#does it count even though it's a crappy sketch???

[stinkystinker1000]

Woahhh I did NOT expect my stupid little drawings to gain THAT much traction

Needless to say, I am extremely grateful for your support! And the tapes!

I promise I've got some shellyvision in the oven, it's just taking a bit of a while to bake..

For now though, have an assortment of some art I've made during my freetime as a thanks!

*explodes into confetti*

[newsies-and-the-nutcracker]

Theatre Banter

Summery: The theatre scene between Katherine and Jack, but from Les and Davey’s point of view.

Ships: Kind of Jatherine? None other than that, though. Unless you count the Davey and Les brotherly content I’ve provided for y’all.

I feel like my acc pic is this piece of crappy writing in a nutshell lol

I watched as Jack left Miss Medda just after she’d announced the Bowery Beauties, and started towards a box on the side of the theatre.

“Hey!” Les exclaimed. “Where’s Jack goin’?”

“Quiet down, would you?” I demanded, slapping a hand over his mouth. “I don’t know about Jack. Maybe Miss Medda asked him to do something for her.”

“I think there’s someone else up in that box,” he commented, eyes fixed on Jack’s every movement.

I looked up, and sure enough, he was right. A female with auburn hair was seated next to where Jack was standing, currently throwing an annoyed look at her - I assumed - uninvited guest. “Yeah, it’s a girl. Oh, that poor girl…”

“It looks like she likes him,” Les declared, watching as she over-exaggeratedly gestured to the audience.

“Eh...” I grimaced slightly in opposition.

At this point, Les had completely forgotten about the current act, and now seemed to be fully invested in Jack’s failed attempts to win over that girl’s heart. Who was, by the way, tilting back slightly as Jack leant against the railing of the box, slowly trying to close the distance between the two. I could see his lips moving, but I couldn’t make out what was being said.

That was until the redhead suddenly shot up from her seat, fists clenched tightly. “Do you mind?!”

“Man, Jack really knows how to pick up all the ladies!” Les said in admiration as the blue-clad newsboy was scolded by Miss Medda.

“Unfortunately for him,” I muttered, “I don’t think his so-called charms will work on her. Also, you should really think about getting a new role model.”

But my brother continued to ignore me as Jack stared at the girl wistfully, before grabbing a newspaper out of his sack, surprising me. I figured he was going to try to sell it to her. He then took out a pencil and started to draw on the paper, surprising me even more. He was really willing to lose even an extra penny, just so he could draw?

“I think he’s picturing her!” Les exclaimed in excitement, causing me to have to shush him once again. Looking back up, it did seem like it was her he was sketching out, if the constant glances at her were anything to go by.

He must have been very smitten with the girl.

“Yeah, maybe he is.” I placed a hand on Les’ shoulder, causing him to gaze up at me.

“I should paint as a job!” He bounced on the balls of his feet.

“Calm down,” I ordered. “You’re nine. Even Jack doesn’t paint as a job. He’s a Newsie, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“I know that.” Les rolled his eyes, as if I was the younger brother who knew nothing. “I just think it’d be a cool job, don’t you? Jack likes it!”

I chuckled, ruffling his hair. “We’ll see. You need a lot of patience to be an artist, though.”

“What does pa-tience mean?” Les asked, cocking his head to the side.

I fought back a smile and sighed. “Well, you need patience to sit in front of a canvas or something like that for a long time. It means you don’t get… restless while doing the painting. Well, not for a bit, at least.”

“Oh.” He furrowed his brows. “Will being an artist make girls get flustered?”

“More like disturbed,” I grumbled under my breath.

“What?”

“I’m not sure,” I said instead, louder this time, laughing nervously. “Maybe if you drew them, it would. You’d have to ask for their permission, though.”

Les seemed to take that into consideration, before glancing back at the pair in the box. “Hey, look! Jack’s coming down now!”

I followed his gaze, seeing that Jack was indeed heading down from the box. I also noticed the girl pick up the paper he left behind, before looking up in disbelief.

I guess drawing them did get them feeling flustered.

Les was already heading for the boy by the time I’d snapped out of my thoughts. I closed my eyes and exhaled for a long moment, before going after him.

“Is she your girl?” Les was asking, pointing up at the said female.

“Deep, deep down in her heart, she wishes she was,” Jack replied, sounding sure of himself. “I think she secretly enjoyed my company, in my humble opinion.”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

“She was all over ya,” my brother gushed, praising him. “Can ya teach me how to get-”

He wasn’t able to finish as my hand covered his mouth, punctuating his incomplete request. “We really should be getting home, now. I don’t want our folks getting worried…”

Jack blinked. “Yes, dat’s right. Well, I won’t make ya stay. See da two a’ ya tomorrow, huh?”

“If nothing happens,” I agreed. I quickly learnt that I probably shouldn’t have said exactly that as he frowned, and asked what could possibly happen.

“He’s just overthinkin’ things again,” Les brushed him off, causing me to look down at him in bewilderment. He then said in a lower tone, “it’s one of the side effects of bein’ smart.”

“Not true,” I denied, feeling embarrassed at the fact that even my little brother knew of my tendency to overthink things. “I just... like being prepared for any situation out there.”

“Ah, loosen up, Davey.” Jack pointed his chin towards me. “Nuthin’s gonna happen, so quit yer worryin’.”

I grunted somewhat at that. “See ya, Jack.”

He waved, before walking off. “See ya Davey, Les.”

Maybe getting closer to the newsies wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

[redgillan]

Missed Chances - Part 7

Steve Rogers x Reader ♀️ [// Bucky Barnes x Reader for now]

Summary: 13 Going on 30!AU - Steve Rogers is crazy about you, but he’s afraid his feelings are only one sided and being one of your best friends, he doesn’t want to ruin your friendship… On his 13th birthday, he makes a wish and wakes up in the body of his 30 year old self. The problem is, you’re no longer a part of his life.

Word Count: 3,005

Warnings: The creep is back

A/N: No, this series isn’t dead. In this chapter the reader and Steve discuss her wedding dress and I really wanted to give you a dress you could picture in your heads. So that meant doing a lot of research to find a cut that would flatter all body types and a colour that would look good on all skin tones. It kind of smothered my muse, hence the long break. I hope you enjoy this :’)

“You fell asleep on his couch,” Sam repeated, shaking his head with a bewildered look on his face. A second later, he began laughing hysterically.  

Bucky looked around the bar, smiling awkwardly at the patrons who were staring at them. With a cringe, he took a large gulp of his lukewarm beer. Sam expertly dodged the peanut Bucky threw at him.

“Okay, let me get this straight.” Sam stopped laughing. “You drank two bottles of fancy-ass wine, passed out on the couch and let your girl alone with a super-hot billionaire.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much what happened,” Bucky grumbled.

“You’re an idiot.”

Bucky couldn’t help but agree with him.

Sam was Bucky’s only friend. They had met a few years ago when Bucky was a rotisseur, a chef in charge of roasted meats. Sam kept sending his dish back, saying it wasn’t properly cooked, until Bucky had enough and served him raw lamb with a little note that said ‘cook it yourself’.

It hadn’t been professional, but it had made him feel a lot better. Somehow they became friends after that. Go figure...  

“You could have married her three years ago,” Sam continued with a pointed look.

“A City Hall wedding?” Bucky scoffed. “No, she deserves better than that.”

Sam frowned at him. “You need to get off your high horse, man. I got married at City Hall. Granted it’s less flamboyant than a fairy tale wedding, but it doesn’t matter when you’re in love. You only need each other.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I work 12 hours a day, six days a week, Sam. We rarely see each other and we live in a crappy studio apartment. The least I can do is give her a perfect wedding.”

“Whatever you say,” Sam shrugged. He was tired of having the same conversation again and again. “That deal you made with her company... I told you it was too good to be true.”

“You said it was legit,” Bucky reminded him.

“Yeah, it is, but I don't think you've thought this through. They offered to pay for your wedding if Steve Rogers agreed to create your girl’s wedding dress. Rogers said yes, and now their numbers are going up-”

“But it’s a good thing. She’ll keep her job and we’ll get married,” Bucky interrupted him.

“Dude, there’s a billboard in Times Square with your face on it,” Sam continued, undeterred. Bucky whined, he had seen the ad. It wasn’t exactly low-key. “You three are everywhere; Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Youtube... Rogers gave interviews to Good Morning America, Fallon and Ellen. The entire country knows about you, your fiancée and your former childhood best friend turned superstar.”

“You’re right, it’s a little crazy right now,” Bucky admitted. “But it won’t last. People will find a better story. She’s happy. That’s all that matters.”

Sam could have argued that you didn’t look happy the last time he saw you. In fact, you looked tired, stressed and a little disappointed. But he knew better than to tell a man he couldn’t make his girlfriend happy.

“I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

Bucky had no idea what he was doing. Things had been crazy lately, and he couldn’t deny that it was strange to share his thoughts and memories with complete strangers. It was part of the deal. Nothing was private anymore.

“A girl asked for my autograph yesterday,” Bucky revealed, a small smile on his lips. Sam raised a brow at that. “It took me completely by surprise, I just wrote ‘BUCKY’ in capital letters on a blank piece of paper.”

Sam choked on his beer, and coughed several times as the liquid fizzed out of his nose. Bucky pushed a napkin across the bar as Sam’s whole face scrunched up in a mix of pain and laughter.

“That fucking hurts,” Sam said, his eyes shiny with tears. Bucky looked strangely proud of himself. “You’re gonna kill me one day.”

With a mouthful of beer, Bucky got off the stool and threw two twenties on the counter. He took his jacket from the bar and made a show of crossing his fingers at Sam’s comment.

“Ass,” Sam countered, following him out of the bar.

*

Today was the day, your first Bridal appointment. You were beyond nervous, and the fact that this was all business wasn’t helping your nerves. Natasha was sitting next to you, typing away on her tablet while on the phone with Nick Fury. You wished you were that good at multitasking.

Things were moving fast. Natasha had already booked a band, and hired a photographer and a videographer. You were on board with everything, and even pitched the idea of a karaoke entertainment at the reception. She called you a genius and wrote it in her little notebook.

The magazine was thriving, the numbers growing. The first article they published was an exclusive interview of Steve Rogers and a little interview of you and Bucky –to get to know the happy couple.

The following month they revealed that the ceremony would take place at Bucky’s childhood home. It was something you had both agreed upon a long time ago, and Nick thought it matched the whole reunion theme.

Sometimes it felt like it was more their wedding than yours, but you thought I’d be rude to complain since they were paying for the entire ceremony.

“M. Rogers will see you now,” Steve’s assistant appeared before you, pulling you out of your thoughts.

Natasha waved Scott closer. He was standing near the elevator, FaceTiming with his daughter. He saw Natasha, nodded, and quickly wrapped up his conversation. The three of you followed the assistant to Steve’s office.

As soon as Natasha stepped into his office, she began directing everyone into position. Scott and you got so used to being bossed around that you both complied without question.

“Boys, move the couch closer to the window,” she said, looking around the office. “I prefer natural light for the pictures.” Then she turned to you. “This place is a mess, let’s tidy up.”

Steve grumbled something under his breath that made Scott laugh. Natasha gave him a sharp look and they both returned to their task. Once the place looked decent enough, you took a seat on the sofa next to Steve.

Natasha was telling Scott what to do –the kind of pictures she wanted for the Instagram, Twitter and Facebook as well as some pictures for the next article. Scott nodded while he adjusted the camera settings.

“Is she always like this?” Steve whispered in your ear.

A shiver ran down your spine. “Yes, she’s the boss,” you replied with a small laugh.

“She’s scary.”

You were both laughing quietly when you heard the sound of a camera shutter. Steve shifted awkwardly as he met your gaze, his face flushed red. You understood his discomfort.

“A little warning would have been nice,” you told your co-workers.

“Sorry, but the picture looks great,” Scott said, giving you a thumbs up.

“All right, we only have an hour so listen carefully,” Natasha began. “We’re going to take a few pictures and two can pretend you’re working on the dress. Act natural, but don’t forget to smile and don’t look at us. Then we’ll leave you two alone so you can start working on the dress. Questions?”

You both shook your heads. “No, we’re good.”

“Perfect,” she clapped her hands once, “let’s get to work!”

It was a little strange to pose without making it look like you were posing. Natasha was shouting directions at you and Steve while you tried to smile at each other.

Sit straight!

Steve, you’re hiding her face.

Hold that position, the light is perfect.

Finally, after twenty agonizing minutes, she announced that she had everything she needed. You sent up a silent prayer when she left the room. Scott packed up his camera and hurried out of the room when Natasha called out his name.

You slumped back against the sofa and sighed. Steve let out a small laugh as he sank into the cushions. He turned his head to look at you and smiled.

His smile caught you off guard. In that moment, he looked exactly like the boy you used to love and it made your chest tighten painfully. Life could be so cruel sometimes.

“We should probably start working on your dress,” he said, sensing your sudden anguish. He straightened up and fiddled with the sketch pad and mechanical pencil, giving you some time to pull yourself together. “So, do you have an idea of what you’re looking for?”

You sat on the edge of your seat. “Not really. I don’t know how these things work. How are we going to do this?”

Steve was only thirteen, though he looked like he was in his early thirties. He didn’t know anything about fashion, but it was his job and he had to do it right. He had gathered as much information as he possible on Bridal appointments. Internet, so helpful!

“We can look at some wedding dresses,” he told you, sliding a few magazines toward you. “Tell me what you like and I’ll make a sketch. Then my team will make a muslin. It’s just a mock-up. We’ll add the details later. How does that sound?”

He caught your eyes and saw the look of relief on your face. “Sounds great.”

You slowly flipped through the pages of the first magazine, pausing occasionally to show him what you didn’t like. You didn’t want to wear a crinoline, it made the skirt too poofy. The princess style looked beautiful on these models but you didn’t think it matched your personality, and it seemed really unpractical.

Steve listened carefully, jotting down notes in his notebook. “How do you feel about a mermaid-style dress? Remember when your mom took us to the open air theatre? We saw the Little Mermaid and you said it was the best movie you’d ever seen.”

“Yeah.” You giggled. “We were what? Nine, ten years old?”  

“Something like that,” Steve replied with a fond smile.

“Well, I hate to disappoint my nine-year-old self, but I think I’d prefer something a little more like the Muses in Hercules.” You turned the page, only to be distracted by a stunning gown. “Like this one!”

The dress fit closely, hugging the model’s curves in an elegant yet sensual way. It looked right out of a peplum movie.

“Oh yeah, that’s a um...” Steve closed his eyes shut and tried to remember the name of this particular type of dress. “It’s a sheath column dress!” he exclaimed with a huge triumphant smile.

“I like that,” you said, oblivious to his sudden outburst. “Do you think it’d look good on me?”

“Absolutely,” he said a little too quickly, then he cleared his throat and gave you a sheepish smile. “We have your measurements, it will look perfect.”

You made some modifications to the dress in the magazine. With Steve’s help, you chose a boat neckline instead of the heart shape neckline featured on the model.

You hesitated between two colours; alabaster which according to Steve would look good on anyone, and diamond white which was the perfect colour for an outdoor wedding.

“Silk is a good choice,” Steve approved while he finished his sketch. “You might be a little cold though, but we’ll figure something out.”

“Oh, don’t bother,” you said with a wave of your hand, “Natasha has already ordered ten outdoor heaters. It’ll feel like we’re on a tropical island.” Your laughter died in your throat when Steve showed you what your dress would look like. “Steve... that’s.... wow.”

He looked at his drawing with furrowed brows. “I think I messed up the proportions but-”

“It’s gorgeous,” you interrupted him. “I love it!” You took the sketch pad from him to get a better look. This was your dress. Your wedding dress. It all seemed so real now, it made the butterflies in your stomach dance. “So, it’s happening. In six months I’m going to be Mrs Barnes.”

“You can keep your last name,” Steve shrugged. He had been working so hard lately to pass off as a real fashion designer that he had almost forgotten you were going to marry Bucky. He fought against the urge to rip that stupid drawing in half.

“I know,” you said, “it’s just... a little weird, but in a good way.”

A knock at the door made you both jump. Natasha and Scott were back, and judging by the look on Natasha’s face, she must have received some good news.

“We posted that picture of the two of you giggling,” Scott said with a big smile. “People on Instagram are so kinky. You guys should read some of the comments, they’re priceless.”

“Scott,” Natasha said, her tone warning him to drop it.

“It’s crazy, some people even ship you two together. They want you to marry Mr America. That’s his nickname, Mr America! How cool is that?!”

Oh, that couldn’t be good... You really hoped Bucky wouldn’t read these comments. He wasn’t a big fan of social media, and he was too busy to even open the app. Though Sam would definitely call him if he read anything that seemed a little odd.

“Is that the dress?” Natasha asked as she picked up the sketch pad. Her eyes widened for a second before she smiled at Steve. “It’s beautiful. I look forward to seeing it on the bride.”

Steve’s secretary entered the room and informed him that his next appointment had arrived. He shook hands with Natasha and Scott, then turned to you, smiling hesitantly. A handshake seemed too formal, but he wasn’t sure you’d let him hug you.

He opened his arms to you and cocked his head to one side in silent question. You found his bashfulness endearing. He looked so young. You took a step forward to hug him.

“Thank you, Steve, for everything,” you said, making sure Natasha and Scott couldn’t hear you. Steve was warm and muscular, and yet incredibly soft. “You didn’t have to do all this. I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I found you,” he replied before releasing you. “I’ll see you soon.”

“The magazine’s throwing a party next month,” Natasha began as Steve walked the three of you to the door. “Our numbers are skyrocketing. This calls for a celebration. I’ll send you the details. It’ll be the biggest party of the year.”

When you got back to the waiting room, the secretary told you that Steve’s chauffeur would drive you and your colleagues to your apartments. You took a seat and tried to process what had just happened.

Natasha looked ecstatic, and you couldn’t understand why you felt so miserable. You needed to be alone with your thoughts.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” you told Natasha who nodded distractedly.

The waiting room was nicely furnished with comfortable leather sofas, fashion magazines on the marble tables –your magazine was on top of the pile- and a fancy water dispenser near the restroom.

You grabbed a cup and filled it with room temperature water, sipping it slowly as you looked around the room.

“Braceface!”

You felt a shiver come down your spine, the sound of his voice was like having your entire body dunked into ice cold water. He moved into your line of sight, a bright smile on his face. Had he always looked this terrifying?

“Hi, Brock.”

“So you remember me,” he said with a sickening smile, his tongue sweeping over his bottom lip. “Sweet.” He paused. “I heard you were getting married.”

“Yeah.”

“If you ever get bored,” he said, stepping into your personal space and handing you his business card. “I love married women, they’re so desperate for a good time.”

You felt trapped, like the day he had cornered you in Steve’s kitchen and asked if you wanted to have sex with him. You could feel the fear building up inside you.

You obediently took the card, your body automatically kicking in to self-preservation mode. Do what he says and he’ll leave you alone.

This part of the waiting room was hidden from view, meaning no one could see you right now. Brock had no shame, coming after you like that even though he knew you were getting married.

You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t move.

“Step away from her.”

You couldn’t see her, but Natasha’s voice held authority as she stood behind Brock with a seemingly calm demeanour. Brock took a step back, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“We were just talking,” he said.

She didn’t even spare him a glance. She searched your face for any sign of pain “You okay?” You nodded, not noticing the tear falling down your cheek. “We’re done here.”

She took a step forward and slung her arm around your shoulders, shielding your body with hers as you moved past Brock. You felt your heartbeat slowly returning to normal as Natasha ushered you toward the elevator.

You slowly came back to your senses, feeling a little embarrassed that you were –once again- the damsel in distress.

“That guy’s a dickhead,” Scott said, glaring daggers at Brock’s retreating figure.

“That guy is the co-founder of the brand, and a big name in the fashion industry,” Natasha mumbled, pressing the ground floor button. “He’s also a notorious creep. I’ll make sure we won’t run into him again.”

“You gonna have him whacked?” Scott asked, his eyes widening.

Natasha crunched up her face, clearly grossed out and confused. “No! I’m going to schedule our meetings at a different time. Have him whacked,” she repeated with a scoff. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“It’s just the way you said it,” Scott shrugged, “it sounded ominous.”

The elevator door slid closed while Natasha and Scott were bickering, but you weren’t listening to them. You wanted to go home.

You wanted Bucky to hold you close and snuggle with you for the rest of the day. But, more than anything, you wanted to know why Brock fucking Rumlow was still working with Steve.

[szopenhauer]

How was your day?: it wasn’t good.

Would you ever try to count to 5,000 for $5,000?: I’d try

When is the last time you took a picture of yourself?: last days

When did you last take a shower?: I’m going to take a bath soon

What song are you listening to?: The Weeknd - Blinding Lights

Last sentence you said aloud?: not sure what was last

What is the point of scented pens/pencils/erasers? ppl like to smell stuff I guess Do you buy/wear band-aids with cartoon characters on them? they’re usually not sticking well enough  What do you think your reaction would be upon entering the White House? meh, they could spend those money better by helping ppl, nobody needs such a big house - president or not, we’re not in medieval times and guards would have less to do 

Do you buy and wear crazy looking socks? I would like to Would you run down the street wearing a tutu, fishnets, & flippers? topless? for how much tho  Have you ever grown your own sea monkeys or dinosaurs? nope

Did you ever own an Etch-a-Sketch? yes, I loved it so much, I miss it Do/did you ever have glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling? on my wall and furniture, I still have some left Does your house have an attic? it does Have you ever gone white-water rafting? no and don’t want to Does your grandma wear an apron when she cooks? she did How often do you need “me” time? all the time? :x Does it bother you that almost everything is done on computers now? sometimes, a little bit Have you ever gotten stuck in a revolving door? I haven’t What animal do you most resemble while eating? dunno but it reminds me of that yt video - how animals eat their food lmfao Would you play Jumanji, if given the chance? someone already plays it this year

Do you text/call while going to the bathroom?  I might but prefer not to Do you always make sure your cell phone is charged before going somewhere? and powerbank too Did you get Happy Meals just for the toys as a kid? only once, I got Eeyore that I still own Have you ever seen your parents cry?  of course

Do you often shift blame towards others? usually it’s other way around? Do you ever feel like you’re smarter than your boss? I don’t have a job Your very first best friend: Is he/she STILL your best friend? not counting my family - no Have you ever witnessed a crime? minor What��s the coolest personalized license plate you’ve ever seen? I saw a bunch :D Do you write grey or gray? grey, it doesn’t have 50 shades

If you make surveys, how do you decide about its title? I don’t add titles as you can see, that’s stupid

When are you going back to school? never?

What do you do when you tell a really bad joke? my jokes are so bad that they’re good if you know what I mean ;)

Do you like having a huge group of friends or would you rather have few close friends? few close

Do you watch the TV Show Skins? If so, who’s your favorite character? fragments

Can you get a strike at bowling? I never tried bowling but would like to

Do you swallow chewing gum? wtf

Were you into the Beanie Baby craze? nah Would you ever wish to ride a dolphin? nope, I’m not fond of dolphins Do you ever watch the news just for the weather forecast? my parents did and that was dumb, I don’t like/believe in weather forecats If your remote was missing, where is the most likely place you’d find it? in dad’s stuff Ever considered the thought that kangaroos technically have fanny packs? hehe

When was the last time you blew bubbles? not that long time ago from what I remember Did the last doctor’s office you were in have a crappy magazine selection? it did indeed  Have you been to a restaurant where they cook the food in front of you? bakery only The last ball you threw was a… (baseball, basketball, etc.) childish ball for my niece Have you seen how much candidates for president are willing to spend for their campaign? it’s insane  Have you ever caught a friend snooping in your room? I have and that’s why I am afraid of leaving ppl alone in my room  Quick! Name the longest word starting with the letter ‘J’ you can think of: jurisdiction was the first that came to my mind  Do you still write letters to people, even though there’s e-mail now? no longer but not because of e-mail’s existence

Have you ever taken a survey with a friend, listing both answers?: I tagged my friends in the past 

Do you know a guy who has hair longer than yours?: not currently

What color was the last cup you drank out of?: it’s a llama mug (minty color)

If you’re in school, what do you do to fill in time between classes?: there was never enough time for me

Where was the last place you got lost?: mall or park

When was the last time you had cheesecake?: this year

When you last shed tears, was it because of a person?: partially

Other than yours, whose house did you last fall asleep at?: John and P

Have you ever had a significant other whose parents didn’t like you?: looks like it

What’s so unique about your computer?: what’s on it - pictures/memes/documents

What’s one thing you have never done? I didn’t do lots of stuff and don’t want to many of them actually

What is one trend you wish you have been a part of? I’m not into trends in general

Do you enjoy reading fanfictions? About who? Or do you write fanfictions, too? nah

What is something you own that you wish was in your favorite color? it’s not that important

Is there someone from your past that you wish you had dated? used to think that way, no longer

Can you snap with both your hands? If not, which hand can you snap with? both but not every single time

Do you like cosplays? I tried cosplays but it’s not for me and I’m a bit traumatised by it due to experiences from the past, they remind me of someone and not only so I prefer not to follow/look at those related to anime mostly

If you were to participate in one, what/who would you dress up as? I’d dress up as characters I relate to

Do you sometimes answer surveys with “Idk”/“Idr” because you’re too lazy? I just realized that I don’t, wow, I used to do that all the damn time

Are you usually open to trying a new food that you aren’t familiar with? am not

Have you ever acted like a bitch and used PMS as an excuse? I don’t use PMS nor period as an excuse as it’s actually a stereotype and shouldn’t be an argument besides painful/uncomfy/annoying physical sensations and being unable to do some stuff due to that fact 

Do you know someone who brushes their teeth in the shower all the time? *shrug*

Have you ever tried doing that? Did you like it? Why or why not? tried and it’s not that good

Are you patient when it comes to instructing others? I’m not, sorry...

Do you listen to Panic At The Disco? nah

Name a band/artist you like that isn’t that popular.: I like many bands/artists that seem not very popular

Can you lift your significant other (your best friend if you’re single)?: can’t :(

Have you ever lost a pet you were attached to?: we had to give away

You can read minds; Whose mind do you snoop around in first?: hmm...

Do you ever talk to inanimate objects?: stuffed animals, kettle and fridge 

Have you ever tried to fold a piece of paper more than 7 times?: possibly

Your best friend needs a kidney to survive; Do you give them one of your’s?: oh my...

Your brother breaks into your house; Do you press charges?: ... ghost?

Would you rather have a huge cat or a tiny dog?: tiny dog <3

Do you use your hands when you talk to emphasize what you are saying?: do I?

Are you afraid to ask for help when you know that you need it?: depends

Should adopted kids be allowed to find their birth parents if they want to?: I guess

You’re writing a novel; Is it horror, mystery, romance, etc.?: sci-fi/fantasy

Will you usually admit it when you’ve made a mistake? would say so

Does your name begin with a B, L, R, or T?: Z

Could you go a day without texting?: but she couldn’t and we don’t want to

Do you have a step-parent?: I don’t

If so, do you get along with them?: -

Do you have any nieces or nephews?: one

Does your current/last job require that you wear a uniform?: one of jobs that I had

Who is your 23rd phone contact and how do you know them?: I don’t have this many

If the last person you kissed proposed to you what would you say?: try me

Where is your dad right now?: sleeping 

Are there any writing utensils close to you? several

Look up, what do you see? ceiling

Do you have a bigger upper or lower lip? lower

Do you have any screen names with spelling errors? luckily not

Open the nearest drawer and tell me what’s inside it: I know it’s empty, don’t have to open it

How many other rooms can you currently see into? my door is closed

Do you need to take the trash out? already done

Do you need to clean out a litter box right now? we don’t have a cat anymore

Are these questions reminding you of things you put off to do this survey? nah

How many days have you been wearing those clothes? 1

Do you like listening to 60’s music? some songs

Can you move your nose? many ways

Can you wiggle your ears? my dad can

How many songs have you downloaded this week? I don’t download songs

Would you rather be a pirate or robot? robot, can’t robot be a pirate tho?

Would you rather be a ghost or a zombie? ghost 

Have you ever considered living in a bomb shelter? I’d be scared to live underground

If I gave you a piano and told you hit middle c, could you? nooo

do you think it’s weird for someone to have never tried soda?   not really

which floor of your house/building are you on now? there’s basement under me and attic above me

would you ride a motorcycle if given the chance? (or have you?) I would, haven’t yet

what are your thoughts on reincarnation? (have you ever read up about it?) it’s possible

does your home have a balcony/deck/porch? balcony

how would you feel about traveling abroad alone? anxious

do you have an interesting passport? I don’t have a passport

what happens to your old clothes? I donate them, give them to ppl I know, reuse them, sell them etc.

who supports you financially? my parents 

if you wanted to go to the movie cinema, how would you get there? walking then by bus then walk again

have you ever had a crush on a sibling’s friend or a friend’s sibling? minor

do you know much about feng shui? (do you use it?) not much, I don’t use it

what’s your favorite spot to read? librocubicularist

did you know that buddha is not considered a god to buddhists? ok

do you save tickets from movies, etc.?   saved some

without looking him up, who was jim morrison? vocalist

do you have a nervous habit? several

would you be/are you a good role model to a younger sibling? nah

[peantbutter-honeycombs]

Forever and Always - Part 3

Title: Forever and Always

Word count: 978

Characters: Blu and Girl

Warnings: Angst, crappy writing

Notes: I made this all the way back in 2017. Never got around to doing much with it. Shame. I enjoyed writing it. Even though it made me sad. So I’m posting it, unedited here.

———

September 21, 2018

One parent who doesn't care for his daughter. He sees her as an accessory, she’s only needed for formal events so that his coworkers know that she actually exist. That is my relationship with my father or as I more commonly call him the monster.

"How was school today?" The monster asks, his face hidden behind a newspaper. That's what makes me despise him I can't recall the last time I saw his face. "It was fine, I have a big science fair coming up. My teacher said my project is amazing, Blu is even part of it." I boast proudly, ever since I’d quit baseball I'd had time to work on my grades. I am kind of known to be a nerd but that doesn't bother me.

"Is that so, how nice," the monster responds. He turns the page, he doesn't seem proud of me he never does."Dad maybe…maybe you could come?" I suggest mindlessly twirling my fork in the air. He chuckles before answering, "I don't think so Champ, maybe next time."

There won't be a next time. This is my last year at home next year I’m going to college in California. I want to go to art school to learn animation techniques. I’m going to work for Disney. Maybe I’ll even make a short about Blu. "Oh okay, I think I'll go eat up in my room." I whisper, I don't know why I'd gotten my hopes up.

"That's fine Champ," the monster grumbles.

I take my time taking my plate off the red velvet table cloth. Slowly I make my way down the empty hallway, pictures of the monster decorate the wall. Blu whimpers probably sensing my sadness, I just ignore him. I quietly tiptoe up the flight of stairs careful not to make a sound. I gently turn the golden doorknob then lightly push the door open.

My bedroom is beautiful it's a true symbol of everything I love. Twinkle lights hang from the ceiling like scattered pixie dust. The walls are painted a beautiful Royal blue the same color as the night sky. Various dog toys and Disney knickknacks are scattered across my desk. Multiple sketches of Blu and other characters conjured from my own imagination litter the wall.

I push a few random things out of the way then grab my apple laptop. Flipping the top open I frown, sticky notes off various colors and shapes decorate the screen creating a collage. I quickly peel them off making a mental not to trust my friend with my laptop ever again.

I bite my lip waiting for Skype to load up. Blu jumps up and lays down on my lap. The dummy thinks he's a lap dog when in reality he's crushing my legs. I don't try to move him, he's just trying to comfort me. Blu knows my relationship with the monster isn't as it should be.

My best human friend's smiling face pops up on the monitor making my face break into a grin. "Hey Tom how's it going?" I greet trying to contain my laughter but ultimately failing. Tom was pulling off the most adorkable face I'd ever seen. I only wish I could see it in person.

"You okay Libs you seem a little down in the dumps?" He asks seriously. Tom is awesome, he's funny and very considerate. He takes my sadness very seriously, he almost beat a kid up at my school up once because the bully made me burst into tears, which is pretty hard to do.

Tom and I met on the busy streets of NYC we literally crashed into each other. Blu had decided it would be fun to chase a kid with a hot dog, I can tell you it wasn't. Lucky for me a kind boy my age caught him before he ran into the streets. Tom and I have been friends ever since, though sometimes I think Tom loves Blu more than me.

"I guess so it's just my father. He can't come to the science fair." I sigh twirling a strand of hair with my finger. Tom furrows his brow in confusion,"did he give you a reason?" I shake my head making my long tangled hair whip from side to side. "Nope," I say licking my salty lips loudly popping the 'p'.

"Hey you've still got me and Blu." Tom offers, I shrug gently petting Blu's soft fur. "Yep, a dork and a dog, what more could a girl need?" I snort, Tom chuckles. In the background I can hear someone yelling his name. "Hey I've gotta go Libs, mom calls. Talk to ya later," he says giving me a small wave goodbye.

"See ya later Tom." I whisper tightly hugging Blu's neck like he was a pillow.

"Okay Blu what do you wanna do?" I mutter into his fur, he snuffs getting dog snot on my leg. I gag sometimes my best friend can be really be disgusting but I put up with it. Blu has always been there for me, he's hasn't really left my side since I'd adopted him. I couldn't remember a time where Blu hadn't been there to comfort and console me. He loved me for me, not because he felt obligated to, but because he is my best friend.

Blu is my best friend I care about him more than my own life. I'd put myself in harms way to protect him if I had to. Blu is my entire world, in my opinion Blu is the center of the universe. My life would be incomplete without him. Blu has always loved me unconditionally, he has always been there for me, Blu would never leave me. It's Blu and I against the world forever and always.

[doctorlexipedia]

BASIC INFORMATION

What is your character’s full name? Alexandra Caroline Grey-Sloan

How is it pronounced? Ah-licks-and-rah Care-o-line Gr-ay SL-OH-n

Does your character have any nicknames? Lexie, Lex, Little Grey, Grey, Lexipedia, and all the other crap she got nicknamed as an intern/resident 

When and where were they born? April 17th, Seattle

What’s their occupation? Neurosurgeon

What gender do they identify themselves as? Female

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

What’s their eye color? Hazel-y brown

Do they wear glasses or contacts? Nope

Hair color? Dark brown (sometimes with a slight reddish hint to it)

Have they ever dyed their hair or wanted to? Everyone remembers blonde Lexie being a thing right (ngl I live for blonde Lexie who knows maybe I’ll have her make a comeback)

Height? 5′6 and a half

Do they have any birthmarks? None

Do they have any piercings or tattoos? She has her ears pierces, and she has one tattoo on her lower back (because it’s hard for me to forget Chyler’s back tattoo so let’s make that a thing for Lexie)

If not, do they want to get some? She’s open to getting more

Do they take an healthy life style? For the most part, she tries to stay healthy. She could do without all the fries and chocolate but hey, it could be worse.

How easy do they get sick? An average amount? Probably a couple times a year she ends up sick.

Any marks on their body ( injuries, … )? Yikes this poor thing. She’s going to have some scarring/slight discoloration on her right shoulder from her burn and a scar above her right eyebrow towards her temple thanks to the Halloween Party. She has a few scars on her forearms from when she and the interns decided to practice sutures on themselves. From the plane crash, she has scars above and below her left eye, as well as more than she can count on her lower abdomen, pelvis, and legs.

How do they usually dress like? When she’s not in scrubs, generally it’s jeans and a t-shirt.

What is their favorite and least favorite feature about themselves? She loves her brain, and she’s not a fan of all her scars because even though they show what she’s been through, she thinks they’re ugly.

PERSONALITY

Positive traits? Caring, compassionate, hardworking, knowledgeable, strong, optimistic

Negative traits? Anxious, kinda clumsy, overly emotional, self critical, vulnerable

What do they consider to be the best and the worst on their personality? Her optimism for best, how emotional she gets for worst.

Are they more extroverted or introverted? She’s somewhere in the middle.

Any talents? Etch-A-Sketch drawing, she can carry a tune, and she can pack suitcases really well. She also kinda considers her memory to be a talent too.

What are their fears? Wolves, spiders, centipedes, eels, airplanes, letting people down

Do they have any phobias? Aerophobia - fear of flying.

What is their soft spot? Can you have a soft spot when you’re already a softy?

List 3 pet-peeves they can’t stand? People who don’t use their turn signal, loud chewers, seeing books put upside down on a shelf.

EDUCATION

How far did they went in school? Are they still studying? Preschool through to med school. And no, she was done with school a long time ago.

Do/Did they like school? Lexie loved school. She had good grades, she was prom queen, she had loads of friends. And college and med school were just as good for her.

What type of student are they? Lexie was always a fantastic student. She was usually at the top of her class.

What is/was their favorite subject? She loved math.

And their least favorite? Phys-Ed

What were they / would they be voted as “most likely to…” in the yearbook? Most likely to be president, most likely to succeed

FAMILY

Who are your character’s parents? Thatcher & Susan Grey

How would your character describe them? Her mom was the best mom there could be. She was a sweet woman with a really big heart. Her dad.. he was a good dad to her, for the most part, but she thinks he makes crappy decisions.

Do they have any siblings? Molly (younger sister), Meredith (older half-sister)

Are they close with their family? She and Molly grew apart when she started getting closer with Meredith, not to mention them living in completely different places. She isn’t close with Thatcher these days either, they don’t really keep in touch often. Her mother is dead, so there’s that. But for her immediate family, she’s close to them. She loves her family.

ROMANCE & SEXUALITY - * you can totally skip for younger characters

What’s their romantic and sexual orientation? I firmly believe that Lexie is bisexual/biromantic

Are they seeing anyone right now? She’s married.

Have they ever been in an relationship? A few, yes.

Have they ever been in love? Definitely.

How easy to they fall for someone? She doesn’t fall right away but once she does fall, she falls hard.

In their view, why didn’t any past relationships work out? The early ones in her high school & college years were because they wanted different things, and people weren’t all that faithful. All of the ones once she began at SGMW that didn’t work were because she loved Mark.

What do they look for in someone? Someone caring, funny, a little challenging, a little (or a lot) older than her, compassionate, intelligent, and confident.

Do they believe in love at first sight? or fate? Not love at first sight, but fate yes.

What’s their views on romance? Do they go after it or avoid it? Lexie loves romance

What are their turn ons and turn offs? Mark Sloan is her turn on lmao. No but really just like.. confidence and maybe a little cocky (but not to the point of being a dick y’know?) and all the stuff that’s in the what they look for in someone question. Turn offs are when the other person acts like a dick, isn’t really intelligent, bad hygiene, etc.

Were they ever cheated on or cheated on someone? Yes

Do they want to get married in the future? She’s already married and isn’t about to go marrying anybody else any time soon.

Have kids? She’s got plenty of those

QUIRKS

Are they right or left handed? Right handed

Is there a saying they keep on repeating? Nah, not really.

Do they curse? Lexie’s not one to curse often. Words like ass or bitch might come up, but the bigger ones like shit or fuck, she’s not usually caught saying those except maybe by Mark when they’re in bed

What’s their worst habit? Stress eating. 

Do they drink or smoke? How frequently? She doesn’t smoke. Lexie does like a beer when she gets home, or a glass of wine. And when she can swing it, she’s a fan of going over to the bar for a little bit.

Are they an early bird or a night owl? She’s neither, she’s just.. a bird. Her schedule changes because of work so she’s learned to adapt to both late nights and early mornings.

How tidy is their room? It’s very clean.

How long to they usually take getting ready in the morning? It takes Lexie anywhere from ten minutes to an hour and a half. It depends on the day.

FAVORITES

What’s their favorite color? Yellow and pastel blue

Favorite movie? Aristocats

Music Genre? She’ll listen to everything.

Food? Peanut butter cups

Books? All of ‘em. She loves books.

Favorite non-alcoholic drink? Water

Ice Cream Flavor? Chocolate

Indoors or outdoors? Indoors

[flowerfan2]

Somewhere Only We Know - 2/4

Bruce/Bucky, M, A03

It’s a rare pair... give it a try! 

Chapter Two

They develop a bit of a routine over the next week.  Bucky is apparently in remarkably good shape for someone who hasn't moved in five years.  He refrains from pointing out that if he hadn't been able to retain muscle mass during previous cryo periods, he wouldn't have been much good to Hydra.  But every day he goes along with physical therapy anyway, then spends a few hours in the gym sparring with T'challa's people.  If nothing else, he's getting used to moving with only one arm.  It's challenging, but not as bad as he had imagined.  

By mid-afternoon he showers and changes, pulls his hair back into a bun, and waits for Bruce to stick his head around the door from the living area they share.  While  Bucky was in cryo T'challa had converted a whole section of the compound for the otherwise homeless Avengers.  There's a good sized room with couches and a table, with six bedrooms surrounding it in a half circle.  It's even got a little kitchen.  The room that Steve had used is almost empty, but there's a framed street map of Brooklyn on the wall, and a folder in a drawer with some sketches - of the Wakandan skyline, and of Bucky in the cryo chamber.  Bucky stops looking after he sees that one.

Most days Bucky goes go for a walk with Bruce before dinner.  Wakanda is beautiful, and Bruce has found all sorts of places he eagerly shares with Bucky, from corners of the noisy and modern city to peaceful clearings in the forest.

Bucky's been awake for a few weeks when he finally gets up the nerve to move beyond small talk and ask Bruce about something real.  They're sitting next to a shining pond, right where a waterfall runs into it, and the sound of the water striking the pond's surface is soothing, like rain falling on a roof.  

Bucky looks at Bruce, who is staring into the falling water, and taps his knee to get his attention.  "Bruce?  Can I ask you something?"

Bruce turns to him, raising an eyebrow.  "You mean, in addition to what you just asked?"

"Ha ha."  Bucky nudges him with his leg.  "You're a riot."

"That's what people say."  Bruce shrugs.  "Sorry.  Can't help it.  Go ahead, ask."

"Why are you here?"  Bucky asks.

Bruce doesn't seem surprised at the question.  "Do you mean cosmically, or...?"

Bucky laughs.  "Does Steve know you've got sass?  He likes people with sass."

Now Bruce's expression falters.  "Steve... well..."  He rubs the back of his neck.  "He's part of the reason, I guess."

 Bucky's stomach clenches.  "Did he ask you to - to babysit me?"

 "What?  No.  Definitely not.  It, um, it actually took some convincing for him to let me stay."

 "Why?"

 Bruce looks uncomfortable.  "He, um, wanted to make sure I was safe."

 "Oh.  Guess he's right.  I'm pretty much the worst, when it comes to pissing people off.  And if you get pissed off, I guess that's bad."  Danger to everyone, it might as well be Bucky's tag line.

 "I think it was the other way around, actually."

 Bucky shifts, moving to catch Bruce's gaze.  "What do you mean?"

 Bruce sighs.  "I had been hiding out for four years.  I didn't help with the whole accords mess.  I didn't help get Natasha and everyone out of the raft.  Steve was a little suspicious of me.  Wasn't sure of my motives.  He didn't want anyone that might hurt you getting too close."

 "He thought you'd hurt me?"

 "He's a little protective of you, you may have noticed?"  Bruce hazards a grin, which disappears as quickly as it came.  "Anyway, Steve came around.  We talked a lot.  And Steve saw how I was able to make a lot of progress with the other guy while I was away.  We're on better terms now.  No surprise visits."

 Bucky huffs and shakes his head.

 "What?  You don't believe me?"

 "No, um - until this conversation, right now, I had, um, forgotten."

 "Forgotten?"

 Bucky feels like an idiot, but it's true.  "About the - other guy."  Bruce looks sort of stunned, and Bucky rushes to explain.  "Not like brain washed forgot, just, you know... you're not like him at all."

 Bruce's expression has shifted from stunned to simply mildly dazed.  "I am him.  That's part of what I figured out."

 "Well then he's obviously not so bad, either."

 It might be the sunset, but Bucky thinks Bruce's cheeks go just a little pink.

 They're back at T'challa's compound, saying goodnight in the hallway outside Bucky's room, when Bucky realizes it.  "You never answered my question."

 Bruce frowns.  "Yeah.  Sorry."  He wraps his arms around his waist.  "Rain check?"

 Bucky doesn't like the troubled look on Bruce's face.  "Of course.  Hey -"

 Bruce turns back to him, still nervous.  

 "You don't need to tell me," Bucky says, searching for the right words.  "It's obviously... personal?  You don't need to tell me anything."

 "It's not that big a deal, it's just-"

 "Bruce.  You don't have to tell me."

 Bruce's whole body relaxes, his hands falling to his sides.  "Thanks."

 They say their good nights, again, and Bucky goes into his bedroom.  He may not be the poster boy for tact, but he understands privacy.  He's not going to push.  If Bruce has his own reasons for wanting to hang out in Wakandan wonderland with the the misfit toys of Cap's team, that's his right.  Bucky's just glad he gets to enjoy his company in the meantime.

 And before he can think about how sad he will be when Bruce leaves - because everyone leaves, eventually - he closes his eyes and counts backwards from a thousand in Swahili until he falls asleep.

 *****

 A few weeks later, Bucky comes back from the gym to find Sam and Natasha are there, sitting in the living area with Bruce.  Sam gets up from the couch and bounds right over to him, a warm smile splitting his handsome face.

 Bucky tenses as he gets close, nervous all of a sudden, and Sam slows to a stop.  "I'll give you a hug when you're not so sweaty," he says lightly, obviously seeing Bucky's discomfort but not wanting to draw attention to it.

 Natasha doesn't notice, though, or maybe she just doesn't care.  "Hey there, soldier," she says, giving his cheek a quick peck.  "Nice to see you up and about."

 They all settle back down, urging Bucky to hurry up and shower so that they can go get dinner.  Sam has a favorite place in the city he insists Bucky will love, although Natasha rolls her eyes at his exuberance.  "He just likes it because it has a jukebox," she drawls.  "The man would eat frozen dinners if he could listen to crappy hits from the 60's at the same time."

 Bucky sighs a breath of relief as he closes the bathroom door behind him.  Despite himself, he wonders how long they'll be staying.  He's gotten used to his quiet time alone with Bruce in the evenings.  Bruce has this air of calm about him that works its way into Bucky's skin just by being nearby.  And Bruce, for whatever reason, seems to like being around Bucky, too.  His eyes lose their hint of sadness when he sees Bucky.  Making him drop that serious demeanor and laugh... well, it feels pretty nice.

 He puts on some of his new clothes - a pair of slim fitting jeans and a dark blue button up.  The shirt doesn't look quite the way he had hoped it would, with the left sleeve rolled and pinned, so he tugs it off and dons a more familiar black t-shirt.  At least his ass looks good, he thinks, giving himself a once over in the mirror before going back out to join the group.  

 Bucky catches Bruce giving him a look as they head out - Bruce apparently thinks his ass looks good too.  Bruce is dressed up a bit as well, wearing a tweedy blazer over a blue shirt, with gray slacks.  Bucky smiles at him, straightening the collar of his blazer as they get into the car.  Bruce gives him a shy smile back.  It's almost enough to take Bucky's mind off the fact that he has to get through the rest of the night with Sam and Natasha.  

 It's not that they're bad people.  He knows they're not only more than decent, they've both risked their lives to help him - or help Steve, and as a result help him.  But they're still strangers.  Bucky's used to most people feeling like strangers, but that doesn't mean he likes it.  Somehow Bruce managed to slip right through and become a friend.  Bucky knows, logically, that this can happen with Sam and Nat, too.  He's just not all that thrilled about the process.

 The restaurant does indeed have a little jukebox at every table.  They slide into a booth, Sam and Natasha on one side and Bruce and Bucky on the other.  Bucky winds up on the inside, which makes him a little claustrophobic, but has the advantage of being next to the jukebox.  He messes with Sam, racing to program random songs that they are forced to listen to before they get to Sam's picks, and it cracks everyone up.

 After their food comes and Sam finally stops pouting, Natasha asks the question Bucky has been dreading all night.  "So, Bucky.  Any plans?"

 Natasha winces, and from the frown on Sam's face, Bucky's pretty sure it's because Sam kicked her under the table.

 "It's only been a little while, Nat," Sam says.  "Geez.  Give the guy a break."

 Bucky feels Bruce's hand land lightly on his thigh, a reassuring presence he hadn't known he would welcome as much as he does.  "No plans yet."

 "Gonna go join Steve on his mission to save the universe?"  Nat asks, undeterred.

 "Don't think I'm invited."

 That silences the group.  Not even the arrival of their oversized desserts can completely lighten the mood.

 Walking back to their car, Sam falls into step next to Bucky.  "Steve cares a lot about you."

 Bucky huffs out a laugh.  "I know, Sam."

 "He just..."  Sam pauses, struggling for words.  

 "I know, believe me, I do."  Bucky's been through this a million times.  "Steve's gotta go where the bullies are.  He needs to fight the good fight.  If things were getting cloudy here, if he wasn't sure which way was up, I'm not surprised he went looking for a less abstract big bad."

 "Even if it means leaving you?"

 Bucky looks at Sam, a little surprised.  "Despite what that Smithsonian exhibit said, we're not actually attached at the hip.  I'm not in mortal danger, he's not in mortal danger... we can probably stumble on without each other for a while."

 Bucky knows the next question Sam's going to ask before it comes out of his mouth.  "You mean... You and Steve aren't... together?"

 It's funny the way things have changed.  Back in the forties, it would have been shocking to confess that he and his best friend were banging - now everyone is more surprised that they're not.  "Nope.  Never were. Not like that."

 Bucky stops as they reach the car, and Natasha almost crashes into him from behind.  Bruce is next to her, looking shamefaced.

 "Eavesdrop much?"  Bucky asks.

 Bruce starts to apologize, but Bucky interrupts him.  "Nah, don't sweat it.  It's no secret."  He looks around the group.  "All this time, if you were curious, why didn't you guys just ask Steve?"

 Sam sighs.  "We did.  He told us you weren't together, but we just thought he was being shy, or respecting your privacy."

 "Or still closeted," Natasha adds.  "Even though we kept telling him it was okay."

 "And showed him every LGBTQ-friendly show on the planet," says Sam.  "Have you seen Queer as Folk?  It's a little outdated, but it's awesome."

 "How about we continue this conversation back home?"  Bruce asks, shepherding them into the car.

 Sam keeps talking about Queer as Folk on the way back, and some musical called Hedwig that he starts playing the music from, but Bucky tunes him out.  He's watching Bruce, who is twisting his hands together, staring unhappily at his lap.

 He leans over and bumps his shoulder against Bruce.  "Hey.  You okay?"

 Bruce nods.  "Yeah."

 Bucky wasn't born yesterday, he thinks, then laughs internally at his own joke.  "Bruce?  Don't stress.  I'm not upset."

 "That wasn't right, they shouldn't have..."

 "What?  Asked about me and Steve?  I'm kind of surprised you haven't asked."

 Bruce's head snaps up and he stares at Bucky, eyes wide in the dim light of the back seat.  "Wh-why would you say that?"

 But before Bucky can answer - and he has no idea what he would have said, so it's just as well - Natasha is twisting around in her seat talking about plans for the next day, and the moment, whatever it was, is gone.

[doodlewash]

My name is Jenny Kroik. I was born in Russia, grew up in Israel, and now live in New York City. I started painting very young. I always felt that painting was a great tool to communicate my point of view with the world. I think the biggest struggle I had (and still have) is to find a meaning or purpose in what I do. When I was younger, I felt that you should only do things if they benefit society in some large, heroic and long-lasting way. That idea brought a lot of aggravation into my work.

It also took the joy out of it to some extent, because no matter how I looked at it, my paintings seemed smallish in the great scheme of things. I went to grad school hoping to resolve some of these conflicts relating to my work, but even though my degree was in Painting, I found that I was making art that I didn’t like to please others. Lately, I’ve found that, ironically, as an illustrator, I was making art that was more pleasing to me, and felt more like it was for myself (even though there is a clear “client” and “market” involved). It was an important re-discovery, and I became more confident about the things that I produce now.

I started to take painting lessons when I was about 13, and I started with watercolors (because my mom deemed all other paints too toxic). I’ve used watercolors a lot, and it is still my go-to medium. I think that as a kid, I felt that the watercolors were missing a bit of solidity to them, so when I tried gouache paint years later, it all clicked. With gouache, I could use the paint in the watery-style that I am used to, while adding opaque tones and solid layers. I think it fits how I feel now, that I’d like the painting to be more like a statement rather than a suggestion, or something in between those two.

I use Yarka St. Petersburg for watercolors. This was the first set I used, and my mom actually brought it with her from St. Petersburg. Sometimes, when I run out of a color in my set, I squeeze some M. Graham watercolors or Winsor & Newton, whatever I happen to have around. The most important colors for me to have are sepia, cad orange and ultramarine blue. Besides all the basic colors, these complete my color palette and I have trouble painting without these.

For gouache paints, I use Holbein, they are my favorite. Their colors are very solid. I found with some other brands, when you open the tube for the first time and squeeze out the paint, lots of liquid comes out, this doesn’t happen with Holbein. If you pre-mix them in little tubes with a few spritzes of water (like I was taught by my art mentor) then they last for a long time.

I like to use brushes that are on the cheaper side, because they are usually stiffer. They are not quite as stiff as acrylic brushes, but not as soft as the nicer watercolor brushes. The softer ones are not as precise for me. Maybe I used crappy brushes for so long that I got used to them, and when I paint with a fancy sable I just don’t like it.

I can’t really name any particular brand of brush. I used to love these Princeton Art Advantage brushes that I would always get at the $2 bin at the university bookstore in Oregon, but I haven’t been able to find a good substitute yet, I’ll let you know when I do.

My current favorite for paper is Fluid 100 paper, hot press, 140lb. I also use Arches hot press paper a lot, and sometimes Arches cold press for portraits and quicker paintings. (the cold press absorbs too much, and for longer paintings it just eats all my paint).

I also like to use “mystery paper”- I have a stack of paper I’ve collected throughout the years, and I have no idea where it’s from or what it does. some of it is for printmaking, some for markers, some of it rice paper.I pick a sheet from the stack and paint on it, and see what happens. It’s always most stressful when it works out really great, because then I don’t know what this paper was and where to find it again. But it’s good to be a little bit stressed about your art sometimes.

I use palette paper (any brand) and the paint tub with two sides – one with a scrubby side. That is perfect for cleaning the brush and avoiding running to the sink every 4 minutes. Also, a cotton rag is crucial. If I forget my rag I feel lost. Paper towels absorb too much and I don’t like to pollute the planet.

I used to use a lot of waterproof pens, like the Winsor & Newton pens or Microns for sketching and doing a wash on top, but I haven’t been working with line in a while. Maybe I should go back to it a bit. I also like Pentalic sketchbooks.

Learning meditation really helped me and my work as well. It’s similar in many ways to the artistic process, and learning and reading about mindful meditation helped put into words the things I was always struggling with at the studio. For instance: how can I sit down every day and make painting after painting, and still find new possibilities in the work? Or how can I reconcile the painting I planned to make with what actually came out (including spills and dirty fingerprints)? And one of the hardest things: how can I sit down to paint when my mind is constantly filled with noise, judging voices, criticisms, endless comparisons to other artists and their successes, and just random static?

Meditation definitely made my time in the studio not only less torturous, but also more productive: It gave me the framework to study unpleasant emotions like an objective observer, and I find many treasures in the icky moments that I would normally try to push away.

After moving around a lot in my life, I now live in New York City. This is probably the favorite place I’ve lived in so far, and also the least comfortable, dirtiest, cramped with jerks, and most aggravating at times. But I feel most comfortable in the city, and I feel like being around so much creativity and energy has really given me an artistic push. I can let my inner jerkness out and be pushy and demanding. Things that were absolutely not allowed in Oregon, where I lived for 8 years.

Oregon was quite the opposite of New York. it was quiet and calm on the outside. There was one museum in the town I lived in, and the art scene was fairly small. I developed a practice of mining for inspiration in daily life. Going out and looking for interesting things, applying a “filter” on the world, trying to see everything as an interesting or funny painting. Instead of museums, I roamed around thrift stores and antique shops, sketching what I saw. Finding visual interest in an army of white older ladies that all wore the same khaki pants and Patagonia fleeces. Going back to the same place or person, and painting them over and over again.

Oregon was maybe a quiet, and lets face it, boring place, but it was an awesome place to really figure out what I’m into as an artist. It’s a great place in general where one can fall apart and reconstruct oneself. (If you’re looking for such a place, I recommend it.)

The way I developed my practice came from all the time I spent thinking about what “inspiration” is. It started from this damaging idea I had that inspiration is something that comes to you like a vision from outer-space: I had a vague memory from some time in my past, maybe high school or when I was working on my BFA, that art ideas would just float into my life like a religious experience, and I would see the painting in its entirety in my mind, accompanied by a strong emotion that made it feel like it’s going to be the most important painting that ever existed.

This was my idea of what inspiration is, and I had no way to go back to this magical past memory and confirm or deny that this is actually what I felt, but I was left with a strong belief that, at one point, I was inspired, and painting was easy, and now I’m all tapped out. It was a very upsetting feeling. There’s nothing more damaging to your practice than to become convinced that once upon a time you had a sack of magic art beans, and now that they’re gone, you have to live out the rest of your life being uninspired.

Finally I’ve decided that, even if I did have magnificent magic art beans and now they are gone forever, then those beans were bullshit, and I didn’t need them anyway. They were crap scam beans. Instead I’m going to develop a sustainable practice that won’t fail me. It’s going to be with me on good days and bad days, when my art is pretty and loved, and when it’s just an undefinable mess. When I’m in the middle of New York surrounded by hordes of amazing drawable people, or if I’m in a deserted industrial truck-depot.

And, honestly, without such a practice, I wouldn’t have known what to do with all the amazing visuals I encounter. I probably would have “saved them for later”, too intimidated to approach them.

My practice consists of doing something hands-on, art related on a daily basis. Ideally, I would paint/draw at least an hour a day. It could be anything from sketching or doodling from life, drawing silly cartoons, mixing colors, cutting papers into little compositions (I haven’t done that in a while, that sounds like fun right about now!) .

Sometimes on an unproductive kind of day, I count collecting imagery as part of my daily practice, but I don’t think it exercises the same parts of my brain that keep it playful. Taking photos or looking for reference material online is important to plan a solid illustration and keep concepts sophisticated and fresh, but this process can become too mechanical if you make that your only prep work before a painting.

Doodling and playing with actual materials brings the lightness and fun into my work for sure. That said, I work from photos and think it’s very important for my paintings to have a variety of really solid photo reference. Sometimes, one blurry photo is all I have, so then I have to supplement it with studies of my own anatomy, or search for pictures online of someone holding a certain pose, a material, a detail, a machine or animal I don’t quite know how to paint, etc.

While working from photos, the biggest challenge is to stop it from becoming flat, or just a copy. There should be a point to why this is better as a painting, something that you’re trying to show with it. A lot of it is about editing and color. I want to stop the world, remove everything that isn’t important, and shine a spotlight on a little moment, a beautiful expression, a funny juxtaposition, or something that tickled me in the right way, but I’m not sure why.

The painting process for me is definitely a way to reexamine a fast-moving life and slow down time in order for me to think about my experiences, but do it in a form of indirect conversation with whoever looks at my work.

I think I have been slowly bringing together all my styles and interest, and distilling them. All my interest: abstraction, figurative art, concept, color and a journal-style practice, where I draw very fast what I see that day, I have been cooking these down into a nice reduction of all the sauces of my previous practices. The test of what a “successful” painting is to me is that I actually love looking back at my work over and over, and I feel like it’s “me”.

In this past year of living in New York City, I realized that painting people was something I really love doing more that other subjects. A big part of my work has been loitering around town. This is a practice I revived back form when I lived alone in Boston when I was working on my BFA.

I used to spend a lot of time walking around thinking about what I should paint. Now that I’m older and bolder, and also shameless, I incorporate into these walks taking pictures of strangers and also sketching them, when I can.

One of the things I felt most deprived of in Oregon are museums. I made it a point to go to all of the museums in New York City. (So far I haven’t even seen half! There are so many!) One thing that I discovered is that museums are a great place to look at people. Not only do they walk slowly, they are also usually well-lit.

I can sketch and photograph them, and if I miss a cool person, I can snake around the displays and catch up with them in the next gallery! (I’m not creepy at all). There are also a ton of tourists in museums who take a thousand pictures of everything, so I blend it well.

There are a few museums that I found people dress up for more than others, for instance the MOMA. I love it when people dress up for a museum, it makes me hopeful that art means something to people. It’s almost like the artists themselves were there, and people want to honor them with their best clothes. The recent fashion exhibit at the MET (Rei Kawakubo/ Comme des Garcons: art of the in-between) brought out the most amazing people. My head almost exploded trying to capture everyone I saw. So many interesting people!

I still have a huge backlog of ideas for paintings on my to-do list. Since moving to NYC I probably shot about a Terabyte of photos. I probably did about 70 paintings of people in museums so far. I really enjoy it, so I hope that people aren’t sick of seeing them! This is a fun project, and maybe it will evolve into something more in the future.

In the next step in my art, I would love to continue evolving my composition style, making it more sophisticated, and also developing concept further in my work. I would also love to work in animation again.

Jenny Kroik Website Instagram Facebook Twitter Society6 Store

EDITOR’S NOTE: This is the second feature from Jenny Kroik who was one of the very first guest artists on Doodlewash back in August 2015. The format has changed a lot since that time. If you’re a former guest and would like to share your latest story with the community, please contact me!

Don’t Miss World Watercolor Month In July! 

GUEST ARTIST: Aimless Strolling, Kind Trolling by Jenny Kroik - #WorldWatercolorGroup @jkroik My name is Jenny Kroik. I was born in Russia, grew up in Israel, and now live in New York City.

[merigreenleaf]

ABC Tag

I’m going with Adair because he’s the most-main character of my current trilogy, but I might fill this out for Blythe later since she’s pretty much as much an MC as he is. 

A is for Age: 18 (Adair’s the youngest of my five characters- the rest are in their 20s) B is for Biggest Fear: Until book 2 when his fear becomes more emotional (losing the empathetic bond to his pair), it's heights. He's terrified of being off the ground in any way. C is for Current Time: It's late winter at the start of book 1. D is for Drink Last Had: Tea. Definitely tea. This culture drinks a lot of freaking tea. E is for Everyday Starts With: Grumbling about it being way too early to be awake (usually directed at Blythe who's a Cheerful Morning Person ugh), but then getting super excited because he gets to make breakfast! Then losing some excitement because his family of carnies can't agree on anything ever including breakfast. F is for Favorite Song: There are bound to be popular songs in a culture that revolves around the arts, but darned if I know what any of them are. Blythe was probably humming it this morning while being Annoyingly Awake. G is for Ghosts, Are They Real?: At the start of book 1, Addy would say probably not. By the end it's a definite, personal yes. (I mean, he gets to kiss one. That's pretty definite.) H is for Hometown: Sagewood, one of Concordia's small towns in the middle of nowhere. It's *boring*. I is for In Love With: Like that's a secret. Blythe and Etri. My gosh, the boy has it bad for both of them. Fortunately for him it works out to be mutual. It starts as a bit of a crush on these two attractive, slightly older performers, then they become his best friends and eventual significant others. J is for Jealous Of: Addy's not a particularly jealous person. I guess he's sort of jealous of the other artists his age who get more respect than he does, but he knows that he could too if he acted more traditional and he's dang well not going to do that. He's kind of an outsider in his own community. K is for Killed Someone: Unless a shadow or light creature (I haven't decided which) counts, no. That’s assuming he can even hurt them. Not sure yet. L is for Last Time They Cried: Probably within the past few days. He cries pretty easily over pretty much any kind of emotion. (I really need to make this come up more often. He's the most emotional character of the bunch.) M is for Middle Name: None at the moment, but when he gets his promotion to a higher ranking artist in book 2 (basically a symbol of adulthood), his parents' surname (Cerulean) becomes his middle name and he gets to choose a new surname based on his profession. N is for Number of Siblings: One younger sister. He gets along with her, but they're pretty far apart in age and he hasn't been home in a while so he hasn't seen her lately. O is for One Wish: To have a sentinel who will protect him and respect him better than his ex boyfriend did. (Sentinels are an artist's bodyguard/significant other.) P is for Person Last Called/Texted: He avoids writing home whenever possible, but he keeps in better contact with his former master who was like another mom. That said, the last letter he wrote was probably to his ex girlfriend. They're still good friends and keep in contact with each other. Q is for Questions They’re Always Asked: I couldn't think of one so my husband suggested "*You*? Seriously??" because no one ever takes Adair seriously. He's young, adorable, harmless looking, and kind, and I think this tends to make people disregard him. R is for Reasons to Smile: So many things make Adair happy! A new thing to sketch/paint, a change in scenery so he can see/experience new things, friends telling jokes and enjoying his company, yummy pies, beautiful spring days, his cat snuggling him, affection from Blythe or Etri. S is for Song Last Sang: I still don't know songs for this world yet. Probably whatever Blythe was humming while she tended to her plants this morning has gotten stuck in his head, though. T is for Time They Wake Up: Well into morning, probably around 10 given the choice. (Still not as bad as Etri who hates waking up before noon lol.) U is for Underwear Color: Adair's the kind of person who wears whatever looks cleanest. That said, most of his clothes are blue or purple, so it's probably one of those colors. V is for Vacation Destination: As a cartographer, he spent much of his apprenticeship traveling. He doesn't have a favorite place so much as places that served the best foods. W is for Worst Habit: Messy handwriting is probably the most harmless but most frequent. He's a cartographer. His writing has to be legible. He's really bad at making it this way but he's trying to be neater. The most harmful one is a tendency to be too passive and not speak up or letting other people make the decisions. He's gradually getting better at this. X is for X-Rays; Ever Broken a Bone?: Probably several. The other four members of his found family are all strong, athletic carnival performers. Adair is... well, he's a kindhearted artist who got picked on a lot as a kid and probably struggled to keep up with the other kids. Y is for Youth: *cough* I guess this is where I was going with the previous letter. He had a pretty boring, fairly traditional childhood and a slightly less traditional apprenticeship (his master is kind of an oddball like him who didn't quite fit into what Artisans are supposed to be like). He's a friendly person, but he's also kind of quiet and would rather draw something than play with the other more outgoing and social kids. It didn't help that his magic manifested a little later than average (an Artisan's worth is in their ability to possess magic and be an artist with it) and he was always kind of an outsider. He wasn't disliked, but he wasn't exactly included, either. And his biggest childhood bully grew up to be his closest friend because they were both kind of social outcasts with the other kids- this person was also later his aforementioned inept sentinel/boyfriend. He never really got on with his family, either, although hit fit in much better with his master and her family. Yeah, Adair is much happier with where his life is right now even though it's nothing like how an Artisan is supposed to live. He was a crappy Artisan but he's a dang good carny lol. Z is for Zealous: What Are They Passionate About?: Drawing and painting, putting his magic and effort into a really cool map that'll be his final project as an apprentice artist (this is basically like a graduation project and rite of passage rolled into one), cooking, finding yummy foods.

[justalittlebluetiefling]

Chapter 15: Sometimes I Can’t See Myself

Rating: T Fandom: The 100 Pairing: Bellamy x Clarke Chapter: 15/? Word Count: 1231 Words

Chapter Summary: The one where Clarke’s artistic talents gets discovered.

Also on AO3

Octavia pulled Bellamy into her room and rushed back into the bathroom to finish putting on her makeup. He was a little disappointed that Clarke wasn’t there. It was only because it would have been nice to have someone to talk to while he waited.

The room was different than the last time he had been there. It was a little messier. Still organized, but a little messy. O had two pairs of dance shoes on the floor in front of her closet. He only knew they were dance shoes because he had grown up with her dance crap all over the house. A pair of legwarmers hung over the back of her chair. And it even looked like she had picked up Clarke’s study habit of ripping pages out of notebooks and covering her desk, her books on the chair.

Clarke’s desk looked pretty much the same. Her Biology book was open to a page on meiosis versus mitosis. Her Chemistry book was open to a chapter titled “Enthalpy and Thermochemistry.” Bellamy shuddered. He had never been very good with science and he couldn’t imagine how her brain could handle both subjects at once.

The last of the mess was on the third desk, which had been clear a month ago. It now had pencils, charcoal, and a box full of half-used pastels. A few pictures were pinned to the wall above the desk. There was a sketchbook open on the table with a half-finished sketch of what looked like the Arkadia skyline, matching one of the pinned up pictures. Intrigued, he carefully turned the page to see what he was pretty sure was a view from the top of a hiking trail he loved. The next page had the outline of Octavia’s face and his breath caught in his throat. The detail was uncanny. He kept flipping through the pages. Most were landscapes, some were people. It was, he reluctantly admitted to himself, incredibly impressive.

“Good, isn’t she?” He jumped and turned to see O leaning against the door to the bathroom. She laughed and hopped around the corner to her desk, pointing at the wall. “Look familiar?”

Bellamy looked back and forth between the drawing he had complimented a few months ago and the lines on the pages under his fingers. It took a second, but when it hit, it was kind of like getting punched in the gut. “No way, really?!”

Octavia laughed again. “Yes, really. I think I had that same look on my face when I first walked in on her drawing. You’ve gotta see it. It’s like she’s in this trance or something. She didn’t even hear me walk in the door.”

He forced a laugh and took his fingers off of the paper. Art was another thing that wasn’t one of his strong suits and it felt incredibly personal to be seeing this layer of Clarke’s without her present. “Can we go? Mom’s waiting, and I have a shift at the cafe tonight.”

Bellamy walked slowly behind his sister who was chattering away about something that happened during her dance practice and tried to convince himself that it felt like he was on even ground with Clarke after seeing her drawings. She had seen his crappy poems for his English class. Maybe it’s not the same thing… your poems suck and her drawings are….

“So, Princess is actually seriously getting a degree in art for herself?”

He knew he said something wrong when Octavia managed to glare and grin at him at the same time. It was a terrifying look. “I don’t think I can answer that for you, Bell.”

Fumbling for anything else to say, he asked the only thing he could think of. “Does she work at the Arkadia Science Center or something?”

“God, I keep forgetting you guys are actually Facebook friends now. That’s so creepy. No.” The glare was gone, but it was replaced by something else. Something calculating. “She volunteers there on Saturdays. And at Red Cross tomorrow for a few hours. And twice a week at the clinic downtown. For the pre-med honor society thing her mom wants her to join. They look at grades and volunteer work, stuff like that.”

“Huh.”

Octavia elbowed him gently in the side and he glared at her. “Why you asking? Does little Bell want to get his picture drawn too?”

“Ugh, no way, O. Stop it.” He settled his hands on her shoulders and spun her away from him, pushing her carefully toward the car.

 ***

Saturdays were her favorites. Volunteering at the science center was definitely more fun than she thought she could have doing something her mother encouraged her to do. Still, she was so exhausted that she fumbled with the key in the lock for longer than necessary. After having kids climb all over her all day, her body was moving a little slow.

“Octavia?” Her lamp was on, but it looked like she still wasn’t back. Which was unfortunate, because in addition to being tired as hell, Clarke was also starving. Disappointed that she would have to wait for food, she let her purse drop outside the bathroom door and made her way to her sketchbook that was left open on a picture she did not leave it open on.

Keys jingling in the hall caught her attention just as Octavia burst through the door. “Hey, sweetie, sorry I’m late. We were running behind, so I had to walk from Bell’s work.”

Clarke smiled and waved a hand dismissively. “No problem. Were you looking at my sketchbook again?”

“Nope! Bellamy finally figured out you can draw.”

“He was looking through my book?” Clarke wasn’t sure if she was annoyed or not. She knew she didn’t really deserve to be annoyed. Not after she accidentally snooped through his poetry homework and he caught her. “Did he say anything about it?”

She thought her voice had been nonchalant. She didn’t really need to hear that Bellamy liked her drawings. But the look in Octavia’s eyes kind of creeped her out. “I’m not sure I can handle you two sort of getting along. You’re so weird about each other now.”

“What do you mean? What did he say?”

“Nothing!” O lifted her hands up in mock defense. “I just kind of miss hearing you call him a dickbag all the time.”

Clarke laughed so loudly it caught both of them off guard, and Octavia was startled into laughter as well.

“O, sweetie, your brother’s still a massive dickbag. We’re just learning to co-exist because we both love you.” That cut off Octavia’s laughter a little suddenly, and Clarke was suddenly very self-conscious. “I mean, you know, I just never expected to get along with my roommate this well, and you kind of –“

The wind was practically knocked out of her as Octavia threw her arms around her, and she got some hair in her mouth at the same time as she received a bone-breaking hug. For being equally short and thin, Octavia was fucking strong.

“Clarke, I love you, too.” O’s voice was muffled, as though she had a mouthful of Clarke’s hair as well. “You’re my best friend. You know that, right?”

“Me too.” Tears stung her eyes and she nodded into Octavia’s shoulder. “We should probably send a thank you note to the registration office, huh?”

[toomanysinks]

Review: Apple’s new iPad mini continues to be mini

The iPad mini is super enjoyable to use and is the best size tablet for everything but traditional laptop work. It’s very good and I’m glad Apple updated it.

Using Apple Pencil is aces on the smaller mini, don’t worry about the real estate being an issue if you like to scribble notes or make sketches. It’s going to fall behind a larger iPad for a full time artist but as a portable scratch pad it’s actually far less unwieldy or cumbersome than an iPad Pro or Air will be.

The only caveat? After using the brilliant new Pencil, the old one feels greasy and slippery by comparison, and lacks that flat edge that helps so much when registering against your finger for shading or sketching out curves.

The actual act of drawing is nice and zippy, and features the same latency and responsiveness as the other Pencil-capable models.

The reasoning behind using the old pencil here is likely a result of a combination of design and cost-saving decisions. No flat edge would require a rethink of the magnetic Pencil charging array from the iPad Pro and it is also apparently prohibitively expensive in a way similar to the smart connector. Hence its lack of inclusion on either Air or mini models.

Touch ID feels old and slow when compared to iPad Pro models, but it’s not that bad in a mini where you’re almost always going to be touching and holding it rather than setting it down to begin typing. It still feels like you’re being forced to take an awkward, arbitrary additional action to start using the iPad though. It really puts into perspective how fluidly Face ID and the new gestures work together.

The design of the casing remains nearly identical, making for broad compatibility with old cases and keyboards if you use those with it. The camera has changed positions and the buttons have been moved slightly though, so I would say your mileage may vary if you’re brining old stuff to the table.

The performance of the new mini is absolutely top notch. While it falls behind when compared to the iPad Pro it is exactly the same (I am told, I do not have one to test yet) as the iPad Air. It’s the same on paper though, so I believe it in general and there is apparently no ‘detuning’ or under-clocking happening. This makes the mini a hugely powerful tiny tablet, clearly obliterating anything else in its size class.

The screen is super solid, with great color, nearly no air gap and only lacking tap-to-wake.

That performance comes at a decently chunky price, $399. If you want the best you pay for it.

Last year I took the 12.9” iPad Pro on a business trip to Brazil, with no backup machine of any sort. I wanted to see if I could run TechCrunch from it — from planning to events to editorial and various other multi-disciplinary projects. It worked so well that I never went back and have not opened my MacBook in earnest since. I’ll write that experience up at some point because I think there’s some interesting things to talk about there.

I include that context here because, though the iPad Pro is a whole ass computer and really capable, it is not exactly ‘fun’ to use in non standard ways. That’s where the iPad mini has always shined and continues to do so.

It really is pocketable in a loose jacket or coat. Because the mini is not heavy, it exercises little of the constant torsion and strain on your wrist that a larger iPad does, making it one-handed.

I could go on, but in the end, all that can be said about the iPad mini being “the small iPad” has already been said ad nauseam over the years, beginning with the first round of reviews back in 2012. This really is one of the most obvious choices Apple has in its current iPad lineup. If you want the cheap one, get the cheap one (excuse me, “most affordable” one). And if you want the small one, get the iPad mini.

The rest of the iPads in Apple’s lineup have much more complicated purchasing flow charts — the mini does indeed sell itself.

Back even before we knew for sure that a mini iPad was coming, I wrote about how Apple could define the then very young small tablet market. It did. No other small tablet model has ever made a huge dent on the market, unless you count the swarm of super super crappy Android tablets that people buy in blister packs expecting them to eventually implode as a single hive-mind model.

Here’s how I saw it in 2012:

“To put it bluntly, there is no small tablet market…Two years ago we were talking about the tablet market as a contiguous whole. There was talk about whether anyone would buy the iPad and that others had tried to make consumer tablets and failed. Now, the iPad is a massive success that has yet to be duplicated by any other manufacturer or platform.

But the tablet market isn’t a single ocean, it’s a set of interlocking bodies of water that we’re just beginning to see take shape. And the iPad mini isn’t about competing with the wriggling tadpoles already in the ‘small tablet’ pond, it’s about a big fish extending its dominion.”

Yeah, that’s about right, still.

One huge difference, of course, is that the iPad mini now has the benefit of an enormous amount of additional apps that have been built for iPad in the interim. Apps that provide real, genuine access to content and services on a tablet — something that was absolutely not guaranteed in 2012. How quickly we forget.

In addition to the consumer segment, the iPad mini is also extremely popular in industrial, commercial and medical applications. From charts and patient records to point-of-sale and job site reference, the mini is the perfect size for these kinds of customers. These uses were a major factor in Apple deciding to update the mini.

Though still just as pricey (in comparison) as it was when it was introduced, the iPad mini remains a standout device. It’s small, sleek, now incredibly fast and well provisioned with storage. The smallness is a real advantage in my opinion. It allows the mini to exist as it does without having to take part in the ‘iPad as a replacement for laptops’ debate. It is very clearly not that, while at the same time still feeling more multipurpose and useful than ever. I’m falling in real strong like all over again with the mini, and the addition of Pencil support is the sweetener on top.

source https://techcrunch.com/2019/03/21/review-apples-new-ipad-mini-continues-to-be-mini/

[fmservers]

Review: Apple’s new iPad mini continues to be mini

The iPad mini is super enjoyable to use and is the best size tablet for everything but traditional laptop work. It’s very good and I’m glad Apple updated it.

Using Apple Pencil is aces on the smaller mini, don’t worry about the real estate being an issue if you like to scribble notes or make sketches. It’s going to fall behind a larger iPad for a full time artist but as a portable scratch pad it’s actually far less unwieldy or cumbersome than an iPad Pro or Air will be.

The only caveat? After using the brilliant new Pencil, the old one feels greasy and slippery by comparison, and lacks that flat edge that helps so much when registering against your finger for shading or sketching out curves.

The actual act of drawing is nice and zippy, and features the same latency and responsiveness as the other Pencil-capable models.

The reasoning behind using the old pencil here is likely a result of a combination of design and cost-saving decisions. No flat edge would require a rethink of the magnetic Pencil charging array from the iPad Pro and it is also apparently prohibitively expensive in a way similar to the smart connector. Hence its lack of inclusion on either Air or mini models.

Touch ID feels old and slow when compared to iPad Pro models, but it’s not that bad in a mini where you’re almost always going to be touching and holding it rather than setting it down to begin typing. It still feels like you’re being forced to take an awkward, arbitrary additional action to start using the iPad though. It really puts into perspective how fluidly Face ID and the new gestures work together.

The design of the casing remains nearly identical, making for broad compatibility with old cases and keyboards if you use those with it. The camera has changed positions and the buttons have been moved slightly though, so I would say your mileage may vary if you’re brining old stuff to the table.

The performance of the new mini is absolutely top notch. While it falls behind when compared to the iPad Pro it is exactly the same (I am told, I do not have one to test yet) as the iPad Air. It’s the same on paper though, so I believe it in general and there is apparently no ‘detuning’ or under-clocking happening. This makes the mini a hugely powerful tiny tablet, clearly obliterating anything else in its size class.

The screen is super solid, with great color, nearly no air gap and only lacking tap-to-wake.

That performance comes at a decently chunky price, $399. If you want the best you pay for it.

Last year I took the 12.9” iPad Pro on a business trip to Brazil, with no backup machine of any sort. I wanted to see if I could run TechCrunch from it — from planning to events to editorial and various other multi-disciplinary projects. It worked so well that I never went back and have not opened my MacBook in earnest since. I’ll write that experience up at some point because I think there’s some interesting things to talk about there.

I include that context here because, though the iPad Pro is a whole ass computer and really capable, it is not exactly ‘fun’ to use in non standard ways. That’s where the iPad mini has always shined and continues to do so.

It really is pocketable in a loose jacket or coat. Because the mini is not heavy, it exercises little of the constant torsion and strain on your wrist that a larger iPad does, making it one-handed.

I could go on, but in the end, all that can be said about the iPad mini being “the small iPad” has already been said ad nauseam over the years, beginning with the first round of reviews back in 2012. This really is one of the most obvious choices Apple has in its current iPad lineup. If you want the cheap one, get the cheap one (excuse me, “most affordable” one). And if you want the small one, get the iPad mini.

The rest of the iPads in Apple’s lineup have much more complicated purchasing flow charts — the mini does indeed sell itself.

Back even before we knew for sure that a mini iPad was coming, I wrote about how Apple could define the then very young small tablet market. It did. No other small tablet model has ever made a huge dent on the market, unless you count the swarm of super super crappy Android tablets that people buy in blister packs expecting them to eventually implode as a single hive-mind model.

Here’s how I saw it in 2012:

“To put it bluntly, there is no small tablet market…Two years ago we were talking about the tablet market as a contiguous whole. There was talk about whether anyone would buy the iPad and that others had tried to make consumer tablets and failed. Now, the iPad is a massive success that has yet to be duplicated by any other manufacturer or platform.

But the tablet market isn’t a single ocean, it’s a set of interlocking bodies of water that we’re just beginning to see take shape. And the iPad mini isn’t about competing with the wriggling tadpoles already in the ‘small tablet’ pond, it’s about a big fish extending its dominion.”

Yeah, that’s about right, still.

One huge difference, of course, is that the iPad mini now has the benefit of an enormous amount of additional apps that have been built for iPad in the interim. Apps that provide real, genuine access to content and services on a tablet — something that was absolutely not guaranteed in 2012. How quickly we forget.

In addition to the consumer segment, the iPad mini is also extremely popular in industrial, commercial and medical applications. From charts and patient records to point-of-sale and job site reference, the mini is the perfect size for these kinds of customers. These uses were a major factor in Apple deciding to update the mini.

Though still just as pricey (in comparison) as it was when it was introduced, the iPad mini remains a standout device. It’s small, sleek, now incredibly fast and well provisioned with storage. The smallness is a real advantage in my opinion. It allows the mini to exist as it does without having to take part in the ‘iPad as a replacement for laptops’ debate. It is very clearly not that, while at the same time still feeling more multipurpose and useful than ever. I’m falling in real strong like all over again with the mini, and the addition of Pencil support is the sweetener on top.

Via Matthew Panzarino https://techcrunch.com

[betweenstardustandsand]

what I learned from writing my first ever book

and I mean a real book, not those cute little 50,000 word projects I would do for NaNoWriMo

I learned that just because you like a passage doesn’t mean it serves the story. Sometimes you just have to kill your darlings. Self-indulgence can be tolerated in the first draft, but not when you want a refined, polished up manuscript. It’s gotta go.

I learned that it’s okay to get rid of those self-indulgent passages, and oftentimes you’ll like the rewritten result waaaay more. Trust me on this one.

I learned that worldbuilding is damn fun--and it’s not as intimidating as it sounds. You build your world from the ground up--sketching in the bare details to frame your story and ground your characters before you start decorating and adding in more colors and flavors and flourish.

Along those lines, I learned that it’s okay if your first draft is kinda shitty. Seriously, it’s okay! The first draft is just the shape of the story--the first rough sketch, if you will. Going back to refine and polish the manuscript is one of my favorite parts because you can start to see the true form of the story emerging from your initial work. Don’t be overwhelmed by how crappy you think your first draft is. The first draft doesn’t have to do anything but exist. You can revise and rewrite crap. You can’t revise a blank page.

I learned that I get some of my best ideas when I’m driving and singing to myself while stuck in traffic.

I learned that I use the em dash (--) waaaaaaaaaay too much.

I learned that when you get a wild idea along the lines of: “Wait, but what if I had Character A do this instead?”...you should definitely try it out. It can take your story to a new level you didn’t even think about before. It might seem totally out of the blue but you’d be surprised how many more doors it could open for your plot.

I learned that romance and angst will forever be entwined in my heart and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I learned that writing while listening to epic music does NOT work, at least for me. It makes me think my writing is way better than it actually is. (Cue me rereading in the morning and going, “Yeah...I bet that sounded super deep last night when you were listening to Two Steps From Hell.” *delete*)

I learned that even if you think your story NEEDS to be 146,000 words, it probably doesn’t. The final draft of Legend as of now is 110,000 words. That means I trimmed off 35,000 words--and I think my remaining 110k conveys more emotion and plot than the original 146k!

Along those lines, I learned how incredibly addicting it can be to slash words out of your novel and watch the word count drop lower and lower. (I cut something like 12,000 words in one onceover/deep cleanse....)

I learned that it doesn’t do to be too in love with your characters. Seriously. Get rid of that plot armor. Let them be flawed, let them fail, let them get hurt. It’s okay. I promise they can take it.

I learned that when you get writer’s block, you might want to throw in something crazy and just run with it. Anything that keeps the story going. You’ll probably end up liking the new idea and keeping it (with some tweaks) anyway.

I learned that you can rewrite a scene five times and still not be satisfied with it. And then you’ll put it away for a few days, come back, and write it in a way that just clicks. And then you’ll be like “So why couldn’t I do this before?!”

Most of all, I learned that I can take a terrible first draft and work hard on it and make it into something I’d actually be proud to see on a bookshelf with my name. I look at my earlier writing and I realize that I really DID improve. A lot.

(Seriously though. First draft was just awful. Second and third were slightly less awful, but still not great work. I’m just glad my poor sisters were the only ones I subjected to such horrors.)