#i have a lotta homework already and can’t draw anything new but i wanna be part of this fandom so bad plssss

[trashbagmike]

What do you mean cowboy Deadpool doesn’t haunt YOUR dreams?!

Not my best work

[sun-kissed-star]

Medda and Jack are Here

Jack is 10 or so in this one again

enjoy, babes!

trigger warning: past child abuse (emotional and physical), mentions of injury

Jack rubbed his fingers over the pencil stub in his hand, using the sun rising outside the bars on the window to watch the shadows flicker over the sketch. The best he had for paper was an old napkin from the dining hall, but he��d made it work for the last few weeks.

Sighing, he leaned back against the wall and tipped his head back to watch the sun. It was the last few minutes of quiet he had before an alarm would sound off or a guard would come tromping through the door. Some kids were sitting up in their beds already, but most had sheets pulled over their heads to revel in the safety that came with the dark nights. When the guards were outside with flashlights and Snyder was sleeping on satin pillows, they didn’t have to worry about holding their breath and keeping their heads down. It was bliss, peace, and silence.

But in the Refuge, that could never last for very long.

The door clicked, and a few kids shot up with wide eyes. Jack felt his shoulders tense, but he tried to ignore it as he brushed the charcoal shavings off the napkin. When the door creaked open, a shadow was standing under the frame, and Jack had to blink to adjust his eyes to the light as he looked up.

Snyder stepped in through the door, shielding the hall light from melting into the room.

Jack felt his heart lurch. He ducked his head on instinct as Snyder walked around, hands clasped behind his back with that evil sneer Jack had grown to know and hate.

Snyder stopped in front of the window, just Jack’s luck. Towering over him, he looked about eleven times bigger than he was when Jack was on his feet.

“Stand up, boy,” he barked. Jack stood, glaring at him the whole way. “What are you doing?”

He ripped the napkin from Jack’s fingers. He held it up to his eyes, squinting at the drawing. It was just a picture of Jack’s dad before the streets had gotten to him. His eyes were wrinkled with laugh lines, and he was wearing a smile. Something Jack wished he could find in a place like this.

“What the hell is this, Kelly?” Snyder said, waving the napkin under Jack’s nose. “Huh? What is this absolute shit?”

“None of your business is what it is,” Jack mumbled.

“What’d you just say to me, you little rat?” Snyder bent down to Jack’s level and held the napkin up. His hand crumpled into a fist, crushing the drawing with it. It was like the smiles, the closest thing Jack had found to happiness in days, were being pounded out right in front of him. “Think you can defend yourself against garbage like this? You really think anyone’s gonna give a damn what a little kid can puke out on some paper with an old pencil?”

When Jack didn’t say anything, his glare burning holes in the floor, Snyder shoved him back by the forehead. Jack stumbled and hit the wall, and Snyder used that moment to kick him in the ribs and send him to the floor.

Jack curled up, wrapping one arm around his stomach. His other hand was still holding the pencil for dear life. Snyder bent down again, pulling it away and snapping it in half. His eyes were cold, but they sent a burning pain through Jack’s heart.

“You’re worthless, Kelly,” he said, spit flying from his mouth and landing on Jack’s face. “You’ll never be good at what you do and no one will ever care. Got that?”

He didn’t even wait for an answer. He shoved Jack again, and Jack winced as the wood from the wall dug into his back. Snyder leaned up again, his eyes roaming around the room as if looking for anyone that would dare to move an inch with him around. Satisfied, he nodded to Jack as if they’d just been talking about the weather, turned around, and left the room. The napkin was still crumpled in his fist, the pencil shards in the other.

Jack watched him go with blank eyes, his knees pulling themselves up to his chest. He rubbed his stomach and whatever bruise Snyder had left there. It sure was a lot easier than thinking about his words, swimming around in his head and drowning him in his thoughts.

No one will ever care.

“What’re you doin’, honey?”

Jack slammed the notebook paper down on the table. He twisted around in his desk chair to look up at Medda, who was standing behind him with a hand on her hip and another on the back of the chair. He swallowed, discreetly tucking his pencil in his pocket.

“Uh, nothin’?” he tried, voice raising like he was asking a question.

“Doin’ homework?” Medda said. “Only fifth grade and they’re already piling on the work, huh?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jack said, looking down at his socks. He swung his feet above the ground, just to have something else to do other than meet her eyes. “Yeah, lotta homework.”

Medda didn’t look convinced. Jack had spent his whole life lying his way out of trouble, but telling her something that wasn’t true required capabilities beyond the human race.

“You sure about that?” she said, squatting down beside him. “Because last time I checked, you stuffed your backpack under your bed for the weekend. Not to mention that it’s Friday, baby.” Jack opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again as if he actually knew what to say. Medda nudged it closed with a finger, smiling softly. “You wanna show me what you were doin’?”

“Not really.”

“Why don’t you show me this time, and next time you can keep it to yourself?” Medda suggested. “Unless you need to me check your math homework again. Then we might have to work out a compromise.”

She smiled again as if she was hoping that would get him to crack a grin, but Jack couldn’t even get his face to lift. His heart was pounding like he was headed straight back to the Refuge as he flipped the corner of the paper.

It was a drawing of a Manhattan street. The first thing he’d seen when he’d walked past the Refuge gates at Medda’s side. She’d been holding his hand, and he’d drawn her off to the side of the sidewalk. He could picture the bright sun on that day as clearly as his own face, and it was lighting up the whole page. Usually, it was something he would draw on a good day, but now all he could feel was a sinking in his stomach as Medda leaned over to look at it.

“’M sorry,” he said. “I know it’s dumb. I was just bored, and, uh, I’ll throw it away. Sorry.”

Medda was shaking her head, and now he was starting to brace himself to watch her crumple it up and throw it at his head. Yeah, she’d never done anything like that before, but there was a first time for everything. 

“Oh, honey,” Medda breathed. “Why on Earth would I want that?” She smoothed the drawing out on the table. “This is beautiful, Jack, and I’d be surprised if I’m the first one to tell you that you’ve got real talent. Natural aptitude, I’d call it.”

Jack blinked. “Altitude?”

“Aptitude. It means you have a big future in front of you.” She got to her feet, putting a hand on the back of his neck and smoothing his hair. “And I can’t wait to see you get it, kid.”

There was a long list of things Jack had been expecting. That definitely had not been on that list. He didn’t know what else to say except for the obvious: “Uh, thanks, Mama.”

“Any time,” Medda said, patting his head. “Now, speaking of it bein’ Friday and all, I’m making pizza. Why don’t you give your hands a break and come down to help me?” 

Jack shrugged. “If it’s okay with you.”

“Honey, trust me,” Medda said, pulling him up under the arms and leading him over to the door, “there’s nothin’ I love more.” 

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[trashbagmike]

Wonky but my art in the end

Drew this around two years ago! And thought to bring it back

(Unrelated but here´s my KoFi if u care <3 )