#sam-sepiol

[xxmitsukimoon96xx]

Heys Guys! Check out my friend @sam-sepiol! Shes doing commissions right now and they're not that costly on the dosh!! Shes absolutely incredible and adore her art style to bits! Drop her an inbox if you guys are interested!

[signatureofglory-blog]

@sam-sepiol 'when i get home' makes me wanna get all groovy and strip idek

[art-bit-me]

a stress relief doodle of the queen/conqueror of my heart <333

[fatgoatboi]

KILL IT MOIS IM HOLLERING MOIS IM EMOTIONAL

ily moiz

[itstheguessinggame]

Have you ever seen someone who's younger than you and just absolutely gorgeous and you think ??? I really need to step up my game Bc I do

[heckahecker]

i’m so nervous im going to die but thank you to @sam-sepiol for this great post that inspired me to write something small and @walkerfucker and @playingwithdeath for the Swedish corrections!! i hope you like it !! (also, i’m adding . . ‘s in between paragrpahs so my blog doesn’t create some big wall of text)

Mr Robot spoilers, Elliot/Leon (with side Elliot/Tyrell)

. The suit sits way too close for comfort next to his friend. There’s something off about the stranger’s brand-named white smile - something that hints of worser intentions than he’s letting on. He reminds Leon of those corporate villains in all the underdog films he rented when the Blockbuster was still open down the street. Beside the man, Elliot curls closed in on himself in the booth, hesitating at his plate. Both of their eyes meet across the table, but Elliot averts his gaze within the next second. That’s fine. He expects this kind of behavior. What isn’t rolling with him is the way the shark - prim, proper, disgustingly prestigious - rests a measured hand firm on Elliot’s shoulder and doesn’t relent despite his friend flinching. . .

Leon decides then he doesn’t like Elliot’s new friend. “No offense, man, but you’re the creepiest looking guy I’ve ever met.” He states, slamming the prongs of his fork into the scrambled eggs on his plate with no actual intention of eating. He eyes the stranger with an uneasy glare. In front of him, Elliot’s eyes snap up toward his face, wide and expressive for a split second. . .

The suit pauses considerably before sending him a snide smile. “What was your name again?” He grinds the words out as though being polite is an excruciating punishment. He’s transparent and rude. . .

“Didn’t mention it.” Leon replies, settling back against the stretched, colored vinyl of the diner seat. Where does Elliot befriend these kind of people? Somehow, he can’t picture his friend at some high end business office or partying at a stiff, bland executive celebration. He eyes Elliot with a softer shade of confusion, but his friend stares indefinitely at the table surface. He’s unreadable. . .

The waitress swings by to ensure they’re happy with the breakfast. Once she leaves to serve another table, the stranger shifts in his seat and makes a small, noncommittal noise. His eyes brighten with the kind of pride that makes Leon’s skin crawl. “I’m Tyrell Wellick.” He talks like his name is a title - like it should mean something to Leon. It doesn’t. . .

“It’s nice meeting you, Tyler,” Leon allows himself to revel in the startled, irritated expression Tyrell sends him, “but you seriously need to lay off from my boy. I really don’t appreciate seeing him being tailed by some white guy who can’t take a hint.” It should have been obvious from the moment Elliot sat down with this creep at his heels. His friend barely talks to begin with, but there are distinct cold walls built up this time around. Elliot’s hands tremble, and every wary glance he sends toward Tyrell seems to paint another bag under his eyes. . .

His words leave their mark. It catches the stranger off guard for a solid three seconds, but afterwards, his voice twists into a haughty, condescending tone. “Didn’t realize min älskade was your boy.” His words sharpen and shine like daggers. He smiles. “Vad ger dig rätten? Ligger du med honom?” . .

Whatever this guy is saying, Leon doesn’t like it. He gives Tyrell an absolute withering glare and seriously considers punching that smirk right off his face, but then Elliot catches his eye. His lips, thin and pink and eye-catching, etch into a deep frown and the stress lines around his eyebrows furrow in fear and frustration. “It’s okay.” He says. His voice colors with timid pain, as though he’s either never used his vocal cords in his life or he’s used them too much. “He’s cool.” Cool is not the term Leon would use to describe the shark in a suit across the booth. He doesn’t have to believe Elliot, but there is very little reason not to. He thinks, if he were better at reading people, he might find an excuse to press further that Tyrell is making them both uncomfortable. . .

Unfortunately, Elliot winds his emotions tight under the surface and sifts into a neutral, quiet mask. Leon huffs, “Whatever.” He stabs his eggs again and catches the smug smile on Tyrell’s features. “Watch yourself, white Tyler. I’m keeping my eyes on you.” Although the suit doesn’t seem to heed his warning, Leon means every word. At the local basketball game, Leon sits close enough to Elliot until their knees brush together once or twice, and when Elliot starts to head home with Tyrell in pursuit, Leon stubbornly finds a way to keep up a one-sided conversation while he walks him home. He sends Tyrell a side-eyed scowl as he finally backs off and promises to see Elliot later for dinner.

[notthat-fragile]

@sam-sepiol: "I'm an absolute tit"

[karmahitme]

Click here to support Moira's Education/Career by Heather Buddle

My daughter Moira has spent the last 18 months unable to continue her education, as well as pursue her passion to have a career in animation/storyboarding, due to ongoing health issues - some of them still undiagnosed. Due to her health issues we spend a great deal of time in doctor's offices, em...

My friend Moira, aka sam-sepiol, has been really sick for a long time and her tablet just died. Her art has been improving so much but with a dead tablet and how often she’s in the hospital, she hasn’t been able to spend any time lately working on it. If you could spare even a couple of bucks, I would be incredibly grateful. 

She’s also, as far as I know, a really popular Mr. Robot blogger. So yeah, if you could support her, likely you’d see an increase in creative content from her. 

From Moira: I’m Moira !!! I’m not well enough to have an ID or bank card so [my mom] thought it would be easier to make it for me she really downplayed how sick I am , I’m throwing up once or more every few hours / dizzy spells/ blacking out ,,, I don’t get to see my friends much unless they come to my house , I’ve lost about a year and a half of my life I’m barely able to get around much and drawing is something I love and if you want to see more of my art you can look at the Moira draws tag!!! If you have any questions before donating please don’t hesitate to message me! Thank you so much this means the world to me 

Support Moira, please?