"Huh?"

"And then what will you do? Waste it on more... beggars like those shians from earlier? Hm?" He turned his cheek and smiled a sinister grin, then changed it to a scowl again, "If you want money, you work."

"Sir, tomorrow is Yule!"

"Bah humbug! Yule! A foolish holiday for foolish men!" He wagged his finger, "You want to squeeze any more cash out of me, you can come in tomorrow, or never come back! Charity Case Cratchit!"

"But sir! I have- I have another child on the way, I need the money!"

"Oh, so your inability to act like a person instead of a rabbit is now weighing on my pocketbook? I think not! You're lucky I don't dock your pay for tardiness."

"You do dock my pay for tardiness!" Bob said. He swallowed down what he was intending to say next, beating it back with as much of his humility as he could... but the dam had already been leaking, and it was time for it to break.

Scrooge watched what certainly wasn't a visible transformation, but one of atmosphere. It was difficult, however, so confided in his own world of misery to see the growth of rage in someone else's.

 Bob scrunched up his face, gripped his hat tight, then said, "Then good day to you, Scrooge! You can keep this job and... and shove it! You rotten old fool!"

"HAH!" Scrooge laughed, his unending snear tilting upward into a sadistic grin "Enjoy starving in the streets like those homeless you so do love so much then! Get out of my office!" He pointed beyond Bob.

Bob hopped past what he had always thought of his desk, and to the door.

For a brief moment, he stopped and turned his head. A thought of mercy, of care for the old man had almost breached his blind anger, but it found itself entering a tavern where the proprietor was less than thrilled to serve it.

He walked out, and slammed the door in his wake, hopping his way down the cold street.

He stopped a ways away, only about a block, and looked up to the shining moon. He frowned, staring up at the great glowing pearl in the sky, and the horizon itself glowing from the ring of his world. He twisted his hat a bit, and then put it onto his head again. He sighed, "Oh, Mr. Scrooge... why did I ever try to see the good in a man like you..." He continued hopping away. If he really was fired, he could save that news for after Yule.

#Christmas #A Christmas Carol #ebenezer scrooge #fantasy writing #retelling #yuletide #yule #Christmas Carol #writing #writers on tumblr

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[chthonicgodling]

oh its long on your dashes sorry not sowwy-

AN ELYSIUM DRAMA UPDATE - 🎊CHAL & BEL GOT MARRIED!🎊 (and also Ty & Libby but they’ll get their own post maybe fgkfk) they did get their own post! see it here!!

these little updates are usually not as fancy as this one is but THIS ONE’S SOOO SPECIAL!! whereas Chal&Bel and Libby&Ty have been engaged, but decided to quickly and informally sign their marriage certificates well before their joint wedding bcccc Chal was stressed about it lol. So This little comic is a very very abridged version of that canon convo!! PS friendly reminder Chal glows when she's happy thats important ty

i felt like I owed them this elaborate illustration seeing as specifically their relationship has basically begun and continued LIVE throughout constant doodles, liveblogging, and these updates since literallly ✨2016✨ and some of you have indeed been watchin them WITH ME with baited breath WITH ME, and so this is. well since this is simply the most exciting thing of all time, I just had to do SOMETHING to commemorate it!! this took place about two weeks ago!! it feels like just yesterday i was uploading a comic about their first kiss i- oh that collection is over here. okay im bawling. AAHH. im not going to survive their future actual wedding ceremony when theyre all in little outfits fhghg-G

A SPECIAL ROUND OF APPLAUSE AND LOVE for my partner-in-crime @fenixethekid, (responsible of course for Bel and Tory, also Ty, & generally half of all of Elysium), who gets credit for THE EXCEPTIONAL DIALOGUE HERE😭😭except for that one line of Chal being a shellshocked moron. im collapsing and weeping on the ground

Anyway I do want to put together some more doodles and gHFGK HOPEFULLY make Ty and Libby their own post - they were married about 15 seconds after Chal and Bel after all the Ty & Libby centric SEQUEL is now over here!!!- but for now!! here’s The Big One! new friends, enjoy this fluff;; old friends I hope you’re crying with me AAHHH;; congrats to our kids 🥹💞🎊✨🎊💞🖤❤️🖤❤️ omg…. omg

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Extended write-up of my personals for those intrigued:

Cute little 30 yr girl. 4' 10", 130 lbs, green eyes, straight teeth, bangs, glasses, big tits, with curly blonde hair. dresses gothic pastel Japanese, listens to lil peep. model. studied fine arts. photography. dance. studied music. studied digital photography and black and white film photography. creative writing (fiction and non fiction). gymnastics. theater. cooking. sewing. esthetician research. certifications in adobe Photoshop, dream Weaver, and illustrator. dog training classes. Horseback riding trained English and western. Worked at the zoo!. Experienced in handling all animals. 

I like to surf I can do archery I can kayak I can canoe I can white water raft I can drive a boat. I can do pottery on the spinning wheel. I can blow glass. Contortionist levels of flexibility. Great core strength from being in sports my teenage hood. I can competitively swim, I've at least taken swim lessons a million times so I know all of the training.

I'm one of those little dorky smarty pants know it all girlies.  Nowadays my aesthetic is sundresses and bodysuits and the like (especially the two combined) crop tops, high rise shirts and skirts. Shawls. Different fabulous flower clad Cat ear adorned headband in my hair. Very chic . Japanese, blackpink, pastel, sakura, mother earth type of look. I played the clarinet. I drew and painted. I write fiction and nonfiction and poetry. I do photography digital and black and white film photography and I know how to develop it in the dark room, and gymnastics. And I love cooking. And I took psychology college courses in high school because I have a passion in that too. I can sew. And I have a green thumb I was just gardening outside taking care of my plantains. I'm about to start growing weed. And mushrooms. I can edit videos very well and I'm extremely tech savvy and I studied music, and I'm trained in the marching band so I'm trained in keeping rhythm and beat. 😁🤙🏻  hydroponic indoor plant gardening too!.

Lesser albeit mentionable knowledge of maths, I studied trigonometry in school. I have a basic yet reputable knowledge of chemistry, as I studied that as well as an honor student, as well as basic human biology, and marine biology (being the lesser of my expertise.) And I am trained in research in general as well. 

I've been to 13 states, 8 countries

https://linktr.ee/dollymaye

#bookworm #nutrition #about myself #plantlover #plant lady #plant lore #poetry #lil peep #music #sadgirl #sad boi shit #goth chick #goblincore #gaming #graphic design #graphic art #fae folk #goblin culture #mushroomcore #whimsicore #whimsigoth #japanese art #sakura #cherry blossom #big tiddy committee #big tiddy gf #big tiddy goth gf #nerdy girls #blondie #curly hair

[emmbrr]

How did you get into kid lit, and how could I get started if that's a path I want to take in my life?

hello hello! what a great question! i'll do my best to answer.

my interest in kid lit first happened when i was in AP art in high school (for those who don't/didn't have AP art, it means 'advanced placement' and is considered a college-level class that you have to put together a portfolio for review by a board, they grade it, etc, if you pass it can cover an art credit if you go to college). during our AP art show, the school principal asked if he could have a copy of one of my works (much different than the work i do now) for his young daughter. i was like :0 childrens books! fantastic. now people don't have to make fun of me and say i'm going to art school to draw anime (-_-)

my path to my current situation was a winding road, but long story short i did attend art school and study childrens book illustration. i took a long break from art (like, years) before deciding that kid lit was something i really wanted to work in. i think if college isn't for you, or if kidlit is something you would like to try out first, you could find a local class that specifically teaches it. otherwise, there are a few online courses i'd recommend but they are expensive (namely lilla roger's online childrens book course). for me personally, i took a certificate course at a local art school before returning to college to study it. you could theoretically teach yourself with youtube videos and mocking up illustrations for a pre-existing story, as i'm sure a lot of other kidlit illustrators have, but imho nothing beats in-person critiques and feedback. not only that, but sometimes getting an assignment of something you don't want to do is very much like real life client work, and forces you to get out of your comfort zone to complete the task by a deadline. i hope this was somewhat helpful!

#ask #anon #kidlit