#Fun fact: I had to take a picture of myself to draw this. i am god's cuntiest soldier

[fuj0wuj0]

Would You dare?

AAARHHGN I got a new desk and the setup is killing me, so I had to make a drawing to practice o|<

This is actually a remake of one of Azaroth's first pieces!!

I'm satisfied with the progress~ I finally learned to use references 😇

Old piece for comparison!!

I really like how Azaroth sort of evolved with time. Not to mention that the pose got a little more dynamic~

My lineart and painting style got messier, though. I don't think I mind 😇

[lesbianmontrosepretty]

silly little ethersea doodles: the prologues!!

Prologue I: Blink shark<3

Prologue II: Coda(Koda?)'s skull!

Prologue III: Ol' Joshy's Training Ground For Psychic Soldiers Against Blink Sharks (they kept. they KEPT changing the name okay)

Prologue IV: Finneas Cawl and the Vanguard spy wash up dead in the bathysphere (yes, i traced the family guy death pose. don't look too hard at him)

Prologue V: Declan (con)Cern

Summary: The tidal wave (and the shadow of the citadel...)

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 1.3

Okay can anyone explain the “false hotel registration” thing to me? Does it mean they registered under a false name? So Paul registered under a false name so he could go fuck a girl in his room without getting in trouble with the press? I'm confused. Didn't they bring girls to their rooms all the time without getting in trouble? It doesn't make sense. Why did he feel the need to register under a different name?

Paul, talking about American conservatism, “So many organizations over here that are nuts anyway.” John, “Yeah, they're so far right they just–” tape ends. They really were brave, though. To say what they thought and risk losing what they'd only just got. I wonder who cut the recording. 

Journalist: Paul, are you planning to marry Jane Asher? John: scream ‘no.’ Go on. Lol John certainly says what he feels doesn't he?

Paul making fun of the racist question. Good job bud. 

The whole “Yesterday” thing is crazy. Like, what a feat, first of all. I think we forget how unbelievably successful the song was.

Second of all, I know John's reaction was childish and mean, but his feelings were valid if you just look at the treatment and reception of “Ticket to Ride”  (John's dead mum song). Like objectively yesterday is a better song, but still.

Oh, John. Poor thing. 

If “Girl” is secretly about Paul . . . yeesh. It's so obsessive and adoring and simultaneously so disappointed and disparaging. John always has such impossible standards for Paul. “She promises the earth to me and I believe her, after all this time I don't know why.” Um… maybe because he literally did give you the world? At so many points I find myself asking, “what more could Paul possibly have given John?”

People always take this quote as a sexuality thing, but couldn't it also be a conscience thing? Revulsion at taking advantage of the fact that all these women are fans? At the scale of his infidelity? I don't know, am I giving him too much credit?

The thing about Paul, John – and though it drives you insane, it's a big factor in why you love him -- is he's not going to be bullied into anything. If he decides to take LSD it's going to be on his own terms. And I know you think it'll bring you two closer, and you're right, but peer pressure just doesn't work on him. There's no point. You know that.

I LOVE Paul and the Indica. Designing the wrapping paper in secret up in his little attic room, covering over the shop windows so he can do his handyman work building shelves and painting in peace. It's Linda's Paul pre Linda, you know?

John is so good at PR as in making something sound as beautiful and important and powerful as possible. Which is something Paul absolutely relied on John to do and clearly could not do on his own after the break up. Look how John makes them almost into prophets here.

"I really wanted to live in London but I wouldn't risk it." Another thing to make John envious of Paul and resentful of Cynthia. I really wish those two had just never got married. 

“I don't object to people having a lot of money, I never did. But I do object to people being stony broke and starving.” RIP John, you would've loved the American “left” of today. But you can't have the former without the latter, sorry.

This picture always gets me. It's ridiculous. Pattie and George. Mo and Ringo. John and Paul. With Cynthia awkwardly by herself. It's funny. It's adorable. It's crushing. And with that quote? It's impossible.

I think Tara Browne is overlooked. Paul brought him home for Christmas. That's a big deal. And John hated him enough to laugh when he read about his death. That's also a big deal. Paul and his messed up social climbing obsession. I do think it's worth pointing out, though, the difference between Paul’s LSD trip with Tara and his trip with John. More on that later.

I really do think they were all staunchly anti-racist for their time, you know, besides John's racist jokes and drawings… but Paul particularly. And I have to wonder where that came from. Did he have empathy for people being judged on appearance and background? Was it partially due to his idolization of black artists? Did Little Richard maybe say something to him about racism in America? Anyone have any thoughts?

Actually, same, John. 

Okay and I have to share my hot take on the whole Jesus scandal. It's this: the American right doesn't actually care about Jesus. They care about protecting their hegemony. They didn't like that the Beatles were openly and stubbornly integrationist. They didn't like Paul's comment about their inhumane racism. But they couldn't openly counter that without showing their hand. So they used the Jesus comment as an excuse. If they play the religious persecution card, they get to paint themselves as the victims and therefore the good guys while they take down anyone who challenges the status quo that keeps them in money and power (aka the Beatles). 

Maybe I should've had a “poor baby” tally because the number of times I've said that about John in these comments has got to be tally-worthy. I would've driven around in a gorilla suit with you, honey!

It is actually amazing that there hasn't been more speculation on Paul's sexuality with all these serious boyfriends. 

Paul tells a story about a time he flew a plane, and how much better he liked it than being a passenger. First off. Imagine being a pilot and just being like “oh, you've never touched a joystick in your life, but you're Paul McCartney? Sure, go ahead. Fly the plane.” But also. His control issues and his confidence are both off unreal. No one in their right mind would feel more safe flying a plane – as someone with a complete lack of experience – than when a licensed pilot is flying it. 

Okay I literally JUST learned that Here There and Everywhere says, “how good it can be” not could. Can. And it's one of those in my "for sure this was about John" folder. Okay then. Wow.

The thing is they really did compliment each other's songs a lot more than modern Paul makes it seem like. So I wonder what it was about the “Here There and Everywhere” compliment that made it so special to Paul?

This footage where John is hiding behind McCharmley. I love protective Paul and how different he is to protective John and how much they needed each other. 

Hall of Fame quote: “what composer do you respect the most?” “I dunno really. John Lennon.” “Paul McCartney.”

[bugmomwrites]

Weary

Dr Flug x Reader

Stealing my sister’s bf’s HBO password is the second best thing I’ve done this week. Whipping up a solid drabble in 30 minutes and refining it into a whole oneshot in the same night takes first place.

There’s like, one innuendo towards the end but everything else is straight up fluff. Story came to me after reading yet another shady thing a certain airline I won’t name did, but it sounds like “we ain’t going”. I am changing the names so I don’t end up dead in a van somewhere, but if you know you know ;)

—•• •—• ••—• •—•• ••— ——•

“…And then what happened?”, Flug yawns, looking up at you through his goggles. You smile gently, kissing the front of the bag where his forehead would be.

“Well, according to some sources…the former production and safety manager’s exact words were ‘if anything happens, I didn’t do it myself’,” you respond, reading the article off your phone. Using the same soft voice you use when you read picture books to a sleepy 505, except it was a news article turned Wikipedia rabbit hole.

You two had gone from listening to him explain the differences between a 767 and an Airvan, to him resting his bagged head in your lap as you click on various entries and articles, bouncing information back and forth. The person, a known whistleblower who had retired from the controversial airline a few years ago, had tried many a time to draw attention to the company’s shady practices. For him to die so suddenly, especially as more inside secrets came to light, was too fishy for the public to ignore.

“I’m no detective, but…”

“Assassination?”, you finished for him, raising a brow. The two of you exchanged knowing looks.

“Does the Dreamweaver have flexible wings?”, he grumbles, wrapping his arms around your waist to bury his head further into your tummy. It tickles, but you try not to laugh lest you disturb his rare peace. Moments like these didn’t happen often, and you knew if any of the others were to see you like this, Black Hat would tear you both a new one, and Demencia would never let you hear the end of it.

A few more minutes go by, occasionally filled in with fun facts about the company’s various other incidents that had made the news in the past. You click off of yet another one where a plane was literally falling apart mid-air, having to make an emergency landing in a massive blaze. That was enough internet for today, at this rate you’d never want to hop in a plane again. You carefully set your phone to the side after checking the time.

“If I were him, I wouldn’t have let them get me.”

“I know, Flug.”

“And I would have documented everything.”

“Mhm”, you rest a hand on his back, your own eyes growing heavy.

“I’d go down there and put them back together myself. I’d personally take all of their shitty scrap parts, and make a better airplane than any of those so called professionals,” he says disdainfully.

You smile as he heaves a long sigh, like the weight of the world rests upon his weary shoulders; which isn’t far from the truth, if the way Black Hat nags him and Demencia torments him on a regular basis is any indication. Not to mention raising a son/care bear/science experiment through it all. But even if it’s not quite the whole earth, at the very least it’s the whole company. Everybody ought to give him more credit, himself included.

“If anybody could do such a thing, I know it’d be you, Flug. You’ve always had a brilliant mind.” He hums softly at the praise, feeling quite chuffed to know that at least someone in the manor besides his own son appreciated him not just for all he does, but who he is.

It’s quiet again for a few moments as he drifts in and out of consciousness, your hand gently rubbing his back until he speaks up again a few minutes later.

“And I’ll make you my co-pilot.”

This takes you by surprise, the hand rubbing his back stopping briefly as you let the words settle over the two of you. Reading between the lines was something you found yourself doing almost as often as reading his expression through his paper bag, the man still not quite comfortable enough to outright say all the things he’d had bouncing around in his head to you just yet. Your hand resumes as you test the waters, stuck between delicate hope and fear of possibly scaring him off.

“I…don’t know how to fly a plane. Nor do I have a pilots license.”

“Me neither, but I’ll show you how to do it in the cockpit. I’ll make sure you have a smooth ride for your first time.”

A pregnant pause falls over the both of you, and your whole face heats up, mind processing his words only to take a nosedive into the gutter. You open your mouth to respond only to be met with quiet snores from below, Flug blissfully unaware of the effect of his words.

‘Looks like the week finally caught up to him’, you think. Odds are he might not remember something like that when he woke up, but you could tease him about it later on. For now, you stretch your arms over your head and attempt to make yourself as comfy as possible without disturbing him, sleep beginning to overtake you as well. You glance down once more to where he dozes peacefully for the first time in years, committing it to memory before joining him in slumber.

“Buenas noches, Flug.”

—•• •—• ••—• •—•• ••— ——•

[evelmiina]

I'm going to be asking a lot of artists I follow this question, but how did you develop your style? It SEEMS like most people find their style and stick with it forever, just making improvements and iterations. I tend to work in a lot of different styles because I enjoy doing that, though I know there are things I gravitate towards as well. But I wonder what your journey was and how you got feedback and improved while staying true to what you enjoyed?

Hi, thank you for asking. Sorry I cannot answer shortly it is kinda big subject

My style is just tons of little and big things that add up at some point in a way that simply makes sense to me. It is kind of like a personal sandbox or garden I've built and I can see what I can do there, what to add or remove and what to improve on. In my personal work I rarely ask outsiders for feedback but I am lucky to have partner and friends who I trust give me well constructed comments. Less on the style side and more like "that arm is wonky, here's how to fix it". I've never really had problem of being too swayed or persuaded by someone else's opinion on style or visuals and in fact I used to be a bit bad at taking criticism. I'm really thankful to having received kindness and patience even when I'd get sulky and dramatic. I really started to improve faster when I started to respect fundamental drawing skills, and it didn't take anything away from "me" or "my style". On the contrary. It's not always enjoyable to do art. With any work there are parts that are just processes and execution and after the kind of honeymoon period of simply loving creating, or being energized by new project fades, it becomes more about being able to appreciate parts of it and accepting sometimes it's not very fun I think an artist can have multiple "aha" style moments in their life, where they feel like everything clicks and they want to stay in that sandbox for some time. Internet makes it seem like in order to be good/successful artist one has to be a brand and only do this one thing, but it's not the full picture. I follow many artists who seem content in making just one specific niche, but I don't know what other artistic pursuits they have outside internet. I don't know if that style is their heart and soul, or just something that pays the bills. I post variety of things and I'm aware some have much wider appeal and some feel more interesting only to myself. I still try to pursue what feels most honest to myself and it is sometimes scary not knowing where it goes, feeling like I should stay safe and only focus on the successful thing. But I want to incorporate new things and see what comes out.

[shima-draws]

This whole thing with the Titan submersible has revived my morbid childhood fascination with the Titanic story. Actually no I wouldn’t call it a fascination I’d probably call it an unhealthy obsession. Listen to me,

I saw the Titanic movie for the first time when I was 7. Do not ask me why my mom allowed me to watch it at that age. But from that point on my life changed FOREVER, dude. I’d watch Titanic on repeat. I had my grandmother sew me a dress like Rose’s (and I still fucking have it!! It is literally sitting in my closet). I made my parents take me to the Titanic museum in Florida. They got me Rose’s diamond necklace. I wore that and the dress to my second grade pictures. I have a school photo of me dressed up like Rose fucking Dawson from the 1997 film Titanic. I can literally grab this out of my closet right now bc fun fact I still have that photo too!! I tried to grow out my hair really long like Rose’s. My mom rescued a pregnant cat that was living in a pipe on our street, and when she had kittens I literally named two of them Jack and Rose. I think even at one point I tried imitating the scene where Jack drew Rose and tried drawing her myself (with her titties out and everything! At the tender young age of 7). Rose might have been my very first bisexual awakening but let’s not dwell on that. Anyway I had a Problem.

Flash forward to now. Some 20-ish years later. I hear about the Titan submersible. Before I know it I’m absorbing every single news article I can find. I am drowning in tumblr memes. I rewatched the Titanic movie today (and holy fuck it’s SO much darker than I remember??? WHY did my mom let me watch it at that age holy shit). I am being dragged kicking and screaming back into a hyperfixation I didn’t even realize I HAD. And it’s not even a good hyperfixation. I hate it here. Why was 7 year old me so invested in a movie that isn’t even accurate to the real historical event. My media obsession started with Titanic. Will it end with Titanic? Is this meant to haunt me forever?? Will I be on my deathbed thinking about Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio?? Who knows! I sure fucking don’t!!

[metfell]

Whats your favourite design quirk for each of cbench? I always love hearing how these things came to be !!

allow me to pull up some of my art for you and i will ramble- oh my god it has been literally so long since ive done colored artwork i am so sorry everyone wow the depression is visible i see. ANYWAYS.

so its funny trying to talk about designs when so much of how i draw them is just "this is ctommy but in a different outfit" so ill go into stuff that is always visible on them

i think my favorite consistency is ctubbos mismatched horns, its something that i think signifies it as My Tubbo Design. i saw a picture of a highland cow back in 2021 and i thought it fit him perfectly and ive never gone back ever since then. i started drawing tubbo as more butchy recently mainly because of boss and his source stuff to be perfectly honest, he has a lot going on in there. but its fun to take a character who is very often like... twink-ified? and make him into a stone dyke butch. well, idk if hes twink-ified these days, but back in 2021-2022 he sure was. i think giving tubbo a wider build- something these two images dont rlly do but whatever we'll work with it- is really great as a visual signifier for being guarded. hes a square hes got his massive snowchester coat on with its big furry coat and his hair covers his eyes and hes got a laurel wreath to signify coming home from war/being victorious in battle/etc. and he wasnt always a moobloom much like my little fic talked about, he used to be a human but the firework explosion fucked him up so bad the server had to stitch him back together with code from mobs. so the server grows a laurel on him and the server hardens him and tries to make him more resilient for the next fight.

i got insane abt tubbo let me move on to ranboo. i have so much fun drawing ranboo i really enjoy playing around with hair length and horn shape and leg anatomy etc. i used to be a fan of the straight split down the middle of their halves but i just love the mottled look so much i have to do that, mainly because i think it makes an artwork look a bit more polished for my own standards for myself. a lot of my ranboo design is an exercise in balance. his halves are black on the left white on the right, so his hair is flipped to make it more interesting, i give them the classic metfell hair flip because a)ranboolives hair moves like that already, and b)it lets me play around with giving them a little crown on the opposite sides horn. also i give them a bolo tie because i dont think cranboo can actually tie a regular tie if im being so forreal. and they have puffy sleeves because i think it adds to the fact that theyre not really a fighter like the others. though cranboo can hold their own and are a literal blacksmith constantly mining and smelting ores and making people armor sets, theyre not KNOWN for fighting, and so giving them an outfit that is not suited for fighting can reflect that.

when it comes to tommy i am always changing up how i draw him. im really attached to the long braid though, and im a classic butterfly clip ctommy enjoyer i think its fun and ppl who hated it were annoying as fuck. i think my favorite thing about drawing ctommy is that i give him gauges- very small ones but gauges nonetheless because cwilbur got them and he wanted to match early on. he never actually went through the process of stretching but he does have them in. and when i draw older ctommy i like to draw him like hes early on estrogen i think its really fun. same with tubbo i like to draw him like hes early on T. theyre transing together :]

[donnerpartyofone]

Hello, Sqwincher Zero and I are here to tell you to take this heat wave seriously. I had never heard of Sqwincher Zero before I took this picture with the intention of making fun of its name, but I sure wished I had some later that night. I will not invite you to scrutinize the series of bad decisions that I made yesterday leading up to a serious and avoidable medical emergency, but suffice it to say that none of these decisions were extreme or unusual for a fun grownup weekend. If anything I dialed it back a little, consciously, and I believed I was drinking plenty of water. It wasn't enough. I was feeling fine until I suddenly wasn't. My awareness of being Severely Dehydrated came on very quickly and then the next few hours were a scary nightmare. I am OK this morning and reviewing certain life choices and also our state of emergency preparedness.

I'm an extremely fortunate person. I have access to clean water, good food, and an amazing person who I tricked into marrying me, so someone is there to help me when I can't help myself. I am also in reasonably good health--which perhaps helped lull me into a false sense of security, especially at an age when my health is inevitably, normally changing, but I just haven't been paying that much attention to it.

Last night when things suddenly became very dark, I was struck with the intense and undeniable awareness that I needed emergency intervention. Like I should have called 911. I knew it for a fact. I have never experienced such a thing before. I could not get past the mental block of admitting that I was having an unprecedented physical crisis. Telling my husband to call 911 just seemed too radical. But I thought about it for hours. I even had a whole fantasy like, OK if my husband called 911 what would they ask him? What would they tell him to do? Instead of acting on this I just gave him little instructions one at a time. Let's draw a cold bath, let's move the fan, let's get a bucket, let's get a couple bottles of water, refill them now please. I was thinking very clearly, I was thinking about my temperature, I was monitoring my water intake versus how often I got sick. The one respect in which I was being irrational (besides my series of careless decisions during the day) was that I could not admit that I needed a doctor.

It's really easy to say things like "Don't be a tough guy, take care of yourself," as if the problem is strictly attitudinal. But switching gears into (for lack of a better term) self-care can be extremely psychologically complex. Being macho or too proud is one thing. Being habitually, neurotically afraid to frighten or inconvenience other people, or ashamed of drawing attention to yourself, is another thing. Being self-destructive and passively suicidal is yet another thing, with deep and insidious roots that can affect more things about your behavior than you even know. And finally, acknowledging that you are experiencing the paradigm shift of a Real Emergency, which might require scary and expensive and unpredictable new activities to get you out of it, is a whole other thing entirely. This is going to sound like an exaggerated reference point but whenever a serial killer is caught and people start saying that the spouse "must have known", they're not factoring in how hard it is to accept that your whole reality is changing and everything is very serious now. Even if the evidence was glaring, it would be a lot to process. There's even a thing in the book Interview With the Vampire as I recall, where somebody says it has been no big deal for vampires to hide their existence through the ages because humans will do extreme mental gymnastics to convince themselves that everything is normal. This all is more or less what was happening with me while I was refusing to call 911. I mean I knew that I should, I just couldn't make the leap.

I should say that my poor husband had no idea how bad it was. To him it just seemed like I'd had a little too much fun, and he was being patient and attentive. None of this is on him, I didn't explain things until I was out of the woods. One thing I feel bad about, that I rarely think about even though it's majorly true, is that not taking care of yourself can frequently, inevitably become someone else's problem. It cannot always stay private and contained forever; if you are incapacitated somehow, you will become someone else's chore.

I want to repeat that I didn't do anything that a normal adult wouldn't do on a Friday night. None of my actions were that extreme in and of themselves; I didn't even have alcohol in my system anymore by the time this struck. But I was not factoring in the weather, or my age, or anything like that that would have been important. We don't have an air conditioner at the moment because we have been luxuriating in our new well-ventilated apartment and enjoying the fact that we can survive with just box fans. I radically underestimated the potential consequences of just toughing it out and going about my business. I need to think more carefully about such things, and mentally reorient myself on preparing for emergencies instead of just reacting "if anything comes up". And I should also supplement our first aid supplies with something that isn't just for cuts and colds. I'm lucky I had cold, clean water, but at some point I really needed electrolytes and vitamins, and there was just nothing to be done for it late at night. I have a lot more thinking to do on this general topic, but it's time for me to get up and drink more water. And maybe go buy some Sqwincher Zero.

[universe-friday]

EXCERPT #24:

Hello. I hope somebody is listening.

[...]

Sorry, I haven’t been talking much, old sport.

Not much to say, is there?

[...]

I haven’t felt much motivation to do anything recently…

I haven’t fought a cyborg in a while… I hear screams at night and do nothing about it… [sigh].

[...]

She’s gone, old sport. Like really, I think she’s gone.

Have I looked for her? Well, not… really.

I went back to the nightclub she works at… But I didn’t see her there…!

After that, I didn’t know where to even start. So, I… Didn’t!

Rather than fighting cyborgs, there’s been a lot of internal conflict, recently.

This wasn’t Thalia’s first time running away. It’s not even her second, nor her third… I just didn’t mention the other times, as she always came back… Eventually, right?

Old sport… If someone keeps running away, at what point do you stop looking for them?

Surely, they’re leavi- they’ve left for a reason.

And even if they do come back, do you let it go? Do you pretend like nothing has happened? Even if you love them, is it safer to let them go?

Is that what it takes to exit this rollercoaster? This cycle of ups and downs; the highs make you feel infinite, yet there always has to be an end.

I don’t know anymore, old sport. It’s not as though I didn’t value our time together, or that I don’t care for her… But what good is it doing me? When I think about her all the time, yet, I seem so insignificant to her.

[...]

You’d tell me what to do, right, February?

I know this seems all too familiar with you.

You ran to the skies and never looked back. I should resent you for that. I should hate you.

But I know you, February. Exactly like you know me, I hope.

I hope you remember me as much as I remember you. In fact, I see you everywhere.

I see you in the park as I remember the picnics we used to have. I see you in the streets as I remember how we made our own fun in summer, drawing with chalk and spotting pictures in the clouds.

I see you on the rooftops which I roam, every day, as I remember the first time you let me try a cigarette, and I remember how loudly you laughed as I coughed in disgust… If you could see me now, February.

Gosh, I hope you see me.

I hope you see me and remember me in the little things.

I hope you’re reminded of me. In the same way you think of the beach every time sand falls out of your shoes.

I hope you’re able to think of the good of it. To not be reminded of how annoying it was that sand got stuck in your shoes, but how much fun was had on that same sand.

I hope you’re able to think of the good of me. Of us.

Because, truly, I am making a mess of myself now.

[...]

[your-unfriendlyghost]

ur fav old car 3 2 1 go

THANK you for asking this is gonna be so fun (for me. And hopefully you. Idk if everyone else really wants to hear this but that’s their problem now)

It’s a tough question tho, ‘cuz there’s so many I like that it’s hard to say! Here’s a few in no particular order- but again I like a lotta old cars so it’s not gonna be an exhaustive list

(also btw none of the pics here are mine lol- every time I see a classic car I like irl, I always seem to be driving myself so I never can get good pics 😭)

The late 50s T-bird (I’m not crazy about the color of this one but hey it’s still really cool- dig the porthole window in the back)

2. The ‘67 Impala (fun dumb fact about me- I carry a toy impala in my school bag. When I get bored in class I take it out and either try to draw it or roll it at my friends to bug them)

3. Some early ‘70s Datsuns! These are harder for me to classify ‘cuz the models are given numbers, not traditional names, and I don’t always do so good with numbers lol. I think this one’s a ‘72 240C. But w/ these it’s not so much a specific model I like- I just like the vibes of most of the ones that look like this. (I saw one sorta like this one at a motor show once, I wish I had gotten a better picture- but I didn’t so take this one I found online lol)

4. The ‘58 Plymouth Fury- Very “Christine”, I know, but I can’t help it, she’s such a great lookin car holy hell. Plus I liked Plymouth furies before I knew they had anything to do with Stephen King ok (Funnily enough, a week or so before I wound up reading “Christine”, I saw one of these in a Dairy Queen parking lot. Me and my buddy got so hyped about it that I momentarily forgot that my kid brother had just dropped his melting cherry dipped cone directly onto my shorts)

Okay, that’s probably enough for now because tbh I’ve been having so much fun thinking about this that I’m about half an hour late for working out- There’s a lot more old cars that I adore and could ramble on about for hours, but I’d better wrap this up before I get more late/it gets too long lol. Thanks so much for asking!!

(And sorry to all y’all who follow me for art lol- what can I say, I may like to draw but I am still a teenage dude… I’m ✨multifaceted ✨)

[thecluelessdoctor]

whike I mentally prepare myself to make a whole damn comic, it's time I talk about the FNAf movie because fuck you I am going to write what I want

cw: spoilers for the FNAF movie!!

At base value, I loved it. I felt the pacing was a little slow, but I love it. From the little refs to the games, to the in general plot, it was just very enjoyable, even if most of the plot is just from the fact Vanessa didn't tell Mike wtf was going on.

NOW! let's talk technical!

For a pg-13, it was pretty good! I feel it matches the games really well! It's not too scary, but it can give you a startle, especially to any newbie! My mom was startled by the balloon boy lmao. Also it had blood so it's a plus.

The acting, dialogue, and overall set is really good. Scrumptious if I do say so myself.

I loved how the animatronics looked. Freddy and chica being my overall favorites. Idk they made my boy Bonnie blue so I had to take a few points. The cupcake running around was weirdly funny to me lol.

Now lemme touch on the plot!

I liked the plot! Like I said before, it was a LITTLE slow, but nothing too bad. I found it really interesting with what they did with Micheal and the whole dream thing.

And the idea that the children communicate in pictures rather than words hit me pretty hard, because that how I myself communicate. Although I can be.. pretty good with my words, drawing, and art as a whole is relatable to me, making Abby a really relatable character to me.

I really don't understand the hate for the movies bc it's not lore accurate. So what??? A lot of movies based on games don't! I mean- look at the Sonic the hedgehog movie!! Or the Mario movie! So your point is invalid. And also- I'm pretty sure this is a lot more entertaining than watching Micheal do five nights at Freddy's smhhh.

Though I'm sitting here in complete wonder bc like- WHO WAS THE 5TH KID?! WE SEE HER IN THE PICTURES!!! BUT- IS IT CASSIE?? OR CHARLIE MAYBE?! IDK

Also what happened to Derek I need to know.

Did he get turned into a animatronic what the fuck happened to him

Anyway

Let's talk about the cons of the movie.

I keep bringing this up, but the movie was slow. Not unbearably slow, but still slow.

Also, the whole aunt subplot- idk I felt it wasn't really needed except for the mat pat scene (he fucking embraced that scene it was great the theater I was in started cheering and I had to explain to my mom why everyone was so happy)

Also I felt the one major jumpscare we get, of foxy, was waisted. It looked like he was rolling into the security guard on roller blades. I would have liked it if maybe foxy like jumped at the guard or something. Idk just a me thing

I also feel the 'i always come back' line was rushed, same with shaggy's- sorry I mean WILLIAM'S death. It didn't really feel satisfying ig?

also, I felt that Vanessa was more of a plot device than a character. Because most of the plot literally is riding on the fact she doesn't tell Mike the truth.

But anyway

What would I rate this movie, and should you watch it?

I give it a 8/10. It's fun, and nostalgic for old FNaF fans, and a fun intro to new ones. Go check it out

[themadlostgirl]

NDY AU (9)

*Wow. Going back to the OG! Well OG adjacent since this is part of the little au I wrote but it doesn't matter. We're here! And that is another request off the books and finally done haunting my inbox!

I swear I know they are there and I had every intention of writing them sooner but time doesn't exist and suddenly a couple days turns into a couple months.*

Pairing: Peter Pan x fem|Reader

Prompt: A little bonus chapter to the end of the NDY AU I wrote forever ago. The curse is broken! (Fair warning it is a long post)

~~~

It is amazing how time can fly.

My life was about as normal as it could get considering everything. I went to school, went to work, did homework, went to bed. In between all the monotony of routine though was my single bright spot. Peter. My Peter.

Ever since we had met we had been inseparable. He had unlocked a part of me that I had never known was there. Something rebellious and wild and unashamed to be completely myself. I loved who I was when I was with him. It felt like I had been asleep for a long time and now I was finally awake.

My parents still didn’t approve of him no matter what I told them or what Peter did. They saw him as a nuisance and a terrible influence on me. I think they assumed that I would outgrow him at some point but they could not be more wrong. I loved him and if it weren’t for the fact that we had tried once and failed we would have run off together. Started a whole new life together just the two of us. It felt like forever ago.

Peter and I found ourselves now in the trailer that Peter had officially started staying in permanently after the whole mess with his dad happened. He had taken a generator and was keeping it warm and livable that way so he didn’t freeze to death in the winter. We were laying on the bed, not a strip of clothes between the two of us. I was stretched out across the covers and Peter was sitting cross legged next to me with one of his notebooks in hand.

No matter how many times we had done it since that first time on the beach I got such a thrill when we had sex now. Like it was some big forbidden thing we shouldn’t have been doing. Which was ridiculous considering how good it felt. I couldn’t sneak Peter into my house so we had taken to coming back to the trailer when we felt frisky.

As we had been laying there in the post coital glow I had spotted his notebook and asked him to draw me like one of his French girls. He didn’t understand the reference and I had to explain it was from a movie and in it the one character draws the female lead naked. He liked that idea very much. He liked it a little less when I kept singing Celine Dion and told me to lay still.

“Are you almost done?” I asked.

“Give me a minute, pet.” he said, “Perfection takes time.”

“I don’t need it to be perfect. The only people who are gonna see it are you and me.”

“It does need to be perfect because the figure that I am drawing is perfect. A perfect model and an imperfect drawing just won’t do.” he said with a smile. “Now stop wiggling. I swear I’m almost done. I’m just getting the shading right.”

I stayed still for a few more minutes before Peter declared his masterpiece done. I immediately sat up and asked to look at it. He handed me the notebook and I felt my face go hot as I looked at the picture. I knew that Peter was a good artist but I don’t think I was prepared for just how good a drawing it was. That definitely was me, naked as could be. Not a detail blurred or erased.

“I think this has to be my best portrait yet.” he leaned over, leaving a kiss on my shoulder. “What do you think?”

“It’s great. I’m actually a little shy now. It didn’t really occur to me how intently you were focused on me that entire time.”

“Hard to focus on anything else.” he turned my head to kiss me. “And now that I’ve immortalized you in graphite perhaps we can have some more fun.”

“Not likely.” I pushed him back. “We’ve been here forever and I need to get home.”

“Ugh!” he flopped back against the bed. “No. Stay here. We could both live here if we wanted. No having to run home, we can just stay in bed all day.”

“You are insatiable.” I rolled my eyes and stood up as I started searching for my clothes. “I will be back to see you tomorrow but if I don’t get home soon then my parents are going to be on my ass. So, are you going to keep pouting or are you gonna walk me home?”

“Fine. I’m coming.” Peter got out of bed too and started dressing. “Any plans for the weekend?”

“Babysitting.”

“Oh come on! Can’t you cancel? I thought you stopped taking weekend babysitting jobs.”

“I did. But Ms.Mills asked me to watch Henry. Henry is literally my only exception to my no weekends rule. Sorry.”

“Henry Mills. Stealing my girl.” Peter wrinkled his nose.

I tugged on my shoes. “Oh yes, the eleven year old is going to steal your girlfriend. The competition is fierce out here.”

“Is he still on that whole thing about all of us being characters from a fairy tale?”

“Yep. It’s been getting worse since his bio-mom came to town. I swear, the amount of times that kid has run off into things he shouldn’t be getting into is staggering. He doesn’t need a babysitter he needs a leash.” I linked my hand with Peter’s as we started the walk back into town.

“So much weird shit has been happening since she arrived.” Peter said. “I mean, Ms.Blanchard got accused of murder after being outed as a mistress. There was that fire at town hall. The sheriff died. It’s been bad. Don’t get me wrong the chaos is entertaining but it is a lot.”

“Yeah. Hopefully things will be winding down now.” I sighed. Peter saw me back to my house and kissed me goodbye before strolling back up the way he came. I went inside and had another uncomfortable dinner with my parents before absconding to the safety of my room. That was another thing, my relationship with my parents was never good but it had only been getting worse as of late. It was as if the thin veil of a functional family had been stripped away and we were left to come to a single conclusion. We couldn’t stand each other.

The idea of moving into that trailer with Peter sounded more pleasant by the hour. If it weren’t for the fact that I knew my parents would call someone on me to drag me back I may have taken him up on it.

The weekend came and I went over to watch Henry. He looked miserable poor kid. “Things not going well, buddy?” I asked.

“Not really,” he muttered. “No one believes me. I don’t know what to do to make them understand.”

I really didn’t get the whole storybook thing but I did know something about people not listening to me. My parents never listened when I tried to tell them Peter was a good guy. I could imagine Henry was feeling the same kind of frustration.

“Maybe I can help.” I told him. “You have a list of who you think who is, right? Let’s go over it again. Maybe if we can figure out who everyone is then it’ll help them understand it isn’t just a coincidence.”

“Maybe.” he said. He half-heartedly pulled out his book and a pad of paper. He started going over the ones he knew for sure. “You know, this entire time I realized I never tried figuring out who you were.” he turned to me.

“You think I’m in here too?” I asked.

“You have to be.” He said and started flipping through the stories. “I just don’t know which one. There’s not a lot of stories about teenagers in here. Tell me more about what you like to do. Who are your friends?”

“I like to read and I get good grades.” I said. “I uh…I don’t really have a whole lot of friends. I have a boyfriend though that I really love.”

“Boyfriend? Have you always had a boyfriend?”

“I don’t talk about him much. Not everyone likes him. They don’t see him as I do.”

“Who is it?”

“His name is Peter.”

“Peter…” Henry scratched his head. “Last name? Sometimes the entire name has clues.”

“Pangle. Peter Pangle.”

“Pangle? Really?”

“What?”

“What is he like? You said people don’t like him.”

“No. He’s a bit of a jerk. Immature. He likes to draw and his favorite book is Lord of the Flies. His favorite color is green. I don’t know Henry, any of this ringing any bells?”

“Immature, likes green and books about boys trapped on an island.” Peter’s eyes went wide. “And he’s your boyfriend?”

“Yes. What does this--” Henry ignored me as he started scribbling something down in his notebook. “What epiphany did you just have?”

“It’s just a hunch but I feel pretty good about it.” he showed me the page. “Your Peter is actually Peter Pan and since you are dating him then that most likely makes you Wendy Darling.”

“You think we’re Peter and Wendy?” I tried to bite back a laugh. “Doesn’t Wendy have brothers? I’m an only child.”

“Maybe the curse separated you.” Henry said. “But it makes sense. You take care of kids as a job and Wendy was taken to Neverland to be a mother figure to the Lost Boys. It makes sense.”

“Perhaps.” There was a part of me that was kind of hoping that Henry’s theory about who I was would unlock something but I could only shrug. Wendy Darling? It didn’t feel right. Peter though…he does have a lot of similar traits to Peter Pan now that I think about it. If anything this would be something entertaining to tell him about later when I saw him.

After I was done babysitting Henry I returned home and stayed up late talking to Peter over the phone. I told him about Henry’s theory and I could hear him groaning over the phone. “Peter Pan? Really?”

“Oh shush, it could have been worse. You could have been Pinocchio or something.” I told him.

“I only have one kind of wood on me.” Peter said.

“You are disgusting and a pervert. I’m going to bed now.”

“Oh come on ‘Wendy’” he teased, “Don’t hang up on me. I want to talk more.”

“Don’t call me Wendy. And I would love to stay up longer but I really am tired.” I yawned to emphasize my point. “I’ll talk to you in the morning, okay?”

“Okay. Goodnight, pet. Love you.”

“Night. Love you too.” I hit end call and rolled over to go to sleep.

The next day more chaos ensued in town. I was sitting at home, book in hand when I heard sirens going blaring down the street. What emergency was happening now? I went to ask my mom and she informed me that one of her friends in the hospital said that Henry Mills had been taken to the ER after having fallen unconscious due to some unknown factor.

“Oh god, poor Henry.” my heart went out to him. He was a good kid. I really hoped that he would come out of this alright. I decided to go check on him and went to the hospital.

It was strange seeing him laid up in bed with all the tubes and wires surrounding him. He was so still. I had always known Henry to be so full of life. This was wrong. He couldn’t die like this. He needed to live. It was so important that he lived!

I didn’t stay long. I couldn’t stay there and see him like that. I didn’t want to go home either so I decided to kick around on the beach, watch the waves lap at the shore. What I would have given for a balmy beach and warm white sand. Maybe one of these days when I finally graduated and could ditch this town.

It was as I was standing there looking out over the dreary grey of the dark ocean I felt something slam through me. It was like I had gotten hit by a wave and it left me staggering on my feet as memories slammed into my brain. An old life. My life.

My head shot up as I remembered who I was and where I had come from. I stared at the woods and started running. Peter! My Peter!

My legs kept pumping as I willed myself to go faster. I needed to find Peter. I had to!

My pace stumbled to a stop as I noticed something rushing over the forest floor and swallowing the trees in sinister purple fog. I could feel it in my bones, the way it tingled and set my hair on edge. This was magic. I braced knowing I couldn’t outrun it and instead let it encompass me. The rush of it fell over me and away as the fog dissipated and I was still standing where I had been. I was still here. Good. Hopefully that meant Peter was too.

I was rushing up the trail and saw someone barreling down the other way. “Peter!” I shouted. “Peter Pan!”

“Lost girl!” Peter ran to me and tackled me in a hug. “It’s you. It’s us! I remember!”

“I know.” I held him tight, scared to let him go. “Peter…Peter…”

“It’s alright, precious.” he pressed a kiss to my head. “We’re not going to be separated again. Never again.”

“Twenty eight years…” I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “We’ve been stuck here for twenty eight years.”

“I know. I know.” he soothed me. “But we had each other. Even that damn curse couldn’t keep us apart.”

“That it couldn’t.” Tears were leaking down my face. “Do you still remember our lives here?”

“Yes.” he wiped the tears away. “I remember you saying that you loved me.”

“Yeah…I guess I did.” I had been carefully dancing around that for decades back on Neverland. Yet a couple years stuck in a curse finally loosed the feeling from my tongue. “You said you loved me too though.”

Peter’s face went pink. “Right.” he cleared his throat. “I suppose I did.”

“Do you still feel that way or was that just the curse talking?” I asked, scared of the answer.

He softened, pulling me in for another kiss. “No precious, that was not the curse talking. I love you. I do. I swear.”

“Your word is your bond.” My face hurt from how wide I was smiling. “I know we’ve been here together this whole time but I feel like we were still miles apart.”

“Not anymore. Never again, lost girl.” Peter said. “I told you before when the curse was about to hit us that I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. It was only a matter of time until I found you.”

“And you were insufferable.”

“Yet you came around to my charms once again.”

“Somehow. How you can charm anything is a wonder.”

The smile on Peter’s face started to drop and darkness entered his eyes. “Peter? What’s wrong?”

“That fucker hurt you.” he said, his words like ice. “I’m going to go kill him.” he started walking back towards town, tugging me along.

“Who are you talking about?”

“The man this damn curse had me convinced was my father.” he growled, his grip on my hand almost painfully tight. “He hurt me. He hurt you. I’m going to kill him for that.”

“Oh…right.” I had almost forgotten about that. It seemed like a lifetime ago. How long ago was that even? It could have been years at this point but I simply couldn’t gauge when it happened. Still, the fear I had felt was real and so was the anger rushing through my veins now. “After we kill him can we return to Neverland?”

“Of course.” Peter’s smile turned cruel and calculating. “And there was one good thing about this curse, it gave us access right to the Heart of the Truest Believer.”

My heart skipped a beat as I realized he was right. “And I’m his trusted babysitter. I’m sure we could convince him to come with us. If the kid wants nothing else, it’s adventure. And what land is more perfect for that than Neverland?”

“Gods I’ve missed you.” he pulled me in again to plant a kiss on my cheek. “Come now, Lost Girl. We have a new game to play.”

(1) (Previous)

[nayialovecat]

The Ink Demonth 2023 - Day 26. Demon

Day 26. Demon Crossover: The Owl House You're wrong, Luz. This is Earth. Just a very, very strange and specific piece of Earth. Yes, this is the exit door from BATIM. Now you know why there was such a strange light coming from them X"D

It was even fun to draw, although I was very hesitant to do it, which became even more intense just before colouring (which I will tell you about in a moment). The premise was that Luz opened a portal to the Workshop during her attempts to recreate the Portal Doors - this is the period in which King was searching for his father (and didn't know who he was). By the way, this also explains how Bendy managed to get out of the Studio, breaking the curse, and went on his tour around the multiverse :D

And now it will be less fun. I've had a really bad panic attack and anxiety in the last twenty-four hours - and for a while I didn't want to post anything else. Never. And it all started with a short exchange of comments under picture Day 23. Contraband on dA (screenshot here). It doesn't seem like anything (I tried to make it a joke, but then they blocked me), but I checked this person's account and discovered that they were publishing other people's works there (mainly from Twitter and Pinteres). I don't know if it was with their consent, but it seems to me that if they have consent to it, they should still include information about the original author of the work in the description of the image (I'm not even saying that it would be perfect to provide a link to the original work), and this is not the case does. If it weren't for the fact that some of the works have watermarks or signatures of the original authors, you might think that the guy draws themself - nowhere does they state that this is the case, but they comments on the pictures as if they were their author. Plus as I said earlier, they blocked me before i could ask about these (probably stolen) arts. Why did it make me anxious and paranoid? Well, 'cause I am very, very afraid of my works being stolen. I'm not very popular, so there's little chance of this happening - and I usually don't remember such things happening. Sometimes I feel anxiety when I find my arts on Pinterest or strange websites with pictures - I didn't give permission for that. This person, however, reminded me of it with their indignation that how do I have the right not to have a picture of Owl House when the search engine returned it as Owl House. As I say, I was ready to give up further work not only on Ink Demonth (especially since, as you can see, this entry is about Owl House, on which that person clearly has an unhealthy fixation), but also any work that I had post on dA or tumblr. I blocked them on dA, but cannot block myself for them in the whole internet, right? First of all, my paranoia resulted in me blocking the visibility of my tumblr for people who are not logged in, I'm also trying to do something like that for dA, but I don't think it's possible. I don't know where I'll end up with my paranoia - but my friends have made a lot of effort to convince me that everything is ok. Finally, I decided to post this picture and I'll probably upload other Ink Demonth entries at last. I hope I won't regret it :c But I'm afraid and I don't know if after finishing the Ink Demonth challenge I won't give up (for some time or forever) publishing my drawings on the Internet. I wanted you to know. It's bad. My anxiety doesn't necessarily make sense - but it has huge consequences.

My paranoia brought another bad thing. Although I really liked the show The Owl House and was looking forward to the translation and dubbing of the next season in my country (the one that takes place on Earth) - I'm not waiting for it anymore. To be honest, I'm sick of it and feel anxious just looking at the characters of the show. Here look, how can a bad fandom ruin even the coolest thing :/ Someone will say that I am exaggerating. YES I KNOW. But that's how my fucked up, full of illnes mind works and I have no influence on it.

I didn't want such a monologue under this art. I wanted to write here which characters I like and who I'm shipping with whom - but right now... well. No. Sorry.

I just want to have the joy of creating again…

Bendy and the Ink Machine (c) Joey Drew Studios Inc. The Owl House (c) Dana Terrace Sammy and the Ink Machine (c) Nayia Lovecat

[shads-shipposts]

Hi again! This story is gonna have a pretty fast upload schedule, with new chapters coming out every Wednesday and Saturday. At least for chapters 1-20. I'll be taking a break after that until I finish "Act II". Act I is mostly complete (1-14) already. It takes us until like chapter 18 to finally get on the damn ship, but there is plenty of chaos and sailor interactions in the meantime! 

As always, if you liked the chapter please give it a vote!  And be sure to leave a comment, I always enjoy reading them ^^

Fun fact! 2025 starts on a Wednesday just like 2020 did, hence the coincidence of this story "starting" Wednesday at midnight. And my very first try at a Tintin fic in 2014 started Jan 1st on a Wednesday as well. 

Poetry.

Previous Chapter/Beginning: Here Next Chapter: Jan 4th Ao3 Version: Here

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Why the hell was there an old car horn outside?

Someone probably drunk after New Year's Eve.

Or maybe it's my alarm?

No, I never used the Car Horn sound byte.

It sounded... a lot busier than usual outside too. Especially considering I was near the back of my neighborhood.

Where was everyone in such a rush to get to?

Sure, it was Wednesday, but still!

Burrowing deeper under the covers, I frowned. My bed was... roomier than usual, and I couldn't find the back rail of the daybed behind me. I rolled over, eyes still shut as I reached out with my legs to find it.

Still nothing.

That, honestly, should have been my first clue. The first harbinger of the chaos that was to come. But I was groggy and honestly a bit grouchy from staying up so late.

And for what? It was rainy and cold, no one was shooting fireworks anyway.

Cracking open an eye, I should have been greeted with the wooden rails of the daybed. Not... a colorful bedroom bathed in the weak, early-morning sun streaming through the open curtains nearby. Knickknacks littered the room, with nautical posters of various ships plastered all over the striped wallpaper with little anchor designs.

I slowly sat up, scanning the room.

It was utterly foreign, unlike any bedroom I'd slept in before, and yet... familiar? Or at least, the overall look of everything was. It certainly wasn't realism, as the colors of everything were just a bit too vivid, but it was very close. The aesthetics were distinctly vintage, which wasn't exactly something I partook in, but I still couldn't shake the feeling I'd seen this style somewhere recently.

But where?

That should have been my second clue I was about to be a victim of ye old HorrorsTM that came with fanfictions, but it still didn't sink in.

I honestly thought I had just... ya know. Lost my marbles. Maybe college had finally pushed me to the breaking point.

When I say I contemplated dropping out last Fall... damn those fruit flies and their entire lab-grown lineage to hell.

But a bit of a mental breakdown was far more logical than the self-insert reality-hopping tomfuckery I'd been burdened with, so I couldn't be blamed for my denial.

Apparently, the universe had enough of my confusion and decided to give me a very obvious indicator of where exactly I'd woken up.

A radio sparked to life, old-timey jazz tunes drawing my attention to a large framed newspaper clipping hanging across the room from the foot of my bed. Despite my lack of glasses, my vision was perfectly clear, giving me a crisp look at the clock next to the radio, reading 9:30 am.

It also gave me a high-definition look at the article headline and the picture beneath it.

Corruption Uncovered: Inside a City Council's Shady Dealings.

There, clear as day beneath the bold font, stood myself and none other than Wonder Boy himself...

Tintin.

The final piece of the puzzle, everything else clicking into place after that.

The aesthetic, the nautical charts, the old car horn, the 40s jazz, the newspaper.

I had found myself in none other than the Tintin movie.

"Mornin'!"

I yelped and flipped out of the bed as a voice sounded right by my ear. Jumping into a right fighting stance, guard up, I found myself staring at a familiar face.

Not a sailor, or a reporter, or even a Tintin character at all.

Instead, I was looking at one of my characters.

Tan skin, shoulder-length black hair that fluffed in every direction, mischievous green eyes, and a body built like a brick shithouse.

"T-... Trevor!?" I sputtered, blinking rapidly as if he were merely an illusion and a few resets would make him disappear.

How was he here? Yeah, sure, he originally started showing up in a Tintin fic snippet I had from like 2017 or 2018, so him in Tintin wasn't too outlandish... but why was he in my room?

Or whomever's room this was.

He flopped on my bed, rolling onto his back and grinning up at me.

Hell, those teeth are sharp.

"The creator recognizes me! Guess that time hanging on the ceiling was worth it!"

Is that where you were? I thought, looking up at the rafters. How the hell did I not see you, these ceilings ain't vaulted.

Trevor flipped back onto his stomach, pointing a finger gun at me. "Ya know, still waitin' on you to draw me."

"Wait-"

"I mean, come on!" Trevor sat up and gestured to himself. "You only just recently settled on a design! I've just been a vague consciousness that plagued your stories with no set corporeal form. Do you know how hard it is to flirt with people like that?"

I shook my head, waving my hands in a weak attempt to get him to stop talking so I could get a word in. "Hold it! What kind of whack-ass dream am I havin' that you're in?" I exclaimed. "You've never shown up in my dreams!"

Yeah, college really has driven me past the brink of insanity. I'm really out here arguing with a figment of my imagination asking why he showed up.

Ain't the weirdest dream we've had.

True that, but still!

Trevor's grin, somehow, got wider. "Dream? My dearest creator, this isn't a dream!" He frowned, scratching behind his ear like a dog. "Though, suppose it is in a way. Dream come true for your hyperfixated self, gettin' to roam the Tintin movie from 2011! Ya know, the reason you're writin' thanks to that 2014 RP?"

I grimaced. "Ugh, please don't remind me of that old role-play nightmare."

"Hey, it was a start!"

"A cringey start at that," I muttered, then shook my head violently to erase it from my brain like an Etch-A-Sketch. "Hey, stop changin' the subject!"

"What subject?" Trevor asked, an innocent smile on his face.

"The subject of what the hell you're doing here, in my dream. I know you're self-aware, you little shit."

"That I am! Well, since you're so persistent."

Somehow managing a backflip off the bed, he then raised his arms above his head like a successful gymnast.

"Try hard," I snorted.

"Ah, but who designed me so?"

"Yourself," I shot back. "I never even created your dramatic ass, you just started showin' up. Like the personification of the plot or somethin'."

"Ah, but you can't say I ain't useful!"

"Broken clock is right twice a day."

"I could boot you back to the 'waking'." He used air quotes around the word. "World if you'd prefer!" His teeth flashed in a devious grin. "I'm sure the Spring semester would love to welcome you in."

Nausea rose up my throat and I felt the beginnings of a tension migraine behind my eyes.

"Ugh hard pass."

"So stay awhile!" Trevor suggested, spreading his arms wide. "Besides, what do you have to lose?" He winked at me. "Like you said, it's just a dream."

Boy, I do not like the way you said that.

But, he had a point. Or, I guess my subconscious did. This wouldn't be the first time I lucid dreamed, or was self-aware in a dream. And what else could it be other than a dream?

People didn't jump between universes. That just wasn't a thing.

A dream.

That was it.

Just... just a dream.

Given that it was just a dream, it wouldn't hurt to go rambling. It was odd the scene hadn't shifted yet, since my dreams were usually pretty chaotic, but maybe this was the time for a scene shift.

May as well make the best of it before I wake up on Winter Break again. Happy New Year to me.

"Alright, fine," I groaned. "I'll bite."

"You sure do!" Trevor looked at his watch-less wrist. "Welp, gotta get goin'! Things to do, places to be."

Really?!

Since when did dreams have any sort of timetable to keep?

This wasn't the Polar Express!

"Hold it!" I barked, following him as he started for the door. "Can't I get at least a little explanation?"

"Nope!" Trevor turned to face me, grinning ear to ear. "This is not a well-thought-out and carefully crafted type of fanfic, no no! This is a wild ride of a fic where we just take the cards we're dealt, and we run with them!" He shrugged. "All there is to it!"

"But-"

"Besides! Explaining things only slows the chaos down, after all, no one has time nor patience for exposition dumps. That's not why they're here! They're here for nonsense to fuel their escapism and yearning for a found-family that would kill for them!"

"Who the fuck is they?" I exclaimed, gesturing at the empty apartment. "We're alone."

"Are we?"

"Hey, don't pull a Polar Express train hobo," I said, jabbing a finger into his chest. "Can't I get a little info?"

"It's a dream, right? They don't do info dumps, they go straight into the crack!" He held his hand up. "But if you insist."

The moment he snapped his fingers, a wave of images and information slammed into my brain and knocked me off my feet.

Dark alleyways, crowded marketplaces, peaceful courtyards, musty attics, cluttered apartments.

Quick glimpses really, like the faded, hazy memories of dreams. Enough of a visage to distinguish where I was, to feel a sense of familiarity, but not really anything more.

Blurry snapshot rather than a true picture.

Sounds muted and unclear, like hearing things from underwater. Just past the point of deciphering. Voices, lots of those. Gunshots? Yes, those too.

One particular scene came into focus.

A library, or perhaps a city records office basement, its aisles dark and shelves overturned. Books everywhere, some intact, some not. Papers, torn and stained, littering the ground. Adrenaline pulsing through my veins, something heavy scalding my hand.

A pistol, recently and frequently fired.

Echoes of gunfire, accompanied by yelling. Angry, threatening yelling, the roughness and pitch unmistakably masculine.

Yet there was another above the din, a lighter tone that had yet to really mature into the lower base of a grown adult.

A glance to the side revealed a familiar freckled face and ginger quiff, its owner hunkered down behind an overturned table with me. A flash of white fur near his leg, adding his barks to the cacophony.

Was Tintin shorter than me? No, yes... maybe?

It was always so hard to tell when crouched, as I was all leg and hardly any torso at all.

Height didn't matter here, but numbers did.

And we were losing.

Tintin grabbed my hand, yanking me towards a fallen shelf as he fired over his shoulder and forced the attackers to take cover.

Were they the sailors? Another faction? Simple thugs? Some corrupt government goons?

I didn't know, and would apparently never know as the scene vanished like a mirage on an old dirt road during a summer heatwave.

In its place came the headache of the century.

"Hellfire," I groaned, gripping my head. "I know they say to avoid infodumps in stories, but this is a-whole-nother bitch. What the fuck, Trevor?"

I received no answer.

I slowly sat up, cursing as the room spun. "Trevor?"

No one, just me in the room.

And a clock that now read 10 am.

One of the windows to the fire escape was open, however, and with great difficulty, I got to my feet to see if he'd escaped that way.

You better be gone gone, 'cause boy if I get my hands on you you're donezo.

I staggered to the back window, leaning heavily on the windowsill as the low drone of a ship's horn echoed off the alley walls. A quick scan of the lower street revealed no Trevor, and as I blinked away the spots from my vision, I also saw no sign of him along the rooftops.

"Trickster bastard," I grumbled, rubbing my temple.

Another low drone from a ship caught my attention, and I looked towards the source. Just over the tops of some of the buildings, I could see the crane arms moving back and forth.

Go.

You know you want to.

My eyes moved to the nightstand, where a sketchbook sat by none other than my phone.

What do you have to lose?

I walked over slowly, a hand out in case I lost my balance and feel, and stood over the nightstand staring down at both.

It's a dream, right?

Yes. Yes, it was just a dream. It couldn't be anything else.

That meant the phone was out, as cameras never worked in dreams. The sketchbook, however...

While I couldn't keep the sketch, I could remember the movement of my hand as I drew.

My phone chirped, which was quite odd given I'd had that sucker on silent since 2015. The screen brightened, and as I picked it up, I found myself looking at the lockscreen and the characters on it.

My persona Scarlett Bloodsmoke, who first found her origins in the Tintin RP fanfiction all the way back in 2014. Six years ago to the date. She knelt on white sands next to blue-green waters that sparkled with starlight and nebulas, embracing two dear friends; Thatcher Morgan and Skipper Anders.

Characters who once, in a different universe, went by different names.

Allan Thompson and Tom.

My eyes drifted to the text alert banner, and my nose wrinkled in a scowl as I read Trevor's name at the top.

The contents of his text only deepened my frown.

"May as well get reference sketches for the Caroline even though you sink her!"

Of all the character deaths I concocted, the wreck of the Caroline and all the men who went down with her was probably the one that hit me the hardest. It'd been two years since I drafted the scene, and two years since I'd last read it because it was so painful.

It was also the reason I had my phone thrown at me by two of my friends.

Warranted, honestly.

Thatcher and Skipper had perished in the wreck, something that would haunt both Scarlett and me.

And got me yelled at by my therapist, but it was honestly very deserved.

I looked again out towards the distant cranes as, yet again, a ship's horn echoed off the brick walls like a siren's call.

This was a dream. It had to be. So any pictures or sketches would remain in my consciousness only as I couldn't pull them into the real world. But even so...

Dreams had given me very handy inspiration before.

At the very least, I could update the Caroline's design.

She had her roots in the Karaboudjan anyways, just like Thatcher had his roots in Allan and Skipper had his in Tom.

I scooped the sketchbook up, ready to find some sort of bag to put it in and hope it wouldn't be lost to the void like in some dreams. I'd just... have to concentrate really hard and tap into the lucid side of dreaming to get it back.

If I could even get to the docks before my dream took a right from the left lane as it usually did.

A look in the closet revealed a small black backpack with some golden trim; perfect for a sketchbook and a few pencils.

Once I had tossed them in, I rummaged through the closet. No need to tempt the dream with reasons to turn sour, and wearing something anachronistic would do just that. Luckily, dream-me had a lovely wardrobe of non-decrepit workpants and grey T-Shirts that were luckily opaque enough to hide the black sports bra underneath.

A short run to the bathroom later, where I avoided the mirror behind the open medicine cabinet lest it kick me out of the dream before I could get my research, I took a deep breath and stood before the door.

Please don't wake me up, please don't wake me up.

"Right," I breathed. "Here goes nothing."

Cracking open the door, I found myself at the top of a very familiar staircase leading down to a checkered tile foyer.

No fucking way... I live across from Wonder Boy?

No, that can't be right. How'd I see the shipyard cranes...?

To hell with it.

It's a dream, these things are the norm.

I eagerly headed down the steps, thanking my lucky stars when the door to Tintin's apartment didn't open behind me. Either he wasn't awake yet, or he was already at the market. If I'd even awoken on the first day.

Or maybe he didn't exist, his T-posing character rigging lost beneath the dream map.

The sun warmed my face as I slipped outside, which was a welcome change from the icebox that currently was South Carolina in December.

I scanned the architecture as I headed for the docks, the dream thankfully giving me a built-in homing beacon so I knew which way to go. Even if I favored natural scenes both in writing and in art, I could still appreciate the vibrant colors and colorful façades.

The smells were... surprisingly vivid too for a dream. The blossoming flowers on trees and shrubs thankfully negated some of the 1940s car exhaust, as did the heavenly scent of bread from some nearby bakery.

Definitely smelled better than some of the cities in America, which reeked of diesel fumes, cigarettes, old liquor, and the occasional piss. I avoided them whenever I could, but with my junior year of college looming in the fall, I'd have to bite the bullet and deal with that.

No. No college thoughts in my dream. Sailors only.

It didn't take too long to reach the docks. Once there, I slipped between two warehouses and came out where none other than the Karaboudjan sat moored. Aside from the name stenciled on the bow, I could also recognize her by the faded paint on the superstructure and the rusty hull.

A few men worked near her, moving crates here and there or fiddling with rope. Most sat around on crates talking, though, giving credibility to the movie set designers' claims about the crew being rather lazy under Allan. Doing just the bare minimum to keep the ship functional.

Good grief, Tintin wasn't kidding when he called this a-

"You lost or somethin'?"

I turned quickly, automatically shifting into a cat stance with my leg ready to kick, and locked eyes with a tan-skinned blond man in coveralls and a brown work shirt.

The man quickly took a step back, raising his hands. "Woah! Easy there, son," he said, blue eyes wide.

While a quick up-and-down glance revealed no knife or gun, I only partially lowered my leg in case he lunged for me. "No, not lost. Just... lookin' for a ship to sketch."

He lowered his hands. "A ship, huh?"

You seem... vaguely friendly. Or not hostile at least.

Hopefully, that meant this dream would stay pleasant for a little longer. The linear manner of things surprised me somewhat, as usually it would shift by now and I'd have some new objective, but I wasn't about to complain or question it.

I really should have questioned it.

"Always been fascinated with 'em," I said, making sure no other man was about to jump me. "Is there a spot I'll be out of the way? Ain't lookin' to cause trouble, I just wanna sketch a ship."

Dream or not, I ain't getting in the way. Just let me observe from the shadows.

"You don't sound local," the man asked. "Where are you from?"

What's it to ya?

"The states. Down south."

"Ah. Thought you were a Yank."

My nose wrinkled. "No, Yankees are from above the Mason-Dixon Line."

The man chuckled. "Apologies, then." He gestured towards a stack of crates piled up against the wall in the sun near the edge of the berth where the Karaboudjan sat docked. "Those aren't due to be loaded into tomorrow."

"Thanks! Er, what's your name?"

I always need names for side characters.

"Johnny."

Well, that's not helpful, I already have a soldier!John. Don't need a sailor!John too.

Though, it is funny. Me adding a sailor named Johnny to the Karaboudjan crew in my old fanfics and my dream having one too. Be even funnier if my subconscious plopped me in one of the old fic timelines. Preferably the 2015 version because the original RP timeline is a big fact Y I K E S.

Though... there was the issue of the 2015 remaster never being finished.

"Thanks, Johnny."

He held out a hand to shake. "Happy to help...?"

I accepted the handshake. "Er, Shadow."

It was my online name on most sites, and all my online friends knew me by it anyway.

May as well use it here.

Johnny nodded to me. "Well, Shadow," he said, releasing my hand. "Nice handshake, and best of luck sketchin'."

Dipping my head in thanks, I headed for the pile of crates the long way around to stay out of the main activity hub.

Hopefully, I can stay in this dream long enough to get some good inspiration. Annoying Tom or Allan is preferred, but beggars can't be choosers I guess.

I quickly hopped up to the top, sat down, pulled out my supplies, and got to work. 

[captainx-camino]

Someone commented on an old video recently asking me (genuinely) if one of my speed paints was AI because 1) it was broken up into highlights for TikTok, and 2) I have a very unorthodox sketching process. So, I have decided to show the entire ass backwards way I sketch out the nearly incomprehensible nonsense that my mush brain spits out at me.

To preface, I use Ibis paint x on a cell phone.

I do not have a fancy program like procreate or clip studio, or even a tablet and a lot of how I work has evolved from what I have found works the best for drawing on my tiny, little, shitty phone screen.

That being said....

A speed paint video

To begin, I rarely map faces more than just very basic shapes. (Though, I will admit the structures can get more complex the less comfortable I am with drawing the face.) I usually start with a very basic framework that I implement half from just years of practice in drawing faces and becoming more comfortable with those base shapes, as well as the fact that I'm already aware I will inevitably be over using the liquify pen. Now, I would like to say this is a crutch and I just do it because it's easy, but unfortunately it's actually just because I have fat fingers and a tiny screen (sometimes I can place lines better with my pen but it's still a really small surface to work with) and it's just less of a headache to address the lines with liquify than redoing them a million times or zooming in so close that I lose the rest of the picture.

I will often start with faces because they tend to have the most small details. From there, I will then usually shrink the drawing down and place it about where I think it'll need to be to draw the next part, all while less than strategically erasing the piss poor guidelines I had originally given myself.

SOMETIMES I will save my guides of a second layer in case I might need them later, but that's about as far as I ever plan ahead to be honest...

And we can see that in the next part where after scribbling in a few vague marks for their hair I then IMMEDIATELY regret erasing my head guides and hastily sketch them back in so I can proceed to poorly map out their bodies (most of which I will inevitably be covering up anyway, which I KNEW was going to happen with this one and I cursed myself the entire time). I then fill in where I want all the glorious hair, which fills up the rest of the blank space in the art with fun and interesting shapes and conveys the lore of the AU.

After this, and to take this from a sketch to actual lineart, I will clean up some of the lines on a second layer and keep some of the original sketch features where I like them. This helps me keep the life of the original sketch while also allowing me to clean up the more scratchy lines, which usually produces a pretty nice, clean looking line work.

Should I do a lore drop for my AU next??

Kinda want to...

[fourseasonsfigs]

Building Block Figs - Armory

Following up on the recent sets of building block figs I've been posting, comes one of my absolute favorites!

As I mentioned with the earlier fig sets (Building Block Figs - Beautiful Fight Scene in the Middle of the Lake (Part One, Two, and Coda); Basking in the Sun, Catching Light, and Two Devils), I missed these sets when they first came out, so I've had to pick them all up on Xianyu. With the exception of this set! This one I couldn't get on Xianyu, despite my best efforts. I have only seen it for sale exactly once, and when I tried to buy it, it turned out the listing was only up to draw traffic, and the seller just had one other (vaguely related) set. I was resigned to just keep watching and searching for it and hoping for the best, which was a real pity, because just from the small sales picture I really, really had to have it.

Thankfully! Qilin, the merch wrangler extraordinaire (@88Qilin on Twitter), had bought this set way back in the day, and when she heard I was on the search for more of these sets, was kind enough to check in with me to see if I needed it. AND BOY DID I. She immediately sent it off, and it arrived in record time! She even included some wonderful little extras, that I took a picture of immediately, but for some reason can no longer find. I'll take another pic and add it! In the meantime, I'll add a placeholder:

[Qilin's extra goodies pic goes here]

I was so excited to get this set, I can't even tell you. I feel super, super lucky.

(Fun fact, Qilin is the reason I originally found out about fan made figs in the first place! I saw her post on Twitter (also way back in the day) about the New Year's series of 6 figs, and I absolutely had to have them. I had just reactivated my long-dormant Twitter account to keep up with the fandom, and I was super nervous to message her, thinking she would be like, "who is this total rando messaging me out of nowhere?!" But no, she was super nice, and very helpful, and it was entirely thanks to her I was able to buy the whole set. A minor miracle at the time, trust me, considering how green I was at navigating Weidian back then. If you ever want to buy figs directly, definitely check out her pinned post walkthrough on her Twitter page, it's invaluable information.)

The set came sealed and as usual, in a plain box. Inside there was the same set up as the other sets in this series - a double bagged bag of bricks, the card with the QR code for the online 3-D instructions, and a handy little tool to separate bricks.

The full name of this set is Lao Wen Sacrificed his Life to Save Ah Xu. It measures 8.0 x 5.6 x 12.1 cm, and is rated 10 hours to complete. The "hours to complete" ratings have been extremely accurate to date. But, I was determined to get this set done over this holiday weekend, so hoped that my prior experience on these would serve me well to get it done in record time. So I timed myself!

Here I am getting ready to start. Not a lot of colors, which is typical for these sets. Not too bad looking, huh? You'll notice that unlike the other sets, I didn't carefully pre-sort out all the pieces by size and shape. I simply sorted by color and left them in big piles like this, in a bid to shave off even more time. I was a bit curious if it would be faster to hunt-and-peck through each pile for the right bricks, or if sorting them was about the same. Given that it took about an hour to sort through the larger sets, I decided to roll the dice here.

The directions informed me there were 184 steps in this set. Not too bad! I sat down, put on my headphones, cranked up some music, and got started.

I finished the first little block just as fast as could be. I was flying! I was so proud of myself. It was a holiday weekend, the morning was bright and sunny, and I was having a grand old time.

The next step was to add a second base square in, and then a third and fourth. I added in the second base and kept on flying through it. And then...I ran out of a white brick in the largest size.

Which is kind of impossible. Each of these sets has extras of all the bricks - quite a few, actually. So I searched through the white pile a couple extra times, and sat there and wondered what was going on. As you know, I have lots of spare bricks from the previous sets, so it would be easy enough to pull the right one out, but this shouldn't be happening.

So I was like, wait a minute. I looked back at the phone directions for the step I was on, and said, hold on, I don’t see the character 白 for white anywhere. Uh oh. I Google Translated the characters that were there and sure enough, 透明 meant transparent.

I had just been going off the colors on the phone screen, and I mean, come on! The bricks looked white! If you scroll up and look at it, don't you think so too?

Anyway.

So, I pulled off all the white bricks, and replaced them with transparent bricks, and hey, what do you know, I had plenty of them.

Alright, alright, so this happens when you don't speak the language. Never fear, I'm back on track!

Dear friends, I was not back on track.

Sometime in all this confusion, I had spun around my little base square around, so when I attached it to the other base squares, I started filling in the top bricks the wrong way around. Luckily, I realized what I was doing after a few steps in, and I didn't have to totally reassemble it like I did with the Not White But Transparent Brick Debacle of early 2024. I just gently disconnected the base squares from each other, turned them around, and kept going.

So! I finished the first layer 1 hour, 46 minutes in. This, of course, includes the one major mistake and the one minor mistake. It's pretty big, isn't it? The other fig sets only had max 2 base squares, so I was pretty excited to see how nice and big this was. The transparent bricks look nice, huh?

I took a bit of a break. Made a little bit of lunch, tidied up a bit, and then came back excited to tackle the next round.

I was paying attention to the names of the brick colors at this point, believe me.

I finished the next layer 2 hours and 54 minutes in. Pretty cool looking, isn't it? It looks like some kind of disk in an alien language. I must admit when I got here, I was both quite happy and also a little concerned. Only layer 2? Still 138 layers to go, and it's been about 3 hours?

Well, no big deal if it took me longer, really. I was having a good time, and there was no actual rush. I will say that at this point, my finger tips were certainly feeling the constant pressing and snapping of the bricks. They had actually toughened up back when I was doing set after set after set, but it had been some time, and my fingertips were back to their usual soft selves.

Luckily for my fingers, I had errands to run and other things to do, so my sore little fingertips got a needed break.

The next morning, I was up and back at it!

The third layer was starting to look like the actual base of the platform from the show. I was pretty excited to finish this layer, I have to say. I took little breaks here and there, but I was pretty determined to make some real progress.

By that evening, I had gotten pretty far. I stopped here at 6 hours and 3 minutes.

I was inordinately pleased by getting to this step. I could see the robes carefully spread out here, just like the show, and their hands out there. There was also a little bit of white where I was starting Lao Wen's new hair color.

You can tell the passage of time by how the light keeps changing in each of these pictures! I always end with the bricks for the step I'm on laid out in front of me, so I always know where I am when I pick the set back up. My memory is just too bad otherwise, I'll forget what I'm doing.

Well, 3-day holiday weekends don't last forever, so I woke up this morning determined to finish this. There was a little bit of race against the clock today, since I had appointments I had to take care of, and I needed to have enough light left to take final pictures. So, I sat down, and started going as fast as I could.

At 7 hours and 6 minutes, I had built up the bodies, and was on to the heads. I hurried through my afternoon errands and got back around 3:10 pm. The sun sets here around 4:20, so I didn't have much time. Tomorrow I get on a plane, so it really was up against the clock! I didn't even put my headphones on this time, I just sat down and focused.

But, it turns out that I didn't need that much time. 45 minutes later, I was done!

Total hours clocked in at 7 hours and 51 minutes. I will tell you, I was indeed flying through this set - all those other fig sets that I made mistakes on definitely helped me. I knew what I was doing, and I went fast. If this had been my first set, or even my second (ok, let's be real, even my third), it would 100% have taken me at least the full 10 hours. It also helped that other than Big Error 1 and Small Error 1, I didn't make any other mistakes.

You can see how many bricks are left (which is why I knew something was up when I ran out of that white brick earlier). I will say that not pre-sorting the bricks is definitely the way to go - it's pretty easy to pick out the right ones, and certainly saves a lot of time just organizing them into piles.

Alright! Let's do some beauty shots, shall we? As you know, the light wasn't super great, but it was good enough!

Oops, I see I need to press down a little on Lao Wen's head to get the bricks firmly squeezed together. I'll admit my aching fingertips were not pressing down super hard at this point!

I really love the 3-D effect of the icicles ringing the platform. This set is just fantastic!

It's a little hard to see A-Xu's luxurious mane of hair here with the black on black, but it's quite nice.

Lao Wen's closed eyes! Please also note the little white underlayer on his robes here at his neck. So cute.

This is a nice angle to see A-Xu's married hair bun (minus one hairpin, of course) and Lao Wen's loop of hair.

This angle is the coup de grâce of this whole set for me. For the longest time, I thought the single bricks was his eyes and the marks down his cheeks were tears, but in reality I think the larger bricks are his eyes, and the smaller bricks are his eyebrows going up in shock and horror. But all I can see are (non canonically accurate) tears free flowing down his cheeks!

I did waste several minutes at the point I was building this just contemplating his face, and I was THIS close to subbing in the light blue for to make tears after all, because (sorry A-Xu) I find it delightfully hilarious. Little Lego tears! I can't even. But, I decided to go with the actual design for this so you could see it (and go back and replace them afterwards).

Ahem. Anyway. This is also a beautiful shot to see Lao Wen's long white hair draping over his shoulders.

More of the snow and icicles all the way around. It looks great.

Seriously, don't you think they look like tears? Right, anyway. This actually isn't a bad angle to admire the modeling on the clothing.

And we're back around. The modeling really is beautiful on this, with their robes carefully spread out behind them and to the sides of them.

Time for some closeups:

Aww, Lao Wen.

Aww, A-Xu, honey.

The bottoms-up angle was really hard to get on this set, since the base was so large.

The top down angle looks great I think. This is actually the first time that I'm noticing they have the scroll underneath them.

Honestly, I'm so impressed with this set. With only 9 colors, and some very basic building block shapes, they did a gorgeous job rendering this scene.

With my last picture, in the last of my fading light, here's my two sets of armory figs re-enacting this scene. The closest set is actually from the New Year's set of of 6 that Qilin helped me buy back in the day, so this really is full circle!

I couldn't quite get my camera to focus on both sets, but you can see the relative size difference at least. It's a big set!

Alright, these are the last of these sets for a while - there's two more sets of two single figures each, but I have not been able to locate them on Xianyu either. I'm ok with it though - this is the last of the big scene sets, and one I really, really wanted. The others are nice but not quite as special as the sets.

Thanks for the figthusiasts friends that have accompanied me on these building block fig posts! They're all quite long, so I appreciate you reading all my thoughts and experiences with these. I absolutely love them - they were a ton of fun, and I only wish I had more! I'd love to enact out the entire series with building block scenes - can you imagine?

Material: Plastic building blocks

Fig Count: 520

Scene Count: 37

Rating: Pure love

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