#i always gotta do my pencils in a sketchbook

[lemon-wedges]

Nights are a little hard for me right now so before bed ill just talk about some of my fav artists

wilhelm m busch

Simple, clean, fluid. Ahhhhhhhhhh so many of his figures are nicely shaped, and his pen feels like it never stops moving. I've learned that a well placed squiggle where clothing fold should be do a pretty good job conveying what u need

Denys wortman

I'm always sad there's not much of his work online. I bought his book a while ago and mWUAH. This guy is a genuis at handling crowd composition. Groups of 2 groups of 5 groups of 10 groups of 50??? Hes done them all. He makes pencil work look so easy. Do u know how many sketchbook drawings I've destroyed because I wanted to try out his shading???

Not much honestly. I gotta practice more

[crackedpumpkin]

ʙʟᴀɴᴋ ᴄᴀɴᴠᴀꜱ || ᴘᴛ. ᴏɴᴇ ||

[ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

“If there is a god out there, please make sure my order isn’t missing any pickles this time.”

“Here ya go, extra pickles on the side,” Mr. Perez, the store owner, grunts as he all but flings a wrapped sub into your hands from behind the counter. You grab it with relative ease, undeterred by how oddly soggy the parchment paper is. It’s a slow day in the sub shop, with many of its usual customers absent. 

“How much?” 

“Five bucks.”

“How’s Didi?” You ask, fishing out a crumpled five-dollar bill in your pocket and handing it to him. You drop another into the tip jar when his back is turned, humming innocently when he faces you with a bag of small cookies.

“The usual. Slightly less of the devil incarnate lately, though. I think it’s because you’re coming over to babysit more often.” You take the cookies gratefully, a small note written in the ten-year-old’s messy scrawl glued to the side. You stash it away in your backpack, ensuring it doesn’t get crushed behind your sketchbook and pencil case.

“Is that y/n?” You hear the clatter of plates being shoved aside, Didi peeking out from behind the blinds that separate the storefront from the stairs that lead upstairs to their house. You smile but realize she won’t be able to see it through your cloth mask.

“In the flesh,” You grin, scooping Didi into a tight hug. You prop her on your hip, transferring the sub to your free hand as she giggles. “Have you made any new friends in school?”

Her lips purse into a pout, fiddling with your hair with sulky eyes. “No…They’re all stinky. Except for Maribelle, because she likes pickles.”

“Does no one else like pickles, then?” You ask curiously, Didi shaking her head. 

“Tommy and Jam like them, but they’re boys,” She informs you in complete and utter seriousness. You’re so tempted to comment, but you know that if you did, she’d sulk for at least half an hour.

“Jam?”

“Yeah, Jam.”

“Are you sure that’s his name?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright then,” You shrug, turning your head to the side so she can’t see the amused glint in your eyes. 

“Are you headed to the bank?” Mr. Perez asks offhandedly, cleaning one of his bread knives with a damp cloth.

“Gotta cash in the moolah,” You rub your fingers together in reference to the cheque that’s buried somewhere in the bottom of the heavy bag on your shoulders. You had recently finished a commission, and your client had tipped you generously, paying you an extra fifty bucks on top of the two hundred she was already paying. 

“Can I come? I wanna come. I’m going,” Didi demands as she braids a few strands of your hair. You look back at Mr. Perez for permission, the gruff man nodding in response. 

“Okay, but make sure you always stay with me, yeah?” Didi nods eagerly, kicking your side slightly as she points to the door. You leave the store with her in your arms, making your way to the bank. 

“Can we buy Legos?” You hum in thought, trying to decide how to reject Didi’s request without being too harsh. She tugs the beanie on your head, and it slides down to just above your eyes. You chuckle, using the back of your preoccupied sub-carrying hand to shift it back up slightly.

“Do you have enough money to buy some?”

“I got money!” Didi’s small hands search her pockets, patting down until she finds what she’s looking for. She pulls out a ten-dollar bill with a triumphant smile, eyes shining with anticipation as she looks at you. 

“Then we’ll buy some on the way back, yeah?” You offer, already seeing the money leave your wallet when you pay for the leftover cost of the Lego set.

“Hmm…Okay!” Didi agrees after a moment of thought, clapping her hands together and urging you to walk faster. You break into a slight jog just to tease her, soon reaching the doors of the large bank. 

You push past the huge glass doors with your shoulder, the sub still in your hands. You couldn’t put it in your bag, fearing it’d ruin your cherished sketchbook and, even worse, the crumpled cheque buried somewhere near it. 

You eye the long lines for each counter, groaning at the thought of a prolonged wait. You scan the hall, trying to find the shortest queue. 

There. You quickly join the line of people waiting, breathing a sigh of relief when you see a few more people join your queue right after you do. The bank is mostly quiet; the only sounds are fingers clacking away on keyboards and hushed conversations of bank account details. 

A trio of men wearing black cloth masks stand in a corner, furtively glancing around and having a hushed conversation amongst themselves. Two large bags are on the floor next to the shortest one, all three nodding at each other before the other two pick up the bags and head towards the door while the shortest approaches the information counter with another bag slung on his hip.

Huh. Maybe they have social anxiety. 

You watch them converse with the clerk, half your attention on Didi, who’s tugging on your hair while braiding it out of boredom. You spot the clerk smiling nervously in your peripheral, brushing it off as the usual horrible customer service interaction.

You focus on Didi instead, jostling her slightly in your arms. She yelps, lips pursing into a scowl when she’s disturbed from her concentrated braiding. You giggle, entertained by her reaction. You lean in, bumping your head against hers in a gentle tease.

The doors slam shut.

You flinch at the sudden sound, turning to see the two men from earlier at the entrance. Each stands in front of the doors, arms crossed with two large rifles in their hand as they quickly adorn ski masks. The man at the information counter now has a gun in their hands, pointing it up at the ceiling and firing a single shot.

The loud bang startles Didi, who instantly covers her ears, pushing her head against your shoulder with a small squeak. You protectively hold her close to you, ready to shield her body with your own in case anything happens. 

“Everyone drop everything, get down on the ground, and lift your hands now!”

You slowly sink to the ground, eyes never leaving the guns in their hands. This situation is the opposite of ideal. Being held hostage isn’t exactly part of your five-year plan for graduation. The doors are guarded by the guards, dark silhouettes blocking the sunlight.

“Hey! I said to drop everything and lift up your hands,” One of the robbers guarding the doors earlier points a gun straight at you with a glare. You look from the weapon to the sub in your hands, reluctant to let go. 

“I said, drop it!” 

You gingerly set it down with a defeated sigh. “You happy now?” You ask him with a scowl. He steps towards you, still aiming his gun at you as he picks up your sub and throws it to the side. It lands with a plop onto the dirty ground, now a ruined mess.

“Wha- My sub!” You complain with an offended gasp, now glaring at the man who just destroyed your dinner. You see the arch of his brow beneath his thin ski mask, exchanging a confused look with his accomplice.

“You do know this is loaded, right?” He questions with a wave of his gun.

“You just threw away a perfectly fine sub! It even had extra pickles!” You argue, still mourning the loss of your dinner. Setting down your sub you could deal with. But flinging it against the wall? That was absolutely uncalled for. “You’re a maniac,” You seethe, your jaw clenched as you shoot him the coldest glare you can muster.

You hear tiny sniffles and a loud hiccup from beside you, looking down to see Didi’s scrunched nose with snot dripping down it and tears streaming down her red cheeks. Her lips are pressed tightly together, but you know she’s about to start wailing.

“Hey, hey, Didi,” You call out to her gently, ignoring the robber that watches you intently. “Let’s play a game of patty cake, okay?” You offer, holding out your hands. She places her small ones in yours, and you curl your fingers to cover her own. 

“I’m scared,” She hiccups, her sniffles growing louder by the minute. You shush her with a reassuring smile, thinking of a way to soothe her. 

“Oi! You sure have a death wish, lil’ missy.” You hear the cock of a gun behind you, turning to see it being pointed straight at you. “I already said: hands up where I can see ‘em.” 

“Look, do you want to handle a wailing child that’s bound to attract attention? Or do you want me to calm her down so none of us get a headache?” 

After a moment of deliberation, he moves his gun down to his side. “I’m watching you,” He warns.

“Yeah, yeah, as if I’d forget.” You huff with a roll of your eyes, crossing your legs and sitting down with Didi in your lap. “Now, where were we?”

You continue playing patty cake with the trembling girl after coaxing her into removing her hands from her ears. The shortest robber, who seems to be the ringleader of the three, is preoccupied with getting the clerk to empty the enormous vault at the back, stuffing bundles of cash into the large duffel bags they had carried with them earlier.

It’s tense.

Everyone chooses to stay silent, their shaky hands and terrified eyes a pleasure to the thugs. You risk a quick glance around, wondering when the hell Spiderman would show up. Isn’t this in his job description? Was he even getting paid? 

Someone knocks on the door.

The two crooks guarding the doors turn instantly, pointing their guns at a familiar figure with their hands raised in surrender.

“Yo! I came here to negotiate, not to fight.”

They look to their ringleader for a response, the latter giving them a nod and gesturing to their guns warily. They nod at each other, hoisting their weapons closer to their chest and opening one of the doors. 

Before they can react, Spiderman drops to the floor, immediately kicking their guns out of their hands. They land on the floor with a clatter. “You should really think twice before opening the door for strangers,” He chides, nimbly avoiding a harsh blow from the two thugs surrounding him.

That’s a nice suit.

Your eyes automatically follow him as he swings, dodges, and takes out the robbers in mere minutes. He’s nimble, avoiding each blow and disarming the vicious crooks that threaten to fire. 

“One step closer, and she’s dead meat!” 

Didi’s body is grabbed from your arms, and you look up in horror as the robber that threatened you earlier holds his gun close to the small child. Tears are dribbling down her cheeks uncontrollably, choking on her stifled sniffles. 

“Woah, woah, woah,” The masked vigilante halts in his steps, hands raised up, “Threatening a kid? That’s not gonna look good on your record, man.”

“Then put your hands up, walk to the wall, and give up!” 

“Wait!” You scramble to your feet, freezing as soon as you do. The robber presses the gun barrel closer to Didi’s shoulder, an ice-cold grip of fear crawling down your spine at the sight. 

You can’t let her get hurt. You rack your brains, trying to figure out a good distraction for Spiderman to take action. “I-I’m pretty sure I’m gonna die, but I just have to say something.”

“Get down on the floor!” The robber shouts harshly, fed up with the kids that keep bothering his easy getaway. You slowly kneel back down, never breaking eye contact with Didi, whose cheeks turn redder by the second. You spot Spiderman’s finger slowly moving to press his web shooter, eyes darting between him and Didi. An idea takes form in your mind, but it’s risky.

You pause, swallowing nervously. “Didi… I’m the one that broke BunBun.”

She screams. 

The ear-splitting sound makes the robber wince, dropping her to cover his ears. Spiderman seizes the opportunity, using his web fluid to grab his gun and toss it away in the far corner of the bank. He immediately gets to work through Didi’s screaming, effortlessly capturing the last robber and throwing him aside in a cocoon fashioned out of his web fluid. 

You grab Didi, scuttling back into your corner of safety and trying to placate her. You gently rock her in your arms, letting her cry into your shirt. The collar is now soaked with her tears, and you’re beginning to regret confessing to the crime of having accidentally broken one of her favourite plates. You’d blamed it on the passing wind, and she bought it.

“Hey guys, y’all are safe now.” You look back up at Spiderman, who leans against the wall near you, scanning the crowd of relieved people who cheer for his bravery. He chuckles, casually shrugging as he tries to brush off the praise. He double-checks if anyone is hurt, his gaze lingering on you for a split second.

He gives you a brief nod and a friendly two-fingered salute, and you tiredly reciprocate the gesture with a still-crying Didi in your arms. His head moves back slightly in a wince (well, you’re pretty sure it’s a wince. You can’t really tell with his mask and everything.), and for a moment, you feel as though he’s sympathizing with you. 

He takes his leave through the glass doors, Spiderman-style, with his web-slinging skills and whatnot. You’re left with the aftermath of the police finally showing up, the crying child deterring them from asking you any further questions besides a short testimony.

“Didi, it’s over now. We’re safe.” You try to soothe her by gently patting her head and hugging her tightly briefly. You’re sure your shirt is soaked by now. It baffles you how a child has so much water in their system that they still sob even after half an hour.

It took an apology, three Lego sets, and a future promise for another at Christmas to get her to stop crying.

— — — — — 

The bed creaks noisily when you collapse on it with an exhausted groan, the sound a subtle sign of the old bed frame threatening to break any day now. The glow-in-the-dark stars glued onto your ceiling shines softly, the chilly breeze of Brooklyn gusting through your open window. You’d dropped off Didi on your way home, reassuring Mr. Perez that she was unharmed.

You shiver, getting up to close the window before hanging your beanie on the clothing hooks behind your door. You turn on the switch to the lamp on your desk, the warm yellow light coating your room with a cozy atmosphere.

Your stomach growls, a reminder of your delicious dinner having been a victim in the whole hostage situation from earlier. You sigh. Whatever. You’d grab a bigger breakfast tomorrow instead. For now, though, a simple protein bar from your snack drawer would have to do. 

You unwrap it and bite down, munching hungrily while grabbing your sketchbook from your bag and laying it flat on your desk. You flip the pages, eyeing the empty pages with distaste. Page after page of drawings that didn’t meet your standards make your heart sink. 

You finally land on an empty page and grab a pencil with your free hand. You tap the end onto the blank paper impatiently, trying to think of more inspiration for your next work. You’d been in a slump lately, and while commissions did give you some extra pocket money to go cafe hopping, it didn’t help much with your lack of artistic creativity.

Your hands itch to sketch out an idea. Anything would do. The only problem is that your brain can’t provide even a smidgen of inspiration. You huff, leaning back in your chair.

You sit up straight and scooch closer to the paper, hoping that maybe that’d trigger some form of idea.

Nope. Nothing. Nothing hits you. 

Maybe it’s the happenings of today as well, what with a gun being pointed at you and helping your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman take down those thugs. You grin, recalling how Didi’s scream had impacted the poor goon, lips tugging down slightly at the reminder of your now empty wallet.

You’d have to find another commission soon. 

Maybe Spiderman would want one?

You begin to doodle absentmindedly, the scratching of lead against paper a soothing sound that practically lulls you into a trance. You recall the red spray paint of a jagged spider against the black suit, the design of it so simplistic and yet representing his personality so well. 

You remember his quick nod to you and silly salute, a chuckle slipping past your lips. How did he look like again? His elbow was bent, and two fingers were placed on his forehead as he leaned against the wall. He’s relatively lean, you recall, and probably taller than you too. It’s difficult to gauge since you were in a rather sticky situation that called for hunched shoulders and hesitant movements.

Your hand moves as if it’s got a mind of its own, recalling the webbed pattern on his suit. You draw and draw, adding shading after a basic outline is done. Your mind is foggy, no other thoughts remain except to transfer your memory onto paper. 

Wow.

You stare down at what you’ve just drawn, taking in the overall sketch with a shaky exhale. It’s the best you’ve done in a long while, with all the details contributing to the final product. 

It’s exactly as you remember, having drawn Spiderman giving you that silly salute while leaning against the tiled walls. You’d even shaded his suit perfectly.

You’re breathless. Is this really your work? From your own two hands, no less? It’s probably a one-off thing, but boy, does it feel good. Maybe thinking about Spiderman is the main reason why.

You giggle at the entertaining thought, shaking your head. 

It’s probably just the adrenaline.

[elsfavor1te]

can you write hcs of ellie being a simp gf 🫶🏻

SO INLOVE

warnings: i don’t really know what to put here tbh.. cutesy fluff stuff. 18+ smut included. oral (r receiving). thigh riding (also r receiving).

this was super fun to write man. i loved it 10/10. 💕💕 thank you for the ask. this is technically the first smut i’ve ever written, if you’d even count this as smut. be kind. 🥲

—————

simpgf!ellie who always has to have her hands on you.

you could be doing something as simple as reading a book and she’s there, head on your stomach , hand trailing up under your shirt.

she loves to hold your hand too. just when you’re walking through jackson or when she’s between your thighs.

she has you spread open for her, one hand holding your thigh down. her tongue swirling around your clit occasionally sucking. she uses her free hand to hold yours when you’re about to cum, talking you through it.

“that’s it. good fuckin’ girl.”

simpgf!ellie who loves kissing you.

normally ellie isn’t one for pda but with you she doesn’t care. kissing you where ever and infront of whoever.

she doesn’t neglect kissing you when she’s upset either, sure she might grip your neck a little harder than necessary when she’s dragging your face to hers to place the kiss on your lips. never hard enough to hurt you though.

she doesn’t care if you’re wearing lipgloss either. you’d try and stop her reminding her how she doesn’t like the sticky feeling of it,

“baby, lipgloss. it’s gonna be on your lips.”

“i don’t care. kiss me.” she’d pout cutely until you finally did. standing patiently as you took your thumb and wiped the thin layer of gloss off of her lips.

sometimes when you’d wear the pretty colored lipstick you found on patrol and kissed her cheek, neck, forehead she wouldn’t let you wipe off the mark it left. telling you it’s your special way of claiming her, (even though everyone already knows she’s yours).

simpgf!ellie who loves waking up with you.

loving the messy bed head look you wake up with, your hair sticking up in all directions and mouth dry.

sometimes you would wake up to her trailing her fingers through your hair, separating tangles gently when she came across them.

other times when you’d wake before her she would have you locked in her arms. your legs tangled together and you trapped in her arms.

at first you feel safe, admiring her pretty face while she holds you. after awhile you’d try to wiggle out, whispering her name.

“els, i gotta pee…”

“shhh, m’sleeping”

eventually you’d wiggle enough and whine enough that she would let you go, urging you to go fast and come back.

on special mornings after you would both wake up you wouldn’t even make it out of the bed before your lips are crashing urgently. her thigh pushing up against your clothed center as you grind down, letting little moans slip into her mouth.

simpgf!ellie who helps you when you can’t sleep.

she would make you snacks if you said that’s what you needed to sleep.

she’d rub your back for hours if it got you to sleep easier, whispering reassurances as her hand drew little shapes on your back.

“i’ve got you…”

at first she was against it but once she saw how fast humming little songs would get you to sleep it’d be her go-to. humming to you everywhere. when you couldn’t sleep, when you were crying, when you just needed ellie to hold you.

simpgf!ellie who talks about you to everyone.

“dina,” she would try to keep a straight face but ultimately end up with the biggest grin on her face. “she found me a brand new case of colored pencils AND a new sketchbook for my birthday. we’re in an apocalypse man. how does she do it?”

dina would smile, happy ellie found her person. even happier that it was her bestfriend she found it in.

sometimes when she couldn’t contain herself she would even brag to jesse. “she did my hair like this for me when we woke up,” she gestures at the 2 braids leading into a little ponytail at the middle of her head, otherwise it’s her normal half up half down hairstyle. “bet dina doesn’t do your hair in the mornings.”

“what? of course she doesn’t, i don’t have enough hair for that- you’re such a fucking simp.”

“yup.” she grins cheekily. “so inlove with her.”

[morganski-19]

The One with the Cafeteria

Fourteen Years Ago

Eddie sits at an empty cafeteria table. Pulling out his crumpled lunch bag, only a few snacks and half a squished sandwich inside. He takes out the pretzels, popping a few in his mouth while he draws something in his sketch book. Trying to decide what the best way to draw the creature he’s thinking of.

A group of football players pass his table. Bursting out in laugher after a jumbled whisper. Eddie tenses his shoulders, having a feeling it’s about him. With his hair that’s a mess that falls right below his ears, the way he dresses outside of the town’s boxes. He’s not exactly fit to be the popular kid.

Still, he could go without the passing remarks. He already was held back one year, he didn’t need more scrutiny.

A tray is placed gently across from him. He doesn’t think anything of it. Better to ignore the torment before it happens. But when he takes the chance to see who’s in front of him, it’s anything but the people who like to make fun of him.

This time it’s the girl that sits in front of him in math class. Nancy Wheeler.

“Hi,” she says with a soft smile. “You’re Eddie, right?”

Eddie cautiously nods. “Yeah.”

A person like Nancy Wheeler still never sits with Eddie Munson. He wonders why she’s really here.

“All my friends are in a different lunch period, and you had an empty table, so I thought I could join you.” She looks nervous, fidgeting with the sides of her lunch tray. “Would that be ok?”

Eddie shrugs. “As long as you’re good at avoiding random paper balls, then yes.”

Nancy furrows her brows. “Paper balls?”

Almost like she summoned them, a wadded-up piece of paper hits the back of Eddie’s head. He goes back to eating like nothing happened.

“They actually throw shit at you? What do they think this is? A fucking movie? Think of something original for once.”

Eddie snorts. “I don’t think their brains are big enough for original.”

Nancy laughs. “You’re funny.”

“And you’re committing social suicide just by talking to me. So, you’re either extremely brave or extremely stupid.”

She tilts her head to the side. “I could be a little bit of both.”

“Nancy Wheeler, full of surprises.”

“Why do they throw stuff at you anyway?” She asks after a short silence. “It seems so random, I’ve never seen them do that before.”

Eddie takes a deep breath. “Not everyone here is that accepting of the gay kid whose dad’s locked up and got held back a year. People start rumors, now the town hates me.”

Nancy makes a face, Eddie bracing himself to get hit with another piece of paper. Or an insult.

“Well, I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t know enough about me to make that decision.”

“And you don’t know enough about me to assume that about me. I don’t hate you because you’re gay, or your dad’s in jail, or that you’re repeating your sophomore year. I don’t know enough about you to hate or like you, but I’d like to.”

Eddie puts down his pencil, crossing his arms. “Like to what? Hate me or like me? Gotta pick one, Wheeler.”

He’s frustrating her, finding joy in it. A different joy than the insults he slings back at the homophobes that ends up with blood running out his nose. A joy that will end up making both of them laugh like nothing else matters. The joy of a friend.

Eddie could really use one of those.

Nancy rolls her eyes. “I guess we’ll have to see about that, won’t we.”

“I guess we will.” Eddie shuts his sketchbook, sliding it back into his bag. “So, what really happened to the people you eat lunch with?”

“Ditched me for their boyfriends, or changed over the summer. I always heard starting high school would change things, just didn’t know it would happen so fast.”

“Oh fuck that, you don’t deserve people who treat you like that.”

“No, no I don’t.”

They spend the rest of lunch talking, laughing. Each day finding each other at the empty lunch table. Talking through the halls if their heading the right way. Pairing up for the math project. Even though Nancy is ten times smarter than Eddie is about this, but she still picks him anyway.

Slowly, they start picking each other more. Spending time outside of school as well. Getting sick of the cafeteria and finding a quiet spot in the library. Becoming the friends both of them deserved.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low,

@thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady,

@apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic,

@fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging,

@potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @gregre369

@my2amgaythoughts, @ellietheasexylibrarian, @emmabubbles

[apomaro-mellow]

allo friend! i have an writing thought for you: steddie au -> artist!steve who draws random strangers that inspire him for tiktok or something similar and draws musician!eddie, not knowing who he is, just drawing him and adding him to the long list of people he’s drawn.

The video started as it normally did, with a close up of Steve's face as he exclaimed, "Drawing random strangers because everyone is beautiful and deserves to be immortalized!" And then cut to a view of his sketchbook in his lap as the video sped up to show him drawing a person.

He never showed the real life person, only their image captured through his hands. Of course, thanks to the virality of some of them, on occasion, people would find out that they'd been drawn and would stitch their reactions to it.

Steve held up the finished drawing of a man sitting on a park bench with a rottweiler, leashed and sitting at his side. The man was smiling down while his dog had his head in his lap, giving him the biggest eyes as he got scratches behind his ear.

"I love drawing dogs, they're just the sweetest. And some breeds like rotties get a bad rep. Anyway, join me next time for more random strangers!"

tacklepizza: "random stranger" draws Eddie Goddam Munson

9epper8utterfly: is he playin or nah? i cant tell with this guy

idiot-cinnamon: imagine people watching and Beyonce walks by like

Steve looked at the comments on his latest video and was definitely confused. He'd never heard of Eddie Munson. It was times like this, he really felt his age on the app. He considered asking who it was or just googling it to save himself the embarrassment, but he didn't even have to do that. Before long, Dustin sent him a tiktok. And the first thing he saw was the man he had drawn.

Oh god, he was reacting to it.

There was something slightly embarrassing about hearing his own voice in someone else's video.

"I got tagged, I can't tell you how many times in this damn thing, so it better be good. I appreciate and support the arts, so let's see what this guy's got. Just a paper and a pencil, you know there's beauty in simplicity. Oh there's a little doggy. You know Cocoa and I went out earlier and she-wait, was someone else walking my dog? Wait?" He leaned in until the video only showed his eyes and the top of his head as he looked as close as he could.

"Wait, shit", he started to laugh. "Holy shit that's me! Me and my baby, oh doesn't she look precious", he cooed.

Steve felt his heart flutter. It was always good when people complimented his art but...coming from this man...this beautiful man...

"That looks fucking amazing dude, and to do it on the fly? And I know I didn't stand still. Okay, I needa get in touch with this dude. It might be for some album art or maybe me and Cocoa will finally get that family portrait, but I gotta get some of his art. Does he do commissions?"

Steve did in fact do commissions. And it took less than a day for him to get a DM from one Eddie Munson, inquiring about his services.

[voylitscope]

CA: TWS 10th Aniversary Ficlets (Day 10)

Daily ficlets for the CA: TWS 10th Anniversary Event @catws-anniversary. With Huge thanks to @sparkagrace and @cable-knit-sweater for running this wonderful event! 💞

Previous days' ficlets now Ao3 by ship/genre! Stucky | Gen | EvanStan |

Also readable on Tumblr! Links under today's ficlet.

Ten | April 4th | Theme: To the end of the line | Prompt: 1940s, reunion | Words: 1,000 | Canon Divergent | G | No warnings | Steve/Bucky, Bucky Barnes Recovering, romance, first kiss (since the '40s)

Bucky has a lot of strange dreams. Nightmares, images that might be memories mixed with ones he’s sure couldn’t have ever been real., and things don’t make sense at all. Sorting it out feels damn near impossible.

Even with the slightly better grip on his own memories that he’s regained these days, and even with Steve’s help, it’s still hard to work through.

Most of the time, he doesn’t bother trying. Dreams are honestly the least of his worries. So he tends to just shake them off, no matter what.

But lately, he’s been having this recurring dream. It’s been happening multiple times a week, and it’s starting to really get to him. And not because it’s a nightmare or a disturbing dream of any sort.

It’s not. It’s actually —

It’s about Steve. It’s about him and Steve, and what he now knows to be their old apartment in Brooklyn and —

In the dream, Steve is sitting on the couch. That’s how it always starts. Steve’s sitting on the couch, and Bucky sees himself walking across a wooden floor and then leaning over Steve's shoulders, looking at the sketch pad on his lap. And, in the dream, they both look how they did back when they’d really lived in that apartment. But in his sketchbook, Steve has drawn Bucky looking how he does now, in the present — metal arm clearly visible in the image.

Then, in the dream, Bucky grins at Steve, as if this image is an expected thing to see, and he always says,

“How bout that you got my good side for once,” and that makes Steve laugh and set down his pencil so he can puts a hand around one of Bucky’s arms.

“Didn’t know you had one,” Steve says, tugging Bucky closer to him. He’s always still laughing,. They’re both always laughing.

That’s when Bucky watches himself bend lower and put a hand hands on Steve’s neck.

“It’s looking real good, Stevie,” Bucky says, every time, as Steve’s head turns toward his. “I like this one.”

“Glad to hear it.” Steve’s grin is so close to Bucky’s own mouth, and he’s still tugging on Bucky’s arm. “Guess it’s accurate.”

“Oh, such flattery,” Bucky says, somehow even closer to Steve’s mouth than before.

And then. Every time.

They kiss.

And that’s when Bucky wakes up.

It’s really not a bad dream.

Honestly, Bucky really wouldn’t mind if he kept having it. He well, he thinks a lot about kissing Steve when he’s awake. That’s a thing, too, lately. He doesn’t know what to do about that. He can’t quite figure out if the wanting is remembering something he’s always wanted, or if it’s a new thing. Either way, it makes the dream pretty enjoyable, if confusing.

But he’s had it eight times in two and half weeks, and he thinks there’s gotta be something to that. A message, or something.

When he wakes up from a nap and the 9th version of it — on a couch with Steve already in the room, it feels incredibly hard to shake off. It feels —

“You okay?” Steve calls. He’s got a sketchbook in his hands.

“Yeah.” Bucky sits up on the couch and watches Steve’s hands as he draws. “How long was I out?”

“Only about an hour,” Steve says, sending him a smile. “Didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No.” Bucky shakes his head.

The dream is still floating in his mind, and with Steve right here, it’s —

“You sure you’re alright?” Steve sounds more concerned this time. He puts his sketchbook down.

“Just a dream.” Bucky waves a hand. “Told you how they are.”

“Sure,” Steve says, not seeming any less worried. “You can tell me about it if you want.”

Bucky shakes his head, but then he notices what Steve’s been drawing. The sketch Steve was working on is him, looking how he does now, in the present — metal arm clearly visible in the image. It’s not exactly the same as the one Bucky’d seen in his dream, but it’s close.

Bucky stares at it, quiet for long enough that Steve reaches out and puts a hand on his arm.

And suddenly the dream starts feeling very real, and Bucky wonders if —

If it could be a memory.

“You drew that in my dream,” Bucky says, pointing to the picture. “Close to it, anyway.”

“What?” Steve frowns.

“I keep having this dream,” Bucky says, pushing the words out before he changes his mind about saying them. “About you and me in our old apartment, and you’re drawing, but you draw me now, not me like I was then, like I am in the dream.”

“Oh,” Steve says, slowly. He nods, and he gets up to sit next to Bucky on the couch.

“And we kiss,” Bucky says, eyes locked on Steve’s face when he does. “In the dream. We joke around about you drawing me, and then we kiss like — like people who do it all the time.”

Steve’s breathing and pulse change.

“We — we did,” Steve says, flushed, but meeting Bucky’s eyes. “Might be a memory. Memories.”

“I was wondering,” Bucky says, nodding. “Keep having it so often, and then this time you were here, and I thought —“

“Right,” Steve says.

“I hoped that was right,” Bucky offers truthfully. “It’s a good dream.”

“Yeah? You did?” Steve brightens noticeably. He outright beams at Bucky.

“I did,” Bucky says, pleased when Steve sets a hand on his arm again.

Bucky doesn’t really remember a lot about how to do this, he’s been watching himself put a hand on Steve’s neck before kissing him for weeks. It seems like a good move. So he repeats it now. Bucky puts a hand around Steve’s neck, and he lets Steve tug him in a little closer with that hand on his arm —

And then they’re kissing.

But this time, Bucky doesn’t wake up as soon as it starts.

He gets to keep kissing Steve.

🎆Nine | April 3rd | Theme: Cap Quartet | Prompt: Breakfast/Washington D.C. | Words: 500 | Canon divergent | G | No warnings | Steve/Bucky, implied Sam/Natasha, Steve and Natasha friendship, low-stakes fluff

🎆Eight | April 2nd | Theme: Bucky Barnes | Prompt: Ghost story | Words: 1,000 | Canon Divergence | Gen | No Warnings | Steve/Bucky, Post-TWS, dancing, Bucky Barnes recovering

🎆Seven | April 1st | Theme: HYDRA | Prompt: Project Insight | Words: 300 | Canon compliant | Not rated | No warnings | Bucky POV, implied Steve/Bucky (in a similar way to, you know, the literal plot of CA: TWS.)

🎆Six | March 31st | Theme: Sam Wilson | Prompt: Partners/Missing Scenes | Words: 350 | Canon compliant | Not Rated | No Warnings | Gen, Sam and Steve friendship, a tiny teaspoon of Sam and Riley emotions that you can interpret however your heart desires.

🎆Five | March 30th | Theme: TWS Cast | Prompt: Stunts | Words: 350 | Mature | No Warnings | RPF, Chris Evan/Sebastian Stan, very light/implied sexual content (but throwing this one under a cut just in case), sexual thoughts/tension, intentionally unspecified POV

🎆Four | March 29th | Theme: Natasha Romanoff | Prompt: Trust Issues | Words: 350 | Canon compliant| Not Rated | No Warnings | Gen, Natasha and Steve friendship

🎆Three | March 28th | Theme: SHIELD | Prompt: Surprise Visitor | Words: 300 | Canon compliant | Not Rated | No Warnings | But: very brief Steve/OC (sort of), and, I guess, privacy invasion via audio recording? I don’t know how to tag that. It’s canon that Steve’s DC apartment was bugged. So?

🎆Two | March 27th | Theme: Steve Rogers | Prompt: Guilt | Words: 300 | Canon compliant | Not Rated | No Warnings

🎆 One | March 26th | Theme: On your left | Prompt: The Smithsonian | Words: 250 | Canon compliant | No warnings | Not Rated |

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #194

I did A WHOLE LOT OF STUFF today. And I wish I could tell you all about it all at the same time simultaneously, but I don't live in a space where that's possible, so I guess I'll have to settle for starting at the beginning.

Actually, no. I'm going to start at the end. And then I'm going to move to the beginning! Here's a doodle I made today!

Please go easy on me; it's been a number of years since last I doodled with multiple media (or at all, really, with any kind of seriousness), and Sharpie isn't exactly the most forgiving medium...

Anyway! Back to the beginning! I cooked a food!!! This is broccoli, pan-fried in butter, with garlic powder, parmesan cheese, and the leftover goat cheese from that time when I made mashed taters when R visited my house!

...And here are a couple of the steak I cooked. Br was visiting, and she said she always wanted to try a tomahawk steak, so I got one and tried to figure out how to cook it!

This was super simple, actually. All you gotta do is stick it on some parchment paper on a cookie sheet, and stick it in the oven at 225 degrees F (or like 107 degrees C) for 30 minutes, take it out, flip it, and then stick it back in for another 30 minutes. Once that's done, you season it however you like on both sides (in this case, my classic mix of salt, pepper, paprika, and garlic powder), and then sear it on a griddle. Sometime while I was cooking, J went out to play laser tag. M wasn't hungry.

I also made bok choy, pan-fried in a little butter and chopped garlic:

You gotta be careful with bok choy; if you cook it for too long, it becomes terribly, horribly bitter.

But! I didn't cook it for too long! And so this is the plate of awesome deliciousness that resulted from all of this:

It all turned out really excellently. Br went back for a second helping of everything! I wish I could have given you a plate of this.

Br boiled water for tea for us, too. I got a new kind of vanilla rose tea that I think might be suitable to include along with your necklace. I got two tins so that I could test one and ensure that it is the same as the one that I am familiar with. It's the same brand, and they say it's the same flavor, it's just that this one comes in a nice tin instead of in a paper box.

The flavors are a little bit different. At first, I was displeased because I didn't expect that. But on further evaluation, I decided that I think I like the new one a little better. But I have to test them side-by-side to know for sure which one, if either, is superior.

Once Br and I were done eating, she suggested that we play a game in which we take turns doodling on a sketchbook page. Br is an amazing artist, and I haven't doodled with any kind of seriousness in a while, so when I was presented with the blank page, I felt pretty daunted. And especially when she reassured me that I could doodle whatever I like, my mind flooded with so many options that I got overwhelmed and didn't know what to pick.

So after a while, I thought, "Well I'm good at doodling eyeballs." Because Br had noted that my facial expression was very interesting as I tried contemplating things during my feelings of overwhelm. J keeps telling me that my eyes get like saucers sometimes, so I imagined that that's what I was doing (my face does things without my knowledge or consent, I guess...). So I decided to draw an eyeball, and before I knew it... well...

Whoops. Hahaha...

This one is done in a combination of mechanical pencil and Sharpie marker; I have a collection of different Sharpie colors because... I don't know why. They're pretty, I guess. I pulled out all the blues and also my metallic silver for it.

Here's a bigger picture of the doodle:

I doodled the eye first. And then I doodled the feather. Br doodled the abstract flowery squiggle in between; isn't it cool???

Here's a close-up of the feather. It's not the best-est, probably. I still kinda like it though:

Br got tired though, so we both decided to take a short nap. I had several very interesting dreams, and when I woke, I felt compelled to draw what I saw. But I am not going to show those images.

Instead, I will show you a couple pictures of the sky I took right before I took a nap with Br:

I'll also show you what I did with the eye doodle after I discovered that Br had brought her Nupastels:

Oh hey! We're back at the beginning of the letter! Hahahaha...

Hey, Sephiroth? Have you ever tried to doodle? If you have, what sorts of things do you like to draw? I tend to like doodling organic things, but some people like to doodle buildings, and some like to do abstract shapes, and others like to do geometric things, or landscapes, or any number of things. So... what would you draw? What sorts of things do you imagine?

Once J got back, he, Br, and I watched the Steven Universe movie, because Br had just gotten through the original animated series, and so the movie is up next. J and I have already seen it. I hope someday you'll get to see it; I think you'd find Spinel extremely relatable for a variety of reasons.

...Please try to get an ending like hers, okay?

You can find people who will treat you better. Not everyone is like the people who raised you. You can find some of those people who will treat you better, people who want you around, right here at my house. Pop by for a visit if you're ever in the neighborhood, okay? We can make you tasty snacks.

...I guess I'll end this one here. It's getting pretty late, and I wanna go to bed.

I love you. Please stay safe out there, okay? Because I'm gonna write again tomorrow, and you wouldn't wanna miss out on all my weird, delightful shenanigans, right? All the weird, delightful shenanigans that comes with living my version of an ordinary life. All the weird, delightful shenanigans that you can have, too, if you make choices that bring you there.

Your friend, Lumine

[a-strangers-thoughtss]

Summer loving had me a blast

Summer loving happened so fast

Will had been sitting in the sand, knees up to use as a makeshift table for him to set his sketchbook on. He used to do that a lot back in Lenora. He had never been big on friends, more adept to people watching.

He was similar to Jonathan that way, accept he drew people and Jonathan took pictures.

It was the summer after sophomore year, and two years or so after El had moved across the state to be with their dad for Highschool. She had always had a stronger connection to him, and Will to Joyce.

When Jonathan had left for collage he couldn’t bare to leave her alone, no matter how much it tore him up to be away from his twin.

The day had been so picture perfect, and so many gorgeous people had been roaming around, splashing in the water, sun bathing. It was the best place to find people joyful, emotions out on display for him to capture in pencil.

Something had caught his eye, a black leather jacket.

A boy looking around his age occupied it, walking slowly through the sand in sneakers, jeans, a white shirt and that leather jacket. Why he was wearing any of those things at the beach, Will did not understand. He must be insane, mentally ill.

But it would have been a completely insane lie to say that Will wasn’t drawn to him.

He was handsome, ridiculously so. He was tall and gangly, but not overly so. His face looked straight out of a marble statue, sharp, defined features. Shoulder length black hair messily spilled over his face, going in all different directions.

He was pretty too, and god, life was unfair.

Will glanced up, in the way he had learned after the time someone had caught him and angrily broke his nose, hidden and deliberate. He studied the boys face, slowly etching what he saw onto the page.

Will had just got done with a very rough sketch of his face when he looked up again.

Shit.

The boy was looking at him.

Their eyes met, and Will froze.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

This guy was most definitely not someone he wanted to mess with. Greasers like him usually had a gang of buddies just waiting for the perfect opportunity to pick on someone they deemed “different” and Will was most definitely different. He was queer and every single person who looked at him seemed to clue in pretty fast.

But now he was walking towards Will and he was frozen and unable to move, rooted to his spot on the sand.

“What you doin’?” His voice had the harshness of a greaser, but his eyes were curious.

“Uh, people watching I guess.” Wills suppressed himself a little when his voice didn’t shake. What else was he supposed to say?

“Mind if I join then?” He asked, “Bored as shit.”

All Will could do was nod a little. He hurriedly turned to the next page before the other boy plopped down next to him.

“I’m Mike by the way.”

“Will.”

They sat in silence for a long while, Will finishing up the scetch of Mike and deciding to sketch out the figure of a house on the horizon, highlighted by the setting sun. As he was erasing a line to draw a new one, Mike spoke. It was startling, Will had forgotten he was even there for a bit.

“Hate beaches. Always so sandy and overly hot.” Will snorted at that.

“Well maybe you’d like them more if you took the jacket off for five minutes. You gotta be roasting right now.” That pulled startled laughter out of Mike.

“Just missin’ my boys.”

“Got kids? Though you were close to my age, looks like I misjudged.”

“Nah, still pretty young, not quite balding.”

“Got a bit for that.” They fell into an easy banter, something Will hadn’t known he was missing. The conversation just flowed with Mike in a way that just felt so natural.

“So, what’s a pretty lady like you doin’ out here so late.” Mike asked, light and curious.

“Already told you, people watching.”

“That’s a nice picture you got there.” now Mike was pointing to the sketch of the house, outlined with bold scribbles on the page.

“Thanks, I usually just draw people.”

“Well If that’s not what you ‘usually draw’ I’d like to see what type of shit you can come up with when you’re really drawin’.” Mike said, sincerity laced through his voice. “Any of those I can have a look at?”

Will felt self conscious, but before he could really think about it, he was flipping the page back to his unfinished Mike sketch. His eyes widened and his face grew hot.

“Damn, shit, sorry. Just saw you and I had to draw you, you look so out of place.” Not the words he should have used, but he can’t take it back now.

He looked warily to Mike, whose eyes were wide.

“Damn that’s good.” Was all he said, turning to face Will. “I don’t got any money on me but If I did you bet I’d be giving you a few quarters for that.”

He was dumbfounded, but quickly moved, going to rip the page out.

“Here, have it for free, I don’t mind.” Mike looked down at it, pleased.

“Thanks man.”

There was a long pause, a moment they both just sat there, grinning awkwardly at each other.

It was broken by a loud female voice.

“Mike, it’s time to go!”

Grinning, he saluted Will, “That’s my cue to split. Gonna be here tomorrow morning, wanna hang?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Mike got up, stepping backwards as he called,

“Bye Will.” It sent sparks up his spine.

[sobeksewerrat]

HYPERANALYZING/ SCREAMING ABOUT EP.3 COZ IT IS MY FAVOURITE AND I AM REWATCHING IT LET'S GOOOO

Disclaimer: this post is literally just me talking about how much I kin Milly and technically a combined liveblog

Oh look it's one of Taylor's bullies from BWBL!!

Also, what the music freak is this shitty pop song playing in the back ground man I'm-

Why is the school nurse running around like that-

Gotta love how everyone just rushes over to see Milly fight, and that Jake knows exactly who they're talking about (even though they've been friends for like 2 weeks). Really shows how much of a negative-ish reputation Milly has (relatable man)

Fuck Miss Jones man she sucks she can't even break off a fight who hired this bitch.

I really like the fight scene, Luke's animation is kinda wonky but I really miss seeing Kurie's animation!! I really miss the old GL episodes, they were just so much more well-written, and the amount of editing done by Rosy in them is really underrated like they seriously look so good considering how limited GL was.

God, seeing Milly fight for something Zoey stole is really fucking relatable. Like, my bullies always steal my books, my sketchbooks, my pencil case..etc. and I always get in trouble when I try to wrestle them for it. Like, I get yelled at and keep getting told "You're a girl you shouldn't be fighting with anybody!" and all they get for pushing me over the edge is a slap on the wrist, schools are really unfair (and then adults wonder why we don't talk to them about shit).

Dear Rosy Jake is so pathetic he literally gets thrown away by just a punch I'm-

Fuck you Luke

Zoey calling Milly an animal is um, weird, to say the least.

Um, side note, I really forgot how weird Henriam were in the first few episodes- like you could see the basis of their characters as we know them now being established but it's still so weird seeing them like this (also Henry is almost Liam's height in GL which makes me want to die)

Imma just skip over the Miss Jones scene I practically said everything I have to say but before that Drew was too much of a dick in this episode in an unlikeable way like THANK GOD he's barely in this one and seeing Lia flirting with Jake feels very wrong for some reason. Still love her GL outfit though <33

Wow Hailey I am so glad to know you care more about the competition than Milly <444/sarcasm

FUCKING HYPOCRITE- (jk I love GL era Hailey <44)

Seeing the club pressuring Milly to talk speaks to me on a weirdly personal level. Everyone wants me to talk about my feelings, but have you ever considered that I don't want to talk about them? That I am still not comfortable enough to let you in? To let you see that I am vulnerable? To actually confront the fact that I am not okay? I know the music club and the ppl ik irl genuinely mean well, but sometimes people aren't willing to talk, and you should respect that. Sometimes, just being there to keep us company and not judge us is enough, yk?

Side note: can really relate to Milly's reflex of hitting people when they get too close, I literally have to stop myself from punching my own mother whenever she grabs my arm or something I fucking hate being touched and I like the nice detail of Zander smiling when he found out who punched Jake.

Honestly, fuck Zander man. I joked about Hailey not caring about Milly's feelings, about Zander straight up doesn't care.

He is a straight up reminder of my one of my bullies and all the adults in my life. Fuck you Zander.

"Does the band mean nothing to you?"

DO MILLY'S FEELINGS MEAN NOTHING TO YOU ZANDER?!?

[Cries in this is super relatable]

"Great...she's on a rampage again"

Um...so, the girl being on the verge of a breakdown and being understandably angry at her bullies and her friends being extremely inconsiderate is considered being on a rampage? Damn, Sean, why do people even like you man.

So...you WANT to have control over her?? Idk man I am really mad at zander rn

"We can deal with whatever's bothering you, together!"

"Milly, I'm worried about you."

I already elaborated on this point but I just want to talk about how much I love Hailey in the first 4 episodes she was literally an awesome queen what happened to her 😭

God I love Redemption so fucking much it is literally the best song and musical scene in TMF /gen

Love the foreshadowing to Lia's redemption in the scene where they're bullying Milly btw, Rosy is awesome when it comes to subtlety (that is how you spell it right-?)

"🎵But you keep trying to get too close🎵"

Literally on the verge of tears this song (and whole episode tbh) hits way too close to home/gen (i feel like I have to keep clarifying how genuine I bcuz I don't think people realize how emotional this gacha series can make me)

"🎵Saved myself by turning into stone🎵"

[In tears] I swear people really underestimate how fucked up someone's psyche can be when they're all cheery and hyper. Media has made us believe that people who bottle up emotions are all cold and depressed but really the most cheerful people you knew tend to be the most depressed. The only other major examples from my fandoms that fit this category that I can think of are KEL from Omori and Kokichi form Dangan, but I feel like KEL fits this statement more that Ouma tbh

"🎵So save your judgement 'cause you just don't know🎵"

REAL. AND THE CAMERA PANNING TO ZANDER WAS JUST *chef's kiss* I SWEAR ROSY IS REALLY GOOD AT SHOWING EMOTION.

"🎵And they keep coming like moth to flame🎵"

People want a reaction. Adults keep telling you to just ignore the bullies and they'll go away, but they never will because they KNOW they're getting under your skin and they'll continue teasing you till you snap and they'll only stop when it's already too fucking late.

"🎵Redemption never came🎵"

This. This line is perfect and it is the perfect ending to the song. People are so quick to judge and tell you you need to change but they never stop to get to know the real you, they never stop to actually help you change, and you'll always be the villain in the end.

"Milly seems really important to these guys"

YA THINK?!?!

"I'm missing chunks of my hair because of her!"

Zoey please marry me 💖

"They must be talking about Milly..."

Yeah, no shit, Sherlock

"I can't believe she has a crush on that nerd!"

Me neither, Zoey, Milly is wayyyy above his league.

"You...blackmailed your friend for me?"

Also, being bullied for a crush is soo real. Like, I am aroace so I wasn't bullied for HAVING a crush, I was bullied for being a "pick me" because I just so happened to be close friends with a guy and they were all accusing us of dating (this is like a big deal here since dating is very frowned upon, especially for AFABs; so they KNEW they were gonna tank my reputation and ruin my life basically. I can't tell you the amount of teachers who would look at me weird when I talked to my guy friends)- anyways this barely has anything to do with Milly or tmf but this is my blog I do whatever

[EDIT: A WHOLE CHUNK OF THE RANT WAS DELETED?? I AM REWRITING IT NOW]

"Y'know, what? I think I might go see what Drew's up to, I've yet to tell him about how I saw you with your sugar daddy last weekend"

This was the moment I started hating Jake. I didn't like him before, but I started loathing him at that moment.

I have been cheated on before, and if my friends knew and didn't tell me I would have killed them.

"But drew wouldn't have believed him!" Well, he believed him in ep 10, didn't he? And Henriam would have been there to back him up anyways.

Another question I have regarding this is how on earth did he blackmail her?! Liek he didn't have a photo or anything.

AND WHY ISNT HE CONCERNED ABOUT ZOEY GOIGN OUT WITH AN ADULT!??!

"Aw, you two looked very cozy together"

His tone reminds me of my abuser and I don't like. It has nothing to do with the essay, but I wanted to point it out. It really got under my skin.

"Just...please don't tell Drew about what you saw"

Is ti just me or does she seem genuinely sad?? Like her conscience is tormenting her?? Idk man maybe I am just reading into this way too much but- [pulls out ancient tmf theories about Zoey being forced into this by sb and actually being in love with Drew]

"I can't believe those girls, snooping into people's diaries like that"

And you can believe Jake blackmailing Zoey?? I get you're still salty about Lia but cmon Hailey give the man some consequences

[INSERT DEAN SCENE HERE]

MR.BROOOOOOOOOOOM

GOD HER TONE IS JUST- LIKE, SHE'S UNCERTAIN ABOUT JAKE'S METHOD [PROBABLY] BUT SHE CANT BELIEVE SOMEBODY CARES ABOUT HER THAT MUCH OH MY- SOMEBODY GIVE HER A HUG PLEASE SHE NEEDS IT

I SWEAR IF I SEE SOMEBODY ELSE CALL HER CARDBOARD LIEK THE ANON DID I WILL KILL YHEM

"Um...well, when you put it like that-"

Jesus Christ this man doesn't even realize what he did.

That final interaction with Milly and Jake where they reflect on the whole thing is just- beautiful, awesome, fantastic. It's really sweet and I love seeing Milly finally being comfortable enough to talk about her feelings (even if she isn't being too specific or conveying all of her feelings)

Why does Elliot look like that.

Milly why do you like this guy.

Anyways, I love the sound effects Rosy used to add whenever people would blush, I miss it (iirc it isn't in any of the new ep)

GOD I MISSED HE INTRO/OUTRO SONG SO MUCH NOSTALGIA-

Anyways, I love this episode, this is peak TMF and it makes me angry to see how Milly was reduced to comic relief in the end.

I would write a proper conclusion but I am too fucking lazy

Bye freaks

[silent-raven13]

My pencil on my sketchbook

Normally Miles enjoy a time of peace, being by himself drinking some sort of beverage like soda, water or tea- Heck he loves a good ice coffee. Sometimes he would add a snack and candy to keep his stomach fill while he draws or creative something out of his hands.

His hands are his power, surely it has power because of his Spider-man abilities, but the true magic is his art! His creative mind brings his characters to life.

Miles had the television on and lights for background noise in his home. While fixing himself a snack for tonight; a delicious turkey, ham, cheddar cheese sandwich with lettuce, tomato, and onions. With condiments of mayo, mustard and ketchup. He had a side of one half pickler, and BBQ chips. All with a bag of gummy bears and a cold can of Dr. Pepper. "This looks good." He said to himself with a small smile.

The sight of his perfect snack for tonight had him pump! The eighteen year old had a busy month, there was no time for him to spend these nights alone with all the criminals on the street causing a ruckus, and preparing for his mid-terms. It's his last year, and he needs to have positive scores for his grade. He finally decided to go to school in Columbia University and double major, maybe focus on science class and a couple of art classes to get him started. He does want a good high paying salary, and he enjoys science, as for what type he still needs to think about it.

The best part him and Ganke agreed to try to apply for that school, and Princeton just for fun. If they both get accepted, they can rent an apartment together instead of dorming, and start being roommates. That's if they are able to get, try their first year and get a part time job for their plans for their second year.

Yes, Miles already has his plans set in motion. He knows it's a lot of work to do, but Spider-man always has work to do. Anyway back to him going into his room with his plate of snacks with his right hand and on his left arm holding a bag of gummy bears and his can of soda. He went to turn off the living room television, and dim the light in the kitchen.

Both of his parents are working a late shift, an all nighter and he was left to watch over his baby sister, Billie. He went to her room to find her sleeping in her crib, she suckling on her pacifier, she's already six month old, yet she's so small. His cute little Boo-Boo, Miles loves to watch her sleep sometimes she does this little cute kick like she's fighting someone. She does like to go with him when he's Spider-man, he knows he shouldn't. Still she always love being swing from building to building. He gently rubs her back seeing her kicking stopped. She slept soundly by her brother's gentle touch. Gently placing a warm blanket on her.

Miles let out another small smile with his big doe eyes gleaming at his baby sister. "She's so cute, my little Billie-boo!" He quietly left the room, slowly closing the door without making a sound. He went into his room feeling a bit cold. It's still cold in the city that never sleeps, he went to put on his fuzzy socks on, he wore thick blue plaided pajama pants, and a white t-shirt. He sighs feeling his arms cold, he put on his Uncle Aaron's oversize jacket.

He kept a lot of his uncle's things, all his vinyls, his record player, some of his clothes and old photos of him and his dad's childhood. Sometimes he could smell hints of his Uncle Aaron, a certain scent of old cologne, leather and sometimes a new fresh of Timberlands shoes. Miles let out a sigh about grieving over his uncle still.

Grief is weird... there's times he knows his uncle is gone, and he knows it. Sometimes he slip up, when he get a good grade or draw a cool drawing, he quickly wants to run to his uncle's apartment and show him. Or he'll say, "I gotta tell Uncle Aaron about this!" Then, the realization would hit him like a truck, it hurts to think about. Sometimes he cries about it, sometimes he stays quiet. It's just one of those things about grief.

He sat on his rolling chair swaying side to side as he gets ready with his Me-Time. Grabbing his laptop to play a song on low volume from his Spotify playlist, he had up photos of inspiration, and went on his smart phone to look up other artists on social media to try their style. He likes to challenge himself and see how far his ability can go.

"Hmm this one looks good." He saw an artist working with soft pastels, which reminded him of Steven Universe. He decided to look up a landscape or person to use as references. Of course, he's going to add the Morales' flare. He got up to go on his book shelves to look through his art books, "Where is it?" He found the art book of Steven Universe Art and Origins, and saw he wanted to try the pilot style.

Leaving the page wide open as he set it on the table, he got out his big Mix Media sketchbook. One thing he liked about Rebecca Sugar's work is her drawings of hands, and he wanted to make drawings of Black and brown hands with different poses. "Hmm, gouache or Copics?" He was in the mood to paint, so maybe he'll do quick loose sketches of hands with markers. He had his drawing table slanted in another angle for him to work on hands, he got his art supplies all in order.

He took some gummy bears to eat and got started in drawing hands. Sometimes his tongue is curled out while he focus on drawing fingers. Why are hands so damn hard? He always likes drawing bodies instead of details on feet or hands.

His smartphone buzzed causing his Gizmo to vibrate on his wrist. Looks like one of his friends from another world wants to chat with him. He checked his smartphone to see it's his boyfriend.

Moonflower: Sunflower! You busy today?

Miles placed the rim of his Smartphone on his chin thinking about his answer. Today was his time to draw and enjoy himself, but how should he say it? He didn't realize he kept his boyfriend on read.

Moonflower: Sunflower?

Miles: Sorry bae! Well, i'm sort of busy.

Moonflower: Wat do u mean? 🧐

Miles: My parents are working night shift and I'm watching Billie.

Moonflower: Oh? 😏 So your alone is what I'm reading?

Miles: Bae! I'm serious! My dad didn't like the last time you came by and slept on my bed! 😭

Miles should tell him the truth, but what if Hobie would take it the wrong way?

Moonflower: So? 😆 I'm comin' by, luv.

Miles: Bae, I'm serious. I'm babysitting Billie!

Moonflower: Oh yea? I don't see her on yer lap.

Miles looks up at his window to find Hobie giving a wave. Oh shit, he bites his bottom lip as he got up to open his window to let his boyfriend in. "Hey, bae. I didn't expect you to be here. Were-were you watching me?"

"Once I saw yer text about yer parents not around I got excited to see you." Hobie looks around the room seeing a plate of sandwich and chips and a can of soda. He heard music, saw the room smelling freshly nice and there was a drawing table of Miles' drawings. His dark eyes saw the laptop of a photo of a very chisle black man with only a tight nude boxer posing, "Oi? Who's this bloke?" Hobie got jealous seeing this photo of a muscular male with his arms flexing and his hands together in a weird position.

Miles quickly went over to his laptop being confused, "What?"

"He's bloody naked?"

Normally Hobie never cared about nudes, he believes in freedom in expression. However, ever since he got with Miles, the punker had been known to be the jealous type. His beautiful Sunflower is his, and any other bloke or lass flirts with him, he goes full on scary.

"Hobie, I'm learning how to draw his hands. Look, they are big and strong- very figurative-" Hobie snorted with, "I can see." His eyes on the male model's crotch, there's a huge bulge.

Miles pouted, "Bae!"

"What? I'm sorry, luv- is this why you say you were busy? You were," Hobie's hand mimicking jerking off, "by yer self."

Miles face felt so weird, so embarrassed, "HOBIE!" He shrieks.

"Sunflower, I don't mind if you like to whack your little friend as long as," He grins widely, "It's me."

"Oh god!" Miles know how perverted his boyfriend is when it comes to sex. Not that he doesn't like it, but sometimes he said things out of pocket. "You find out sexting is a thing and I got so many dick pics of you!"

Hobie grins from ear to ear, his arms around his Miles' waist pulling him close, "And you kept them all, eh?"

"You're lucky I had my password on, my mom sometimes checks." Miles gave a cute pout.

"Awe, luv." Hobie leans over to kiss his lips, "Mmm, you taste sweet."

"I was eating gummy bears." His boyfriend said with his arms around Hobie's neck.

His punker stares deep into his eyes, his hand slowly went to grope Miles' rear, "Aye, bae! No, not tonight."

"Awe, why not, luv?" Hobie leans over to kiss his Sunflower's cheek to his neck, "Mm, your sister must be sleeping? 's pass her bed time, init?"

Miles pouted, he wasn't in the mood for it. He wanted to work on his drawings and be in his own little world, "Bae, stop. I wanna... mm," When Hobie's tongue lick his neck almost nibbling to leave hickeys, "Mmmhh."

"Mmm?" Hobie purrs letting the ball piercing on his tongue gently massage into his Sunflower's neck. Sometimes he can be very persuasive, with his hands firmly groping his lover's rear again, "Yer sure?"

Miles places a hand over his punker's mouth, "Nuuuhhh, bae. I'm serious." He cutely stares at him, with those pouty lips.

"Alright, luv." Hobie pulls away to rub his nose feeling an itch. Then he sniff , "So? Why did you say you were busy, luv? It seems like you don't want me around."

Miles pouts hearing his boyfriend sounding a bit hurt. "Hobie, I love having you around, it's just... I'm drawing. I was so busy with Spider-man, school, us! I finally got a chance to draw some stuff I always wanted to."

"Luv, why didn't you say so? I'll be quiet as a mouse, and watch you work." Hobie went over to grab Miles' sandwich to take a bite, "Mmm, delicious, luv."

"Yeah, don't mind if you do, heh." Miles rubs his hand that was his sandwich. Whatever, it's fine, he can make another one. Hobie wants to vibe. So he went back to drawing, and pop a few gummy bears. Then he hears his boyfriend munching on his sandwich.

"Mm, luv. Dis got red onions, nice add." Hobie let the crumbs from the bred land on him and Miles' bed.

Miles turns to look at his bed, "Hobie, your making a mess."

"Don't worry, luv. I'll clean up, go ahead and keep drawing."

Now, don't it twisted. Miles love Hobie, he loves his chaotic nature, his charming wits, and pettiness, but today, he really wanted to be by himself. He had a whole plan to draw and listen to his music.

Now, with his boyfriend in the picture- Well, let's just say he needs attention every thirty minutes. Sometimes the punker has a habit making noises, look around the room, touching things being curious only to get his attention.

Right now, he's chewing loud on purpose. Miles can block it out since he was on the zone, he added the final touches on the hands with contrasting colors to give more of a pop. He happily set this finish work aside, then went to create a character in dynamic space, he always wanted to try the fish eye mirror.

Going on his laptop, he went on his Pinterest page checking his bookmarks and click the model reference section. He likes to be organized like that. Looking through the models, he decided to have an Afro Latino male model leaning against a wall. His body practically nude, his eyes were hazel and skin dark as Umber with hair in long dreads.

"Wow, what a pretty guy!" He mutters to himself forgot that Hobie was in the room with him.

Until, he heard heavy boots shuffling towards him. Hobie resting his chin on the nape of his shoulder, "That's a pretty bloke, alright." He stares at his Sunflower to say, "But I'm better, hmm?"

Miles let out a giggle, "Bae, you know you're my boo. Hmm..."

"What?"

"Just thinking... Maybe I should do this one. He's outfit is so cool." Miles click another model this time a light skin Latino with an oversize jacket and cargo pants. "It's futuristic."

"Mmm, the first one, luv."

"You think?"

"Yeah." Hobie kisses him on the cheek, "Mmm, take a break Sunflower?"

"Hobie," Miles giggles at his nuzzling, "I just started."

"But I'm lonely."

"Bae, please. Give me ten minutes, please?"

"Alright, and I will make sure your ten minutes are up." Hobie saw the way his boyfriend looking frustrated, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Miles forces a smile before going back to his ideas in his sketchbook, he's so quick with loose sketches on body and form. Hobie always admire that ability, he decided to look at the book shelves filled with mangas, comic books, figures, and art books.

"Hmm," Hobie grab a random book being obnoxiously loud with each page turning, he set his Gizmo for ten minutes, "Nine minutes." He playfully hums.

Miles inhale sharply with his lips pressing together, this kind of stuff he didn't like. It felt like he was being timed for a test, he quickly did a sloppy sketch before using his mix media paper to make his final works. "Hmm, the World of Hirohiko Araki."

*FLIP* Miles hears the pages being flip, he felt like his boyfriend is doing this on purpose. The Hobie's dark eyes glance up with a low mutter, "seven minutes, luv."

Nope, he doesn't like this. When he lazily did the basic guidelines of his cityscape, he hears his boyfriend digging through his bookshelves making so much sounds. Then, he softly hums a tune, "Oh luv, how about some good ole' music. I'm thinking Sex Pistol's playlist, hm?" He rudely went to Miles' laptop to change the song, and he decided to look through the web. "Opps, luv... I think I lost your pics."

"Hobie..." Miles frowns to check the image he was using as reference webpage closed, he went to his history to click back to the site. Then, Hobie plays the music a bit loud, "Bae, Billie it sleeping."

"Opp, sorry, luv. Let me lower it." He headbands to the music, "Now, this is some good stuff." His hands moving to the beat of the drum that he ended slapping his lap.

"Bae, how about you finish your sandwich?" Miles asked then arched his eyebrow seeing the sandwich on the plate, "Wait, where is it?" He saw the sandwich on the nightstand. "Bae, ew! No."

"Come on, luv. It's fine. I'll clean it up." Hobie caught Miles' by the waist seeing him heading to the nightstand, "Dance with me."

"Hobie!" Miles sighs being exhausted with this, he pulls away to look at the sandwich, mayo dripping out of his night stand, "Awe, now I have to clean this up. Hobie, this is gross. You don't know if there's dust on this... eck." He grabs his plate to put the half eaten sandwich on it.

Now, he gotta clean up his boyfriend's mess. Going to get his cleaning wipes from his lower draw for when paint gets spilled, now he use it for whatever. He cleans up the nightstand, Hobie only hugs him, "Luv, relax. I said I'll clean it up." He nuzzles against him.

"It's just..." He presses his lips together, "I rather do it now." He pulls away to go back to his seat to start drawing, then Hobie's watch beeps.

"Times up, Sunflower. Come and snuggle with me." Hobie lay on his boyfriend's bed.

"That don't count, bae. I was busy cleaning up your mess." He snorted at that, "Anyway, let me finish my work."

Hobie frowns, "My mess? I told you I would clean it."

"And did you? No, I have to. I had to stop working on my painting and clean up your mess. When you have the plate right here." Miles inhale sharply trying to calm himself down.

"Whoa. Whoa! No need to snap at me, Miles." Hobie sat up, "You could've left it alone. I know, how to clean up. Don't treat me like a sprog, luv."

"Well, sometimes you act like one." Miles mutters lowly going back to his painting.

"What?" Hobie didn't hear him but he knows it was an insult. "What did you say?"

"Nothing." Miles said.

The Punker didn't like this, his Sunflower is upset with him for no reason. Now, he's getting the silent treatment. Oh hell no! He went over to roughly turned the chair his Miles sitting on. This caused Miles' pen to draw across the paper making him gasp out loud.

The sketch is ruined with a huge inky line. "HOBIE! Look what you did!"

"You can always draw another one!"

Miles scowls at him, "No, this was a good sketch! I was in the zone!"

"You're blimey snapping at me! Talk to me, why are you this pissed off." Hobie asked, "This should be more important!"

"More important? Hobie, my work is important too! Ugh, it doesn't matter," He crosses his arms muttering the rest, "You don't care..."

Furrow lines forms on Hobie's eyebrows, his mouth in contempt. He looks hurt, "I don't care? I don't care!" He repeated almost shouting.

This made his boyfriend winced at his boyfriend's outburst. "Hobie, I-" Hobie snaps at him, "No, you stay quiet and I talk, Miles. You been snappy and act like I'm unwanted here. If I didn't care, I wouldn't visited you- Excuse me for bloody giving a damn after we haven't seen each other over three weeks!"

Miles stood quiet with huff. "Well? What you got to say about that, huh? I haven't seen you and thought since you were done with mid-terms, I can see you!" His voice in a stern voice.

Miles said nothing, being frustrated. "Giving me the silent treatment? For nothing? Wow. Just wow." Hobie scowls. "Look, I know when i deserve the silent treatment and this is bollocks!" His shouting was loud enough to wake up Billie.

Then the baby monitor rings with Billie's cries.

"I'm not giving you the silent treatment. I'm finding the right words, before it sounds all wrong! But fine, think like that." He crosses his arms being upset, "I'ma go check on Billie!" He huffs.

Miles cursed himself, he didn't want to get mad at his boyfriend or say rude shit. It's just- why now? When he wanted alone time? There was times when his Hobie went to concerts and miss their date night, so why is this so different?

The teenager went to check on his baby sister being wide awake in tears. "Awe, what's wrong bebé?" He cooed at her, then felt the room cold. "Ohh, it's cold in here." He swore he turned on the heater.

Billie's hands reaches out for her big brother, "WAHHHH!"

"I'm here." Miles quickly pick her up, "Ohh, you're cold, Boo-Boo!" He got the baby wrap to have her close to his warm chest. She snuggles against his warmth still sniffing, "Shh, I'm here." He went to the heater on the wall, he put the temperature high but nothing came out. "Oh shit." He panics with worried, his baby sister was freezing in her room because the heater is broken.

"Let's get you out of here, Boo-boo." He quickly got out of the room, he bites his bottom lips. Was he this selfish? He didn't noticed the heater wasn't on, he did noticed the room cold, but-but-

What if he didn't go to her room? What if she didn't cry? He only went to go to her because she cried, maybe she woke up because she heard him and Hobie arguing. If Hobie wasn't around, maybe- Oh god, he didn't want to think about that.

Tears dripped down his eyes, he ran to his boyfriend, "Hobie! Hobie!" His voice cracks filled with tears.

The punker's anger washed away when he heard panic in his Sunflower's voice. "Luv, what's wrong? Billie is alright?" He quickly went over to find his boyfriend running into his arms.

"The heater! It's-It's broke in her room- she's cold. Freezing! I'm scared. What if- What if-" He cries holding his baby sister, "I was supposed to be watching her! I didn't because-because I thought she would be fine!"

Hobie touches Billie, she cold but not freezing. "Luv, calm down. Calm down. You're frightening her." Billie started to cry again feeling her brother's panic. "Shh, calm down. She's fine. She just needs to be warm. Look lets lay on the bed and snuggle, wrap this quilt. She'll be warm soon."

"But-But- If you didn't come over, she would've froze to death and-and- I'm a horrible brother. I'm a horrible person. I'm a bad boyfriend! I suck," Miles cries out loud, "I'm so sorry, Hobie. I'm sorry. I was being selfish and-and-" Hobie hugs him, "Shh, luv. It's alright. You're not a terrible person. Get that outta yer head. Let's go to the bed."

Miles nodded still sniffing as he comforts his baby sister. Hobie wipes his tears then kiss him, "I love you, no matter what, okay?" Kissing his lips again.

"Mmhhmm," His Sunflower sniffles, "I love you, too." The two lay on the bed together, Billie snuggles against her brother quickly falling asleep. Miles stares down at his baby sister, she's so calm.

Hobie gently touch her forehead, "She's normal temp." The punker had the quilt on them after he removed his heavy boots.

Miles lay on his punker's shoulder, "I'm sorry I was such an ass, baby. I..." He bites his bottom lip.

"You know, you can talk to me about anything, luv." Hobie lift his chine up to stare in his eyes.

"I-" He gave a long exhale then softly said, "Today I was planning on just working on my artwork. I was so excited to finally work on my skills since I haven't been drawing for these few months, because of Spider-man, school... us."

Hobie nodded in silence. "I was happy being in my own little world, but you came and I was surprised. Because I wanted to be alone and draw. Maybe that's why I was such a jerk. I'm so sorry Hobie, I didn't mean to be one. I didn't even think about us not seeing each other for three weeks. I should've known you miss me. I should've known! I'm a horrib-" Hobie places his index finger on his Sunflower's pouty lips, "Shh, I get it. I should've been more considerate. You're not horrible, luv. I know, you had artist block for a while. I got too excited to be with you. It's exhausting being busy all the damn time. I like being alone from time to time." He still looks upset.

Miles moves closer, "Hobie, I love you with all my heart, your mi amor. I know I should be more vocal about this stuff but it's hard for me. I do love having you around. I shouldn't have it got to me. You didn't deserve it."

"Luv, this is not your fault. So what we argued? I know you're sorry and love me." He sighs, "I'm sorry for yelling at you. I just hate the silent treatment."

"Only when you don't deserve it?"

"Now, that's an argument for another time." Hobie let his long arms wraps his beloved's waist, his lips kissing Miles' neck. "Mm, gimme me another kiss then I'll forgive you."

Miles giggles, then kisses him. Hobie being a sneaky fellow, snuck in some tongue. "Mmm, Hobie." Miles gasps.

"I didn't say what type of kiss." He playfully stick his tongue out showing off his tongue piercing.

"Oh yeah," Miles went for another kiss this time he bites down his punker's bottom lip, then slowly pulls it then licks it. "How about that?"

Hobie turns pink, he lowly said in a lustful tone, "Your lucky your sister is here or else I would've pounce on you, luv."

"Hmm, awe, too bad, pookie." Miles' sweater fell off his shoulder, which left his shirt to show a bit of his shoulder, "I probably would've let you."

"Damn, you're a cheeky one, Sunflower." He huffs, "Maybe I shouldn't forgive you."

"Nuuuuh, mi amor! You already said it so too late." Miles rested his head on his boyfriend's chest.

"Cute, luv." Hobie gave him a sincere smile, "You know, I can hold on Billie bloo and you can finish painting."

"Nahh, I'm fine being here with you, my Hobie." Miles said, feeling his sister's warm body on his chest.

"Well, you can bring your little sketchbook and I'll hold her."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, hand her here." Hobie took Billie in his arms, "I like watching you draw, Sunflower."

"Okay!" Miles happily went to get a pencil and small sketchbook, "I've been practicing on hands." He flips through his sketches. The two would snuggle together, while Billie sleep in Hobie's arms. Hobie watches his Sunflower draw hands with expressive movements.

"Beautiful work, luv." Hobie kisses Miles' revealing shoulder, "Always a wonderful artist."

"OH yeah? Are you sure you're not buttering me up so I can sleep you with?" Miles teased.

"Luv, I would never, but tomorrow I'm free and you can come by." He wiggle his eyebrows.

Miles giggles, "Okay, I'll come by." He kisses his boyfriend's feeling those soft lips, "Mmm, my Hobie." He rest his head in his Hobie's chest again feeling happy.

"My Sunflower." Hobie hums with joy.

[alinktoana]

30 day no fanart challenge

this is the meat of the challenge: no fanart for 30 days (oh wow lol) 1. drawing categories/prompts instead of IP: it can be *anything*, it can be food, hobbies/professions, folklore/mythology. eg: actual taiko drums instead of taiko no tatsujin characters, cute dinosaurs instead of yoshi, cool hedgehogs instead sonic (lol) 2. IF i happen to wanna draw fanart, it's gotta be at least 100 years old (anything before 1924) eg: drawing fanart of John Tenniel's Alice (1865) and not disney Alice (1951), Albert Lynch's Joan of Arc (1903) and not Clone High Joan (2002). ps: im not sure about famous people yet, but i think ill go with the same idea that theyd have to have been dead before 1924.

here's some stuff ive drawn with that in mind, even though i hadnt stablished the challenge yet lol

why a no fanart challenge? well well well, if this isnt another post artist alley eulogy lol

here's some background feelings: after having helped promote 2 japanese food festivals and tabled on both its artist alley's, and knowing myself, and having grown up in the age of comic/book to film adaptations and the rebootprequelsequelmagaddon, it's really hard for me not to fanart, even though i trashtalk hollywood all the time for not taking risks and doing original stuff, lo and behold, i do the same. who am i to judge _anything_ when i watched all three star wars sequels in theaters and crushed on kylux for years, i was kneedeep into hannigram, i gave money to the barbenheimer industrial complex. how can i blame RGG for not letting kiryu go when i _cried legit tears of joy_ when pirate majima was announced? (granted, it's not as bad as the kiryu situation lol but this is about ma$cots, not me lol)

i love a lot of characters, a lot of stories, im always jumping from show to show, game to game, and coming back to them. but i wanna go beyond my love for other people's art and be in love with my own, now that im at a better skill and mental state. it might not resonate as much, specially at the japanese festivals im a part of, but i wanna try. and im gonna start slow, i *am* going to draw japanese food, japanese animals, and create my tiny little scenes and see what comes up. i love stickers with every fiber of my being lol so ill always have in mind that ill draw stuff that i would wanna stick on my own sketchbooks and journals. but i need to do this, at least for 30 days. who knows what will happen later, you know? a friend of mine once said that colored pencils are like sugar, and graphite pencils are like veggies. and i feel like fanart and not-fanart is the same. we love fanart, but it's not healthy to only draw fanart... also i love people who delve into IP OCs and stuff, it always seems a lot of fun. i could try that, but i think ill cut my fanart ties cold turkey and then i can figure something out, i dont know lol i could go back to d&d character sheets lol another side note: i went to film school bc i loved watching movies. i wanted to tell stories, but i had no idea how, and i didnt think i had the talent for drawing. i started studying japanese and bullet journaling, bc i had the urge to draw, and those were the mediums that were close enough to drawing i felt i could try. and then hannibal happened, i had a roommate who was learning to watercolor, and i was like, screw it, let me draw hannigram bc i love them lol ive had the opportunity to make some movies, but logistically and creatively, they never felt as good as having the spark of inspiration, sketching, linearting, painting, printing and selling these tiny ass stickers. there is some control freakness in that, sure lol but there's also a need to build confidence in my own abilities, which sadly i didnt have a space for in movie sets... anyway, ill always mourn not having spent my teens drawing, but im making my kid self proud now <3 also i might post my new stickers at some point, i still havent made a pinned post lol but someday, you know so yeah, if anyone's reading this, ty lol TLDR: if you draw, write, sculpt, whatever, anything, and you tend to do fanart, ask yourself if you're fanarting a bit too much, if there's a way of turning your love for these characters/worlds into something different and more you.

[astrxlfinale]

“Now, spin-offs and inspired animations can do surprisingly well when handled with tact and well—when I was designing this I had made sure to keep you in mind.” He’s awfully proud of the effort, flipping over the sketchbook to show off the sketch of the Clockie and friends inspired mech complete with notes.

“See, this takes from a genre on my planet called super sentai. The pilot for each piece of the Clockie mech would be specifically chosen because of how they embody the specific traits and beliefs of the characters themselves. Their hardships may mirror as well, but together they truly show what they can all overcome.”

When it comes to learning about the imaginary realm of creations, whether fashioned by the pen, discussed through word or simply express in each artist's language, it felt as if there was a ravine of treasures awaiting him. Terminology such as spin-offs he's seen met with mixed reception on the internet, while the initial thought in his mind was Isn't it better if there's more? His journey within Penacony has broadened his horizon on a few matters.

Keeping a spirited sense of the base concept's authenticity felt like a important pre-requisite.

So color him surprised when Welt invited him for a momentary sit down. His own reading material being contently pushed to the side for the time. "Me in mind? Gotta ask Mr.Yang, just how so?" Believe it or not, this man was one of the few who could stir that genuine sense of respect out of the Trailblazer. That innate curiosity to simply explore remains as a guiding torch within his eyes as he studiedd the sketches introduced below.

Somehow, it feels like he almost gets how it'd feel to be in workshop similar to the sort Mikhail grew in. Except the comparison are these imagined mechs vs the gear imbued industry of pocket watches. A sense of wonder courses through Caelus as he scoots closer, hands placed upon the table, a ways away from the parchment of his work as he surveys again, again and again. Simply admiring how the work of pen, pencil and the golden note of practice managed to draw this concept to the living world.

"Goddamn I.. Look at this! You've been in the art lab puttin' life into these?"

Somehow, there's a sentimental note that rings as Welt explains the motivations. A prideful flame blooms within the Trailblazer's chest, coursing freely, extending to each and every member of the Astral Express in question. It felt impossible to keep such a jubilant expression at bay when the pieces just click. "Just like us, just like the Express." The words found themselves freed without second thought.

When it comes down to it, their beliefs may differ, they each hold a pillar of resolve that serves as shining stars amidst the deep cosmos of space, nonetheless they come together happily with courage in their hearts. He couldn't deny the emotional stir as a certain hat blooms into being, pressed close to Caelus's chest as he turns to Welt.

It was... Hard to put exactly how he feel into words. How do you articulate appreciation like this exactly?

Welt's art has reached him.

"Thick or thin, from the hottest planes to the coldest ends of space. Mr.Yang, I want you to know that I'll always have your back. That I'm a pretty selfish guy when it comes to looking out for those I care for, our Express."

Super Sentai, huh? He'll have to genuinely check out some reccomendations.

@dasniichts

[blackbackedjackal]

That post about brushes is so real. Ive downloaded so many brushes to try and use but inevitably go back to two of the default ones that came with the program. Its a shame cuz some of those brushes look cool in theory but i never like how they look with my style

And yea, maybe some of them would save time, but I'd rather do things the long way and get a result im happy with ykwim

I feel that so hard. Like I'd love if there was a brush for every scenario to save me time but sometimes you just don't vibe with them or you can't mess with the settings in a way that works well for you. It's like having a pencil or pen you like to draw with then jumping to a colored pencil or crayon and not liking the way it feels. Everyone renders differently and not every tool will be useful or work for everyone but when you have that one tool that words it's super nice. Hell, I'm guilty of buying 2-4 of the same kinds of sketchbooks just because I like the paper and it feels weird to switch after being accustom to the same texture for a while.

I use the same brush for most of my digital work and only use different ones for certain situations. Both of these were rendered with the same two tools (lasso tool and real watercolor brush). If you know how to mess with file sizes and brush settings you can get a lot out of just using tools you're comfortable with.

I deffo would have saved time using a fur brush or something, but sometimes hand drawing with a tool I'm comfortable with just gives me more control of what I want my work to look like in the end.

Shortcuts like specific brushes are always good and welcome, especially if you like it and it works for your style. But for me, if I gotta draw every damn strand of June's hair to be satisfied with the results then I'll do it because that's part of what makes my style, my style. I'd rather experiment in my comfort zone so I can learn how I personally render something. For me, leaning HOW I render helps for when I study how other people render things, or try out different tools. I have a better understanding of what I'm working towards stylistically, so when I try something and it doesn't work, I know it's just because it doesn't work for me and know I need to keep searching for something that does.

You're allowed to learn and try new things and make mistakes (assuming those mistakes are in good faith) because that's how you grow as an artist. So long as it's an honest and earnest attempt and you're willing to learn and evolve as you go, I don't think it's fair to just dog on someone for doing their best in that moment just because it's not perfect. There is always room for improvement, but sometimes that improvement won't happen until several attempts later. Like idk some people just don't know how to be chill and jump to really insane conclusions. It's so much easier to be like "hey, I noticed that you were trying to render this, here's some resources I used to learn how to do this, hope they help next time you try this out," instead of WHY DIDN'T YOU USE THESE TOOLS OR MAKE THIS LOOK PERFECT??? WHY DID YOU POST THIS IF YOU KNEW IT DIDN'T LOOK PERFECT??? etc.

[jgvfhl]

The Number Lad Is A Menace

And of course by Thee Number Lad, I mean my darling Sevenset :) This is one more chapter of silliness for everyone to enjoy! I'll be honest, the next chapter might come a little later than April 1st because of my chock-a-block full schedule right now, but it will happen in April!!! We gotta start the next arc!!! I'm so excited!! Thank you to everyone who's been reading these chapters, I really appreciate it.

Words: ~4100 Warnings: None Link to the Masterlist of Chapters Link to the story on Ao3 if that's easier for folks (it's still 1 chapter behind, but it'll be up to date by the next installment)

Sevenset looked up from his little sketchbook, finally noticing the bunks around him in the temporary barracks on Rancor’s Venator cruiser were filling up. He checked the time on his vambrace.

Huh.

Okay, well, he hadn’t meant to spend almost two hours designing his next tattoo, but these things happened. He added the last few lines and snapped the book shut around his pencil, wrapping the elastic band around the book and tucking it under his pillow.

Upon attempting to stand, his body informed him he had been sitting in a horrible position for almost two hours, and standing so quickly was not possible right now.

“Ow,” he muttered, stretching his legs out and leaning down to touch the toes of his boots.

“Yeah, it looked like you were doing your best impression of an ithorian down there.”

Sevenset looked up, finding his squadmate Buster lying in his bunk, prepped for sleep cycle, which was due to start for them in a few minutes.

“Was it any good?” he asked, finally standing up slowly to stretch his back.

Buster frowned. “Dunno, you don’t quite have the face for it.”

A lump in the bunk underneath Buster grumbled. “Would you shut up ‘n sleep?”

Buster smiled, leaning over the side to look down. His field partner Sketch valued his sleep like a dragon did its hoard, and right now, only the man’s mohawk and little strips of the pink-dyed buzzed hair either side were visible over the edge of the blanket pulled up over his face.

“Sorry, Sketch,” Sevenset said, a little quieter. “I’ll leave you to your beauty rest.”

Sketch grumbled again and Buster gave a small smile before settling back on his mattress. “Have fun on the night shift,” he said.

“Oh, I always do,” Sevenset replied, finding his kit and putting it on. He wasn’t being sarcastic, for once. He really did enjoy the night shift. He’d always been a bit… off as far as circadian rhythm (his squad on Kamino had hated it), so it made perfect sense to him to take the later shifts while he was at his best, and rest when the weirdo “morning people” were up and functional.

He was by the door when Buster called his name–quietly still, so he didn’t wake anyone.

“What?”

Buster held up a datapad. “I forgot to drop this off with the commanders,” he said, handing it down to him. “Do you think you can do that?”

Sevenset considered it. “Well, as long as I know which room I’m going to, shouldn’t be a problem.”

The other ARC rubbed his head, squinting in efforts to recall. “I think Colt is in one-eighteen C? It’s near the bridge, one level up from us.”

He stared at Buster, knowing very well he had no idea the gift he had just given him. He nodded solemnly. “Consider it done, vod,” he said as seriously as he could muster, adding a sharp salute as well.

Buster just rolled his eyes and lay down, shuffling his blanket around as he got comfortable. “Maker help us, you’re somethin’ else, Sevens,” he smiled.

Sevenset grinned back, turning off the lights as he left the room and headed to the briefing room for his shift assignments. Nothing too dramatic, considering they were hurtling through hyperspace, and the truly important people—the engineers, the navigators, the bridge officers—were all taking shifts as well, keeping them on track towards Kamino. But, his light duties did mean he had plenty of time to get them done in a timely fashion, then go see about room 118C and hope its occupant was out of the room…

As was often the case, Sevenset was given inspection duties. He had notable attention to detail and a quick eye for making sure everything was ship-shape in no time, so the COs had no issues handing it off to him time and time again, and he had no issues completing it time and time again. Tonight, it was weapons lock-up with Tracer, one of many ARF troopers that had accompanied this most recent mission.

It was good to have company, given the sheer number of weapons on the cruiser. They divided the work between them and went to it. There was something incredibly satisfying about checking all the boxes off as he went down the racks of blasters and ammunition lining the room. He was done before he’d even had time to properly enjoy the mindlessness of it all.

Tracer glanced over at him when he’d been standing still for too long. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything’s accounted for.”

Tracer blinked. He was almost done, maybe a few racks away from completion. “You’re done?”

“Yeah, I like this kinda gig,” he explained as simply as he could. “Figure it’s why I keep getting the same assignments,” he added with a grin. “Listen, I gotta go drop something with Commander Colt, do you mind if I head out?”

Tracer shook his head. “Nah, go for it.”

So he did. He dropped off the datapad with the inventory with one of the lieutenants, then made his way to a lift and went up the level and towards the bridge in hopes of finding his commander’s room empty and unguarded.

Hopefully.

Force, if he managed to pull this off… He grinned to himself wickedly.

Would it undoubtedly result in disciplinary actions? Yes.

Would pranking Colt be worth it?

Oh hells yeah.

He found room 118C right where Buster had told him. Now, it was normal for a commander’s door to be locked or otherwise secured from the outside, and Sevenset respected this and knew why it was the case. It hadn’t stopped him from creating a device capable of slicing a simple door panel as a one-time-only deal in case of emergency urges to start some shit.

Colt might kill him.

It was a worthy sacrifice.

He knocked on the door and waited, listening intently for a response. Just to be sure, he knocked again, louder, throwing glances down the corridor in either direction to take stock of how many people were around. Not many. When no one answered the door the second time, he tried pushing the button to open it, on the off chance the door was unlocked. It wasn’t.

Time for plan B.

He reached into one of the compartments in his utility belt and found a small electronic device which he stuck to the door control panel. He did his best to be quick, not wanting to attract undue attention while messing with the commander’s door. He pressed the device’s singular button and knocked a third time, waiting for the device to do its work.

In a few seconds, the door slid open, and he snatched the device from the panel and stepped inside.

This ship wasn’t often used, so most of the living and sleeping quarters onboard were sparsely decorated if at all. Troopers were much more likely to leave anything of real sentimental value on Kamino; it was considerably safer. Commander Colt was no exception, and might have had even less stuff in his room than some of his subordinates.

Sevenset set the datapad from Buster down on the desk. He wasn’t a complete asshole: he wasn’t going to get Buster in trouble by making his report hard to find. Surveying the desk, he found a couple stacks of similar datapads, a few crumpled pieces of flimsi, a few loose pencils and styluses, and a mug of stone-cold caff from the mess. Hm…

Looking over to the bed in the same room, he saw it was impeccably made to regulation, the corners tucked in just so, the blanket pulled up and over the pillow. Oh, now that was an idea….

Without waiting to think (because the commander could be back any second), he went to the bed and picked up the entire mattress, awkwardly maneuvering it until he could put it back down 180 degrees from its original position. He tucked the blanket and sheet back in, making the bed up fit to make any CO proud.

Any CO but Colt, actually.

Next, he went to the desk, knowing it would be bad on a few levels to rearrange the datapads and paper on the desk, so he settled for moving the entire piece of furniture two or three inches farther away from the wall. It was a little tricky, because the desk had to be secured to the floor for safety’s sake. But, it was easy enough to unhitch it and slide it down the tracks in the floor a little bit, then fasten it back down. He pushed the chair to the same relative position he’d found it in, and then quickly rearranged the writing utensils and the mug on the desk, leaving the datapads and filmsi untouched.

Stepping back, he took in his handiwork, his mind whirring as he sought out anything else he might be able to do in the precious few seconds he was allowing himself.

His eye fell on the doorway leading to the refresher. Lucky bastards with their own showers, commanders. Well…. He hurried over, his eyes flicking around the room in a heartbeat until they landed on the bar of soap in the shower, and the mirror over the sink.

Perfect.

-scene break-

Sevenset was still buzzing with happy anticipation as he grabbed his “midnight meal” from the mess and found a table to sit down. The night shift was light, as usual, and truthfully, among those present, he wasn’t sure how many would really appreciate his company. He was an acquired taste. So, he found a table along one wall and sat there people-watching while he ate, his eyes always drifting back to the doors, waiting for the inevitable storm his latest prank would bring down.

He finished his meal in peace, dropping the tray and utensils off to be cleaned before heading out again. Until his shift was officially over, he didn’t have much to do except to stay awake and make sure the others not on shift got their rest. Maybe he’d go find a viewport and draw…. Changing trajectory, he started off down the hall back to his barracks room to get his sketchbook and pencils, already planning to take his clunkiest armor pieces off outside the room so he wouldn’t make too much noise. Stealth training could only do so much with all this plastoid clattering around. No one else seemed to notice how loud it was, though. Maybe it was just in his head.

When he turned the corner into the corridor with his room in it, he just as quickly slammed his body back around the corner out of sight upon seeing Commander Colt at his barracks door.

He heard the door slide open, and stuck his head around the corner to see Colt march into the room, switch the lights on, and yell, “Buster! Get up! On your feet, double time, trooper, let’s go!”

Sevenset winced slightly. The commander wouldn’t have known Buster had told him to deliver his report. In reality, he would have walked in, seen the upset, seen a report that had not been there before the upset, and would have immediately sought out the author of said report.

So much for not getting him in trouble.

He crept around the corner and quickly and quietly made his way down the hall until he was just outside the room. He could hear grumbling and creaking bunks from inside, as well as Colt demanding Buster’s explanation as to why his room had been tampered with around the same time his report had appeared on his desk.

Buster, Maker bless him, was not a morning person, and was having considerable difficulty processing the situation.

“I didn’ do anything, sir! I did the report, it’s there–”

“The report is not the karking problem, ARC!”

Plastering an easy smile on his face, he slipped into the room as quietly as he could. Buster was standing at rigid attention looking completely baffled at the commander, who was standing with his fists on his hips, looming over him. Other disgruntled faces poked out from blankets in the other bunks. Sketch looked positively murderous.

“The problem is in fact everything other than the report!” the commander went on, his attention undivided.

Sevenset saw his sketchbook sticking out from under his pillow just to Buster’s left, so he feigned innocent ignorance and went to step around the commander, watching his arms in case his tirade grew more animated all of a sudden.

“You had the audacity–the utter stupidity–to think that was funny–” Commander Colt froze, his helmet turning slowly as he registered Sevenset’s sudden presence at his right shoulder.

“Evening, Commander,” Sevenset chirped, giving a small salute. “Just here for my sketchbook.” He crept closer to it. “Oh, Buster,” he added, “I got that report on his desk just like you asked, don’t worry about it.”

Buster’s rigid stance relaxed out of pure shock for an instant, before jolting back when the commander opened his mouth.

“You.” His hand shot out and grabbed the collar of Sevenset's chestplate. “You did this?”

“Uh… I have been known to do a lot of things, sir,” Sevenset replied. “Some specificity would be greatly appreci–”

“Did you rearrange my kriffing room, Sevenset?” the commander growled, pulling him even closer.

Sevenset made a great show of scrunching his face up as he seemed to think about his answer. “Eh… I’m not sure what I did truly constitutes rearranging, sir. Maybe a little redecoration, a little–auck!”

His response was cut off by the commander turning and dragging him bodily out of the room. He managed to hit the lights on the way out, apologizing to his squadmates as best as he could with the commander’s knuckles pressing into his throat.

When they were outside and half-way down the hall, Commander Colt finally released him. Sevenset had just reached up to adjust his armor back to where it sat most comfortably when he found the commander’s gloved hands grabbing either side of his face.

“What the ever-loving kriff is wrong with you?”

“That’s a loaded question, sir,” he grinned, a little thrown by the odd method of restraint. “You didn’t appreciate the little affirmation I left you?”

The commander’s helmet tilted to one side. “You wrote, ‘Hey there, handsome,’ on the mirror with my bar of soap.”

“It’s always good to start your day with a compliment, sir!”

Commander Colt let go of his face, then flicked his nose, and he yelped.

“Laps,” he said. “Five of them. Now.”

Five wasn’t so bad. He’d be done in no time. He saluted sharply. “Can do, sir!”

As he started to jog down the corridor, he heard the commander call, “This is supposed to be a punishment! Don’t look so kriffing happy about it!”

-scene break-

Rancor Battalion was back on Kamino in another rotation or so, most of the troopers returning immediately to the barracks or to requisition replacement gear for the damage suffered on the mission. Standard practice, at this point. Sevenset was used to the routine, and he liked that it never changed too much, a bit like the Guard back on Coruscant. He went with his squad back to their barracks to put his things away, give Beskar a pat on the dome for taking care of their space in their absence, and maybe grab a snack. Everyone else was settling in for the night, hoping to readjust their internal clocks as fast as possible, and Sevenset reasoned he could do the same, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.

He’d told Do-si-do he’d have to host the Numbers meeting this time around, because he’d had no idea if he would have been back in time, and he hadn’t been. Not quite. He could still catch the tail-end of the meeting, if he was lucky. He got to his usual hidey-hole in a rarely-used conference room and lit up the holotable, tuning it to the correct frequency with barely a thought.

Various holograms appeared at once as he connected to the transmission. It appeared the 212th and the Wolfies were on duty, because the meeting was missing Nines and Loops, but everyone else was there, including the commander.

“Sevenset!” Do-si-do beamed. “Dude, you’re just in time. Elevens was gonna tell us about Commander Thire messing with the Chancellor!”

Oh well, this he had to hear. “I am all ears, little bro,” he grinned, leaning on the table in front of him.

Elevensies smiled back. “Okay, so, I heard this from one of my squadmates, who heard it from Captain Iode when he was talking to Commander Stone,” he began. “So it might not be quite what happened.”

“Does it seem like we’ll care if it’s true?” Fives asked. He and Echo were smushed together at one end of a bunk, presumably so Echo could rest his leg on the mattress. “We just care if it’s funny.”

“Okay, yeah.” Elevensies went on. “So, Commander Thire was leading the Chancellor’s escort this morning–like his security detail, right?”

Sevenset nodded, remembering serving exactly one day on that detail before Fox promptly moved him elsewhere. He never did find out if that was because the Chancellor had asked, or if Fox had gotten pissed off…

“So, it’s a lot of standing still while people talk to the Chancellor, and following him around the Senate building and his office–not very exciting.”

He vividly remembered that.

“Commander Thire was standing right next to the Chancellor at some point,” Elevensies continued. “I dunno, maybe the hallway was small, but that doesn’t matter. What matters,” he said with a grin, “is the Chancellor’s robe had a thread loose on the hem.”

Sevenset’s mouth dropped open. “He didn’t.”

Commander Sixes shook his head, rubbing his face. “He absolutely did.”

“He totally did!” Elevensies laughed, throwing his hands up and leaning back against the wall behind him. “He stepped on the thread and unraveled the Chancellor’s robe half-way to his knees!”

Sevenset and most of the others there joined him in cackling at the mental image of the ever-cool and collected Chancellor Palpatine suddenly finding himself bare-legged from the calves down. Oh, he would have paid to have been on that escort. Actual credits. The man probably hadn’t even blinked! He probably had just been politely shocked and been swept off to a room to wait for a new robe to be delivered, but holy Force, that was hilarious.

When the group had largely collected themselves again, wiping damp eyes and suppressing the remaining giggles, Do-si-do raised a hand. “So what kind of shoes does the Chancellor wear?”

That set Sevenset off again–Maker only knew why. “Why do you wanna know?” he asked through the new fit of laughter.

“So I can judge him!” his friend shot back. “Please tell me he wears old person shoes.”

Elevensies was giggling again too, and he shook his head and shrugged. “I dunno, I didn’t hear that part.”

“What if he wears sandals?” Fives asked. “Like sandals with socks?”

Do-si-do snorted, slumping further in his pilot’s seat. “No! No one should do that! I will call the fashion police!”

“No, no, no,” Sevenset cut in, “hear him out. I think he’s onto something.”

“No!”

Echo smirked. “What if he wears sandals without socks and just had his wrinkly old toes sticking out for everyone to see?”

A chorus of groans erupted after that remark, Sevenset not hesitating to join them. No one needed that image haunting their nightmares. Not even Fox!

“What if it’s boots?” Trees hazarded.

Sevenset might have been more tired than he’d originally thought, but it was okay, because Do-si-do was apparently right there with him on a lack of verbal filter and a severe lack of situational awareness.

“Like stripper boots?” they both said in unison.

While everyone else (except the commander) started wheezing with laughter again, Trees just stared at them like they were the most concerning specimens he’d seen to date. Sevenset caught Do-si-do’s eye, and they both lost it again, laughing until tears came and Sevenset found it difficult to stand upright.

“No, not like stripper boots!” Trees replied indignantly once the noise had died down a little. “That was kriffing creepy, you two!”

It only made them laugh harder, and Sevenset found he could no longer keep himself upright. Finally, he managed to pull himself back up and steady himself against the table, wiping tears from his face and feeling his face start to ache from smiling. This group had been his best idea ever. Where else was he going to get a debate about the Chancellor’s footwear? With a commander in the room not stopping them? It was a miracle.

Speaking of…. “Hey, Commander,” he said, his voice a little raw from laughing.

“What?”

“How–how is it,” he said around a hiccup of laughter, “we’re all dying, and you haven’t broken a sweat, sir? You gotta admit, the Chancellor in stripper boots is funny.”

“Try harder next time,” the commander replied, with a faint but distinct upward curve to his mouth.

Oh it was like that, was it?

“Alright I will,” he said, pointing at the hologram. “I will find something to crack that prickly ol’ shell you’ve set up, mark my words.”

“I’m shaking in my boots.”

“Oh, come on!”

“Should I start a tally?” Zero offered. “Keep track of what he doesn’t laugh at, see if we can narrow it down?”

“Absolutely, Zero,” he said. “We’re gonna science the kark outta this.”

The commander raised an eyebrow at them, one of his scars buckling on his forehead. “You’ll fail.”

“Why?” Sevenset challenged. Was the commander worried they’d actually find something? Was he truly that confident they wouldn’t?

Before he got an answer, someone else appeared behind Commander Sixes.

Zero waved. “Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, Zero,” Commander Nero said like nothing had happened. That would be a fun joke for Colt…

“Something wrong?” Commander Sixes asked, looking up at him.

The other commander knelt down next to his chair, placing a datapad on the surface out of frame. “Yeah, nothing big. Got the new recon intel, we might have to shimmy up the positions a bit for the first assault.”

“Wait, really?” Zero asked, and was ignored.

“Okay.” The commander blinked at him.

Commander Nero stared back, completely serious. “I’d suggest banana.”

Sevenset looked around, glancing over the other faces present. Most of the other Numbers wore similar expressions of vague confusion, with the odd flicker of mirth because who the hell called battle strategies banana?

But then he saw it. It was faint, but he saw Commander Sixes’ mustache twitch like he was trying to fight back a smile. The muscles in his neck flexed almost imperceptibly. Commander Nero remained stony, staring him down, like he was daring him to break.

That couldn’t be it… Commander Death’s weakness couldn’t be…

After what felt like an eon of strained silence, Commander Sixes spoke. “You little bastard.” His voice cracked on the last word, an unmistakable grin fighting its way onto his face as he tried to hold himself together.

“You don’t wanna use banana?” Commander Nero said innocently, his eyes flicking towards the holoprojector beside them.

The dam broke. Commander Sixes leaned his elbow on the desk beside him, putting his face in his hand, his shoulders shaking as he laughed. It was quiet and rough, like the rest of his personality, but no one could deny that was laughter.

“Oh, Maker help you,” he breathed, looking to the other commander, who was grinning like a loth cat who’d found the fish. Sevenset found himself riveted to the hologram in front of him, drinking in the biggest smile he’d ever seen on the commander’s face since he’d met the man.

“Help me?” Commander Nero said.

“Yeah. ‘Cause I’m gonna get a banana and shove it so far down your throat, you’ll be seeing yellow for weeks.” The threat lost a bit of an edge due to the huge grin still stuck on Commander Sixes’ face and the repressed bursts of laughter that had almost cut him off, and the fact that the other commander burst out laughing as soon as he said it, disappearing from view as he collapsed to the floor. “Karking hell,” Commander Sixes muttered, reaching over and turning off his holoprojector, disappearing from the meeting.

There was silence for a moment, even from Zero.

Finally, after a generous moment to process what they had all witnessed, Sevenset addressed the main point.

“Banana jokes?” he said, putting his hands on his hips in mock severity. “That’s all it would have taken? Bananas?”

“Well, they are very a-peel-ing to some people,” Echo replied without hesitation.

Fives shoved him off the bunk gracelessly.

Ta-da!! Sevenset being a menace! I hope you enjoyed! @23-bears @theultimatesandwich @mercurydancer @rndmpeep @beskarmermaid @persimminwrites @darth-void @soclonely

[lcfthaunted]

It’s been about a month since Mazie’s decided to stay in the desert, become a permanent fixture in the Haven. She’s sitting near the front doors, sketchbook (a gift from Aiden) in her lap as she captures the landscape outside.

At least, she had been, until she noticed the truck. She closes her sketchbook and sets it and her pencils on the floor next to her, standing when the truck draws closer. She doesn’t get a good enough look at the driver before the truck turns and reverses towards to doors, revealing a bed full of furniture. The driver’s door opens, and the driver swings around so his right foot touches the ground first. Mazie gasps in surprise, recognizing him immediately. She tosses a glance at Jack, as if to make sure she’s not imagining things.

A black lab jumps out of the cab after him. Zach reaches back into the cab for a backpack, slings it over one shoulder, and the pair head for the doors. He’s only got eyes for his sister when he enters, a warm smile lightening his features. “Hey, Zee. Sorry it took so long.” He drops the backpack to pull her close, wrapping her in a tight hug.

Mazie buries her face in his shoulder, almost immediately overcome with tears. Zach gently rubs her back, letting her cry. He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re always gonna be my little sister,” he promises in a soft murmur. “I’m sorry if I didn’t make that clear enough before.”

She just shakes her head and clings to him for several long moments, trying to wrest her emotions back under control while enjoying a hug from her brother for the first time in over thirteen years. She doesn’t pull away, just shifts to she can wipe at her face, giving an embarrassed little laugh. “Sorry.”

“Nothin’ to apologize for, baby.” He tips her chin up enough to press a kiss to her forehead. “I woulda come by earlier, but a little mouse wanted me to get this to you.” He starts to bend to grab the bag, but she’s faster, releasing him to drop and grab the bag, straightening again just as quickly.

“Is this what I think it is?” she asks, grin spreading across her face, bag handle in both hands.

He grins back. “I didn’t check, but knowin’ our mouse, probably.”

She tears the backpack open and squeals in delight, snatching a blue lace object out of the bag and clutching it to her chest. “I have,” she declares, “the best little sister in the entire world.”

“I’ll tell ‘er you said that,” Zach laughs.

“Do.” She shoves the lace back in the backpack and digs through it, making delighted noises at Mallaidh’s care package. She sighs, holding the bag to her chest, and gives Zach a sad smile. “Tell her thank you for me.” She hesitates a beat, then starts, “Is she…?”

“She’s fine, Maze,” he assures her immediately. “Glad you stayed out here, actually.” his voice quiets; the next is for Mazie alone, not any nearby ears. “Glad you figured out how to choose yourself. She was worried she’d watch you die, in there.”

Mazie’s expression twists in remorse. “I don’t like leaving her behind,” she whispers.

He pulls her into another hug; she goes easily. “I know, little one. We’re tryna convince her to come out here, but you know our little mouse.”

She chokes on a laugh. “Don’t I ever.” She drops her head against his shoulder again. “She’s doing good in there,” she mumbles miserably. “I just wish she didn’t have to be in the belly of the damn beast to do it.”

“Yeah.” Zach slings his arm across her shoulders. “Alright, little girl. Show me where you’re stayin’ so we can get you set up proper.”

Mazie leads Zach to the unit she’s been using; she’d chosen one of the smaller vacant ones to avoid taking up more space than necessary.

Zach takes one glance at it and declares, “No.” He sets off down the hall in search of another vacant unit.

Mazie gawks at him for a moment before starting after him. “Zach—”

“Look, if we’re gettin’ Mallaidh out to you, gotta be ready for her, yeah? Ain’t squishin’ the two’f you in that teeny thing.”

“Oh, she’s coming to me?”

“She sure as hell ain’t stayin’ at my place’a work.”

Mazie frowns hard at him. “And where do you work?”

Zach tosses her a grin. “The Tavern.” He says it like it should mean something; to anyone else, it probably does. “Here,” he decides, before Mazie can protest any further. “Now, I’m gonna need help unloadin’ the truck, an’ I don’t have all day if I’m gettin’ back to the Tavern before dusk. Think your Jack’ll lend a hand?”

Mazie glowers at her brother. “Jack’s probably busy,” she says, a dangerous edge to her voice. “I’m sure I can scare up some other free hands for you.”

Zach just grins at her.

[greetingsfromuranus]

Your art is incredible... what was the most useful resource to you when you were learning? What kind of exercises did you use?

My response ended up quite long-winded and all over the place, so TLDR:

1: study other art and the processes the artists use (look at sketches, watch videos of people drawing/painting, look at how different industries handle learning and teaching stuff)

2: figure drawing is always good for you (humans AND animals) + a good warmup I sometimes use: draw cubes and stuff from different angles, try out different types of perspective, and try bending and stretching them all weird, playing with the shapes as much as you can

3: experiment with different styles, subjects, and mediums so you can learn different things and find what you're most comfortable with

4: draw what you LIKE because passion makes art good (also RELAX and don't get too caught up in things, just chug things out for a bit and get your hands warmed up)

5: this one isn't mentioned below but you'll have to make 1000 crappy drawings before you make good ones so just muscle through it until you get where you want to be (it'll be ok)

6: oh oh and I like to make lines that feel good in my hands specifically, do whatever feels natural it'll be fun. Don't always dwell on your weaknesses, explore your strengths and expand them.

7: also I've gotten good by physically drawing things bigger, zooming out and all that. Dont get stuck with regular notebook paper, get a sketchbook and make your art feel special (or if you're doing digital art make a special folder or somethin)

8: only take advice from ARTISTS that you KNOW AND TRUST, not some jackass on YouTube, or your parents (this has held me back the most)

I'm gonna start out by describing what I've done to learn, and then talk more about the mindset that REALLY got me where I am. I will also mention that I'm very much still in the process of learning, there's so much more I want to be able to do, and I am by no means an expert.

I've gotten my art where it is recently by studying how other artists draw - specifically looking at the processes they use, different methods of sketching what different materials/tools they use and WHY, etc etc..... I've experimented with a variety of subjects and styles over my life, and learned different things from each one. I think that's really important to do, because it allows you to find out what you're most comfortable with, and learn the different methods that you can even apply outside of the medium you learned them from. With how much art is out there,it can be intimidating and seem like too much to grasp, but you just gotta muscle through it. Learning is fun!!!

My biggest inspiration to my current style is definitelyed edd n eddy, and especially the art of Raven Molisee - I look at his art specifically because you can often see the sketches behind the lineart, which is super useful in figuring out what his drawing method is like! Specifically the thing where you sketch in a different color than you do lineart in, it's really obvious honestly but I've just never done it! But sketching with the same pencil i line with can be restricting, and end up just looking messy, leaving me less satisfied with the result and less motivated. Anyways, I think it's good to study the art you like, and find exactly what it is about it that you like so much, so that you can take those qualities and put them into your own art!l

I've also done a decent bit of figure drawing since I was a kid - understanding the structure, musculature, movement, etc... of human and animal bodies helps immensely with the styles im often going for - but understanding those specific things isnt required! I think having a good grasp on forms and silhouettes is equally important, and im currently working on getting better at that. I've been looking at cave paintings and other prehistoric art, their grasp on form is incredible, and the more conceptual view on figures is really interesting! While we're on that topic - I think it's important to study art from other time periods and cultures!! That's where you'll find the greatest variety in methods, mindsets, and completely different ways of making and viewing art. (I reccomend looking at some pre-rennaissance art.....incredible stuff out there...)

Now as for the mindset side of things:

I'll start out by saying: I've never taken an art class past middle school, so my technical knowledge is very lacking... one thing I was told early on was "don't use art as reference, only use real life-" But that's bogus!!!!! The way I've gotten my art to improve so much is by looking at other artists work and seeing what techniques they use to get their stuff the way it is. Humans can be as incredible as they are *only* because they can pass on knowledge to eachother. When it comes to cartoons/animation specifically, the the absolute best way to learn a certain style is to copy it over and over until you can get it the way you want. And study it on a deeper level of course. Get your favorite character and draw them over and over and over until you really understand their movement and volumes and expressions, that's what I do lol.

I would recommend taking some sort of art course, or following one of those youtube series where they teach you stuff, it would REALLY speed up the process of fixing the things that hold back your growth as an artist, but dont let other's critiques get to you (ive heard thats the problem with many art classes). I think the best way to get gud is to figure out what YOU want your art to be, and only take critique from yourself so that you can make the art YOU want, not what somebody else wants. Audiences are fickle and they don't actually know what they want, so never listen to them (ive learned this from some of my artist friends)

ALSO don't watch those YouTube videos about how certain art is BAD and this other art is GOOD, if you take their advice, you're just gonna be sad and you art will get boring.... draw the things you want like you're 8 years old and drawing your same favorite animal every day. MLP oc critics are the reason I can't color for shit, I took their advice and limited my colors to a certain amount and now I don't know how to use more than 3 colors at a time. So I just dont color. Which I'm sad about lol