#chican@

[meglm]

I don't know why but this scene tickled me so much i needed to spend a week making a 3 page comic about it

Shout out to everyone who guessed that it was Billy they were looking at!

[pichirobi]

the pine guard! 🌲

[justmaizey]

quiet nights at the cryptonomica

[indio-politics]

passages from my sociology textbook discussing colonial and Native American gender and sexuality as well as the terms Chicano/a Latino/a Latinx with regard to gender and grammar.

[belleski]

this is one of my favourite scenes in all of Taz and i've wanted to draw something for it for ages now but then this took almost 6 months to finish because i had to keep stopping to figure out character designs aaaaaaaaaa

Indrid Cold my favourite guy of all time

Image description: A two page digital comic depicting a scene from The Adventure Zone – Amnesty where the player characters (Duck, Ned and Aubrey) meet Indrid Cold (the mothman.) The entire comic is drawn in shades of red with yellow highlights. Page 1: A smaller panel shows the interior of a camper van, with Indrid cast in shadows, reaching towards a scrap of paper on the wall. Behind him, Duck, Ned and Aubrey watch in confusion. The next panel is of Indrid from behind, silhouetted against the bright red of the wall holding dozens of pinned sheets over a map of Kepler. He is holding up the now removed scrap of paper in one hand and smiling, the yellow paper and his glasses standing out against the darkness. There is a yellow speech bubble coming from him that says ‘Okay.’ The last panel takes up most of the page and shows Duck, Ned and Aubrey reacting in shock to Indrid’s statement. The speech bubbles continue: ‘The funicular that connects topside and riverside is about to come crashing down the mountain, slamming into town, and destroying the base station.’. Behind the three players, there is a funicular train climbing a mountain – the full scale of which is shown behind it. Page two: Yellow text in the top left and right corners reads: ‘There are three passengers on it right now, they’ll all be killed- With two circular panels depicting three people on the funicular in one, and a man reading a newspaper in the other – his radio discarded on the table in front of him. Below these panels the text continues, first in yellow with: ‘-and an engineer at the base station will be injured as well, but he’ll pull through.’ And then in two red circular speech bubbles: ‘Good news though! You have six minutes this time.’ The two red speech bubbles surround Indrid as he faces the viewer with a grin, his eyes completely obscured by his red circular glasses. In one hand, he holds out the scrap of paper – a drawing of a funicular train falling down a mountain now visible on it, and behind him the wall is covered in scraps of paper that fade into the darkness of the background. [End ID]

[postracehair]

chicane

max verstappen x reader | 1.6k

you tell max you love him for the first time. accidentally.

cw: r is drunk but happy, max is charming and tipsy, being silly and in love, love confessions

a/n: this came to me while i was taking a drunk shower.

--

You're drunk and tonight was perfect.

The late-night lights of the city rush by as you get closer and closer to your hotel, the cab driver content to turn the radio up a little more as you ramble in the back seat.

"It's just so nice that they all wanted to celebrate you," you say. "And for that one guy to buy us all drinks 'cause he's a fan! Oh, look, Max, that one is so pretty."

Max dutifully agrees and gently keeps you from pressing your nose to the glass with an arm around your shoulders. He's less drunk than you are, though he probably had just as many drinks. After his remarkable win today you're glad he let loose. He deserves it. You think he deserves everything, but a night out with the team and his friends and some free drinks is a good start.

And, god, he looks so good like this. Cheeks flushed, hair a little sweaty and tousled from his hands and yours, shirt open a button or two lower than his usual. You abandon the window and look at him instead, watching lights you were so focused on color his face and make his eyes shine.

You're so proud of him.

He laughs. "Thank you, liefje." Oh, did you say that out loud? The hand not twisted in the strap of your top squeezes your knee. He keeps his eyes on your face, mouth curled into a soft half-smile like he can't help but be fond of you.

The cab driver says you're just about there and Max pulls away from you to hand him some cash and a thought hits you full-force, louder in your head than the rush of his car across the finish line earlier today.

You love him.

Did you say that out loud, too? No, no. He gives no indication of having heard you so you don't think so. But the realization fills you with awe, with lightness, with joy. You laugh to yourself and Max shoots you an amused glance. You'll tell him, probably. At some point. But for now it's like the best kind of secret, new and exciting.

Max slides out of the cab first and holds a hand out for you. Beaming at him, you take it and don't let go as he tugs you up through the hotel doors and across the lobby to the elevators.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

It's like a song in your mind that syncs with the beat of your heart. You probably have for months, now. Maybe even as soon as you met him. How could you not? He's so good to you. Kind, patient, gentle. Funny, generous, intuitive. Quick to own up to his mistakes, willing to apologize when he's in the wrong. He's taught you so much about communication and healthy boundaries, about hard work and discipline.

Max says your name, pulling out of your lovesick musings. "Do I have something on my face?" he asks you, wearing his signature amused smirk and raised brow. You've been staring at him. The elevator arrives and you pull him into it, hitting your floor number and then the close button as quick as you can.

"No," you say, cheerily. "You're just handsome."

He rolls his eyes but welcomes you into his space, steadying you with a hand on your hips as you press your lips to his in the solitude of the elevator. It's a near miss -- you manage to catch the corner of his mouth, but Max redirects you easily for a proper kiss, slotting your lips together perhaps a little sloppily but it's exactly what you wanted.

A robotic voice announces your floor and Max pulls away first, pressing one more chaste kiss to your mouth before threading your fingers together and leading you down the hall to your room.

"Did you have fun tonight?" you ask him. He waves his room key in front of the pad and it lights up green.

"I did," he says, holding the door open for you to sneak under his arm. "Did you?"

You kick off your shoes and look around your shared room. Clothes draped on chairs, your suitcases lined up next to each other on the luggage racks. Max's laptop and meeting notes on the desk, the book you bought at the airport. It makes that feeling in your chest swell even more. You want to share space with him for the rest of your life.

"Yeah," you say. "I always have fun with you, Max."

He snorts at your enthusiasm but allows it, toeing off his sneakers and sitting heavily on the bed. You stand between his knees automatically and card both hands through his hair. He leans back on his palms and closes his eyes, chin tipped up. You could do this for hours, probably. It's always worth seeing him relax, let his walls down. Even when you're out with everyone on a night like tonight, blissfully loose and celebrating, you know he's not quite who he is when it's just the two of you. It's Max's nature to have these masks. They protect him.

But you protect him, too. You let him be himself.

"Are you hungry?" he finally asks, words slurring just the smallest bit. Probably from your fingers on his scalp more than the alcohol, really. "Want me to order some room service?"

It's the best idea you've ever heard and you tell him so. "Fries, maybe?" you suggest. "Oh, and a Diet Coke. For sure. And ice cream!"

"Okay, okay," he laughs, sitting up again and grabbing your wrists so he can kiss both of your palms. "Go shower and I'll call down."

"Shower!" you gasp, your drunkenness making your enthusiasm impossible to contain. "Such a good idea. You're so smart, Max."

He laughs, a bright, boyish sound. You would bottle it up if you could.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

This time it slips out.

"I love you," you say, beaming, without a second thought. "Wow, I can't wait to eat some fries."

You're so excited about this turn of events that you don't register his reaction, don't realize what you've confessed. You just head for the bathroom, grabbing your sleep clothes on the way and humming to yourself.

It's not until you're rinsing the fancy hotel body wash from your skin that you hear your own words in your ears.

You told Max you love him.

The water is warm but you shiver. "Oh god," you whisper to yourself.

Obviously you meant it. That's not the problem. It's just not really how you wanted to say it -- drunk after a night out celebrating his race win, thanking him for ordering you some 1am room service. Max deserves romance. You should have waited for a dinner date, or a night at his place this week, whispered it while you're both wrapped up in his sheets.

But now he knows. And does he feel the same?

You turn off the spray and wrap yourself in one of the huge, fluffy bath towels. He probably does, right? He certainly shows it. Even if he doesn't want to say it just yet you can feel it. In the way he looks at you, the way he looks after you. In his touches, the innocent ones and the not-so-innocent ones, in his gaze and the way he says your name like it's something precious.

He loves you. You're sure of it. You just feel a little silly about the whole thing.

You dry off and slip into your comfies. When you open the bathroom door you find Max tugging off his shirt, clearly planning to hop in the shower, too.

"Food should be here any minute," he says. "They had a few kinds of ice cream, so I got them all."

He turns to you and smiles so wide you feel your cheeks heat. He just looks so happy.

"I was going to tease you a bit," he says fondly, crossing the room to stand in front of you. "About what you said before you went into the shower. But right now you just look so --"

"What, Max?" you ask, pouting a little. He's teasing you plenty, in your opinion.

"Cute," he finishes. "Liefje, you look like a raccoon."

You must look confused because he scrunches his nose at you and cups your face, thumbs swiping at the skin under your eyes. He shows you them, black mascara flecks dotting the pads of them.

"Oh," you say. "Whoops."

"I love you," Max says. "I should have led with that."

Your hands rest on his bare chest of their own accord, feeling the solid warmth of him you know so well. His heart beats steadily under your palm. As sure as his feelings for you.

"Really?" you breathe. You can't help it. Even though you believe him, even though it's not really a surprise, a reflexive sense of doubt swells in your throat. Can life really be this good? Can you have someone who loves you, someone who takes care of you, someone as good and kind as Max?

His brows furrow for just a second before he clearly surmises that you're just drunk and starry-eyed.

"Really," he echoes. He kisses you just once, soft and sure. "I'm going to shower. Leave some fries for me?"

You nod dutifully. "Obviously," you say. "You get some of my fries because I love you."

There's that laugh again -- unguarded, transforming his whole face.

"I'm a lucky guy," he says.

[vivitalks]

ned chicane is sooo character. he's a skilled burglar but he's broke, he's a sensationalist and a cryptozoologist, he's a pathological liar who's just as persuasive when he's telling the truth as not, he refuses to harm a fellow human being, he runs a terrible and weirdly popular late-night TV show, he constantly tries to protect a town that does not return the favor, he is canonically in possession of george clooney's oscar, he's a self-declared coward who will always put himself in harm's way if it means protecting his friends, he has multiple fake IDs and passports and no one knows his legal name, he's the smartest dumbass you've ever met, he takes a bullet for dani as penance because hurting aubrey was his greatest regret even before they knew each other and he can't hurt her again, he can't let anyone get hurt again, he will not let someone else die because of him. he will not.

[quiddling]

you just hear the wind, and you just see the stars above you. they are beautiful... and then they’re gone. (redraw of this one)

[allynabean]

Comic adaptation of a scene from Episode 3 of The Adventure Zone: Amnesty!! Re-listened to Amnesty while drawing these pages and I forgot how much I love this campaignnn

Script taken near-directly from the podcast, all credit goes to the McElroys! <3 @mcelroyfamilystaff

[duck-newton]

when merle highchurch said “at the end of the day all you’ve got is the joy you gave other people” and when ned chicane said “I want you to focus all your hatred on me to free up all the love in that big, remarkable heart of yours for the rest of the world” and when emerich dreadway said “let’s keep at it, being kind to one another.”

[meglm]

Im working on a TAZ: Amnesty comic, because ive just re-listened to it and it reminded me how much I loved drawing the pine guard peeps

20 bucks to the first person who can guess what they are looking at

[m0nomercy]

She shouts your name and she shouts something else but you just can't hear it anymore. You just hear the wind. And you just see the stars above you. They are beautiful … and then they're gone

ned chicane :((

[coolattas]

kablamnesty doodle. who cheered (click 4 higher res)

[mello-hello]

What fucks me up about Neds death is he didn't have any reason to be there. Duck and Aubrey were fated or whatever to go to Sylvain and get wrapped up in all this but Ned just happened to see barclay in the forest, accidentally hit the gate with his car that night, anything had changed and Ned would have lived because he never would have met Aubrey and Duck. He wouldn't have died thinking everyone hated him. But then Ned wouldn't have been loved. There'd be no Statue of Ned, no "Last Episode of Saturday Night Dead" playing, Aubrey and Ned wouldn't have found a family in each other. Im gonna be sick about this arc. Ned Chicane the character ever.

[belleski]

an easy drawing while i try to get back on my feet after uni, i wanted to figure out their designs for a comic idea

[Image description] A digital illustration of Ned Chicane, Duck Newton and Aubrey Little from the adventure zone . Ned is a tall man with pale skin and shaggy long grey hair, as well as a beard and prominent mustache. He is wearing a blue suit over a pink striped shirt with red dress shoes. He's got a Ouija board tucked under his arm and a large walking stick crossed over his shoulder. Hes looking to the right with a pained smile. Above him there is text that reads 'thinking about house fires' with an arrow pointing towards him. Standing to his right is Duck, a man with tanned skin and greying brown hair and an weary looking expression. He is wearing a green and tan park rangers uniform and is holding a finger up to the blaring fire held in Aubrey's hand directly next to him. The text pointing towards him reads 'Thinking about forest fires. Aubrey is holding up a fire is her hand with a somewhat maniacal, but triumphant expression. Aubrey is a black woman with dreadlocks dyed bright red. Shes wearing a black jacket with fire detailing over a red shirt, as well as black shorts,leggings and boots. Pointing towards her, the text box read 'Thinking about fire(s)' End ID