when luumia's body hair is too hairy for my sims...

I adore top only dresses and pantless heels! Endless mixing and matching to suit different styles :) A while ago I came across these heels originally by Semller converted by @alwayssims2, that I thought were super cute. I wanted different shoe colors, and the shoe has such an autumn/winter vibe that I felt stockings would be perfect. Always Sims fortunately had set it up so that it was super easy to add stockings, you rock Always Sims!

I don't consider myself a good recolorist, but occasionally I make something that I think is worth sharing, and these shoes came out nice I think :) Shoe recolors by me, stockings are a combination of existing recolors by others, see credits below :)

There are 8 shoe colors and 4 leg options. Bare legs set as everyday, stocking options everyday and outerwear. Shoe sound is heavy boot. Not townified. Mesh is included, 3003 poly. Filename added as tooltip. Swatches for easy picking included :)

Download from simfileshare | Download from dropbox

Credits: Always Sims and semller for the mesh, @taylors-simblr (hi tops) for the blue stockings, Kurimas (Louboutins) for the black nylons and stocking alpha map, unknown creator of an old maternity outfit for the grey stockings, @deedee-sims and @kurimas for dresses on models, picknmix for outfit organizer used to edit files

Model top dresses: Model 1, Model 2, Model 3, Model 4

Hey its the anon that asked about deleting a swatch, thanks so much for the really detailed tutorial - its super easy to do! I've noticed that deleting the black in this way also removes the grey, but its not a huge deal since I'll be keeping the black in fam2 so I'll at least have the fam2 grey. | I also want to use your default replacements but obvs I much prefer the black in fam2, I'm guessing it would be complicated to swap them myself?

Hi! Sorry for late reply.

Switching pre-existing textures is not very complicated, actually. Poppet has a tutorial how to retexture hair with .dds method here. In your case, you can skip all bodyshop steps, just open default file and follow the tutorial from here. The tricky part is editing color. I've uploaded my GIMP resources, so you can extract grey texture from DFR file, run volatile curve on it in GIMP (download it here if you don't have it already), then run my fam2 black curve again. Then import it in SimPE.

I hope it doesn't sound too convoluted.

Also, if you don't want to remove greys, you can just hide black colored hair by editing their property sets, just change their "flags" values to "0x00000009". It will hide them in CAS.

Headcanons #3 [Quirk- Panda! Edition]

so, this was requested by a v cute anon and oml i just-- i wanna draw this panda girl :)) also it was specifically requested fem so that is what i shall be doing. so, quirk- panda, what is it? 

You have big fuzzy panda ears which give you remarkable hearing, and you’re an exceptional climber. You can climb any surface, no matter how steep, and overall you’re just a cutie. And in the last one you have a few black circles going under your eyes. No homo tho. ;)

Bakugo:

Well, Bakugo doesn’t associate with ‘cute’

I mean, it’s just not very intimidating or something a guy like him would look at and go

“i need that”

But oh boy when he met you that changed

Look, you have panda ears

He had a sudden urge to just

cuddle

the

panda

Do Not Ask WhyTM

He doesn’t know himself

But he’ll be damned if he’s giving into those urges

Until, of course...

It was lunchtime, you were sat at a table (next to Bakugo of course) and eating your food. There were a few others at the table, but Bakugo was mostly focused on you.

Once again he was wondering what they felt like- your ears, that is. Were they soft? Were they fluffy? Or were they smooth? Did they feel like velvet? Or silk? He had to know. But he just couldn’t bring himself to ask.

That was until Kirishima asked you about it. It was a throwaway comment, something like- “Hey, [Name], what’s it like having different ears?”

And boom. Suddenly everyone wanted to touch them. You didn’t mind much, it was mostly the girls who just wanted to know what they felt like. Mina often compared them to her horns, so it was fine.

That was until a certain ash-blond reached over and gently tweaked one of them. You went slightly pink and smiled. “Wow, Katsuki, didn’t take you to be that kinda guy.” 

At that he realised what he was doing, and hastily yanked his hand away. “I- Shut it, Fuzzy! That’s- you-!” He spluttered, much to your amusement. 

You simply reached over and placed his hand back on your ears. “You’re way too obvious, all ya had to do was ask.” He grumbled quietly, but never actually said he didn’t want to, so... ;)

Mina:

Oh lord

You’ll never get away from her hands

That’s not a bad thing either

She’s just smitten with the idea of her crush having these cute round ears

Also

Horns, ears, same thing!

She loves the similarities between the two of you

And she’s not afraid to show it, either

Like everyday after school, you were hanging around Mina’s house. Her mum always bought ready-made bamboo shoots for you (yes, they’re a real thing) so that was a bonus.

The only sound that could be heard was crunching, as well as the occasional sound from the game Mina was playing. Your head was resting on her shoulder as you watched the little character run around whacking Boon with their bug net.

You flushed a crimson feeling her hand run through your hair and then over the back of your ears. It wasn’t the first time, but it sometimes caught you off guard.

“Whassamatter, hon?” She giggled, making you grin. “You need to warn me when you do that, y’know?” “Yep, just teasing. You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

Tsuyu:

Not exactly the kind of person you’d expect to gain a crush, but here she is

This lil froggy is just so happy that she found another person with an animal quirk to be honest

You’re no exception, you want to know just how similar you two are

She genuinely cares for you and wants to take her time, too

After all, loosing you isn’t an option

Her favourite thing to do is hold your hand, because then she see you and keep you close

It can be hard to know what she’s thinking

But you’re one of the few people who can figure it out

Rain. You didn’t really like it. Pandas aren’t exactly known for their love of water, so it made sense. However your cute froggy friend did.

“[Name], I thought you’d gone home kero.” Speaking of which, she’d just spotted you standing at the edge of Heights Alliance, waiting and watching.

“Hey, I’m just waiting for this god damned rain to end. I didn’t bring an umbrella, see.” She nodded thoughtfully, and then produced something from her bag.

A dark green umbrella. Oh. 

“Here, want to share mine, kero?” “Aw, Tsu, you’re too kind.” You grinned, stepping closer. The height difference was something you loved to joke about, and Tsuyu secretly liked the fact that you were taller.

She held the umbrella in her left hand, and took yours in her right. You gave a small squeeze of reassurance. “What would I do without you, hm?”

Denki:

Crushes were normal for Denki

He’d liked practically every girl (and maybe even guy) he’d seen

He at least flirted with them

But with you it was different

It was like he used up all of his electricity and was in constant idiot mode around you

He can’t help it!

Poor bean, he just wants to impress you

But he usually just ends up dropping whatever he’s holding or tripping over his shoelaces

You found it pretty cute, not gonna lie

To you, he was like a ray of sunshine

Always smiling and goofing off

And that clumsiness? 

*smack sound*

N i c e

He just wants to spend all his time with you, not even in a romantic way sometimes

He loves your energy and personality more than anything

So!! Cute!! And!! Nice!!

“Hey, [Name], watch this!” You leant across the back of your chair, watching the blonde balance a pen on his nose. 

“You look like an idiot.” His eyes widened slightly and he tipped his head a little too far back, resulting in him being jabbed in the eye. His face erupted in red as he blinked the ache away.

“Aha, oops?” You simply shook your head, with a small eye-roll. “Yep, definitely an idiot.” You stated, getting up and sitting besides him.

“Your my idiot though.” You giggled, giving a chaste kiss to his cheek, causing his blush to worsen (in a good way.)

“Wheyy...”

Jiro:

A crush you say?

Nope

Nuh-uh

“i’vE ALREADY SAID IT’S NOT A CRUSH I JUST ADMIRE HER JACKASS!”

Jiro isn’t usually so worked up about things, but...

Bby just wants to deny her feelings

There’s no way you’d like her back

You’re so pretty and funny

And smart, kind, friendly, open, comforting...

Jiro could go on for hours about how great you were

In a completely non-romantic way of course!!

“Face the facts girl. You’ve got it baaad.”

With a sigh she might just have to accept her own feelings

“Does she like me back, though?”

“Who?” Jiro flinched in her seat, and Kirishima snickered. “Oh, looks like I’ve gotta shoot off. See you Jiro, take care of her for me [Name]!” Oh Kiri, you evil wing-man.

“So what were you two talking about?” You inquired, despite the fact that you already knew. Eavesdropping is easy with two big fluffy ears. 

“Er- nothing too important, just stuff.” She said nonchalantly. You almost believed her, were it not for the fact that you literally heard her confess for you mere moments ago.

“Alrighty then. Hey, you wanna know something?” You beckoned for her to lean closer, and when she did, you whispered in her ear.

“The best part of having a panda quirk is that I can hear things even when I’m not there. That being said, you free on Saturday?”

You’d never seen her show so much emotion, yet here Jiro was, cheeks dusted pink and a small smile on her lips.

Todoroki:

This lad is starved of love

All kinds

So naturally he has no idea what to do when he realises he might be falling for you

His father would definitely not approve, but if anything that made it all the more better

You were a good listener

With ears like those, it was kind of a given to be frank

And there was another thing, too

You also had markings on your face

Maybe the way you got them was different, but they were there

Little black circles under your eyes, decreasing in size as they went inwards

You weren’t a massive fan, usually you covered them with makeup but he loved them

And you weren’t going to lie, having someone like him around was nice

Perhaps a teeny bit of chemistry??

Just a smidge :)

You didn’t think he could be so sweet also, but you couldn’t be more wrong

Knock!

It was one of those days. Listening to music, and applying the perfect amount of concealer to hide those markings. It wasn’t that you hated the way you looked all the time, it was just... them. 

They didn’t suit you, in your opinion, and you felt rather self conscious of them. You cursed, seeing that there was no concealer left. All you’d done was swatch it on your arm!

“Fuck...” You mumbled to yourself, flopping backwards on the bed. Ah well, you’d ask to borrow some from Momo tomorrow maybe. At least here in your dorm no-one could see you and your face right now.

Knock!

‘Well smack me sideways, whyyy?’ You groaned, but got up and padded to the door anyway. 

What a pleasant surprise. “Eyo, Shouto, what’s up pal?” You let him into your room, flopping down on your bed and patting the space next to you so he could sit.

Befriending the icy guy was difficult but rewarding, as he was a true friend. Maybe even more, with that look...

“I’m bored. I wanted to see you.” Alright, forward much? You grinned, batting your seal plush out of the way and leaning a little on your pillow(s). “That’s great, but you caught me at a horrible time.”

“Oh really?” “Mm, ran out of concealer.” He gave you a quizzical look. “Which product is that?” You stifled a laugh. “The one I use to cover these,”

You pointed to your markings, and he sighed. “Do you have to? They’re part of you, are you really going to pretend they don’t exist forever?” 

“Yep, my hero suit is designed like that for a reason. But you know all that.” He hummed. “Yeah, I do. But it doesn’t stop me from questioning your choices. I think you should leave them.”

Ah, that was Todoroki. Blunt as a butter knife. You rolled your eyes, covering your markings with your hands unconsciously. “They’re ugly and I hate them. I was reading into surgery you can get, like tattoo removal for people who dislike the way their quirks make them look. I might get--”

You couldn’t finish you sentence as he had shushed you with one hand. 

“[Name] for goodness sake, they look amazing. Do not get surgery, they are part of you and every last inch of you is perfect to me. Please quit covering them up, I love them- and you.”

☆

so, what did you think? i’m kinda tired today so some of them might be kinda ooc, but hey thats what headcanons are for. hope you enjoyed anon, i’m pleased with these.

also i finally settled on a headcanons format. i’ve been experimenting with the last few and i think this is gucci

also also sorry i didn’t do oneshots this week, i’m kinda abandoning my schedule cos school and my wattpad account. can’t manage all three lmao. welp bye no homo love ya

☆

CONFIDENCE

pairing: Avengers X Confident!Reader

summary: Confident?Reader leaves the Avengers shocked, even if you weren’t new to the team.

word count: 2.5k+

warning: sexual tensions

note: thank you so much for 300 followers! i wonder why people even bother to read crappy stories written by me. I needed to post something :( i was too lazy to re-edit this once again :D i dont know what this is but have a nice day!!

The faint buzzing of the refrigerator echoed through the pin-drop silence of a room, the commencement of hissing caused the soldier to jump at the abrupt interruption of his elongated train of thoughts. The air lingered peacefulness and with one glance out of the window, the view being the bar-like buildings was breathtaking. Especially at night. Steve glanced at the meandering rivers that shallowed itself onto the marble counter, the frigid slab holding a newly bought coffee maker. The inanimate object hums, it clicks like a thin melody of a stick tapping onto a music stand, one two three, before it extracted the liquid it was made to do. Clashing of the beverage with the cup rung through the air, the fresh aroma of coffee wafted through noses as it angrily huffed, filling the cup.

The paper that would smudge its ink on you with one swipe crinkled under the soldier’s furrowed eyebrows that he sent towards the machine. He didn’t make it. But his attention was like a fly’s, his eyes darted back to the words of different sizes. To be a superhero doesn’t mean to save lives only, it would be politically better to comprehend what was going on around you. Muffled footsteps onto the tiled floors slapped with echoes through the hallways.

“Sam?” He already knew who it was. With his familiarization of everybody’s way of steps, the way one would lay their foot on the ground creates distinct sounds, and super hearing- he could make out anyone with little to no doubt. His expected teammate appeared from the shadowed hallway; it was 7 a.m. in the morning and the only light shining onto the path was the light from the window on one side of the narrow hallway. It glimmered the dust particles that danced before settling on the ground. Stretches of faint layers of light ran from one side of the hallway to the other formed a dim smeared swatch of a rainbow.

The male hummed, groaning when light beamed onto his eyes even though he had closed it tightly- not wanting a single ray to infiltrate. His hands moved in a frenzy; his gestures caused Steve’s jaw to fall in confusion, it was as if a conductor was teaching a class very frantically. Although his eyes were shut tight, to what Steve had concluded, Sam did not want to open his eyes for he tried his best to meet the tabletop. Finally, he made contact with the counter, a groan fell off Sam’s lips when he accidentally slapped the hard surface. A slight wince diminished in the 100-year-old man’s head at the toes curling noise.

Giving up to the forces of the good (in his case the other team), he had finally adjusted to the lighting that blinded him nonetheless- Sam sat on the high chair with his steaming cup of coffee in his hand; swirly vapour evaporated from the beverage. Steve had finished absorbing information from the newspaper, nothing new. He crossed his arms, pushing his back to rest onto the couch. He admired the view that laid open in front of him. Too focused onto the small figures of people carrying on with their daily lives, his breath hitched and he nearly jumped off the couch when an arm wrapped around his neck.

“Good morning.” The waft of a familiar breath glossed his cheeks. As if embedded into the walls of his mind, the intoxicating scent of the perfume prodded him. Eyes darted to the corner, to meet the person who has been disturbing thoughts lately, which used to be organized and collective with filters. Heart screamed, he quickly turned his gaze in an attempt to avoid the attraction that strung between both of them.

Slightly pitchy, he mumbled, “Good morning.” The rosy warmth grew on his cheeks, it raised to settle below his eyes. He tried his best to focus on the paper that rested on his lap, he really did- trying his hardest to write the bolded letters in his head to be distracted. It didn’t work. The soft breathing glazed his ears, his hairs erected to salute the wind. Y/N smiled at his mild response. Slight disappointment diminished in him when the weight on his shoulders had eradicated. A smirk played on her lips when his head snapped back to whip around- searching for her.

His cheeks grew redder like lava. It beamed heat and his widened eyes stared into hers’ calm ones. A mute gasp fell off his lips when she had tugged the paper into her grip, throwing herself onto his lip as a seat. As if the other surrounding seats were non-existent. She hummed in satisfaction, finding a comfortable position on him, opening the paper wide for him to see the text he had re-read again and again, moments snipped as she had intruded his mind, “Could you please read it for me?”

The blaring sirens in his head sent one message: to calm down his heartbeat, she could’ve definitely heard it, not missing a pace- for her head rested on the nape of his neck, strands of hair prickling his skin; her breath grazed him. Just like a summer’s day, the wind breathing onto the grass. As soon as his mouth gaped open and a letter had slipped off the edge of his lips, the mini earthquake sent onto the glass table vibrated into their ears.

Relief filled the soldier while she let out a loud sigh, hoping he was not oblivious to such sounds. Before he had the chance to turn around, to pick the cause of the interruption, was it a saviour if he craved her more? His breath hitched. Y/N’s legs rested around his waist, straddling him with slight tightness. All the tension that ran through his muscles froze, it stopped. She groaned, pushing her body forward, fingers grazing over the table; the short distance between her fingers and the phone frustrated her. Steve didn’t know how to react. As if he was still in the ice. He wasn’t bothered, not knowing himself that he had rested his gaze on her chest, that had been pushed hairbreadth away from his face. A gulp descended down his throat.

The skimpy tanktop she wore dragged down, displaying her indigo bra- Steve whipped his head, hoping she did not accuse him of suspiciousness, “Hello?” Almost like an irritated sigh, she inquired the person on the end of the line.

Whenever he would in be in her presence, or ball of aura- he noticed he’d always space out. Possibly why he didn’t bother pushing her away, his headspace was in the middle of nowhere. He was lost. Y/N let out a loud laugh, cackling as the joke echoed through her ears. Fiddling with locks of his soft hair, she played with it as the conversation seemed to continue.

Another protocol broken, a siren blared in his head as she had jumped from excitement and laughter. He let out a groan at the abrupt pressure on his shaft, “Shh!” If she wasn’t right in front of him, he would’ve rolled his eyes. Y/N knew what she was doing, but she liked pushing all the buttons on the elevator.

A part of the 100-year-old man hoped, crying out loud as it pleaded for the moment to linger longer. He knew there was no point of holding on to the hope. She stood up and her figure faded away into the shade of the walls. All alone, once again. Massaging his temples, he let out a sigh laced followed by a frustrated groan.

Y/N would be the death of him.

Pants rang through the crevice of the training room, slamming of fists onto the punching bag echoed, bouncing off the tall walls. The red-haired assassin let out a huff, throwing another punch towards the victim. Her eyes narrowed and concentrated at the targets she aimed onto the object, veins that ran through her fingers pumped blood heavily. 

“Woah, easy there.” Not bothered to even take a short glance at the person who had intruded her focus, just by the soft-toned voice- she could make out who it was for it had engraved the walls of her well-built walls. However, she did not let the figure falter her training, even though it took everything in her not to turn around and stare into her eyes.

A few more punches towards the sand-filled bag, she finally pulled away, slight joy sparked accompanied by relief, as the words in her head formed the sentence that fell off her lips, “Hydra won’t go easy on us.” Y/N hummed, nodding her head as she agreed at her true statements. Strapping off the velcro straps, Natasha bent down- under the strings of the boxing ring, making a quick eye-contact that sparked electricity. The sight of Y/N in a tank top, the prominent blue bra making an appearance left her breathless despite working out, leaning against the doorframe- drained all of the energy in the assassin.

She was a magnet. Not a second would she deny the fact. Y/N’s lips faltered to an ‘o’ shape as the abrupt realization railed over her head, “Right,” Pacing towards Natasha, who stood in front of the sink, contracting and relaxing her fingers at the constricted space in the glove caused a numb feeling that lingered in the muscles. She rested her elbow on the frozen-tiled counter, batting her eyes towards the assassin. “I came to tell you that,” Y/N bit her bottom lips, almost contemplating if she should say it, already looking at the endless of possibilities, taking a whole list of page. Pushing her lips to hover over her ears, a tingle cascaded down Natasha’s spine. “I think they switched our laundry, your bras are... kinda in my drawer.” 

With widened eyes, the assassin whipped her head. Firstly, the confusion had diminished to welcome the redness rise- curtaining her pale cheeks just like the colour of her hair, “Huh?” Somehow, not surprised, she has managed to steal her breath away.

“At least it’s in my room...,” Y/N placed her hands on the counter, leaning her body on Natasha’s back, her head resting on her padded shoulder. “Wouldn’t know how I would react if it was in someone else’s room,” Shivers prickled down the red-haired, hair saluting the air; lips gaped open as damp warmth settled in her panties. “Do you... want me to bring it to your room? Or are you coming to mine?” The tone of her voice was sultry, delicate, causing inappropriate thoughts to be projected in Natasha’s mind- not even a shake of her head, would the ideas jump out.

Running down her hand from her waist, Y/N bit her bottom lips as she left her eyes to watch her performance, which she hoped wouldn’t last quickly, “I think I’ll come to your room.” With a satisfied smirk, she walked away, leaving Natasha’s eyebrows to crash against each other like a pair of waves. Oh, she was playing her like the strings of a guitar.

Letting out a loud huff, the billionaire’s eyebrows creased to curl upwards. The ball of aura that sprinkled around him sparked static electricity, a way of warning people he was busy. Even though they knew that was when he was serious, there were some, very few, who ignored such signs like transparent glass. Fiddling with the floating holograms, his hands pushed the thin air. Faint vibration echoed through the floors as it rolled through the trash can.

Tony pushed himself back, arms crossed as he scanned the vast table- that seemed to be messy. Although he has worked on this for hours, he couldn’t find the logistics and method correct. If one dared to comment on the project, he would’ve smacked someone. But he IS Tony Stark. A groan echoed.

His heart jumped out of his chest, thumping outside of his body as a pair of arms wrapped around him, “What’cha doing?” Out of all the team members of the Avengers- Tony seemed to be the only one who had accepted or looked comfortable with skin contact. As if he was left untouched and unbothered, not a muscle contracted at the abrupt addition of voice to the thin air.  

“Just trying to configure these sequences, they don’t match up. It wouldn’t make any sense whatsoever to even use this piece of trash,” He hissed, grabbing the hologram before flinging it towards the trash can. “I need this to compliment one another.”

Grabbing the thin air, he shook his two hands, shooting beams at the two objects, “Well... maybe you should relax a bit,” Already stressed with the frustrating project, his body had exuded scorching heat, generated by the irritation. How did it manage to increase in temperature, he did not find the answer. Her hands ran the side of his body, accidentally allowing her fingers to brush over his twitching shaft.

His breath hitched.

“Don’t you start something you cannot finish.” Almost a growl, it rumbled off his lips, his fingers wrapped around her wrist. Even though knowing how he would respond, she tugged her hand. With little to no effort, Tony’s body twirled around. Stopping his escape, she placed her hands to trap him in.

“Oh, but I know I can finish it.” With a quirk of the corner of her lips, she leaned in closer towards his chest before slamming her fingers onto the glass table. A loud hissing rung from the device as it followed the instructions it has been encrypted to do. The door to the lab now sealed tight. Natasha would just have to wait.

Soft squeaking by the shoes filled the empty air, she bit her bottom lip in contemplation. Was she really doing this? The heavy basket in her arms weighed down, glancing at the pile of belongings that was not hers. The redness crept up to her cheeks as she played the memory of opening her drawer to find skimpy choices of clothing and... intimacy. She was entering a lion’s den, allowing herself to enter an obvious trap. Clearing her throat, her hands hovered over the door, mouth gaped open- ready to ask for permission to enter. However, it creaked to an open. Natasha’s eyebrows clashed in confusion, Y/N never let her door wide open.

The tightening anticipation curled her heart, balancing her life on a frail line to save the world is one thing, but entering Y/N’s room is another. Maybe worse. Her plan that she had rapidly formed over the span of hours was simple. Get in, take her stuff and leave. Even though she had already scanned the room that resembled like those of the building, she dared not to step in for she knew what she would get herself into. 

Resting her hands on the doorframe, her head peaked, bopping up and down. Toes strained, aching as a familiar shock pass through it so she could get some height to overlook the bed that covered what was behind it. Finally, her eyes landed on a basket, filled with her items she had come to retrieve. As if she was making a loud commotion, the bathroom door yelped as it was pushed open.

Out came Y/N with a sheer silk robe draped over her skin that had been displayed with no doubt. A smirk played on her lips, “Why don’t we play first?”

EDIT: I should note Rock's hair IS BLACK, the tone I use on these flat color references is just the midtone I start with for my own personal shading, which is why I didn't include it as a pallet swatch. If you're ever drawing any version of him, just do it however you like doing black hair! Spooky season will be upon us soon and that means I'll be drawing way too much of this sharp toothed bastard between commissions and trades, so I FINALLY MADE HIM A SKETCHY REF. He is yet another AU of my main boy Rockwell of course. We started calling him Puppy way back when as a kind of tongue and cheek cutesy nickname for something not so cute, but it stuck (plus Hundchen a different AU, has pretty much the same meaning so it makes for easy nickname conventions when trying to separate so many versions of the same character). This ref includes some visual details that apply to main canon Rockwell, such as the seam lines mapped out (and their glow), as well as the artificial patterning in the eyes, just with pallet adjustments. It also includes some details I've been thinking of adding for some time but haven't bothered with on any recent-ish sketches of Puppy, like his jointed wings, so now they're all ironed out! Really I should do main Rock's ref soon since this is practically the closest thing he has to one-- maybe after October? If you're curious about Puppy's history and character, I'll try to summarize as best as I can below because it's a little complicated, but there are also some things I'd rather reveal via comics or writing down the road. 

Basically his life /was/ similar to Rock's main incarnation up to a point. If you're familiar with Dirge (Dirge's Reference ), you know that our characters interact pretty regularly with the "multiverse" and different versions of themselves and other characters sometimes. Puppy is basically a case of where that went very, very badly. Not gonna write out the gruesome details here, but this basically started as a "bad end" AU that later got expanded upon as our canon became a multiverse instead of several one shot stories. "Infinity", who is mentioned on the reference, is responsible, but since we haven't drawn him up yet, all you really need to know is meeting him anywhere in the multiverse spells disaster for most characters, and instant death if they're lucky.   Since Rock's a machine, it's not impossible for data to be corrupted, or for his frame to be heavily altered. Rock's original personality and memories were essentially buried (in some places are completely blank) via extensive trauma and modification. What was left basically exists to cause as much damage as possible to everything in his path (including himself), as you've seen from past goretober pieces. He's got something of an obsession with Infinity, as well as individuals Infinity has a habit of targeting in the multiverse. He's extremely sadistic and excessively violent, so best to avoid if at all possible. Puppy is capable of consuming most materials with his new chompers, and other machines can aid his self repair routines to a degree when eaten (although his auto-repair is artificially slowed down). He can also consume organic matter (and yes, people), but anything living that isn't plant based tends to cause severe damage to his insides. Since he has a tendency for self destruction and sometimes even auto-cannibalism it's really a moot point but y'know. Which brings us to the multiple personalities presented in the ref itself. As with all things, there's more than one instance of Puppy in the multiverse, and in a few cases where he doesn't just die at some point via combat or self inflicted damage, he's actually getting some help recovering. What's presented in the ref are basically the three main versions worth talking about, one of which that serves as an in-between for the two extremes. If you have questions ask away, but that's what I can say without ??? spoiling too much stuff.

‘a sea that’s painted black’ - by @wildenessat221b and @whiteroserebelsinscarves

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20275678/chapters/48062845

Chapter 1:

Sometime in the future, Crowley would look back on those days, (remembered by history as Arthurian, because King Herbert held some insecurities and his scribe really wasn't fond of him when he was feeling insecure) with some affection.

It was a time of clean air and luscious forests, the expanse of Britain existing still as a swatch of greens interrupted only by Jackson Pollock splotches of grey brick and veins of dirt-road. Wildlife chattered away largely uninterrupted and the people did the same, and if they happened to stumble into conversation with a (not-quite) person with a somewhat animalistic speech impediment and eyes that were off in a way that they couldn't quite put their finger on... Well, it takes all sorts doesn't it. Yes, in Arthurian times people were a little more accepting of difference. The witch hunts lurked in the future - wearing faces that were suspiciously like poor casts of Sandalphon - exorcisms were performed with the both the skill and frequency of stand-up comedy ("So what about cattle these days, eh? Oh, you... You want me to put the hat on instead... The one with the bells... Don't you want to hear about the... Yes Sire, of course I'll flatulate too... Not a problem in the world.") and everybody was so caught up in their own - completely necessary for survival in a world without law enforcement or flushing toilets - low-level depravity that there was a general unspoken consensus to leave individuals to their own devices. Day-to-day, that is. It was Crowley's job, of course, to prod these coals of low-level depravity until they grew into flames of disobedience and sin. However as had become something of a recurring theme during his four-thousand-five-hundred or so years on Earth, he didn't have to do a whole lot of prodding in reality, and when he did, he did so with a very long, very bendy stick that could reach around corners and wore thick, heavy gloves the whole time. It was a damp old world after all, and he much preferred to stay indoors by the fireplace, perhaps with a glass of something that could fell a war-horse, than to do any of the street-corner lurking that he knew his superiors had a fondness for. So yes, all in all, Crowley would end up looking back on Arthurian times with a fondness for its relative simplicity. The kind of fondness that you feel when you're standing on top of a mountain in the Peak District and find yourself wishing that the world was still comparatively untouched and simple, then immediately forget about when you dive into your electric shower with five pressure settings and lather yourself in limited-edition toffee-apple shower gel. If you had told Crowley this at the time our tale begins, he would have laughed in your face, then possibly bitterly made the blackberries you'd plucked on the way home turn to mush in your wicker basket. Dragons were infinitely better than horses, or at least treated Crowley better. It may have been something to with some sort of reptilian solidarity - maybe they could smell the snake in him. Or maybe it was just a natural affinity, like dog people and cat people. But either way, they threw him off far less frequently, were less inclined to spit and didn't have the tendency to kick out like a reclining sofa (which Crowley was already drawing out the blueprints for) at the first sign of trouble. Unfortunately, Crowley and the dragon, whose name was Brian, were on approximately their twenty-seventh sign of trouble. The rain, usually an unenthusiastic drizzle, had apparently gotten incredibly, uncharacteristically excited about something and was pelting down like a hormonal teenage boy might pelt stones at a pretty girl's window. It had invited thunder along, to add some ambiance to the occasion, and lightening to really liven things up. Between the watery refreshments, rumbling drum beat of the ground and electric flashing in the sky, there was a proper party atmosphere. The occasion? "Crowley and Brian's First Crash!" Crowley was trying very, very hard not to imagine himself crashing, - things that he imagined had a worrying habit of becoming real - but kept finding himself enjoying the irony of the situation and having to divert his mind back as Brian began to dip. After some time, he realised that the best course of action was to unplug his imagination altogether and actually drive. He took the reins between his rain-slicked pruny fingers and took a deep breath, before yanking Brian into taking a hard right. The world tipped beneath him, painting him into the background of an ill-hung portrait. Rainwater gathered in his ear. Brian let out a frightened cry and Crowley bit his tongue against a reassurance. Bit of adrenaline, good for the soul, right? That's what he was telling himself at that moment anyway, in spite of the fact that he wasn't entirely sure if he himself had a soul in the conventional sense and if he did it wasn't feeling all that good. A bolt of lightning struck down directly in front of them and Brian reared back, gnashing his teeth and beating his wings incessantly. Crowley could almost feel the anxious fire burning up in the animal's belly beneath him. The reprieves between the flashes were getting smaller, but their destination was in sight. Just one, perfectly angled, perfectly timed swoop should do it. Crowley shut his eyes and tugged. The force of the rain on his face was akin to that of diving into a lake. His long hair trailed behind him, a sodden excuse for a weak carbon flame. Every muscle in his body was tensed, his ears a vessel for whooshing white noise. And then finally, blissfully, bumpily, jarringly, the impact of the ground. Brian let out a final fearful squawk before beginning his trot along the sodden courtyard towards his enclosure. Crowley expelled a long breath and collapsed bonelessly onto the creature's neck, bobbing along and feeling like a little boat on a fretful sea. In a few hours he'd come with armfuls of treats and hushed kind words on his tongue for the animal, he'd thank him for his service and soothe his nerves with gentle touches. He was a good companion, really. Before that though, he needed to find Aziraphale for a good old moan. ***

It hadn't taken long for Aziraphale to establish himself in the kingdom. He had arrived obviously rich, obviously intelligent and while he didn't exactly present himself as the textbook warrior, most agreed that he had a certain intangible edge to him that nine times out of ten, prevented people from getting on the wrong side of him. These three factors packed themselves into a neat parcel of nobility, which is exactly what he became. A life in the higher echelons of society was one which certainly suited him. If his heavenly superiors were to ask him why, he'd answer that it was easier to reach out and spread goodness when one has the means to - a fleet of horses at one's beck and call, for example, removes the need for unnecessary transportation miracles. Charity from a recognised and respectable face is more likely to be well-received than charity from a stranger. If, however, he was being honest with himself, he'd admit that it had its perks beyond these practical ones. He remembered the days of wandering the desert, living barefoot from one cave to another, with little nostalgic fondness, much preferring to return at the end of the day to a cosy room with a well-stocked fire and a collection of satin slippers. The food was rich and the alcohol like a punch in the face in just the right way. And although he'd never wish to incite fear in anyone, he took some slightly guilty pleasure in the fact that he was just high enough in society that unless they needed him for something, people tended to keep a respectful distance. There was, however, one notable disadvantage to being noble, but not quite noble enough to have your own army; it left you rather vulnerable to attack. He had found this out one October evening, when he'd ventured out for an evening stroll following a large meal and poor musical act. He was dressed head to toe in heavy, flowing, movement-restricting garments with no means of housing a weapon, and looked every bit the sitting-duck type easy target. His attacker was a Goliath of a man, with tree-trunk arms and large, meaty hands. He stood at six feet tall, and performed all of his ambushes from the woodlands, as his stature ensured that he blended in with the trees far more successfully than he had any hope of doing among human crowds. He wasn't mean spirited, not really - instead, he was unquestioningly religious and of the mind that God couldn't possibly have gifted him with such transparent assets for any other purpose than Guerrilla warfare. If Aziraphale had a moment to sit down with the man and listen to this philosophy, he may have directed him towards the next village, which was advertising for a farm-hand to snap logs for firewood. Unfortunately, his attention was rather focused on not being discorporated by his enormous hands, which had found themselves inexplicably quickly wrapped around his throat. "C'mon, sunshine, don't make this any 'arder than it 'as to be." Aziraphale shook his head the few millimetres that the man's grip would allow, and frantically patted his sides in an attempt to convey the fact that he was carrying no money. The man didn't seem to get the message, and frowned a dangerous frown. He stared into Aziraphale's eyes as he made his grip tighter... Tighter... Tighter... And then released. Aziraphale fell to the floor, gasping in breaths that his corporeal form didn't actually need, as the man released a frenzied cry from the back of his throat. Aziraphale watched through his saturated tunnel vision as his legs kicked out a few times in quick succession, before his whole body was on the move, back into the dense forest. He blinked confusedly, once, twice, three times. And on the third, there were two yellow eyes staring back at him, from inside a scaly black head. "Crowley?" "Nope. Cat'sss mother," the snake hissed sarcastically, before acquiring limbs, a distinct torso and a fair few other complicated features. His hair was longer than it had been since Golgotha, hanging down his back from a ponytail secured at the nape of his neck. He smirked. "Oh no, my mistake. Is me." "What are you doing here?" Aziraphale asked, levering himself off the ground and brushing dust off his robes. It'd always surprise him, it seemed, no matter how many times it happened, that Crowley always seemed to turn up at the right place and right time. He silenced any whispers in his mind along the lines of 'fate.' "Saving your arse, it seems. Although I was under the impression that I was actually just passing through on my way to wreak havoc," he gestured vaguely towards the kingdom, "Down there." "Oh!" Aziraphale said brightly, before immediately wishing that dimmer switches would hurry up and get themselves invented. "Oh," he repeated more soberly. "Oh?" "That's where I'm currently ah... Stationed." "Stationed?" Crowley drawled amusedly. "That's what you're calling basking in the lap of luxury is it?" he asked teasingly, reaching out to flick the expensive fabric that hung from Aziraphale's arm. He batted the hand away petulantly. "I'll have you know that my current... Standing is for purely pragmatic reasons only. If I were living in squalor it would be far more difficult-" "Oh stop it, I don't give a rat's arse about your hedonism, in fact I actively encourage it." Aziraphale huffed. "It's not hedonism its-" "Pragmatism, alright, alright." Crowley held up his hands in surrender, then peered into the forest, "So what's a pragmatic, very very wealthy bugger like you doing getting mugged by the minotaur's malnourished second-cousin then? Shouldn't you have... I dunno, a handsome young man with a substantial battle-axe trailing after you?" Aziraphale frowned. "Should I?" "Well I mean... If you're going to go out at dusk dressed like that-" "Never really thought about it." Crowley looked at the floor. He picked at his nail beds as an idea began to blossom in his head. "Always been fond of battle-axes, me." "Oh?" "And the handsome thing well-" he gestured up and down his body. "Young?" "Less so, I'll give you that. But I'm... You know. In the area for a while. And from a pragmatic point of view, as that seems to be your word of the hour, it'll be easy to do our respective thwarting if we're in close proximity. Takes out a lot of the hassle. And horse riding." "Yes," Aziraphale nodded - it was his turn to develop a sudden vested interest in his nail beds. "I suppose it would." And so it was settled. Crowley was to be Aziraphale's personal protective force, living in close proximity to him and at his beck and call. If anyone dared to suggest that the whole affair was touchingly domestic, Crowley would divert their attention to a cross stitch that he'd cheekily hung above Aziraphale's bed, which read "Pragmatism." *** Crowley leaned heavily on the doorframe, one leg crossed over the other with his toe rested on the ground, and watched with a curious frown as Aziraphale busied around the chamber like a bowerbird - picking things up and then putting them down, fussing with the drapes, all the while muttering under his breath. There were lines gathered in the space between his eyes and his shoulders were stooped miserably. When he saw Crowley, he did a double take so vigorous that it verged on comical and his hand fluttered to his chest. Crowley raised his eyebrows in amusement and gave a little wave. "Hi, name's Crowley. You've known me for four thousand years and also I live here." "Good lord," Aziraphale expelled in a breath, "You can be terribly furtive when you want to be. And you don't live here exactly, however much you make the effort to seem that you do," he said, waving an arm towards the windowsill where a tulip plant that he certainly hadn't put there sat innocently. Crowley shrugged. "S'a big world. I live in this bit of it. Counts as living here as far as I'm concerned." He perched on the edge of the writing desk, pushing a stack of papers out of the way. "Anyway, thought you'd have smelt me. The comforting pungent tang of disobedience and sin." "I did smell evil," Aziraphale said bitterly. He pointed an accusatory finger towards the other end of the desk. "I assumed it was coming from that." Crowley followed his gaze down from Aziraphale's point, until it rested on an envelope with a broken wax seal. "This?" He nodded gravely. Crowley plucked it between his fore and middle finger and peered at the seal. It looked official, and while he couldn't sense any evil influences, the bureaucracy could have been smelt from a mile off. He raised his eyebrows questioningly. Aziraphale sighed a put-upon sigh. "It's a summons. To an affluent banquet, the attendees of which are guaranteed to be at loggerheads with each other. It doesn't say so on there, but reading between the lines, I think it's safe to say that my job will be to keep the respective books as good as possible." He ran a hand down his face, "I'm certain you can feel the enthusiasm coming off me in waves." Crowley made a sympathetic noise. "Polite warfare, worst kind. At least with swords there's an end in sight." Aziraphale hummed glumly. "Worthy cause though, innit? Maybe not enough to get you a full smiley face on Uncle Gabe's reward chart, but worth an eye or two, surely?" "Upstairs haven't exactly been vigilant with their uh..." He made air-quotes, "Reward charts of late. And even if they had been, I'm fairly certain that my enthusiasm levels would remain just about the same. There isn't an awful lot you can buy with celestial wages, unless you're unusually enthusiastic about organ music." Crowley grimaced. "Fair enough." Aziraphale sighed again. "Just something to be endured. Placating. Negotiating. Mingling." Crowley made an affirmative noise. Then a small smile began to creep from the corner of his mouth. "Unless..." "What?" "I mean it's not your fault if you're prevented from going because of some... Demonic activity, now is it?" Aziraphale recoiled backwards a couple of steps and held out the palm of his hand in a 'stop' gesture. "No Crowley, there is no way I will allow you to endanger innocent - if irritating - people just for the sake of-" "For pity's sake Aziraphale, I'm not going to burn the banquet hall down or... Bring forth a plague of locusts - that's more your lot's style anyway. All I meant was, you wouldn't have to go if you... Fell victim to the temptations of a very clever and very handsome demon." Aziraphale opened his mouth to protest, almost by muscle memory, and then stopped. Closed it again. Looked at his feet. "What kind of temptations?" Crowley shrugged. "Oh, you know, sloping off the village inn instead, trying out something potent that Mrs-So-And-So has managed to brew together from her compost heap and the stagnant pond behind the stables. Come on, help a fella out. You know as well as I do that I ought to be seen to be doing something evil up here every once in a while. And think about it... If you come with me, what you're actually doing is some very clever wile thwarting - preventing me from doing a bit of leisurely dam bursting or crop salting or tax-collecting by keeping me occupied with this little bit of low-grade evil." "It's not evil, it's just lazy," Aziraphale said, closing his eyes primly and bobbing his head from side to side proudly. Crowley rolled his eyes. "Sloth is literally one of the seven deadly sins, Aziraphale. If you'd rather I tempted you into one of the heavier, or indeed spicier ones," (any unwarranted comments Crowley's subconscious mind made about lust lust lust lust lust were quickly batted away) "In order to fill my monthly quota, I'm more than willing to -" Aziraphale scoffed, "No, that's quite alright thank you, you..." He dropped into a chair - which had a case of woodworm so severe that it was significantly more 'worm' than 'wood' and made a concerning noise - and folded his arms petulantly. "Dastardly serpent." "Careful angel, pride's a sin too." Crowley said drily. "Is that a yes then?" Aziraphale pursed his lips. Crowley was right - he couldn't technically be blamed for falling victim to the wiles of the opposition. That was just another move on the cosmic chessboard - a way of maintaining the status quo, and heaven really loved the status quo. "It's... Not a no." Crowley blinked. In two-thousand years or so, the notion that Aziraphale was in any way ahead of his time would cause him to fall into a belly-laughing fit so profound that he would teeter dangerously close to discorporation. However, in this moment he was being very ahead of his time, because double negatives would not be invented until the 1800s, when the human population would become obsessed with mathematics and how it could help them efficiently pump the maximum amount of acrid smoke into the atmosphere as quickly as possible, and decide that it needed to be applied to language. So rather than Aziraphale's answer being an affirmative, it was nothing at all. "Is that a yes then?" Crowley repeated, after two more pointed blinks. (Although any blink Crowley produced was pointed, because it took a real effort to remember to do them.) "...yes." Crowley smiled. "This tempting lark, bread and butter. Me and Brian will pick you up at sundown. Wear something inconspicuous, for Satan's sake."

Hi Saurus! When downloading many of your lovely clothing recolors, I noticed that you offer versions that add swatches to the original EA items. Would you ever consider making a tutorial? Specifically, I would like to edit (for personal use, of course) some other CC I've downloaded so that the recolors are with the original items. Or, if you don't want to make a tutorial, do you know of any resources for doing add-on swatches?

Hey there!I do it a lot to declutter my CAS catalogue because I have a lot of CAS cc and it can get a little overwhelming when you have 5 different recolours of the same shirt, hehe.This is actually a really easy trick, though I’m quite terrible at explaining things, so as far as tutorials go… Hope this’ll do. (You’ll be doing the second option if you’re altering existing packages)

1. Creating an addon recolour from scratch

If you’re doing the recolouring of an item yourself, it’s simple and easy:Simply choose the “Add CAS Part Swatch” Option when creating your package.

2. Turning a separate CAS item into an addon:

If you want to turn an existing recolour into an addon, and you don’t want to go through the trouble of creating a new package and importing the swatches (tedious af), all you need to do is make the “PrototypeId”s in the warehouse tab match the item you want them to show under.

View image larger hereTo do this, you first open the mesh package (or whatever package you want the other swatches to show under), find the Prototype ID, and copy it. Open the recolours/addon packages, and replace the Prototype IDs there with the one you copied. Important: the Prototype Id is the same for all swatches, but you must copy over the new ID for every swatch. If there are a lot of swatches, this can be incredibly tedious and time consuming, but, alas, there’s no real shortcut.I hope this “tutorial” made sense, let me know if it was unclear in anyway and I’ll try to clarify!

An open letter to Hamilton (etc) fan artists, Re:whitewashing

Hello. Time for another ill-constructed rant on probably already well-tread ground. Specifically whitewashing in fan art (even more specifically Hamilton art though this could be applied to any fandom) and when it is ok. lol jk it’s never ok. PLEASE NOTE: I am an (amateur) artist. I am not ragging on artists because I “don’t understand how hard making art is,” “how hard artists work,” or what have you. These are legitimate problems of representation in fanart (that I have witnessed firsthand) and this is my earnest attempt to elucidate these issues. Feel free to interact with this post as you see fit. I am always free for debate if you disagree, would like clarification, or have anything to add.  

+Look out for those embedded hyperlinks for more content 

Preface: I am a member of far too many fb Hamilton groups. Sometimes people post their art, apparently forgetting that when you post things online you open yourself to critique. Hilarity ensues.

I often see Hamilton characters (generally portrayed as original Broadway cast members - Lin-Manuel Miranda, Okieriete Onaodowan, Anthony Ramos, etc.) who have been horrifically whitewashed - complete with lightened skin, bizarrely red or light brown hair, lightened eyes, and so forth. The most common defenses for this misstep, from both artists and fans, are personal style and apparent inability to approximate accurate skin tone (“I tried but skin color is hard”). Here’s why both of those excuses are utter bullshit.

1. Personal Style:

A lot of things in life are open to interpretation and all art is inherently interpretive. But the racial and cultural identity of a real life person is not one of these interpretive things. [PAUSE: before anyone says that this is precisely what Hamilton is doing with its casting, don’t.] First of all, I get it, personal style is important to art. Some people trend toward realism while others prefer more abbreviated, abstracted, and/or cartoony styles and part of that is selecting stylized color palettes, interpreting color in new and inventive ways, and playing with light, value, line, form, etc. This is NOT what I am talking about. It is entirely possible to honor a person’s background using relative or approximated shading/tone/coloration and to create beautiful art in the process [example: Chris Vision’s color series]. This little rant is specifically directed at people who "attempt" to depict Hamilton (etc) actors/characters using realistic/semi-realistic color palettes (as in, how they appear irl, accounting for abstraction, drawing style, etc) but fall short when it comes to depicting the actors, particularly in regards to racial background. You can find excellent examples of what I mean at Calling Out Whitewashed Hamilton Art and I’m positive you can find far too many examples in this and many other fandoms simply by scrolling through the tags on Tumblr and Instagram.  So without further ado, lightening a person/character’s skin in fanart is racist. There’s really no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Foremost, the practice of editing a person of color to appear more European (skin, hair, eyes, even facial features) intentionally erases the cultural, racial, and ethnic background of the person in question. This is incredibly disrespectful to the actors who portray these characters and works to undermine what Hamilton as a whole is trying to build. If Hamilton is trying to reclaim American history for People of Color, stripping the racial, ethnic, and cultural backgrounds from the actors represents a rejection of conceit and, perhaps, even a form of appropriation. It is as though “fans” are saying that they want the art that is made by and for POC while simultaneously rejecting the distinctly racialized aspects of that art. When artists depict Lin!Hamilton as white, they are rejecting the Nuyorican background which Lin brings to the character in both writing and performance and projecting faux whiteness upon the character. In doing so, whether consciously or not, they are rejecting the actor’s race as well. Lin is beloved because of the art that he makes which allows many fans to look past his racial and cultural identity rather than accept it as an intrinsic aspect of both the man and his art.  Moreover, the ubiquity of this whitewashed art also reveals a lot about what “fans” find visually appealing and acceptable - e.g., the Eurocentric standard of beauty. Whitewashing in art represents not only a rejection of POC’s culture but, obviously, their physical attributes as well. Dark skin is lightened and or whitened, hair is often straightened and/or lightened to a light brown or red hue (with the exception of Laurens, whose features, hair in particular, are often feminized as a form a queer fetishization but that is a rant for another day), and features are changed to appear more European. Often, depictions of characters are changed so much it is nearly impossible to tell that the art is based on any particular actor. In addition to being, again, extremely disrespectful to the actors, this further perpetuates the extremely harmful notion that beauty only exists in European features and sends a direct message to POC fans that their appearance is neither beautiful not accepted by the fanbase of a piece of media that was made by other POC specifically to appeal to them. This seems especially true of dark skinned black individuals who are often completely stripped of the melanin in fan art, further driving home notions of ingrained cultural colorism and anti-blackness. With Hamilton in particular, it is fine to “change” a character’s race if and only if you are depicting a character as a different actor. For instance, while Lin!Hamilton is Latino, Michael!Hamilton is a black man and depicting Hamilton as such, while uncommon among fan communities, is better than fine [*the lack of art of dark skinned actors is another point of contention. Not only are dark skinned actors frequently whitewashed, many are ignored altogether]. Depicting Michael!Hamilton as light skinned or white, however, is obviously not fine.  Having established that lightening a character’s skin or depicting them with more European features is inherently racist, the claim that whitewashing is a stylistic choice is invalid. If you make the “stylistic choice” to depict a POC as white, you are racist. End of story.  And if you want to do better but find yourself wanting to draw Lin!Hamilton as white, remember that this guy existed and just draw him instead. It’s not that hard.  2. Technical Difficulties:

One of the most unfortunately common excuses for whitewashing in fanart seems to be that, for some reason or another, artists have difficulty accurately approximating actors’ skin color so they presumedly just make something up, This results in Lin!Hamilton and Phillipa!Eliza looking a bit like Snow White, Oak!Mulligan looking a little tan, and so forth. As an artist, I understand that approximating realistic skintones can be rather hard, especially with traditional mediums, but it is glaringly obvious when artists don’t put in any effort.  With traditional mediums such as paint, markers, or color pencils, artists can blend to create the colors which accurately (or as accurately as possible given the limitations of certain mediums like watercolors) approximate actors’ skin tones. If the colors dry lighter than intended, the artist generally layer and blend more to achieve a better approximation. If they then scan their image, they can use a photo editor to fix or correct any mistakes. It might not be the easiest to find good matches (speaking from experience, there aren’t a ton of good warm brown toned markers and thus a lot of blending is sometimes required) but, as previously stated, it’s generally easy to tell when someone at least tried to get close to a correct skin tone. With digital art, it’s even easier. Fact: Nearly all art programs have a nifty eyedropper tool which can be used to pull color swatches directly from a reference picture. Even MSpaint has this function. By pulling multiple swatches from a variety of reference images (to account for different lighting conditions), an artist can build a relatively accurate gradiented palette for skin tone. It’s really that simple! And if an artist notices that the color isn’t quite right, it’s nothing a few tweaks to hue and saturation can’t fix!  If my tone seemed a bit sarcastic/passive aggressive in that last paragraph, it’s because it totally was. I see this excuse so much more often than I see any other excuse for whitewashed fan art and it is incredibly frustrating but also, as an (extraordinarily mediocre) artist myself, it rings incredibly inaccurate, especially for digital art. I completely understand that it sometimes takes a lot of time to get used to a medium but when an artist’s color palette is literally limitless, there is absolutely no reason (aside from personal, possibly subconscious/implicit but no less real, biases) for an actor/character to be depicted as white/light skinned when they are not. As previously discussed, that is disrespectful and harmful, and really only serves to make the artist (and those that support work) look like a jackass.  And look, if you find yourself making whitewashed art, it’s not as though it is impossible to change. When someone criticizes your whitewash-y art, don’t get defensive. Don’t claim that it’s your style or that you don’t know how to color POC. It looks and sounds really fucking ridiculous. Instead, evaluate your art and place it into a cultural context. Take it as an opportunity to improve. And maybe also take the opportunity to learn a little about yourself and your biases.  This wasn’t meant to be a call out post and I’d like to end this on a positive note so here are a few wonderful Hamilton fan artists who are worth a look:  terror-in-a-dream zzzoehsu linmanwhydididothis mikiprice thegentlehoneybee dorothywonderland maeng

Creating Pantone Formulas Part 1

How Do You Create A Pantone® Color Formula? A Behind-the-Scenes Look

This article was recently published on Impressions magazine’s February 2018 edition.

How do we develop the most exact Pantone® color matches?  The short answer is that it’s not as easy as it seems and a lot of effort is involved in getting it done.  Most printers already know that Pantone® is the main color standard key used worldwide. The system consists of color catalogs containing different shades of various colors.  Each color shade is identified with a unique number, often referred to as the Pantone® or PMS color. Having such a standard makes it easy to reference a color exactly and eliminates mistakes or misunderstandings. A customer’s “lavender blue” may not correspond to a printer’s idea of “lavender blue,” but when both are referencing Pantone®7451C, the chance that the printer’s color choice matches the customer’s color vision, increases.

Colors may also look different printed on different types of substrates, so the Pantone® color catalogs are separated into coated (C), uncoated (U) and matte (M) guides to give the user as much accuracy as possible.  Most printers use the coated or uncoated values, often to simulate either shiny plastisol (coated) or matte water-base inks (uncoated).

Another important point to note is to never match a color against a color swatch online. Each monitor is different and a color image viewed on one monitor will be vastly different when viewed on another monitor.  Be sure to invest in an actual Pantone® catalog instead.

It’s not uncommon for customers to request their designs be printed in specific colors. For example, some customers ask for their logo or art to be matched to specific Pantone® colors. Rather than trying to mix and match the ink colors on their own, printers have the option of using a color matching system.

International Coatings offers a number of color matching systems in its UltraMix® line, most notably the 7500 Series Color Mixing System.  These systems consist of a number of ‘primary’ colors that when mixed according to a formula, will produce a fairly close Pantone® color simulation.  The formulas for the various color mixing systems we carry are published on our Formulation Calculator website (http://www.iccultramix.com). Obviously, these formulas are specific to our color systems and would not match if other ink systems were used.

So how is the formula developed?  Well, we start by getting a new Pantone® book every year and then meticulously go through every color, one-by-one.  Considering there are over 1,867 existing colors, it’s a monumental task.  To complicate things, Pantone® releases over 100 new colors around March of each year!  For example in 2016 alone, Pantone® added 112 new colors.

Difference in PMS colors between two Pantone® books, each supposedly with the same color value

Aside from the number of colors that we need to match and manage, we also watch for color shifts in the Pantone® colors.  Many don’t realize that colors in the Pantone® booklets tend to shift with age or exposure to harsh lighting or operating conditions.  (It’s important to store the books in a protected environment and switch them out on a regular basis.)  In addition, Pantone®’s “standard” colors often do not match exactly from year to year.  This may be due to their printing process or changes in the paper they print on; but colors from a book printed last year or a couple of years ago, may be different from the book coming out this year. This may be true on only certain shades or colorways, but may present a significant shift nevertheless.

Stay tuned for Part 2 of the article.

Mark Brouillard is International Coatings’ product manager and has considerable experience in formulating and manufacturing industrial compounds.  For the past 16 years, his focus has been on the formulation and product development of textile screen printing inks.

International Coatings manufactures a complete line of Centris

 non-Phthalate screen printing inks, including a wide variety of whites, specialty inks, special effects inks,color matching systems, additives and reducers.  In addition, International Coatings also manufactures a line of AXEON

non-Phthalate, non-PVC special effects inks. For more information on our products, please visit our website at www.iccink.com.

  from International Coatings Blog https://internationalcoatings.wordpress.com/2018/02/15/creating-pantone-formulas-part-1/ Come to Internationalcoatings.com from Blogger http://lamurdis.blogspot.com/2018/02/creating-pantone-formulas-part-1.html

Hands-on – The 2020 Breguet Classique 7337 Calendar & Moon With New Dials

Earlier this year, Breguet unveiled its models for 2020 including this Classique 7337 Calendar & Moon watch. One of the main themes at Breguet for 2020 has been the introduction of blue dials in its Classique family with the 7137 Moon & Power Reserve, this 7337 Calendar & Moon and the 5377 Tourbillon Extra-Plat. Like so many Breguet watches, the 7337 was inspired by a historical pocket watch (well, in fact, two historical pocket watches) made by founder Abraham-Louis Breguet in the early 1800s. The exquisite layout of the original dial with its impeccable guillochage and the off-centred arrangement has been the muse for various iterations over the years. However, having had the privilege of a hands-on session with both the rose gold/silver dial and white gold/blue dial models of 2020, the only problem we had was deciding which one was our favourite.

Historical References

During his lifetime (1747-1823), Breguet’s innovative and highly technical mind led to the invention of the spring-gong for repeater watches, the first shock-absorber device (para-chute), the Breguet balance spring, the sympathique watch, the tact watch, and of course the tourbillon, patented on 26 June 1801. But Breguet was also famous for his aesthetic approach to watchmaking creating a new design language that eschewed the overly decorated watches of the day. Rebranded in more contemporary marketing jargon as the ‘unmistakable signs’ of a Breguet watch, features like guillochage, off-centred displays, enamel dials, caseband fluting, Breguet hands and numerals, and a host of other Breguet decorative dictates are rigorously upheld today.

Extract from the book Breguet – Art And Innovation In Watchmaking, by Emmanuel Breguet

One of the historical inspirations that is not specifically mentioned by the brand, but that we believe inspired the  7337, was the Breguet tact watch no. 4579. A delightful gold pocket watch, no. 4579 was sold to Monsieur De Roos on 1 June 1829 for the sum of 5,080 francs. (A quick search throws up the name of John Frederick Fitzgerald de Roos, a British Royal Navy commander. Was he the mystery man who bought this watch?) Displaying a moon phase indicator at noon, two lateral apertures for the day of the week and the date, a large off-centred hour ring for the hours and minutes, and even a small power reserve indicator, no. 4579 also featured Breguet’s ingeniously simple way of telling the time by touch. Using a pointer on the outside case to reproduce the position of the hour hand, the wearer could then calculate the time by counting the studs on the sides of the case. Sold from 1799 on, tact watches were sometimes known as ‘watches for the blind’ but you can imagine the utility of this system in a long-winded meeting or in a dark cabin below deck. It is a feature of elegant women and men, in order to tell the time without having to pull your watch out of its pocket.

The other pocket watch – no. 3833, sold in 1823 – is officially cited as the inspiration behind the reference 7337. It certainly displays the same layout and practically the same functionality as the current reference, but it was a half-quarter repeating watch. Whichever way, and taking into account that the power reserve indicator on the historic models was abandoned in exchange of a small seconds counter, there can be no doubt that these historic pocket watches were behind Breguet’s ref. 7337.

The 36mm Breguet Ref. 3330, the first wristwatch to reintroduce the elegant calendar & moon display seen in historical watches above. Photo by Antiquorum

Following the acquisition of the brand by Swatch Group in 1999, a wristwatch closely modelled on the above-mentioned pocket watches (and earlier models made when Breguet was owned by Investcorp) appeared in Breguet’s collection. Known as Ref. 7377, it was released in yellow, white and rose gold with silver dials. The two new 2020 models join this illustrious family displaying the subtle but effective design modifications on the dial and the novelty of a ‘Breguet blue’ dial colour. The case, the case size and even the movement are all identical to the existing models.

The modern evolution of this typically-Breguet display, with the new editions of the Classique 7337 – which includes this appealing blue model.

eccentric harmony

If you were to take all the features of the dial and lay them out on a table and then ask somebody from outside the watch industry to arrange them harmoniously, chances are you’d get a pretty ugly dial. Therein lies Abraham-Louis Breguet’s extraordinary talent for arranging disparate elements on a dial to create a harmonious effect. Instead of settling for a more conventional arrangement of peripheral hours and minutes and the phases of the moon at 6 o’clock, Breguet went for an extremely unorthodox layout.

Here, for example, you have a plump, bottom-heavy figure-eight composed of the hours and minutes chapter ring surmounted by a smaller arch-shaped moon phase indicator, exactly the same as the arrangement found on the historic pocket watches. On either side of the hour ring are two bosom-shaped apertures inclined at an angle, one at 10 o’clock for the day of the week and the other at 2 ‘clock for the date. And then there is the running seconds disc inserted inside the hour ring at an odd 5 o’clock position.  What is remarkable is just how harmonious and appealing this unconventional layout results.

The most apparent modification has taken place in the moon phase aperture at noon. The older 7377 models have a classic golden ‘Man in the Moon’ face surrounded by golden stars. The new silver embossed moon in the aperture is far more realistic. Complete with craters, the silver moon floats in a midnight blue sky punctuated with different sizes of silver stars. Another subtle modification is the use of slightly thinner, less heavy numerals on the hour ring (Roman) and the age of the moon (Arabic). The hands are classic Breguet open-tipped hands, which Breguet designed in 1783.

Guillochage

Breguet was the first watchmaker to apply guillochage to his dials and used different styles of guillochage to delineate the different functions and enhance legibility. Even without modern-day inventions like luminescent paint, you have to admit that the dials of both the 7337 watches are remarkably clear and easy to read; perhaps even more so in the blue version, which benefits from a greater contrast between the blue guilloche background and the silvered tracks.

The technique of guillochage has barely changed since Breguet’s days and guillocheurs in Breguet’s manufacture still rely on historic rose engine lathes operated by hand. You can get a feel for what this entails in our article and this short video filmed at Breguet. Starting life as a solid 18k gold blank, an engraver chisels the areas on the dial that will feature guillochage. Here you can see the central part of the dial has been decorated with a hobnail pattern (clous de Paris) while the small seconds at 5 o’clock has a chequerboard (damier) motif and the rest of the dial is engine-turned with a barleycorn pattern (grain d’orge). In addition to delineating the different functions, the guillochage provides a matte glare-free background that enhances legibility no end. Some light hand-engravings are also found next to the moon indication, which has also been updated with a realistic moon surface instead of a ‘face’ in previous editions.

The case is faithful to Breguet’s philosophy of neo-classical elegance and simplicity. Measuring 39mm across and with a height of 9.9mm, the case – in white gold or rose gold – is the essence of sobriety with a minimum of decoration, save for the hallmark fluting on the caseband.

Calibre 502

Underneath the sapphire crystal caseback is Breguet’s classic calibre 502 – in this case, the 502.3 QSE1. An ultra-thin automatic movement, the calibre has a thickness of just 3.80mm. Echoing the eccentric layout of the dial and the guillochage decoration, the rotor is also offset and decorated with guillochage. The bridges are bevelled and decorated with Geneva stripes and you can just discern the profile of the open barrel spring. Comprised of 236 components, with 35 jewels and running at a 3Hz frequency, the power reserve is 45 hours. It also features modern components like the incorporation of a silicon balance spring and a lever escapement with silicon horns.

Thoughts

Owning a Breguet Classique 7337 Calendar & Moon is like wearing a slice of history on your wrist. Practically every design detail harks back to the founder’s aesthetic dictates. What is surprising though is the timelessness of Breguet’s unusual layouts, as intriguing today as they were two hundred years ago.

While the silver dial model is classic Breguet to the core, the ‘Breguet blue’ model is even more intriguing. I know that Brice prefers the silver dial (editor’s note: I indeed prefer the silver version… but I have zero objectivity regarding this watch, being my all-time favourite Breguet watch), a colour that you won’t grow tired of in the long run, but my heart goes out for the blue dial. The crisp contrasts and the elegant shade of blue make it hyper-easy to consult and give it a more contemporary mood.

Price & Availability

Depending on the model selected, the Breguet Classique 7337 Calendar & Moon is accompanied on a blue or brown alligator strap with a folding buckle matching the case material and shaped like the brand’s logo. The price for these two new versions (7337BB/Y5/9VU, white gold and 7337BR/15/9VU, rose gold) will be EUR 41,900. Both models are now available from boutiques and selected retailers.

More details at breguet.com.

The post Hands-on – The 2020 Breguet Classique 7337 Calendar & Moon With New Dials appeared first on Wristwatch Journal.

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