You come to my blog and dont kiss me? You dont cradle my face in your hands with heartbeaking tenderness and swear your love for me? Jail! Jail for tumblr user for 1000 years!!!!
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You could say I am going back to my roots! One of the first digital artworks I’ve ever made were fanarts for a fic “Hoops, String, and other Placebos” by BubbleBtch on Ao3. I think some of it is still among my most popular works lol.
Now with silksong having been recently released from the purgatory of development, a continuation of the fic also came out! Come all ye Faithful
I can’t wait to see how Mary’s presence will affect the events in Pharloom, and in the meantime, I made another fanart to show my appreciation to the author. If you’re a Hollowknight, or Silksong, fan, I highly reccomend you give both of these a read. They are a rare gem among internet works. Seriously good stuff
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This illustrations are mostly about me wrapping my head around BAS fashion, with Storyteller specifically
Belief And String illustrations - the covers/ hoops/ ticks/ clothes/ catchers/ extra (bsky)
@fattyskeleton
Design yapping under the cut, feel free to skip
KHM- -
Length
The thing can't be too long or you will fucking suffer while walking in it. It means that when you'll put your hands too high - you will inevitably show some amount of legs. But shadows and the dim light can help you to hide them more or less
Sleeves
Since they can't be sewed I thought of two options - custom woven fabric tubes and long sheet of fabric held by the pins. I used both. In the royal places the fabric is too thin, Storyteller has to layer or request thicker material.
Pins & Brooches
Canonically the pins usually just pins and not full brooches. But! Even if we don't care about half the ergonomics anymore - the furniture still has to be fixated on the clothes to not unexpectedly ✨disappear✨ because you were moving too much (or at all). Does it shows that I'm also a jewelry student?
hornet thinks that by refusing ascension and living with mortal bugs she is refusing the divinity her father represented but she doesn't realize that he too shed his larger form to be closer to the ground
One of my favorite Hollow Knight Fanfic takes that interpretation. While a lot of the Fandom and the Lore likes to lay the blame of the radiance at the Pale Kings feet, I love the idea that he wasn’t an arrogant god whose hubris led to the fall of his kingdom.
He was just a bug. A god bug but just a bug. And he took on the stress, pain and panic of trying to save his kingdom from the radiance, going as far enough as to try and sacrificed his own spawn to the void in the hopes that they could save his people.
Yes he led to the fall of the kingdom, but he also tried to build up the kingdom for the people. The tram to safety transport across the land, politics and treaties with Hera down in deep nest.
His people built statues of him, not because he demanded hit, but because for an age, he and his wife tried to make things better.
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That's it!
We've reached the end of Chapter 2!
It seemed so fast, even though it paradoxically took 3 or 4 years to get to the end. I have no regrets and I'm happy to have finished the project, and even gone a little further.
Originally, I only planned to write the first chapter, and I created a bonus intro to Chapter 2, based on my own interpretation of the original author BubbleBtch's vision. For now, I don't plan to start Chapter 3.
Although I enjoyed the experience, I'll unfortunately never have the time to draw even a third of this fanfiction, haha. Beyond the enriching experience, it's also about honoring a work that I greatly appreciate and wanted to share, even if only with a few people.
I hope I've been able to stay true to the story and the characters as best I can.
Thank you, dear reader, for your patience during these very long breaks and development periods. Thank you also for your encouragement. You helped push me to the finish line!
Thank you, and I hope you enjoy this final part. As for what follows, I have concept art in preparation for this universe, suggested by some readers. It's a way of making up for the previous post, which was tampered with, and also just to give you a little something extra.
After all that, I'm trying my hand at writing, a fanfiction set in a completely different universe. I'm certainly not a good writer, but it's a nice change and a new experience.
I honestly don't know if I'll ever dare to post. But who knows, maybe one day I'll take the plunge.
It's ridiculous, I know, but it's actually quite frightening to expose your own ideas to everyone. It's so much easier to read/view other people's works/art silently.
It takes a lot of courage for me because I'm actually quite shy by nature.
This fan webcomic was something I hesitated to post at first, afraid to take the plunge. But in the end, it was a wonderful experience. I think I might be starting to repeat my apologies a bit.
Anyway, enjoy it and let's see what the future holds!
Bratty AI fucks around and finds out when you ragebait a Dad enough, more on the news at 11.
Fanart for a REALLY good Caine centric fic called Small Gods. This convo in chapter 7 is SO good, like I could genuinely see this happening in the show! its by @crimes-wears-goggles so go show some love to her and her fic!
I gonna do the second half of this convo too just cause I'd hate to leave it here :)
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I'M!!?!?!? I!?@!?!
So reeeaaallll talk this is my favorite scene I've written and I had a lot of very specific blocking in mind for it. I couldn't really describe all of it because, you know, this is prose and not a script.
You did in fact hit all the motions I was picturing and the expressions on everything that I was imagining!!! I'm over the moon!!!!!! THANK YOU OH MY GODDFGJGDHESRHEU
I'm gonna ramble a lot more below sorrrryyyyy and the rambles may be a little messy because I'm having to switch to speech to text currently for chronic illness problems.
OKAY so!
First of all, I'm sure this is obvious. You're clearly someone who is very skilled, but the way that these panels all flow to each other directionally is really impressive. I'm a huge fan of how Kane's expression in the first panel really leads into Kinger's motion in the second one.
Also, the way you get so much of Kane's emotions just by adding that little bit of shading is so fucking cool! His initial expression in panel one is exactly what I was picturing, his hand pressed to his chest and all. And then Kinger's reaction is also exactly how I was expecting this to go.
Insert standard ramble about how fucking good you are at giving expressions to characters that have completely inhuman faces.
Caine's lil face when Kinger finally snaps is so fucking cute. You really captured that feeling of like, "oh no, dad's finally mad at me" which is what I was going for.
I really like the directional flow from, "You are the one who keeps forcing my hand," into the baiting line. Like, you get so much of Kinger being pissed just from how you draw the curve that's like in his neck and how that connects with his little anguity eyebrow. And then the hand motion on "you've been trying to bait me"? Ah, perfect!
I love the little pullout showing Caine tucked into his little race car bed and Kinger gesturing to the rest of the room. Love how Caine looks genuinely scared and surprised.
And then the way that Kinger's poses all flow together on that panel, just, oh my god, I'm losing my mind about it. Look, I just, I am obsessed with this shot of when Kinger puts his hands together and looks actually angry. It's so good.
I love how you draw the little glitches Caine is going through. Like, it has the same energy as when Ghibli hair poofs up because the characters are experiencing an intense emotion, and it works so well. You really sold the bit of him going from genuine surprise to choosing to finally take up the fight he decided to pick.
Poor guy, when he doubles over at the end of his rant. And I like how even though we're looking at Kinger from behind, I do get the impression that he's concerned by this in his body language? It's just very neat.
God, the panel of Kinger looking down at Caine and asking if he's hurt, and you can tell he is just so fucking done with this situation. And in response, Caine's reaction—oh my God, that face drives me absolutely wild. And the way you actually did show his fingers digging into his arms and clipping, like I'd written down. aaaaaaaaaa I love it so much!
The way that you emphasize, Kinger taking that breath before really getting into the fucking lecture is just real good.
I am in love with Caine's little like flinch when he tries to make the excuse of this being Kinger's code's fault and not his. The little like quirk of his upper jaw "eyebrows" and the way that little bit of shading in the interior part of the lower jaw really emphasizes this expression. Just love that.
And it's great because then after Kinger really gets into it, you can see how his words are pretty much immediately wrecking Caine's defenses here. The way Caine immediately goes from like angry and defensive to more sad kicked puppy.
HOOOOOOO the panel where Kinger mentions the mind files and you include that beat of him catching on the thought and having to take a moment before he says the next part does such a good job of emphasizing the thing.
AAAAA which does indeed result in the next panel of Caine really genuinely looking like a kicked puppy. And I like that you included the little glitches to help emphasize that this is causing a lot of emotion for him, because, you know, it is!
GOD the last panel thank you so muuuuch. This hits the exact gravity of the phrase I was going for, and the shading does so fucking much. And the way having the shot be from a little below Kinger really emphasizes how heavy it is. And then the way it contrasts with Caine looking down and how he shrinks. The perspective is really good. The perspective is doing a lot of work here, and I'm a big fan.
Anyway, this is all to say, I'm extremely flattered and over the moon, and will probably be gushing about this for the rest of my life, lol.
Thank you so much for caring about my thing enough to do something so cool, it's an honor!
Ilya gets over his nicotine addiction no problem, but what he really can’t let go of is his addiction to cigarettes making him look cool as hell, and like five years into their marriage Shane finds Ilya “chain smoking” candy cigarettes in their backyard at 3am like a fucking animal and Shane just goes “…I feel like this is actually worse somehow.”
i like when fiction treats love as a more complicated force and not something that is inherently pure or redemptive. portray it as flawed and complex as any other human impulse. give me love as prejudice, love as possessive stasis, love as addiction, love as blindness, etc.
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I don’t have a full fledged fic in me, but if you do please take it and run
“Is this Shane?”
The first thing he notices is the blinding light pouring in from the windows across the bedroom. Clearly he forgot to pull the curtains shut when finally stumbled home at 2 a.m. 3 a.m.? Was the sun out yet?
He doesn’t know.
The second thing he notices is the incessant pinging of the text tone on his phone.
He glances at the time, 8:45 a.m.
Jesus.
What could his friends possibly be so worked up over so early in the morning?
He swats at his nightstand and fumbles for his phone. Fully prepared to throw their aptly named “bros n hoes” group chat on Do Not Disturb.
But it’s not the group chat at all actually.
Well, a few messages are. There’s one from Wyatt around 4 a.m. making sure everyone made it home safe.
Ilya’d loved the message even though he doesn’t remember seeing it.
There are a few others of Troy looking for his wallet and Sveta complaining about the shitty vodka the bar had available.
The rest though, are all from unknown numbers.
Dozens of them. All some iteration of the same thing.
“Hey! This is so and so from the bar!”
Or
“Hey handsome ;) remember me?”
Which, no he doesn’t.
Or
“Last night was fun. Drinks again soon?”
Even a few that just say, “Hey.”
And Jesus how many people had he given his number to? How many had Sveta?
Doesn’t matter.
He knows he talked to so many people last night but not one stands out in his memory after the last.
About an hour before they’d planned to leave and about fifteen minutes after he’d ordered what was supposed to be his last drink he’d all but run into a sweet boy with sweeter freckles and a pretty pink blush that dusted the tops of his cheeks.
Every person he’d met, maybe even seen, the rest of the night faded into obscurity.
Shane.
Sweetheart.
Ilya’s never really been one for love at first sight. Lust maybe. Definitely, if he’s honest.
But if he were physically capable of having cartoon hearts for eyes Ilya’s sure he would be putting Cupid to shame.
He and Shane had talked for hours. Long after all his friends had left but somehow not long enough.
The boy was a sweetheart. A little shy. A lot smart. Ridiculously funny but so, so dry. Ilya could tell he wasn’t aiming for funny, he just was.
He could’ve spent the rest of his days right there on that barstool watching pretty brown eyes roll at his bad jokes, and pretty cheeks pink at his good ones.
When Shane had started yawning Ilya had first teased him for it. But after learning of Shane’s strict sleep schedule and just how far gone it was in the name of talking to him, Ilya tugged him by the wrist out the front door. Told him his pretty face needed beauty sleep. He’d given Shane his number, his own phone in desperate need of a charger, and hoped he’d hear from him by the time he’d made it to his own apartment.
Scrolling through the influx of messages he’d awoken to, it appears he has not.
Ilya’s heart sinks the tiniest bit. The thing is, he is a man on a mission.
He weeds out all of the numbers that included names. Doesn’t even bother to respond.
He sifts through the ones that are overtly flirty, sexy, hinting at any kind of innuendo. His Shane would never.
With the remaining eight or nine numbers with generic enough texts, he sends the same text.
“Is this Shane?”
He finally gathers the strength to get out of bed and go get some food. The Russian perk of no hangover does not also equal not wanting to eat his body weight in grease after a night out.
As he settles into the kitchen, picking through the groceries left in his fridge, the responses begin to roll in.
“No, this is Brooke.”
And
“Who?”
And
“Damn. No, but call me if you don’t hear from him.”
And even one that said,
“Would my chances be better if i said yes?”
He rolls his eyes and slides his phone across the countertop.
By the time he’s finished his breakfast and settled himself on the couch for what will surely be a moderate to okay lazy day, he’s resigned himself to the fact that maybe Shane wasn’t feeling him the way he thought. Maybe he chickened out. Maybe, after one too many vodka shots, Ilya’d given him the wrong number.
He’d given the right one to approximately forty other people though it would seem so he doubts it’s that.
Whatever the reason, Ilya is perfectly content to go back to the bar night after night in hopes of running into him again.
He’s scrolling through today’s top movies when he gets one last message. It’s from the last number that he still hadn’t heard from.
A response to his question of “Is this Shane?”
A simple, “Yes.”
And Ilya’s heart threatens to beat clear out of his chest.
“Shane and Ilya get a call in the dead of the night, right before Shane’s supposed to go into the finals.” OH and OF COURSE there’s only one bed wherever Canada tucked them away for safety. <3 make them suffer <3
There is very much only one bed. Shane and Ilya are living the consequences of making their story “we are in such passionate gay love that we will kill ourselves over it.” No one thinks those guys are sleeping in separate beds. And also Shane does not trust them to not boot Ilya out onto the street or hand him over to Russian officials while Shane is asleep and unable to punch cops. He is boiling in his own stress right now because his only play is very much “if you do not help my boyfriend right now I will make sure I get killed on foreign soil which means YOU have to go back and face the Canadian public as the people who got Shane Hollander killed on foreign soil” and hoping they are more afraid of that than. Putin. So he’s initially worried they’ll just sort of dump Ilya if he’s not physically there to cause them problems. And Ilya is no goddamn help because that fucker will absolutely let himself be taken quietly while Shane is asleep in another room because he doesn’t want Shane Hollander dying for him in Russia. They are sharing a room and the bed is small.
And there is only going to be one bed for a while. Again, they are not getting off this train. Every single time they are at the same event—All Stars, Boston v. Montreal Games, the NHL awards, Christmas at the White House because they’re low key in the same social circle as the Obamas now—they’re going to be sharing a room. People are going to assume they want to stay together from now on, and if it leaks that they’re choosing to sleep separately, they’re going to have to deal with a front page headline reading TROUBLE IN PARADISE: GAY COUPLE THAT EXPECTED ENTIRE WORLD TO HELP THEM BE TOGETHER CHOOSES NOT TO BE TOGETHER DURING ONE OF THE FIVE DAYS THEY WORK IN THE SAME CITY. Like it. It’d be a mess. They’re going to have to deal with there only being one bed while they figure things out
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