#on printer paper. that i stole from school.

[marcygoo]

hey does anyone here fw internecion cube

[takemetodragonstone]

tagged by @orion-the-gatherer thanks! this looks fun

i tag @bokulikescomics @jessescatorccio @irn-bru @theladyofcamelias @mega-ringsandthings-world @dragon-with-hoard-of-rocks @tisdae @byclairs @sdktrs12 @that-gay-jedi if you guys wanna!

[satansaidnottoday]

Armistice at the library.

Info: Human AU, Satan's Mc, GN!Mc.

Summary: You have been annoying Satan long enough to get a date.

A/N: We do a little jump in the timeline here, we will keep jumping back and forth depending on what story I want to tell.

Monday was Satan's least favorite day. He had to sift through all of the books left in the return box during the weekend and make sure they didn't get damaged. They then had to be returned to their place on the shelf. Still, the smell of books and the soft silence made up for it. From up high on the ladder, he could see the morning sun slowly rising over the shelves and tables. It was such a beautiful view; it calmed him down.

Suddenly he got dragged, his ladder moving a full meter to the right out of his control. He held on to the railing for dear life. A less than dignified screech left his throat.

"Good morning, loser," you said, letting go of the ladder. 

"Mc, for fucks sake." He cursed you, coming down as fast as his trembling feet let him.

You laughed and sat down on your table, putting your books down and your feet up. Out of all of the regulars, you were the only one who would show up at 7 a.m. every single Monday. He wasn't a fan. 

"I could have fallen!" He pushed your feet off the table and looked down at you, breathing heavily. You loved how worked up he got. 

"I would have caught you," you said, grabbing his hand on yours. "I will always catch you," you said, looking up at him with your best dreamy eyes and soft, loving smile.

His whole face turns a lovely shade of red. His hand rips apart from yours, and he turns around, leaving for the counter with a huff. You watch him leave, waiting until he is sitting at his computer to start your own work. 

Ever since you returned to town, you have been going to the library every day to work. Partly because it was much nicer than the teacher's lounge, and it was right in front of the school. Party because you loved annoying the sexy librarian. You actually knew him from high school before you moved out. He was a hothead, you remembered. It was kind of funny to see him put up such a serious facade. 

The next few hours are spent grading papers and writing assignments. Every so often, Satan lifted his eyes from the desk and stole a look at you. Every single time, you winked at him. The last time he sighed so deeply, you could almost see the air leaving his lungs. You took the opportunity to walk up to him.

"Hey, handsome, mind scanning a book for me?" You ask, leaning down on the counter. You put down your copy of Lord of the Flies in front of you. "I need 20 copies of the first 2 chapters.

"You don't have scanners and printers at school?" He asks, turning the page in his own book.

"No, we're poor," you lied.

"Then I wonder why you're the only teacher who comes here to work." He lifted his eyes just to glare at you.

"Truly a mystery." You pushed the book closer to him. He took it and inspected it.

"You're having twelve-year-olds read Lord of the Flies?" He asks, looking at you weird.

"Why not? They can relate to the protagonists."

In reality, your first class of the day started at noon, and you had prepared no reading material at all. You had picked up the first book you saw in your bag.

"Let me check; I might already have a digital copy." He started typing on his computer.

"So reliable; I love that in a man."

"Well, at least this way, your students don't need to read your 'notes'," he said, making air quotes with his fingers. Behind him, the printer started working.

"What's wrong with my notes?" Your voice came out an octave higher than you expected.

"Let's see," he said, opening the book up. "We have 'Oh no oh no oh no'," he pauses to look at you for a second. "Just a bunch of 'damn', 'damn', 'damn', 'these kids are fucked up' and then 'poor piggy' sad face." 

You felt the heat rising in your own face as you took the book from his hands. "In my defense, those kids were fucked up."

He laughed at you. It made you wish the printer would work faster. You didn't like being on this side of the power dynamic.

"I should charge your school for all these copies," he said, stapling the copies together as they came out of the printer.

You snorted. "Good luck with that. They're already paying me with hopes and dreams."

He smiled, a non-malicious smile for the first time. "On that, we can relate at last."

"The woes of government employment." 

You stacked the copies as he handed them to you, and when they were all ready, you pushed them into your briefcase.

"Thank you, good sir." You offered him your hand for a shake, and he reluctantly took it. You pulled a fast one and bowed down to kiss it. Heat returned to his face, and the universe regained its balance. 

"You've got to stop teasing me," he sneakered, taking away his hand.

"Okay," you nodded. "Let's go on a date." 

He put a hand on his forehead, as if you were giving him a headache. "I said stop."

"Stop teasing. That's what I'm doing; I'm being direct," you explained, leaning closer to him. "Let's get coffee."

He looked at you for a few seconds, scanning your face for any hints of foolery. For once, you were being completely serious. He sighed.

"I'm free on Saturday," he said, looking at his drawers for something. After some shuffling, he took out a small magnet shaped like the head of a cat and handed it to you. "That's my favorite place."

"Café gatitos and cream," you read off the magnet. It took all of your strength not to laugh at how childish it looked. Instead, you nodded. "See you there at nine?"

He nodded back, avoiding your eyes. Without another word, he went back to work. You resolved to do the same.

Walking back to the school, you fidgeted with the magnet in your hand. You really couldn't wait. 

Thank you for reading ❤️

[staceymcgillicuddy]

#12. "Just do it."

Thank you for letting me indulge yet another one of my "fifty different ways they could have met that didn't involve anyone dying" daydreams. Mwah!

“Just do it,” Eddie says to his reflection in the cracked bathroom mirror. “Today. Today’s the fucking day, yeah? Just do it.” 

How can he do it, though, with a zit on his nose? Eddie doesn’t spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about his face or anything, but like… that dude’s a whopper. Red with a white center, and he should probably squeeze it, but if he does that, it might bleed, and he can’t decide if it’s better or worse to ask Chrissy Cunningham out with a zit or the bloody scab of where a zit used to be. 

Probably he should just pop it at home and wait until tomorrow. That’s the solid course of action. Besides, he has Hellfire after school, and if he asks her out today, he’ll be distracted, and the sheepies deserve his full and undivided attention.

Plus—plus!—he and Chrissy have been partnered up for a month on this stupid English project, and it’s due on Friday and today’s Wednesday, so if he asks her out and she says no, that’ll throw off the whole vibe of their presentation. Which, if he says so himself, is a pretty badass show. Funny what happens when you actually make an effort in school, even if it’s just to impress the pretty blonde who initially didn’t seem thrilled to be partnered with you but now laughs every time you make a dumb joke.

It’s a lot easier for Eddie to concentrate on a task when he knows Chrissy’s gonna smile and say something like, “Eddie, that’s so good!” or “I never would have thought of that!” when he’s done. 

“Friday,” he says to his reflection just as the door to the bathroom opens and some bespectacled freshman stumbles in, sees Eddie, and beats a hasty retreat. 

Yeah, that feels about right.

It’s his free period, and he was originally gonna meet Chrissy in the library to work on their poster, but she put a note in his locker this morning saying it was a lovely day and could they please work in the quad instead? 

She’s got the girliest handwriting, and he definitely sniffed the paper to see if it smelled like her perfume. 

(One time, she left her scrunchie on the table, and Eddie stole it while she was in the bathroom. It’s uh… seen some things. He’s a dick. But, whatever. She has eighty of them.) 

When he arrives, Chrissy’s already sitting at one of the four painted-green picnic tables that decorate the quad. Her hair’s in a ponytail, which he pulls to announce his arrival because he’s five and she’s cute, and he wants to shove her down a slide on the playground to tell her he likes her, or whatever.

Jesus Christ, life would be easier if she hadn’t dumped Jason Carver two weeks ago, thus opening herself up as an actual option rather than a fantasy. And, sure, Eddie gets that he’s not even remotely close to her league, but whatever. Even a first date would be more than he deserves.

Chrissy twists at the tug on her hair, and her mouth’s painted with his favorite shade of peachy-pink, lips twisting into a smile. “Hi, Eddie.” 

“Hey, sunshine. I finished those drawings.” 

“Oh, let me see!”

Their presentation is on A Tale of Two Cities, which Eddie actually read (because he really is determined to fucking graduate this time), and also sort of dug because there was a lot of war and intrigue. It’s not Asimov, but he can see the appeal. For the presentation, he and Chrissy are doing a poster depicting the major plot points, and when she found out he wasn’t the world’s worst artist, she asked him to draw and…

Yeah, he’s been making an effort. Not just because he wants to get in her pants, either, but because he likes her as, you know. A person. She’s kind of weird, and he likes how her brain works.

Sitting across from her, he tugs out some loose printer paper from the ream Wayne stole from the plant a year ago. Management would be furious, Eddie’s sure.

Fuck management. Every time he rips the edging off a fresh piece of paper, it makes him smile.

“Oh, wow, Eddie,” Chrissy says when she sees the final piece, which is Carton approaching the platform with the guillotine. “This is amazing.” 

“Ah, thanks,” he says. “It’s no big deal.”

“No, it’s perfect. And I lettered the quote.” That had been Chrissy’s job—picking out the appropriate sentences and hand-lettering them on paper she soaked in tea to make it look old. “Once we have them pasted on, we’re done.” 

“So… cool, yeah. Done.” 

Chrissy carefully places his final drawings in her folder and shrugs. “We don’t have to meet tomorrow, I guess.” 

Shit. Eddie leans forward, fingers digging into the edge of the table. “Uh. Oh. I guess not?” 

“Maybe just Friday, before we present?” 

“Totally.” 

“Cool. We'll kick butt, and then hang out Friday night.”

Eddie's brain stutters to a halt. "We're hanging out Friday night?"  

"Yes. You're taking me out to the movies."

[kiwi-tmntfan]

i stole paper from the printer. guess who's gonna

not be drawing because i need to focus on school

[mutatedangels-a]

@ruinedtendencies // jamie x astrid

"Oh. Shoot. You, uh..." he clears his throat, standing in the doorway, resembling a broken wack-a-mole machine at the arcade as he decides whether to confront them or not. "You weren't supposed to see that." But it's his fault, anyway—who the hell would leave a surprise gift out in the open, atop the only surface in the bedroom? Damn his habit of coming home and splaying things on his desk; it's bleeding into his vacation mindset, following him all the way to Upper Michigan.

What Astrid is looking at is a staple-bound little booklet. A pamphlet would actually be a better description, because the former gives him a bit too much credit. It's made out of printed-out white paper (that he stole from the teacher's lounge printer) folded in half, resembling a child's book report at school—but he promises he worked harder on it than it looks.

The cover of the booklet reads, in serif font: LIKE A STAR. And underneath those words are a smaller set of words that reads: POEMS BY JAMIE THOMPSON.

Once he musters up the courage, he walks towards Astrid, his hands in his pockets. Committing to the bit. "Yeah, that, uh... must've fallen outta my bag or something. But. It's a gift I've been working on, for you." Inside it are a small handful of poems dedicated to them. "I had plans to show it to you over dinner or something, but you can read it now, if you want." A small smile creeps up on the corner of his face. That initial nervousness is blossoming ever so slightly into excitement; he'd been working on the booklet forever and now, despite it all being an accident, they finally get to read it.

[robyn-runestone]

Thinking about this boy I used to be friends with in primary school. I’ll call him R.

R was new to the school. I introduced myself, showed him around the school, and we were friends right away.

He loved playing handball. He had a blue handball he always carried around with him that he named Hammy. Every day after school we would play handball together while we waited for our parents to pick us up.

He loved drawing as well. At lunch times we would take a bunch of paper from the library’s printer and draw a bunch of scenes together. I sort of stole his art style and I would continue drawing like he did for years to come.

I would come visit his house a lot. We would play with his awesome barbie dream house and barbie airplane. I don’t know why, but I distinctly remember the dream house having a kitchen with tiny little jars full of cookies.

We would also play with his dog whenever I came to visit. It was a Dalmatian. I fed it a little bit of cheese one time. We liked to play with R’s dog in his small-ish yard.

I remember being teased a lot by my classmates. They would constantly say that R and I were dating and in love and all that stuff. (If only I knew I was a lesbian back then.)

We didn’t let the teasing bother us, though. We didn’t let it affect our friendship either. We were good, good friends, and that was all that mattered to us.

Which is why it was so heartbreaking when R had to move away. For some bizarre reason, I never got the contact info for him or his parents. When he left, I neither saw nor heard from him ever again.

Even after all these years, even after I’ve graduated high school, I always find myself thinking about him, and I wonder if he ever thinks about me too. I realise that my life wouldn’t be the same if I had never met him.

A part of me hopes that he could somehow stumble across this post and recognise me. I just wanna know how he’s been doing lately and how he’s changed after all this time.

Unfortunately, the world is a big place, so it probably won’t be possible.

I’m just gonna say this: Thank you for being in my life, R, even if it was for a short while. I will never forget you.

[the-high-counselor]

This reminds me of a daycare that we called After School Club or ASC. It sounds very similar, but it was also a daycare during the summer.

For most of my childhood, the facility was held in a high ceiling gym building. They'd separate different areas for different types of play or other activities. There was a corner for art of any kind: they had all sorts of coloring utensils, colored papers and printer paper, tons of scissors, good old Elmer's glue, and I distinctly remember yarn!

There was an area to play house with tons of dress up clothes and jewelry. They had a little carpeted area for building blocks and plastic toys. They had board games that I don't really remember playing. I just remember the Pretty Princess game and how I'd wear the jewelry because I thought it was pretty.

There was also a big open park across the road that we went to almost everyday, and a sandbox outside the front door that had a water spout so we could have muddy days.

That place holds many memories. I met my first friend, my bestest friend in the whole world, @eternalevecho

We went swimming and bowling and skating. They held special events in the summer, like a giant ice cream sundae that I didn't eat (I didn't like ice cream at the time) and a food fight I didn't want to be in.

I remember this little figurine of Pegasus from Disney's Hercules that I loved and wanted to keep, but I never stole it.

I had a nemesis because I found that they had stolen something of mine from my cubbie that I had bought that day.

Now that I think about it, I think they might've had a mental disability.

But this place was my childhood until it wasn't. I don't really remember when the change was made. Maybe echo remembers?

Step right up for me asking stupid questions about your country!

In Denmark we have something called “skolefritidsordning” (more commonly shortened to SFO) which directly translate to “school free time arrangement” but would probably better translate as “after school arrangement” because it’s a place where school children are looked after once school ends but their parents aren’t home yet. It’s almost like a kindergarten for kids who are old enough to look after themselves most of the time but shouldn’t be home alone yet so it’s just a building with a few adults where the kids can read comics, buy cheap snacks and soft drinks, art and craft stuff is provided like paper and markers, or you can play sports outside in a fenced off area. My SFO also had animals like a couple of ponies, sheep, goats and rabbits that you could pet under the watchful eye of an adult but also a more dangerous area you wouldn’t find in a kindergarten where you could play around with tools and hammer nails in boards without an adult present or make a fire in a fire pit. It was pretty big because children from all the surrounding schools gathered there so you met children you’d otherwise never meet.

I’m curious how common a place like this is in other countries, or if you have something different. Here it’s part of a normal school offer like “You child will start school soon. Do you want to enroll them in the local SFO too?” It was a lifesaver for my parents because they worked late and I was often the last child to leave, sitting in the hallway with all my stuff packed and the adult employees waiting for my mom or dad with me.

[annthefool]

since i only have 3 oomfs from twt here (n I also assume they dont go on tumblr a bunch) ill just say some of the ideas for the art of the untitled logs I been keeping on my mind for a month now 🤧

.

art direction wise: itll be very focused on stippling for the 'pictures' taken by the camera, since pictures look fuzzy n crunchy if you look hard enough, which will be interesting to do with a pen I gotten recently, a pilot 0.38. but for the other ways to go by the art and how it'll be done will be somewhat different. the 'pictures' will be in these rectangular boxes to signify they they were taken by a camera (though not too strict on that aspect since i dont want it to be the same rectangle) but if I'm drawing a character talking from memory it'll be very gestural with simple indicators to what a thing is. a single pen stroke for the hair, n will just look very clean. but if it's of a fight scene then that's where things get interesting.

.

i will mainly use printer paper for the 'pictures' n other not very detailed or heavy handed works, but for a fight that needs that sort of reworking because of how I want it to look in the sketch, then the inks, and the (very very Very minimal) color placement will be more important. which i have more somewhat thicker paper I nabbed from school for another use but never got to. and regarding color, I've always been interested in the high contrast, inspired by pitch canker with the usage of reds black n white he does and haruko ichikawa, the mangaka of land of the lustrous. but how I'd intend to use high contrast is for something with a impact or the drama, shock of the sorts, with a whiteout pen for drawing very minimal detail. like if I want to emphasize the face or even the body, showcasing their strength or emotions while they're the black silhouette with the background being one solid color of white or red. but if i do want to draw all the pen strokes n detail then I'd wouldn't do the stippling, it'd be more reminiscent of BLAME! from tsutomu nihei, messy detail and most importantly: Cool as hell. it is the big inspiration for TUL anyway so why not go all out. i use crosshatching for my shading, so it may or may not work out? as crosshatching isnt very known to be Messy, moreso Perfect and Precise but ill manage.

.

back to the very minimal color usage I said I'd do: why so? well it may have something to do back to pitch canker again and another visual style that is very much so Cool. at least to me.. let's say I want to emphasize a character bleeding out, ill only do black and white as i actually dont have many pen colors besides the ones I Stole from school or i was given to by my parents, and also cuz BLAME! god damn it! ill use a blue pen, if you're wondering. or a character has a color code in mind, if they feel like a Phosphophyllite cyan then ill use that color to assign them with.

.

also. acrylic paint. that high contrast style I'd need to use a better paper for? yeah that's a big reason why, i only have blue Vermilion (because I'm DUMB and didnt realize it wasnt a good shade because walmart is SILLY) yellow black n white. obviously I need to make these drawings all in one thing so it wont be on a canvas. i described the idea I have for creating the one and only TUL book on twitter but I basically need the following: holepuncher, black n white paint, wire, scissors, ceral box, and the Prayer i have if i actually get far into making the untitled logs in the first place. itll be a book all compiled of the loose leaf, printer and slightly better papers all given 5 holes (I don't trust loose leaf with only 3) with maybe 130 pages. 100 pages isn't actually that much if you're making many different scenes in a span of 2 or 3 logs with 10+ drawings in there so, it'll be a moderately ok size for a handmade book made from paper and a ceral box with black paint on it.

.

that's the end of the more physical work needed for TUL, and my thought process really (i felt very rambly). thank you.

[nezclaw]

talking about art improvement in the groupchat, and younger me was a dumbass who NEVER DATED HER ART so i have NO IDEA how old any of this is aside from probably pre-college/flight rising

[biteghost]

What did your base your drawing style off of? Cause honestly i get a lot of Batman TAS vibes from it, which is a great vibe, btw!

Hi anon! Thanks for the message - you're right, there is a lot of Bruce Timm's art (and specifically his work on BTAS) in my art DNA. You can also find a lot of various anime/manga series in there, and if you go back far enough you'd see some other cartoons, too!

Now, I hope this doesn't come off as pedantic, but I wanna talk about how you asked this question. Don't worry, it wasn't rude or anything and I'm not trying to call you out specifically. Obviously I understand what you are asking, but I find phrasing it "what did you base your style off of" interesting.

I spoke with a couple of my peers about this, and we've all seen similar things throughout our various time on the internet - and it's getting more frequent. A lot of upcoming artists are looking for advice from professional and established artists online and approaching art and 'success' as a mathematical formula with a correct answer. A correct answer that professional artists aren't giving away - and honestly? How dare they.

(I think part of this is definitely at the fault of social media. Quantifying successful or 'good' art by how many followers, likes, shares, reblogs or retweets is... bad for brains. 'Number go up' doesn't really mean anything, and the sooner you start to ignore those numbers the easier it will be for you and your relationship with your own art.)

I did not 'base' my art or general drawing style off of anything. It was not a conscious decision I made. I didn't watch Batman: The Animated Series as a 13 year old and decided to copy the art style until I could draw the shapes in my sleep. What happened was the art moved me, it resonated with me, and I liked it so much I wanted to draw it. I made a lot of fanart for a cartoon that wasn't even airing on television anymore, and the fanart I made wasn't very good because I hadn't been drawing seriously for very long. My control wasn't good, my lines weren't confident, and my tools were limited (printer paper, black sharpies and colored pencils all the way, baby!) But I didn't care because I loved those characters, I loved that world, and I wanted to express that love and appreciation - even if myself and a few close friends were the only ones who would ever see it.

To be perfectly honest, the art style I tried to replicate as a child (before BTAS, even) was CLAMP's work Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle. My oldest sister introduced me to manga when I was 11/12 years old, and I thought the art was so beautiful. I'd never seen anything like it before - the stark black and white, the use of negative space, the VERY BEAUTIFUL characters which stole my heart and captured my imagination (Kurogane, mi amor 💕)... I tried to copy the work I saw in the manga (my volumes are very well-loved from carrying them around school in my backpack), but I hadn't tried consciously to copy what I was looking at before. I hadn't tried drawing seriously before that point. I had never cared that much about something that it made me want to create something of my own, too. But I didn't have the knowledge that CLAMP did. I didn't have the years of inking experience to understand why they did each stroke, and where they allowed their figures to be implied. So try as I might, I never got the style down because I simply did not have enough experience with drawing. Instead, it's how I got comfortable with holding a pencil and drawing with it. It gave me more confidence in myself. I think that's why when I got obsessed with BTAS a short while later, I had a much easier time making bad fanart for it. The style was simpler, and I had gotten a lot of my bad drawings out trying to make fanart for Tsubasa first, haha!

Art style is something that is not real - or not real enough that it should be something you are worried about as a young artist. If you find your 'art style' changes a lot that just means you're learning at a quick rate. It means you are taking in and applying a lot of different things that you see into your own work. That's a good thing! As you continue your artistic journey and gain more experience, your internal library of resources will continue to grow. You will develop the ability to purposefully wield those influences and styles. You will be able to look at art and dissect what you like about it and then apply it into your own work with intent and confidence. You will experiment with this, and you will hone your other skills at the same time. Line work, confident brush strokes, proportions, rendering, color theory, lighting, perspective, depth, confidence in your tools (digital or traditional - or both!) - all of this will be worked on as you experiment, as you learn, as you practice and as you continue to chase your self-expression.

I think when professional artists give the advice of "draw every day" or "keep practicing", younger artists might feel that it's not good advice. It might be a let-down, because they're looking for the mathematical formula to become successful and to get recognition quickly. But art is a skill, like anything else. It takes time to learn, to grow comfortable in, and it's something you never finish learning!!

You have to keep in mind that older artists might have been drawing since before you were born - they have years and years and years of experience. Like, I've been drawing since about 2005, which was 16 years ago! And I get teenagers asking me things like this, and it's like, buddy I've been drawing since before you were alive. I have your entire lifetime over you in terms of experience. It doesn't mean I'm better than you, but there is just a literal gap in terms of time spent experimenting, failing, and learning that you haven't gotten to do yet.

You see an artist's current work, and you have to remember that this is their CURRENT skill level that has been attained after a lifetime of working on their craft. Every piece you make is a stepping stone in your journey, and THAT is why you should draw every day. You should draw what you love. You should draw what interests you. And if you're unsatisfied or feel you can't do justice to the things you're trying to depict - focus on that skill and practice it until you're happy with it.

OC's not as sexy as you think they could be? Go practice anatomy. Read some books, study how the body works and bends. Want to make your comics more dynamic? Go read some comics you think are dynamic or cool and study their layouts, study their framing and posing. Want to make smoother animations, want to try painting backgrounds and sweeping vistas, want to up your coloring game? You gotta go seek out the materials to help you learn. You gotta be willing to read and study in order to hone your craft into what you know it can be!

Your art style is a combination of all your experiments, influences and practice. It's your struggle, it's your joy, it's your triumphs and it's your failures. The things that you like and that bring you joy combine in you to make your unique artistic voice. Don't worry so much about style. Consistency doesn't matter in art. Don't worry so much about how other people got to where they are today. You don't need to be them to be great. Just keep drawing.

[mistysblueboxstuff]

nobody is keeping anyone away from learning how to make art????? you need barely any money to start learning how to????? if you have money for internet and a computer to use AI generators you have money for a pencil and some paper????

i started learning with the cheap pencils from AliExpress and printer paper xD and got some cheapo drawing tablet later and used it until it broke two years later xD by then i started making enough money off my art to be able to afford a new better tablet. most artists aren't ~elite~ and quite frankly i am offended this dude is trying to make people believe they are. this guy is the elite though, he's the rich kid who was probably jealous of the that one kid in elementary school who could draw and that's something you can't really buy so he decided to instead use his money to destroy all artists and replace them with computers using the art that he STOLE from those very same artists.

and now he's comparing that to bringing literacy to the lower classes. wtf???

also "anti American"???? cos the whole world is just USA right??? fuck America and fuck billionaires, they're everything that's wrong with this world

it was never a tool fam

[cynergy-laughter]

Obey Me! One Master to Rule Them All! Headcanon #9

So I have this idea of a scenario: Everything that went wrong went wrong yesterday, with time running out, and there was so much to do before going to bed, you had to scramble and multitask getting projects and assignments redone before realizing it’s the weekend. And ALL the brothers had a hand in your grinding day. So a sleep-deprived MC, with an attitude that can be described as, “I would literally fight God for an ounce of serotonin and a blissful hour of sleep.” goes to breakfast with the boys and they just snap, and starts roasting all of them and calling out their roles in his grinding day.

Lucifer: MC, so glad you could join us for breakfast.

MC: Don’t start with me, Lucifer, I had a very rough night...

Lucifer: You should watch your tone, MC, just cause it’s the weekend doesn’t mean I won’t punish you for stepping out of line.

MC: *record scratch plays in their head and turns head* Me? Stepping out of line? You have some nerve.

Satan: *eyes widen, a bit concerned for you talking back at Lucifer* Umm, MC, as entertaining as this is, are you okay?

MC: *looks at Satan, dark circles intensifying* No Satan... I’m not okay... After school yesterday I only had one assignment to do, and it turned into 5 assignments in the span of last night...

Mammon: *walks in* Good morning, what’s for eats?

MC: *head turns toward Mammon and points at him* You...

Mammon: W-What? What do you want human?

MC: You know perfectly what what I want, you dollar store mink stole.

Asmo: *nearly spit out his drink*

MC: You thought it would be fun to bring 6 ferrets into my room without my permission... do you know what they did?

Lucifer: He did what now?

Mammon: *kind of hurt from being called a cheap mink stole* what, did they eat your homework?

MC: I mean ferrets will find an interest to play with anything, my three completed assignments could attest to that if they weren’t torn apart and left around my room like a crime scene.

Mammon: There was no other place I could put them, I’m watching them for a friend, they would have torn up my room. You should have closed your door.

MC: I did, and you still opened the door, put them in my room, and they went for my homework. I hope you’re happy for kicking off last night’s chain of events for me you dime store student loan.

Mammon: *taken aback and sat down, and just stares into his breakfast*

Levi: *chuckles* Omg, you just got told! Lolololol!

MC: *turns to Levi* Don’t think you’re innocent, Leviathan, you overripe bananaconda!

Levi: W-What?! How dare you, who do you think you are, normie?! *stands up, and is scared when you get up after him.*

MC: Who do I thi- WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! Printing out an 1000 page fanfiction of TSL, on MY LAPTOP?! You used up all the dang paper, and I had to go to the store and get more printer paper, and I couldn’t start redoing my assignments until you were finished on MY LAPTOP. Do yourself a favor Lord of Weebs, and make your next Akuzon order a personal printer.

Levi: *eyes widened, sits back down shying away from confrontation*

Beel: *eating, enjoying the roast session going on*

MC: *looks at Satan* And you, you decided to put my source material on your reading list for the night. You took the books I was planning on referencing for my paper to your room.

Satan: *shrugs* You should have planned better beforehand, it’s not my fault you were having a bad day.

MC: Au contrair you blond Severus Snape knock-off. Because a demonic food processor decided to drink my potion project that I had finished brewing and had it chilling in the fridge overnight, which was clearly labeled, “Beel, do not drink my potion, signed ~MC”! *looking at Beel as he shouted the last part*

Beel: *stopped mid bite, and looked down in shame*

MC: ...And ate my favorite snacks that would have kept positive motivation in me throughout the night, but I digress. I couldn’t find the potion recipe I wrote down either, turns out I stuck it in one of potion books I also had in my room. So I had to look through the library just to find the book because you put it in a place I couldn’t get to without going out to the garden and getting a ladder, which was awkward to bring in by the way. So thanks Marian the Librarian for doing a job that literally no one asked you to do.

Satan: *blushing mad, but stayed silent*

Asmo: *giggles* Aww you guys are getting chewed out, by MC!

MC: Asmo... you intrusive thot, do not think for one second you’re safe. I had to go shopping for the potion ingredients and printer paper, so I enlisted in your help, but instead of getting the ingredients I had to reign you in because you kept on getting stuff in the cosmetics department.

Asmo: I had a date that night, I had to look good!

MC: And trying to sneak them into my transaction so now I don’t have any money to buy food to make for dinner tonight. So thank you from the bottom of my generous heart, you wannabe James Charles.

Asmo: *eyes widen and he “clutches his pearls”*

Belphie: *looks at everyone, trying not to laugh*

MC: Belphie, I appreciate that you kept on trying to calm me down through all of this, but you fell asleep in the middle of me doing my work, and I would have let it slide, if you didn’t sleep on my paper’s outline. So there’s your contribution, you horse jockey cosplayer.

Belphie: *bit his lip and looked away*

MC: And that leaves you, Lucifer. You decided to make dinner last night.

Lucifer: Yes, and you told me yourself that it was delicious.

MC: Delicious and spicy... and everyone here knows what happens when spicy and me combine...

Lucifer: *was kind of sweating* Umm... in my defense... my definition of spicy would kill you, I made that pretty mild...

MC: Yes, but your mild gave me four hours... FOUR HOURS... that’s how long I was on the toilet for. I asked the group chat on my D.D.D. to get me my devildom history textbook so I could at least redo that assignment, Belphie wasn’t responding because he was asleep, Mammon, Asmo, and Beel were gone, Levi was live-streaming and turned his phone off, Satan was doing research and apparently put it on silent, and you were doing paper work, so I wasted 4 hours of my time trying to keep hydrated while I blew Mt. Vesuvius. Shut up Asmo. So thank you, Maleficient’s edgy teenage son, you single handedly gave me the most stress last night. I hope it was worth the punishment comment.

Lucifer: *eyes widened, shocked*

MC: And you know what the icing on the cake was? I realized at 7 in the morning, when I had finished everything, that everything was due on Monday and it was the weekend... I stressed for nothing while everything that went wrong went wrong... So this is my fault as well. Now, if you will all excuse me, I am going to be sleeping for the whole weekend, and I’ll be back to my old self on Monday. And if anyone thinks about disturbing me... just remember I have a pact with Every. Single. One of you. You will join me if you like it or not... I’ll send for my meals, I can’t make dinner tonight, and I’m taking this to my room. *takes breakfast* Now good day...

Mammon: MC we’re sor-

MC: I SAID GOOD DAY! *storms off into his room*

[jaedreaminn]

I'll wait for you to like me

Pairings: Mark x Reader «past» Jeno x reader.

Characters: Mark, Jeno, Donghyuck (Haechan), Ten «hinted» Jisung, Chenle, Jaemin.

Theme: fluff, confusion, angst(but not really), open ending, happy, playful.

Word count: 1.6k

~~~

Mark knew he was the wallflower among his brothers. While his brothers played with people's hearts he studied. While his brothers fooled around he worked hard. While his brothers stole people's hearts to only break them he broke hearts through rejections.

He never messed around, always had good grades and his only friend was his half brother Donghyuck but not by choice, the youger just latched himself onto Mark the first time Mark spoke.

Mark liked his reputation of the heartless and cold brother. He liked being the most mysterious among his brothers. He liked keeping to himself. He liked his personal space. He looed music. He like how he was very sure of what he liked. And he knew for sure that he liked you.

But you liked Jeno....

So he kept his distance and watched from the side lines. He watched how Jeno tried to gain your trust and felt a pang in his heart when you trusted the boy. He watched how you agreed to dating Jeno and he watched how you slowly fell in love with his brother. His gut twisting in longing and jealousy.

He watched sadly the day Jeno broke your heart. And never in his life did he want to punch someone so bad, let alone the person he wanted to punch being his own brother but yet he didn't because he watched how Jeno loved you back but the moment things got a bit to real for his liking he spiralled and hurt you in the process.

He watched how Jeno would look at you so fondly and after you broke up he would secretly stare at you longingly when no one was watching. How he would constantly deny his feelings for you because his friends thought that it was uncool. How he said awful things about you to his awful friends that led him astray. He hated that he had to watch Jeno lose himself.

...

"You're the only other person here?" You had startled him one day as you leaned over his desk in the news room.

He blinked once to make sure he wasn't hallucinating before nodding, "Yes I run the school news paper"

You tilted you head to the side face scrunching cutely in confusion.

"I get the work done and quite perfectly at that so the school allows me to run it alone." Mark explained and felt lighthead when you smiled at him.

"Why are you here" he blurted out coldly before you could notice the change in his face from how much blood was travelling to it.

"Well I'm going to run the newspaper with you." You casually said. Cultural shock. That's what he went through that day.

And so before he knew it, it became a new norm to spend his afternoons with you in that small cramped up room with two desks and a printer.

And for once he wasn't just watching you, he was talking to you, laughing with you, working with you and getting into petty arguments with you which would just end with Mark being all red and flustered and you giggling away. And suddenly he knew he liked you even more. And maybe he wasn't the only one that knew that little fact. And that was a problem.

It happened on one of the monthly Sunday morning family breakfasts when Mr.Lee kept picking at Tens choice for the next step in the family business which included his lover so Ten, much to Mark's dismay changed the topic, "So Mark I heard you've been having fun at school these days?" His second eldest brother teased, wiggling his brows.

Mr. Lee's cocked an eyebrow at that piece of information but Mark simply hummed and got back to eating, enjoying his peace.

But when your brother's with Lee Donhyuck peace didn't come easy.

"Oh yes he has" the boy said and Mark looked at him confused, "He's been enjoying his time with y/n working for the school newspaper together"

Mark cursed in his head, side eyeing Jeno who seemed to freeze at your name expression cold.

"Yes it's nice to have company" Mark mumbled as the topic changed yet again to something about the trouble Haechans been causing.

...

Mark watched how Jeno distanced himself from him and how his brother who was usually sweet eye smiles and mischievous laughs was now curt nodds and cold eyes.

The one thing he knew he hated was fighting with his brothers. And even though him and Jeno weren't really fighting they weren't talking to eachother either.

His mood changed drastically, sullen at the change in attitude from his younger brother but he doubts anybody would have noticed.

That's why he was shocked when you placed a cup of boba milk tea on his desk saying "because you were sad and needed cheering up" before scrunching your nose cutely and adding "and because you're the only weirdo that doesn't like coffee"

And he looked at you in awe, mouth sliglty agape and you chuckled leaning down and closing it for him as he startled at the contact recalling behind a bit.

"So Markie boy what's got you so worried" you asked sitting yourself down on his desk as he flushed over the nickname.

"My brother" he said hesitantly and saw your face harden, he knew you knew of his relation to your ex but you guys never spoke about it.

"What happened" you still asked him, expression neutral.

"Just a little confusing times between us so there's a cold war going on" he said with a defeated sigh and your lips curved downwards.

"I've see how close you are to your brothers' and how much you care for them" you said and Mark was surprised you knew that, "Whatever it is it's going to pass. After all you guys are the infamous Lee brother's. A family of old money where the brothers dont hate eachother" you joked without knowing how true and rare that was and how much he cherished that fact. Especially since all his father wanted them to do was to get 'ambitious' and steal the buisness back from Ten.

So Mark had decided that very day to confront Jeno after school, waiting patiently at his brothers car.

"You're here to talk I'm guessing?" Jeno voice called out and Mark turned around to see him walking towards the car with a friend's Mark didn't recognise, a really tall boy with pink hair, a short one with orange hair and one Jenos height with blond hair and a blue fringe.

Jeno waved goodbye to the boys as he seperated ways from them and approached Mark.

"Who are they?" Mark couldn't help but ask.

"They're from the dance team." Jeno replied not looking at his brother at all.

"You've been avoiding me" Mark accused angry that the boy coildnt even look at him now and Jeno nodded, "You're right"

"Why" Mark asked with a frown.

"Well..."

"It's because of y/n isn't it?" Mark cut Jeno off, "If your uncomfortable with me working on the newspaper with y/n then I can-"

"Can what?" Jeno laughed catching Mark off guard, "Can quit? And then what let the newspaper die with you? I actually enjoy reading those." Jeno smiled at Mark who just stood there dumbfounded.

"Look I was being petty, I broke up with y/n ages ago. If you have feelings for y/n then go for it, I shouldn't hold you back" Jeno said with a sad smile.

"But don't you like..."

"I do. But I was dumb and now I'm too late so go shoot your shot" Jeno said with a pat on Marks back and smiled sadly as he watched his brother run off to meet you. Maybe he'll get over you if dating you makes his quite and overworking brother happy and atleast a little carefree.

"Y/N!" Mark called out as he ran towards you, starteling you.

"Go out with me" he blurted as soon as he was infront of you and your eyes widened but a frown made its way to your face soon after.

"Is this some joke?" You asked angrily and Mark seemed genuinely confused.

"Look I thought you were nice but now you're trying to pull the same stunt Jeno did?" You yelled and Mark looked taken back.

"W-what no. I would never!" he replied immediately.

"I want to believe that's true but it probably isn't" you said as your eyes slowly started to glisten. "Is this funny to you Mark?"

"What? No! No y/n I really like you, have liked you way before Jeno did I swear this isn't a game" he said quickly, holding onto your hand in hopes of conveying his sincerity. But it only made you more doubtful.

"Even if it was true Mark I d-dont want to like anyone again for a while" you said tone sad and Mark felt bad, maybe he didn't think this through.

"I'll wait then" it was your turn to look confused

"Then I'll wait for you to be ready to like someone again."

You sighed but the gesture seemed so sweet and from what you knew from the little time you spent with him in that small room daily was that Mark wasn't a good liar, "It may take a long while and I might not even end up liking you. You think you're okay with that?"

Mark eyes sparkled with something unreadable but it was definitely something good. He nodded his head, determined, "No matter how long and with how little hope I have, I'll wait for you to like me."

~~~

Lee brother's- A mini series

Previous part: Lee Taeyong

Next part: Ten Lee

[canyouhearthelight]

Because we still need to see systemic change in how the United States handles race, I want to share a story.

When my older brother was 14, he and his best friend were caught shoplifting a magazine.  It is necessary to state that I grew up in an extremely predominantly black town, neighborhood, and school district.  My graduating class was 6% non-black.

It is also necessary to state that my brother is 60% Irish and whiter than printer paper. His best friend (at the time) was even whiter. This is very important to the story.

Both of them were detained until their mothers could pick them up, and then they were remaindered to that custody. No fines, no citations, not even community service.  They were never even officially arrested, just held in handcuffs to scare them a bit.

Maximum penalty for shoplifting in the state of Arkansas is 1 year in prison or $2500 fine. Neither of these paper-white boys so much as saw a court date.  Somehow, in a city that - even today - is 75% black, in a school district that was 94% black at the time, BOTH of them benefited from their privilege

The average age of my high school graduating class was 20, because so many young men and women had been issued 1 year sentences in juvvie, for shoplifting food. For ‘gang violence’ (just teenagers fighting, really). For defending themselves against sexual assault.

And people want to tell me All Lives Matter?  That the people I grew up with, went to school with, whose families fed mine when we had nothing, but lost a year of their lives for being hungry, being a teenager, or being brave enough to fight back against assault, matter equally with my brother and his friend who got to go home after stealing a nudie magazine?  That’s how “all lives matter” to y’all??

A black woman I grew up with from the age of eight years old threatened - did not stab, just threatened - her would-be rapist with a knife when she was 14. And she served six months. The victim served a longer sentence than the perpetrator. But my white-ass brother and his best friend stole a Playboy, and went home that same night without actually being charged. But “all lives matter”?

I am not saying that my brother should have served time.  I am saying that most of my classmates should not have, either.  But they did. And they were all black. Every. Last. One. Of. Them.

And that’s fucked up. Caught shoplifting? They should have gotten the same ‘sentence’ my brother and his friend received: tell your mom, send you home.  Shoplifting is shoplifting - if a white boy with a ‘promising future’ (my brother did not, it turns out, have a promising future) gets a scare, call your guardian, and go home with a stern warning and a severe scolding, then a black boy deserves the exact same sentence.

Until that happens, miss me with that ‘All Lives’ garbage.  I want black people to be treated on a level with ME. Walking in a store without people watching you. Not getting your resume chucked in File 13 when they read your name.  Being called “passionate” instead of “angry”.  Getting a speeding ticket without fearing for your life. Walking home drunk because you know not to drive in that state, and the police offer you a ride instead of shooting you. 

(Six times. I have done this SIX TIMES, and never even got cited or arrested. Walked right up to the first cop I saw and said I was drunk, wasn’t safe to drive, could they give me a lift home, and they did. Even wrote down the location of my vehicle so I could get it in the morning 3 out of 6 times. Black people should be able to take advantage of this).

On the day when we finally wipe systemic racism from this country, you can have your parties and blow the loudest horn you can find, and say “All Lives Matter”, because they finally will. On that day, but not before. Not one day, one minute before that happens, can we say “All Lives Matter”.

[acaseforpencils]

Navied Mahdavian.

Bio: I am Miami-born (my apologies in advance), streets of hard knocks-schooled (well, suburbs outside San Francisco), currently living in Salt Lake City by way of rural Idaho, with my eyes firmly set on NYC, if only to avoid people's surprise that I don't, in fact, already live in NYC. I've been a cartoonist for The New Yorker since February 2018. My work has also appeared in Wired, Alta Online, Private Eye, Reader's Digest and wherever else I can convince to publish my cartoons. I'm currently writing my debut graphic novel entitled, This Country, about my three years in middle-of-nowhere Idaho (details/news forthcoming!). Before becoming a cartoonist, I taught the 5th grade, where I learned most of my jokes.

Find this print here! Tools of Choice: I'm what you might call a tools-of-the-trade-idiot. When other cartoonists talk shop about what they use, I usually just nod my head and think about important things like why the word "vacuum" has two u's in it. I do, however, have a tool box of trusty tools I have learned to use over the past few years. I draw with a Pentel P205 .5mm mechanical pencil. When I first started out, I used pencils with letters like H and B in their titles, but I could never get the fine lines I was looking for (and plus, I had to sharpen them, which is a whole thing). For inking lines, I typically use Microns. For a while, I exclusively used the .005 but as my confidence in my drawing has increased, so has the size of my pen tips. In order to get dynamic line variation, I sometimes press down harder than I should, which destroys my poor microns. For washes, I use Bombay Black India ink diluted in water and Winsor and Newton brushes. For a long time, I just used the size 1 brush (you can see a pattern here), but now I use the size 3 (*gasp*). I recently discovered a W&N round 1 brush which has completely changed my ink washes. It allows me to do really delicate and tiny ink washes.

My desk after the Tuesday submission deadline

Tools I wish I could use better: Everything that I currently don't know how to use or even know exists (to misquote Donald Rumsfield, "There are known unknown drawing tools.")! Things I know exist and hear about all the time but have no idea how to use are: non-photo blue pencil, Procreate, watercolor, oil paint, nib pens, brush pens, correction pens, and those gel pens the girls were into when I was in middle school.

Also what is a slide rule?

Tools I wish existed: A pen that could draw correct perspective on its own. Having never studied drawing formally, I sometimes struggle with perspective. In a review of my dancing robots cartoon, the now defunct website Cartoon Companion said the composition and perspective were "contrived" (they also said my first cartoon was "D.O.A." but who remembers these things?).

Tricks: I draw directly onto the finish paper I use (I use Arches 140lb Hot Press paper). I used to draw rough drafts on printer paper and then trace it for my finishes, but I read an interview with Carolita Johnson where she said that she chucked this stage at some point which made the whole process so much faster. I also shamelessly reuse elements from my old rejected cartoons. I have an Artograph LightTracer light box and constantly trace my old cartoons (it works great, but it's chunky and looks like a children's toy. Point of fact, I actually stole it from my old classroom).

Misc: I balance drawing cartoons that I think the New Yorker would go for with cartoons that I know they would never buy. Which isn't to say that I don't submit those cartoons to them, because I definitely do, but it means I have drawn (and submitted) way too many cartoons with animals in bed (my apologies to Emma Allen). Part of me hopes they'll buy one (they won't), but they make me laugh.

Website, etc:

Instagram

Website

Prints