EATS - Blog Posts

I actually have a very strong artblock that makes me want to howl and climb the walls or just die idk, I hate absolutely everything I do 😵‍💫

If Tumblr destroys my account again I think I'll just ascend to heaven

back to drawing nyen again

@brenda-miller-forreal who team u on????????

you and @ken-okamoto-official need to battle for @brenda-miller-forreal

WHAT?? since when have i been battling ken?! hmm… i see. well a battles a battle bring it on

Art by Tung T. Tran

little animating practice with mikey :]

Halloween Peri😈💚🎃

I painted this piece in 2021.

Lapis drawing :D

(how are other people able to draw her so well, this was a struggle 😭)

got an mp3 player for ww songs!!

(lmk if anyone wants any of the files btw i downloaded as many ww songs as i could find)

Outing myself as an Aaron simp, have this Aaron fanart as my apology

GUH- THIS IS SO GOOD- IM GONNA EATT, YOU ARE SO AMAZING AT ART *nom* /VVVVPOS

saw this tonight and wanted to recreate it a bit, hope y'all like this :P

Daisies for my darling 🌼💐

READ THIS NEEEOOWWWW

Lunch date.

Printer issues, ur here, Flower Shop, The Stranger- Pt2, Pt3, pt.4, Spider in the Dark, Two is better than One, next part?

Sasha rubbed her eyes. The light glow of the computer was beginning to blur together. She had spent most of the afternoon listening to Tim complain to Martin about Jon and for Martin to, not that she was surprised, back Jon up to a nauseating degree. She was trying to track the location of the original Breekon and Hope delivery service since they dropped off an odd antique desk as well as a lighter. Her attempts seemed to be in vain other than a few news articles and the statements Jon had given her.

"Oh come on Martin, just admit he's a little insane."

"Christ Tim! He's tired and stressed, we have bloody worms crawling around outside. Cut him some slack!"

Sasha sighed and stood up, passing her fellow assistants. She would try the library, maybe if she could find some documents or even a newspaper or something. Anything to get away from their bickering and out of the mocking glow of her computer.

The actual library was used mainly by the students and such. The only part of the Institute that had any credibility left. It was mostly empty this time of day. Sasha took a corridor down into the 'public records' section, passing a yellow door that made her pause.

Has it always been there? It was a tacky color for such a bland colorless hallway. Sasha didn't have the brainpower to pay it any mind, instead finding the bookshelf with company logs. She managed to actually locate the documents that mapped out the original building used for the service and even tracked down the records for the service vehicles. But in relation to where it was and what happened to it, that information was foggy.

Sasha hummed and passed another aisle to look through records about shipments, passing yet another yellow door. She paused in front of it and frowned. Was there always a door there?

Ah. Right. She should have expected sooner.

Nonetheless, Sasha ignored it and continued on. The silence was starting to get to her, she opened the third directory, trying to desperately track a shipment that Breekon and Hope supposedly sent out. It ended up going across the sea from a ship she suspected to be Lukas's, but after that the record is simply blank.

She was able to figure out a few residents that had gotten deliveries so it wasn't a complete fail. Of course Sasha had to wonder how many of those people weren't missing or passed away by now but that was a worry for a different day. For now she was content to have the scowling lady at the desk fax over the newspaper clippings as well as deliver the bundle of shipment catalogs down to Jon's office. She felt satisfied enough to ignore the yellow door she passed on her way out of the Institute and towards her usual spot for coffee.

Sasha ordered her usual and a slice of toffee pudding before she took a seat by the window and watched the cars go by.

"Is this seat taken?"

Her gaze snapped up towards the familiar voice, recognizing him instantly by the cacophony of colors in his coat and the spotted scarf that didn't seem to sit correctly over his shoulder. Micheal stood lax in front of her, his hands hidden in his coat pockets and his blonde hair washing over his back and curling in on itself over the side of his face.

"Not at all." She responded, watching him blur into the chair in front of her. He rested his chin in his palm, a giddy smile shifting and warping like tree leaves in a breeze.

"This place is quite more to my liking than your place that watches." He hummed, looking somewhere past her.

"I agree."

"Tell me, assist-" Micheal chuckled and looked at her, "-excuse me, Sasha" he amended, "Why not leave for someplace more like this?"

She shrugged and took a sip of her drink. "I like working at the archives."

"Right. That ugly place isn't worth what the crawling rot gives it credit for."

Sasha frowned slightly and shook her head, "the crawling- what?!"

Micheal laughed in response. The sound was starting to lose its sting in her ears.

"Whaaaat," His smile spread with every word like pulled taffy. "My dear you truly have no clue about the happening around your Institute."

She rolled her eyes. "Well you've been a massive help."

He just laughed again. "The ceaseless watcher doesn't like me, my Dear, but that doesn't mean I cannot intervene."

Sasha didn't have the patience to wonder what the hell he was referring to. "I think you just like freaking Jon out."

Micheal's grin twisted over his features and shifted as he moved to lean back, his hair flickering out into nothing before moving out again as normal. "Yes, confusing the archivist is fun." He looked over his shoulder at nothing in particular before turning back towards her, "but that's not why I've decided to help."

"You have a strange idea of what 'help' is."

He giggled. "Ideas are arbitrary."

"And so is this conversation." Sasha shook off the headache trying to buzz through her ears. "Is it too forward to ask why you are here?"

Micheal giggled again and reached out, his hand covering over hers. "Because, my Dear, you...Confuse me."

Sasha didn't really have a response to that. Instead looking down at where his hand draped over hers. Sharp, boney things that seemed not right to her eyes, but it didn't hurt, and they were quite soft for the illusion of pointed tips. Jon had mentioned that Micheal had referred to himself as the 'throat of delusion' so she shouldn't have been surprised.

But Jon didn't get all the details right. Micheal was certainly dangerous, she wouldn't deny that, and it was clear he probably knew things that might help them, but he wasn't actively trying to set the institute on fire and that was a lot better than the other things they were dealing with currently.

"You stalk people that confuse you?"

"Surely I don't know what you mean." He made a dramatic hand gesture to follow the slight nod and sly grin.

"That was you, in the archives, your door."

"Mayyybe."

"Why?"

"You search for information in the depths of your own understanding, yet you are blind to the truth in front of you."

"Really not an answer, Micheal."

He chuckled. "Entertainment then."

Sasha took another sip of her drink. "How do I confuse you?"

"You ask a lot of questions, my Dear." He stood, his scarf seemingly growing around him as he drew himself up like the fuzz of cotton. The colors dragging in place, slow to reconnect to the places on his coat. "Until next time, Archiv-, Sasha." And he disappeared into the sea of sounds around her.