Illy

Imagine this: Skinless ghost with rose powers. That’s Illy!

Read more: Illy

Illy’s based on Julia Cotton from Hellraiser and Mark Twain. I prefer the flower vest over the normal vest and tie, it gives her a supernatural element. She looks like a modern and classy villain, wich I’m going for. When she gets angry, she both bleeds and sprouts through the bandages.

aSoSS 50 | Oblivion

I have no clue what’s going on, but these are some of the smartest people on campus, so I wanna stick around.

The Graduate, 12:30PM, 2/8/2025

there is a lyricism in our thought process that cannot be accurately transcribed. in linguistics class they teach you how hard it is to explain the grammar of your native language. our way of thinking is shaped by the words molding our subconscious. if you slice into the brain you will see sheets of flesh–sheets of metal-rippling, wrinkling. the brain is not proof of a deity, just as the goat is not proof of the devil. the others grow pale. they vomit, they always turn away–but i am used to blood.


I’ve been working here since 1987, which means I’m as old as dirt but I don’t remember anything…

Ann Arbor Thrift Shop, 1:30PM, 3/10/2025

it pains me to think that i dragged you down, an anchor dropped in the middle of the ocean. perhaps i must birth a child and continue the cycle–i have wasted my potential on my youth and now it is my responsibility to move forward. to settle. a term used for dust, for sandbanks, for pioneers on conquered lands. a snake of a word, writhing on my tongue. i lick my teeth and purse my lips, like you and your mother and your mother’s mother, a branch of coral crystallizing in the cold. a deep breath–the kind that comes before a deeper lie–and you take the plunge.


When you start digging, you’ll start finding things you never knew. Like even just right down the street from me there’s open writing workshops. I had no idea! It’s in the next block!

Duderstadt Connector, 1:30PM, 3/25/2025

i pick and pick, your face a scar to remind me of the slit, of the risk. of the consequences–it will hurt every time i sneeze, or fall asleep on my side, or draw a sharp breath. the heart is a forgetful organ, though it might insist otherwise. it will pulse frantically at every outline, every shape and figure and song and recipe. like a dog leashed to a pole, wagging its tail at every passerby: hidden underneath, a cry for help, in the only way it knows how. the heart knows nothing except expansion and contraction, so it beats and beats, and cries, and cries. i pick and pick, until there is nothing left.

~Sappy Daze~ Day 21

my childhood dream

i had not realized that growing fruit was a 
possibility until i laid eyes on a potted orange
tree in my parent’s friend’s house i didn’t know
growing plants indoors was possible either i was 
fascinated that trees could come in my size and a 
tree my size could already be producing fruit whenever 
i was dragged to another one of my parent’s friend’s houses 
i would always look around to see if they also had an orange 
tree or if the first tree i ever saw was just a dream

- Sappy

Capturing Campus: In shades of blue

*Content warning: Vulgar language*

Dick around in shades of blue

Blue jeans trimmed at the ankles

Blueberries buoyed in jam

Oceans I’ve never seen

Lakes like paintings

Searching for Moby Dick

Crayons in cornflower and indigo

Blue raspberry Slurpee for two

My brother’s favorite orchids

Blue bunnies on plush pastures

Late night bubble blowing 

Songs with somber melodies

Twitter when it was ours

Blue jays in the park

Beneath a soft sky

The color of her eyes

I tended to pastures

Jammed ankles that sang

Like indigo weather

With melodies like paintings

I’ve seen before 

Orchids were her eyes

Two parked beneath the sky

Blowing wind

I love your shades

Of blue

Lias Design Stuff

Something Traditional! Here are my sketches for Lias, both original mode, supermode, and unhinged supermode. You can see me figuring out their hair, bolide logo, and “fat tie” in the first picture. The second pic has me figuring out his supermode outfit, with the black markings and corset-thing. As well as what the unhinged, monster version should look like, all stretched out and dark.

aSoSS 49 | Clover

Stay away!

If you’re with the car I’m not gonna ticket it, so I guess you just wanna wait here?

Kelsey Museum of Archaeology, 4:00PM, 3/13/2025

a dangerous thought is the deadliest parasite–once a thought is born, there is no way to kill it; you must live with it, nurture it, grapple with the fact that it came from your own conscience. i used to think the act of forgetting would erase these thoughts from existence, like a child who covers his face in hide-and-seek and declares himself the winner. despite everything, i still believe it’s true: when the time comes, my words will be turned into dust, a trajectory parallel to an event horizon. my last breath will be my first on the other side, a complete unknown, a land where flowers bloom crystals and spiders spin sentences into silk.


I will say, frozen peas, eating them frozen, I don’t know what it is but it just makes it taste better.

West Medical Center, 4:00PM. 2/25/2025

what a terrible curse it is to wield logic in the face of love! to fall back on probability, the ifs and the buts, is to live a fearful life. trust the hand of fate and walk through the veil with confidence. the absolutes overrule the ambivalence: you sit there, petals falling–love me, love me not, love me–each one the product of a hundred bad decisions. tell me, who was there at your lowest? the light and the darkness, in that order. when the sun sets do not forget the pull of the moon on the tides, on the stars, on your soul.


You have to come with me to my physics exam tomorrow… you’re luck, you’re very good luck.

Chem Building, 11:00PM, 3/12/2025

a scent later and i am back in your room and watching the cartoons on the television. a breath later and i am watching your chest rise and fall as you sleep–gentle and graceful, the way a lily leans into sunlight–wanting nothing more than to burrow into the crook of your arm. the water does not heat, the window is missing a tile, the stairs creak in their sleep–this is a misfortune that we must endure. the reward? with your lips on mine, you convince me that luck is a zero-sum game.