Left Or Right?

Nick as a Hunter, Frank the Palico and Chuck the Seikret. Don't judge me.

Why does this remind me of Nick Ramos always something random with him. Cute cat

hello! i am crumb cat!

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the look of love (for writers)

"it's all in the eyes i was once told"

catching the stare of someone across a crowded room

subtle furrowing of eyebrows beyond a blank facade

coldness easing into warmth

a fond mothering gaze

corner of the lip nudged upward

forced glower/glare as they break underneath

batting their lashes, playful

a boisterous laugh

intrigue piercing the stoic

proud smugness at the other's success

lingering glances

a childish joy bursting through

pupils dilate

eyelids shut in a look of peace, calm and trust

look of longing/betrayal

"there was once a time when they were mine"

terseness

features fold into a scowl

an urgent flinching back

coldness returns (as though the warmth had never come)

lips part then purse

invasion of shock

slow stare at the floor

the ripple effect of a swallow

frustrated breath/sigh

bitter laugh in reminiscence

dread tearing through the seams of their composure

look of hatred

"darkness"

mean smirk- teeth bared grimace- scowl

dismissive gaze

gaze of contempt/impatience

threat lowering the voice

sardonic goading grins verging on manic

rolling one's eyes

flicker of irritation in the eyes

stares stubbornly ahead despite distraction

gritted teeth, clenched jaw

fierce biting remarks

even measured complexions betraying no thought

strangling oneself back from violence

utter apathy

murderous silence hanging in the stare

snobbish laughter

smiling at another's downfall

Ways I Show a Character is Emotionally Burned Out (Before They Even Realize It Themselves)

I love writing characters who think they’re fine but are actually walking emotional house fires with bad coping mechanisms.

They stop doing the things they used to love and don’t even notice. Their guitar gathers dust. Their favorite podcast becomes background noise. Their hobbies feel like homework now.

They pick the path of least resistance every time, even when it hurts them. No, they don’t want to go to that thing. No, they don’t want to talk to that person. But whatever’s easier. That’s the motto now.

They’re tired but can’t sleep. Or they sleep but wake up more tired. Classic burnout move: lying in bed with their brain racing like a toddler on espresso.

They give other people emotional advice they refuse to take themselves. “You have to set boundaries!” they say—while ignoring 8 texts from someone they should’ve cut off three emotional breakdowns ago.

They cry at something stupidly small. Like spilling soup. Or a dog in a commercial. Or losing their pen. The soup is never just soup.

They say “I’m just tired” like it’s a personality trait now. And not like… emotionally drained to the bone but afraid to admit it out loud.

They ghost people they love, not out of malice, but because even replying feels like too much. Social battery? Absolutely obliterated. Texting back feels like filing taxes.

They stop reacting to big things. Catastrophes get a blank stare. Disasters feel like “just another Tuesday.” The well of feeling is running dry.

They avoid being alone with their own thoughts. Constant noise. TV always on. Music blasting. Because silence = reckoning, and reckoning is terrifying.

They start hoping something will force them to stop. An accident. A missed deadline. Someone else finally telling them, “You need a break.” Because asking for help? Unthinkable.

From our French vacation

Hilde Schmittendorf

I wanted to redesign her character (mostly her outfit) because to me Hilde seems like the type of person to love violence…or even so war, and because there’s already a lust psychopath it would be cool for her character was more focused on just killing people for her entertainment…idk that just my idea for her….

P.S: I was talking to my friend about military goth aesthetic and it reminded me of Hilde, anyways I just really wanted to do a redesign of her…that’s all

Ways I Show a Character Is Falling Apart While Pretending to Be a Perfectionist

Some characters don’t collapse in a blaze of glory. No, they disintegrate politely, with color-coded planners and a frozen smile that says, "Everything’s fine, Susan, stop asking."

They cling even harder to routines. Morning jog, 5 a.m. journaling, bullet-journaling their dog’s bowel movements. Because if they just keep checking boxes, they can pretend nothing’s crumbling underneath.

They hyperfixate on weird tiny details. The report can be on fire, but by god, they will die on the hill of choosing the right font. ("If I find the perfect serif, maybe my life will stop feeling like it's slipping through my fingers!")

They say "I'm just really busy!" like it’s a badge of honor, when it’s actually a giant red flag made out of calendar invites and suppressed emotions.

They can't finish anything anymore. They start 14 different projects, convinced each new thing will "finally get them back on track"…and end up ghosting every single one like a bad Tinder date.

Their compliments to others are laced with self-hate. "You’re so talented, I could never pull that off" they say, smiling while beating themselves bloody on the inside.

They apologize. For everything. Late by two minutes? "I’m so sorry." Sent an email? "Sorry if that’s annoying!" Existing? "Sorry for breathing the same air!"

They're "fine." Always "fine." It's said with the same energy as someone duct-taping a broken chair and inviting you to sit on it.

They self-medicate with "productive" coping. Organizing their spice rack at midnight? Totally normal. Redesigning their resume for no reason while crying into a box of crackers? Absolutely fine. Nothing to see here.

They get defensive about the dumbest things. “Of course I’m okay! Look at my to-do list!” (Sure, babe. Tell that to your bloodshot eyes and the way you just called your boss "Mom" on Zoom.)

Their version of self-care is making another list titled “How to Fix Myself” and then immediately feeling guilty for needing it.