#for a comic that you have a burning desire to draw so much that you end up thinking fake covers just to calm tf down.
Text
your love is my curse
#hero 108#hero: 108#mystique sonia#yaksha#lin chung#mighty ray#jumpy ghostface#dont u just love when u get into an oldest silliest fandom u can and just snap over that one blorbo#and like. imagine a backstory for them that was denied in canon and write like 4 pages of a draft#for a comic that you have a burning desire to draw so much that you end up thinking fake covers just to calm tf down.#fun times#anyway hiiiiii turns out sonia crawled into my head and now she fucking lives there. its hell because there is almost no content for my gur#at least thats not questionably p0rny. i even returned to DA and got traumtized again when i tried to look sonia up lol. at least got to se#my cringy ass old art so thats fun i guess
239 notes
·
View notes
Text
Simon x gn!reader
Read the Modern Warfare: Ghost comics yesterday and they poked my brain in some spots. They inspired this, because yes Simon sexy; big man makes brain go brrr but what if Simon says no?
Warnings: heated make out session, not proofread and it's late so it sucks
Simon moans under you as you kiss him, the sound making your body ache with need. It echoes in your ribcage making your heart flutter and frantically beat against your ribs, trying to get to Simon.
Your bodies are pressed against each other and you already feel lightheaded when you haven't even taken your clothes off.
But Simon is shirtless and all that skin under your hands drives you insane while you're making out. Tongues lazily intertwining, rubbing together, creating that delicious friction that makes you pant.
Simons pupils are blown wide as he looks up at you on his lap. You can feel how affected he is by you as well and it increases your desire tenfold.
You think you'll go crazy if you don't get the clothes separating you two out of the way. Your entire body is calling out to the man under you and you need to do something about it before you lose your mind.
Slowly you move your hand over his pecs, dipping your head to follow that path with your lips and tongue, marking his skin while you're at it.
Simon makes a sound that's half a whimper, half a moan and it makes you bite down on his pec which in turn gets an actual whimper out of him.
You look up at him and he's thrown his head back, watching you through almost closed eyes, burning you with his desire.
His chest is heaving and his harsh pants of air are actually audible. You have never seen him so wrecked before and you can't wait to ruin him when he moans your name. And your hips twitch in response.
Th reaction only seems to fuel his desire more and he bites his lip trying to stifle the sounds he's making.
Your hand continues its path down his tummy towards his pants where your reward awaits. Your heart speeds up as you get to his waistband.
It's such a tiny moment you would have missed it if you were less aware of every single movement of Simon.
Just for a second he goes stiff and then relaxes again.
Your hand stills. Your eyes trail up from his crotch again to meet his eyes. There's a tightness around his mouth that doesn't sit well with you.
He's the picture of relaxation, but it's not real anymore. His eyes are wide open, you can see the muscles in his arms flex, even as he keeps them down, seemingly open and relaxed.
You sit back on his thighs, ceasing all other movement.
"Tell me, baby.", you gently encourage.
Simon shakily exhales, puts his hand over yours, that's still sitting just over his waistband and moves your hand back up to his chest.
You can feel his heart hammering under your palm and it doesn't feel like desire anymore. It feels like a hectic little animal being chased. It feels like anxiety and slight panic.
He stays quiet, not moving a muscle and you match him, gently stroking your thumb over his skin, scooting closer again, so you're not half bent over from where you tried to get to his zipper.
"I don't... I'm sorry, 'luv.", he whispers roughly and you smile. A sad smile but it's gentle and you can feel Simons heart slow down under your palm at your smile.
"It's okay. No need to apologize."
His other hand finds your neck and he draws you in until your foreheads touch and you can feel his shaky breath on your lips.
One of your hands mimics his, while the other one stays on his chest, his skin warm and scarred against yours.
Gently you squeeze the back of his neck. "We're okay." You whisper and you can feel him finally relax again.
You know there's so much he probably feels like saying but as he so often does he lets the silence speak for him.
Luckily you've gotten fluent in Simon's silence over the time.
"I don't care, baby. I only care about you being here with me. My needs can be taken care of in other ways. We don't need that to be close. We've got our own ways."
Instead of answering, he kisses you again and you arch your back so all of you is pressed to him.
It has nothing of the desperation of earlier even if the heat is still simmering deep in your belly.
It's all comfort and closeness now.
He cups your face, as if you're the most precious thing he's ever held and you smile into the kiss.
"How can you be so... so... good?", he asks. If you didn't know him as well as you did you would have missed the way his voice sounds slightly choked up.
"I love you.", is your simple answer and he shakes his head.
"I don't get it. Why are you not sick o' me? Why haven't ya found someone who can do normal shit."
You smile, peck his lips and try to pull back, which turns into him holding you close and deepening the kiss before you attempt to pull back again. He doesn't let you and you grin into the kiss. Finally he lets you go, both of you laughing quietly.
"I will never be sick of you. I don't need anything but you. And you are enough, exactly as you are, right now in this moment. You've always been enough."
You can see his eyes widen as your words hit him, his hands find your hips and hike you up a bit more and then he hides his face in your chest, his arms around you, chrushing you to him
If the way his fingers dig into your skin is slightly painful you don't comment on it. You bring your arms up and hold him just as tightly.
#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#cod simon x reader#gn!reader#simon x gn!reader#consent is sexy#little something in between while I'm working on the angst
222 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey Red!
I have a writing question I’d like to ask, if that’s cool with you!
When it comes to starting a new story, big or small, pantsing or structuring, with black tea or chamomile, do you have any tips for, er, actually pulling the trigger and beginning? I don’t mean the “accusatory blank page”, I mean in getting to the “I genuinely believe this is a story worth telling and that should be told by me” mindset sufficient to commit. (Insofar as there’s a difference.)
Asking you because you’re someone who has excellent and proven skills in showwomanship, creativity, execution and all-round good storytelling vibes. Cuz while I’ve studied story structure and writing advice aplenty… It’s hard to take the dive when you’ve only ever been in the kiddie pool, so to speak.
Thanks either way!
Aw shucks!
I kinda feel like there's an intermediate stage here that I usually hit first, which is when I've been telling a story for myself for so long that I start feeling like I don't want to keep it to myself anymore.
A lot of the stuff I write or draw is just for me - stuff where I enjoy the act of creation or use it to flesh out and play with a concept I've been toying with. Sketchbook stuff that doesn't have an outside audience in mind, just stuff that I like. These aren't stories that have the end goal of sharing them - hell, half of them are just comic or prose adaptations of story beats that stuck with me that I wanted to play around with as practice and for fun. The rest of it is sketch pages of characters, doodles of scenes or snippets of prose writing built around a single scene or concept.
I think that the creative urge, when examined, should be subdivided into two extremely distinct subsections for clarity; the desire to make, and the desire to share. Not every person shares both in equal measure - in fact I'd say it's much more common for them to exist independently. The desire to share isn't limited to art you yourself created, either - fandom is constructed from a massive excess of the desire to share, passing around a story for examination and discussion because it is inherently fun to share the experience, and most of us can relate to the burning need to talk about this thing that's in my brain. And there's plenty of art that results from the desire to make that has none of the desire to share, ref cit everything in a sketchbook or every private writing exercise done for the joy of it. Neither element can be forced, and there's nothing wrong with either one existing without the other.
For me at least, the desire to share builds slowly for the larger projects. I might be eager to share a doodle or a sketch I think people will get a kick out of, but something bigger and more complicated will stay in my brain for much longer, and might never make it out. For me, Aurora started as just a playground for me to write and draw in, but over the years it built up to something I wanted to share - something I felt I'd be betraying if I let it sit in my head. It kind of just grew naturally, and if I'd tried to force it beforehand I would've felt self-conscious and uncomfortable rather than getting any joy out of the act of sharing.
234 notes
·
View notes
Note
May I please ask for headcanons for La Squadra with a s/o whose stand is able to see the future and warned them about their deaths and how to avoid it please
Your boyfriend stares at you in confusion, and then at your stand perched on the low table in front of you. Time After Time, a little projector with tiny, cartoonish legs, flickering its light at him.
“Please! Please, you can’t go!”
Your stand, while adorable, had just shown him his own graphic, violent death at the hands of some pink man and an airplane stand
At first he asks you to prove what Time After Time was showing was the future, and not just a projection of your anxiety
The little stand hops up and down and flickers at him, frustrated, just like it’s user
“Remember when we went to the races and I told you to bet on Camembert?”
It takes some convincing and several more specific instances, but he eventually caves to your teary eyes and wobbling lips.
When you tell him about the potential deaths of his other squad mates and proceed to show him each one, it further cements his decision to not take action
“You’ve already convinced me, sangù, you don’t have to show me any more.”
For now, he hugs you tight to him, whispering sweet words of affirmation to you while he tries to calm you down
He has to pepper about one thousand kisses to your face and lips before your sobs turn to sniffles, and soon you’re fast asleep
It’s back to the drawing board for now, he didn’t want to take any chances
He subconsciously covers his neck, but that doesn’t stop him from bitching at you for ‘lying’
“It’s my fucking job! You knew that when you started dating me!”
It only makes it worse
Much, much worse
You start crying harder, falling to your knees and holding onto his leg like a child throwing a tantrum
There’s no words to your sobs, just heart wrenching calls of his name and ‘please’
Ghiaccio’s stomach is twisted into knots at the pitiful sight. He can only stare down at you with a furrowed brow.
“Please, how can I convince you?! It’s the truth Ghiaccio! I would never lie to you!”
Ghiaccio was the screamer in the relationship, but right now you were putting him to shame.
He bites the inside of his cheek as he stares at you, eyes traveling to your little stand. It hopped and stamped its comically small stick feet
Any desire to be right or poke holes in everything you say is thrown out the window when you look up at him with your big watery doe eyes
“Fuck’s sake, fine. But you’d better convince Risotto first.”
What you had just shown him was borderline comical
Was that really your best attempt at dissuading him? A snake bite?
He brushes it off as you being clingy, much to the dismay of your stand
“I appreciate that you care so much, but this isn’t exactly convincing evidence.”
He doesn’t expect you to get so angry at him, much less your little camera stand.
And he definitely doesn’t expect your stand to retaliate by showing him the other gruesome deaths of his teammates
Seeing Formaggio burned to a crisp and Illuso reduced to a toxic sludge made his skin crawl and bile rise into his throat.
His fingers tighten on the sides of his laptop, your utterly distraught features adding to the guilt and disgust
“Let’s say I believe you. (He does, but he’ll never outright admit it) how am I supposed to explain this to Risotto? That my honey bunny is actually a Pythia and can predict the future.”
Secretly excited about the discovery of your stand and is mentally making up ideas for what the stands of your children would look like
(He settles for little Juniors with Polaroid cameras)
Tunes your attempts at “convincing Risotto” out and pulls you into his lap to distract you.
To him, it was like something out of an American cowboy film. Caught in the wheels of a train and shredded to death
You and your stand stared at him expectantly, you with watery eyes and the stand with an unblinking lens
“Che sarà, sarà. It comes with the job.”
He doesn’t mean to upset you, but it’s inevitable, isn’t it? He’s an assassin, it’s not like the possibility of him him dying was far fetched
Of course, his attitude towards you just makes you cry harder, the little stand flickering wildly.
He tries to play it off like it doesn’t bother him for a few moments, but it’s hard for him to play it cool when you all but launch yourself into his grasp, gripping his arms with Herculean strength.
It certainly makes him more inclined to believe you.
“Alright, alright, I won’t go. Hush.”
He’s mostly saying it to placate you, but he doesn’t want to imagine what his death would do to you
Because he could say without hesitation that he wouldn’t be able to carry on without out you
He didn’t even know stands could do that kind of thing!
He almost throws up at the footage your adorable little stand shows him.
“There’s no way Big Bro and I could die like that! It must be wrong.”
That just makes your pleads louder and you cry harder, which makes him freak out more.
Is quick on the damage control and is immediately trying to comfort you while also resisting crying himself
Worries his lower lip with his teeth as he rocks you back and forth
What would Big Bro do in this situation? Would he stay, or would he risk it for the mission?
Pesci decided that, right now, it was best to stay with you
“You should show the others. They’ll want to see this too!”
You’re already fast asleep in his arms
He wants to believe that what you’re saying isn’t true, and the puddle of acidic goop on the stones of Pompeii isn’t what he’ll end up a puddle of acidic goop on the stone floor of Pompeii
But he’s far too proud to believe that anyone could ever beat him and Man in the Mirror
It’s only after you completely break and start sobbing uncontrollably that he believes you
“Christ, calm down. I believe you, alright!”
Part of him just wants to calm you down and shut you up, but the other part doesn’t want to find out if what you had shown him was true.
Tries to shift the subject away and distract you.
“What else can it do? Can it predict cards?”
It works just a bit before you break down again and accuse him of not taking you seriously.
Against his rules of ‘no PDA unless we’re in private where no one can see us’, he snuggles you to his chest and squeezes you tight
Might even let you play with his hair and reassures you that he’s not going to leave you for a very long time, or at least until they find an alternative solution
Laughs, but he’s really uncomfortable with the contrast of your adorable stand and the gorey visuals
Especially seeing himself all crispy
He tries to make a funny comment about him becoming fondue or halloumi, but you obviously don’t take it well
“Hey, hey, sweetheart, I’m just trying to make you feel better. It’s alright, baby, I promise I won’t be turning into cheese crisps anytime soon, heh.”
After you accuse him of not believing you, he finally realizes that you’re actually worried about him and you’re not trying to scare him
It’s….sweet. He can’t recall a time where anyone has looked out for him like this, but then again not everyone had the gift of foresight.
He corrals you into his lap and calls over his cat, who immediately starts to love all over you
“Don’t worry, okay? Risotto’s smart, he’ll know what to do about it.”
#la squadra x reader#prosciutto x reader#ghiaccio x reader#melone x reader#risotto nero x reader#formaggio x reader#illuso x reader#pesci x reader
246 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Don’t panic ‘The Bear Minimum’ will still show up every now and again, just a lot less than it used to.
This is a continuation of my thoughts on the comic I posted here last. I’m just not enjoying making art anymore, like -not at all- & it’s really getting me down. Art is an intrinsic part of my identity, so not wanting to do it feels awful. This reticence has been building for at least 4 years now & as of last year I have been acting on my desire to leave art as a career, before I burn out to a crisp.
Please note this is the first time in a long time I am feeling mentally healthy & have the resources to go without my portion of our income for some time (while I try to get IRL work). So, I really need to seize this moment of security to make big life changes. Even if it means we’re going to have to tighten our budget a lot while I try to find work. Some of you may remember that I am attending school full-time for an assistant administration diploma, ideally to have a broad skillset to bring with me while job hunting. I’ll be graduating from that course at the end of May if everything goes as planned.
I have been on a commission hiatus since the start of this year to put schooling in action, continuing only with the weekly comic & monthly Patreon exclusive work. This brought my monthly income down to 1/3rdof what it usually is, but that was all I could manage alongside fulltime school.
Doing so much less drawing has been incredibly beneficial to my RSI hand pain! For the first time in years, I can go to sleep without restrictive arm braces & I don’t need maintenance from the physiotherapist. I honestly thought that was permanent so I can’t even convey my relief there!
However, despite drawing a lot less, my love for making art did not return. I enjoy making comics, but they are a whole lotta line-art & that can be a very repetitive process.
Being a comic artist has been extremely good for my growth online; to the point where I owe half or more of my current following to it. Some people don’t even know I draw other things, that’s how good their reach is compared to my other art.
Despite that I am going to be taking the comic off schedule. Even if it means sacrificing most or all my Patreon income and kneecapping my reach on every platform.
I’ve been making the comic 4 times a month, with little break for 6 years. It started as a good outlet for my thoughts & an exercise in consistency, as I had never had a schedule of any sort prior.
Doing the comic weekly was a great lesson in self motivation, but no one is forcing me to continue with it other than me. Plenty of times the deadline came I didn’t have a good idea & just made something I wasn’t proud of, because it was income and because I had just done it every week for so long.
If you don’t enjoy my non bear/comic art, then I suppose we’ll part ways. In the end I must do right by me though & I feel like this is the best choice right now.
Patrons have been notified on what will be happening over there in their own post.
150 notes
·
View notes
Note
Oooh for femslash how about Lucifer/Mazikeen for "Inspired by a photo from your camera roll"?
hello, hi, this is much too late for the femslash weekend and I confess I straight up forgot it with being sick and irl stuff, so hopefully you'll enjoy it regardless.
Mazikeen/lucifer "Inspired by a photo from your camera roll"
Okay, so I still had a photo of a poppy from June. Here goes. (Comic spoilers for Season of Mists ahead.)
The sun is beating down relentlessly, the air heavy and thick, every breath almost singeing the back of Lucifer's throat. If they didn't know better they'd think they were back in hell. But no. No, that's behind them for good, and good riddance.
No, they're taking a walk in the August heat, because they can, because the club doesn't open until eight, because Lucifer knows that Mazikeen secretly sometimes misses her old home. Just like they know that Mazikeen would follow them everywhere, regardless of consequences.
Lucifer stops to pick a stray poppy from the overgrown edge of a golden wheat field, the blood red petals big and silky. From the corner of their eyes they can see Mazikeen scowling. Ah.
"None of that. He only did what I asked of him."
Mazikeen hums and Lucifer can feel fingers ghost over their spine, right between their shoulder blades. The scars to the left and right sting, but the soft touch turns it into a smokey, earthen ache, like a good whiskey.
"He still hurt you."
The possessiveness in Mazikeen's voice makes desire curl over the back of Lucifer's tongue, washes pleased warmth into their stomach.
"Yes," they say, drawing Mazikeen close by her waist. "And now we're here. Isn't this better?"
The fingers of their right hand caress Mazikeen's rough burn scar before dipping around to hold onto her neck and tug, drawing her in so Lucifer can press their lips to hers, insistently nudging her mouth open.
Mazikeen makes a hungry sound, grabs at the lapels of their red suit, hauls them closer. Oh yes, this is a thousand times better than hell; the heat of the sun is nothing compared to Mazikeen’s movement and fingers and touch. Once invited, Lucifer does not have to insist further. Mazikeen is not shy about taking, never was, and they have more than enough to let her take what she wants. To indulge her.
To be perfectly honest, Lucifer had forgotten what it felt like to tempt someone themselves, and even without most of their power, without their realm, it makes them dizzy. Euphoric. Hungry.
When Mazikeen draws back, her eyes seem huge, almost black. She licks her lips.
"We still have four hours," she says, her voice spiced honey, her right thumb caressing the soft divot next to Lucifer's hipbone.
"Lead the way then." A tiny smile plays at the corner of Lucifer's mouth. Time to let Mazikeen enjoy her own small temptation.
#the sandman#lucifer x mazikeen#mazifer#luzikeen#lucifer the sandman#mazikeen the sandman#idk if its any good#have it anyway
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
🪱 Intro Post: Take 2 🪱
Mellow-Yellow-Welcome to my art blog!
My full name is Chris Pycream Bacon, but you can call me Crispy! Others have bestowed upon me Chris P, Chris, Christopher and Bacon which I very much welcome.
In here you'll find, well, art! Not just from me but from others as well because sharing art is caring. I also sometimes post reviews, opinions or just jamble-tamble-rambles.
You can find me in other places, namely in AO3 where I post my writings and another Tumblr blog where everything is a little less organized and rambley :P
This is an inclusive place, so POC, LGBT+, disabled/neurodivergent and non-Christian people are welcome here!
If you are discriminatory towards any one of these groups or are just a contemptible being, you're getting the boot :}
With that out of the way, you can learn more about me and find my tagging system under the "Keep Reading" section!
I love drawing anything from comics to illustations to OCs to fanart. I just draw whatever my heart desires at the moment. One day, I'd love to be an animator or a comic artist, but I'm open to whatever art career welcomes me with open arms!
Other than visual arts, you can find me indulging in writing, singing, acting, listening to music and yelling about whatever interests me in the moment. I also have two cats named Takoyaki and Sashimi, a dog named Miso, and a dinosaur plush named Dinosara that I adore very much!
I'm a non-binary trans person and am very annoying about it in a silly way :3 I'm also a bisexual aroace in a queerplatonic relationship with the most specialest, most girlypop fish in the world <3 (Arden if you're reading this HI HELLO WELLOW!!!)
Here are a list of tags to keep things organized!
#chris p fried art - My art
#chris p fried rambles - My commentary
#chris p fried writings - My writings
#artists cooking gourmet - Art made by other artists
#chris p fried doo doo - My shitposts
#chris p fried answers - My answers to asks
#people frying stuff - General posts made by other people
#clowns burning the kitchen (affectionate) - Funny posts
#a nice warm soup after a long day - Wholesome posts
#alphabet soup matters - LGBT+ posts
#important - Awareness posts (Can potentially be triggering; view at your own discretion)
I try my best to trigger tag posts. If you'd like anything to be tagged, feel free to shoot me an anonymous ask or a message, and I will do so for you!
Feel free to interact or reach out! I'm not always the best in responding on time, but I do my best :>
Whether you're here for my art, my rambles or just wanna have a chill time with the funny demon, I hope you'll enjoy your stay! ^w^ ~ ☆
#meet the artist#intro post#blog intro#introduction#artists on tumblr#artblr#end of the year post babyyyyyyy#art#digital art#chris p fried art#EDIT: I DIDN'T MEAN TO POST THIS HELP?????#OKAY I GUESS#IT'S PUBLIC NOW LET'S GO 💀💀💀
13 notes
·
View notes
Note
Have you ever considered drawing comics for your ideas about James?
YES ACTUALLY!! i really want to give a comic for james, ive thought about it so much! but i really want to focus on working on the kaycee comic i already started that i equally want to work on. practicing self restraint on tackling too many projects so i dont burn out lmao
..but ive been making an interesting development lately.. i mentioned a couple times how i simply can not write fic, but my desire to work on a james story changed my dna so ive been writing something on my phone while im bored at work 😂 maybe i can finish writing something for the first time ever because of capitalism
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
For anyone who wonders why I don't have a set in stone update schedule or where an update is for my webcomics, here's a quick post for reasons why.
I work on comic pages when I have the energy and the desire to. This keeps me from burning out and just straight up dropping a story because I am too strained to work on it anymore. Working like this is basically the only way Beanstalked survived high school and college and winded up getting a reboot instead of just being cancelled all together because I still love the story 16 year old me came up with.
The above reasoning is also how I manage to spit out multiple pages an update because I tend to have more energy to go all out on a page. Waiting until the creative juices hit is how I make things look pretty. It's also the only way I can pull off fully colored illustrations.
I have a life outside of the internet. Which means that everything you guys see are things I manage to squeeze out during the little bursts of free time I got when I am not working my full time job or napping because I am tired from said job.
I USED to do a week by week update schedule. It was back when I only had school to worry about so I didn't suffer as much as I potentially could have but I still remember the stress I'd get wacked with when I'd be minding my business only to remember I hadn't started a page for the week. I would literally have to take a entire month break between chapters and I'd always enjoy those months way more than the months I had to work on pages because of how I had more freedom and fun with my art when I wasn't forcing myself to do it. These days I feel much happier and even excited when I work on a page because I genuinely want to instead of having a looming weekly deadline.
A straight forward and blunt answer to leave things with is that I work on webcomics as a hobby and for fun. I am not being paid for Beanstalked or Glitter and Guilt. They are stories born from something I enjoy doing and plan to continue doing for as long as my hand functions. And like many others with a hobby, some days I just don't do it because I don't have that focus to touch a page. Some days I do. This is echoing back to my first point but you guys get the point.
Every one over the years have been really understanding about my update schedules, I imagine because I constantly share and draw things about my OCs so it helps during the down times, but every blue moon I'll get someone wondering why I don't do weekly updates.
SO HOPEFULLY this is enough for some of the new people who are wondering why my updating is all over the place.
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Teaser for the next chapter of Dragon of the Sun:
Despite his rough arrival, Leo had to admit that Usagi's world was...beautiful.
It was strange, walking around in broad daylight. The warmth of the sun felt almost unfamiliar without layers of clothes hiding everything beneath, and being able to freely walk into the village he'd spotted before without anyone running or screaming at the sight of him felt...nice.
Mikey would love-
Immediately, his heart clenched tightly in his chest, and he had to take a moment to center himself as he remembered yet again why he was so desperate to get home.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Done already?" he asked when he saw Mikey get up from the couch without his comic. "You just sat down not too long ago, didn't you?"
It had only been a few minutes, in fact. Regardless of the amusing and ironic fact that Mikey was a speed reader second only to Donnie, even he couldn't have finished it that fast. Especially since he knew Mikey liked going through them a second time just for the artwork.
"I'm gettin' kinda hungry, so I was gonna get started on lunch," Mikey grinned, but it was a bit too stiff. Too...off.
Something was wrong. He had a good idea what it was, too, but going by how Mikey kept fidgeting in place and his eyes refused to meet his, he wasn't going to get anywhere if he tried to draw it out. He'd missed the chance to do that weeks ago.
He just had to be patient. Mikey would come to him eventually. He always did.
"Just let me know if you need help."
He allowed the unspoken meaning linger between them, and felt some of his concern ebb away when Mikey's grin shifted into something much more genuine and warm.
"You got it, bro."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"We must make haste to Edo," Usagi said, bringing him out of his thoughts. "Do you know how to ride a horse?"
"Oh. Uh...no. Not exactly a lot of opportunities to do that where I'm from."
"Then we will procure just one other and ride in pairs." His friend smiled a bit. "Perhaps, should we find a moment to spare while traveling, I can teach you some of the basics."
He perked up at the offer. He doubted there would ever be a time he'd need to know how to ride a horse in New York, but learning obscure things had become a sort of secret hobby of his over the years ever since Master Splinter had taught him about alligator pressure points. It was always fun to see the absolutely gob smacked expressions of the people around him whenever he knew about something or managed to pull off a move or skill no one expected of him.
It was a trait he shared with-
The excitement that had built up in him faded, although he did his best to smile back.
"Only if there's time. I don't want to put Lord Noriyuki in any more danger."
"Of course," Usagi nodded.
He paused for a moment, as if he were going to say something else, but ultimately kept moving.
His mind was quick to drag him back the moment silence fell between them.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Someone, quick!" Donnie exclaimed. "Grab the-!"
Scepter, he finished in his mind. If they managed to grab it, then Drako and the Damiyo's son wouldn't be able to freeze them like they had Raph, and it would make it easier to fight them. It was a good plan. Probably the only chance they'd have of making this fight turn in their favor.
But they'd anticipated the move, and in moments, they were all frozen in midair.
"Uh..."
All of them, except for Mikey.
He felt ice shoot through his veins at the enraged snarl that echoed through the air. He could see the hatred that burned in their eyes. The desire to destroy. To kill. And it was all aimed at his little brother.
His little brother, who had been left to face it all alone.
"Insignificant insect! You only delay the inevitable! There is no- Gah!"
Something shot passed them, and it wasn't until it clattered to the ground after hitting its mark did he realize that it had been a pot lid. He felt a spark of pride wriggle through the worry and panic, even as another part of him wanted to shake his head. Throwing weapons specifically designed for it was one thing, but throwing things not meant to be thrown was harder than it looked. It said a lot about Mikey for him to have it done it so well under duress.
The panic returned stronger than before as Mikey sprinted forward, eyes focused on the falling Time Scepter. His expression was determined. Resolute in a way he'd never seen before- even when facing down the Foot and the Shredder. Then again, he'd never had to face such a threat on his own before now.
He should never have had to.
Casey cried out in shock somewhere behind them, but Leo was too focused on Mikey as he lunged forward, hand reaching out for the scepter as it fell.
He didn't even have time to yell out a warning before a large tail slammed into him, knocking him away and into one of the support pillars hard enough for part of it to break off.
"Mikey!!"
Mikey slumped to the ground unmoving, his plastron cracked and a trickle of blood dripping down from the back of his head.
Leo felt his heart stop.
"MIKEY!!"
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"-san. Leonardo-san!"
He jerked back into the present, Usagi frowning slightly at him as he held the reins of a horse. Still, his friend didn't question it until they made it back onto the path outside the village.
"Such lack of focus is unlike you, Leonardo-san," he murmured quietly. "Are you well?"
"I'm-..."
No.
"I-..."
I'm not.
He trailed off, words failing him as he struggled to keep everything at bay. In doing so, he missed the way Usagi's frown deepened.
I'm...scared.
But he couldn't falter- not now.
His family needed him.
#Dragon of the Sun- fanfic#Chapter 5 teaser#Somehow posted it right before I was done doing the italics#It's fixed now#Poor Leo's too worried to enjoy being in Usagi's world#His bestie will help him don't worry#I am slowly chipping away at this when I can#Last night I fell asleep at my desk after only a few minutes though#But each word is one step closer
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
i’m working on a mini comic series and i just really commend the ones out there committing years of their life to a comic, like i want to be you so bad. i have a really nice idea that could be a long form comic and maybe that will be me one day, but right now i’m learning how to make comics and this one is ten pages and that alone is so daunting to me. anyways here’s my favorite shot from the first page :) which is waiting to be cleaned up and colored. i spent weeks on and off scripting and thumbnailing it and it’s my baby.
but also i was just thinking about how entering fandom spaces has increased my desire to draw by like 1000% percent, i have never drawn so much in my life… around this time of year last year i was the most miserable and depressed i had been in a while, i just graduated and gotten a degree that burned me out and no longer had interest in, i was burned out on art and struggling to create anything. turns out i just needed to play in someone else’s sandbox i guess. and the community and friends i have gathered along the way, i’m just feeling so grateful :) i love art again
10 notes
·
View notes
Note
How did you find the motivation and stay motivated to make your comic?
Okay before I answer this lemme just say a quick disclaimer: Due to health reasons I haven’t updated my comic in like two weeks and I feel like it would be weird to address motivation without acknowledging that! I was sick with covid in October, and even though I’ve finally recovered to the point that I can work on art, I have a lot of things (including non comic art) to catch up on that built up while I was sick. So anyways! Now that that’s out of the way, here’s my actual answer!
For a long time I didn’t have as much motivation as I do now. I would get super hype about a project, start it, and then burn out on it real fast. This was mainly because I felt like I had to do a story about something short or something that wasn’t the most important thing before I was “allowed” to work on my Big Ideas. But eventually I said fuck it! I’m never going to be ready, I have to start something I actually want to finish. I keep drawing my comic because I love looking at my characters and I really want everyone to know their stories and care about them! Something that helps keep that desire alive is to not info dump your entire comic on your friends. Keep some of the story to yourself so you can feel the excitement of sharing it with people.
Also: make character designs that are not extremely taxing to draw over and over! Rune has the easiest design ever and the lineart of my comic is messy because clean lineart comics take me 500 years. That’s what works for me!
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Heav, Heav, Heaven's on Fire!
I feel need to ramble a little on without emphasizing or comparing individual song elements too much. This statement could inspire some to think: "Hey, he does that all the time anyway!" And then I'd be happy to reply: "Alright! Then I don't need to have a bad conscience." Let's go!
And that brings me to following question: If something was hotter than hell, then surely that circumstance could set heaven on fire. Or better cause the sky to burn, wouldn't it?
Is that actually a scientific fact, completely apart from the metaphorical notion of a heaven or a hell? What I mean is if a certain concentrated temperature would be reached could it ignite the atmosphere? Or is this just dramatic movie or comic book fantasy? In order not to further diminish my admittedly somewhat forced transition with an opposing answer to this question, I prefer to leave it at the comic and fantasy level. Because, that's always a good thing when it comes to Kiss.
Be that as it may, I'm not really aiming for anything other than a little focus on Hotter Than Hell and Heaven's on Fire as you might have guessed. I would very much like to establish a vantage point that would allow Heaven's on Fire to be viewed as sort of an 80's version of Hotter Than Hell in the same vein that Unholy is sort of generally accepted as a 90's version of God Of Thunder. This practice, as we all know, is not completely uncommon.
O…kay? Then let's continue.
Do they have anything in common? Well, in one song the woman is hot, and in the other it's more Paul if I got that right, but that's not really the point. We still have this little beautiful contrast of heaven and hell. An impression that is only reinforced by the strong contrasts in production once you are aware of them. I love both, by the way. But so much for the content. Otherwise, they both infuse a certain cognate minimalism in their arrangement and chord choices in the verse and chorus, and are not altogether as dissimilar as you might think at first glance.
On the other hand, to be honest, almost everything i say is pure intuition, and maybe even my own disguised desire to be able to draw just another parallel between the 70s and 80s. What do you not do?
It's a dirty job, but someone's gotta do it. Isn't that so?
Hotter Than Hell (1974)
youtube
Heaven's on Fire (1984)
youtube
#Kiss#Paul Stanley#Desmond Child#Hotter Than Hell#Heaven's on Fire#Animalize#1974#1984#80's#90's#God of Thunder#Unholy#Gene Simmons#Vinnie Vincent#70's#Roland Rockover#Youtube
1 note
·
View note
Text
Here are some thoughts/reflection/process things re: the Tallahassee comic. Since this is my art blog, I figured this was the best spot to put it! Lots of images and pretty long, so I've thrown it below a cut.
This is the first time I've seriously worked with Microns and a lot of 'em since... oh, lord, 2020. I'm pretty sure I've done some other stuff along those lines, but here are examples and an emulation of the style digitally:
(Respectively, May 2020, March 2020, and September 2020. Apologies for quality on the first two; I had to rely on old photos.)
Compare with this spread from the comic:
I'm still not super comfortable with backgrounds (or cars; all the shots at the beginning are framed VERY carefully so that I do not have to draw one), but you can see that they've gotten a lot better. The sparseness of the floor was intentional - I wanted to create the effect of an infinite-looking space, with the ceiling fan to provide depth. There's a bit more depth and weightiness than in that drawing of Karkat or the seagulls.
That's partially because the house is as much of a character in Tallahassee as its narrators. Aside from the space in the liner notes devoted to describing their environment, there's also quite a bit in the album itself. There isn't much physically happening in the notes, either, so I had to rely on shots of the house in order to fill panel space. Three cheers for symbolism and vivid imagery!
To pull up another page, I've also gotten A LOT better with natural environments in particular. I'm quite proud of that rose bush and the fence, although I could've taken a little more care while filling it in and the lighting leaves something to be desired.
Speaking of, my attempts at lighting are quite a bit more solid, but still not perfect. Consistency isn't great, and I have some qualms about the Alphas' hair and the shadow cast by the Alpha Male sitting up, but what can ya do? At least I'm drawing shadows being cast by things, haha.
I think the attic, the window shots, and "knocked down" panels look the best light-wise. I was trying to convey bright moonlight, and I think I did a pretty good job! I adore the curtains. A solid runner-up is the open door; I wanted to use it as a reverse light source, of sorts. In retrospect, I could have spaced the door shots out a bit more to make it feel more ominous.
Craft-wise, there's also a lot of improvement. Normally, I'd do a longform, easy-to-fuck-up project like Tallahassee digitally. However, I forgot my drawing tablet stylus in a very stupid place that I won't return to for a few months. So, I've been going back to pen and paper again.
I felt very confident right out of the gate, which is very strange considering it was the first time I'd used many of those pens for art in a hot minute! I actually did another casual-ish piece with Microns and gel pens in my sketchbook a few weeks before this, shown below:
but while I was VERY excited about my use of color, I wasn't super fond of the ink work. That's because I fucked up before I even started.
My sketchbook is, er, a sketchbook. The pages are pretty rough. I learned while working on the comic that technical pens are meant for use on smooth paper, and will often appear spotty/inconsistent on the rougher stuff. You can REALLY see it on the frame around the magpie. I switched to standard-issue copier paper in the comic, which plays much nicer with them. Sketch paper also frays brush pens. Oops! Guess that explains what happened to one of those poor, poor souls...
I got my first set of Microns in 2017-ish. I was really only interested in the fixed-width pens; I'd tried a brush pen earlier on and HATED. IT. With a burning passion. My hands have always been pretty unsteady, but it was worse when I was younger, so my lines looked godawful. The set came with a brush pen, though, and I made many valiant attempts to use it. In my sketchbook. Which inevitably frayed it terribly and rendered it unusable for most purposes.
I used the set quite a bit, but infrequently enough that I've still got most of them! My 005 is going strong, but the 05 is lost, and the 1 and 03 are not long for this world. I've known the 03 is on death's door for a while now, but the 1 just started giving out on me while working on Tallahassee. I tried to replace both, but instead ended up with a 2. It worked out, though; I used it to fill in large, dark spaces. I really should've been using an alcohol marker, hence the streakiness.
Back to the brush pen, I ended up getting another set in 2019 that was all brushes, but this time with colors! "It will be different now," I told myself. "I'm a better artist. I'm stronger, and I do colored lines digitally. So I will use a brush pen, and I will like it." I did not use those brush pens and I hated them. But I did end up with a mercifully unspoiled black brush pen thanks to those, and also a red.
All three of the brushes I've named make an appearance here. I used the frayed pen to texture the grass and the Spanish moss; it ended up perfect for soft, fluffy things. I used the healthy and whole one for the tree branches and the Alphas on the "knocked down" page to lend them a more organic feel. The red makes its appearance on the last page.
It's the staircase on the left. I drew the lines with the red brush, then VERY, VERY, VERY carefully colored around them with the black. The red lettering was done by writing it out in pencil, writing over them in red gel pen, then VERY, VERY, VERY carefully tracing around them with a black pen and filling things in. Do not do that. It is stupidly time-consuming. If I pull a similar trick next time, I'm just going to write with my white gel pen and then go over it again with my red brush.
For the sake of my sanity and yours, I will not discuss that process in any more depth. I will also abstain from telling you about the hellish nightmare that was trying to print copies to distribute as zines, because DEAR FUCKING LORD.
I've already spent an hour writing this, and I've got quite a bit to do today! So I'll end it off here. Thanks for reading this!
1 note
·
View note
Text
It's really hard to make art nowadays, huh?
I don't even mean regarding the AI problems, though maybe a little bit more towards how so many online platforms rise and fall faster than anyone can really keep up with.
I can't help but feel this continuous sense of displacement: both Online and Offline. Expenses and climate nudges people to uproot, and groups disperse. We're all hyper-connected and struggling to, ironically, find our own families.
Maybe this is also reflected in the feeling of art, lately? I know I desperately want to be able to build, to "grow roots", and yet, it feels as if everything may disappear in the sweep of a mass ban, a mass shut down, a new law, a new destruction of a built community and network of persons.
And then there's the commodification. To create self-indulgent things that cannot be sold, or given as a service -- this is nearly a crime when one is trying to overcome the challenges of modern-day survival. At best, these are little acts of self-care and self-renewal, or personal training. At worst -- you receive a cease and desist for what you wish to celebrate or express, makes some other person with more power and more money, a little unhappy.
Over and over again, I'm no stranger to being uprooted. Arguably, I even sought it out, coming from an unstable home. To uproot and start again feels safe, familiar, even if I lose my previous communities, networks, connections, support. To start over as a stranger again and again, it's a blessing and a curse. I get to avoid the weight of expectations, of mis-allocated history, of interpretations by others outside of my own inner mind. It's uncomfortable, being misunderstood.
And it seems a lot of places encourage being misunderstood. It generates activity, audience, participation, but at what cost? Anger-money feels shitty.
Even now, I picture someone reading my vent, and quickly coming up with their own interpretations on how to help, how to participate, how to respond to this and to me, without actually really processing the desire behind the surface level problems. It goes so much deeper than a practical paycheck.
I look at the art I've made in the past two years or so. So much of it was commissions for others. The ideas and desires of others, interpreted and amplified by me. Some pieces did feel close to my own voice, and my signature always seeps in the lines of the works, and yet... There is a cold disassociation, a disconnect. None of these pieces feel like mine. I made them, but I am not the person who made them anymore. And yet, can anyone ever really escape their past? Even in the wipe-outs of digital landscapes and deleting of previous history, previous posts, there's a strange lingering ghost. A weight. I wish I could shed this weight. To burn these roots and start again and again.
Maybe it's less to do about burning roots, and more about figuring out how to mulch them. How to make these pieces decay, and allow their awkward nutriments to feed into whatever might manifest next. Even strange pieces can inform and guide future works in their previous failures of execution.
There's also the question of where I want to go, if I do want to lean into this "nomadic" approach to art. Always resetting, always heading somewhere new. The thing is, while I am able to draw, to paint, to sketch -- I strangely don't enjoy having the end result exist.
It feels like mental bloat. Paper weight. Cognitive noise.
I've valued art as a means to process emotions, ideas, stories, experiences -- and then the end result is static tracks on paper. I suppose they're footprints for someone else to follow, should they desire to re-experience my own route. So where the fuck am I going?
I don't want to just make pretty pictures, or mass-appeal pieces. On the other hand, deeply activist pieces can also feel ham-fisted. What am I after: influence? Is that it? Outreach, motivation, enablement? Education? Entertainment?
Strangely enough, I do return to comics. These are art pieces that do a bit more than be pretty and spark a bit of feeling when one takes the time to glance at them. Comics can instruct, inspire, demonstrate. The story, while still open to interpretation, tends to also be a good deal more blatant. Intent is clear, and when executed well -- the reach goes far. It ticks a domino effect, message and validation inspiring action and motivation. I do like that.
I want to take part in something huge. I want to contribute to physical, tangible developments. I want to help install something that actively, passively benefits the ecosystem of human-nature dynamics over time. And I want to enjoy drawing again.
My desires feel so big, so specific, so out of reach right now. How will I get there? Who will I meet that could support my journey? Where can I go to find these people, my people? And once more, how can I get there? Especially when basic survival takes so much effort as-is.
I'll figure it out. There's the bittersweet relief found in being overwhelmed: it doesn't matter anymore, so enjoy the process. "Choose your death", and I enjoy the idea of chasing after what inspires me: beautiful nature and beautiful machines.
1 note
·
View note
Text
So the NCA Comics.
Short answer: I’m putting the series on hold.
Long answer: 3 weeks ago I made the spontaneous decision to make a weekly comic series. Made it over a day and a night, over 2 days then released it. After feeling a bit burned by the process, I focused on other things. Tuesday rolled around I found myself in a similar position as before, but still at least got it out. Now here we are at the 3rd one and I’m started to see a pattern form..
This series has already taught me so much, but I’m finding the process of making these is becoming a bigger focus than I had wanted them to be. It’s something I’m beginning to dred. With my 10 old drawing tablet and using a software not best suited to what I want to make, it’s becoming gruelling.
I’ve really been enjoying making these in hindsight, there’s loads of little things I’m proud of, I will continue the series most definitely.
This spontaneous thought of The NCA Comics came from a desire to learn, so far these comics have been a resounding success from that point.
Though right now this series has become a heavy burden and I want to keep the balance of challenge and fun. I can make it work, just need to figure somethings out 😎
If you read all that here’s a crown, you deserve it. 👑
0 notes
Last Seen Blogs
lusso-meliore
⚜️𝐋𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞
masamunehongo
we didn't come here for fun.
toomuchlight
too much light
kittynslitterbox
🐆K¡††¥n's🐾£¡‡‡εr🐾Bø✵🐆