Okay, So This Is The Most Niche Thing Ever, But My Friend @caywall Is Big Into This Band Named Yardact

Trans visibility day you know what that means

+10 bragging rights

-15 TRANSparency

*laughs to self*

Drawing Mine and @gremlin-numero-uno (my wife) ponysonas :3 (WIP)

Little writing I did of a character I made. He's so pathetic I love him :3

The man was tall now that he was standing straight. Under his chin was filled with stubble, looks like he forgot to shave under there. He had a pencil mustache above his lips. His grin showed teeth a blinding white unusual for his unkempt demeanor. He had a comb over, hiding his quickly fading hair, two devil horns sprouted from his head matching his blood red skin. He wore a black and white Hawaiian shirt with a couple unbuttoned buttons on the top and bottom to give room to his prominent gut. His cargo pants allowed people to see his hairy legs covered in bruises and scabs in the process of healing. He looked like he was going for Gomez Addams, a mafia boss, and retired cop all at once. “Elizabeth, good to see you. Can your uncle give you a hug?” His accent was one of a gruff New Yorkin, that noticeably sounded like he was holding back tears. “Of course.” She opened up her arms and wrapped them around his abdomen including his large and squishy stomach. He wasn’t really her uncle but Lucifer Paradiso was referred to as uncle by all undead creatures. “Hey, have you seen your dad around? I need to talk to him.” His mouth smiled, his eyes did not. “Oh, I um.. No I haven't… sorry…. If you don’t mind me asking, why do you need to see him?” His face showed the aura of grimness behind his fake grin, it always did. “Oh, you know the big G upstairs…” he cleared his throat as he often did before one of his moments. “He told me not to call him that by the way, HA, can you ‘magine. Like sorry for trying to commit divine regicide about a trillion years ago, like I said sorry. Can’t even use a cute little name like ‘big G’” Eli knew rambling was the next stage before the meltdown. Now he just needed to mention Jesus and he would let go of his thin faux mood. “I mean JC never treats me like that. He is very forgiving. Why can’t it be like father like son, am I right….?” 1, 2, 3 “God, Eli” He placed his face in his palms. Tears didn’t leave his eyes but his gruff voice was weak in its affliction. “The reason I need to see your dad is because I’m kind of in debt with mister, God almighty.” His voice was in a mocking tone when he said “God almighty” but his heart clearly wasn’t in it. “Apparently I haven’t been getting enough souls of late. I miss the days of Faust where someone wouldn’t question too hard about selling their eternal soul for limited mortal power and riches. Now everyone is always like ‘why would I give you something infinite for something that lasts only a lifetime.’ Like shut up and just give me your soul, I’m in severe debt and need it more than you.” He kept rambling till Eli’s dad returned to find a sobbing Lucifer Paradiso on his couch with his 16 year old daughter comforting him like a therapist.

That's when you bust out, "word" synonym, on Google

Ok, so @caywall made a fan server for the band yard act, and it got the attention of the band. It has recently become an official server. So now it seems the acknowledgment is complete

Okay, so this is the most niche thing ever, but my friend @caywall is big into this band named Yardact (I also enjoy quite a bit of their songs), and he was curious about any potential connection between them and Chonny. So now this exists in the world. The two other fans of both Chonny and Yardact are freaking out right now.

Finished version somehow looks even better than the wip

Drawing Mine and @gremlin-numero-uno (my wife) ponysonas :3 (WIP)

Shut up, You’re Stupid

Just be my friggin’ man

Jashtober day 3: Power Hour

Four men walked into my bar today. A narcissistic artist, a love drunk apostate, a curiously morbid poet (who I swear was hiding some sort of rodent under his coat), and a lovely looking lad wearing a skirt of the most awe-inspiring colors I had ever gazed upon. The table each ordered their alcoholic drinks (except the love drunk one. Some sort of new found sobriety) and a basket of bread for the whole table, though they barely ate or drank. They were much too busy talking about their lives. Each had a new story to tell and a comment about the other one's tales once it was done being told. I overheard anecdotes about the biography of a rat and unwanted fans to corporate misdoings and the unheard signals to fire lawyers and infernal torment (though it was a much more lovely account then I was used to). They stayed till my bar had to finally close (though, I let them stay longer than I should have because I’d been enjoying eavesdropping on their conversation so much). When they finally did leave, I was a bit saddened. Would such a remix of ideas ever come back into this bar? Perhaps not. And perhaps that’s ok. Each new person brings a new legend with them. From ancient moss to collapsing moons. Perhaps one day I’ll go out and make my own myths, but for now I’m quite enjoying these tall tales of CJ bar.

Ms. Cosine <3. Love the concept

Miss cosine!! New OC ^

Okay bye

Jashtober day 2

The stars speak to me. When I look at them I hear my name. A name that no one knows. My real name. My name was different when I was a little girl. People didn’t even call me a little girl, they called me a little boy. At first I thought they must have been confused, but as I grew, being called by that name seemed to hurt. Every Time I was called handsome I would want to rip out my hair and scream at the tops of my lungs. Why? That was the correct term for me, wasn’t it? When the world seemed to make no sense I would lay on the grass and look at the stars. They always seemed so composed. As if when everything else around me fell into disarray and entropy, they would stay the same. Like an anchor for a boat. As I understood my reality more, the stars were always my safe haven. I could look at them and it’s as if I was sent to a new safer place as I stared. I began to learn why I hated to hate my name. Why I hated being called a boy, because I wasn’t one. Despite their insistence, the world was wrong about me. The realization was exhilarating but horrifying. I knew who I was, but at what cost. The world is seldom kind to those who don’t fit into its preconceptions. I could feel my heartbeat. My breaths clawed out of my chest. Everywhere I looked like it wanted to hurt me. Like an animal ready to pounce. At that moment I looked at the sky and saw the stars. I could hear a word calling down from them. “Astral”, I thought it was a beautiful word. But it wasn’t a word, it was a name. My name. The stars aren’t always out. They are hidden by the oppressive light of the sun. So, whenever I need the support, but they are nowhere to be seen I think of my name. This gift they have afforded me.