#I wish I had more artistic energy I would draw them so much

[artnerd1123]

Anyway. Blorbos

#I cannot be coherent I just love them I’m losing my shit abt them #I wish I had more artistic energy I would draw them so much #someone remind me to post a link to the latest dice chapter when I’m home #bc I am writing at least!!! #and we got to a big milestone in character development muahaha #but yeah if anyone ever wants to hear me never shut up. my dice blorbos will get me talking for 5000000 year #arty escapades

[scuderiasundays]

chili’s angels

summary: carlos can’t say no to his little girls, leaving him with some explaining to do on media day + a little insta au at the end 🌶️

words: 806

a/n: this one was in my drafts for a while but i brought it out for @thatsdemko and all the dad! carlos girlies out there. i know there are a lot of you! tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, and @diorleclerc just because. feedback is much appreciated as always. hugs and kisses 🫶🏼

When Y/N found out she was pregnant with twin girls, Carlos was over the moon. He had been raised by a vivacious mother and alongside two sisters, who despite driving him mad as a child, had become his closest confidantes. Carlos stopped wearing the Tom Ford cologne you once loved when it started to trigger your nausea. He rushed to a nearby drive-through at midnight solely to satisfy your craving for fries and a milkshake. And when your shoelaces needed tying, he was always there to help.

“I feel like I’m asking way too much of you,” you spoke. He smiled and gently caressed your growing belly. "Never, mi amor. Taking care of you and our girls is my purpose now," he said tenderly. "You're an amazing mom already, and I can't wait to see our daughters grow up with the same strength and love that you have."

You had held off on naming the twins because you strongly felt you owed it to your daughters to meet them and get an actual feel for their energies. Together, you spent an evening brainstorming a list of potential names, Carlos voicing a particular preference for their names starting with the same letter. Labor proved to be more challenging than anyone had ever prepared you for, leaving you drained once it was over. Carlos cradled the newborns in his arms, softly uttering their names, "Melina" and "Mila," while his gaze shifted from one little face to the other.

Flash forward, and your twin daughters thought the world of their dad. You loved getting to see Carlos in a new light, your love for him only growing as you watched him interact with your girls. "Can we go outside and play? Please!" Melina and Mila were like the Energizer Bunny times two on the rare weekends when Carlos was home. Although he rarely said no to them, they were both feeling under the weather, so he shook his head. "How about we stay inside and do some drawing?" he suggested.

"Can we paint your nails? Mamá always lets us," the girls asked, their eyes widening as they edged closer to him. Carlos paused for a moment, thinking, what harm could it do? Eventually, he nodded in agreement. The girls knew exactly where their mother kept her nail polish kit and eagerly fetched the equipment. "We have Barbie pink and Ferrari red, just like our cars," Melina said, holding up the bottles with her pudgy fingers. "Mama wears the red one when we watch you drive on TV," Mila chimed in. He assumed Melina was referring to the little toy LaFerraris he had bought the girls on their birthday. He loved watching the girls as they raced in their garden, a tangible sign they had inherited his passion for cars.

"What's that thing you always say, Papá? For the Ferrari?" Mila looked up at her dad with chocolate brown eyes. "Forza Ferrari, mija," Carlos replied. Before he could even pick a color, Melina grabbed his hand and started painting his thumbnail bright red. The girls both had a hard time staying within the lines, so Carlos took it upon himself to clean up the edges. After they were done, he was instructed to place each hand under the UV lamp. He couldn’t help but wonder if the nail polish would come off easily later, but he soon noticed the excitement of being nail artists had worn the twins out. He picked them up and gently laid them down for a nap.

As Carlos boarded his flight to Hungary, he realized that his red manicure was not coming off without a fight. He absentmindedly picked at his nails, silently wishing his wife had been there to offer him the mini nail file she always carried. With media day approaching, he knew that people would definitely pick up on his vibrant nails.

"Nice nails, Carlos. Whose handiwork is this?" Natalie, a familiar face, pointed at his hands with a smile. Carlos chuckled and replied, "Oh, this masterpiece? My twin daughters painted them. I just don’t know how to say no to those two." He shrugged, shaking his head.

"Well, here they are to say hello.” The TV presenter had organized a surprise Zoom call with Y/N and Carlos' daughters, who had been nicknamed "Chili’s Angels" by his fans.

"Buenos días, mis hijas. I hope you're feeling better," he greeted them, waving at the camera. Melina proudly held up her mom's hand, showcasing her red nails. "Look! You and Mamá match now!" she exclaimed. Carlos winked at his wife, grateful for the little moment of connection despite the distance.

"Forza Ferrari, Papá!" Mila squealed, waving goodbye. “They really are my angels, all three of them,” he thought, setting off a mental countdown of days until he was back in their arms again.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 57,575 others

carlossainz55: life is sweeter with my angels. hope i’m making you proud 🫶🏼

yourusername: we’re so lucky to have you! you just had to choose THAT photo of mila scarfing down her pizza? clearly my genes 🍕🤤

fan1: chili’s angels merch when? i swear i will buy it ALL

landonorris: ask melly and milly who their favorite uncle is and i’ll let you by at the start on sunday!

carlossainz55: “come over, uncle lando! we can paint your nails orange.” - melina & mila sainz

anasainzvdec: the most adorable nieces an aunt could wish for ❤️

scuderiaferrari: when mila said “forza ferrari” in an interview this morning! who’s cutting the damn onions?

fan2: carlos and @yourusername are starting them off young 🥹

#carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz edit #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz #f1 x you #carlos sainz fluff #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 instagram au #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz instagram edit #carlos sainz fic #dad carlos

[imbored1201]

Hi, can you please do a mapi x ingrid x reader where ingrid and reader are taking care of Mapi after her injury and surgery

Her Favorite Artist

A/N: Knowing Mapi is going to be out the whole season breaks my heart

Mapi x Ingrid x Reader

Word Count: 1,122

The day of Mapi's surgery was the day of the Champions League game. You two wanted to stay, but Mapi forced you guys to go. The team was already full of injuries, so you guys were really needed. 

It made you feel better at the fact that Alexia and Mapi's parents would be there waiting for her to get out of surgery, and Alexia would be taking her home. 

You called her after the game, but she was still a bit loopy, and Alexia told you guys what the doctor had told her about Mapi probably missing the whole season. 

You felt terrible for her; one moment the two of you were giggling and warming up, and the next she was on the floor in pain during a defensive drill. 

She was taken away, and you were stressing out the whole training about it. When you were finally able to see her again, it wasn’t a pretty sight. 

You had never seen Mapi so broken; it was something you wished you would never see again. 

You spent the whole day trying to cheer her up and just being there to listen and help her with what she was feeling. 

—————

You were antsy to see Mapi, bouncing up and down in your seat. You had so much energy, considering you didn’t have your other energetic buddy to help you release it, and the blow-out win did not help one bit, only making you way more energetic. 

You usually blabbered on the whole bus ride about random topics, and Mapi was the one that listened since Ingrid was never able to keep up. Now Ingrid had to force herself to keep up with your ranting. 

But when you noticed she wasn’t keeping up, you just went silent and listened to music. 

————

Now you were with your usual questions being a passenger princess. Ingrid answering them all, knowing if she didn’t it would put you in a bad mood.

“Is Mapi sleeping?” "No" You tapped on the window. “Can I sign her cast?" “No” 

“Can I push her around in a wheelchair?” “She won’t let you." You thought about that. “Maybe, would you?” Ingrid put the car in park. “No” 

You quickly got out of the car and ran to the door. Ingrid sighed and got to work, having to carry all the bags. 

————

Right when Alexia opened the door, you ran inside to find Mapi. "Hello to you too," Alexia said sarcastically. She grinned as she noticed Ingrid struggling to carry all the bags by herself and quickly took some. Ingrid smiled, hugging her, and they got into a conversation. 

Mapi smiled at you and patted the seat beside her. She was on the long part of the couch, the part where you loved to take your midday naps. "Guess you could have that part for now," you told her. "Wow, thank you for being so considerate," she said sarcastically. 

You gave her a tight hug, and she kissed your head. "How are you feeling?" Ingrid asked her, now joining you two in the living room, "Tired." Ingrid nodded as she hugged Mapi and gave her a kiss on the cheek. 

"How does it feel?" You questioned her, knocking on her cast. Ingrid quickly smacked your arm away. 

"It doesn't feel good, that's for sure," you hummed as you continued to look at it. "Can I sign it?" "No," Ingrid said sternly. 

"Why don't you go check on the soup that Ale was making" she told you as she got a pillow to lift Mapi's leg. You nodded and went to check on it.

You stirred it a bit before turning off the stove. "I think it's ready," you called out, and Ingrid came back in to make sure your judgment was right. 

She gave you a kiss on the head, and you went back to Mapi. "Did Alexia give you the drawing I made you for after your surgery?" She smiled. "It's hung up on the fridge Carino."

"Did you like it?" She nodded. "You know I like everything that's made by my favorite artist." You smiled at that. You loved drawing pictures for everyone; it was just something you did when you got bored.

Mapi patted her non-injured leg, signaling for you to lay your head there. "I don't want to hurt you," she shook her head. "You won't; come on, it's been a while since I've played with your hair."

You sighed and listened. Mapi playing with your hair brought a huge comfort to the both of you. Ingrid walked in with two bowls of soup and smiled at the sight in front of her. She gave one to Mapi and set yours on the coffee table before going to get hers. 

"What a sight," she said as she squeezed in next to Mapi. "Ale said you two played amazing yesterday." You jumped up again, scaring them a bit. "I made you another drawing," you told her as you rushed to find it in your backpack.

"She was working on it during the plane ride," Ingrid told Mapi. Again, it was a regular occurrence, and they had them everywhere in the house. Some hung up on the fridge, some hung up on the walls; Ingrid even had a whole folder filled with them. 

You gave the drawing to Mapi, and she admired it. It was a drawing of her in the blue kit. "Aitana did the coloring," she smiled. "I'll put this one in the folder." She kissed your head and tapped her thigh so you could lay back in her lap.

“Are you going to be our wag now?” You asked her again, and Ingrid nodded; she wanted it too. “Yes amor, I’ll be your guys wag."

Mapi smirked. “Only if you agree to tell Lucy that I’m a way better defender than her,” you groaned. “I can’t! She’ll kill me, and don’t you dare say you’ll protect me because we both know you won’t be able to."

“Then I’m not going to be a wag,” you looked at Ingrid for help. “Don’t bring me into this."

She secretly loved it; it was boring not having to break up a childish argument between you and Mapi during the plane ride. 

“Fine, whatever, now why don’t you be a dear and get the crippled lady a water” you scowled, but listened. 

You knew Mapi was going to be bossing you around a lot now, but you were happy to do it. Anything to help her recover. 

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso #ingrid engen #mapi leon #mapi leon x reader #ingrid engen x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni

[tbcanary]

haiii uhm. idk if anyone has asked this but what are some of your favorite character costumes/outfits :O

iggy i love and adore you and i love this question. hold on, i have to dig up some images.

okay. i dug up some images. so many, in fact, that i hit image limit on this post and had to trim some things down. let's go through it.

we're gonna just go ahead and start out with dinah lance, the light of my life. this whole post won't be sorted by character, but she's the one i have the most images of, so she gets her own section.

i know people really, really love the short-haired, less effeminate dinah we get in grell's 80s run. i'll get to her! but i'm going to start by saying that her looks in the green lantern/green arrow run are all-time. please consider, if you will, the most fashionable lady in the room:

(i can't include the house robe from snowbirds, but know that i spiritually do count it as part of this post. i hold it near and dear. for now, these two looks will do.)

her long black hair. her little white vest. the statement necklace for her date with ollie. and look, i would include ollie here too, because his outfits in this run are PEAK seventies dad energy, but i don't have the space and i like dinah more, so you get these.

then comes the 80s, when dinah is in her element. short black hair, noir vibes, wearing graphic tees for things like "seattle slugfest." (in longbow hunters, at least.)

she gets some cute looks in grell's run, obviously, but i'm partial to this little skirt and sleeveless denim button-up because it's so very unlike her. she was putting in the work to look cute, and i appreciate it. oliver, meanwhile, looks like fred from scooby doo.

the 1991 run is important because of her extremely high heeled boots with the BIG cuffs around the calves. i miss the cuffs. i wish they would return to me. but the actual panels i think about the most from this run are when she cuts her fishnet stockings and uses them to tie her hair back.

wh. who. i want to know which people in the writer's room decided that was a feasible option. i just want to talk. i can't imagine a less stable hairstyle to go karate-chop some yacht pirates. come on now. but also, she even ties them in a bow? i love her so much. what the fuck is happening.

she has a lot of good looks in birds of prey (1999), honestly, but none of the artists have EVER IN THEIR LIFE seen a woman's chest. not a one. i'm going to go ahead and stick to the two things i love: the fringed leather jacket (iconic) and the long-pants jumpsuit that they did instead of the fishnets.

i don't know WHY they got rid of the fishnets, honestly, but i like this turtleneck situation and the yellow accents. also her communicator necklace on full display <3 she also usually wears a motor jacket OVER the jumpsuit. slay!

(it's maybe a little sacrilegious to like the long pants costume, given that she is so well-known for the bodysuit and fishnets. but to be fair, even when they cut the legs off this suit, she still isn't wearing the stockings. her legs are naked. 0/10 what the HELL.)

sean izaakse deserves his own post and i would not be able to pick out a limited number of panels from his work on green arrow (2023) but i will say i love dinah's new costume, i love the texture on her jacket, and i love that she gets to have the little canary logo on the chest now.

i assume this was more of a birds of prey (2023) design and not izaakse's personal design, but i love how he draws her hair, and she's so short compared to everyone, and overall she just looks good. zero complaints here.

(actually, i do have a few complaints, they just aren't about dinah. one, lian's eyes should be brown. two, ollie should have KEPT HIS HORRIBLE MANBUN, THAT'S MY DAD. and three, mia's cape should still be yellow on the outside. otherwise, the art in this run is perfect.)

speaking of mia.

the art of green arrow (2001) is not like. my favorite art style ever in terms of aesthetics. but hester really, really sets the tone for a lot of these characters through his design choices. particularly mia, which makes a lot of sense given this is her introduction and he did a lot of the initial work with her character.

the thought put into her costuming. she's wearing baggy clothes to contrast with what she wore before she moved in with ollie, she has the hair up in a messy ponytail, etc etc. this mia is everything to me. and i love ollie, too. he looks like a cartoon dad from a nickelodeon show. which is exactly who he is, to me.

we're gonna detour from dc and into marvel for just a second but don't worry we'll come right back. i was really excited when kelly thompson and leo romero were announced for birds of prey (2023) because i really liked their work on hawkeye (2016). it's such a good style for kate bishop, in particular; it feels very youthful and the style just suits her. this is The Kate Bishop, to me, outside of the 2012 run.

(i also really, really like the way dinah is drawn in birds of prey (2023). she's small, she's compact, she looks like someone who's been doing gymnastics and karate her whole life. i could also fit her in my pocket! perfect!!!!)

but yeah okay i mentioned it so i also need to shout out hawkeye 2012. this comic's aesthetics were so fucking on point, and it is one of my favorite ones i've ever edited because it has such an INTENTIONAL color palette and use of graphics like the arrows and bullseyes.

like i know everyone talks about how good this run is but that's because it is LITERALLY that fucking good. the writing. the art. the characterization. ugh. life-changing.

anyway that's enough marvel (for now). back to my hovel. dc.

spiritworld (2023) was so fun. the art is so intentionally drawing on manga and i loved it from the first issue. you can feel the love put into the character design and the color work, and xanthe's cool bomber jacket and undercut is SO essential. this is the nonbinary rep we deserve.

shoutout to cass's look in this comic, too. i LOVE this costume for her. it moves in such a fun and exciting way when she's flipping around and moving through the air, it has a new silhouette, AND it STILL has the bat on the chest. perfect. everything to me. never change.

that being said, i DO have a favorite cass look, and it's these specific panels from batgirl (2000). the style in most of that comic is great, it's super funky and fun, but these were the panels i saw that ended up solidifying in my brain as "oh, that's cass."

also from batgirl (2000) though, i love the funky design choices because they give us things like PEAK takes on stephanie brown's spoiler costume. she's just a fucking blob to me. look at her.

steph has a lot of fun looks, to me, but my favorite will always be the era in like, issues 110-112 of robin (1993), where they gave her a bob cut and big :pleading: emoji eyes.

i do wish she'd had freckles at this time. i know they were a later addition, but i like them. they add character.

unrelated to AAAANY of that, i need to talk about poison ivy (2022). this run is stuuuuuunning. i've only pulled panels of pamela here because i LOVE the way her freak body horror is done, as well as the way her hair is drawn, but the scenery and the textures of this comic as a whole are insane.

even when the story isn't grabbing me, the art does. it's beautiful, it's unlike any other comic i'm reading right now, and it is one of the first comics i ever looked at that made me go, oh fuck, that's an ART piece. ykwim.

HOWEVER. if we're talking about comics that are just. art. through and through. there are a couple others i need to mention.

supergirl: woman of tomorrow is stunning. the colorwork, the hair texture, the EXPRESSIVENESS of the FACES. ugh. this comic made me cry, yeah, but it also made me stroke the pages lovingly because of the beautifully rendered colors.

i love that kara doesn't always look Pretty. i love that she gets bloody, and beat up, and she looks tired and sad and sick sometimes. i love that it is so beautiful and also you can see genuine hurt on kara's face. ugh. UGH. this comic!!!!

now for the indie shit lol. die (2020) is sooooo lovely. stephanie hans is ordinarily a cover artist, but she jumped onto this project to do pages, and my GOD is it beautiful. the character design, the colors, the expressions. it feels like a PAINTING and i want to EAT it.

there's a lot of body horror and gruesome stuff in here. but like, somehow, even that manages to look pretty? i love the painterly textures. i love how the tone influences the colors. it's all just stunning. i need to go reread this one right now, actually.

annnnnnnd! last one, i promise! it's time for THE FORGED (2023).

i love this comic. everyone in it is a lesbian with an atypical body type, half of them are wearing bondage gear, and it's all set in a space sci-fi setting with more lore than you can shake a stick at.

and on TOP of all of THAT. LOOK HOW BEAUTIFUL THE COLORS ARE.

there are a few honorable mentions i don't have room to include images of, so i'm gonna go off and list them now:

the wild west arc of exiles (2012) in that very painterly style

the scenery and background work in wonder woman: the hiketeia

the INCREDIBLY clean lines and sharp colorwork of dan mora in world's finest (2023)

the super sketchy and rough pencil-esque art in the back half of green arrow/black canary (especially mia! i love her!)

i am sorry but i enjoy the very sharp style of batgirls (2022). i don't necessarily endorse the writing or the story of the run, but i think the shapes are good. sorry. take me out back, i know.

young justice (1998) also has very cute cartoony art!! i haven't read much of it yet, but every time i see it, it makes me smile. which is the point, i think?

OKAY. PHEW. do you regret asking me yet, gobby. did you get what you came for. am i welcome to come yell at you about the forged (2023) and die (2020) until the day we both shed this mortal coil and depart for the great beyond.

that's it ily mwah thank you for the best question i've ever been asked <3333

#ask.tb #stainedglassgoblin #I HAVE BEEN CONSIDERING RANKING DINAH'S OUTFITS FOR LIKE FOUR DAYS. HOW DID YOU KNOW. #that's not what this is. this is a mess of a post. but dinah's sure in it a lot. #i may come back tomorrow with more images. only time will tell.

[horsesteak]

“Now thank the good lordy above this absolute belter of a nook is still open in the wee hours of the day!”

The sudden blast of energy the newcomer radiated as his voice joyfully boomed through the tiny, cramped eatery was an immediate overdose for the overworked waitress. It was far too late (or rather, early, according to the man) for this sort of social interaction.

Check out Everything and Nothing by beans (with 6 e's and 6 a's) on AO3! Also check out my co-artist @gearbroth 's (!!!) art on their blog!

For the 2023 TF2 Big Bang! @tf2bigbang

~~~

See below for bonus sketches and infodump!

It's been a while since I did a big art piece like this. It was fun, and it got me experimenting with watercolour pencils for the first time. I'm still learning the craft, and as much as I want my first ever watercolour painting to be perfect, it'll have to do. I'm satisfied with my attempt this time.

Although I do wish I could capture the painting in a higher resolution; phone camera and scanner couldn't cut it, everything is still a bit blurry. Here's the best I can take on my phone:

It's also the original colours, before digital shenanigans were done to it. The work of a sleep deprived art wizard waving his silly little magic wand tool to get everything to look nicer.

The original concept for this mini-comic came to me while I was sitting under a tree, halfheartedly trying to study for my two exams the next day. I quickly sketched this:

I honestly like the lineart of this sketch better than the final. What could be better than demo's sparkley anime eyes?

I was excited I finally came up with an idea after being high and dry for weeks. Basically my mental state:

I was going to have Demo stride in, burst through that door with exuberant energy that filled the Spy's shitty dead-end cafe. And also showcase his traditional Scottish garb, which let me tell you is a whole rabbithole that I eagerly leapt into while researching for cultural accuracy. (I tend rely on real life references alot. Trying to branch out to stylised drawing would be cool.)

What happened next were these little sketches on post-it notes. I draw on them first before committing paper because...it's fun :)

Also in this case, this is a comic, so I could rearrange the drawings how I liked, so this was actually goated.

In the second image, see another case of liking the lineart more than the final. I had half a mind to keep that sketch of Spy and paint over it, but that wasn't watercolour paper, so no... :(

I was surprised how well the sketches turned out. Bloody hell, I'm an artistic genius! Now lets see how that translates to paint, eh? Well, you already know.

Some things to improve on, personally, is to make the lineart cleaner next time, so the paint doesn't mix with the pencil to make this weird greyish colour. Anatomy, always. Clothing folds is another big one. And finally, time management. Man, art is a passion, but damn does having too little time screw my art quality over. Well as they say, scarcity breeds innovation.

If you've made it this far, I am putting a virtual turtle (vurtle) in your hand, because turtles are cool, and you are too.

As a bonus bonus to this info-dump, have the original concept sketch while I was feeling out how to draw Demo in formal Scottish suit and kilt.

THAT IS ALL.

#tf2bigbang2023 #tf2 #demoman #tf2 spy #demospy #bomb voyage #tf2 demoman #might add image descriptions later if people want

[womaninwinter]

Writing vs Visual Art

Prompts from @insidethekaleidoscope: if you both write and make visual art, how would you compare the experiences?

Have you always done both or is one a more recent hobby?

I've always been doodler and a storyteller, but it's only recently that I started thinking of them as Art. When I was a kid, I thought I was going to be a writer. When I was a teen, I thought I was going to be an artist. And now I'm writing again.

2. Do you prefer one over the other? Why?

I am a better (more practiced) writer than artist, so I am generally happier with the results of my writing than my drawing/painting. At the moment I'm on a writing kick, but there was definitely a long period where I preferred visual art, and I think this also had to do with the online spaces I was hanging out in. When I'm in fandom spaces, the primary way I can contribute is writing, so I tend to do that. When I was not into fandoms, and was just more generally into Insta art communities, I was seeing a lot of art, so I was doing a lot of art.

3. Are you drawn to the same themes in both?

Hm. Now, I never thought of myself as having Themes in my visual art, again because I'm not that good at it and thus I don't have a great deal of control. However, there are definite stylistic commonalities. My thought process tends towards gothic/intricate/exaggerated/intense and both my art and my writing have those characteristics.

4. Do you see them as connected practices?

This is funny. I've never thought about them as connected, mostly because I only seem to have the time/energy to do one creative hobby at a time. The times when I produce a lot of art are the times when my writing is fallow and vice versa. That said, I think that producing visual art sometimes helps unstick me in my writing, but then again, so does writing longhand on paper, so possibly it's just easier to be creative when I'm not taking psychic damage from the screen.

5. Do you feel more confident in one than the other?

As is probably obvious from my answers so far, I'm much more confident in writing than drawing/painting, but this is mostly because I've had more practice and training in writing. I've had almost no formal art lessons (until a couple of years ago when I did a life-painting class, which did actually rule), but writing was part of my education all the way up, and then it became part of my job, as a translator. Wish I had more time to practice/learn art, but alas, the brain worms are dead set on writing right now.

6. Do you do both at once or do you have periods of time where you only write or only make art?

Also mostly already answered. I can do both, if I really make a conscious effort to build it in, but it takes a lot of discipline and I don't have much of that. I really wish I had the brain space to do both, because I love painting and I miss it. But I do still make art in that I doodle constantly - all my notebooks have little scribbles in the margins, of castles and funny little people and flowers. My work diary is stuffed full of little scraps of paper like this.

7. Does one come easier than the other?

I would be tempted to say writing, but it really depends on what type of art or writing I'm doing. I doodle without thinking or even meaning to. If I have a pen and paper, the difficulty is stopping my hand from drawing. But a big writing project (like a chapter of a fic for example) comes more easily to me than an artistic project.

8. Do you feel more invested in one than the other?

This also varies over time and I think is hugely influenced by what I'm getting more feedback about/what forms part of my social life. At present, my social circle really revolves around writing to a great extent, so I'm super invested in that. But up until very recently, my answer would have been 100% the other way around. I have a drawer full of sketchbooks that I was so so painfully proud of.

9. Does one medium feel more true to you or representative of who you are as a person?

I don't think so, although I think I do tend to be more surprised to see myself coming out in my art. I'm often very conscious of what I'm doing in my writing, and I'm usually aware of a lot of what I'm revealing about myself in it. Because I'm less in control of my art, it's always a surprise to see how specific it is to me, that unbeknownst to myself, I was drawing an experience that I was having.

10. Do you decorate your house with your art and do you reread your writing?

I was going to say 'no' to decorating my house and then I looked up to the right at the massive portrait from my life-painting class stuck up on my wall and rethought that answer. So yes to the art, but not a whole lot. I do tend to reread my writing until I'm sick of it. And then I leave it a few months and come back reread it and think "oh hell ya, this girl knows my tastes exactly." (Actually, maybe this is why I'm less happy to decorate with my art. I'm not really good enough to cater to my own tastes there.)

11. What do you find the experiences have in common?

Flow state I think. It's been a long time since I reached it for either medium (creativity's always in bits and snatches with me, because that's generally all I have time for. It's easier for me to write 100 words though then it is to do a 10-minute sketch.) but the sensation of being totally absorbed, of not noticing time passing, and the burning pride and joy when you produce something good is the same in both cases.

All done! Thank you Mo for this very interesting and much needed exercise in self-reflection. I think I'll draw something now!

#art talk #reflecting with the help of Mo

[secretsappyabode]

Fuck it it’s MY house I GET to make silly little fics about my fave turtle family. The POV will be in second person, but this is specifically about my insert rather than a generic x reader fic yknow?

I’m gonna try make a head canon/ fic for each member of the family, so everyone will get their own post basically. First up is Mikey.

In the past 5 years of…let’s call it “travelling”, you never expected to find friends, let alone a family

And yet here you are, getting roped into… whatever it is these turtles get roped into

Still, you have to admit, it’s nice not being on your own. Finally having company for once. It takes time to adjust, but eventually you go from bringing your dish to your room and eating alone, to actually joining them at the dinner table! And talking to them! Go you!!

Lord, since when did a group of teenagers intimidate you? You’re in your 20s for god sake

Your travels had made you more reserved, more serious, and survival mode hasn’t turned off yet. You’re not the silly, joyful, positive person you once were a few years ago, as much as you wish you could go back to what you used to be.

And now you’re living in the same quarters as a group of turtles who are anything but serious. They’re fun, goofy, and have this sincerity with each other that makes you feel the pit in your stomach grow because you yearn for that connection. You ache for even a moment of simple validity of your friendship with them.

But can you have it? Do you even belong with them? Can you even call yourself a friend? An acquaintance even? You feel a bit out of place…

But they don’t seem to think so. To them, you fit in just right.

Mikey

The first to warm up to you. He’s not sure himself, but he was somehow getting some good vibes from you.

Your initial reservation didn’t bother him, you find. Apparently the purple clad turtle is quite similar in disposition. He would ask you as many questions as possible, to which you listen quietly and answer casually.

You liked his youthful personality. So enthusiastic and earnest, it made you a little jealous. But he never clashed with your mellow energy, in fact he complimented yours. (You wish you had some of that energy. You miss being positive)

You don’t know how he did it, but he somehow figured out your drawing hobby. Damn it, this was supposed to be a private thing. “You’re an artist and you didn’t tell me??? WE COULD HAVE BEEN ARTS AND CRAFTS BUDDIES THIS WHOLE TIME??”

You sheepishly reveal your sketches and he excitedly shows his designs. This turns into art trades which turns into art sessions where you talk about your processes together. He teaches you some really good shading tips. You teach him about expressions and form. You feel good about your art for once.

If the teens have one thing in common, they love your hugs. Mikey is the first to know what they feel like.

It happened to you suddenly, where he was thanking you for some odd favour you did for him and he wrapped you up in a tight hug. You were caught off guard, but eventually wrapped your arms across his shell. But as soon as you did that he quickly retracted from you.

“Shoot! Sorry, I should have asked first. Usually I’m really good with this but I just got so carried away and-.”

You tell him not to worry about it. It’s been so long since you received a hug, or any sort of positive touch for that matter. You just weren’t used to it, is all.

“Oh! Okay! In that case, wanna try again?” You’re prepared this time and bring your arms around him again. He leans his head on your chest and you feel him snuggle in a bit. This…is nice. You try to ignore the long years you endured without any sort of positive affirmation or care or sign of love or anything like that. You ignore the fact that you haven’t felt a hug this warm and close in a long time. You’re gonna ignore the wetness in your eyes now.

Mikey uses the “youngest sibling” puppy dog eyes on you and always tries to pull the “baby of the family” move. This is to no avail. No matter how hard he tries, you just don’t give in. This makes it harder when the other turtles want you to do something for them (and totally not against the rules)

“How is this possible?? Mikey is our secret weapon he ALWAYS works.” “How do my undefeatable little brother moves not work on you??” he wails. “Jokes on you, brother. For you see, I am the youngest sister in MY family, so therefore I am immune to your tricks!”

“SHOCKED GASP” “Dangit!” “Aw come on!” “GAHH! So powerful……”

Eventually you meet the infamous Dr Feelings the more you show yourself. He’s convinced that you need to “come out of your shell” and “stop isolating yourself” and “allow the help people offer in your life”

That last statement, you tell him that he needs to follow that as well. That he doesn’t have to be the “family therapist” all the time and he’s still young and why is he taking on such emotional problems bro he is 15 who let a 15 year old tackle everyone’s mental health?? You tell him that it’s ok if it all gets to be too much sometimes.

He gets quiet at that. Silently absorbing your words in his mind. It feels a little eerie if you’re completely honest. Seeing him sit there fiddling with his “therapist” glasses and averting eye contact, it’s like someone stripped away his personality and pasted on somebody else’s.

All you can do is stare intently at him, hoping he gets your message. You’ve been where he is now, and you know how rough it can get. You’d hate to see him fall down that same rabbit hole, and you’d be damned if you would let that happen to him. After everything that’s happened to you, to him, to this family. He has to know what you’re saying. He has to listen.

Mikey takes off his glasses and you notice a shimmer in his eyes. “You know what? I think….Dr Feelings really needed to hear that.”

After that night, he comes to you whenever he feels his “tazz isn’t very razzy” so to speak. Something about you and what you said just makes him feel more comfortable to admit those not-so-good thoughts around you. “Maybe it’s my inherent wisdom” you joke. “You can only say that if you’re like “old” old. Like OLD old old. Dad old” (you hear splinter shout from the other room)

“Hey come on I’ve got more wisdom in me than the average dad.” “Oh yeah? Impart some sagely wisdom, your wisely wisdomness” “You stink” “THATS NOT WISDOM”

Expect a lot of hugs from him. Everyone in this family is pretty affectionate, but he makes up 90% of it

You used to go on errands by yourself, but now…maybe some company wouldn’t hurt

He’s the first one you invite, making it his and your Thing ™️. Errand time is bonding time. It’s sacred.

And then the other turtles found out and now it’s practically a family outing

During the early days when you joined them on missions, he would show off a little bit (maybe not as much as Leo did, but you could tell his tricks were getting more showy)

He just wants you to be proud of him

He’d call for you to watch him as he swung his weapon at their enemies, showing no remorse as he kicked their asses

Only to turn around like “Hey did you see me?? Was I cool or what??”

All you can do is stare gobsmacked as you give a thumbs up.

Mikey was the first for everything in your friendships with the Hamato clan. Your first friend, the first to confide into, the first you indulged in your hobbies with, the first you personally invited to hang out with-

He was your littlest brother.

And you would do anything for him. For all of them.

#turtle bros #mikester #dribbles and drabbles #MAN this has been in my drafts for a while phew #anyway let’s see how this lil series goes

[gremlins-hotel]

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 　ANON LOVE　 :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

Just wanted to stop by and share what I love about you and it's your art! I could probably ramble on and on and on about your art for pages and pages but only a smidgen of it would even be coherent, especially when writing about the way you draw Russia! And I can't remember the name of the AU, but that render of America standing under I think a sign in the desert? The lighting, the drama, and I'm not sure if you have fics too, but just from that image alone, I just know I would read the HECK out of that!! I also love your archaeology Jones blog and all the stuff I get to learn, something that has to be one of my favorite things about this fandom, thank you for being such a wonderful part of it!

Now spread the love! (But no pressure!) You can tag someone to say what you love about them, or if you're shy like me, drop some love as anon in their inbox! There's never too much love for us to share with each other 💖

so i've had this sitting in my inbox for nearly two weeks, trying to think of how to respond. nothing eloquent came. so i am thanking you from the bottom of my cringe-loving heart and here to spread some of that love in the most obnoxious way possible.

@ironicorange i can't not start with my goof squad, my beloved, my sunbeam. i love you lots, more than i can say. thank you for always letting me be in your dms with insane words and ideas, we both grow closer to delirium each day. watch your back you whore i'm going to steal your hands so i can one day draw like you.

@abbittheturtle my beloved irl bestie, this creature would be wayward without you. you are a fucking jewel and i will eat your art at every opportunity. also seeing you be happy in working with metal and jewelry has been amazing. i hope you continue to enjoy it! i'm wishing you love and luck with your move and good luck in our upcoming semester! i will be coming up there. this is a threat.

@temtamoo our romerica echo chamber and transatlantic 5g connection is so strong dude. your ideas are deep and your art is stunning, i love to hear from you always, regardless of the topic.

@artistically-hershie from late-night crazy au ideas to invading your workplace establishment to give you a soul-crushing hug, seeing messages from you so we can both be giggly and nuts is the best. also ugh, bro, teach me to draw.

@sunnysssol clown duo, clown twins, the dumbass squad. i will slobber for your oc and your art right here, right now. can i just say i specifically love how you color eyes. like bro!! the sol eye stare. trademark it.

@dusklikescats to you, who was one of my first more steadfast buddies after rejoining hetalia, i know you aren't into it much now, but i still light up seeing your messages. you have an energy unmatched and a contagious laugh.

@snackbar-chez-paro i drooled over your art for a long time dude and similar to miq, you became a fast friend. i always adore seeing your headcanons on discord even if you say wonderful things my tiny anglo brain doesn't always understand. you're awesome!

@irlusa you, good sir, are a fucking angel. and i will smooch you on the lips. stop living so far away!! i'm gonna fight the state. you are far kinder than you let yourself think and your art style is so fucking soft i'm gonna sleep on it.

@picturespurple-68 i'm sending you to the camps for revealing my classified secrets (code for i'm definitely going to watch more shows and movies with you someday). you are so very quick on your feet with ideas and always have fun ones to share. i could slurp up your writing like a fuckign smoothie it's so wonderful. i love our conversations and our hangouts.

there are so many more people i would love to ping but then this post would be far too long. return rebloggers and likers and people in my askbox, those whose posts i see on my dash and interact with, names i have come to recognize and associate with the crazy tunglrites, i salute you. and ily guys.

#callsign gremlin checking in #i'm feeling so fucking soft rn it's ridiculous goddamn ily guys #hhrrnngg

[rurukatt]

Letters to Tacitus Kilgore

Just a couple of letters Sophia sent to Arthur while she spent some time away from the gang. I did these as a little writing practice since I don’t really have the energy for much more. Enjoy~

[October 1894]

Dear Arthur,

It has been a while since I wrote a letter to anyone, and as always, I find myself not knowing what to say. So much has happened and yet barely anything worth mentioning comes to mind when I try to write.

I am doing well. The room I'm renting is nice (unlike the owner of the house, but that's a story for another time), and they're giving me a lot of work at the doctor's office, which I don't mind at all. It helps me keep my mind off things. The old doctor is a real gentleman, his son… He's insufferable, Arthur. Talks a lot and thinks himself more knowledgeable than his father, but he doesn't even know what he's talking about most of the time. The only person he's able to impress is himself, but that seems to be enough for him.

I had hoped my time with you all would be longer, but nevertheless I am grateful for what I got and I miss you every day. You, most of all, but sometimes I miss Hosea even more. Please give him my regards and thanks. Were it not for him, I wouldn't have this opportunity right now.

Yours fondly, Sophia Ashe

* 

[November 1894]

Dear Arthur,

We had our first snow yesterday. It was a wonderful sight to wake up to, although the heavy snowfall made it difficult to get into town in time. I hope the weather is treating you well, wherever you are.

The snow also means I cannot take Sunflower for her usual morning rides anymore. I can clearly see she hasn’t been well, and now that the roads are too slippery, I don’t want to risk an injury on top of that. It pains me to see her like this, but I’m resolved to nurse her back to health. I cannot and will not lose this horse, Arthur, she’s everything to me. I promised I’d take good care of her when you gave her to me, and I intend to honor my word, even if it means sleepless nights and empty pockets.

Aside from this, I’m fine, and I hope you are as well. Please forgive me for sharing my troubles with you, I do not want you to worry about me when you doubtless have more pressing matters to attend to.

Please take care.

Sincerely yours, Sophia Ashe

* 

[January 1895]

Dear Arthur,

I wish you and everyone in the camp a very Happy New Year!

I hope you’re well. Life here isn’t too exciting, I can’t say much has changed since I sent my last letter, except for this growing sense of loneliness. One of the girls I’m working with, Annie, is getting married soon and will be moving to another town. We’ve been getting along so well, and of course I’m happy for her and wishing her the best, but at the same time it fills me with sorrow because I will be left alone once again.

At least the days are getting longer. Inspired by you, I have taken up drawing again recently and while my artistic abilities are not on par with yours, it’s helping me get through this melancholic time of the year. I have also decided to expand my horizons and got myself an easel and some other supplies for painting, hopefully I’ll be able to put them to use soon. Enclosed are some of the newest additions of my little gallery, I hope they bring you at least a little joy. I miss seeing your smile.

Sincerely yours, Sophia

* 

[February 1895]

My dear Arthur,

I must apologize for my delayed letter, work consumes most of my time these days and I rarely find the time to put my thoughts on the paper in a manner that’s worth reading.

Annie got married and moved away with her husband, and here I am, on my own again. Oh, what I would do to have people I can trust around me. I miss you more and more every day and I wish I heard anything from you or was given even a small sign that you’re still alive. All this silence has left me doubting the effectiveness of postal services, but it may as well be something else, I am not sure. At least this is what I keep telling myself.

I pray for your safety every day and I will not stop praying until I know all is well with you.

Your sincere friend, Sophia

P.S. Sunflower is getting better. She’s starting to resemble her old self and it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulder.

* 

[March 1895]

My dearest Arthur,

Spring has come again, and with it, the longest winter of my life is finally over – just as I hope my time in this town is drawing to a close.

I rode out with Sunflower a couple days ago to see the first flowers in the woods. Words can hardly express what a wonderful feeling it is to witness life spring forth once more, to cherish these things that seem so mundane… the gentle breeze, the little green buds on the branches, the dewdrops on the grass. Few people can appreciate that, and I am constantly reminded that you are one of them. I would give anything to have you here by my side and watch you fill your journal with pictures of all of those small wonders nature has to offer.

My heart is aching in ways I never thought possible. The fates of my previous letters are unknown to me and I doubt you will receive this one either, yet I’m still choosing to make a fool of myself for one last time and tell you this: you will always be in my heart. Even though sometimes it felt like I was throwing myself against a stone wall, the man I saw through the cracks made up for everything. I want you to know that your friendship meant the world to me. It still does, and I regret not telling you sooner.

I keep holding out hope that I will see you again one day, whenever you decide to find your way back to me.

Forever yours, Sophia

* 

* 

* 

#my art #my writing #oc: sophia #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 oc #rdo oc #as always we have lil illustrations for these too :V #me: i'm taking the weekend off so my wrist can heal #also me: does these #there shouldn't be any grammar mistakes in there but in case there are I'M SORRY

[soleilnomoon]

i'm back. well, technically, I never left. I hereby submit a formal request for an art college type AU with Usopp needing to draw someone (reader or a strawhat of your choice) for an assignment. idc if it's sfw or nsfw cause ya know i trust your judgement. thankies!

babey, babey, babey art college au?? usopp??? i loved writing every word; this took me a month & a half, but yk how it is, i always want perfection for u — and this is far from it, but hear me out...૮₍  ˶•⤙•˶ ₎ა ok...i got nothin', chief. ily, siempre tho (u already know) 💓💓💓

1.5k words, gn reader (no pronouns), sfw (shock, gasp, awe), slightly suggestive, fluff???, tiny bit of angst (maybe a little more idk), 18+, mdni; art college au!, usopp is a shy coward and reader is full of sass & can't read the room; nothing major, death mention and that's about it. a very tame kaia production, i think

to be an artist is to willingly carry the burdens of the world, to mold their creations with clumsy, earnest fingers, to sculpt an absurd idea of the truth with precision, to paint the fleeting feelings of the masses without restraint, and to scrape any unnecessary remains onto a stained, concrete floor.

it's messy; an ordeal that requires dedication, innate talent, and an overwhelming desire to survive.

once upon a time, when everything in his life was still bright and full of promise, his mother often boasted to her friends — and almost anyone who would listen, really — about his artistic prowess. on days where she had energy, she’d say, take a look, he’s done it again; and when she was weary, but still proud, oh, goodness, you’re truly a wonder; but, the most poignant moment, the one phrase — question, rather — that stuck with him years later, even after her death, was: do you know the color of a person’s soul, usopp? the true color? i wish i could see you paint it. i know it will be spectacular.

it's not grief that drives him to pour his heart into his work, and it’s not out of any residual feelings of sadness, but because of his mother’s last words — he still remembers how he strained to hear her speak, how he begged her to repeat herself, how he cried himself to sleep for days and days. he’s a night owl out of spite — to chase his inner demons away, to not let her haunt his heart more than she already does — and he’s committed himself to mastering a style that’s uniquely his, so that he can tell his story the proper way.

after weeks of looking for a model for his latest assignment, he finds you by chance — with charcoal-stained fingertips that you constantly wipe on your jeans, a smudge on your cheek from when you rubbed it minutes ago, hair haphazardly thrown into a messy bun, curls poking out everywhere, the pinnacle of concentration and rebellion.

you, who frequently defies your professors’ suggestions, who reminds them time and time again that no you can’t simply change your piece because it doesn’t follow their guidelines, and no you can’t commit to turning in assignments on time because “art is freedom, why are you so persistent?”

and you refuse to be confined into their neatly labeled boxes.

he wishes he could have a tiny piece of your boldness, of your dedication to remaining true to yourself, of your outlandish outlook on life where you defy expectations without a care.

or he thinks so, anyway.

after the other students have filtered out of the classroom, you remain behind, tongue pressed against the inside of your cheek, lips pursed as you consider a new angle for your piece. he watches the quick, messy dark marks that adorn your canvas — you’ve been working on it for hours without rest. your dedication to your craft (to your truth) is admirable, if not a little intense, so much that it’s hard for him to approach you.

cowardice seeps through his bloodstream, pumping directly into his heart, making it more difficult for him to speak — let alone to ask you for help.

but you glance at him out of the corner of your eyes, lashes partially obscuring your eyes when you blink slowly.

he’s always believed that art is always imperfectly perfect, but you? he doubts he really knows the true meaning of art now.

“h-hey,” he says after a while, throat dry, palms moist and unsure. you pivot and stare, a curious smile prancing onto your lips, the edges curling impishly before you respond cheekily.

“after staring at me for so long, that’s all you have to say?”

you click your tongue in jest, and his face burns painfully — embarrassment eating him alive, making him fidget with the strap of his bag, where he nearly falls over the stool behind him. you attempt to quiet your laughter, but you can’t help yourself. he’s always like that — fidgety, lost, boisterous at times, but also a little serious. you wonder if he spends his life seeped in his passiveness, and he wonders if you’ve always been this vibrant and honest — reminding him of a few of his closest friends who never shy away from the truth no matter what it may be.

“chill, i’m just kidding,” you say when you realize he might’ve taken you seriously. “it’s no big deal, really.” you’ve learned that there’s no harm in people looking at you, no matter what their reasoning is. “did you need something?” because he rarely speaks to you, and he certainly doesn’t talk to you like that.

usopp shifts on his feet, tongue suddenly too big for his mouth, his words clumsily knocking against the back of his teeth; but after inhaling deeply, a bit of his anxiety rolls off of his skin, drips down to the floor — out of sight, out of mind.

“i, um,” he rubs the back of his neck, warm, russet brown skin still struggling with the overwhelming heat that’s permanently settled on his face. “well, see… i haven’t found anyone to p-pose for my assignment, so—”

“sure.” your voice is clear, decisive; you barely leave wiggle room for any argument, and that — the sheer oppressive power behind your assertiveness is what terrifies him. your intensity might literally kill him if he’s not careful.

“oh, okay, yeah.” feeling a little more confident, he puts his bag down and grabs his large sketch pad. he sits on the stool and motions for you continue as you were.

with raised brows, you shoot him an unreadable look, but don’t offer any clarification. you face your canvas again and attack it with vigor, dropping the charcoal and opting to use oil pastels instead. you don’t think as you move your arm, instead allowing the flow to come naturally as you begin dotting colors all around; you’ve been in an impressionist sort of mood, wanting to encapsulate the unhurried movements of field of flowers surrounded in flames. you’re not quite sure what possesses you, but it came to you in a dream and you couldn’t stop until you brought it to life.

during your freshman year, someone callously remarked that you were demented, a lost cause — someone to watch out for. but usopp begs to differ; as he sits and observes, twirling his conté stick around his fingers before settling down in front of the easel and sketching lightly. he notices that you tend to move around a lot, bouncing on your feet, as if the floor is too hot for you to tolerate at times; you also talk to yourself, which he doesn’t find unusual because he also talks to himself.

maybe you both have more in common than he originally thought. for some reason, the corners of his lips twitch, he finds himself smiling, albeit bashfully, at the idea.

you peek over at him as you work, admiring his steadfast dedication, the precise movements of his wrist, the delicate way he holds the conté stick. you’ve never cared about the work of others, but you’d be lying to yourself if you say you’re not even remotely curious about how he sees you.

usopp works in silence for about thirty minutes before you decide to stop for the night.

he’s done several gesture drawings of you, one more animated than the last, wanting to capture the fluidity and beauty of your movements without interruption. you might just be the perfect subject to study, if he’s honest. and while he definitely has more than enough to work with, he doesn’t really want to stop sketching you.

he knows he can’t say that, so he keeps it to himself, allowing the words to die down on the back of his tongue as he pushes the easel back to its proper place.

after leaving your signature messy scrawl on the bottom corner of your picture, you walk over to glance at his work, but he’s already grabbed the sketch pad and shoved it into his portfolio case. he clears his throat several times, almost comically, but you refrain from laughing — this time.

“thank you for your assistance,” usopp says with a grin; he wears his false bravado with ease, but he’s tragically unconvincing. you smile encouragingly at him and wink.

“anytime, cutie.”

while you contemplate whether or not you’ll showcase this particular piece of yours, he stammers over his words, mumbles something in haste and, quite literally, scurries away. you’re not sure if you’ve permanently scared him off, but you have a feeling he’ll come back and ask for that favor again. as he makes his way out of the building, nearly tripping down the stares with all of his hurried movements, he tries to remind himself that he has to be more careful. he’s sure you almost saw through his act; all of that courage deflates and he slows his steps, glancing over at the building again, wondering if maybe — just maybe — he’ll find a chance to show you his finished work.

it’s not the answer to the question that he’s been struggling with for the entirety of his adolescence and adult life, but it’s certainly a good start.

#sora ty for being so patient w my slow writing ily forevs #fic request #one piece imagine #one piece fluff #one piece angst #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #usopp x reader #usopp x y/n #usopp fluff #usopp angst #one day usopp will be a brave man; today is not that day #me? writing fluff? in this economy? it's more likely than u think.

[autisticempathydaemon]

I'd love to get a match if you're still doing them!!

I'm currently listening to American Teenagers by Ethel Cain. There's something about the lyrics that remind me of my angsty teen years. I'm really stuck on the lyrics "crying in the bleachers and I said it was fun", super relatable lol. I'm also stuck in Hummingbird by The Haunting. My favorite lyrics are "I wish you'd walk in and I miss you pillow talk"

My ennagram type is INFP

I love video essays, the longer the better, but I especially like the ones about videogames I'll never play. I just finished one about no more heroes that was fun.

My go to way to fall asleep is my fan on full blast, covered in a large blanket, and kicking my foot back and forth until I fall asleep, which is pretty fast since the motion soothes me for whatever reason.

I love the Guy confession audio. I love Guy's energy and how he goes from light hearted to fairly serious. He seems so chill and funny and his confession was so sweet.

I'm not a big fan of David. He's cool, but I like guys who are more gentle and emotionally open I guess?

I'd love to be best friends with Gavin because he's so supportive and fun. I think he'd be tons of fun to hangout with. Or Huxley, he's so sweet.

I've researched criminal minds more times than I can count. I love crime shows and such, but I'm not a fan of the personal character drama. I just want to see people solve crime. I know the endings to them all but still like them.

When I'm tired I love to ramble about human behavior. I'm really shy and bad at social interactions so it's usually me hyper analyzing an interaction and pointing out all the ways society's social standards are weird, at least to me lol.

Other stuff- I'm a fairly artistic person, I love paint and drawing, I also enjoy cooking. I'm shy and soft spoken in public but loud when I'm around people I like. I also love sleeping and naps. I'm a bit of a pushover and need people to like me but do like helping people. I also love listening to music, picking just 1 song to write about was hard so I picked two because I like so many, sorry!

Thanks!!

Okay, so hear me out. He gets a little bit of a bad rap because of the whole Sadism’s Hold thing, but you and Ivan, specifically FlyBoi!Ivan, would be so cute together, give him a CHANCE-

I get the irony of pairing you with someone who could have once been on Criminal Minds, I swear, but I feel like Ivan is a wonderfully gentle soul when not being otherwise manipulated. His normal voicemails are proof of that, that he’s thoughtful and communicative and not afraid of being vulnerable and putting his heart out there, you know? This would wonderfully complement the sensitivity that INFPs are known for.

Overall, I think you’d have a lovely, sweet, domestic sort of life together. Ivan also strikes me as a people pleaser which is great because when you pair people pleasers together, you get a couple who consistently looks out for one another’s needs. He travels for work and never forgets to call home or ask what new creative project you’re working on, never lets you forget he’s thinking about and missing you.

Song:

You could be dancing on tabletops/ Wearing high-heels/ Drinking until the world/ Spins like a wheel/ But tonight your apartment/ Had so much appeal/ Who needs stars?/ We've got a roof/ But there's nothing/ Like doing nothing/ With you

I don’t have a firm grasp of what genre Ivan would like, but I do like the slower, swaying vibes of this song for you. It’s sweet, relaxing, the soundtrack to when he finally comes home from a work trip and is grateful to see you napping on the couch in the dimming, sunsetting light of your living room.

Runner-Ups:

Morgan is a runner-up because he has a lot of similar vibes to Flyboi!Ivan, though I don’t know him well enough to match him confidently and he doesn’t strike me as forthcoming with his love and emotions. Cam was a closer candidate if I had not really liked the domestic vibes of you with a human or unempowered person.

note: if you don’t like Ivan and I took too big of a risk I am SO SORRY but he’s a darling and I love him he’s so lovable

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

#redactedasmr #redactedverse #redacted asmr #redactedaudio #redacted audio #redacted #busybee matches

[thefaiao]

    About two months ago my laptop’s HDD died. I couldn’t really recover anything in the moment, and just left it unplugged inside the case until I could take it somewhere to check if it the files were truly unsalvageable. I wasn’t that annoyed by it. I had backed up most important files relating to game work, and I didn’t care too much about drawings that I already posted. I wouldn’t mind backing them up, but I wouldn’t lose sleep over it since they are posted somewhere already.     This HDD actually had been on a long journey with me. It, together with the laptop, carried me through a whole year of living alone and isolated for everyone I knew. It had been having problems since forever but it soldiered through most of it. It’s actually impressive how long it lasted, to be fair. But any times it would show hints of death then, I’d have a nervous breakdown. My anxiety and isolation were at a critical level. Drinking some Monster sent me to the hospital for pure anxiety. So all the bad stuff blended together at the time, and I couldn’t bother to fix all of it. When you are living day by day and hanging on by a thread on all sides, every loss can feel very major.     It only died after I moved back home. The worst part about losing the HDD was having to reinstall all the programs, and relearn my routine. When working on long-term projects, routine is really the only thing that can carry you further. Games are composed of so many different pieces. The amount of programs you have to use really incentivise terrible habits, like leaving the computer on eternally, or having multiple programs open at all times.     When I got my first drawing tablet, my thought process was: “If I put this in front of me, eventually I’ll draw on it, even if out of boredom.” This actually worked. I think that by leaving all the different programs open, I am hoping to finish the game out of boredom. But it doesn’t work as well when you are on your mid-twenties and the weight of life starts creeping up your back. It just feels like you are stuck in some sort of hell, and if you aren’t using those programs or drawing, you aren’t really doing anything. I wasn’t a teen trying to teach myself how to draw like those cool internet artists; rather, I was an adult, with a faulty income source, alone, in the middle of nowhere.     I think moving out of my Mom’s apartment was a form of attempted suicide. I think I just wanted to leave the world, make the game or die. Games take longer than it’d take me to die. Maybe I didn’t know this consciously, but deep down I think I understood. It’s hard not to feel like a failure.     My parents always let me follow my whims. My Dad supports me, but I feel he sees me as more of a symbol. I don’t think he could describe my interests in detail, or the person I am. I am similarly distant to him, but I know he likes Blade Runner, and records, and running, and pretending to smoke big cigars. I like Blade Runner too. I wish he saw that I’m happy he likes Blade Runner, because I got to like Blade Runner because of that.     My Mom does understand me, and is able to describe who I am. But I don’t ever feel she is happy with my choices. She doesn’t mention it actively, perhaps out of tiredness, but she wishes I had a normal job, or had chosen another subject that not games. I don’t think the drawings or the commissions I’ve done mean anything to her. I don’t think they mean anything to anyone outside of my circles... I managed to support myself with them, but I wouldn’t say it was a completely successeful endeavour. I think she sees the game as a waste of time and energy, especially if it doesn’t make any money. It might not make any money.    It’s understandable. She won’t be here forever. I need a stable source of money, not just enough to pay some bills, sometimes. I feel I almost got tricked by the world into following my dream. I felt everything was telling me I should be honest with myself, and that I should chase after the things that mattered to me. So that’s what I did, and what I’ve been doing still. I’m not sure where I’m going in life. I think I just heard what I wanted to hear, and I always wanted to chase after a dream.    Two days ago, my new SSD died. I had used it to boot the laptop back up after the HDD died. I had already gotten into the routine again. It was brand new, and gifted by my friend to me. I didn’t ask for it, she just did it because she knew I needed it. I often complain about life, but thinking back now, this is truly something not everyone gets. It was brand new.    It died suddenly. I lost a good chunk of work on the game. We are getting closer to finishing the demo, so each part is major. I may have lost a model of the boss. This time I did have a nervous breakdown because of the loss of the laptop. The truth is that this past year has been setbacks after setbacks, and I feel my time ticking down.    Money worries from both my parents. Dog getting a tracheostomy, and all the medical care surrounding it. Having to live apart from my girlfriend, which I am dedicated to being with as long as I can. Having to constantly move to other places, without any certainty for the future, for reasons internal and external. And death, death everywhere.     I’ve gotten the habit of looking at my dog knowing he is living on borrowed time, getting sad, and petting him just a bit. I think that through all of this, I do a similar thing to the game. I look at it. Wonder how much time I have left to keep working and polishing it before moving on. Be happy about how far its come. Notice how much needs work on closer inspection. Get back to work.     When I spend a few weeks away from the game I noticed how much I care for it, and how much I like what it is. I don’t think everyone will notice why this matters to me, but maybe that is fine. And similarly, I feel like this about my dog. He may pass away soon, but he came so far, lived fifteen years and had many adventures. And I got to take care of him. So it’s not so bad. And he still barks everyday, and he still takes sunbaths. He still thinks, and decides.     The people who’ve been with me despite all of this puzzle me. My girlfriend has stuck with me through these decisions, and always says I am destined to make great things. The programmer, whom co-develops the game with me, has stuck with me and this game, and is willing to keep going as far as we need to make it complete. Things like this make me wonder if my dream is actually possible and real. And that I can brave through all these setbacks.    Is the game really that good? Is my work that good? Does it even matter if it is? I often show it to people and they don’t understand what’s good about it. All I know for now is that despite everything, I want to work on it still. I want to make this weird dream come true. I won’t get to play a game like the one I’m making, but maybe someone else out there will get to play it the way I wish I could.

[elnierah]

Announcement of Writing Hiatus, Yet Too a New Adventure

TLDR: Pausing my writing/fanfics for an indefinite amount of time to pursue drawing. Not abandoning my projects, but need a change of pace.

Hello, my lovely readers! Long time no see...?

This post has been brewing for quite a while, but I've been my usual stubborn self and refused to publicly acknowledge my struggles until now. I gave myself a deadline to make a decision, and that deadline is now here, hence this announcement post. However, to explain a little... Since October of last year ( 2023 ), I've been battling against and contending with an intense bout of writer's block - pretty much right after the 2nd remastered chapter of YCTL released. I also wasn't enjoying myself in the fandom, nor was I content with some of the decisions Atlus was making at the time. With those combined, I genuinely debated leaving/deleting all of my work, as all it brought me was misery. I won't go into too much detail as I don't like airing negativity, but I ultimately decided a break from it all was required, from SMS and such. After a much-needed break and unforeseen support, my volatile emotions ebbed and I managed to see the light again, yet when I tried to return to writing, I felt my heart wasn't as enthusiastic about it as it once was. I even attempted to begin production on Yusuke's B'day fic earlier, thinking that maybe it was the chapter of YCTL holding me down, but that didn't really help either. I was and still am apathetic towards my writing. I don't feel excitement, enjoyment or anything joyus towards it anymore. All I currently feel is frustration and annoyance whenever I try. It's easier to chalk this up to writer's block, because, well, that's ultimately what it is, but it's quite a severe case, unfortunately.

Around New Years, a friend of mine gave me their old drawing touchpad/tablet as they had upgraded, and I've been enjoying experimenting with it and tapping into my childhood hobby/interest since. While doing so definitely has those natural creative frustrations, I've been able to aspire beyond them, and that is ultimately what made me realise what creation should feel like again, and all of the above. It was akin to a wake up moment, one where I realised my relationship with writing as a whole had degraded and just trying to 'willpower' through it was impossible. I do not wish to abandon my projects or writing as a whole, but the reality of the matter is I cannot create anything of worth in my current state - trying to force myself will only lead to hatred, and I really don't want to lose my love for writing more than I already have.

These last 3 months have made it clear I need a change, and so I debated how to proceed forward and ultimately decided it would be wise for me to put my projects on an indefinite hiatus, yet instead of simply mulling over that fact, I should shift my creative energy towards other methods and explore different creative outlets whilst my burnout heals. I, unfortunately, cannot give a timeframe for when I may return to writing, as these issues have a mind of their own, but I'm hopeful this will be a step in the right direction. In the meantime, I plan to pursue drawing again as I've found it rather fun, despite the lulls, but this will primarily be a 'behind the scenes' venture, as I am still very much a fledgling artist and do not harbour any confidence regarding posting my artworks. I'm hopeful pouring my creative energy into something else can facilitate my growth, instead of remaining stagnant as I have the last few months.

As for my accounts, I plan to resume my activities on SMS. I've gone dark the last 2.5 months as I really needed it and wished to spend time with loved ones without these mental pressures, but now that I can see a path forward, I want to enjoy my place within the fandom again. I'll primarily be doing as I always have, posting miscellaneous stuff and supporting other creative individuals - just without the chapter updates and whatnot. Who knows, I may even post some of my artwork that I find decent enough.

To showcase my dedication to this new adventure, I drew a small fanart and wish to share it with you all! I did want to draw something a little more substantial, but the weather here is brutal and there's some other, unrelated, changes occuring in my life at the moment, so I'm rather busy. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this little piece - a piece indicating my wish to forge ahead, no matter its form! ᕙ(✧ヮ✧)ᕗ

This post has been going on long enough, so I'm going to conclude it with a few more words. But ultimately, I am still very passionate and love P5/shukita/kitashu, the form of which I express it is just going to shift for some time! Thank you all so much for your understanding, I honestly wouldn't be here without you all as your support has been paramount throughout the years! I hope this leads to a fruitful future for us all!

❤️❤️❤️💙💙💙

PS: Yes, I had to draw both variations of the ship as I love them both equally~! ヽ(♥ ³♥)ﾉ

#you cure the light #yctl #I want to draw a piece for P3Rs release #I miss this feeling of burning inspiration #so I'm going to cherish it for as long as i can! #THANK YOU EVERYONE~~~

[hare-beneath-pine]

lately much of the time and energy that would go into my practice is going to art instead (mostly fundamentals, and a bit of fanart). i love that i have rekindled my passion for drawing, just wish i had more time. i get pulled in so many different directions and it's hard to find balance.

the funny thing is, this was spurred on by a sudden interest in Hilma af Klint and other visionary painters, artists who practiced or studied magic, channelled art, etc. this is something i aspire to eventually. but after some experimentation i reached the obvious conclusion that i should become proficient in both disciplines before trying to combine them.

perhaps related to this, i have had little interest in practical magic... for a long while i have just wanted to retreat from the world. but a weekend trip piqued my interest in altered states again. i might just explore dreams and trance for a while. i finally started reading Piranesi and it has some great imagery to latch on to as well.

#hare brained rambling #personal #my practice

[dreyhendyheadquarters]

I know I handed in the last one of these... but I had another idea come to mind. Zaratras being the helpful big brother he is and making Dreyfus realise how Hendy feels about him... by making them kiss. By tripping one of them, by pushing them together, making them get caught under mistletoe together... choice is yours!

That is such a sweet idea @ampedupkaon, he would totally do that if he found out! And handing in more than one asks is totally fine, even one after the other, and sorry this took so long! I’ve just been so busy and had no energy left for drawing. But I did my best to create a quality piece for you, and I hope you like it anyway!

I got lots of ideas from all of the prompts, but I decided to go for the mistletoe idea in the end. I know it’s September and this is kind of Christmas-y, but whatever. If the idea is good, I’m doing it.

So I assumed that this is all happening BF (before Fraudrin), since Zaratras is still around, so I drew them as they were when they were younger. Zaratras has got himself into quite the pickle, but it looks like he’s very happy with the results of his efforts.

Also, ANNOUNCEMENT!

Since summer has ended I’ve gotten much busier with a lot less free time. And I’ve seen (and I’m sure you have too) that I’ve been struggling with keeping up with the requests. So, I am announcing now that I’m going to be taking a break from the Dreyhendy drawing requests. I will finish the remaining ones I’ve gotten, but I will not be doing any more for now. This was an idea I had for something to do during the holidays, but I feel like it could become a burden now, and I don’t want that. I never want this to become a burden for me. This will most likely not be permanent, and it could be something I do during holidays. Even though I will be pausing the requests, that doesn’t mean this blog will be completely dead till Christmas. I might sometimes post some Dreyhendy art I made in the past or something like that every now and then, but not very frequently. Having said all that, I want to thank you all so much for coming on this journey with me, giving your requests and comments and just popping in. It might not seem like much, but I just want to tell you that you’ve all made some artist on the internet so very happy. You’ve all been so amazing and kind, and I’m so glad I’ve met you, every in this small way. Thank you for fueling my obsession with this anime and ship. I hope you understand why I’m taking this break, and I wish you only the best. See you soon!

But for now, I bid you farewell.

#nnt anime #nnt manga #seven deadly sins #dreyfus #the seven deadly sins #sds anime #hendrickson #sds #dreyhendy #nanatsu no taizai #zaratras #mistletoe #kiss #kiss under the mistletoe #tell me what to draw

[starsheild]

Inspiration- 1 Gallery

The halls were quiet, the soft hum of the intermittent lights and the sound of Barricades own pedesteps the only sounds. While the joors were not ideal, these night security rounds at the gallery were an improvement over working the irregular events at the sports arena where he had been assigned before. No over charged patrons, no spoiled younglings throwing snacks, no fights to break up or rioting to try and contain… Just him, his tools, and silent, inanimate charges.

While he would never admit it, Barricade actually appreciated the works of art surrounding him. His optics roamed the walls, drifting over the painting gracing them at carefully calculated intervals. They lingered for a moment on a rendition of the centerpiece of the Crystal Garderns of Praxus. The artist had used ground up crystal in the pigments, bringing the image to life in a way that made the observer feel as though they were looking at the living formations first hand.

Barricade pulled his optics away and forced his pedes to continue on his round. That was not his life anymore. Praxus was closed to him.

He paused at the main entrance, checking the that the doors were locked before circling around the focal point of the vaulted room. The energon fountain was contained and shaped by micro energy fields, allowing it to contract and expand in an every shifting array of patterns that sometimes extended to four times Barricades own height.

Sculptural works dominated the next wing, and these he moved through at a steadier pace. These works did not have a much draw, and his optics slid over them more quickly, merely seeking anything out of the ordinary instead of actually lingering and absorbing. As he turned the corner his steps stuttered and he found himself resetting his optics.

Seated on a bench in front of one of the sculptures was a mech, still enough to be a work himself save that his visor glowed in the dim light and the fact that Barricade knew nothing had been there when he had been making his first round earlier in the dark cycle.

Barricade cleared his vocalizer, setting his tone to firm but not quite threatening as he approached the stranger. “I do not know how you got in, but the gallery is closed. I am going to have to ask you to leave, and return in the light cycle if you wish to view the works here.”

He wasn’t sure that the strange mech heard him, remaining still and silent until Barricade was almost upon him before speaking.

“This’n was my first.”

“If you will not leave I will be forced to con- first?”

The mech waved his servo at the sculpture on the pedestal before him. “First piece ta be displayed ‘n a real gallery. M’ big break, if ya like.”

He turned his helm to look at Barricade, and he security mech felt his jaw drop as recognition set in.

The mech he had assumed to either be a potential thief or vandal by now was none other than the artist Ricochet himself. In an attempt to assure himself that he wasn’t suffering from a minor processor short Barricade looked over at the description hanging beside the sculpture in question. Polyhexian frame, gold visor, flame patterns along the frame- everything matched. And while artists defacing or destroying their works was not unheard of, Barricade wasn’t getting the vibe that was the intention here. He also didn’t think it was possible to steal something that was yours, so that ruled out being a thief as well.

And artist or not, he still had a job to do as well.

“Not sure why you’re here, but this place is still closed for the cycle.”

“Guess I just wanted ta be able ta look by m’self. Can’t come durin’ normal times. Not ‘n have any peace.” Ricochet stood and walked over the piece, reaching out to run run his fingers over the polished surface.

While Barricade knew he should intervene, should stop the other mech whatever his intent, he found himself rooted to the spot as his optics followed the motion of the mechs digit-tips. Light fingers ran over the main figure of the piece, a creator, then traced the helms of the abstract creations clinging to it.

Apparently finished, Ricochet turned and motion towards the exit. “Ya gonna show me out?”

Barricade felt as though he was coming out of a trance, and the sensation irritated him enough that his next glyphs came out more as a growl. “Yes. And if I catch you in here again after closing, I will call the Enforcers to report a trespassing, artist or not.”

“More ‘n fair.” Ricochet agreed as the Praxain security guard guided him out. “They might wanna tight’n up security round the loading dock. Jus’ sayin’.”

Barricade bit back a growl, wondering how he was going to go about reporting this in the morning. His frustration was interrupted by a stray thought as he watched the other mech descend the broad stairs that graced the front of the gallery.

“What were you looking for?”

The Polyhexian paused on the stairs and turned, his gaze sweeping over the gallery front before coming to rest on Barricade.

“Inspiration.”

#roughwrite #my prompts deal with it #fic:inspiration