#drawing them happy because the show is making me so sad

[perseidlion]

So I am a certified Catwin shipper. I have written a series that currently sits at 90k words that is casefic but also them getting together. But I am also a multishipper and have written some Payneland stories as well.

So I was understandably quite happy to hear we would've gotten Catwin in S2 because I love the dynamic and I love Lukas Gage and his performance.

But it has made me very sad to see how some people are genuinely upset by this news. I don't think it's justified, frankly. People are doing a lot of filling in the blanks, guessing, and supposition. Just because Catwin would have happened doesn't mean Payneland wouldn't have. Also, we have no idea the context in which all of this would have gone down.

It's important to remember that The Cat King also went on a journey and changed as a person throughout season 1 (as did all the characters.) He is not the same person who slapped the bracelet on Edwin when they first met and not just because he died and was resurrected.

He's matured, settled and grown. It's very possible this arc would have continued. Even if you hated TCK in S1, you may have come to love him in S2, or at least hate him less. Redemption arcs are great fodder for stories and I have no doubt the writers and Lukas would have done that kind of arc justice.

Or maybe Edwin would have had his hot girl summer and TCK was the same old lothario. In which case, he'd definitely be no threat to Payneland endgame. This scenario would make me sad for TCK because he does seem to have genuine feelings for Edwin beyond the sexual, but that was certainly a way they could have gone with it.

My point is, we're missing a lot of context. If you were to take plot points of S1 out of context as well, it would be very hard to envision the final product.

I mean:

Niko gets infested with dandelion sprites that nearly kill her. These sprites manifest with cartoon sparkles around her head and they feed on attention. When they get out of her brain, they're tiny snarky humans she keeps in a terrarium.

Jenny gets set up by Niko with a quiet librarian who turns out to be psycho killer stalker.

People jump off a lighthouse and get swallowed up by a giant angler fish who is siren-ing them to their death. Their ghosts linger, and this annoys the ghost who mans the lighthouse so he hires the boys. Charles yeets the Night Nurse into the fish, and inside she has a talk with an oddly calm and optimistic man. Oh, also the fish is called Angie and she didn't do any of this maliciously.

My point is, this show is camp. That's part of the charm of it. Camp plotlines sound absolutely wild when you distill them to one-liners. When you add in inciting incidents, context and character interactions, these turn from wacky scenarios into full, entertaining stories.

Please don't catastrophize based on crumbs! Whether we get a S2 or not, it's really not worth getting that worked up over. We can't draw conclusions based on what we've been given. It's all guesses, and it could have changed a million times before the episodes were finished.

Also please don't get upset at Catwin shippers for being happy about this. We just wanted to see more of Lukas and George interacting. Most of us are Payneland fans, too and understand that would be the most likely endgame.

[askthefamous8]

Even if I haven't been very active lately, 9 years is still pretty significant- happy birthday to the blog!

So like Percy up there I'm gonna do so dome reflecting. This blog's where I've often done that for some reason, but here's the tl'dr for blog related stuff.

• I would like to keep drawing stuff but feeling generally unsure in myself, and I'm wondering if all the years of fandom harrassment have caught up with me • I have one big project in mind, I've been dipping my toe into what I'd need to do it. No spoilers but it was one of the first things I played around with this series, so do with that what you will • If I can keep myself drawing, I want to use more of the original source material since I'm struggling with original ideas. So stuff like redraws, hOpEfULlY even animatics, just like what originally got me so into trains yknow? Because that's fun and sparks joy. And that always goes down a treat with you guys so bonus • As always I appreciate you guys not coming after me for being so inconsistent

The rest of this is me doing what Percy's doing in the drawing and reflecting, as there is indeed much 2 think about. It's also a little sad and venty so, there's your warning there.

.

Ok so obviously a busy year, we moved into our new house that we actually own, I spent most of the year planning our wedding, and then got married. Big stuff. Also! I came off antidepressants in the summer. I've been on them for...basically as long as this blog, 6 months after I started it I think. Which also means I'd been on antidepressants my entire adult life. Feels like a big deal and I guess I'm still adjusting.

Another big thing, but sad, is that my dog died about two weeks ago. If you follow me on twitter you'll have seen her but she did make an appearance here a few Halloweens ago

I got her when she was 13 and had her 8 years after that. So that's been difficult. Unrelated to that (probably), but I just feel...really mediocre. And before you point out the obvious, this has been present even before I came off antidepressants. But yeah just... mediocrity. In myself as a person, how I look, what I draw, my whole life really (barring my marriage thankfully). What have I achieved? I'm 26, I'm not working, I don't feel well, my art isn't good (I don't think so anyway- like yeah it's technically fine I guess but it's not, and has never been, very stand-out or impressive). And lately art doesn't bring me the same joy it once did, and I'm wondering if all the years of harrassment from this fandom (mostly the twitter side, tumblr's been pretty good to me) has finally caught up with me and put me off the whole thing. Or worse, that I just don't have as much of an interest in it anymore. I don't think I'll ever be like "ok yep I'm officially done with this blog" because I'm so stubborn but idk. I want to make things and be creative, I want to make more train art, but it doesn't feel the same. I don't know what's wrong. What do you listen to? What you want vs what you feel? I still enjoy train stuff, I love going to Awdry Ex every year. It's been like this for awhile. It's not even like I have a strong feeling of what I'd rather be doing as far as careers go. And even if I did, oh yeah I'm sure my two degrees in animation will be very relevant in another field (sarcasm). I feel adrift. My sails are open but there is just no wind. Planning my wedding gave me something to do and work on and just, feel useful but now that that's over I feel lost again. Losing my dog, who had become the center of my life because of how vulnerable she had become, hasn't helped.

On the more creative side of things, I also don't really know what to do with this blog's story either. The show's ended as far as most people are concerned, and I kiiinda wrote myself into a corner because once Thomas turns 18 he's going to leave for university, and that sets off this whole arc with James but basically the problem is it involves characters leaving and for some reason that feels like a no-no here. Don't get me started on the timeline lol. But Thomas works on a railway on Sodor, that's how it has to be...right? I guess I'm sort of at a crossroads of, ok do I want this to be close to the source material, and thus easily digestible to newcombers? Or do I want to make it more and more my thing and distanced from the source material? I doubt there's many new people coming since the series ended. And even then, there's a lot more humanization artists around now than when I started, so it's not like I'm filling a niche anymore. Just to be clear it's fine and also good that there's more humanization artists, variety is good, I just don't feel as "needed" anymore (which is 100% in my head and not an actual role that belongs to me or something). I started this blog when I was 17, so my interests and what I relate to have changed obviously. The character designs certainly have. It's never followed a super rigid story plan, but the core of it has always been the central cast doing things on Sodor. I however have always had a scene/project/animatic/whatEver in mind for when this 'series' would '''officially''' ''''end''''. But then what comes after that? I've always tried to run this blog like they are Real People that You interact with. But in real life there is no ending to the story, there's always more stuff to come. You get married, and it's wonderful, and then life goes on. The credits never roll. So maybe that's what I'm having trouble coping with...the progression of time. Ah, my old nemesis. I've always had trouble with letting go of things. There's nothing to say that I couldn't still draw stuff after the series "ends". I guess any story after Thomas leaves could be like... a sequel series or a spin off or something. Spin-off of a spin-off. Famous 8 All Grown Up. Famous 8 Qurter Life Crisis. Who knows. I certainly don't.

I've also been really into an original project unrelated to this but those don't get as much attention and while I'd like to do something with it one day, I don't feel very confident in being able to make that happen right now. But you know... as far my as art not being super spectacular goes... I think my individual talent has always been is my ideas, like the writing side of things. And then brought to life with my art, which normally isn't anything to write home about but is good enough to convey the idea and be not-awful to look at, lifts both of them beyond what they were individually. Maybe that's what I should focus on. Maybe that's wishful thinking.

So....idk. Idk what I'm doing but I'm trying to be gentle on myself and just let myself continue to drift, to heal from this heavy loss, and then in the New Year I'll try and pick myself up. Then there will be no more big once-in-a-lifetime events coming up, no more just-moved-into-a-house-and-oh-no-there's-a-bunch-of-things-that-need-attention-NOW scenarios, and no more big holidays for awhile. I guess we'll see.

If you read all of this I am so sorry but also thank you for reading my ramblings. And thank you for being around, whether that's been for a few months or for several years, but especially if it's been several years

[moldy-mold]

Boys...

[pineappical]

Your Ted lasso art actually means the WORLD to me, I just finished the series and I’m so sad it’s over because it’s the greatest show ever made but your art makes me feel less sad about it

THANK YOU!!! im also a little sad that its over now but im still very much obsessed with it so i like to keep on drawing them in silly situations to replace that sadness hehe!!! 💛💛

[seaofreverie]

The Me who bought tickets to see TMBG in february 2023 and the Me who's going to actually go to the show next month are two completely different people

[neonacidtrip]

I see these types of posts every now and again, and it’s only just occurred to me to share some knowledge:

Lines

Lines are often the heart of drawings, and they tend to be the part artists will draw over and over and over again to get them juuuuussssssttttttttt right. Pointing out lines you think are well done will go a long way to compliment an artist.

Your lines are dynamic! (Good for action pictures, art of an intense scene, or art that conveys movement, like a character running)

Your lines are so clean! (Good for neat lines of various sizes. These lines will feel like a coloring book, where you could color inside them yourself if the art was black and white)

Your lines carry such depth! (When lines cross over each other, they make a flat picture look more real, almost like 3D)

You’re good at drawing intricate lines! (Curling lines? Curvy, wavy, bendy lines? Lines that weave around each other? Many, small lines detailing an item like filigree or a robot’s parts? Those are intricate lines, baby)

You make great use of line weight! (In general, the human eye will be drawn towards very thick lines. Artists will use this to make you focus on a certain point, like a character’s face, by using thick lines around the face and thinner lines everywhere else)

You do amazing lineless art! (Not all art has lines! If you see a picture without any lines, make sure to tell the artist you noticed their hard work!)

Your line colors are fantastic! (Not all lines are done in black or white. Some artists will spend a lot of time choosing what color to make their lines. Show them some love!)

Color

Your colors are so vibrant! (Bright colors! Colors that pop! Colors that instantly grab your attention!)

The saturation is great! (A very bright color is highly saturated, and a very dull color is low saturated. High saturation colors can hurt the eyes, so an artist with good saturation control knows how to use bright colors without hurting anyone’s eyes)

I love your color choices! (This can be used for all color schemes; it’s a more general compliment that praises the artists for their understanding of color theory)

Your colors feel like home! (Good for cozy colors. Warm colors that aren’t usually super bright. They make you feel all warm inside. If you picture a cozy cottage in the woods, you’d probably image these colors)

Your pastels are so pretty! (Muted colors usually fall into the category of “pastels”. These are soft colors that are meant to be calming and non-oppressive on your eyes. Think: The opposite of vibrant)

Your colors are so soft! (Similar to the above two, this is for a picture that makes you feel soft and warm and fuzzy inside. It’s more directed towards warm and pastel colors instead of vibrant colors)

Your ability to blend colors is fantastic! (Putting two different colors right next to each other can look jarring or choppy, so many artists will blend two or more colors together to make things look more natural and appealing. A good example is giving a character a subtle pink blush on their otherwise skin-colored cheeks)

You are super good at choosing color palettes! (Good for when the artists regularly chooses colors that just feel like they belong together. Best for when there are only a limited number of colors in the picture)

Your colors are so clean! (Layering color on top of color on top of color can make everything muddy and dull. Artists who blend things well will have “clean colors”. Likewise, some artists intentionally avoid blending to make simple, bold art, in which case their colors are very, very clean)

Light and Shadow

Conveying light and shadows can be really hard. It can take years to understand how lighting works, and it’s even harder to put your knowledge of it into practice. It can be done with colors, lines, textures, and many other ways.

Your lighting is so good! (A general compliment for any time you see good use of lighting. If you’re unsure, check the eyes and the face of the character, as they often have the most highlight to them)

You made great use of shadows here! (Good for when a dark area really captures your attention)

Your shadows feel so alive! (Artists can be really creative. They make dark areas that seem to move or curl or otherwise just be alive on the paper)

The lighting is so soft and gentle! (Like before, this is for art that just makes you feel soft inside! I think of a character maybe surrounded by light in a field of flowers when I imagine something like this)

You balance your shadows so well without making things too dark! (Using lots of dark colors to make shadows can make the picture hard to see, and details can get lost. If you see a picture with lots of shadows, but you can still easily see all the details, then the artists has really good balance and color control)

Your contrast of light and shadow is amazing! (Good for when the artists uses lots of both light and shadow! You often see pictures with a stark difference between the two, like a character standing in the light and the other falling into shadows, but you can also see good contrast in a more standard setting, like a city-scape set in the afternoon)

Details

Pointing out details is one of the fastest ways to make an artist feel seen. It’s harder to give examples for this because it will really, really boil down to the individual picture. The general rule is if you see something you like, say it! Try looking for things to point out, like:

A character’s expression (”She looks so angry!” or “His expression is so sad, I’m going to cry!” or “Wow! I can really tell what they’re thinking just from that expression alone!” or “You draw expressions so well!”)

Little things a character is doing/holding/etc. that may get overlooked (”I noticed you even clenched his fists! Good job!” or “I love her tiny hair clip!” or “You painted her nails to match his eye color! I love it!”)

Details in the background/landscape (”I love the little bird nest you included in the tree branches!” or “The way you draw water is so pretty! I wish I could swim in it!” or “Is that’s Character B’s hand in the background? So cool!” or “That is the softest cat; I want to pet it!” or “That food on the table is the tastiest thing I’ve ever seen!”)

Clothing! (”Her dress is so pretty!” or “Wow, you do such a good job drawing suits!” or “Her t-shirt is so funny!” or “That hat is so cute by the way!”)

The general idea here is just to say whatever comes to your mind, whether it be literally pointing out the obvious (example: “I love that you drew this character wearing a flower crown! Flowers are so pretty!”) or pointing out how the picture made you feel (example: “This picture makes me so happy, I wish I could eat it!”). Just say what you like about it. You don’t need to know fancy art terms. Saying “Your blues are so blue!” is a perfectly wonderful way to describe the three different shades of blue the artist used to draw an ocean. As long as you aren’t criticizing, you can’t really go wrong.

me, absolutely not an artist, desperately trying to articulate how much i like adore people's fanart: ouughgh the colors. there are so MANY of them!!!! and the lines,,,,,,,,,, they are made of lines.. impeccable

[maaarine]

Why are British teenage girls so unhappy? Here’s the answer (Caitlin Moran, The Times, Sep 13 2024)

"The report, by the Children’s Society, found that British 15-year-old girls are the most unhappy in Europe.

British girls aged 10-15 are “significantly less happy” with their life, appearance, family and school than the average boy — and their happiness is still declining.

Boys’ life satisfaction, meanwhile, remains broadly stable. (…)

But I still didn’t have an “aha!” moment about why this so disproportionately affects girls until… I talked to some teenage girls.

It was at a party, and I went to vape with them on the patio. Because I take my nicotine like children do.

“Duh — it’s the boys,” one said when I brought it up, as all the others agreed.

“The boys?” I asked.

My last book, What About Men?, had been all about how much boys struggle these days: their loneliness; their suicide rates. I’d spent the past year feeling very sympathetic towards boys.

“Yeah, well, who do you think they’re taking out their unhappiness on? It’s us,” another girl said.

“One boy at school used to draw a picture every day of how ugly I was,” a third girl said. “Every day for two years.”

“They’ve all got ‘Rate The Girls’ polls on their WhatsApps,” the first said. “They mark you down for weight gain, haircuts, what you say.”

“But then, if you’re hot, it’s just as bad, in a different way, because they’ll be talking about how they want to f*** you.”

The girls discussed coping techniques. Bad news: none of them worked.

“The only way you can stop them is if you become ‘one of the boys’ and hang out with them. But then,” the second girl said with a sigh, “all the other girls call you a slut. Because you’ve gone over to the boys’ side.”

“Surely it’s not all the boys?” I said. “There must be some nice boys?”

“Oh, yeah,” one girl said. “But they keep their heads down. Because… well, look.”

She showed me the Instagram account of her friend. Under every picture she posted of herself — smiling in a new dress; with her dog — dozens of anonymous accounts had replied with the most rank abuse.

“Fat.” “Slut.” “You gonna try and kill yourself again, for attention?”

“They’re all boys from her school,” she said. “And look, this one boy tried to defend her.”

I saw a series of messages from a brave teenage boy, posting things like, “You’re all big men, leaving these replies under anonymous accounts.”

As I could see, this boy immediately became a target too. Mainly accusations that he was “white knighting” this girl: “You wanna f*** her, bro?”

“So,” I asked, “you don’t think it’s social media pressure to be beautiful, or the economy, that’s making girls so sad?”

“Well, yeah, them too,” the first girl said. “But, Monday-Friday, 9-3, I’m not on social media. I’m not… in the economy. I’m just with these boys. And no one talks about how horrible they are.”

I thought about another recent report, showing a 30 per cent ideological gap between Gen Z men, who are increasingly conservative, and Gen Z women, who are increasingly progressive.

I thought about Andrew Tate, who has nine million mostly young male followers — and faces human trafficking charges, which he denies.

And I thought: maybe these girls are on to something. Maybe more people need to vape with teenage girls and ask them for the school gossip."

[watch-out-it-bites]

[A Litell Me Be Upon Ye....] I found a way to style new beanie and it makes me!! Very Hapoy. This outfit looks Very Different in person.,,.,,

[deebris]

Weight of Care

Simon Riley x little sister Reader (platonic!)

Synopsis: Simon, your older brother, has been your guardian since you were a baby. Amid the collapse of your family, he made the courageous choice to take you out of the house, raising you as if you were his own. However, despite being happy, your relationship is complicated. While you see Simon as a paternal figure, he struggles with the pain of being mistaken for one. His heart tightens every time you call him "daddy," and he thought you had managed to move past that—until you do it again one night.

Warnings: Just a little angst with a happy ending; reader is 6 years old.

Word count: 1.2k

“Did you brush your teeth?” Simon asked upon hearing your muffled laughter. He opened the bedroom door, its walls now marked by your numerous drawings. Toys scattered across the floor shifted as he entered, and with the first step he took inside, something cracked underfoot, breaking.

“How many times have I told you that you need to put your toys away after playing?” he said firmly, shooting you a stern look. Simon hated messiness, but with you around, it seemed impossible to keep everything in order.

“I was going to put them away,” you murmured, embarrassed by the scolding. But your guilty expression quickly turned into a tearful grimace as your eyes fell your sheep, now shattered on the floor. “You broke it!” Your childish scream echoed through the room, and you hurried to gather the pieces with trembling hands.

“If you had put it away, this wouldn’t have happened,” he accused you, hoping it would serve as a lesson. Maybe then you would finally start to be more responsible with your things. And even knowing he was right, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness at seeing your broken sheep.

Watching you wipe your tears with the sleeve of the pajamas and hearing sniffles made his heart soften. It was frustrating how he simply couldn’t stay mad at you. The last thing Simon wanted was for you to become a spoiled child, but in that moment, it was hard to maintain his sternness.

He already felt guilty for not being able to take care of you completely due to work, and knowing that Mrs. Trelawney, your babysitter, was much more lenient than he was only made everything harder. Every time Simon came home, you seemed more stubborn and whiny.  

“Come on, it’s time to sleep.” He lifted you by your armpits and placed you in bed, pulling up the yellow blanket that you loved so much. You had already taken a bath and were wearing clean lilac pajamas covered with stars. “I’ll buy you another one, you don’t need to cry.”  

“But it’s not the same,” you murmured as he collected the toy pieces from your hand, placing them on the dresser to throw away tomorrow. Some parts were sharp, so he checked your delicate hands, worried about possible cuts.  

“It’s the same,” he insisted, sighing tiredly as he tucked your feet under the blanket. Surprisingly, you didn’t argue, remaining strangely silent. “What’s wrong?”  

“Sorry,” you whispered, feeling bad for upsetting him. “I promise I’ll put it away.”

Your promise made him cast a quick glance at the bedroom floor, where pink, blue, and all other colored toys were scattered. Even your dolls were out of place, thrown in various corners. He still felt frustrated because you always said you would tidy up and never did, but this time it seemed different, so he decided to put a bit of faith in your word.  

“Tomorrow. Now you need to sleep.” He stood up to leave, but suddenly remembered something:  

“Teeth.” Simon said, and you blew near his face, letting him feel the freshness of mint on your breath. “Show me your tongue.” He spoke in a suspicious tone, knowing that you sometimes didn’t clean your mouth well. “Good.” He praised, satisfied to see you sticking your tongue out, then making a face, which made him laugh inside.  

He turned off the bedside lamp, watching you settle into the pillow, and began to move toward the door. But hearing your naive voice, he stopped in his tracks, his heart tightening:  

“Daddy, can I go to the museum with my class tomorrow?”  

“What?” Simon asked, stunned, still turned away from you, his hand frozen on the doorknob. Surprise echoed in his voice, mixed with a thread of worry. He slowly turned around, trying to decipher the expectation in your gaze.  

It had been so long since you last called him that. Simon thought he had finally managed to correct you after so many attempts, but he realized that wasn’t working. He had lost count of how many times he repeated that he was just your older brother, but deep down, he knew he was guilty. In trying to erase any trace of your father in your life, he had created a space where that confusion was natural. It was understandable that you saw him this way.  

“Miss Sarah is taking us to the museum tomorrow. Can I go?” You repeated the question, oblivious to the tension in his shoulders.  

“Why didn’t you ask earlier?” Simon swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure.  

“I forgot,” you explained, sitting up in bed to grab a piece of paper from your backpack. It was a permission slip for guardians to sign, allowing the trip. “Please?” You pouted, holding the paper in one hand and one of your decorated pencils in the other, as if that could increase your chances.  

“To the museum?” He asked, his voice tinged with melancholy. Simon sat on the edge of the bed, already starting to sign his name on the line, but his mind wandered to a distant place, filled with his conflicting memories and feelings.  

The situation between you two was complicated. You were the only family Simon had left, a little girl. He still remembers when he found out that his mother was pregnant and, even more, the first time he saw you. He had been away from home for several years, and coming back always felt torturous. But the idea of having something so small and innocent waiting for him was what truly saved him. 

Simon took you from home long before your parents died, unable to bear the thought of you growing up in that environment. After his brother died, he projected all the fears and regrets an older brother could carry onto you. It was as if you were his only way to redeem himself for Tommy. You were so young that you barely remembered the rest of the family; for you, the world revolved around Simon.  

He didn’t even realize he was wandering until he felt you gently pull the paper from his hands. Your big eyes locked onto his for a moment, filled with concern, until you broke eye contact, standing to put the paper away and lie back down, pulling the blanket over yourself.  

“Are you okay?” You asked, noticing he was still standing there, lost in thought. The nervousness in your voice snapped Simon back to reality, bringing him to the stillness of the room, where silence hung between you.  

Simon thought of several things to say, like, “You know I’m your brother, right?” or “We’ve talked about this,” but it felt like a never-ending cycle. It was as if nothing could stop you from continuing to call him that. He didn’t understand why it bothered him so much. He knew that, in practice, he played the role of a father in your life, something he chose for himself. Even so, every time he heard, a strange sensation coursed through his body.  

“Good night.” He simply said in his deep, familiar voice, but now, something different was in the air. For the first time, he didn’t try to correct or resist, finally allowing himself to accept the way you called him ‘daddy.’  

You hesitated for a moment, sensing something strange about him before responding softly: “Good night, Si.” And a faint smile formed on his lips, something rare, as if, at last, something had clicked into place.

Taglist: @aenishas

[voidrulerora]

literally all of my mutuals are so based bro. just a few weeks back i was having a convo with my friend about this and I was like "LOOK WHAT THEY DID TO MY BOY!!! LOOK WHAT THEY'VE DONE!!!". Never forgetting the art where I was like "oh what a cool OC" then found out it was Morris KHDDKS You all get me and I absolutely adore that.

“I hate you” is boring. “I hope your favorite non human character gets drawn as white twink." is unique. it’s terrifying. it’s possible. it's true. it's happening.

[teslacoils-and-hubris]

There's this show i only watched one episode of called ugliest house in America, and the premise is that the host goes around America looking at submitted ugly houses and the Most Ugly house gets remodeled at the end of the season.

All this only matters because the one episode I caught made me just.... really sad. They show three houses per episode and I don't really remember the other two houses because they were bland and not that interesting, but the one house, the one that won that round and was closer to being remodeled was obviously an artists house.

Everything in this house had been customized around the previous owners life Pasion: birds. And I do mean everything. They had literally printed out dozens of various drawings of birds and plastered them onto the basement wall. They had made tile mosseics of cranes right on the front entrance. Drawn egrets with what I'm pretty sure were crayons on the walls. And it was really obvious how many hours and how much love went into making this house something beautiful to that artist. And here it was, being toured around on television, touted as the ugliest house in America.

Every time they saw another bird the show played up the hosts surprise and eventually disgust. How WEEIRD that this unnamed, presumably dead artist was soooo into birds that they carefully crafted their whole life around them. The attic was an aviary for (the current owners assumed) pigeons. How silly and foolish and stupid that artist was for ruining the market value of their home by making it a shrine to something they loved. Do I blame the current owners? No. Of course not. I certainly wouldn't want to live in a house plastered wall to wall with birds with an attic that still smells like bird. But it's just..... the way they talked about it was upsetting.

There was no compassion for the person who put so much time and effort into lovingly crafting a house they really were happy in. The genuinely well done and skilled crayon drawings on the wall talked about the exact same way as you'd talk about a stain on the carpet. Unsightly. Strange. Unmarketable.

I look at my own room, lovingly crafted to be my oasis after a hard day. Halloween decoration sticker bats permanently on the wall. The ufo mural I spent a good month on that would probably be more at home in a minigolf course than a bedroom. Years of artwork both handmade and purchased tacked up to the walls. How much of it would the host mock. Teal walls sanded down and painted the off-white eggshell of marketability. It's going to happen regardless, I can't take the mural with me and even if I live in this house until I die someone will be here after me and they probably won't want it. But there's a certain kind of.... humiliating exposure of watching someone's heart and soul get torn apart on television. The ugliest house in America.

[ghostorbz]

I hate them I hope they live a happy life

yt link

OKAY SO!!!!! HERE'S ALL THE OTHER UNIVERSES N EXPLANATIONS HEHEHE

The bologna

They never came up with a conclusion, so there's a canon branch off where they just,,, stay bologna for the rest of their lives

FISHHH

In issue 40 (which I talk about here!) Recap Kid sees all the different universes Zim and Dib are in. One of them being where they are fish

The fuuuuutureeeee

In Dibs wonderful life of doom Zim creates a simulation of Dibs adult life to try and get him to confess that he threw a muffin at him, one scene shows that Dib captured Zim. I don't think this is canon but I added it anyway

MOPINESS OF DOOOOMMMM ☹️

This almost made me cry while drawing it!!! AUAGHHHDH mopiness of doom always makes me sad omg. but this is referencing near the end where they reunite :)

Zimvoid,,,

Okay, I KNOW it LOOKS like Zib is alone, but he's not! Technically! One of my favorite headcanons is that Zib can hear Zims voice in his head because of his PAK, so technically Zim is there,,,

Some other ideas I had were a swap au and the technical "canon" ending. Also the colliding universes we saw in enter the florpus!! I didn't have enough space to fit everything in though :/

[punkshort]

i’m the anon who asked about the request! if you decide to do it, i’d absolutely wait forever😂 it’s very angsty tho, so the idea was for outbreak joel who doesn’t get the happy ending. reader who was head over heels in love coping with his death, maybe flashbacks to show the moments of reader seeing him die? idkidk the idea is very vague, sorry if it’s too sad!! if so maybe reader seeing him die was just a terrible nightmare & he’s there waking them up & helping them through a meltdown?

i’ve been craving for some emotional torture for wtv reason😭😭 thank you for even considering requests!🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

Thank you for this request! It's my first one, so I hope you enjoy it. Also, I had to take the out you gave me and make this a nightmare because I am a big ol' softie and I won't apologize for it, but I will apologize for taking so long to write it 😂

I hate when you're right

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: After a heated argument with Joel, you finally convince him into leaving Jackson so you could explore a store for new clothes, and what happens could change your life forever.

Warnings: major character (Joel) death - but it is just a nightmare - don't read if you think that will still upset you, angst, language, violence, descriptions of blood/gore/death scene

WC: 2.5K

dividers by the one and only @saradika-graphics

You knew it was childish. You knew it wasn't essential. But you also desperately wanted to feel more comfortable, and was that really such a crime? To want to feel like yourself again? To want to wear clothes that you liked? That fit you properly? Jackson was well stocked with essentials, clothes included, but the clothes the men picked up on patrol were... utilitarian, to say the least. They grabbed the biggest and the warmest clothes so that it afforded more people the opportunity to use them, but you were beginning to grow tired of tucking men's oversized shirts into your pants, the material bunching up at your waist and twisting around as you walked, constantly trying and failing to feel comfortable in your own skin.

You thought Joel would be more open to the idea of heading outside the walls on your day off. You even teased him with the promise of picking up some new underwear, but he didn't fall for it. He fought you tooth and nail the whole evening, his voice lifting over yours angrily to explain how there's been an influx of raiders the past few weeks, that everyone agreed to lay low until they passed through, not wanting to draw attention or pick any unwanted fights. But you persisted. You always did, and you eventually wore him down when you threatened to leave without him.

Why was it such a crime to want to feel comfortable? It was just two people, you could lay low and go unseen, no problem. You've done it countless times before.

You had hoped he would have gotten over it by morning, but you were wrong. He hardly made eye contact with you during breakfast, skirting expertly around you in your kitchen, mumbling under his breath as he sipped his coffee and only shooting you angry looks when your back was turned.

The air was crisp and the woods were peaceful. You thought that would surely turn his mood around. He always appreciated being out with nature, living off the land. As much as he loved living in Jackson, he couldn't deny that part of himself that felt useful, that felt a sense of accomplishment by surviving out in the wild.

"C'mon, are you really gonna act like this all day?" you teased as you held up another shirt against your body before determining it was the right size and then tossed it in a pile with the others.

He was standing at the storefront window with his arms crossed and his jaw clenched. "Don't know what you mean."

You rolled your eyes and looked around the store, spotting a table of underwear with a grin. You lightly skipped over and tossed to the side the pairs that looked far too dusty so you could look at the ones underneath. Clearing your throat, you held up a pair of bright red stain underwear. He turned around and you saw it: it was fast, he hid it well, but you still saw it. That all too familiar excited look in his eye.

"Don't you like them?" you asked with a playful pout. He furrowed his brow at you like he was annoyed, and maybe he was, but you still saw the heat beginning to crawl up his neck.

"They ain't practical."

You gave him a defeated sigh and strolled over to your pile of clothes, your fingertips daintily holding the undergarment out to him. "No? Then what are they?"

His eyes shifted from yours to the red material in your hand and you saw his throat work as he swallowed.

"Useless," he croaked, and you narrowed your eyes at him. You got a little closer, letting the soft fabric glide against the back of his hand when you dropped your arm to your side.

"Oh, yeah?" you said breathily, and you watched his eyelids flutter at your tone. "Then I guess it wouldn't matter if I brought them home and let you rip them off me."

He stepped forward, a growl emitting from his chest, low and deep, when at the exact same time, you both heard shouting outside the store. Swiveling both your heads towards the glass storefront, your blood ran cold when you saw six heavily armed men advancing towards you.

"Shit," he muttered, his arm pulling your shoulder down just in time to avoid the cascade of bullets that rained down upon you. You laid face down on the rough carpet, covering the back of your head with your eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the shooting to stop. Joel tugged on your arm and you opened your eyes in a panic.

"Follow me!" he shouted, army crawling towards the registers, and you dutifully followed behind, your heart racing wildly in your chest.

Once you made it, the counter offering some, but not much, safety, the both of you pulled out your guns and double checked your ammo.

"Alright, when they stop to reload-"

"I know," you said, cutting him off. You've both been in this situation before. You knew what to do.

Holding your rifle upright and against your chest, you breathed deep, trying to steady your hands until the bullets slowed and you heard more shouting. Joel nodded to you and you both sprung up from the floor, pulling your rifles against your bodies in sync and lining up your targets.

Patience is a virtue. The amount of ammunition they wasted on the two of you was laughable when you each caught one of them between the eyes, leaving four against two.

You thought you would be able to get another shot off but Joel tugged your arm and you slinked back to the floor as a shower of bullets rained over you once again.

"You good?" he asked, and you nodded, gasping for air. Your hands began to stabilize when the shock wore off. You were in the zone.

Pressing both your backs against the small counter, you remained calm and waited out your attackers. Glass shards tinkled and scattered behind you. Bullets pinged against the metal shelving, ricocheting into the drywall.

"Assault rifles for two people? Really?" you muttered, more so to yourself, but Joel heard you.

"Told you this was a bad fuckin' idea," he said angrily.

When there was another brief pause, he looked to you again and nodded. At the same time, you rose up and took aim, firing on your attackers once again. Joel made his shot, you didn't. Three down, three to go.

"Fuck," you grumbled, reloading your rifle even though you still had rounds left.

"Focus," he scolded.

The men sounded like they were getting closer. Their voices were louder. Clearer. The shots were deafening. You prayed they weren't inside the store, because you hadn't planned an exit strategy. Without warning, Joel stood up and fired a shot. You heard a man scream and then a loud thud. It sounded like the man was just on the other side of the counter.

"That's not the plan," you seethed at him when he dropped back down next to you.

"Didn't have a choice, he was 'bout to jump us," he sneered.

Two against two.

When the shots slowed down, you held your breath, looking at Joel from the corner of your eye. He held his palm up to you silently, signaling for you to stay where you were. You heard boots crunching slowly against glass and your heart leapt into your throat. They were in the store.

You shot Joel a panicked look but he just shook his head, focusing on their footsteps, calculating how far away they were.

"Come out now and no one gets hurt," a man's deep voice called out. He was close.

Joel clenched his jaw and flared his nostrils. You knew that look. It was the look of a man who was about to do something stupid. But before you could stop him, before you could reach out to him and hold him back, he stood up and took aim.

One shot. That was all you heard when Joel slumped to the floor next to you, clutching his stomach as dark red blood poured from the wound. Your eyes went wide and you saw red. Without thinking, you stood up and shot, taking one of the two men down with a yelp. The remaining raider ducked behind a display, and you dropped your rifle in favor of your handgun. Crouching low to the ground, you inched forward, careful of any broken glass that would give your position away. When you were on the other side of the display, you heard the man's labored breaths. He was scared. He was out of his element. And you had him right where you wanted him.

Silently tucking the gun in the back of your pants, you slid your hunting knife out from your ankle holster. You took a deep breath and lunged forward, driving the knife deep into the man's chest.

He dropped his gun and clutched weakly at your hands, but it was no use. His blood poured from the wound when you yanked your knife out with a grunt, and you watched as his hands slowly slid back down to his sides, his eyes still wide open and staring up at the ceiling.

You smirked, feeling victorious for only a moment before you remembered Joel. Dropping your knife, you rushed back to his side, only to find his face pale and his hands stained dark red.

"Joel!" you cried out, pressing your palms against the wound, hoping to slow the bleeding. His eyes drifted towards you, softening when he saw you were alive and unharmed. That you were going to make it.

Panic consumed you. Your heart was slamming against your ribs as you fumbled with your backpack, trying to find your first aid kit through the tears.

"I love you," he whispered, and you shook your head.

"Don't start with that, you're gonna be fine."

"Baby," he said weakly, and you choked back a sob.

"Hold on," you told him, still searching in your pack.

"Look at me," he said, and your hands stilled for a moment before you dragged your eyes back to him, your lower lip trembling as you took in his deteriorating state.

"I need to-" you began, but stopped to take in a shaky breath. "I need to patch you up and get you to the horses."

"No, you don't," he said softly, and more tears spilled from your eyes.

"Yes, I do. I gotta-"

"I ain't gonna make it, sweetheart," he slurred, and you could see by the amount of blood he was losing that he was right. But still, you pressed your palms against the gunshot wound, your fingers slipping through his thick and sticky blood.

"Don't say that. I can't do this without you," you whimpered, and closed your eyes for a brief moment. You felt his fingertips weakly grip your chin and you forced your eyes back open.

"Yes, you can," he said as firmly as he could. He was so pale and weak and it was making your stomach turn.

You shook your head, about to argue with him, but he stopped you.

"You keep goin', you hear me?" he said, and still, you shook your head from side to side, small sobs slipping past your lips. "Don't let this world win. You... go on and keep fightin'. Please. Be happy, baby. For me."

"No!" you cried out, spittle dripping from your lips now, mixing with your tears. "I won't! I-I can't!"

"You can," he repeated, and gave you a weak smile. "I'm ready, baby. It'll be okay."

You squeezed your eyes shut tight, the tears leaking out, hot and angry on your cheeks as you sobbed over him, clutching his hand in yours so tightly, like if you squeezed hard enough, you could give him your lifeforce. Give him your breath. But moments later, his grip weakened and when you opened your eyes, his head slumped to the side and his lifeless eyes stared off into the distance.

"Joel!" you screamed, sitting up in bed, drenched in sweat with tears still streaming down your face. You looked to your side, where he normally slept, but he wasn't there. Panic squeezed your throat, your chest fucking hurt, but you flung the blankets off you and ran towards the door. Still not hearing any sounds, you raced down the stairs, almost tripping in the process but you had a grip on the railing to keep you steady.

When your eyes finally landed on his familiar form stretched out on the couch, his back to you, you allowed yourself to breathe a sigh of relief.

Reality came back to you now. You had your fight about leaving Jackson, but he won and you slept apart. You never left. He never got shot. It was all just a horrible dream.

You stumbled over to the couch, your tears unstoppable, the nightmare too vivid, too real. Your trembling hands clutched his shoulder as you fell to your knees on the floor, shaking him awake.

"What?" he grumbled, clearly still pissed off about your fight.

"I'm sorry!" you sobbed loudly, and when he realized something was wrong, he whipped around to face you.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

"I-I had-" you began, then you hiccupped, cutting yourself off. His face was etched with concern as he forced himself up and cupped your face.

"C'mon, talk to me," he urged, the fear in his eyes reflecting back to you as you looked at him, still not sure what was real and what wasn't.

"I had a nightmare," you finally managed to get out. "About our fight. That we... we went out like I wanted and-and-" you collapsed into another fit of sobs, your shoulders shaking violently.

"Hey, it's alright," he soothed, pulling you up and into his lap and rubbing your back. You pressed your tear stained face into his neck, inhaling deeply, grounding yourself. He was alive. He was here. Everything was fine.

"I'm sorry," you whimpered, your throat still tight but your tears were slowing down. "I'm sorry we fought. I don't wanna go out anymore. I don't need new clothes, it was stupid, I'm sorry."

"Shh, it's okay," he said, pulling you tightly against his chest, "I'm sorry we fought, too. I just wanna keep us safe."

"I know, you're right," you said, pulling back a bit and wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "Will you come back to bed?"

"Yeah," he replied with half a smirk. "'Course I'll come back to bed, baby. Don't cry, it's alright."

You let him lead you up the stairs and to your bedroom, your side of the bed still damp with sweat but it didn't bother you. Joel was safe and sound and in your arms and you didn't care if you had to wear a potato sack for the rest of your life, as long as you had Joel, nothing else mattered.

follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

[mcrslover]

MCR quotes for anyone who needs them:

"Kids would say they were going to kill themselves then they heard our music... it's our mission"

- Mikey Way.

...

"Reasons why mcr is good for you

juradsleigh:

Feeling like a rad vampire? Listen to bullets

Feeling angry? Listen to 3 cheers

Feeling sad? Listen to black parade

Feeling colourful and happy? Listen to danger days

Feeling like breaking up your band? Listen to death never stop you"

...

"This is for every kid out there... That dyed their hair a fucked up colour and can't get a job. They got a tattoo on their neck like Frank, and can't get a job. That does this because they fuckin' love this. This song is for every kid in the audience- even if you don't have fucked up hair or tattoos-every kid on stage, this song's about us, this song's about you, it's called The Kids From Yesterday."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Stop covering your children's eyes.

Everything is fucked up and pretending it's not won't make it any better. I'm tired of people praying for a change when it's up to them to get off their asses and make a change."

- Frank Iero.

...

"I spent most of my time in the back of the class, just drawing. My goal was to not get noticed in school, because spent so long not being noticed anyway or being treated as if I were invisible that I started to like it.

I've learned that it's actually not very lonely... It's like, you have less friends but the friends you have count more. I met a lot of people that weren't outsiders, or they were very popular, and they have a lot of friends but I don't know if they're the kinds of friends you would call up at 3 am to help you out or talk about being depressed."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Promise me, when MCR's gone, you'll do what it takes to survive. You're strong enough to do it without us."

- Gerard Way.

...

"All your quirks and all your problems, even your depressions, and your failures that's.. that's what makes you, you."

- Gerard Way.

...

"If you or someone you know is severely depressed you need to fucking talk to someone! Your mom, someone in school, I don't give a fuck! Because suicide is fucking bullshit."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Being happy doesn't mean that everything is perfect. It means that you've decided to look beyond the imperfections."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Nothing is worth hurting yourself over, nothing is worth taking your life over"

- Gerard Way.

...

"If we never play another show again, just keep yourself alive."

- Gerard Way.

...

"We're outsiders, we're the kids who didn't get dates for the prom, we're the kids who were confused, who didn't fit in with the cliques, who weren't part of the in-crowd.

Growing up can be a very frightening and confusing time, and I think people look at us and see it's okay to be different. They see that there is a way other than what they're being offered. That you can stand out, that you can be creative, that you can be yourself."

- Gerard Way.

...

"gerard-hey:

I love MCR so much it's like they have a song for every situation. Feeling sad? Listen to The Lights Behind Your Eyes. Feeling frustrated? Listen to I'm Not Okay. Feeling Energetic? Listen to Na Na Na. Feeling like you wanna kick some ass? Listen to Destroya.

Feeling rebellious? Listen to Teenagers. Feel like you wanna break up your band? Listen to Fake Your Death."

...

"The difference we want to make is, number one, to let these kids know that they're not alone, that they're actually not that messed up, and that they can do whatever they want they can express themselves in any way they want without being persecuted or called a faggot or some kind of racist thing. Really just get people to get over their stuff so they can live."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Whatever happens to you, no matter what, l'm always fucking there for you... Don't forget that. I don't give a shit if your boyfriend dumps you. If your girlfriend dumps you. If you're working a shitty job or can't get through school. If you can't get through a fucking Harry Potter book, there's nothing worth dying over. There's nothing worth taking your life over. I will always fucking be there."

- Gerard Way.

...

"If you come to an MCR show, you're probably a little fucked up, and that's okay because we're just as fucked up as you. It's us against the world. And it's great because there's thousands of us in one place."

- Gerard Way.

...

"Someone doesn't like you? Fuck it.

Having a bad day? Fuck it. Didn't get that job, or that grade, or that promotion you wanted? Fuck it. Fighting with your lover? Fuck it. Feel fat today? Fuck it. Losing control of everything and everyone? Fuck it.

What matters now won't matter soon; the truly important thing is that you are alive, and that you have the capacity to do absolutely anything with this beautiful, crazy coincidence of being on this earth. Just stick your middle fingers in the air and think, 'Damn, I have it good."

- Gerard Way.

...

"You're going to come across a lot of shitty bands, and a lot of shitty people. And if anyone of those people call your names because of what you look like, or bedause they don't accept you for who you are. I want you to look right at that mother fucker, stick up your middle finger and scream

"FUCK YOU!!"

- Gerard Way.

...

"Real revenge is making something of yourself."

- Gerard Way.

❤️🖤❤️🖤

[yelenasdiary]

for the a widows sunshine series what about when y/n’s school is having like one of those parent days where the kids parents come to the school to do fun activities and natasha has to tell her that she can’t make it because of work or something like that and y/n is really sad about that.

so instead wanda surprises her by showing up for her which makes y/n really excited. i didn’t have a specific age in mind but maybe this could be for the 5-10 age range.

Afternoon Tea Party

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Daughter! Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: When your mom can’t get out of work for a kindergarten event, Wanda takes it upon herself to surprise you. 

Tiny Angst, Comfort

Warnings: None | 0.9K

AC: Thank you for sending this! Reader is 5 in this, perfect for just before they call Wanda ‘mama’ at age 6! I hope you enjoy this! x 

A Widow’s Sunshine Masterlist

“Rough night?” Wanda asked Natasha while the red head poured herself a mug of coffee. “Nah, I just dropped Y/n off at kindergarten and spend 20 minutes in the parking lot to get her to stop crying before I walked her in” Natasha replied, sipping her coffee. 

“Is she okay?” Wanda asked.

“She has this afternoon tea thing, and I can’t get out of training the new recruits so I can’t go. She was really excited about it” Natasha explains, sighing to herself knowing she had let her daughter down. “Why don’t I go? I mean, only if you’re okay with it” Wanda suggested, causing a soft smile to tug at Nat’s lips. 

“You would do that?” She asked. 

“Of course, I’d love too” the brunette smiled. Nat kissed her softly, “you are a life saver, thank you! It starts at 1pm, take my credit card and buy a fruit salad or something to take” she replied. 

“Don’t stress, I’ve got this. You on the other hand, don’t need this” Wanda said, taking the coffee from Nat’s hand, “you only drink more than one cup of coffee when you’re stressed, have some juice or water and leave the rest up to me!” She added. 

----

You, along with your other classmates helped the teacher set up the family event by placing a spread of snacks on the table for guests to help themselves too. You wished your teacher would let you sit in her office to draw while everybody else had fun but your teacher said no and encouraged you to take part in the event. 

As parents started to arrive, you only got sadder knowing that you’d be one of the only students without your parent showing up. It was moments like these that you hated your mother’s job and didn’t understand why she couldn’t come. 

Quietly, you snuck off to the corner of the classroom where the books were and made yourself comfortable on one of the beanbags and looked at the picture book in hopes of ignoring the event taking place around you. 

“What are you reading there?” A familiar voice made you look up from the picture book. 

“Wanda!!” You jumped up, dropping the book and instantly giving her a tight hug, “are you here for afternoon tea?” You asked, looking up at her. 

“I sure am! I even brought some apple and orange slices; can you show me where I can put them?” Wanda asked with a soft smile. You took her free hand and took her to the snack table where she placed the fruit slices down. “Over here we have drinks you can help yourself too! Do you want a drink?” You asked, full of happiness. 

Wanda loved seeing how happy and excited you were for her to be here, “Sure! I could do with a drink” she replied before you rushed over to the drinks table and waited for Wanda to help you pour some juice for the two of you. 

After you and Wanda enjoyed your juice, you took Wanda to the wall where plenty of artwork was hanging, you showed her the painting of the beach you had painted a few days ago before showing her the robot you made from boxes which you named uncle tony. 

“And this is a folder is all about me!” You said, giving her the folder with your name on the front that you had proudly decorated. Just as Wanda started to have a good look through the folder, one of your teachers had announced that it was time to take your family member or family friend to one of the activity tables to take part in. You had your eyes set on the paper puppet making table and quickly grabbed Wanda’s hand before rushing over to the table. 

You grabbed a piece of green A4 paper while Wanda grabbed a pink piece of paper. “I’m going to make a frog!” You beamed as you reached for a piece of red paper. Wanda smiled softly before she had a quick look over the instructions sheet, once she had an idea of how to make a paper puppets, she offered to fold your green paper as shown in the instructions.

“What are you going to make Wanda?” You asked, using the kid friendly scissors to begin cutting out the shape of your frog’s tongue. 

“I think I might make a little bunny” Wanda replied as she finished up folding the green paper for your frog. “I like bunnies! I wish I could have one as a pet, but mommy says we can’t have pets in our new home” you replied.

“An apartment is no place for a bunny, maybe you could ask to keep one at your uncle Clint’s house” the brunette suggested. You face lit up at the idea, “I’m going to ask her when I go home today!!” You smiled before reaching for the glue. 

Wanda helped you glue some extra pieces of paper on the head for the eyes and even helped you cut out some white and black circles to make the eyes, once satisfied with your frog, you wrote your name on the back and placed the crafty frog on your hand. 

“I’m going to name her Miss Hoppies!” You smiled at Wanda. 

“Miss Hoppies looks awesome! Do you think she will like being friends with Cupcake?” Wanda replied, placing the bunny puppet on her hand. You chuckled at the name Wanda had picked for her puppet, “that’s a funny name for a bunny” you said, “but I like it!” You added. 

The two of you then played with the puppets together, having Wanda surprise you made you forget the reason why your mother couldn’t come. Although you were still sad that you couldn’t do this with her, you couldn’t wait to show her the puppets you and Wanda had made.

Taglist: @koinsss | @liloandstitchstan | @marcia-maximoff | @skittlebum | @katethewritersblog | @taliiiaasteria | @nova-kyle | @daddipantherr | @riyaexee | @sgm616 | @elle161989 | @alphalesbianwolffoxdragontribrid | @mathxa | @sxlfishbrokenheart | @noturlondonboy | @lovelyy-moonlight | @ghxst-guts | 

If you want to be on the taglist for this series, please see the masterlist. It's linked at the top of this post.

[greenfinchg-illustration]

Hiii!

@ the pride month fanart, I would love to see Sailor Uranus and Sailor Neptune in your style, if that is something that sounds good to you and you have the time 🥰.

I am also a big fan of your Isobel and Dame Aylin paintings. You capture them so lovely, one can never say no to more of that!

Love your work! Happy Pride and have a lovely day! 💖✨

Like every year, I asked my Tumblr followers which fanart they would like to see from me for pride. I started with the suggestion of @haeluin , Uranus and Neptune. This illustration was a little challenge for me. Although I know this TV show from my childhood, I have never drawn anything about it. but I had so much fun. When I was little I always wanted to draw magical girls. haha. I still love it.

But there is one thing I would like to talk about. Because this was the first time I've drawn these characters and it's been a long time since I've seen the show, I went to Pinterest to look for references. I had to scroll for a long, loooong time until the first fanart and original artwork came up. I almost only saw generated “art”. That makes me so sad. Sailor Moon is one of the first fandoms I can remember. The internet has always been full of self made art from this wonderful show. How many of us discovered anime and manga through Sailor Moon? and also the love of drawing. I have the feeling that all these wonderful works have now been replaced by carelessly generated art. it's such a shame. It's no secret that I'm not a big fan of generated art. But the fact that it's becoming increasingly difficult to find human -made art (and the original illustrations) is incredibly sad.