#i hate being an artist making my income from art
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i need to update my comm sheet so bad but i am lazy . i will do it . in half an hour. plus i want to finish my harrow illust
#lav thinking#it is so old and not representative of what u will get#also i need to make a linktree :/#i hate being an artist making my income from art#anyway harrowhark is SO joan of arc coded
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hey chai, long post incoming--i'm slowly chipping away at a draft of a vivzie drama masterpost i'll be phrasing as "why are people mad at vivziepop" for new-comers. i'll be including screenshots where i can and small summaries for things.
that said, this is my rough list, have i missed anything that you can think of, or any specifics you think outta be mentioned?
VivziePop General Issues - Some from the Past that still happen in the Present
Inability to Handle Criticism / Confrontation
Transphobia
Misogynistic Tendencies
Issues with Improper Crediting / "Stealing" Ideas
Liking Tweets of Fans and Otherwise Who Agree with Her / Praise Her / Defend Her
Most of both her series’ “charm” is thanks to people other than her
Despite having two "LGBT+ friendly" series she primarily focuses on gay men and hasn't been the most LGBT+ friendly in other areas (acephobia, transphobia, lack of rep for queer women/wlw, thinks polyamory is just an excuse to cheat)
Conflicts between Vivzie putting forth an image of a struggling small-time creator who pulled herself up by the bootstraps and made it VS. circumstantial evidence that she is very well off financially and always has been; had her schooling paid for, spent a summer in Paris, takes expensive trips, makes expensive purchases, and lives in a million dollar house with multiple bedrooms and a pool
Testimonies of Ex-Employees and Friends
Erin Frost
KenDraws
Salem
VivziePop “Canon Events” of the Past and Present (20??-Present)
The Snake Tub & Creepy Fanart
Blaire White Fanart
Nazi Sausage Party Fan-Characters from blog “i-hate-jewce”
Starvader Drama
DollCreep / JayJay/Jiji Drama
Viv guilt-tripped a Patron for trying to get at least a partial refund for a financial emergency--many feel that while Viv was in the right for not wanting to refund the Patron, she handled it extremely poorly
Viv's 2018 "Apology"
Support of Angel Dust x Valentino as a “r*pe ships”
Her sister apologized on her behalf to someone she cyber bullied and her sister cited Viv as “having a problem” cyberbullying people. [Kedi's consequent reaching out to the sister having heard she was being a mediator for said person resulted in Viv saying Kedi was stalking her family.]
Viv kicking the original Hazbin Hotel pilot cast after saying she’d fight to keep them onboard [Michael has stated it was not a union issue and explained how he was even willing to shoulder the cost of having him on the show but was still let go.]
Viv saying redesigns are "disrespectful"
VivziePop Opinions of Other Artists
“I could destroy her” and everything else shitty she said about Kyra -- Kyra’s "Wolf in Sheep's Clothing" comic & tweets People Suspect Are About Vivzie
Calling Tracy Annoying
Ashley (Creator of Far-Fetched)
- Viv wasn’t happy with Hunicast’s popularity (mainly run by Ashley) and was mad people were mistaking Ashley for the creator of Hazbin Hotel despite Ashley always making sure to correct people.
- Viv learned something personal about Ashley that she used to make fun of her behind her back.
- Allegedly one of the reasons Viv kicked most the original VA cast of Hazbin Hotel were due to them associating with Ashley.
- Allegedly didn’t like that Ashley was leaving to work on her own indie pilot (Far-Fetched)
Bullying KediKatzen for having a similar art style, accusing Kedi of stalking her and her family, cyberbullying Kedi
SpindleHorse Related (VivziePop’s Animation Studio)
Rushed, Disorganized, Unprofessional Productions
Favoritism by Viv
“Cliquey” Behavior from Executives
Tight Deadlines
Underpaying
Working on other projects / working multiple jobs was generally frowned upon and discouraged.
In at least two instances Viv actually went out of her way to try and keep people from being hired elsewhere.
- In one she told Ashley that Erin was "mentally unstable"
- In another she told Nico Colaleo (Ollie & Scoops) not to hire “her artists” aka people working on her project(s).
VivziePop Criticisms Specific to Her Writing
Being Known to Skip Development to “Get to the Good Stuff”
Revealing / Confirming Story and World Lore via Liking Tweets, Making Tweets, or Behind a Patreon Paywall, instead of writing them into the series itself
Adding New Ideas Just Because She Likes Them, with Little Regard for how they Affect the Story
Rushing Characters’ Development and/or Retconning Characters to fit New Plots / Ideas
Apparent Lack of Research, Or At Least Poor Execution, of Her Ideas, Resulting in “Wasted Potential”
Concern over Mis-Management of “Morally Gray” and “Abusive” Character / Relationship Dynamics
Concern over apparent increasing themes of Inc*st in Helluva Boss
VivziePop Criticisms Specific to Her Art / Character Design
Over-Detailed Character Designs
Confusing Character Designs
Character Designs with Too Many Colors
Art style / designs that are “not animation friendly”
--As well as her personal quality of art deteriorating over time
Animation is jittery, moving too much, or moving too fast
What Happened with Lackadaisy
VivziePop allegedly wanted to be on the Lackadaisy production in the past, but didn’t get hired
VivziePop has called Lackadaisy Creator Tracy “annoying” for “being active” in an animation channel on Discord
VivziePop tweeted a screenshot of a $5,000 Pledge to Lackadaisy’s backer-kit [which would’ve given Spindlehorse an Associate Producer’s credit on the future Lackadaisy productions]
Lackadaisy Crew Member ZeBirdBrain passive-aggresively replied that “since Medrano couldn’t be bothered to share the donation link, here it is!” And that money amount didn’t matter, every little bit counts.
It was revealed by SH Animator Mel in reply to ZeBirdBrain that the donation came from multiple team-members at SH (VivziePop did not mention this in her donation tweet.)
ZeBirdBrain deleted her original tweet.
ZeBirdBrain was harassed by VivziePop fans to be fired
Fans found tweets in ZeBirdBrain’s likes that appeared to be transphobic
One of ZeBirdBrain’s friends, a trans man, spoke up in defense of Ze, that Ze had known them since before their transition in 2013 and had been nothing but supportive.
Lackadaisy Co-Creator Fable, a trans masc, chimed in that they were made aware of the tweets, they looked into the matter, and were satisfied with the explanations they were given and hoped that would be enough for everyone.
[Fighting continued between fans and Lackadaisy crew members but the general consensus from the Lackadaisy crew seemed to be that they knew Ze to be a supportive ally, the liked tweets were a debated subject even in trans circles w/trans folk on both sides of the argument, Ze uses/used her likes as bookmarks rather than using the bookmark feature, and the reason Ze wasn’t saying all this herself was out of fear the rabid fandom wouldn’t take her word for it and would instead slander her further.]
Later, Lackadaisy’s Backer-Kit campaign ended, at which point Backer-Kit begins processing all the payments.
VivziePop posts a screenshot that “Spindlehorse’s” donation was denied.
Tracy replied to Viv’s tweet professionally, saying they had explained to SH the reason for the denial in private.
Viv’s fanbase became increasingly volatile towards this, claiming Tracy was “unprofessional” and “just should’ve accepted the money” and everyone should “boycott Lackadaisy”
Tracy, on one of her servers, not only elaborated more on the Ze incident (repeating much of what had already been said), but also revealed they had actually reached out to Spindlehorse in private, well before the campaign ended, and requested that they withdraw their donation. Spindlehorse refused.
i think that's about it--and obv where screenshots are available they will be linked in the full post i eventually make.
This looks amazing to me, and also you're doing god's work; something like this was insanely needed.
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so me and eden talked about it and ive decided to take a sort of internet break with her, just for a week or so. i hate hate hate being so dependent on the internet (particularly social media) for both entertainment and socialization and i feel like being online so much and relying on it for SO LONG (since i was maybe 11?) has really been detrimental to my mental health. and since ive made rent for this month i feel like now is a good time to just step away for a bit.
i still unfortunately rely on the internet for my livelihood--i HAVE to take commissions in order to make rent, provide food, etc, so i wont stop posting art or taking commissions! i'll just be less social i guess. i wont make any posts or reblog anything, i'll just be posting art and contacting ppl abt commissions.
i want to spend more time with my wife. i want to go outside more. i want to hang out with irl people more (i literally have no irl friends). i want to go to meetups. i want to disconnect from the internet so bad i HATE relying on it as much as i do. i mean this so unironically i want to touch grass again
im ngl. i also talked w eden about possibly starting up an irl small business for my art--something along the lines of basically being a caricature artist again, but this time self employed. i'd have my own brand and go to parties and draw people, and volunteer at the local children's hospital sometimes too and draw the hospitalized kids. im honestly just trying to think of ANY job that would help me ease up on being so reliant on social media for income, if possible, that would still be fun for me and not absolutely kill my mental health like my previous irl jobs did. dont get me wrong i love drawing yalls ocs! but i cant charge as much as i should be b/c i dont have enough of a following/demand, so i have to take a lot of commissions before im able to make a decent living. it sucks.
if i could charge more to where i only had to take maybe 3 commissions a month in order to make rent, thatd be ideal. id still love to do commissions for a living! i love drawing your blorbos and i honestly dislike the idea of going back to caricature art--its not my passion by a longshot and its very stressful to do live art so quickly. but im just trying to think of anything to help at this point u_u i cant get on ssi b/c then we wouldnt be able to use my bank account for income and we'd basically have No Money To Do Anything Freely Anymore. so i gotta just. stick with what im doing. IDEALLY id be able to take commissions and post art while not being necessarily Active on social media anymore, but idk how to make that work just yet or if thats even a thing i could do..
anyway. TL;DR im going to take a semi-break from social media/the internet for about a week, but i'll still post art + take commissions + accept messages from close friends on discord. i want to HEAL, man
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I hope by now people realize that Patreon isn’t going to create some sort of utopia of independent artists making independent shit. Like, what we see is:
You have to do unpaid work for years to maybe one day make enough money to live. Like unpaid internships: it takes privilege to do this.
If you can’t work unpaid for years you have to scrape by on sponsorships, which are just like employers but worse. A lot of artists have already shared stories about how hard it is to commit to a contract to produce a specific amount of sponsored content. It’s burn-out hell.
To get to any kind of success and stay there you have to please the algorithm. This requires persistent productivity without getting into topics that are too controversial. You’re overworked and on a leash.
If, If you get to a point where you can live from your patreon income: congratulations. Your employer is now your audience. So you better not rub them the wrong way. Your art can only be controversial so long as it doesn’t make your subculture of followers uncomfortable. Challenging your own subculture could threaten your survival. Pitching ideas that would genuinely improve your own community is very risky. You’re overworked and on a new leash.
Within 10 years, your time has probably run out. Like a show that has had too many seasons, people become bored with your specific style and move onto something else. Unless you have foreseen this and build a new future: you’re back to square one, looking for a job with 10 years in your resume that just says ‘podcast’ or ‘youtube channel’.
Is that better than some of the other options artists have? Yeah, probably. But let’s not pretend it’s perfect. Let’s recognize that constant burn-outs among patreon-funded artists for what they are: signs that there working conditions are not working well for most artists.
Personally I am glad that I took a regular paid job and never tried to live by monetizing my content (not that I ever had a serious chance). Half the posts that I am most proud of would never have been written if I had to worry about being liked by thousands of strangers on leftist social media. In that alternative reality I would probably hate writing about anarchism by now.
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Y'know I think the reason why I hate the term "content creator" isn't necessarily the word choice of calling stuff posted online "content". Superficially I don't think it's a bad idea to have an intentionally vague catch-all term a la "queer" that ensures gatekeeping is difficult by definition.
I think the actual reason why I hate the term "content creator" is that it places overwhelming focus on the end product, not on creation as a process or skillset. "Artist" "writer" "documentarian" "musician" or even a vague catch-all term like "creative" is much nicer to me because it's a term that places the emphasis on the human being and their skills and craft, rather than the output. If anything defines me it's not the actual final pictures I post on the internet, but the skills and techniques and methods of thinking I've incorporated into my being over my lifetime. Even with clients, the point of a portfolio isn't so much us showing off what we've created in the past, but is rather simply a means to demonstrate what skills we have developed. At a broader scope, it's also why a resumé is a list of skills, degrees, and workplace experiences first and foremost, with specific final outputs and projects being secondary if mentioned at all.
Conversely, "content creator" reduces all of that to the end product. It's a phrase that suggests a disinterest in the how and almost exclusively on the what. Here you're defined not by what skills you have as a person, but rather on what your output is: you are a creator of content, and the content is what's actually important above all else. The "creator" in "content creator" is but a mere means to an end, and the thing about being viewed as a means-to-an-end is that the people in charge will want to replace you with something more efficient if it'll result in the same end, in their mind.
Over the years we've been seeing the ongoing trivialisation of creatives at large: not just the NFT and AI art drivel, but also the replacement of practical effects and sets with CG solely because those workers are cheaper, the abuse of video game developers, the erosion of selling music as a viable income stream, the normalisation of spec work from writers and graphic designers, the list goes on. All of these events and more, in my view, have the same undercurrent of viewing final products and results as the most important thing in the creative process; care for the human beings who actually make the things is secondary at best.
Hence I don't think that a lot of the observations people make about tech dudebros flip-flopping between "art is immutably valuable and unique" for NFTs and "art is basically all the same and interchangeable" with AI isn't necessarily hypocrisy, because when you understand that these people view the tangible but inanimate final product, an entity that demands nothing of you nor will invite any protest if reduced to a single number on a spreadsheet, as the most important thing? Of course they have no problem doing both. It's also why you can't actually engage with these people on good faith; at the end of the day trying to appeal to their sense of morality when it comes to the welfare of human beings is not really what they're interested in, frankly.
It's the mass acceptance of "so long as we get the results, I don't care how we go about achieving them" which honestly freaks me out the most.
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so weird how ppl talk abt supporting artists but when those artists start getting sponsors or make art that's more marketable to try and stabilize their income they're suddenly sellouts and everyone starts installing extensions to blacklist them like?? lmfao go pay our bills if you want weird authentic art forever from a specific artist
and yea it's annoying when an artist starts making more boring main stream art but. alot of us make that type of art alongside our weird less marketable art! I've been trying to get back into spending more time on my pieces and doing art for myself, however I also have to pay off my student loans and pay for gas, groceries, etc.
I just find it weird how naive ppl are abt creatives in general. it IS annoying having sponsor sections in every video or ppl putting ads in their photo posts or constantly re-sharing shop stuff, but u know what'd be even more annoying? having to go hungry bc u wanna appear more "authentic" and less of a "sellout".
idk. I'm just tired of working jobs I hate and putting off art as a full time career. it takes alot of sacrifice so seeing complaints from ppl who don't understand being an artist isn't just living out of ur car and looking sad or whatever outdated stereotype they have abt independent artists is annoying lowkey
#sorry for the rant but this has been bothering me SO much#and well tumblr is a great place for me to rant abt stupid shit LOL#textoverlord#rant#negative#anyways shout out to all my other fellow career artists#it's hard out here
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woooo christmas oc art done !!!
(i respect artfight artists who are able to do mass attacks with like more than 20 characters. goodness gracious. how do they do it.)
anyways !!! the year of 2023 draws to an end. and honestly i'm quite happy with this year! broke through 1k followers on both instagram and tumblr, 600 on twt (i still hate that site), so thank you so much !!
anyways incoming cheesy message
i didn't really expect much from this year starting from january. i was in the tmnt fandom but i wasn't really interacting w it much because .. god that place is a toxic cesspool. i never really interact with fandoms much anyway, just draw one piece of fanart and enjoy the franchises from a Very safe distance away. but you can't really gain friends from just lurking in fandom spaces, so usually i felt pretty lonely. but thats how its been for me for a while.
that is, until february rolled around. i already knew of the game Doors since it got released - i played it through multiple times with friends and that was kinda it. just another roblox horror game quickie. then, i believe it was melly's animations that somehow dragged me into the fandom? that and also there was an uprise in doors content because of the hotel+ update. and there i saw the rooms creatures, in which i was like Oh My Godf i NEED to draw A-120, they are soso silly. they are so squiggle. (ambush was also my bbgirl<3). i NEED to make my own designs for them
aaaand uuh yeah that basically kickstarted my doors phase. i began to start my own AU of doors senVerse, and people loved it. people on here were so kind and welcoming, saying that they loved my designs and were also inspired by me? like woah, usually i'm the one getting inspired from others. people were getting inspiration from me?? heck, even looked up to me? that's crazy, i would've NEVER thought i'd get here ngl. explain this year to last year me and she would've NEVER believed you.
and that gave me motivation to continue my doors doodles.
i gained a lot of moots n friends from this fandom. and i MEAN a lot. heck i even made the decision to make a discord server and ohmygodf i do NOT regret that decision. i met and made cool friends and got closer to peeps on there, thanks for sticking around i love u guys<33
whether or not you followed me for doors content, stray, tmnt, heck even oc content, thank you so much for being here. thank you for liking, reblogging, commenting, or even sending me asks on my blog! i can't express my gratitude and appreciation enough in words. you've all helped me get through this year, so thankthankthank you, i love u all/p !!!!
i hope you're all having a wonderful holiday season as we come close to this year's end; merry christmas and have an amazing new year soon !!!
here's to a new year !! mwah !!!
-ness :3
#no way in HELL am i tagging all of them. dear lord#; startex: singularity#merry christmas :)#art#digital art#artists on tumblr#oc#oc art#oc artwork#oc doodle#oc sketch#oc artist#original character#original character art#furry oc#furry sfw#furry artist#anthro art#anthro oc#anthro character#anthro sfw#hydrx art#; cybertoxin
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So any word of Coupon Kids or are you unsure/trying to keep quiet about it for right now? I like quat's redesign. It's more visually distinct than the original.
tldr: I am trying to pick back up on Coupon Kids, reworking the story (yeah , the actual story) with a lot more intention! Idk how long it will take, but just know that I'm taking it seriously.
If you want the LONNGGG story of it, here it is!
Last time we left off in the comic, I was in quarantine with my niece and sister! I was helping to raise my niece so my sister could get out of a horribly abusive relationship. I was a full time nanny which was tough! Cause I had to still make rent from home on commissions, but no one was buying them because we all became RLY RLY poor all at once.... go figure.
I turned to Coupon Kids for support because umm I was kinda fucked tbh 6_6. I had run out of money and had no time to make more, but I SQUEEEZED out the last of the Halibut Jones arc! (which, even at the time of completion, I knew it was an underwhelming piece of work, but I finished it and I'm proud I did!) Thanks to everyone's support, I had enough financial padding that I could rely on Patreon's passive income and refocus on supporting my sister/niece as well as plan to make the move down south to continue my schooling once the quarantine let up. So thats where I had left the comic for the time being in terms of story, with a sprinkle of short strips here and there, but nothing plot related, because the plot was horribly fucked right from the get-go.
I had to take multiple severe hiatuses with Coupon Kids because I got my ass handed to me on several accounts through ought. Horrible breakup, friend break up, severe mental illness, best friend got cancer, best friend died, quarantine, unexpected parenthood, gallbladder disease, then school. All the while Coupon Kids was something I made in the deepest pits of my depression.
I absolutely hated my self, my work, and my art. That all looped back to being a strange source of peace for me to make stuff w/o fear of judgement. No one could hate Coupon Kids as much as I did. I was the #1 Coupon Kids hater and I ruined it by making it. (this is a retrospective pov obv... I dont think my work is worthless anymore thx wellbutrin lol)
Coupon Kids was very liberating to write in that I had no standards, but the lack of structure kinda eventually lead to its own downfall once I started to get better. I had a very loose idea of what I wanted the story to be, but I was so disoriented by chemical imbalance and weed (I smoked SOOO much weed) I didn't rly care about the ending because tbh I thought I was gonna be dead before I got anywhere near the ending. But then Kira died, So I officially abstained myself from death's sexy loins and committed myself to giving life another go.
Sorry for the autobio dump: its kinda hard to convey Coupon Kids development w/o getting into the nitty gritty of what I was going through at the time of making it. The point is this: I made Coupon Kids with the intention of it being a stain on my legacy- but then I ended up loving the stain and it's inhabitants. Its made coming back to it difficult, because I want to put genuine effort in it but that clashes with it's overall tone. Instead of creating in spite, I'd like to create it in celebration of my artistic short comings and to do that is to completely rework the entire moral of the story and all of the characters. If I'm gonna do it right, I'd like to take my time.
Not sure how many people made it to the end of this one! Sorry I'm so quiet about my process. tbh the last 4 years have been the best of my life despite holding a lot of dread. I'm doing a lot better now and am really excited to work on what I love and be grateful I have the power to do so ! So thank you for reading if you are still interested, it means a lot!
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Sharing this today because I don't think enough non-actors know: To qualify for SAG health insurance, you have to make at least $26,470 per calendar quarter. i.e. If you can hustle $26,470 in a quarter, you have health insurance for a year. At the end of that year you need to make another $26,470 in that next calendar quarter. (The bigger issue is the obvious need for universal healthcare, but, America.)
This is what the WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes are really all about:
SAG insurance is hard to get, even harder to keep if you develop a chronic illness that prevents you from working, or just haven't booked in a while, etc. Broadcast residuals were meant to help with that, with passive income to keep you qualified for insurance. Streaming's refusal to distribute broadcast comparable residuals has resulted in even high profile, heavily awarded, multiple season jobs not being enough to earn healthcare.
The cast of Orange Is the New Black essentially worked for exposure, as have the rest of us since then.
This is why we've been yelling about AI:
Gift link, no paywall: https://wapo.st/43rubnB
Opinion It’s fine. We don’t need human actors.
"My dear shareholders! Do not worry about the fact that all the screen actors and screenwriters are on strike.
If there is one thing I have figured out about the meaning of life and the meaning of art, it is that art is something that should be entirely the product of machines and robots while people march around with picket signs and complain that they cannot afford food and housing. Also, no one should ever be paid a residual, whatever that is. I just don’t like the sound of it.
When our ancestors sat around the cave fires at night, sure, they told stories. Certainly, they scrawled on the walls of their caves, but as an executive, I know for a fact that they hated that part of being alive so much. They said to themselves, “Someday, when we have indoor plumbing and can live as we choose, we will be able to delegate this tiresome dreaming and telling of stories entirely to robots and billionaires. The only good part of drawing mammoths on the walls of caves is the fact that I, the illustrator, am not being compensated monetarily in any way for doing so.” (This primal yearning for people to not be compensated for their creative efforts except in exposure is something that has driven artists for a long time and we hope will continue to drive them, in case our AI idea backfires.)
We will be fine without these humans with their so-called faces and voices and acting. If Marvel films thus far have not been populated entirely by CGI characters, it is only for want of sufficient motivation, and I’m sure we can fix that."
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DREW + 4, 12, and 23
OKAY. TUMBLR'S LETTING ME ANSWER THIS ONE NOW. hellsite. Long post. I joked about being normal and hinged on the other ask about him I answered and CONGRATS, you get unhinged and long-winded thoughts! Curse of being my friend, I'm comfortable being unwell around you and now you get a dissertation <3.
4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?
I mean, here's the thing. Literally any answer is objectively going to be hilarious. He's absurd in whatever you throw him at. Off the top of my head. Skyrim. Any romcom ever. Red Dead Redemption. Zelda. Great British Bake-Off. Like. Literally anything is really funny to imagine kdjfhskjf. Real answer, though, I think he would THRIVE as a Stardew Valley townie. That seems genuinely up his alley. Little florist's shop with a greenhouse in the back, a small-town with plenty of wilderness around to explore, and damn it now I just want to make an SDV pokeani au.
12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?
Long section incoming. Lol. Sorry. I have.... thoughts. A couple of 'em, even. Not adding a read-more because at this rate tumblr's gonna auto-shorten this for me.
kdjfhdskjfhdsjfhdsj. okay. You, the one asking this, already know WAY TOO MANY OF MY HEADCANONS ABOUT HIM and you are complicit in all of them lmfao. Assuming the french-canadian thing doesn't count since it's arguably canon (?), here's a potentially ~controversial~ one that literally nobody is obligated to agree with, dw, but I can back it up (sort of) (as much as you can back up ANYTHING in AG): I do not think Drew stays in coordinating in the long-term. Here's the thing. Think about episodes where he's being annoying and high-strung (/affectionate). Now, think about episodes where he seems to actually have serotonin for once. In group one, high-strung, you're going to get a lot of contest (like, contests on stage, not shorthand for shipping)/competition themed episodes. I have my... OPINIONS (/derogatory) about the Absol scene in Thinning the Hoard!, but I can use that as an example of "Well. This can't be great for his emotional wellbeing." EVIDENTLY it stresses him the fuck out. He's never more moody and stressed than he is in grand festivals/contests. But, in group two where he's actually kinda chill (albeit still himself), we have episodes where he's out doing literally anything other than coordinating- Unbeatable Lightness, WWWWW (why is he more relaxed in the episode where he drowns than the episodes where he wins ribbons?), On Cloud Arcanine. Hell, even contest episodes where he's not the one competing! He seems genuinely happier outside of contests.
This isn't even getting into my thoughts on coordinating fame and canon's portrayal of it (which is actually interesting and consistent, if unelaborated on). Some people thrive in that attention. Others won't. I think Drew genuinely loves the ART of contests. The planning of it, the technical side, working out strategies and appeals. And he's good at it. But the other parts of coordinating are things he struggles with and is uneasy with (also seen briefly in Unbeatable Lightness, A Fan With A Plan, and Spontaneous Combusken, my beloved absolute dumpster fire of an episode).
Now, it's a real shame to headcanon him as someone driven out of a career he loves by the culture of it and to just leave it on that sour note, though- so, where does he go from there? I've spoken to friends about it and there's different schools of thought about this- the one I usually lean towards personally is a career change that still allows him to partake in the parts of coordinating that he loved without the parts he hated, like becoming a mentor of sorts for new coordinators. I can see him being, like, a coordinating professor of sorts. Something that still allows the artistic expression and self-challenge, but more contained and focused specifically on the parts he loves about it. I can see him finding more satisfaction through teaching and nurturing others' talents and watching THEM go off and win rather than putting himself through it.
And obviously, his entire canon character is about how he's good at coordinating! This is maybe a weird take that sort of takes canon and does a hard pivot, so absolutely no need to agree at all, and I LOOOOVE interpretations where he stays and thrives in it! Because honestly, on a selfish note, the less he does coordinating the less I have to worry about the rules of contest appeals and battles, so. Can't say I don't have a personal stake in this. Because dear god do not make me try to understand the gen 3 anime's contest point system or lack thereof, what the FUCK.
Anyways. Thoughts. I have them. Sometimes. On occasion.
23. Favorite picture of this character?
lmao. BUT also 1.) every single face he's ever made at Harley, and 2.) every single face he makes in Unbeatable Lightness, which I think this is the third time I've mentioned it here BUT IT'S A GOOD EPISODE AND I'M NOT TAKING ALTERNATE OPINIONS ON THAT! If the sunset scene rewired my brain chemistry as a kid for probably the worse, then that's everyone else's problem and not mine. insert Taylor Swift "Drew looks-" FUCK YEAH MAN HE SURE DOES!!!!!
#non pokeani mutuals . do not worry about this. we're all really normal here :)#taylor's tag#taylor talks#drew#THANK YOU TAYLOR. taylor^2
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Summer Event! 💕
Matcha Green Tea Ice Cream,
Kitchen Sink option but make it a surprise!
Thank you for being so understanding & sweet, I get really anxious if you can't tell haha. You're a dear💕✨
Order up!! One matcha green tea cone with everything but the kitchen sink for Eri!!
Sky's Summer and 250 Follower Event!
☾ Pairings ➼ janitor!Levi Ackerman x fem!people-pleaser!Reader
☾ Content/Warnings ➼ modernAU, meet-cute(kinda?), familial trauma, hurt/comfort, fluff, accidental therapy (for me), corporate ick
☾ Author's Note ➼ Hi Eri!! Thank you so much for sending this request in. I was a little worried with the whole "make it a surprise" because I struggle with lack of structure BUT I'm so proud of how this came out. I couldn't stop writing, as you can see. This might be a little self-indulgent and I hope I got the emotions right since I struggle with them. I just want Levi to call me out on my shit, okay?? Anyways, I hope you enjoy!! love you k bye *smooches*
☾ Word Count ➼ ~7.6k (oops)
“Hi, you’re the new hire right? It’s nice to meet you, I’m Carol from a few rows down. Listen, I hate to do this to you since you’re so new but you’re the only one I can ask. Would you be able to do the data entry on the Sina job? I can’t stay past closing tonight due to my set plans and unfortunately it’s due tomorrow morning. Could you help me out? I’ll pay you back!”
The voice of your overly excited brunette coworker reverberates through your skull as you type away at your desk, the bright light of your monitor biting at your eyes just like the migraine you feel in the back of your head. You had a feeling that this is not the first time the people in the office have picked on the newcomers, and you bet it wouldn’t be the last. You chalk it up the fact that you were still in the office past seven in the evening doing someone else’s work because they dropped the stack of papers on your desk before you could say anything back, but you knew better. Damn your pathological people pleasing tendencies.
Your chair squeaks as you lean back in it, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose as you sigh heavily. It’s a handful of days into your first week and you’re already daydreaming about your next vacation. An office job was not your first go to, but as all struggling artists do, you needed this job to supplement your income until your art took off – if that ever happened.
Thoughts of how much longer you’d have to be here swirl through your mind when you’re interrupted by a loud thunk a few cubicles down. It startles you so much that you jump up as your eyes shoot open, hand over your heart in an attempt to calm it. You weren’t aware of anyone else in the building so you can’t help but think there might be a mass murderer just feet away from you. Steeling your resolve, you push yourself up from your chair and carefully peek over the half wall to see what had made that noise.
At first you don’t see anything as your eyes adjust from seeing nothing to the semi-lit office floor from the setting sun and dimmed overheads. Down the row, you see the back of a man in what you assume to be a gray janitor’s suit. An undercut peeks between short raven locks, neck lines sharp giving away to a clean cut. It doesn’t seem like he notices you’re there as his attention is focused on the waste basket in front of him.
You sit back down slowly, heaving a heavy sigh from relief that it was indeed not a mass murderer – well, that you know of. He didn’t seem threatening from far away at least. Your hands hover on the keyboard as you do your best to blink away the tired. Only a few more pages now, you reassure yourself.
An hour later, miraculously you find yourself down to the last page. The miscellaneous words and numbers swim off the page as you force yourself to focus. With the promise of a late night treat, you finally make it down to the last line. Just as you’re about to hit ‘enter’, something kicks the back of your chair causing you to yelp loudly and slam down on the keys harder than you meant.
“What are you still doing here?” A deep voice grumbles from behind you, making your ears twitch at the sudden volume difference. You twist around in your chair to see who the voice belongs to and you’re surprised to see it coming from the janitor you saw earlier. What’s even more surprising is how young he looks, and handsome to boot - despite the look he’s giving you. Stark gray-blue lidded eyes stare down at you as he scowls, eyebrows pinched together. He doesn’t look pleased.
“I-I’m sorry. I’m working on some…” Your voice falters when his expression turns into annoyance.
“You’re in my way.” He simply states as he leans against a vacuum you only now notice sitting under his arm. Was your focus so strong that you completely missed the sounds of him cleaning around you?
“Oh, uh. Yeah, let me get out of your way then.” You say timidly, pushing yourself out of the chair. You’re face to face with him at standing height, even in your work heels. This was a very intimidating man despite his short stature.
“I’m not going to clean with you breathing down my neck.” He grumbles, eyes narrowing at you like you asked him the most offensive question known to man. Your lips part as you struggle to find your words, but nothing comes out as you find yourself low-key panicking.
“I c-can just-”
“Just finish what you’re working on, I’ll just come back.” He rolls his eyes before walking away, leaving you and the vacuum illuminated by your computer screen. You ball your hands in fists to keep them from shaking.
Exhaling a weak breath, you sit back down and force yourself to focus on the last line of data instead of the glowering expression of your office’s janitor.
.
You slam your forehead into the vinyl coating of your desk, not hard enough to leave a bruise but enough to hear the echoes of contact through the whole floor. It’s nearing seven at night again and you’re still in office catching up on yet another coworker’s workload.
When they asked what plans you had tonight, you didn’t think that saying you were going home to watch TV would bite you in the ass. If you were completely honest, you had quietly hoped they might be asking if you wanted to go out for drinks with them. After all, they were the only ones that had really talked to you in the past few weeks but you’re starting to wonder if they were just trying to butter you up to get you to say yes to their requests.
Who were you kidding though, you would have said yes anyways because the word ‘no’ didn’t exist in your vocabulary. You wish you weren’t so aware of that fact because not only are you stressed out, you’re full of self loathing. A groan escapes your lips.
“Still doing other people’s work?” You hear a familiar voice grumble from behind.
After lifting your head up from the cool desk, you swivel around in your chair to see the janitor – this time in dark blue. A white handkerchief wraps around his face, covering his mouth and nose so that all you see are his tired eyes. A same-colored bandana adorns his head with some of his bangs falling into his eyes. You bite your tongue to keep yourself from asking what the point of the bandana was if it didn’t keep his hair out of his face.
It takes you a moment to find your voice, partly from not using it for so long but also because of the steady unfriendly feeling radiating off him. He raises an eyebrow at you as you stare up at him almost dumbfounded.
“I- who said I was doing other people’s work?” You finally make out, voice trembling.
“You’re new, right? The office goons do that to every newbie that comes in.” He folds his arms over his chest and you see that his sleeves are rolled up to show his toned forearms, muscles popping up from the position they’re in. Your eyes flicker back up to his, blinking slowly.
“I’m sure but they needed the help, so...”
“Because they would rather slack off than do any work. They’re taking advantage of you and you’re falling for it? You’re an adult, right?” There isn’t malice in his words but they still sting.
“Of course I am! I work here, don’t I?” Your eyes widen in emphasis, sweeping your hands around you.
“Tch, that doesn’t make you an adult. I’ve been here for years and I’ve seen my fair share of children.” His scowl reappears at those words. You’ve never met someone so grumpy.
You close your mouth at that, not sure what else to say. He clicks his tongue and flips a small towel over his shoulder. Turning on his heel, he sets off down the aisle without another word, the sounds of his heavy boots getting quieter.
You don’t get done until 10:30 that night. On your way out, you pass by the janitor who was currently on the inside of the board meeting glass walls, wiping them down with what you suppose is glass cleaner. His eyes meet yours as you walk by and you offer a small wave and smile even though his short words still sting. You think he’s going to ignore you but instead, he gives you a curt nod.
.
The janitor’s words swim through your mind the next time you’re asked to stay behind to help out. You spent the last couple of weeks doing your best practicing in the shower on setting boundaries with your coworkers but when the person who came to you next was your supervisor, how could you say no.
You were in the middle of packing your bag while lost in thought of your weekend plans when she came to you. You’re thinking you might stop by the evening market by the river before heading home with some food from the local vendors when a finger taps on your shoulder followed by your name coming out in a honey-laced voice.
“Hey, I just wanted to stop by and commend you on being such a team player in the last month. It’s something we find rare in someone as young as you and of course we’re grateful.” Your red-haired boss beams down at you while she talks. The feeling of ice pricks in your veins at what you know was coming next.
“I’m really sorry to come to you so last minute and on a Friday no less, but because of your wonderful work ethic, you’re the only one I can trust to complete The Warrior Project. It’s been extremely slow going and we need it done by Monday. Do you think you can stay behind and help us out?” She offers you an apologetic smile, eyes boring into yours with sincerity.
You wished you could have said no but the words died before they made it out of your mouth, instead agreeing meekly with a fake smile.
So now here you sit at your desk with the dying rays of light rising higher against the back walls as the sun sets, fingers flying across the keyboard. You suppose you’ll have to stop by the late night convenience store on the way home for some dinner; your face scrunches up at the thought of your very limited choices.
“If you type any harder, you’ll break it.” You don’t bother to turn around at the voice, knowing damn well who it was.
“I’m sure they’ll get me another one. They need me to finish this, after all.” You mutter the last part under your breath. The smell of something sweet and tangy hits your nose and on contact, your stomach rumbles loudly.
Swiveling in your chair, you’re met with the janitor who’s simultaneously holding a feather duster as well as a bag of what looks like Chinese take-out. Your eyes widen at the sight, bouncing back and forth between the objects in his hand.
“Are you here to eat or dust?” You ask, finally looking up to his face. There’s no expression on his pretty face. You still haven’t gotten over how stunning he was, with his pointed nose and pouty bottom lip. Today he has his janitor uniform half on, the sleeves of the suit tied around his waist so that it’s only pants. Tucked in is a black t-shirt that shows more of his muscular arms. He’s not ripped by any means but it’s very obvious he exercises on his time off.
“I’m here to dust. This is for you to eat.” He says dryly, shoving the bag in your direction. Once again, you find your words stolen as you stare at the brown paper bag that sits curled in his pale fingers. Your eyes shift back and forth between his face and the food.
“F-for me? Why?”
“Whenever I see you here late, you never eat. You need to take better care of yourself.”
“I eat when I get home.” You retort back softly. A late night meal for you consists of a single serving bag of chips and whatever looked edible at the convenience store – but you wouldn’t tell him that.
“Just eat it.” He pushes it forward to you again, the warm smells of food wafting past your nose. It smelled like heaven.
“I- no. I can’t take that, it’s yours!” You wave your hands in front of your chest in a dismissive manner. A dark eyebrow shoots up his face.
“So she can say no.” He reaches over you and places the paper bag down on your desk. Along with the smells of delicious food, the scent of clean laundry and musky pine tickles your nose. It’s a very pleasant combination, and one you were not expecting. “Eat it, throw it away, I don’t care.” He says casually before turning around and walking off. Your hand reaches out in an attempt to stop him, but he’s long gone.
Twisting your chair around, you eye the paper bag for a moment before finally caving. Your stomach is about to eat itself and he had paid for it, so you don’t want to waste it. Why he would care enough about you to order food is a mystery, though.
Upon opening the contents, you’re greeted with a small foil dish with a plastic covering holding what you believe is orange chicken. A little white box off to the side contains sticky rice and in the little plastic package next to it holds some spring rolls – all still steaming hot and smelling wonderful.
You spend the next half hour scarfing down your dinner while thinking about how you’d pay the janitor back. The flush that started creeping up your cheeks at the end of your encounter with him stays even when you go to bed late that night.
.
The week after, you intentionally slow down on your daily work so that you had a reason to stay late and finish it. But much to your dismay, you don’t see the janitor anywhere. You’d leave each night a little embarrassed at yourself for being so excited for someone you’ve talked to a handful of times, but to your benefit you had a reason for your madness.
Finally, you gather enough courage to peep your head over your half-wall and grab your coworker’s attention – whose attention was on a mobile game in his hands and not on the spreadsheets in front of his face.
“Ryan?” You whisper-shout down. Your brunette coworker’s eyes shoot up to yours, almost in a panic.
“What? Is the boss lady making her rounds?” He asks back. You sweep your eyes around the office floor and finally find your supervisor who was currently in a meeting with other board members.
“She’s busy, you’re fine. I actually had a question?” You didn’t realize how soft you were speaking until he stood up to meet you, towering a good foot above you with his ear down to you.
“What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you knew when the janitor might be back? I haven’t seen him in a few days.” You subconsciously start picking at your nails – a nervous habit.
Ryan stares at you as he processes your words before throwing his head back in bellowing laughter. You’re quick to shush him and duck your head down from the glares aimed your way at such a loud disturbance.
“Not so loud!!” You whisper-shout again.
“I’m sorry, I’m just curious why you want to know? He doesn’t like anyone, and no one likes him.” He shrugs his shoulders. You so badly want to tell him to shut up and that you like him, but instead you settle on trying to get him to answer your question.
“Well, what’s his schedule?” You narrow your eyes in hopes of getting the message across that you were serious.
“Well, that’s the thing, he’s always working. Sometimes even on the weekends. From what I heard, his cleaning routes are the same every week. He doesn’t get to our floor until late in the week. He has a thing for cleaning, so I heard, and that’s why there’s only one janitor contracted. He’s so weird.” Ryan rolls his eyes as he rests his chin against the top of the wall.
“What’s his name?”
“Why do you care so much about the janitor?” It’s Ryan’s turn to narrow his eyes to you. You’re asking too many questions and he’s getting far too nosy about your business. It’s best to retreat for now.
“Uh, it’s nothing. Thank you.” You squeak before plopping yourself down at your chair and pretending to click around on your word documents until you no longer feel the pierce of your coworker’s stare.
So he’s always here, you think. You’re just missing him on your way down. You bite back a smile as you glance down to the clock at the bottom corner of your screen. The time reads 4:37pm and it’s a Thursday which meant that he would be around your floor this evening. Perfect. Your eyes sweep over to your bag in your excitement.
In the time it takes for you to wait for the gray-blue eyed janitor, you’ve finished half of the next day’s work. A part of you starts to wonder if he isn’t coming tonight, that it may be tomorrow instead, and weirdly you find yourself hoping one of your coworkers would ask you to help them out again so that you had a reason to stay.
“That’s so stupid.” You say out loud as you stir sugar into the black tea you had spent the last 5 minutes steeping. You’re standing in the office break room, lost in thought.
“I’m sure the mug doesn’t feel that way.” That voice makes your heart flutter, and you bite back the smile that threatens to curve into your face. Instead, you pinch your lips together and turn around.
The janitor is there alright, uniform zipped up tight as he holds a spray bottle and a rag. He’s leaning against the doorframe of the break room, arms folded across his chest. His black hair falls into his face, almost kissing the corners of his heavy-lidded eyes as they watch you intently.
“Ah, there you are!” You exclaim, pointing your spoon at him.
“Here I am.”
“I have something to give you as payback for dinner last week.” You muse, grinning at him. His eyes widened briefly before going back to normal.
“And why would you do that?”
“Because I’m grateful for it, dummy.” Carefully, you place your spoon next to your mug and walk towards him until you’re face to face. It takes him a moment to realize you were waiting for him to move, and carefully he backs away so that you have room to escape.
“Stay here, I’ll be right back.” You order before dashing off to your cubicle.
When you come back with the gift in hand, you see that the janitor hadn’t moved an inch. His intimidating eyes follow you as you stop in front of him, slightly breathless from speed walking back. An eyebrow raises at you as he waits for you to catch your breath.
“I-ah. Okay. So. I made these for you. I ended up having to make a fresh batch because I didn’t see you for a bit and I didn’t want to feed you stale cookies so. Anyways, here. Thank you for feeding me last week.” You beam up at him as you hold your hands out to show him your gift.
It’s a small plastic bag wrapped with a pastel bow. The contents of the bag include bite sized cookies that you spent all last night remaking in hopes you would see him again. They’re pale yellow in color, dusted with a light coat of cane sugar. His eyes widen again at your gesture, this time staying big as they stare at the bag in your hand like its gold.
“You… made these for me?” His voice is low.
“I did! I don’t know if you like sweets but these are my mother’s recipe and her cookies were never that sweet. Pretty much the sweetness comes from the sugar on top. The rest are just buttery goodness.” You gush as you stare off in thought, the happy memories of your mom making these cookies for you flooding your brain.
When your eyes fall back to the raven-haired man, you’re almost tempted to run away in embarrassment. His neutral expression stares back at you and you take a small step back.
“I’m sorry, this is probably weird. You don’t have to take them actually. In fact, I’ll just le-“
“No, you’re fine. I uh, I appreciate it.” He quickly reaches out and grabs the bag, the sound of crinkling plastic taking up space in the nearly empty mess room. You offer him a small smile, grateful that he accepted the gift. His eyes trail past you and onto the kitchen counter behind you. He purses his lips as he thinks but finally opens his mouth to speak.
“Pour that disgusting excuse for a tea out and follow me. Bring the mug.” He says tersely before turning on his heels and out the door. You blink hard a few times as your brain processes his words but quickly you find yourself dumping out the tea and chasing after him down the cubicle aisles.
Soon, you’re sitting on the ground with the janitor as he pours steaming amber liquid from the thermos he pulled out of his cleaning cart just mere moments ago. It splashes into the bottom of your mug and fills it quickly, then he hands it over to you as he starts speaking.
“So are you a workaholic or…” He gives you a side eye.
“I should be asking you that. I’ve been told you work practically every day, even on weekends.” You hold the mug by the handle as you stare down into the cup. “Is this…?”
“It’s tea and no I didn’t poison it.”
“What was wrong with the tea I had?”
“Stale tea leaves don’t make for a good cup of tea.” He states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “No, I’m not a workaholic. I like to clean, and I get paid for it. Plus, I’m left alone. Usually.” He grumbles the last part, but you don’t detect any hostility in his voice.
“Well, I’m not either. A-a workaholic, I mean.”
“No, I suppose not. Just a people pleaser then?” His statement makes you splutter on the tea you had just sipped on. Despite it going almost everywhere, the bitter taste of the dark leaves bite at your taste buds. It’s unsweetened and you can’t keep the slight look of distaste off your face. Luckily, it’s covered up by the glare you shoot his way.
You don’t say anything back at that, knowing any denial would have been a lie but you didn’t want to confirm it either. However, you can’t hold back the annoyance that simmers in your chest at such a presumptuous statement, from someone you hardly know, no less.
“Beats being disliked by everyone.” You mutter finally, setting your mug on the floor next to you. Your eyes drift to the floor-to-ceiling window you were both sitting in front of. The last dreg of golden sunlight warms your face as you stare out into the bustling city as they prepare for the evening.
“You say that like it should bother me.”
“Shouldn’t it though?”
“Why would it?”
“Don’t you want people to like you?” You whisper softly, dragging your gaze over to his face. There’s no readable expression on his face as he sips his tea out of the top of his thermos lid. He’s holding it in a way you’ve never seen before – long fingers gripping the metal from the top rim and tilting it back into his mouth.
“I don’t give a shit if they like me or not.” He says finally as he gives you a side eye.
You’re not sure if your surprise at his callous attitude is warranted or not. Your interactions with him have been few and far in between but that night he got you dinner, you thought maybe he was a little more caring than that.
“Why do you care if people like you anyway?” He leans back on a hand, his other cradling his cup.
“I just- well. I don’t know.” You say simply. You do know.
“I read this thing about people-pleasers. It said that they’re great manipulators. They bend and break just so that others tolerate and like them, pretending to be something they’re not. Are you trying to get something out of it?”
Your eyes snap to his, feeling the heat behind your stare at his insinuation. Where did he get off calling you a manipulator? A pretender? Despite the subtle rage dancing in your eyes, you give him a smile and push yourself off the ground, grabbing your mug on your way up.
“Thank you for the tea. I really must be going now.” You say politely, voice coming out higher than you meant.
“Tch.” Is all you get back.
With that, you turn on your heel and head back to the break room to pour your tea out and rinse the mug, leaving it out on the rack to dry. You’re quick to gather your things before practically running down the aisles to the elevator, down to the front door, and towards home. A lump in your throat stays even after your shower and still when you lie down for the night.
.
After your last encounter with the janitor, you find that you’re rushing home as soon as you can. You aren’t necessarily mad at him for telling you a hard truth, but the rumination of having someone being annoyed at you doesn’t go away.
Your evasive tactics work for a while. Your office was in between projects and jobs so no one had come to you for help for anything. But of course that didn’t stay that way for long and your luck would run out as it always had as the quarter was about to close. Your supervisor came to you early on a rainy Tuesday morning to tell you that some freak accident had happened to the last reports which made the data you spent days organizing completely disappear.
You don’t know what was more frustrating: the fact that your hard work from the last week had completely vanished or the fact that no one in the office offered to give a helping hand when you needed it the most.
Your supervisor apologized and said the entries needed to be done by the next morning so they could be submitted in time for the quarter review. With a forced smile and false-positive voice, you agreed and got started on it right away.
This was about 12 hours ago.
The only thing that brings you solace is the knowledge that the janitor was not due for your floor for a couple days so at least you could work on it without worrying about running into him. And thankfully for you since you were semi-prepared for being held back, you ordered pizza for dinner before the front doors locked for the evening.
For some reason, you find yourself sitting on the floor in the same spot you had shared bitter tea with the janitor. You’re lying on your back with your phone hovering as you scroll on it mindlessly, a more than half filled pizza box next to you with the lid propped open slightly. There’s a vacation photo that pops up from one of your acquaintances that makes your chest tighten from envy.
“You’re in my way, brat.” A voice from above rings out. It startles you so much that your fingers loosen on your phone, and it comes smacking into your face with a loud slap. Your eyes scrunch shut from the stinging pain radiating from your nose as you groan softly.
You sit up from your position, making sure to grab your phone before it falls on the ground, and turn to narrow your eyes at the perpetually scowling janitor. You hear a subtle pop in your back as you do.
“What are you doing here?” Your voice comes out more accusatory than you meant, and you end up clearing your throat before giving him a forced smile.
“I’m working. That’s more than I can say for you.”
“You’re not supposed to be on this floor today.”
“Says who?” An eyebrow quirks at your statement.
The words die on your tongue because even you knew that one person’s word was not enough to be reliable. You reach over to close the pizza box and gather your things to leave. He doesn’t say anything and only stares while you push yourself up onto your feet.
“I’ll just get out of your way, then.” You mumble, bending down to grab the pizza box in one hand and your empty cup in the other. As you brush past him, you can’t help but wonder if he’s still mad at you, though you can’t logically find a reason why he would be mad in the first place. And if he was, then what did you do? These thoughts are jarred as a vibration in your back pocket alerts you to a notification. Upon more buzzes and the start of your soft ringtone, you realize it’s a phone call.
Stepping over to the nearest desk, you set your stuff down and pull out your phone. On the screen is the caller ID for your mom, her faux-happy face staring straight at you as the lights around it pulse. You don’t fight the grimace that etches into your features. Hitting the green button, you regret it immediately.
“Hi mom!” You exclaim, forcing another smile on your lips.
“There you are! I really thought you had died on us.”
“Of course, I’m not dead. Just busy!” You state happily, turning around to face the windows again. A relieved sigh escapes when you notice the janitor is no longer standing where he was.
“You should call us more. You know I was talking to our neighbor about you recently! Remember Donna and her kids? Apparently her youngest just got engaged. And it got me thinking…” Your mother’s words trail off as your eyes glaze over. Your pulse is steadily picking up speed with every word, and you grip the edge of the desk tightly to keep yourself grounded.
“Anyways, both of your sisters are coming to visit with their little families. When are you planning to come by? It would be nice to have everyone home again. Maybe this time with a man on your arm?”
“Oh, I don’t know, mom. I just started here, so getting the time off will be a little hard to do right away. But I will ask my supervisor, and see? I want to see everyone too.” Your voice wavers a little as the muscles in your face start to hurt from your smile.
“Your grandmother is asking about you, you know. I had to come up with some excuse about why you’re so far away, and single no less.”
“I’m working on it. I’ll give her a call soon.” Tears prick in the corners of your eyes.
“Well, I’m sure you are, honey. Oh, your little sister is calling, I need to go. Please call us more!” And just like that, the line goes silent as she hangs up.
“I’ll call tomorrow, I guess.” You whisper down at the blank screen. Setting your phone down, you press the heels of your palms into your eyes to get rid of the wetness that threatens to overflow. You practically feel your heart beating right out of your chest as your mom’s words float around your head.
“I see where it comes from now.” The janitor’s deep voice comes from the right of you. When you pull your hands away to look at him, he’s holding out a steaming mug to you. Hesitantly, you take it. The color of the liquid is lighter in color and smells slightly floral. A mile’s difference from the last thing he shared with you.
“Where what comes from?” You mutter before bringing the cup to your lips. It’s hot but not unbearably so. The taste is gentle and has a touch of sweetness to it. It’s pleasant, and not something you were expecting.
“Your people-pleasing tendencies.” He leans against the half wall next to him as he eyes you.
“Please do enlighten me, as I’m not sure what you’re getting at.” You reply back in a monotone voice. You were tired in more ways than one. Slaving away at this project that you were only 80% done with. Staying late, lack of sleep, and now your mother calling. You were tired and you can’t mask anymore.
“Let me guess.” He raises his hand and taps a finger against his chin in thought. “Middle child. Your parents always apologized for what you lacked. Always felt like you had to put in extra effort to be seen and walking on eggshells so that when you are seen, no one pulls away. You’re starving for real, positive attention.” Again, none of his words come out malicious but they really sting. This man hardly knows you and yet he’s spreading your entire childhood out like it was nothing.
You’re tired.
“Yeah. Exactly that. And it’s infuriating. Not to drag on my sisters because they’re doing their best and they have the same parents I have but it’s like…” You take another sip of the honey liquid before continuing, feeling the heat of not only the tea but also anger burning in your chest. Your eyes drift back to the front window.
“I can’t stop myself from doing above and beyond on the off chance I might be liked and appreciated. I’m putting in all this hard work and still it doesn’t matter. I’m just so tired.”
The sun is all but gone and is replaced by the city lights that illuminate the indigo sky above. The janitor stays quiet through all of this as he takes in your words. You’ve never told anyone any of this before, and part of you feels liberated. The other part feels guilty for putting something so heavy on someone who probably doesn’t even care.
“So, what if it doesn’t matter? Why are you putting so many expectations on yourself? You’re just one person.” He stands up from the wall and walks around it so that he’s face to face with you. His arms are folded across his chest again as he eyes you warily before continuing.
“I spend everyday cleaning after you shits and no one sees that. And yet, what I do matters because otherwise this place would be a shithole. You do not have to bend over backwards so people can see your accomplishments, they still exist whether they see it or not. But, say they approve of your help, then what?”
“What do-” Your fingers grip tight on the handle of your mug.
“They say thank you for doing what they asked you to do, then what? Do you keep up with their demands?”
“If I have to.”
“And what do you gain from that outside of exhaustion?”
You want to lie so bad. You want to say that you get a lot of enjoyment from making others happy. That you gain happiness for making others smile because you did what they ask of you. But you realize that putting yourself out there for the sake of others is wearing you down. And you aren’t actually happy.
“I don’t.” Your voice cracks and when you blink next, your sight is blurry.
“That’s what I’m saying. You bend and you bend for these short bursts of attention but you don’t need it. The only thing that should matter to you is your wellbeing. The rest comes after.” His voice retains the same dryness as it had before, but there’s an unmistaken lilt of tenderness.
You look away from his gaze and wipe the corners of your eyes with the back of your hand as you take a shaky breath.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but why do you care so much about me?” You offer him a small smile to hopefully deter any ill will that statement could bring up.
“Tch, don’t get me wrong, you’re still annoying. But, I can’t stand watching people tear themselves down for the sake of others. You’re here to live for yourself, not for them.” His steely eyes roll to the ceiling before landing back on you.
“Right. Well. I’ll keep that in mind.” You smile at him, a genuine one that squeezes your eyes closed. “Thank you for taking the time to talk to me, even if your words are a little rough.” He huffs at that then nods curtly, tapping his foot on the ground.
“On that note, I need to-“
“Will you stay with me?” Your words come out faster than you can stop yourself. A sudden burst of warmth blooms into your face. “I-I mean, if you want. I just have this pizza left and-“
“Do you want me to stay?” He stares hard at you as he reads your reaction. You have a feeling he’s testing you.
Do you want that?
Yes, you do.
“Please stay?”
He considers you for a moment before relaxing, his arms falling to his sides.
“Okay.”
Once again, you find yourself on the floor with the janitor, knees tucked into your chest as you’re lost in thought. He sits a few feet away, slowly chewing on a just heated up piece of pizza while he stares out into the night. Your eyes never leave his face, watching the way his long eyelashes tickle his cheekbones and the way his hair falls in his face. You notice the dark circles that bruise the underside of his eyes.
“Do you ever take time off?” You ask softly.
“I never needed to.”
“You look really tired.”
“That’s just my face.” You laugh at that and he gives you a side eye. He wasn’t expecting that from you.
“Where would you go if you ever took time off?” You ask despite the fact he might ignore you as he didn’t seem the type to indulge such stupid questions, but he surprises you.
“Home.” He says without skipping a beat.
“Home? Really? Are you not home that often that you miss it more or something?”
“It’s quiet and all of my things are there. Where else would I go?” He stares at you with a perturbed expression. His dry voice adds to his comment and you find it very endearing. You think you see his lip twitch, but it might have been your imagination.
“What about you?”
Leaning back on your hands, you stretch your legs out with a soft groan and stare out the window. By this time, it’s well into 9pm and you still have work to do. But with the janitor staring at you, you find yourself pushing the thought of work away for now.
“Don’t laugh. But I really want to experience a day in that park off of Centennial. I heard it’s really nice in the afternoon because of the trees and little river that cuts through it. I would love to just sit out on a blanket and draw for a bit.” You say wistfully. You can already feel the heat of the sun against your skin.
“You’re an artist?”
“Yeah, struggling and starving as most are. But I draw when I can.”
He hums softly. “That sounds like a good day.” He says, wiping his hands on the towel that was tied to his utility belt around his waist.
You beam over to him at that. You again think to yourself of why people don’t like him. He was blunt and a little tactless, but he was caring and empathetic. Something you wouldn’t see from the outside. You liked him for just being himself with you.
Realization dawns on you at what his words meant earlier. Just being you was enough. You matter.
“Thank you.” You say simply, a toothy grin pointed his way.
.
A month passes and you find yourself steadily settling more into your job. You haven’t seen the janitor much since that one night. When you got home after that conversation, you made a promise you would only do things that you wanted to do for the sake of yourself and not others. The next time your coworker came to you for help, you were able to put your foot down and tell them no. Your voice and hands shook the whole time, but since then you haven’t been bothered. Unfortunately, you helped your supervisor when asked but you are proud of the progress that you made with your boundaries.
And now, here you are on a blanket in Centennial Park on a Thursday, lying on your stomach with your sketchbook propped open in front as you pop grapes into your mouth. There’s dark charcoal smudged along the side of your hands but you can’t find yourself caring as you finish a hooded eye with a flourish. It’s a nice day with a light breeze that helps keep you cool and soft music flows through your ears from your earphones, quiet enough so that you can be aware of your surroundings.
You’ve been at the park for so long that you’re almost done with your drawing and you’re thinking you should have brought a book to read when something kicks your foot. It makes you jump and your head twists behind you to see who or what it was. You assume it’s a child that kicked their ball too far as that happened earlier, but instead you scrunch your eyes to make sense of the figure in front of you.
Your eyes trail up to find it's a man dressed in dark jeans and a t-shirt, with a pair of oversized headphones circling his neck and sunglasses covering his eyes. The shades are dark but you can only assume he’s staring down at you. In his hands are two hot to-go cups.
“Can I help you?” You ask up to the mystery man, not hiding the annoyance in your tone.
“So she does take a day off. It’s nice to see you away from the computer screen.” The voice is familiar and you find yourself scrambling up to your feet, staring at him hard. He’s the same height as you and you notice his lips are all too familiar. They’re the same ones belonging to the drawing you just finished.
“You’re the janitor! What are you doing here?” Your annoyance quickly changes into surprise.
“Took the day off and I’m meeting a friend.” He raises one of the cups which you assume must be his friend’s. “And you can just call me Levi, by the way.” He grumbles the last bit. You only now realize you never asked for his name in any of the interactions you’ve had with him. Your face flares in embarrassment.
“I- yeah. I’m sorry, that’s so rude of me to have never asked.” You tell him your name as well but he just nods.
“I know who you are, and it’s fine.” He shrugs, tone dry as ever.
“You know my name? But how?” You don’t remember telling him your name. Nor has he ever been around to hear it be said. You raise an eyebrow at him.
“You have a plaque on your desk.”
“Oh. Yeah, that’s fair.” You run a hand through your hair as you laugh at that. You don’t notice the way his eyes flicker from your sweet face to the sketch behind you on the ground. He huffs softly at that.
“Well, I can’t keep them waiting so. I guess I’ll see you when I see you.” He murmurs before turning on his heel in the opposite direction.
“Wait, Levi!” You yell, taking a few steps towards him. His head tilts back in your direction so that you see his blue-gray eyes side-eying you from behind his sunglasses.
“What?”
“Would you like to get some tea with me sometime?” You ask quickly. Your voice wavers slightly with anxiety as you shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
“Are you sure you don’t have other people’s work to complete first?” You laugh at that.
“No. I don’t think that will be a problem.” The sides of his mouth twitches.
“Then sure. Only if you bring your mom’s cookies again.” He raises his cup at you before turning his back to you and walking down the hill.
You sit back down with a grin, staring down at your finished sketch of Levi leaning against the doorframe of the break room.
Doing things for yourself has never felt so good.
I'm adding my taglist to this bc I'm actually quite proud of this one?
-> taglist: @averysmolbear @humanitys-strongest-bamf @youre-ackermine @notgoodforlife @roseofdarknessblog @missamity @levis-squishy-cheeks @icansmellsouls @dkbktk420 @elnyrae @romantichomicide95 @sckerman @secretmoneybearvoid @apolloshaiku @sujiroses @jadam724 @kamyru @highgoon69 @missyasma @nube55 @svftackerman
The link to my taglist is in my pinned post on my blog!!
#sky's summer event#levi ackerman#levi ackerman x reader#levi x reader#x reader#attack on titan#aot#shingeki no kyojin#snk#modern au#asks#answered#cw parental trauma#janitor!levi ackerman#janitor!levi#hurt/comfort#fluff#eri.moots
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Ooof...a decade on this site eh?
Oh no, story time incoming!
10 years and yeah, so much has happened already. Originally, I made this blog back when I was in high school as a place to post my drawings; back then, it was all just pencil drawings on paper. Looking at them now...well it was obvious I still had a long way ahead of me LOL. And to think some people assume that everyone skilled enough in art must have had some innate talent for it. CLEARLY, they don't know what they're talking about because I was terrible at it early on!
But I mean, I didn't really think that of my art, did I?
No. In fact, I'm pretty sure that kid me was very much impressed with his own works. See, that child had a very bloated ego and a high opinion of himself. You should ask his poor friends; I'm sure they'd agree that the bugger could take a few lessons on humility with how he'd be sharing all of his silly sketches to them and pontificating on and on about how nice he thinks they are. Yeah, I was an insufferable kid.
But I do think that overinflated ego of mine turned out beneficial for my growth as an artist because without it—without my love for my own art—I wouldn't have stuck to it.
And stuck to it I did.
Went to college soon after that and took a program majoring in biology. Not much of a surprising choice since I've always liked the sciences and figured it would later on give way to a stable career; funnily enough, while I was very passionate about making art, I never thought it would be a profitable source of income. But that didn't mean I'd stop doing it on my free time though! Actually, this was when I got myself my first tablet! And what better way to start my digital drawing experience than to buy a FUCKING EXPENSIVE cintiq!!! With the extra motivation coming from the monetary pressure of such a purchase, you bet your ass I used the hell out of that thing. I was so intent on making use of it that—would you look at that—I still use it to this day! (Wow, they really made those old wacom tablets to last, didn't they?)
Obviously, college work ended up taking a lot of my time so I couldn't really draw as much as I did a few years ago. There were even times when I could only make one painting throughout a whole month; a far cry to my previous output. But even so, I never wavered in thinking that making art—being an artist—was something that was part of my identity; it was something that I always will come back to, no matter how much busy I got contending with course work.
And speaking of which, fuck that! Got my first honest-to-goodness mental breakdown because of all the studying I was doing at one point. See, I'm the type of student that likes getting good grades because BIG NUMBERS so I made it a point to be studious. To the point of insanity, apparently.
Anyway, I got better eventually and it all turned out nice. Even snagged all the awards I could've gotten for my thesis by the end of it! Yes, I am bragging. I deserve it, thank you very much! (For anyone curious, it was a study about plant pigments and using them in solar cells).
After that debacle, I found myself whisked into Adulthood which meant I finally had to find a job. Guess I was lucky since I didn't really have much of a hard experience searching for one. Got accepted into a cosmetics company for a lab position. Hmm, in hindsight, I think they just wanted a fresh graduate who wouldn't demand a high salary and that was me so I got in pretty easily. And honestly, the work was AWESOME. My job ended up with me coming up with formulas for new products. I got to make lotions, shampoos, soaps (ugh, I hated that one), perfumes, toners, balms, scented candles, and—oddly enough that one time—glue! It was a wonderful experience for me since it blended my interest in science and art with how it required me to think of creative ways of applying technical solutions in order to make products that needed to look, feel, smell, and perform a certain way.
As a bonus, I even got to make stuff for myself! I was particularly fond of making creams with menthol. The soothing chill on the skin is just so nice!
It wasn't all good though. I mean the menthol was fine and dandy, I assure you, but even if I was enjoying myself with the work, it just so happens that it just wasn't giving me enough money to provide for the family. Also, there was that one time I splashed chili oil on my eye. A very eye-opening and spicy turn of events to be sure.
With the bills stressing the hell out of me, I then thought to myself: if only I had a marketable skill that I could use in my off time as a way of engaging with a hobby whilst earning money.
Yup, I started my singing career!
LOL no. I opened art commissions for the first time!
It was a very scary experience, mind you. I don't consider myself a social butterfly and the prospect of talking with other people in a transactional context was a big reason why I haven't even considered doing it all this time. Turns out being poor and running out of money outweighed such concerns. Also, my keeping up with art and posting them online all these years seemed to have payed off well; my twitter having then recently crossed over a thousand followers which meant I had a decent pool of potential clients!
And so I bumbled through my first few commissions trying to appear professional and all put together in front of my clients while consistently shitting myself on the inside. Just like all well-functioning adults!
It was October last year when I started. I figured that I wouldn't have much in way of commissioners—what with being new to the business—and that was fine since I didn't have much time to put on them anyways since I did still had to go to work on my day job. What mattered was that it gave me enough of a financial buffer so that I didn't have to worry too much about going under.
This continued to the turn of the year where I was able to juggle both my job and doing commission without much of a hassle. In fact, I noticed that people were actually really interested in getting commissions from me. So much that at one point...I actually made more money in a month than what I would've with my monthly salary! At that point, it was so over! Like, I originally was planning to at least observe how things went within this year and then decide after if I would just keep it as a side gig or go full-time with art. Turns out I was much more impulsive than I expected.
It was on a bright sunny February morning (no cinematic storm clouds in sight, unfortunately) that I decided on a lark to approach my boss at work and tell them that yup, no joke, I was gonna be leaving. I handed my resignation letter a few days later.
I would've liked to say that it was a tearful goodbye with my cherished co-workers whom I've spent the last five years of my life with but...COME ON, I barely talked with those people! Instead, it was a lukewarm farewell between people who just happened to work in proximity to each other. Eh, like I said, I wasn't much of a social butterfly and no one really made an effort to get to know me so oh well. MOVING ON!
Actually, I couldn't just up and leave because there are laws around these kinds of things so I worked there for another month but all that was a blur. Soon enough, I was officially unemployed!
So like I mentioned earlier, I full on did not expect doing art as something that would bring in much in way of income. My parents too thought the same. They said that yeah, art was a good hobby but as job? Let's be serious here! Well, turns out we were wrong all this time. With me fully dedicated to commission work, I was able to take on a larger volume of clients. Not as many as some of you go for (I'm looking at you, people who take ten or more commissions per batch, you monsters!) but enough that I was actually making a stable living! And yeah, WAY more than my now previous job. What an absolute shock to everyone involved; me most of all.
Now it's almost the end of the year, my plans having all but shattered into tiny pieces. Tiny pieces that scatter with the wind as I look back on the past ten years that has led me to where I am today. A lot of time has passed. I graduated high school, college, then got a job. Then graduated from that too. Certain people have come and gone. Some more permanent than others. I've lost friends and made new ones. Tumblr got fucked. Twitter got fucked. The world stopped for two years. For some, it's still stuck in those two years. I made glue in a lab. Almost lost an eye in a lab. I bought chips with my very own money for the first time. I loved people. Hated them too. Things have happened. Things have changed.
I certainly am very different from that kid who was having troubles fitting in with others from his class, what with being bullied and suffering through a particularly angsty teenage (oh my god I was CRINGE). A kid who often sought drawing as an escape to all of those terrible things out of his control.
I guess I'm happy I can still relate to that kid.
#den thoughts#10 year tumblrversary#tumblr milestone#omg an essay#what the hell#it's 5 in the morning#I wrote this for two hours#me and my pretentious ass#ugh#I'm going to bed
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hello qsmp enjoyers, here's my goodbye to a server that saved my days for a year now
i don't know what will happen with the qsmp in the future but i just can't put myself in it anymore
i feel disrespected by the choices Quackity's Studios made, as a french person, but also as someone who's been abused as a worker. I understand that the process may be long (every administrative stuff is hell) for the studio to solve the financial and hierarchical situation, and I believe Quackity did everything to solve the issue as fast as he could (it's a belief, at no point i'm saying this is the truth of course).
however, i do not agree with him being neglectful towards his own project, towards his own admins, towards the qsmp community, i do not agree with him being radio silent towards his employees/volunteers, not thanking them once they left, not communicating anything to them about their own future, i do not agree with him either being blind to their loudly expressed needs or purposely ignoring them, i do not agree with him telling everyone "stuff takes time" but also allowing new events to happen on the server, and i'm extremely disappointed in this whole situation, because it divides more than ever a community and a project that i, among a lot of other people, cherish since a year now, when simple mesures such as COMMUNICATION were ignored.
frankly i think that most of the people would have better understood and been patient if Quackity's Studios didn't keep on announcing new events like nothing was happening
the reason i'm not talking too much about the financial issue is that : 1. I believe finding a way to pay admins that are still in the qsmp is a priority to Quackity nowadays, along with firing those who mistreated the employees/volunteers ; 2. I believe they will find a solution regarding the incomes (merch actually being a means to pay the admins is one of them)
i'm writing this during qsmp awards, i know a lot of ccs will be there. i'm a little hurt and disappointed but at the same time, i know some of them have a personal relation to Quackity that we as viewers don't have, they have their reasons to trust Quackity, i just don't agree with them, but please, no hate towards them or to people who'll watch the future events
it's a goodbye even though no one knows me lmao (i spent hours and hours watching, filling the vods of timestamps, translating youtube clips, even drawing again since a long time, i filled in the qsmp fandoms, did presentation docs and put hours into spreadsheets of the ccs statistics), but know that being a part of this community was a life experience for me, in so many ways, i'm forever thankful for the people who made this project possible, i'll miss sharing my hyperfixation with you all
🎨 also, I saved a bunch of qsmp fanarts that I didn't want to rb because I didn't want to support in any way what was happening, i didn't want to make people feel like watching the streams was ok, instead, I wanted to let the most room for any info about the admins' situation
i realize now that it wasn't fair, their art comes from a place of love, and whatever their reason was to continue watching qsmp despite all that was happening is not my business. They did art, and good art, so i'll reblog the last qsmp fanarts and probably will continue to share some from time to time
🩵 big big thanks to the artists and the ccs for creating such an amazing universe, i hope you'll keep the spirit and maybe leave with good friends, and obviously i'm so proud of all the eggies (by that I mean their admins), who have spoken up and left a project despite their obvious love for it, thanks to Lea for starting all this, freeing admins from an unbearable situation they might have not even recognized as so at the time
i don't know if i'll be back, for now i need to step back, but if i see one day that the situation got all fixed and safe and that actual apologies were made, then maybe i'll come back to this unique qsmp (it'll certainly feel changed tho)
#it took me time to write this properly but i think i expressed myself the best way i could#english is not my first language and i'm really exhausted so pardon any mistake or confusion#i won't tag it as neg since i love this community i'm just telling my goodbyes and justify me leaving#qsmp#this one year anniversary is difficult#have a nice time on the qsmp for those who stay#all my povs got away with all of this lmao (but it's ok i mean there literally work abuse so)
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howdy laika! for that ask game, spamton with 17, 22, 23, 24?
LONG POST INCOMING PLEASE READY YOURSELF
17. What's a ship for this character you don't hate but it's not your favorite that you're fine with?
See this is a tricky question bc I wouldn't say I truly LIKE any spamton ships really; they all don't work for me for one reason or another. But I'm fine with seeing some* of them regardless because I do view a majority of them as having been a part of his history? Like him and swatch for example. I do not enjoy that ship or actively take part in it but do I think there was something going on there during spamtons big shot years??? Yeah. Do I have a problem with anyone that does enjoy it? No. Kind of a non-answer but it's the best I've got
* = "Some" excluding any addison ships (bc I personally view them as siblings) and also ones that aren't morally gross, obviously
22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?
OH BOY AM I A FIC READER. For the past month or so as my hyperfixation on spam has ramped up in severity again I've been trying to read every spamton centric fic that's ever been written and wow has it been a journey. So as for what I like!! The easiest answer to this is probably just the general statement of "when people write him how he is in canon." It's surprisingly rare to see him written in such a manner but is always a nice surprise when he is. Not only do I say this in relation to his character as a whole, but his speech patterns too! Which- admittedly- are extremely difficult to get the hang of! So I understand if people aren't super well versed in it and can't write him accurately in that manner. But it's my favorite thing ever when people do.
As for the second part of this question, I think the most glaring thing I hate when it comes to fics about him is just how often he's infantilized. It's SHOCKING how often it happens. Sure sure, he can be silly no doubt about it, but he's a grown man in his 40s and has experienced so much awful shit. Can we knock it off with treating him like he's a newborn or is stupid?? In the same breadth is when people make him excessively kind or sweet right off the bat... like is he not kind of an asshole??? I think its perfectly fine to embrace that fact; him being morally gray adds SO much to his character! Dare I say a lot of people who enjoy his character wouldn't have been intrigued by him without it, so I don't know why that element of his character is so often neglected. Same with his small moments of kindness/humanity; they wouldn't hit as hard if he was like that the whole time. Idk. I'm kind of picky about writing and literature so I have a lot to say sorry lol
23. Favorite picture of this character?
If we're talking about canon art of him only then I will forever be thinking about this gif of him. It makes me crazy. Same with this drawing toby did of him, you people have no idea the damage it does to me
If fan works are included... then this piece by @fatspamton is my absolute favorite picture of spamton EVER and it has been for the longest time, no question about it. It's exactly how I see him in my head and he looks so charming in it T_T <3 All of this artists spamton art (and other art/music too!!) is absolutely worth looking at if you ask me; the way he draws spam is unbelievably perfect, I think about all of its works of him very often :"^]
24. What other character from another fandom of yours reminds you of them?
Going to be honest I've been stumped on this one. I don't think I have any answer?? There's no guy that takes up my brain space which is similar enough to him for me to say in full confidence "yeah x is like him," sorry!
#THANK YOU FOR ASKING THIS LOVE U#also to the artist whose works i included:#please let me know if youd like me to take down the actual picture and just leave the link to it up! ^_^#laika answers#should i put this under a read more. is it too long. lmk#long post#you can ask me about spamton and I do not shut up
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Also if you hate intellectual property to the point of screaming at random people over the internet for being a bit upset that their arts getting copied then why are you supporting the wga strike? They’re literally striking to profit from their intellectual property and to enforce their intellectual property rights to prevent Disney or Amazon or some other dickhead from feeding their scripts into AI.
That reminds me , you’ve reblogged anti AI art stuff in the past talking about how scraping and copying art is immoral , you want to explain that one since you just told somone to get fucked for not wanting their art copied?
I think this is answered in my previous response, but we do not live in a world where everyone has financial security. In this world, if you’re making a wage, you deserve to make a living wage. I think it’s kind of stupid that Hollywood has structured its labor agreements such that writers are paid shit wages for the actual labor they do but continue to pay them on the backend. But that’s better than nothing, and if the studios get to profit from licensing fees, then the artists who enabled their profit should get that money. Labor is entitled to all it creates, and it’s unjust that the writers, actors, directors, and other artists are getting such a minuscule cut of the pie.
I…don’t recall reblogging anti-AI art stuff in the past. If you could link to it that would be helpful. I do remember posting about how the anti-AI sentiment is fundamentally reactionary. It’s an understandable reaction because it comes from a fear for one’s livelihood. The solution isn’t stricter copyright laws or anti-AI laws, it’s universal basic income.
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Hellooo tumblrrrr >:3
sorry for the inactivity, but I'm finally on winter break now!! Sharing some of my favorite works from this semester <33
These are mixed from 2 of my studio classes (6-hour classes btw lmfao 🪦✨), Painting & Drawing. Since it's a foundational year, work is primarily traditonal. I can also answer questions ab materials/dimensions/etc if you have any!! :3
Ok incoming unedited vague and yet specific ramble about my feelings and experience 😳
Art school is everything I hoped for...idk if y'all remember cause I've had this acc since sophomore year, but I was conflicted about college even then cause of how people made the experience sound horrible and not worth it. Especially artists. I was nervous applying, I didn't think my work was even vaguely good and yet I got into my top choice school. Further, I found very quickly that this experience is in fact crucial to me personally as well as artistically. It's very challenging but in a way that makes my soul feel like I have purpose. I fucked my sleep schedule SO bad this year (😭) and my diet has gone to shit (purely my own irresposibility, don't freaking do what I did there's always better ways).
The feeling of accomplishment in work I spend full days and nights on, as well as how it feels to be in a space with the kindest and also fellow like-minded artists, is unmatched to anything I've experienced in my life. I've used materials and made progress I long ago swore off never touching because "I could never"
I wasn't happy in high school, despite what people said about how I'd miss it when college starts, how I'd hate college, how everything sucks now blah blah blah. Nope. Maybe they loved the experience, their friend groups, the feeling of not being the only person going down their career path (my school was small, I am the only person who graduated going to art school. It was hell during the application process, being told left and right I'm doing it wrong and I shouldn't bank on being an artist anyway. I learned that year the value of ignoring people fr).
OH NOT HAVING TO TAKE MATH, SCIENCE, ETC......IVE BEEN WAITING SO LONG AGHHHH 😭✨✨ The feeling of anxiety and worthlessness over not understanding or doing well in those subject areas while also knowing it's not important in the bigger picture but still feeling horrible over them....being gone....knowing I can put my whole mind and heart into creating now...sobbbbbb it's amazing
Right now, I'm feeling good about everything, even with the many ups and downs during the semester--ultimately, I'm where I wanna be now, and I'm kinda hype for the next semester 🥰 idk if my opinion counts or if this will reach any people who are in my previous situations, if this is encouraging at all but maybe perhaps it will?? And if it does then I'm glad 🫡
In conclusion, uh. I'm being my usual overdramatic and wordy self, but first semester was slay and I'm so deeply grateful I'm an artist and that I am in my current situation. ART SCHOOL FUN RAAAAA
#kuni talks#art#original art#art school#illustration major#art student#artist#illustration#paintings#drawings#acrylic paint#colored pencils#charcoal#inking pens#<3#life things
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