Welcome to chaos Header Is Current Hyperfixation 18+ Only!
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That-one-rat-in-the-cupboard - I_am_the_Rat - Tumblr Blog
@one-time-i-dreamt
idea: immensely powerful nigh-incomprehensible god that interacts with humanity purely thru social media
hot artists don't gatekeep
I've been resource gathering for YEARS so now I am going to share my dragons hoard
Floorplanner. Design and furnish a house for you to use for having a consistent background in your comic or anything! Free, you need an account, easy to use, and you can save multiple houses.
Comparing Heights. Input the heights of characters to see what the different is between them. Great for keeping consistency. Free.
Magma. Draw online with friends in real time. Great for practice or hanging out. Free, paid plan available, account preferred.
Smithsonian Open Access. Loads of free images. Free.
SketchDaily. Lots of pose references, massive library, is set on a timer so you can practice quick figure drawing. Free.
SculptGL. A sculpting tool which I am yet to master, but you should be able to make whatever 3d object you like with it. free.
Pexels. Free stock images. And the search engine is actually pretty good at pulling up what you want.
Figurosity. Great pose references, diverse body types, lots of "how to draw" videos directly on the site, the models are 3d and you can rotate the angle, but you can't make custom poses or edit body proportions. Free, account option, paid plans available.
Line of Action. More drawing references, this one also has a focus on expressions, hands/feet, animals, landscapes. Free.
Animal Photo. You pose a 3d skull model and select an animal species, and they give you a bunch of photo references for that animal at that angle. Super handy. Free.
Height Weight Chart. You ever see an OC listed as having a certain weight but then they look Wildly different than the number suggests? Well here's a site to avoid that! It shows real people at different weights and heights to give you a better idea of what these abstract numbers all look like. Free to use.
In Wisconsin it's legal to give kids 7 and up alcohol if the parents buys and gives it to them.
I only learned recently that people from Not America don’t specify hard cider and instead it’s just cider.
I know this is a small difference but it is surprisingly one I do sometimes have to lie down on the floor about.
Pin for survivors
My 'hear me out' is the Pythagorean theorem.
hastily slapped this together in a few seconds
How to show emotions
Part IV
How to show bitterness
tightness around their eyes
pinched mouth
sour expression on their face
crossed arms
snorting angrily
turning their eyes upward
shaking their head
How to show hysteria
fast breathing
chest heaving
trembling of their hands
weak knees, giving in
tears flowing down their face uncontrollably
laughing while crying
not being able to stand still
How to show awe
tension leaving their body
shoulders dropping
standing still
opening mouth
slack jaw
not being able to speak correctly
slowed down breathing
wide eyes open
softening their gaze
staring unabashingly
How to show shame
vacant stare
looking down
turning their head away
cannot look at another person
putting their head into their hands
shaking their head
How to show being flustered
blushing
looking down
nervous smile
sharp intake of breath
quickening of breath
blinking rapidly
breaking eye contact
trying to busy their hands
playing with their hair
fidgeting with their fingers
opening mouth without speaking
Part I + Part II + Part III
If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰
did i ever post these lol
Pastel Gaster / Fell!Plates Gaster by @zarla-s
more drawings here!
(I will boop everyone who reblogs this post, for the record 💖)
My head hurts and I will not be brave about it
Talk, Don't Speak
I like you. Not in the way two friends like each other, though. No, I like you in the way whales like to sing. I like you in the way the stars like to shine. I like you in the way sea foam likes to border the shore. I like you in the way yeast likes to grow. I like you in the way I like like you…but it feels like you don’t like me the same.
It feels like you like me like a parasite. Feeding off me and keeping me here so you can grow and become stronger. You drain me of my blood, sweat, and tears, yet you keep me nearby. But that’s the problem, you don’t feel like a parasite. You being around fills me with light and warmth, two things I swore I abandoned years ago. Yet here they are, seeping into my lungs and my heart only when you are near. You break down the walls that I’ve built and warmed the cold blade of my heart. Then you left.
It feels like a tincture but you’ve left me bleeding out on the cold wood of your living room floor. It hurts so much that I am compelled to say “Et tu Brute?” But if you were the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden, then I would be Eve, and I wouldn’t take just one bite. I’d devour you whole, unhinge my serpent jaw and swallow your smile, your laugh, your heart…saying it makes me wonder if ‘like’ is even the right word.
…No. It’s not. It never has been, has it? I guess I just never noticed, but we both know I’m just a coward. I speak but I never talk. Can I talk to you one more time?
I’ve avoided saying it for far too long, so I will say it now as my Holy Water tears burn canals into my cheeks and chin…
I love you...no matter how great a sin it may be
Reblog if you think asexuality is a legitimate sexuality.
I'm trying to prove something.
Aight, I can finally post these here because they were Christmas presents.
I made my older sister, best friend, and me trollsonas!
We all watched the third movie seperately and then binge watched them all together at my friend's place. Since I never make art for anyone, I thought it would be fun to turn us into trolls and have the drawings printed out! I also added our nicknames and our favorite music genres! I gave us tails, too because I thought they would look adorable with them.
They both got a single photo of just their troll, and then another photo of the whole group! Thought the people here would like it.
Anyway, here they are!
This is the group drawing <3
This is my sister <3
This is my best friend <3
And this is me! (My hair is bright blue instead of green now, tho) <3
Anyway, I hope you guys like them! Took a while to do, but I love them!
P. S. I have a Fliff (Floyd x Riff) fic I wanna post, so you may see that soon!
Az, signing off ~
Yule blessings and Happy Winter Solstice everyone ❤️
This wonderful person and their FUCKING AMAZING art -> @ohposhers
Inspired me to make my own trolls oc!
Here they are!
Their name is Zephyr and they're a metal troll! (I made all my own lore for metal trolls, including the fact that they're mostly naturally grey, just let me know if anyone wants to hear about it!)
Zephyr was lost as a baby, kinda like Cooper or Viva, and grew up in Pop Village, lived in Volcano Rock City after the events of World Tour, and they're in a relationship with Riff! They both end up with Floyd, too, which I'm writing a lil fic about, but I don't plan to post it unless anyone wants to read it.
Anyway, that's Zephyr! If you wanna hear more of their backstory or wanna see more drawings of them, let me know! Just please bear with me because I also have a full time job, heh.
Az, signing out ~
i am never putting my headset on again
Ok, I'm finally gonna watch the funky circus characters
Everywhere I look, I see him...
Talk, Don't Speak
I like you. Not in the way two friends like each other, though. No, I like you in the way whales like to sing. I like you in the way the stars like to shine. I like you in the way sea foam likes to border the shore. I like you in the way yeast likes to grow. I like you in the way I like like you…but it feels like you don’t like me the same.
It feels like you like me like a parasite. Feeding off me and keeping me here so you can grow and become stronger. You drain me of my blood, sweat, and tears, yet you keep me nearby. But that’s the problem, you don’t feel like a parasite. You being around fills me with light and warmth, two things I swore I abandoned years ago. Yet here they are, seeping into my lungs and my heart only when you are near. You break down the walls that I’ve built and warmed the cold blade of my heart. Then you left.
It feels like a tincture but you’ve left me bleeding out on the cold wood of your living room floor. It hurts so much that I am compelled to say “Et tu Brute?” But if you were the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden, then I would be Eve, and I wouldn’t take just one bite. I’d devour you whole, unhinge my serpent jaw and swallow your smile, your laugh, your heart…saying it makes me wonder if ‘like’ is even the right word.
…No. It’s not. It never has been, has it? I guess I just never noticed, but we both know I’m just a coward. I speak but I never talk. Can I talk to you one more time?
I’ve avoided saying it for far too long, so I will say it now as my Holy Water tears burn canals into my cheeks and chin…
I love you...no matter how great a sin it may be
Warning! Good Omens S2 Spoilers ahead!
I was listening to sad-ish love songs today at work and started piecing together a poem, which I quickly realized could be used for post-S2 Crowley, and then this was born. I really like it and I hope you all do, too! Az is literally just me. I dress like that, Az is my name, the only difference is hair but I'm getting mine done on my birthday the same way story-me has theirs done. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
P.S. I'll be posting the poem on its own right after I post this if you wanna ty and analyze it or something (:
----------------------------------------------------
Talk, Don't Speak.
----------------------------------------------------
The pub was surprisingly packed for a Wednesday night. Nearly every seat was taken and the only reason Crowley had been able to secure a table to himself is largely because of the harsh glares he shot to anyone who dared try to sit with him. It was 7 p.m. when he finally found out why the pub had been so packed; there was a poem reading event tonight. His first thought was that this was something Aziraphale would probably really enjoy attending, maybe even being one of the readers. The thought alone nearly made him leave, but his curiosity won him over. He hadn’t seen anyone recite poetry since around the time Shakespeare was around. So he stayed, and he half-listened to the poets reading their works. None of them caught his attention very well, so he didn’t really bother listening much.
Then someone named Az walked onto the stage. They were dressed simply, but the outfit was still eye-catching. They wore a skin-tight black button-down, a loose white tie, a flowy black skirt that reached around their mid-thigh, white tights, and green high tops with various black sketchy designs drawn on the sides. They had a few piercings on their face and various bracelets lining their forearms. Some were leather, some studded, some were made of thread, and some even had beads woven in. They had a few silver rings along their fingers. Their hair was choppy and reached just past their shoulders, the very front pieces bleached white and the rest dyed black.
What had initially caught Crowley’s attention was the announcer calling the person’s name, as it sounded like he was about to say Aziraphale, but, much to Crowley’s relief, and dismay, it wasn’t Aziraphale, just someone with an odd name. He rested his head back on his arms, fully intent on zoning out and continuing to drown his stomach with wine, but once they started talking, he couldn’t help but listen.
“Hello, everyone!” Az smiled kindly and waved to the crowd, one hand on the mic, “As you heard, my name is Az. I’ve been writing stories since I was a kid and I’ve been writing poetry since high school. Tonight I am going to be reading a recent piece of mine titled ‘Talk, Don’t Speak.”
They took a moment to take a deep breath, likely to calm any nerves they had, and then began to speak.
“I like you. Not in the way two friends like each other, though. No, I like you in the way whales like to sing. I like you in the way the stars like to shine. I like you in the way sea foam likes to border the shore. I like you in the way yeast likes to grow. I like you in the way I like like you…but it feels like you don’t like me the same.
“It feels like you like me like a parasite. Feeding off me and keeping me here so you can grow and become stronger. You drain me of my blood, sweat, and tears, yet you keep me nearby. But that’s the problem, you don’t feel like a parasite. You being around fills me with light and warmth, two things I swore I abandoned years ago. Yet here they are, seeping into my lungs and my heart only when you are near. You break down the walls that I’ve built and warmed the cold blade of my heart. Then you left.
“It feels like a tincture but you’ve left me bleeding out on the cold wood of your living room floor. It hurts so much that I am compelled to say “Et tu Brute?” But if you were the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden, then I would be Eve, and I wouldn’t take just one bite. I’d devour you whole, unhinge my serpent jaw and swallow your smile, your laugh, your heart…saying it makes me wonder if ‘like’ is even the right word.
“…No. It’s not. It never has been, has it? I guess I just never noticed, but we both know I’m just a coward. I speak but I never talk. Can I talk to you one more time?
“I’ve avoided saying it for far too long, so I will say it now as my Holy Water tears burn canals into my cheeks and chin…
“I love you.”
The pub was quiet for a moment before people began snapping in applause. Crowley was frozen. Had this person been stalking him for 6 thousand years or something? Were they some demon or angel in disguise? They didn’t seem like they were…were they psychic? How on earth was their poetry so close to what Crowley had been dealing with lately? After Az took a bow, they exited the stage and the announcer took their place, announcing the next poet. Crowley’s eyes didn’t leave Az, though. He watched as they walked to a booth next to the stage with a few other poets. Az gathered up their coat and their leather bag before bidding farewell and hugging the walls of the pub before leaving. Crowley quickly followed.
They ended up stopping at a bus stop, sitting on the bench and patiently waiting for the next bus. Crowley sauntered over and sat beside her, “That was quite the poem.”
Az smiled softly and looked at him, “Thank you. I’m glad you liked it. Did it resonate with you?”
Crowley scrunched his face up a bit and shrugged, “Eugh, you could say that. Who was the inspiration for it?”
“Hm? Oh, no one.” Az smiled and turned their head back to the road.
Crowley’s eyes widened and he quickly snapped his head to look at them, “What?”
“Yup,” they enunciated the ‘p’ with a pop, “None of my love-based poems are inspired by someone. Well, unless it’s a heartbreak one. Those are usually inspired by someone.”
Crowley sat up a bit more and waved his hand around, the one not holding a half-empty wine bottle, as he spoke, “So, that whole thing, not inspired by anyone? Anyone at all?”
“Nope.” she enunciated the ‘p’ once again.
“Then how did you write it? Got the story from a friend and turned it into a poem?”
“Nope. I listened to sad love songs that aren't super popular. Love songs from people who aren’t famous or well-known or even have a lot of followers. I listen to songs from people who maybe have a few hundred or thousand followers.”
“Why?” Crowley didn’t understand, but he desperately wanted to now.
“Because they’re the people I see every day. They’re the people that aren't rich. They’re struggling with things most other people do. They don’t have a trust fund and sometimes that music is the only thing they have to support them. They’re real. More real than nearly every famous person. I want to write for people who struggle and cry and laugh, and try to thrive when they’re merely surviving. People like me. I take what they say, as well as some of my own experiences, and before long the words are spilling from my fingertips and onto the page.”
Crowley stared at Az for a moment before leaning his head back to rest on the back of the bench, thinking. After a few moments, Az spoke once more, “You said you resonated with my poem, right?”
“Nn..yeh.” Crowly half-shrugged.
“Did you talk to them? Tell them how you felt?”
Crowley sat up, getting ready to leave as he felt deja’vu from his conversation with Nina and Maggie, “Course I did. Told ‘m everything and he left.”
“Did you talk to him, or did you speak.”
Crowley froze for the second time that night, his eyes gazing past his dark glasses and into bright hazel ones. He had spoken. It was unsaid, but they both knew. After a moment, Az turned to her leather bag and began to undo the clasps on the front of it, “I want you to have something.”
Crowley didn’t say anything as they pulled out a black, hard-cover book. Crowley’s immediate reaction was to say he didn’t read, but something ineffable convinced him to keep quiet, so he did. Az then held the book out to him, “You don’t have to read it, you don’t even have to open it. Hell, you can chuck it in the trash for all I care, but at least take it.”
Crowley saw from over Az’s shoulder that the bus was just rounding the corner. He hesitated, but they kept the book held out to him. He looked back into them and with how intently they were looking at him he could have sworn they were looking right through his glasses. Just as the bus parked in front of the stop and opened its doors, he snatched the book. Az smiled despite it and boarded the bus without another word.
— — — — — —
Rain pelted against the hood of the Bently, it being the only sound to accompany the intoxicated demon. His head was resting on the handle of the steering wheel, staring at the black book in his passenger seat. The back was facing up, and it only had a short sentence printed in white ink that read;
“Sincerely,
Az R. A.
<>”
Crowley hadn’t touched the book since Az gave it to him over a week ago. It had sat in his passenger seat since then, collecting dust. He had debated throwing it out several times, but something in him refused to let him toss it. Finally, he decided tonight was the night he would at least read the title and open it. So he grabbed it, wiped off the little dust on it, and read the cover that was printed in the same white ink;
Az’s
Total and Complete Collection of
Love, Heartbreak, and Everything in Between:
A Guide.
Crowley huffed out a breath and flipped it open to the first page. On it was a short, hand-written note;
“To whomever I have given his book to, I hope it helps you. I wish you the best, and I hope the contents of this book provide you the words you need to Talk.
-Az R. A.
<>”
There was a date in the top right corner of the page. The note was from 2020. Crowley wanted to think about it for a moment, but that nagging feeling in him convinced him to keep going. To keep reading. So he did. There were poems about love heartbreak, and everything in between, just as Az had promised in their title. The book wasn’t long, but it was packed full of metaphors, clever lines, euphemisms, and most importantly…emotion. The last poem ended in the middle of the page with three dots, the right page completely blank, but the poem didn’t seem to be over. Hesitantly, though he didn’t know why he was, he turned the page to read the final line;
“In the end, this isn’t a guide. It is a mere suggestion.”
I moved to a different state so this is really overdue, but Day 8.
WARNING! SPOILERS FOR GOOD OMENS SEASON 2!
I feel like I need to reiterate AND go into further detail on my post:
The song Church by Fall Out Boy is just Crowley thinking about Aziraphale.
Let's start with the reiteration bit.
The song Church by Fall Out Boy, can go both ways.
It could be Crowley thinking about Aziraphale OR Aziraphale thinking about Crowley. This is probably gonna be a long post because I'm also gonna be adding lyrics for anyone who hasn't heard the song.
I'll start with why it works for Aziraphale thinking about Crowley.
If you were church, I'd get on my knees
Confess my love, I'd know where to be
My sanctuary, you're holy to me
I'm gonna focus on the last line. Throughout Good Omens, we hear Aziraphale try to tell Crowley he's nice, but Crowley always says he's not nice because he's a demon, not an angel like he used to be. Aziraphale being insistent on Crowley being good, and being happy about being able to turn him back into an angel, makes me think Aziraphale never really stopped thinking of Crowley as an angel. He never stopped thinking of him as something holy.
And take the pain
Make it billboard big then swallow it for me
Crowley can turn into a snake, as we saw in season 1 in the garden of Eden. And as we all know, snakes can unhinge their jaw to eat larger prey. I think the pain Aziraphale could be referring to here is the pain he's been given by Heaven. As Crowley said, "We don't need Heaven, we don't need Hell! They're toxic!"
Time-capsule for the future
Trust me, that's what I will be
Oh, the things that you do in the name of what you love
Once again, I'll be focusing mainly on the last line. Aziraphale puts himself into danger and Sometimes keeps himself in danger because it makes Crowley happy to rescue him.
You were doomed but just enough
Crowley was cast out from Heaven because he questioned things. Maybe if he had asked one less question he would still be an angel.
Got a few more fake friends
And it's getting hard to know what's real
I imagine these lines would be after Aziraphale went back to Heaven, but eventually realises that he's made a mistake. Now he's torn between what he's believed his whole life with Heaven, and going back to Crowley to take back what he lost at the end of season 2.
Now I'm going to do the same thing for Crowley!
If you were church, I'd get on my knees
Confess my love, I'd know where to be
Crowley, a fucking demon, had already gone into a church once to save Aziraphale, knowing full well it was going to hurt. That alone was practically him confessing his love to Aziraphale. What difference would it be if Aziraphale was the church?
Time-capsule for the future
Trust me, that's what I will be
Aziraphale wanted to turn him back into an angel so he could come with him to Heaven, to change Heaven. As we can all probably assume, Heaven is definitely going to change in season 3.
Oh, the things that you do in the name of what you love
Crowley ran into a burning bookshop because he thought Aziraphale was still in there. He was willing to fire a gun at Aziraphale knowing full well that it could kill him. He mircaled away the stain on Aziraphale's coat after he got shot with a paintball. He went to Heaven to find out what the hell was going on so he could keep Aziraphale safe. He even put himself in direct harm's way to stop a war that would force him to fight the love of his life. TWICE!
There's probably more I could get out of the song but I'm probably missing some. Feel free to reblog and add your own thoughts, too! And also listen to the song! I didn't include all the lyrics but it is an amazing song!
Most of the Good Omens background music is just the opening theme in different fonts.
WARNING! Potential Good Omens spoilers!
I made a Good Omens scarf!
The snake is for Crowley and the halo is for Aziraphale!
I crocheted it and it took about 40 hours over the course of a week!
