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#I'm actually pretty proud of these
madame-mongoose · 1 year
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I am once again Chai posting
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wolfram-but-art · 2 months
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drew one of the memes in this person's post again
reblogs > likes
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maareyas · 1 month
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12:54 04:05:20XX - Mariana Trench Mission Objective: Investigate whale fall - An unknown creature was already present at the site when the deep sea probe arrived. He immediately fled from the probe's line of sight after seemingly recognizing what it was. - The probe was then brought offline by an unknown assailant; Most likely the creature.
My interpretation of a merhog Silver for Mermay ✨
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mintjeru · 2 months
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i've been streaming a blind playthrough of hollow knight to 2 groups of people for the past month and a half and i really wanted to share some of my favorite experiences ><
open for better quality | no reposts
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somnimagus · 9 months
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My page for @destinytriofanzine! I drew something about kids always dreaming of far off places
[id in alt!]
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avisisisis · 11 months
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Seeing people saying that Satoru doesn't actually care about Suguru and that the only reason Kenjaku caught him was bc he was surprised to see a person he killed alive is fucking wild, man
Like. Gojo's entire life revolves around Geto. The entire series happens because he loved Suguru too much to kill him, even though he knew he would have to do it eventually. The world literally went to shit because he wasn't over him
Geto Suguru's life would be completely unimportant to the story without Gojo Satoru, and Gojo Satoru's would be completely unimportant without Geto Suguru. They complement each other. They need each other
Two male betta fishes can't coexist. They will fight and one will die. They can't see each other — even if they're in different tanks, they won't be able to live. They'd eventually tire each other out, resulting in death. The only way for Satoru and Suguru's lives to be able to continue without the other would've been for them to never have met at all. And they can't be together. Not now, not ever again. Not while they're still alive. Not after everything that's happened
The entire story revolves around their relationship. Yuuji is a boy who ate a curse('s finger[s]), and Megumi is the prodigy who befriends him. Satoru is a prodigy, the strongest, and Suguru, the boy whose technique is eating curses, befriends him. The Jujutsu Kaisen story is all about parallels and they all connect to fucking Satosugu. It's all about them
The only reason Kenjaku's plan worked is because the body he used didn't belong to some random person Gojo killed, it worked because the body he used was Geto Suguru's, Gojo's one and only, his best friend. He must be thinking “Thank god they're gay” right now lmao
Gojo fucking hesitated. He hesitated multiple times when it came to Geto. He was supposed to kill him, yet he let him go. He has the Six Eyes, he could've easily tracked him down. He probably could tell if he was nearby (he can recognize Suguru from his scent) and just didn't go looking for him. And he could've so very easily escaped the trap that was set up for him, he was going to run away from it because we see him about to take that step but then Suguru's body shows up and says “Yo, Satoru!” with Suguru's voice and Satoru freezes and hesitates
They weren't able to let go of each other even after years of being separated (like a decade). When they meet, Suguru still greets Satoru warmly
Suguru is pretty much Satoru's moral code. He was the only person Satoru took at least mildly seriously pre-Toji (and we know Satoru just didn't do serious back then). He actually took his words to heart. He was kind, of course (especially from Suguru's PoV, since he's the person that knows him most), and not a bad person, but he wasn't nice. Suguru was always the ‘nice(r) one’, the one who actually had a moral code, while Satoru was more of an asshole to literally everyone and everything (some more, some less), thinking he and Suguru were above everyone else
When Suguru finally snaps (which, honestly. Fair) and goes genocidal (not so fair), Satoru slowly starts to be somewhat nicer and starts applying Suguru's old moral code to his own being — their roles weren't exactly reversed, but now they're not together anymore, so they might as well be. And Suguru was shown for having faith in the school and its system while it was Satoru the one who absolutely abhorred the higher-ups and all kinds of authority, but then it ended up with Suguru being the one to leave and become a cult leader with the blood of hundreds on his hands while Satoru was the one that stayed behind in the same place of the people he despises so much
(Imagine someone saying something like “Sometimes I doubt you even have a moral code” and Gojo answers with “Oh, my best friend my one and only is pretty much my moral code. He went homicidal a while back but it's okay haha” “...Actually, that explains a few things”)
Gojo doesn't have a god complex, but I wouldn't blame him if he did. I mean, he might as well be the closest thing to god human beings have ever seen. He used to put himself above everyone else, when he was a teenager. He thought that, the higher he was, the more he could do. And no one was better than him. But not Suguru. Back then, it wasn't “I'm the strongest” it was “We're the strongest and “We're the best” and “We're the ones that will beat you” and “We're the duo” and it was all about “us, us, us, us, us” instead of “me, me, me, me” like people thought it was — they were a pair. They still are
We know people thought and still think of Gojo as a weapon. As something that must be controlled, because on the moment he decides he doesn't want to be around them anymore, he could just straight up kill then without any effort (but getting rid of people in positions of power only gets other people in positions of power and it'll be a neverending story, and Gojo knows this so he's trying to do his best to fix it all through the younger generation, by letting them live). And we also know that Suguru is one of the very few people who did not believe that at all
Like their personalities and characters and stories and literally everything, their names complement each other. Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru are such similar names, I get them mixed up all the time (the amount of times I've called them “Gojo Suguru” and “Geto Satoru” is embarassing. Also, “Saturu”. “Goto”. “Gejo”. Ugh). Both of their last names start with a G, end with an O and have 4 letters. Both of their given names start with an S, end with an U and have 6 letters. They complement each other. They need each other
The only times we've seen Gojo with an expression of actual pure, raw emotion is when it's about Geto. When he finds out about what Geto did, when he realizes how thin and wrong Geto looks, when he sees him again for what we assume to be the first time in years, when he dies, when a thing wearing his corpse and using his voice greets him (“Yo, Satoru!” oh my god)
Suguru was able to fight back when in Kenjaku's control after Satoru said his name. Kenjaku himself says that had never happened before
And you don't even have to see them as romantic. You don't have to ship them if you don't want to. But you can't deny that they care about each other more than they will ever care about anyone else
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leveragehunters · 5 months
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Back in ye olde small phone days, I had this little pouch that clipped to my backpack strap and it was so great - my phone and transit card (and mini Maglite, chapstick, earphones etc) were right there! No having to dig them out of my pack! But all joy is fleeting and when I upgraded my phone, it didn't fit. No more convenient pouch.
Except fast forward to now, in possession of both loom and sewing machine, and it hit me that I could just...make one that did fit. So I did!
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I wove the cloth on the rigid heddle out of 4ply merino/silk and the bands on the inkle loom out of 8/4 cotton, grabbed some quilting cotton for the lining, and sewed them all up into a little zippered pouch.
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A band runs up the back with a clip that clips to the D-ring, and I sewed velcro to the side bands to wrap around the strap and secure it in place. It holds my phone and everything else, right where I need them, and I'm so chuffed!
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Hermit-a-Day May Day 8: xBCrafted. Today's medium/style is pixel art + the NPC portraits from Stardew Valley. I have no idea if that suits xB at all, since I hadn't watched any of his content before today, and also I have only played like an hour of Stardew. So. I was kind of flying blind on this one, but I really enjoyed it regardless! (List of materials under the read more.)
References: I won't put the actual pictures here, since that would take up a ton of space, but I spent the most time staring at Alex, Gil, and Leah's portraits on The Spriters Resource, as well as xB's skin on NameMC. Also a picture of the actual guardian mob from Minecraft, specifically the tail (for his ear fins).
Materials: downloaded PNG of Abigail's portrait sprite from Spriters Resource (for the background, so I didn't have to copy it pixel by pixel); Krita.
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trensu · 8 months
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Some more of stasis in darkness. you have no idea how many times i've written this scene. i discarded three or four different versions of it before i came up with this one. i feel like this version worked best for the characters. or at least i hope they feel in character.
It was the ninth night.
Steve took his usual spot before the shrine. He greeted his god as he had before but decided tonight was going to be a quiet night. He didn’t have much to say so he’d simply let his faith burn bright in his silent vigil.
Hours passed, and again the strange man didn’t show up as he had been the nights prior. This time, Steve didn’t bother putting it off. He decided to do a perimeter check. As he stood, however, a cacophony of squeaks and beating wings filled the air.
A massive colony of bats burst into the clearing. They moved shockingly fast as they neared Steve and the shrine. Steve ducked his head under his arms but let the bats come. He ignored the little Robin in his head yelling about rabies. He couldn’t risk hurting one of his god’s favored creatures. 
There were so many of them, more than Steve had ever seen in his life. They flew round and round dropping altitude until they coalesced at the foot of the shrine. The din stopped as abruptly as it had started. When Steve could no longer hear a single squeak or feel wings zipping overhead, he lowered his arms. Cautiously, he lifted his head, eyes drawn immediately to the shrine to check for any damage. 
Not a single bat remained. Instead, the strange man sat, cross legged, at the statue’s feet. He wore a dark cloak comprised of deep navies, bruising purples, and an inky black. Each color slowly, gracefully shifted and melted one into another, again and again before Steve’s eyes. Flecks of light littered it in familiar formations. The clasp that secured it around the man was a bright silvery white. It was shaped exactly the same as the waning moon above. 
“Ta-da!” the man said, fluttering his hands in a showman’s gesture.
Steve took in the man's appearance. The ratty travel clothes, the cloak of constellations and its clasp…Steve leapt back in shock. Everything suddenly clicked into place very quickly to paint a very unflattering picture of himself. He whirled around. He couldn't face the shrine. 
"Shit," Steve's voice was loud with a stunned sort of panic as he remembered the events of the past week. He paced anxiously. "Shit, shit. It was y–the whole time, you were–FUCK. How did I miss–and even if you weren't you, you were still a traveler in the night and I treated you like–I'm a fucking idiot. I'm the stupidest man alive, how–"
"Probably from getting dropped on the head so much, huh?" the man asked with that same annoyingly self-satisfied voice he'd been using every night. The annoying stranger with his annoying questions and his stupid smug tone.
Mindlessly, Steve turned on his heel to glare at the man. He jabbed an accusatory finger in his direction, frustration flaring.
"Oh, you can fuck right off, man," Steve replied reflexively. "I am having a crisis!"
A split second later, he felt his stomach drop to his feet. This wasn't just a stranger talking. He backpedaled hard.
"Oh, ohhhh no, I didn't mean that, Lord, I-I wasn't thinking."
The man exploded into raucous laughter. It shook his whole body until he doubled over from the strength of it. He continued to laugh when he toppled off the side of his perch and landed with a thunk on the ground. The man sat up, wheezing and wiping at his face, mirth clearly keeping him in a choke-hold. 
"Oh, far be it for me to interrupt your crisis," the Lord of Night forced out amidst the laughter. He flapped a hand at him. "Please, continue."
The god attempted to regain composure but all that did was turn his full bellied guffaws into snorting giggles. Steve waited, his anxiety fading in the face of the god’s genuine good humor. It took another couple of minutes before the god calmed enough to pop back to his feet and climb back onto the plinth. The man made himself comfortable at the foot of his own statue as he had before.
"So how goes the crisis?" he asked mischievously.
"On hold," Steve said evenly, fighting back the start of a smile. The man said nothing but still radiated amusement. Steve crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you really the Lord of Night?"
"The one and only!"
“And you’ve been here the whole time?”
“Yep!”
“So why didn’t you say anything? I mean, I talked to you every night! I don’t get it.” Steve paused as a thought occurred to him. “Was this a test?”
“Uh…yes? Yes.”
Steve narrowed his eyes. The god shifted in his seated position. It reminded Steve of the time Dustin shattered a jar of his most expensive hair product and tried to hide it. Dustin had squirmed guiltily under Steve’s expectant gaze until he confessed to his dastardly crime. Apparently, the method worked on gods as well.
“Okay, it started more as an attempt to get you to leave me alone,” the Lord of Night admitted. 
“Oh.” It came out blankly, which Steve was grateful for, because he felt like he’d been kicked in the chest by a mule. “You don’t want me.”
Steve wasn't sure why he was surprised. This was a classic Steve problem. He tamped down the old familiar sting of rejection. Steve knew going in that this had been a possibility. It was a god’s right to reject an offering.
“I never wanted any holy warriors,” the Lord of Night corrected. “Hence the attempt to make you leave.” 
Steve supposed that lessened the blow a little. It was an impersonal rejection. That was better, right? 
"If you didn't want me as your holy warrior you could've just said," Steve said ruefully.
“You seemed pretty determined to come back, though.”
“Only because I thought you’d want to, like, use me for something. If you’d asked me to, I would’ve stopped bothering you. I could’ve gotten someone else who could worship you better,” Steve said, trying to keep his voice light and unaffected.
"Yeah, I really don’t think you could have,” the Lord of Night said in a strained tone. 
“No, I mean it,” Steve insisted. “I told you, Robin and Dustin wanted to come along. They would make sure you’re not alone again. You would like them. They pick up on stuff faster than me. They’d be good worshipers.”
“That’s not what I meant. Your worship was, uh, it was…no, nevermind, forget that. The thing is, the more you came back the more I…” 
The Lord of Night trailed off. He tugged his dark starry cloak around him tighter. When he spoke again, he seemed to have switched tracks entirely. 
"Look, I don't know exactly how the holy warrior thing works, but you guys do quests for your gods, right?"
"Well, yeah, that's the whole point. We're your boots on the ground. We do acts in your service to spread your faith. Like priests but less boring." 
The god snorted which made Steve grin.
"Priests are so boring," the Lord of Night agreed. 
Things went quiet again. The cloak of constellations made it hard to see his god, but Steve got the impression that the Lord of Night was fidgeting. Steve remembered the conversation from a few nights before, about nervousness and not knowing what to do. Steve fell back on his social graces, his good old Harrington charm, and carefully picked something that would encourage the god to speak.
"I can't believe I didn’t see it,” Steve said, with a self-deprecating shake of his head. “Like, I know I'm not the smartest guy around but I didn't think I was that slow."
"Don't worry about it,” the god replied instantly, breaking out of his internal reverie. “That's not on you. I didn't want you to notice, so you didn't."
"Oh."
"Yep. And, it's not like I have a face to remember, so, y'know. You're good."
"I guess that does make me feel bet–wait. What do you mean you don’t have a face?” Steve squinted at the Lord of Night.
“Well, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I lost my name,” the Lord of Night said with a hint of irony. “No name, no face.”
“But I saw it,” Steve insisted.
“Did you?” the Lord of Night asked, amused. He slid off the plinth and walked up to Steve until he was only three feet away. The god lowered his hood without any flourish. “What do I look like?”
Steve squinted at him studiously. The god was pale as moonlight and had hair as dark as the night itself; as for the rest of him…it was the strangest thing. Steve knew there was a pair of eyes under a brow. There was a nose above a mouth. He knew the right features were in the right places. However, he couldn’t tell if the eyes were dark or pale. He couldn’t say whether the nose was large or small. The mouth could be thin or it could be full. 
“I don’t know,” Steve relented. The Lord of Night nodded.
“Yeah, me neither.”
“Is…is that the quest? To find your name?” Steve asked, dread pooling in his belly. That quest would involve a lot of reading and…he didn’t even know. Language things? General research, for sure. None of which Steve was particularly good at.
“That’s a bit presumptuous of you,” the Lord of Night smirked. He didn't give Steve a chance to apologize. “But yeah, there’s something important that needs to be done. I’m not strong enough to do it myself and I’m running out of time to do it.”
“I can do it,” Steve responded. “I’ll do it for you, my Lord.”
“You don’t even know what the quest is,” the god said wistfully.
“But I know you wouldn’t ask me to do anything cruel or unfair.”
“You’re unbelievable,” the Lord of Night muttered under his breath. Steve didn’t think he was supposed to hear that so he kept quiet. In a louder voice, the god resumed. “Okay, are you sure you wanna do this? Be a holy warrior? Because you could be literally anything else. You told me you liked cooking during one of your prayer sessions. You could open up a restaurant! Restaurant owners don’t usually die in the line of duty or whatever.”
Steve resisted the urge to roll his eyes. This is what Steve trained for, what he was good at, and he wanted to put those skills to use.
“You said you needed help to do something important. I want to be the one that helps you. I want to be your warrior. I can do it, I know I can. I won’t let you down.” Steve bit his lip uncertainly as a thought struck him. "If you don't think I'm worthy–"
“It’s not about worthiness!" The god cut in. "Do you know what it would mean to be my holy warrior? The weight of the night sky, with all the stars and the moon, will be on your shoulders for as long as you walk the land. I don’t know much about holy warriors but I remember this: there’s no take-backs. You can’t just quit and go off to become something else later.”
“Yes, I know. We covered this in lectures at school. It wasn’t all swordplay," Steve said impatiently. "I did think about it once I finished training and I decided if I could find a god to pledge myself to, I didn't want to be anything else. Then I found you."
“...Okay. If you're sure, then okay,” the Lord of Night said decisively. “So what do I have to do? How do I make you mine?”
“Um, I think it’s different from god to god?” Steve stuttered, heart thumping at the god’s words. “But I guess we can do our own thing? I’m pretty sure it’s the intent that matters most.”
"I can work with that." The Lord of Night gestured downward. "Kneel, kneel. I have an idea of what to say.
"Should I close my eyes or something?" Steve asked once he’d gotten to his knees.
"Nah, this is good," Lord Night said. 
The god squared his shoulders and straightened his spine. Then, something miraculous happened. The Lord of Night spoke his name aloud.
“Steve Harrington.”
It was the first time his god ever said his name; it was stunning in a way Steve couldn’t begin to comprehend. A bolt of lightning down his spine. A roaring forge in his chest. A whirlwind in his lungs. It felt like all of that simultaneously, yet nothing like that at all. How could pitiful human speech hope to encompass the intensity of a god’s undivided attention; his god’s specific acknowledgement of a primitive life such as his? 
Tears sprang unbidden in Steve’s eyes. He became aware how lowly and frail his own body was, and how utterly insignificant his existence was in the vastness of the stars in the sky. He curled forward, hiding his face and making himself as small as he could. He could not bear his god seeing his mortal failings and imperfections. It would invite an exquisite, holy agony Steve surely wouldn’t survive. 
“Oh,” the Lord of Night breathed. “I forgot how that could feel to a human. I’ll try not to do it again.”
“No,” the word tore out of Steve’s throat without any conscious thought. “No, please. Please, my Lord.”
Steve didn’t even know what he was begging for because the singular attention of a god was agony but the thought of his god leaving him filled him with terror. He shattered, left with no purchase save his god’s words. Then there were arms around him, pulling him close, and enveloping him in constellations. Steve’s vision blurred. Great, heaving sobs overcame him as though ripped from his very soul. The Lord of Night murmured comfortingly.
“Alright, there we go,” he said softly. “I’m here, Steve. I see you in the night, every night. The stars shine for you, Steve. The moon turns its face for you. I’m with you, Steve.”
The words crashed into him with the unrelenting force of ocean waves. They swept his footing from underneath him and sent him spinning endlessly, endlessly. They lifted him upwards and sent him plummeting down until he was deep below the surface where the currents finally slowed. Surrounded by eternally burning stars, he was left weightless and suspended in an unearthly calm. The words rang in his skull with the surety and strength only a celestial being could claim.
Somewhere between an eternity and no time at all, Steve came back to himself feeling overexerted, though he hadn’t moved from where he knelt. Steve’s heart and soul had been scraped out of his chest, put between a pestle and mortar before getting unceremoniously dumped back in his weak flesh, but in a weirdly good way. His sobs subsided. His breathing came in and out slowly.
Eventually the cloak of constellations released him as well. He blinked his eyes open gradually to see his god kneeling before him at arm's length, palms resting on Steve's shoulders. Steve felt a stab of shame at having brought his god down low to a mortal's level. 
“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Steve croaked. “Do you still–? Can I still be–?”
“No, yeah,” the Lord of Night said straight away. “That was on me. Not your fault at all. I’m out of practice interacting with mortals."
The god’s words lost the gravitas from before in a way that would've been jarring if it weren't such a relief. He finally broke his hold on Steve. He got to his feet, somewhat gracelessly. 
"Let’s try that again?” the Lord of Night asked.
Steve cleared his throat. He straightened up where he knelt and kept himself still. He nodded to show he was ready.
“Steve Harrington,” the god said. This time hearing his name on his god’s lips was exhilarating but at a level a human could bear. “Do you swear to spread my values in the minds and hearts of mortals, through action and word?”
“I swear.”
“Then will you, Steve Harrington, do me the honor of being my sword and shield? Will you carry my crest through all your agonies and all your joys?”
“Yes.”
For a breathless moment, their words hung in the air, resonating through the night with finality. The Lord of Night reached out and gently traced something on Steve's forehead. Steve assumed it was his god's sigil, though neither Robin or Dustin could find any images of it so he couldn't be sure. It felt like an incomplete circle with a squiggle running through it. The god stepped back to observe him when he was done.
The stillness that followed, ironically, rattled Steve’s bones with relief and joy that it was done. His god had accepted him. Then the Lord of Night shuffled his feet in an awkward, shy manner.
“Cool,” said the Lord of Night.
The heaviness and tension brought down by the gravity of their oath ruptured with that single world, and Steve could do nothing but dissolve in helpless, giddy giggles.
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lynaferns · 1 year
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(EDIT: I’ve been seeing many people tag this as ‘fnaf sun’, just to let you know, this is actually an eclipse fanart/interpretation, sorry for the misunderstanding.)
I’ve decided that it’s finished (before I go insane)
I wanted to stack the last 3 images under a cut but I couldn’t make it work
I need to get better at coloring so I don’t waste so many details of the lineart... or get better at lineart so I don’t do so many details that will go to waste
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averlym · 6 months
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fairest of the fair
#hi! im alive and back and etc.#six the musical#six the musical fanart#katherine howard#thinking of that post going 'i think eventually you become the person you needed most' and like maybe that's the thing with my art#this started out as a redraw and <improvement meme> i think i've finally reached the stage where i'm making the things that my younger self#aspired to create. like i can do this now! i've reached That level of technical skill! tiny me would be so proud. it's very gratifying#redraw from august this year actually. i've made a surprising amount of improvement HAHA maybe it was the adamandi stuff getting me#back into digital rendering. i think that obsession has quietly slipped away but yknow. one never truly leaves a fandom. just less intensit#also speaking of old fandoms! we're back with the six stuff haha. as of writing i'm in the midst of blog revamp- figuring out how to chill#multifandom status doesn't mean ditch all the old stuff ! but i do feel much freer and less stressed. i think hiatus has been good for me#notes on this piece particularly: redraw about cutting hair and thinking of the lyric above. also lowkey &j ref + pinterest poem excerpts#of female suffering. and maybe a dash of amanda heng let's walk inspo. this work is really just full of contradictions..#1. the mirror and cutting hair as an act of self liberation 2. the & is part of the lyric but also a nod to &j (in another iteration it was#pink but the white looked better) and like. &j is really all !!! girl power!!! etc. and i was like hmmmm. also matching pink shiny aes#3. the frame as a cage; the mirror as a self reflection idea (ie. saville's propped insp) but also as a sign of vanity. 4. sparkly costume#and pretty pose- read one too many poems about women feeling like they have to be pretty even in their suffering. something i wanted to#explore. and also in 5. the show itself... all you wanna do is. despite all the dancing and pink and sparkly the content of the song is#darker. and even though it's a story of her suffering it's still presented as a shiny fun pop song and ajshdhfhfh ok... 6. the lyrics fall#outside the frame. sort of a caught inbetween. sort of a trapped in the narrative and yet#within the frame it's all. vaguely handwavy breaking free vibes. like i said contradictions?#7. cutting off the long ponytail vs the pull my hair lyric at the end. yeah#8. the blocked off & looks a bit like scissors. positioned to cut right at the neck#anyways yeah irl remains hectic! but if i get around to more doodles they'll appear here :)
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discountdoctorwhom · 2 years
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No one will ever know you’re really Laszlo Cravensworth with this fantastic costume!
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gamebunny-advance · 1 month
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"Let's Dance"
(Loop the video for the intended experience.)
Even though I actually forgot that the 1st was Mayday's birthday, I got the sudden urge to draw something like this. It's a little belated, but let's call this birthday art anyway~
As frustrating as it is, I booted up AnimeEffects for this one to get a little bounce on 'em. It's a little scuffed, but I'm kinda tired of banging my head against a wall trying to make it better~
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egophiliac · 2 years
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after a lot of back and forth of “but I’m saving for episode 7, there’s gonna be four of them, gotta hoard” vs “this is a limited pickup, do you have EYES, go for the fairy ballerina” I ended up spending all 120 of my keys, didn’t get him, and now.
now they have the AUDACITY.
to go “oh btw he can also turn pink :) :) :)”
this is an attack on me personally and I have no choice but to vent my frustrations with an overuse of textures and watercolor brushes. if I can’t have him then at least let me have a million paper layers instead. >:(
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snek-panini · 3 months
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Today I've got binderary book #3 to share! It's a lighthouse (burning) by books-and-omens. This is a really excellent canonverse (sort of) historical setting liminal ghost story-esque fic that I read practically in one sitting sometime last summer. It's fantastic, well-characterized, angsty and fluffy and fairly plotty and with some really unique worldbuilding. I honestly can't sing its praises enough; it's one of the only times since taking up this hobby that I've known I wanted to bind something before I actually finished reading it.
Have a look at the rest of the photos under the cut; this one came out really well and I'm in love with it.
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For this cover we have lineco book cloth on the spine, a strip of chiyogami paper that I got in one one ChibiJay's random paper packs, and blue-gray sketch paper for the primary gray space. It's a little hard to tell in the photos but the HTV for the titles is in two different colors, silver for "a lighthouse" and pewter for "(burning)". The effect is more pronounced in person and I love it. The pewter came in a multi-pack of cricut foil HTV and I can't seem to find it on its own anywhere, which is a shame because it's beautiful. The sort of streaky effect on the cover was unintentional but I'm kinda liking it? It's a more porous paper for drawing or painting or something, and I tried to wax it for waterproofing, but when I used the heat press to get the title on the wax darkened in the spots where the glue was applied to the cover board. At first I was disappointed, but the fic features a really massive unnatural storm, and it sort of looks like water running down a windowpane, so I'm leaning into that and calling it an aesthetic. The back didn't get this heat treatment, so it doesn't have the pattern.
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Top view, showing the bookmark and handmade end bands. The bookmark is a navy blue ribbon cut from the inside of a shirt, and I chose red and white because there are so many picturesque lighthouses that have red and white stripes. It's the only color in the book that's not blue or gray. The endpapers are a navy blue silk moire, and I had better luck with them than I did with the platinum ones on my Persuasion bind even though they are the same brand. Maybe it's practice or maybe navy just hides more sins than platinum.
For the title page I went fairly simple (for me anyway) with just a frame I pulled from rawpixel. It suits the story, though, being set sometime around or before the early 20th century. I also played with text colors on the title page, with some words being grayed out to mimic the effect on the cover. The section break is me getting clever with a feature of my printer. I often use a gray line to denote section breaks, but for whatever reason my printer doesn't like them and often makes them blurry. It is only these lines that come out blurry; larger images don't do this even if they are complex. So for this one, where a major feature of the story is trying to figure out what's real and what's a supernatural occurrence, I made one that was deliberately heavier in the center so it would come out sort of smoky or fuzzy, like it wasn't quite real and couldn't be clearly seen. It doesn't look this fuzzy in the unprinted file but I love the effect and I feel very clever for manipulating the printer like this.
I'm going to show off some interior shots but this bit contains spoilers for the story, so if you don't want to see that then maybe skip the rest of the post.
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I wanted to get creative with my title placement since a lot of my binds look very similar inside, and this concept really let me try that out. The plot of the story is that the reason there are so many supernatural phenomena at this lighthouse is that someone in the future ran an experiment to harvest energy and accidentally cracked spacetime with it, and bits of the future and the past and the might-have-been are seeping through the cracks, and the longer the cracks exist the more seeps through them and the worse the ghostly stuff gets. At first it's not clear whether there's anything weird happening at all, and it becomes clearer that something is wrong the further in you get because the cracks are worse. So I had this idea for a vintage lighthouse illustration with an overlay of cracks in glass, that become more defined as the story progresses until something is done and they're sealed up in the end. I am not a visual artist and even this straightforward concept was too much for my skills, so I chose the lighthouse and the crack overlay and my amazing husband did the actual image manipulation. There are five different images, with the cracks invisible in the first and final chapter and most visible in chapter 10 and 11, when the characters are trying hardest to fix the problem. I'm really really proud of how well this turned out.
And that's it! I have several more binderary books to post but they are all still waiting for titles before I do the photos, so I don't know when I'll have them up.
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generaterandom · 2 months
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The noble Miss Olive surveying her domain
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Reference image under the cut, ID in alt
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Julia said “stop everything and look at my cat” and so I went a step further and drew her.
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