Happy Semi-canon Day I Always Win

I'm so indecisive about choosing one color palette but Goodnight, last post of the night!

I had dropped art for a month to regain back the joy of creating art because i felt like art had become more a chore than a hobby, Now I'm back on drawing and it feels so awesome, i look forward to designing the lifers

Nothing like Dream being an absolute moron on Twitter to have every ex-dsmp fan woken up from hibernation

doodles from last night. I hate him he's the worst

39 books to read if you liked ARCANE

CAITVI SHIPPERS –

1. a study in scarlet women by sherry thomas 2. the lady's guide to petticoats and piracy by mackenzi lee 3. plain bad heroines by emily m. danforth 4. the unbroken by c.l. clark 5. iron widow by xiran jay zhao 6. crier's war by nina varela 7. the drowning empire trilogy by andrea stweart 8. the priory of the orange tree by samantha shannon 9. the midnight lie by marie rutkoski 10. the bone shard daughter by andrea stewart

JAYVIK SHIPPERS –

1. vicious by v.e. schwab 2. if we were villains by m.l. rio 3. the secret history by donna tartt 4. the song of achilles by madeline miller 5. the picture of dorian gray by oscar wilde 6. a marvelous light by freya marske 7. the magpie lord by kj charles 8. fever syndrome by angela slatter 9. the gloaming by rory power 10. boys, beasts & men by sam j. miller

TIMEBOMB SHIPPERS –

1. six of crows by leigh bardugo 2. war girls by tochi onyebuchi 3. this savage song by victoria schwab 4. the knife of never letting go by patrick ness

JINX & VI'S RELATIONSHIP –

1. we hunt the flame by hafsah faizal 2. girls of paper and fire by natasha ngan 3. the ones we're meant to find by joan he 4. burn our bodies down by rory power 5. sawkill girls by claire legrand

GENERAL ARCANE VIBES –

1. the aeronaut's windlass by jim butcher 2. foundryside by robert jackson bennett 3. gunmetal gods by zamil akhtar 4. cyberpunk: neuromancer by william gibson 5. frostheart by jamie littler 6. the broken earth trilogy by n.k. jemisin 7. black sun by rebecca roanhorse 8. rebel seoul by axie oh 9. we ride the storm by devin madson 10. the drowned cities by paolo bacigalupi

Woot woot! All aboard the Gravity Falls AU train!! So, yeah. I've fallen victim to the recent resurgance of Gravity Falls, and i'm not even mad. This is my first fic on AO3, and i'm really excited to see what y'all have to say! Here's a part I very much enjoy from the first chapter: "Gravity Falls was a sleepy little town nestled in the woods of Oregon. Ford knew that going in, pouring over books, and connecting traced anomalies all the way to this backwoods town. It surprised him, really, that while it was lacking in people, there was never a shortage of secrets.

The loneliness, though, he couldn’t have prepared for. While he hadn’t lived with his parents since before his college days, there was always someone in his room. Whether that be Fiddleford, Stan, or even Shermie on some nights, there was always a living, breathing person next to him- a continuous source of noise to shut his brain off, to.

Here, there was nothing. Sure, the quiet hum of insects was audible, and the floorboards shifted and the house creaked, but there was no reassurance. No quiet breaths or gentle noises to fill the night. His eyes always move, his brain always produces one thought after the other, and there is no lull of another tired person to stop them." Hope you enjoy!!

something about the idea that c!tommy, at the end of things, dyes his hair pink. He lets it grow out, braids it back once it gets to the point where just throwing a hat on won’t fix it anymore, and one day he looks in the mirror and sees Techno staring back at him. Just for a split second, he’s there in the glass, and it’s like a bolt of lightning, Tommy scrambling through his chests looking for pink dye or flowers or something. The first dye job is atrocious but he keeps trying, keeps mixing red and white and blush pink until he gets that exact damn shade, the one he used to wonder why Techno kept at all. It was a liability, he thought, a bright, recognizable color even in darkness. Now, every two weeks, he sits on a stool in his bathroom and paints his roots and smiles at his brother in the mirror. He wears sweaters, now, too, big baggy ones under great leather overcoats to keep out the rain. And if he pulls that one thread on the cuff of every coat that was always loose on Wilbur’s jackets because he’d scrape his guitar calluses against the hem, then that’s nobody’s business but his own. He keeps a brimmed hat for when he goes into town, something kind and green, to shade his eyes and hide the fact that he hasn’t washed his hair in a few days and the roots are starting to grow out white and gold. He feeds the crows and they whirl and tumble around him like leaves in the wind, though he can’t understand what they chatter to him. He walks with a cane, he sings as he works, he carries the Ax of Peace.

At the end of it, he is the last and best of them all. He is every good part of them, held like a passed torch after they’ve gone away. He is not quite happy yet, but he is getting there. And honestly? He’s the spitting image of Technoblade.

*~ Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You plays quietly in the background. ~*

Day 20 of Sirentober / Doctober

Hands / Journal

You can tell who never made a deal

Available as a print on my Etsy Shop