#procrastinating on art like a boss

[z-h-i-e]

More ornaments than you can shake an aluminum pole at

It may have been around 10:30am while I was in a very important meeting on Friday that it hit me that Christmas Eve was Saturday and that I had to have all my shit together for family gathering in just over 48 hours from that point.

And about 10:35am when I realized I had no shit together what-so-ever.

I then thought, I'll go out early to shop for food needed for the other side of the family gathering on Christmas Day, and that should take like an hour, and then I'll have ample time for drying.

And my expected single trip to one grocery store for an hour ended up becoming EIGHT - yes EIGHT - fucking stores over the course of FIVE HOURS. I do not recall giving permission for anyone else to be out there doing this at that time today, but I blame Smaug, because he decided to say the following when we were five blocks from our house and I was making a left turn: "At least it doesn't seem too busy on the road."

That's because all those motherfuckers were already AT the damn store.

God bless the woman who had to fix my self-checkout register 14 times at store #3. Even on the fourteenth time, she still cheerfully said 'Have a nice day now!' which was exactly what she did the previous 13 times. Yes, I counted the number of times the register flipped out on me.

And since it's the holiday season, I won't say what I want to say about the woman who decided to blatantly side cut into the line for the self-checkouts in front of me, and obviously knew what she was doing because she had to keep her cart awkwardly sideways in the line. But kudos to the individual in the store also rocking a black leather trench (most comfortable coat ever, for the record), for the facial expressions and reaction they had from their lane a few feet away mirrored exactly what I was thinking. I feel like we had some unspoken outerwear solidarity going on.

So I now have about three dozen custom ornaments drying in trays around this room. Allegedly, they are supposed to take 24 hours to dry. Sometimes they dry faster.

It's 13 hours to go time. Hoping for an overnight Festivus miracle.

I need these...

To start looking like this...

Fun fact: I watch a lot of Project Runway while I work on art last minute like this so that I can keep hearing Tim Gunn say 'Make it work' in the background as motivation.

Happy Festivus!

[grubbin22]

character reference sheets for my fic smooth operator.

[yeahiguess3232]

vaycay teens, vaycay teens, vaycay teens!

Previous Polaroid Next Polaroid

Should I attempt a Dood design and have them be in the next polaroid? I'm scared of doing their design tho

[maulfucker]

forcing myself to leave these doodles unpolished was hard. forcing myself to leave the colors unpolished was even harder

[windor-truffle]

Asbel if Lambda got to pick his style (i continue to be very normal about them👍)

concept sketches under the cut:

[kakusu-shipping]

Sorry if this is a weird idea but it has suddenly entered my brain and I MUST tell you jfnckshcks

You should let Koro-sensei meet Jelly!Emile!! He’s yellow with a round head and lots of arms,, you’re yellow with a round head and lots of arms,, There’s uh, not that much else to it, it just sounds funny to me hdbcjdbsjn

Fun fact: Koro-Sensei is ALSO a selfshipper, he also has self inserts in a lot of the media we consume together, so if I have an S/I for a media you can pretty safely assume Koro-Sensei has one too, including Splatoon!! (and actually I've posted a funny half joke doodle version of it before.)

Anyway, I think if our S/Is met it'd probably be very brief. Something like this?

I could also see him popping into Jelfonzo's shop every once in a while in disguise. Egg wouldn't recognize him until a few days later though. They probably wouldn't see eachother much at all after Egg moves to the Splatlands.

[immagrosscandy]

oh shit i haven't been posting art in a while 😅

[rune-of-delta-au]

I need to stop procrastinating and finally post Splatton

He replaces Spamton, he mostly gets called Splat for short. He's the one dude who's mega egocentric, ever since he became crazy, he wants to become the boss of everyone, to be in control of everything. And of course, he wants to sell his junk art.

Instead of a phone, he has used a mirror to "communicate", with the dude or saw him who like with Spamton, made him crazy.

His theme song coming soon maybe idk I just need to draw smth for it since it's done

Also this drawing is smth I drew in class that I colored on my phone when I was borred (the peak investissement I put in the au is this lol)

[sunnylolli]

How many au's do you got? and what's their names

Oh sweet mother, that's like counting grains of sand at the beach at this point-

I'll handpick from what I've posted and then add two or three more:

1. "Can I stay for a year or two?"/CISFAYOT- Alfred's Mentally Ill and goes to stay with Arthur to unwind so he can get back to work ASAP. Just to be jumpsacared by Arthur having gotten therapy and who is now enforcing obligatory therapy on Alfred which absolutely works. He has a stern dad-to-president talking to with Alfred's boss after christmas and has him put on paid sick leave so he can start actually getting better.

2. Lighthouse au - Arthur's a lighthouse keeper, Francis is a myserious specter of the sea that lures him in

3. Time Travel au - Alfred forgets to mind his business when out for a walk in the English Woodlands and ends up stepping through a fairy-circle-esque circle of branches and trees and is teleported back to early middle age England to meet England when he was 200 years old.

4. Domestic FACE au/Domestic au: A modern day, human au centered around the FACE-family, but where I've branched into including the nordics for self-indulgence. There's not really any plot, it's just a slice-of-life/Buying groceries kind of au :,)

5. Pirate au: (They are countries in this) Arthur's a pirate on the run from the English Crown, Alfred's a wee lad that hides in a crate of oranges and sneaks onto Arthur's ship. Arthur recognizes that he's a nation, thus let's him stay at the price of menial labor. It's an au where Arthur weren't there to discover Alfred in the 17th century and were held prisoner i England until he broke free and went to sea. Meanwhile Alfred's been growing up with his people around the east-coast but wants to explore and do more things, feeling like he's meant for more, so he finds a ship and sneaks on.

Gonna make a read more so this doesn't go rogue on the dash:

Here are the ones I haven't posted about because there's not really any art of it:

5. Medieval comedy sketch: In which we follow Arthur (Nation) through his very eventful life in the 15th century as a personal guard to an excessively annoying prince. The prince eventually grows on him and Arthur's ready to lay down his life several times for him, but turns out so is the prince. I started it initially as a full-on comedy sitcom (think Monty Python), but it became a comedy melodrama in the end.

I'm not mad about it though, one of the more lighthearted and fun au's to write - It's honestly my favorite one.

6. Big, little empire: This is prime example of biting off more than you can chew for me. This au is also medieval, but much much earlier- It's set in around year 1000, during the reign of King Cnut the Great and is about Arthur's and Asger's (Mathias, once he's properly christened) relations, personal and political. My plan for it was to explore Arthur as starting out watching empires and becoming one himself - Though with the constant nagging at the back of his head that he is not meant for greatness and the doubt is what consumes him in the end.

7. Race you to the end: Yet another prime example of too much plot for a skilled procrastinator who gets easily overwhelmed with details. This au is genuinely one of the saddest, most heartwrenching au's I have ever had, and I have MANY.

The au is nationverse and is about Gilbert and Ludwig maneuvering Gilbert's bucketlist once it becomes apparent that Gilbert is terminal. The title itself makes me want to cry, because it refers to the first scene where they're at the beach; Gilbert insists they race to see who reaches a group of seagulls first and ends up winning by tripping up Ludwig. I know it's a spoiler, but Gilbert does die at the end and Ludwig goes back to the beach from the beginning and chases a pack of gulls by himself.

8. Portrait of the modern nuclear family/Family unit: Tw for talk of drug and substance abuse for this one, lads.

This au is about FACE, but unlike my other FACE au's, it's dysfunctional. MAJORLY dysfunctional. Alfred is caught up with meth/cocaine and juggles a failing career on the side that leaves him to take up loans to fund his addiction. Matthew's caught up with weed and alcohol, though he's managing to seek help and make an attempt to get better, because he does not want to end up like Arthur and Francis. Francis is a bonnafide wine-alcoholic ("but it's wine, so it doesn't count!") and Arthur's "just" an alcoholic who has too much to say and too much work for his own good to maintain.

Together they make the perfect cocktail for family get together's like birthdays, holidays and whatnot, because all four of them together always ends up ruining the occasion. But they all want to pretend they're normal, so they keep doing it. Over and over again. (Nationverse)

9. Alfred gets lost in the Canadian winter wilderness au: Exactly as the title says, Alfred's on his way up to visit Matthew over the holidays just to get caught in a blizzard. He sees something in the middle of the road, swerves and crashes. It's just about Alfred wandering through the thick of it surviving and encountering ✨folklore creatures✨. It's a bit of a mystique, a bit of a horror au.

10. Haunted house au: Alfred forces Arthur to come along with him on several trips to American and European haunted or abandoned houses for the thrill of it. They end up in an actually haunted one in the US and things go south very fast. A very cliché horror, but one that I also enjoy writing immensely.

I am ending it here, but know that I do have more 🪩💃

[randomsloredrops]

Random's Filler Drops - The Canonfell Bros

Well, it's time to make filler drops so i can procrastinate on Alpher longer. as you can tell by the name, today...

that's right, canonfell bros. (art made by THE Fella (underfell creator)) Now let me just find the part to add a read more... where is it? let me just find it... and...

. . there we go, read more. Anyways, time to hear my annoying yapping (i got my phd in yapanese instead of english) You see, the fanon interpretations of the fell bros is... disgusting, to say the least. Mainly because of how they assume Fell makes the guys literally ready to kill each other (when canonfell Sans can quite literally WIPE the floor with papyrus, asgore, and undyne when he's pissed off) and also makes the relationship between papyrus and sans... not the greatest. But, canonfell, canonfell, yes, canonfell i forgot i was yapping about that. anyways, cnaonfell (post-edit: i misspelled it but it's funny, so i wont change it) does NOT do that, instead making the brothers just more distant from eachother, considering Papyrus is in the Royal Guard in UF. The canonfell bros are definitely better than the fanonfell bros, seeing as Papyrus and Sans have each others backs, surprisingly. The distance between the brothers is caused specifically by Sans, due to Sand making excuses to not accept help from Papayas. According to the Underfell tumblr (Fella themselves), the relationship is:

Sans to papyrus would be : big brother who feels responsible AND guilty about the outcome of both their lives . He feels useless and can’t bare that he can’t be the one to protect his little brother anymore because he feels like Papyrus doesn’t want him to. Nonetheless he remains distant, but close enough to be there when Papyrus is in serious danger.

Papyrus to sans would be: little brother who became strong enough to be on his own, and somewhat match his older brother. He managed to become who he wanted to be and feels he’s capable of protecting his older brother. He has his own responsibilities to do, so he is often distant from Sans, but still close enough to be there when he’s in serious danger. (that's from the UF tumblr, one of the asks about papayas and sands) Sans also always refers to Papyrus as any sort of word similar to boss, like "jefe", "head honcho", "boss" (ofc), "chief", "commander" (not confirmed), basically anything that means boss. Papyrus also knows NOT to fuck with Sans unless safe to do so, like when Sans is fucking with him, and YES, Papyrus DOES toss Sans across the fucking earth when that happens. Papyrus is also (from my assumption), somewhat protective of Sans, just a little bit, based on a comic of Sans and the chain collar. Time to yap about the comic (sorry). The comic has Papyrus thinking of a plan to restrain Frisk as they travel, while Sans makes a stupid idea. Papyrus finds leash, asks if it belongs to Sans, and Sans says yes. Papyrus says (just assumption on the anger-filled part cause some of it's cut off by papyrus' body and the borders) "OH MY DEAR BROTHER... I KNOW I CAN BE JUDGMENTAL... BUT I AM ALWAYS HERE FOR YOU. YOU CAN TELL ME ANYTHING... NEVER HESITATE TO TELL ME WHEN SOMEONE IS HURTING YOU... BECAUSE SO HELP ME GOD, I WILL TEAR THEM LIMB FROM LIMB (cut off) I WILL TORTURE AND (cut off) UNTIL THEY KNOW NOT TO MESS WITH MY BIG BROTHER!" Yeah, Papyrus DOES care for Sans, he just isn't completely showing it unless it's something like Sans possibly being "hurt" (i still dont know canonfell Sans HP, and I dont want to disturb fella for it, I only saw somebody saying it was 20 instead of 1), but even if he did get hurt, it's obvious that there wouldn't be a trace of them left on the planet. I bet you even the dust is going to be gone. Bro will ULTRAKILL them faster than Papyrus can react. But yeah, the bros technically still care for each other, but it's not very apparent unless it involves something like Papyrus or Sans getting hurt... OH YEAH AND THEY'RE FIGHTING OVER WHO'S COOLER, BUT IMO, SANS JUST GOT THAT CLEAN-ASS DRIP, BRO IS FUCKIN DRIPPED AS FUC-

[twinliches]

now just who are you larping spinach cultists with.

while desperately trying to finish my essay on ecological futurism during a study session, i read in one book that research indicates that spinach can be used as a lithium substitute in batteries. upon sharing this with my study group, my equally academically exhausted and equally strange best friend asked a question that would shape the next three years and counting of our lives: "if spinach is the future of energy, why the fuck are we in college and not spinach farmers?"

this set in motion a frantic and procrastinating research on everything from spinach cultivation to farm lot prices, and in only a few hours the plan b of farming unfertilized spinach for battery production was cemented. the next day, when asked by our baffled friends why the fuck we were so obsessed with spinach all of a sudden i, with the unhinged hysteric energy that only severe sleep-deprivation mixed with energy drinks and the pressure of a deadline can bring, decided to summarize the previous evening with: "spinach is our beacon of hope." things escalated from there.

i have an entire wall in my apartment filled with art about spinach. there is a spinach mixtape, spinach clothing designs, and a spinach manifesto. for my last birthday, three people independently gifted me spinach seeds. me and the spinage (age of spinach) group meet every second monday to brainstorm new ways to spread the gospel. i spent three hours last night compiling satellite data images of the production site of a german spinach distributor and our enemy #1 (long story) to figure out their harvesting patterns. my real boss at work has asked about "my spinach thing" and i didn't even know where to begin explaining the motivational spinach poster i had put up in my office.

you know, i'm not even sure it is a joke anymore. apart from commiting to the bit with your friends being a joyful activity, spending my free time researching spinach and creating art about it genuinely makes me feel like there is a brighter future and helps relieve my anxiety about failure. should i get fired from my job, my life doesn't end - my life as a spinach farmer begins. by claiming spinach to be a beacon of hope, i spoke it into existence. the future is now, and it's leafy green and rich in nutrients. spinach forever

[bunnyychi]

A Heartstruck Collision

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Masterlist

Pairing: Zach Hadel x f!Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: This is gonna be a slow burn fanfiction and Zach won't show up til some chapters in so I hope you can have a little patience for me :> This is super self indulgent btw as you can see from me making Game Grumps an intrinsic part of the story

Tags: If you wanna get tagged for the next chapters, just let me know!

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Living in L.A was.. different, to say the least.

Don't get it confused, it wasn't horrible but it certainly was a different experience from what you had known of a “normal life” up until that point.

If you had to use just three words to sum it up, you'd probably say: loud, busy but fun.

You had moved there a few weeks ago after landing a job as an animator at the Game Grumps Company. Your bosses, Arin Hanson And Daniel Avidan, had, after years of only talking about it and never acting on it, started working on an animated Series called “Game Gyaru”.

The ad hadn't just drawn you in because you had been a fan of them for many years, but also because of the style that they were going for. 90's anime with all the good stuff: Magical Girl Transformation, feel good humor and beautiful sparkly, saturated images.

Not only the job offer was great in and of itself but the pay you were about to receive would definitely make up for some of the left over student debt as well as the fact that your apartment was being paid for you by Arin or rather, his company.

They say “never meet your heroes” but in this particular case, you might've just gotten extremely lucky.

You had your first meeting with the Grumps just a week ago. It hadn't been anything special. A few awkward handshakes, tripping over your own words and an introduction to your new workspace (which featured one of the most expensive and fancy drawing tablets you had ever seen by the way) and of course, a brief meeting with your future colleagues. Well- a brief meeting with their names so to speak.

Apparently Ross O'Donovan, which you had been following as well, would be working on the project alongside you in addition to some other names that you haven't had a face in mind to connect them with.

They were most likely cut from the same cloth as you, other kids who just graduated from an art school that totally drained them and that have been begging for a stable job and finally getting a chance to put their degree to something useful.

As you had gotten home after your first day there, it had felt surreal. It still did even a week later and the mere thought of what your younger self would say if they saw you working under their favorite content creators was definitely tripping you up (hence the periodical screeches you had let loose whenever you thought about the matter at hand)

Much to your dismay though, all of the excitement for your new job was not enough to get you to finally properly move into your home. There were still about a dozen boxes standing around, just waiting for you to finally confront all of the useless stuff you had bought and acquired over the years.

Then again, you justified the leftover boxes by saying that you had already unpacked all of the very important stuff like dishes or clothes and yet you knew that someday you would have to face the consequences of your own procrastination.

“Did you just move in?”

“Oh no I uh.. I've been living here for a year now”

You could already hear the conversation happening in real time if there ever came a moment where you invited someone over.

‘Not today though” you thought, a sleepy yawn accompanying It. The last few days had been spent wandering around L.A or doodling various characters to try and get yourself in the right headspace for the coming months. An Art-Block would definitely be the worst thing that could happen right now so drinking in the entirety of a new city should hopefully keep your inspiration going.

Deciding to wrap up for today though, you finished your glass of water and closed your sketchbook, letting the pen collide with the hardcover of the book.

The apartment wasn't really big, yet that was absolutely fine. It meant that keeping the place clean was going to be significantly easier and the chances of losing your keys or important letters sank by at least 5%.

Just as you closed your bedroom door behind you, your phone vibrated in your pocket.

>>Hey there! Arin wanted to text you himself about tomorrow but he got kinda caught up so I just wanna make sure you're ready for tomorrow? :D<<

The text you had gotten was from Ally. She often aided Dan and Arin with their endeavors and all of their projects so it was no surprise that she also assisted with this one. Your encounter with her last week had been quite short lived yet her welcoming personality had you immediately feeling like this was going to be a comfortable working environment and one of the first things she had said to you was:

“And if there is anything you need, you can always come to me, I've got an ear for everyone”.

If that wasn’t the sweetest first thing you had ever heard while being somewhere completely new, you didn't know what was.

>>Hi :) Yeah I'm good, a little nervous but I'm sure I'll manage o7<<

You threw the phone onto your bed, pulling out your pajamas and putting them on, another vibration from your phone telling you that Ally had probably responded.

>>Oh yeah I totally get that dw! Just for your own peace of mind though, you really don't gotta get caught up with putting on a show or acting super professional, we're all friends here :D<<

You couldn't help but smile at that message. That interaction alone contradicted everything that you had heard about working life. Your parents and teachers had done a great job with the whole “that won't fly later in life” and yet here you were, using emoticons while speaking with one of your superiors.

Part of you was excited to rub it in their faces the next time you would call and yet you knew that they probably wouldn't look at animation as being a serious job. At least not if you weren't working for an actual company that had their shows playing on public tv.

Even though it was a sad thing to think about, they'd probably be more impressed if you were working on Family Guy.

With a tired sigh you plopped down on your bed, the slatted frame squeaking beneath your weight.

You contemplated for a second about whether or not you should cover yourself with your blanket. Another aspect that needed adjusting was the heat.

Luckily your apartment had air conditioning but you didn't want it running the whole time. Just because someone was paying for your place didn't mean that you had to max out every cost as much as possible.

Before drifting off to sleep, you decided on the old “one leg covered and one not”, using your body's built-in AC system (which actually worked quite well).

As you slowly succumbed to your own tiredness, your head was filled with all kinds of different images. Some were familiar, clearly influenced by the events of the past days but there were some which didn't quite fit into any picture.

You had met one of your, up until now unknown, colleagues. His face was obscured, your mind clearly leaving out the one part which would make it realistic.

You couldn't really make out what the conversation was about, only the feeling of butterflies to indicate what it was about.

Your hands had touched briefly as he took the pen from your hands, leaning over your shoulder from where you were sitting at your desk. You swore that your body actually started to heat up from what was just a random dream.

He was correcting your drawing a little and then he looked at you, his face so close to yours now and even though he had no face you just knew that he was smiling at you, his gaze softly looking at your lips and back into your eyes.

Gently, he put the pen down onto your desk while you were slowly closing the distance between you.

You felt his breath on your skin, his lips ghosting over yours, almost, finally touching-

“Ughhh what the fuuuck…”

Alright, your first paycheck would buy you an alarm that doesn't sound like an army drill.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you slowly sat up in your bed. Motivation to start your job wasn’t necessarily the issue, of that you had enough. Sadly though, your sleep schedule had a mind of it’s own. Still remembering all the nights you had spent up and working on your portfolio only for some company that ended up using the Chairman’s son (who had no degree or any creative abilities whatsoever) to design their new bougie logo.

Some might say that there was bitterness attached to memories such as those.

Deciding that huffing and puffing over previous job opportunities wouldn’t get you out of bed though, you finally stood up. Immediately regretting it as you felt your head spin from the sudden movement.

Maybe a little less motivation?

You slowly made your way toward the small kitchen, coffee being the only thing on your mind when it came to the matter of waking up. As you waited for the old machine to get started, you went back into your bedroom. Opening the wardrobe and looking at it. Contemplating.

You wanted to seem put together but also not too much - didn’t want to set expectations that you would only be able to hold up for a week maximum.

A simple t-shirt and jeans. Yeah, that is business casual, right?

In a way you felt stupid for even having to think about the whole thing. It would most likely be no issue if you showed up in sweatpants and a tank top for your whole time being there, as long as your work was good nothing else mattered.

Especially working as an animator, you had learned from personal experience that after 30 minutes your body seemed to magically shift into the most absurd positions anyway. So better be comfortable than not.

After donning on the not so carefully planned outfit, you walked back to your now steaming coffee. One look at the watch on our wrist told you that you had about 20 minutes left. Downing the beverage in a span of time that would definitely result in stomach issues, you opted for the bathroom. The mantra here was the same as with the clothes: Not too much but not too little.

***

The office was nicely cooled, a stark contrast to the humidity outside. You already heard many unfamiliar voices coming from your workspace, nervousness bubbling up inside you. ‘What are these other people like?Would they be way better at this whole stuff?’ Would they fire you if they saw that the others were more qualified? Usually you wouldn’t talk so negatively about the degree that you had worked so hard to get and yet in moments like these you always felt so inferior.

“Yeah, (y/n) should be here any minute now as well.”

As you heard Ally’s voice, you took one last deep breath. ‘It’ll be fine, just play it cool. You’ve come this far’

Turning the corner to the animator’s space, you were met with three unfamiliar faces. They weren’t scary looking or anything, the whole scene itself just felt comical and intimidating. As if you had been intruding on something even though they had been waiting specifically on you.

“Hey, sorry, hope I’m not late or anything?” You glanced at your watch once agin. Just on time.

“Oh no, we all showed up more or less right now so nothing to worry about!” Ally showed you a sympathetic smile to which you couldn't help but reply with one of your own.

The introductions luckily went by quite fast, leaving little room for any awkward silences that you always dreaded when it came to meeting new people.

For one, there was Hayley who seemed to come straight out of the hipster era from the 2000’s. She had long blonde hair that went far past her shoulders and was contrasted starkly by the red beanie which she had pulled halfway over her head so that a lot of the fabric was casually hanging down at the back of her head. It was already clear as she introduced herself that she was an energetic type of person. That and the fact that she had been living in L.A for 3 years now, definitely made you feel a little inferior, even though she seemed friendly.

Jackson, a tall brunette guy whose style was very normal (in a good way), had also been living here with his girlfriend for about one and a half years now. The way he talked and the ease with which he spoke made him appear confident and yet there was something very humble about him. Perhaps a sort of ‘gentle giant’?

Lastly, there was Raphael. He came over to the USA all the way from France and although his english was as good as that of any foreigner who dismissively says that their “english wouldn't be very good” (which was the universal sign of their english surpassing even shakespeare), he still had a french accent which drew everyone in as he was talking. It sounded so much more fancy even though it was just a regular introduction. His hair was tightly coiled at the top and what especially stood out about Raphael was the white tattoo on his right forearm. The white ink stood out like it was some magic seal and depicted a moth breaking out from its cocoon, one wing already free'd.

Out of the other two, he was the most timid one and the only one that felt like he felt as out of place as you did.

“Alright, now that all of us are here, I just wanna make sure that all of you got the mail about the concept for the Pilot?”

Everyone agreed in a half-unison “yeah”.

The Idea for the Pilot was quite simple in and of itself. It was no secret that the whole series was heavily inspired by shows like Sailor Moon or Cowboy Bebop which is why it was set in a sci-fi world which still felt all retro-y. The episode was supposed to start with a little sequence in which Arina was playing an arcade game in their little spaceship and of course, she was losing and punching the machine. Then, Daniella was supposed to come into frame and tell her, in typical Dan-fashion, that it was alright to which they’d have a little banter.

Afterwards, the actual story of the series was supposed to begin. Their superior, a man who coincidentally had a lot of similarities to Barack Obama, informs them about a mission. A woman apparently paged them because her son was acting strange.

The whole episode basically forms about one bit where Arin pretended to be a monkey child called Franklin that was out of control. With the crucial detail that this behavior was caused by some cursed jewelry. The Pilot should end by Arina and Daniella stopping the main villain's henchman who was hexing said jewelry - meeting the big bad guy in the end as well. Typical foreshadowing.

After the brief recap of what was about to happen, all of you sat down on your desks, getting comfortable with the new equipment. Since Arin and Dan had already evaluated some of your concept art and decided upon which would be the best way to start, it was basically just piecing together the puzzle. Well, a puzzle which had to be drawn up and then cleaned multiple times but still.

After a while of experimenting and Jackson and Hayley actually getting somewhere with their segments, Ross also entered the office.

“Sorry I’m late everyone, I had to work on this other thing as well. I'll try to be on time in the future.”

All four of you reassured him immediately, partly also because you all had immense respect for the guy and his abilities.

“What have you gotten so far?”

“Me and Hayley just finished sketching up like three frames of our scenes.”

Ross nodded, trying to see where he could fit into the picture.

“You guys are still getting used to the program?”

His gaze fell onto Raphael and you who could only reply with a sheepish smile in return.

Was it bad that you weren't working as fast?

“If we have to hurry up you can tell us, it's just like new and all. I for one never worked on an actual series up until now.” Raphael spoke up, his accent naturally swallowing up certain letters.

Ross immediately put up his hands:

“Oh no, no, all good! I just wanted to check where everyone was at.”

He scratched his chin, seemingly in thought.

“Okay, this might sound super stuck up and shit but should I maybe take on the role of director? If I remember correctly from your portfolios, none of you have worked on a series so far, which isn't a bad thing-” he hastily added in between.

“I'm just saying cause I've been here the longest as well. Might make things a tad bit easier for all of us.”

It really didn't sound arrogant, it was just the truth after all. No one opposed the idea of having someone as an actual director, seeing that it would probably help the entire flow of the team in the future.

After a brief discussion of how the program worked and how to approach the whole project in the best way, the tension that had been present in the room before practically dissolved immediately.

Ross, having worked with multiple animators already, was definitely educated in how to make beginners feel alright with their abilities and there was a silent aura of thankfulness surrounding all four of you as you continued to work.

***

“Whew, good job everyone! Holy shit that is like so much for one day!” Ross looked at your screens with an astounded expression.

Very much exhausted from concentrating and your hand having cramped up like five times today, you finally stretched. It was one of those that made you feel dizzy and like you were ascending into another plane of existence.

“Do you guys have any plans now?” Ross asked, cracking his fingers one by one.

“Nope, not really. Well, aside from sleeping.” Hayley let out a breathy laugh and got up from her chair.

“I’d invite you guys out for a drink if you want to, some team building and what not.”

That offer would definitely not be turned down.

Ross had mentioned a pub that was actually in walking distance (a miracle from what you knew of American cities). And so, after telling Arin that you'd be finished for today, you guys made your way over there.

The conversations were held light, except for Jackson who saw this as a great opportunity to shower Ross in compliments about his works. The Australian seemed to be slightly overwhelmed by the onslaught of support but he hid it quite gracefully.

You stayed behind everyone as you walked, your social battery needing to be refilled a little before entering a place where conversation was inevitable. You weren't opposed to social interaction, you pretty much appreciated it and realized that you needed it and yet being in a new environment with what were basically just strangers (no matter how famous they were online), was absolutely draining.

As you entered the bar, you were immediately hit with the smell of alcohol and sweat. It wasn’t irritatingly strong but it was recognizable by everyone as you entered, faces twisting for just a split second.

Ross sauntered over to the counter, it was clear that he knew the barkeeper behind it. She vaguely gestured to a corner of the establishment, a little round booth where you were supposed to sit down.

You were leaning back against the soft cushioning off the wall, stretching your legs beneath the round table. The bar looked quite nice, you had to admit.

The whole place looked like it came straight out of another century but not worn out or scuffed. No, it looked fairly well looked after and it seemed that there was definitely no shortage of customers. If anything, you had gotten lucky that Ross had connections or otherwise the plans of a drink after work would have been quickly snuffed out.

The conversations started flowing once again after everyone had gotten their drinks. You mostly decided to listen, chiming in here and there if you had anything in mind that you thought would contribute nicely to the conversation. Otherwise you just sipped on your beverage from time to time, letting the alcohol relax you a little bit more, your fingers still hurting a bit from the way you were holding the pen the entire day.

“Yeah, my parents weren’t really happy with me moving across the entire world.” Raphael confessed, a look of guilt on his face. “I can imagine, you gotta tell us what it’s like in France, I’ve always wanted to go!” Hayley exclaimed, interest clear in her voice.

“It’s not super special, although the cities look nicer, no offense!” Raphael giggled. That you had to agree with. The beach was about the nicest thing in L.A that you had seen so far. Not to mention, walkable cities, who?

“I’ve been to europe once and yeah, it’s like entirely different with how the streets are and all-”

“Ross?”

You all looked up to the voice that interrupted the conversation.

“Oh Chris, what the fuck? What are you doing here?”

Ross got up and hugged the guy whose name apparently was Chris. Could that be the guy from DoodleDoods back then? You remember enjoying the creepy things he used to draw up seemingly on the spot. Didn’t he also have a gaming channel? What was the name again? Oney or something?

“I wanted to come here with Lyle but I think the fucker forgot or something cause I can’t find him anywhere.” He half laughed, he didn’t seem to actually be bitter about it.

“Aw that sucks, well yeah I’m here with my new animation team!” He excitedly pointed toward the four of you now awkwardly sitting in the booth. You gave a little wave to Chris who showed me a little smile in return.

“Animation- oh yeah right! The Game Gyaru thing I remember.” Ross nodded.

“Yup, that’s Raphael, Hayley right next to him and there are Jackson and (y/n)”

“Awesome, nice to meet you, I’m Chris!”

“Wait, you do OneyPlays right?” Jackson spoke up to which Chris threw up his hands in a gesture of feigned defeat. “You got me.”

After another minute of standing around had passed, Chris decided to simply sit down along with all of you, Lyle wouldn’t be showing up anymore anyway - his own words.

What surprised you about him was that talking to him felt very.. normal.

With the Grumps for example there was this feeling of “Oh my god they are internet legends” and although they were just regular everyday people, it still felt surreal talking to them.

The atmosphere in the bar was casual, like you couldn’t make any mistakes and as everyone was agitated in conversation, you realized that living here and working with all of them might actually turn out to be a really fun experience.

[hwljpg]

So, I just finished watching all 9 episodes of Smiling Friends in one sitting.

I dunno why, but I just have a bit of a natural aversion to immediately diving into like Internety things that blow up really quickly. I still need to watch the pilot episode for The Amazing Digital Circus, I have no clue what the game Content Warning is about, I know I got into watching videos on Lethal Company late and such.

One of those things was Smiling Friends. I had seen it blowing up originally, and so naturally, I just drifted away from it. I had subsequently seen it in like some memes or stuff afterwards, but besides that, not much.

It doesn’t help I’ve not really gotten into Adult Swim cartoons at the moment. I love random, but Adult Swim cartoons can be really cynical in a way that makes me wary of them.

Then, I saw you post some art of it. Then some more. Wow, more! What about this show makes this person I consider a good Tumblr friend like it so much to dedicate so much time to doing at about it? Well, you said in an ask that it wasn’t as cynical as other Adult Swim cartoons, especially when it came to Pim and Charlie. Huh, okay, I think I’ll go watch it!

I procrastinated on it for a few days because I was busy. But, finally, I decided, “You know what, I’m just gonna watch it!” I watched the first episode. Honestly, it is my least favorite episode. (Weirdly, just like how the first episode of the Sam and Max TV show is my least favorite.) I didn’t like The Boss breastfeeding, I didn’t like how Desmond kept the gun pointed to his head, I didn’t like the spinning baby. That all felt too jarring for me.

Of course, maybe I wasn’t properly acclimated with the show yet. Besides, there was good with the bad. I thought Pim and Charlie’s dynamic seemed funny, the ending was great, and I liked Allan and Glep as the other two Smiling Friend workers. So, I pushed through.

I ended up really enjoying my time watching the show. There was a lot more I liked than I disliked. My main thing: You were right, it definitely wasn’t as cynical as I thought it would be. Sure, the world still is cynical and messed up at points, but I felt an authenticity to the reoccurring characters and how they dealt with the situations they ended up in. Plus, for every single episode, I didn’t see the ending coming AND felt super satisfied by the resolutions! My favorite episode is probably the Salty’s one.

So, I guess this is a really long way to tell you: Thanks for getting me into Smiling Friends!

ooouuu i’m glad you enjoyed it!! surprising i’ve gotten some people to start the show because of my fanart.. wuohhh

Completely understand the parts that felt jarring; i could only look past it or at times find the humor in it mostly because of how my friends and i perceived and translated it into our own funky little brains. And i don’t necessarily feel as if adult shows need to step away from that very random/jarring humor/gags but more of Figure Out How To Do It Right and that’s what I feel smiling friends does perfectly. But some people are gonna be left with a bad taste in their mouth anyways and that’s completely fine yk.

What I like is how they mix those very jarring elements in their show + the characters world and contrast it with simply how realistic the characters are. They typically converse as if most of this stuff is normal and it only adds more to the joke when they actually freak out. Like i’ve said before i adore the mixture of extremely realistic dialogue that sounds so similar to real life conversations we’ve very have had before with people in everyday life. (that’s why i especially love the trip to brazil episode)

And obviously the lack of cynicism. I’ve been avoiding most adult animated shows for YEARS because i genuinely just can’t stand the cynicism and it’s constantly negative fanbases it always brews. And i’m very heavy on looking to the fanbase to get an example of how good of a media may be or simply how much it may appeal to me. I remember telling a friend that the difference between the rick & morty fanbase to the smiling friends fanbase was just one fanbase is known for constantly having a negative outlook on life and saying shit like “you need to have a high IQ to understand this show” while the smiling friends fanbase just DESPERATELY wants to make out sloppy style with Charlie. There’s no tasteless misogynistic, queerphobic, or racist jokes. Hell they have two fat characters as the main characters and we have not heard a single fat joke. It’s a breath of fresh air and with its inclusion of having many youtube/twitter/online creators be part of the show (and RUNNING the show) i feel as if we’re hopefully stepping into a new age of adult animated media.

hopefully one with a more positive outlook on adulthood.

aaaa enough of my rambling you literally watched the show!! feels so odd i used to be influenced by fanart and now my fanart is influencing others. i will do everything to use this power for good 😭 just happy to see people start and enjoy things im really fond for.

hope u having a good morning/evening/night tumblr friend 🫶

[l0v3sickl0s3r]

you’ve caught a wild ⚡️🌈 Liz! 🌈⚡️ aka the 🌟💟 N kisser of the year frfr 🌟💟

CHOOSE YOUR CHARACTER…

“Wow, that love sure is sick!”

stats: childhood trauma, alright self-esteem, bisexual/asexual, she/her, sleep-deprived, advanced rp-er, easily distracted, and aquarius ♒️

weaknesses: being aggressively yelled at, crowds, loud/overwhelming noises, certain textures, being aggressively told to be quiet/shut up, remembering things, picking up social cues, procrastination, lack of self-care, being called ragatha, creepypasta momo, insomnia, ART BEING TRACED/REPOSTED, and bugs.

strengths: can go for long periods of time without food or water, advanced literature, daydreaming, yapping, drawing, loyal to a worrying degree, very smart, and barely ever gets upsetti spaghetti, tea and biscuits. (selfship name)

inventory: two n plushies (please ask why), infodumps, forgotten candy wrappers, gum, music, broken rubber bands, keychains, and TONS of art :3

diet: silly cartoons, snacks, serial designation n, chips, popcorn, comfort and validation, music, candy, chewing gum (actually chewing sum rn), and silly lil guys :3

hyperfixations/interests (results may vary): smiling friends, pressure, stranger things, dhmis, murder drones, ATSV, cats, animals, ramshackle, bullet train, hazbin hotel, scott pilgrim, one punch man, helluva boss, animaniacs, the owl house, lackadaisy, gravity falls, undertale, the disastrous life of saiki k, class of ‘09, psychology, art, music, and good memes

relationship status: @th34utistic-0ne my girlfriend :3

if missing, her last words are “don’t worry, i’ll just respawn!” if found, please walk the other way. she’s missing for a reason. /j

THIS LIZ IS A MINOR‼️‼️ DON’T BE DOIN WEIRD THINGS 😡 😡 also please no sharing f/o’s :( it hurts my feelings /silly /gen

DNI (Do Not Interact) if you apply to any of the following: Genocide supporter, proshipper, nsfw blog, homophobic, transphobic, racist, sexist, ableist, trump supporter, or just a bully in general.

[banapsha]

Surviving the Writing Struggle: How to Keep it Cool While Slaying Stress

Hey, fellow word warriors and aspiring scribes! 🚀✨ Let's talk about the not-so-glamorous side of being a wordsmith - the stress, the self-doubt, and the eternal question, "Will I ever finish this damn story?" Spoiler alert: You will, but first, let's spill the tea on handling the chaos without losing your sanity.

Spotting Stress in Your Writing Journey: OMG, Drama!

So, you're staring at your blank doc, contemplating life's great mysteries like, "How will everything be done?" and "Will I survive this rollercoaster?"

Calm down, Shakespeare; stress is part of the game. Recognize it, embrace it, then show it who's the boss.

Strategies for Keeping it Sane: Adulting Level - Pro

Chop it Like it's Hot: Seriously, don't look at your project like it's a massive iceberg about to sink your Titanic of creativity. Break it down into bite-sized pieces. You'll feel like a genius crossing off those mini milestones, promise.

Realistic Goals, Duh: Setting goals that aren't straight out of a fantasy novel is crucial. No one's writing a 100,000-word masterpiece overnight. Be real with yourself, and maybe you won't end up hating your own deadlines.

Time Management (or Just Wing It): Procrastination is an art form, but so is managing your time. Create a schedule that doesn't make you want to run for the hills. Balance is key, my friends. Write a bit, Netflix a bit, repeat.

Edit Like a Ninja: Writing is messy, like trying to eat a burrito in a car. Embrace the chaos and save the perfectionism for editing. It's where the magic (and sanity) happens.

Crushing Self-Doubt Like a Boss: Because You're a Rockstar 🌟

Check Yo' Self: Negative thoughts? Nah, fam. Challenge those bad vibes. Replace them with positive vibes only. You got this. Remember, doubting yourself is so last season.

Squad Up: Join a writing community or bug your friends for feedback. Share your struggles and victories. It's like a support group for word nerds, and it's fab.

Party Like it's 1999: Celebrate your wins, no matter how small. Finished a chapter? Treat yourself to a victory dance. You're basically the Hemingway of the 21st century.

Conclusion:

So there you have it, my fellow scribes! The writing journey is a wild ride of stress, self-doubt, and creativity. But remember, you're not alone. Break it down, set real goals, manage your time, and kick self-doubt to the curb. Keep it cool, keep it sassy, and most importantly, keep on writing. Your story deserves to be told, and you've got this! 💪📚 #WritingLife #WordNerdVibes

[eryiss]

[Jet x Freed] Cubicle Capers - Chapter Three

Summary: Jet was meant to do more. He was meant to do something with his degree. He was meant to have a purpose. He'd taken a job at Grimoire Pharmaceuticals to work his way up into a lab position, but found himself stuck in a cubicle. Every day the same. At least he had a new boss coming. Freed Justine. He’d be like the rest, though. Boring, outdated and.. hot as hell?

Notes: Hi all. Back again. Work hours are over, let’s see what happens. Again, this was requested by @jethro-art. Hope you enjoy.

Links: Ao3, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Epilogue

Chapter Three – The Late Night

Jet

Quarterly reports were a necessary evil, or so Grimoire Pharmaceuticals said. For the bosses and big wigs, it probably meant a better look into how big their Christmas bonuses – born from the exploitation of the sick and dying, of course – would be. For the menial workers like Jet, it meant pulling an all nighter finishing paperwork that apparently just couldn't wait another day.

The work always got dumped on Jet's desk. He'd been new to the workforce on the first quarterly report session, and hadn't known that it was always better to dawdle and procrastinate in the office. A fast worker was always given more to do. As such, five years later, Jet found himself alone in the office, slumped over his desk with the intake reports for the entire state, forced to input them into their own separate spreadsheet which would compare how their new rollout of allergy tablets were doing compared to market trends. It was boring as all hell, and he would rather be anywhere else.

An empty coffee cup, and the packaging from a convenience store sandwich cluttered his desk. He would have wanted something more to eat, but fast food wasn't allowed in the building. It was bad for the brand image, apparently.

Bull crap. Jet wondered what health benefits the BBQ Ribs, cheese fries and chocolate cake that was served in the executive canteen had.

"Jet?"

He nearly jumped out of his skin, spinning in his chair and brandishing a hole punch to throw at whoever had spoken. He had been sure he was the only one left in the office. Sure of it. But when he turned to see Freed looking down at him, it was obvious he was wrong.

"Hey, boss man," Jet said slowly. "How you doing?"

"Perfectly fine," Freed frowned. "Are you intending to throw that at me?"

Jet glanced to the hole punch. "Nah. Just like holding it. Like a, erm, fidget toy thing. I don't throw things."

"Right," Freed smiled a little. He did that a lot; smiling but not all the way. It was a good look – a little cocky, a little reserved – but it did make jet wonder what it would be like to see a full smile on Freed's handsome face. "Why are you still here? You know they won't pay you for work outside of your regular hours."

"Yeah, I know," Jet nodded slightly. It was weird. His old boss said that a few times, and it felt like he was rubbing it in his face, but when Freed said it it felt like an actual reminder. "But this has gotta be done, right?"

Freed followed Jet's wave of the hand towards the stack of papers. "That's quite a lot for one person. Shouldn't your team be helping?"

"Ah, it's kinda my thing to do the quarterlies," Jet shrugged, then glanced at the clock at the bottom right of his screen. "Eight o'clock's pretty late for you too? Get caught up in the paperwork?"

"Conference call. The board of directors wanted preliminary assessment of the figures despite the fact they're getting a full analysis at the end of the week. Entirely pointless," Freed sighed, his gaze still lingering on the paperwork. "Do you really expect to do an entire team's worth of work on your own. It hardly seems fair."

"It's fine. I'm like eighty percent done already," Jet shrugged. Freed kept looking at the stack of papers, then walked to Laki's cubicle and switched on her PC, taking half of the stack for himself before sitting at her desk. Jet watched him with bafflement for a moment as Freed logged into his own account. "You don't have to, man. I can handle it."

"You shouldn't have to," Freed dismissed. "This way, it's done twice as fast."

"Seriously I can handle-"

"If you don't do as I say, I will discipline you, Jet," Freed warned with that half smile on his face, and it made Jet's inside squirm with a desire he couldn't quite quantify. He simply nodded, forced himself to put on a grin that hid the weird effect the threat had on him, and gave Freed a salute before he rolled his chair back to his desk and got back to working again.

The next hour was odd, to say the least.

It started off as quiet, with Freed occasionally asking questions on how to work the spreadsheet in a way no other boss would have. They'd assume they knew better and mess it up, leaving more work for Jet to do in fixing it.

At some point, the quiet of the office must have gotten to Freed, because a local radio station began to play from Laki's computer, tinny and annoying but breaking up the silence. Jet hadn't thought of that. Someone had brought in a radio once with their old boss, and they'd gotten yelled at for distracting the rest of the workers. It had been a nice hour while it had lasted. Maybe Freed wouldn't mind music on a workday.

Then, the radio had a competition. One of those stupid competitions; they played a small sound clip and asked people to call in and say what they thought it was. Freed idly huffed and said the sound was obviously the clatter of a fork on a plate. Jet had gaped at him and told him he was an idiot because that was a spanner on a metal tray! That turned into a twenty-minute argument between the two of them, wherein Jet told Freed his business school degree didn't mean crap in radio competitions, and Freed threatened to make an hour-long presentation on PowerPoint on the importance of hearing checkups because Jet seemed to be going deaf.

It was fun. Really fun.

Also, the noise was apparently a spoon in a sink, and then their argument had turned into who was closer. Freed claimed he was right because his contained cutlery. Jet claimed he was right because his had something hitting metal. Neither relented, and their arguing continued as they worked.

Then, just as the working night seemed close to ending and Jet paced his cubicle to stretch out his legs before the final stretch, he actually looked towards Freed. His tie was gone, top button undone, and his sleeves rolled up again. Fucking hell he looked sexy when a little ruffled.

And Jet might have sworn Freed did the next thing on purpose just to drive Jet to a state of madness. Freed picked up a bottle of water and squirted some of it over his face, sighing as the cold water hit his skin. Jet could do nothing but watch as his boss ran a hand over his damp face and through his hair, ruffling it enough to look unkempt for the first time. Droplets of water ran down his jaw, down his throat with his overly pronounced Adam's apple, before sliding down his partially exposed and rather defined chest.

Jet had never understood the desire to lick a man until then. Christ; a dizzy part of his mind screamed to drop to his knees.

"You hot, huh?" He said instead. Freed turned to him, smiled a little guilty.

"I've been trying to get building services to fix the heating. It's ridiculous they haven't," Freed said in explanation.

"Yeah, that's not happening. We've been stuck in sauna mode for years," Jet laughed, glancing at the always-on heaters in the corner. "Gotta say though, late nights really are tough. Gonna need a drink after this."

"Me too," Freed agreed.

And Jet, for reasons he'd never understand, spoke again without thinking. "We could go out when we're done maybe. There's a good bar down the street. Not exactly fancy or anythin', and it might not be up to your rich boy standards but-"

"I'd like to get a drink with you," Freed cut in, and Jet had to take a second to understand what he said.

When he did, he just nodded, and silently digested the fact that he was going to go and get a late-night drink with his boss. His boss who was sexy as all hell, terrible at guessing sounds from radio competitions, and had just made the last hour of work better than anything he'd done in the office for five whole years.

———

Freed

The walk to the bar down the street was just long enough for the small awkwardness between Freed and Jet to return, and Freed was having none of that. That was why he walked directly to the bar and ordered them both a large pitcher of beer to share and two-pint glasses. Jet grinned at him, and they walked to a small table in the corner of the room and settled.

Despite what Jet had said, the bar was incredibly nice. Modern in a hipster sort of way, with arcade machines and pinball machines lining the walls. It wasn't where Freed would choose to go, nor did he think it was one of Jet's regular haunts, but it was nice enough for one evening.

As Freed got accustomed to his surroundings, Jet downed an entire pint of beer.

Freed knew he was wandering into dangerous grounds with this. Jet was, by and large, his favourite employee. Through the few months they'd been working together, more and more of the office had been coming out of their shells, slowly and cautiously. Jet was the outlier, the front runner in being himself, and Freed had grown accustomed to the glimmer of fire that Jet had inside of him. Freed's eyes always were drawn to Jet, and breaking down the barrier of an employer employee dynamic could be a step too far.

But, Freed could handle this. He'd known Jet was handsome from the off. Maybe not in an Abercrombie and Fitch way, but who actually liked models? Jet was sharp, pointy and had a stern resting face. He looked like he could be nasty, but chose to be cheerful. He had bright ginger hair and pointy teeth and, were Freed to let himself think such things, Freed would love to run his fingers across both. He'd seen all of this from the first time they met, and he could control himself perfectly fine. Being at a bar made no difference.

He would keep things to manageable and responsible topics, make sure not to act on those split seconds where he saw Jet as a tempting friend and not his employee, and he would be perfectly respectable. How he could do that while also having fun at a bar, Freed didn't know.

"Rule one," Jet said, cutting off Freed's internal ministrations. "No work talk. Not at all."

"Fair enough," Freed agreed. "And rule two?"

"We take turns buying drinks. I ain't a charity, and I don't like it when people imply that I am. I pay my way, and if you suggest I can't, there's gonna be trouble."

"Noted," Freed nodded. "Are there any other rules I should know about?"

Jet grinned at him. "Not a rule exactly, more like a clause."

"Which is?"

"The loser has to go to the bar, buy themselves the largest pitcher of beer this place sells, go out into the beer garden, and tip the pitcher over their head."

Okay. Freed had a habit of getting into his head from time to time, but he was certain he hadn't missed whatever would make that sentence make sense. "Excuse me?"

"I got a lot of energy, y'know, and I'm kinda tipsy and just wanna have fun. I'm competitive, and I think you desperately clinging onto your dumbass idea that it was a spoon clattering onto a plate proves you're competitive too, so I think we should have fun," Jet shrugged, looking around the room. "We play every game in here that has PVP, and whoever wins the most games by the end of the night wins. Loser does the forfeit."

"And where did the forfeit come from, exactly?"

"Well, I was drinking and I was thinking about the game and then about how you squirted that water over your face and the two things kinda mingled together and then, hey, came up with the perfect way to put my boss man in his place," Jet grinned at him, and Freed tried to push down the burning pleasure that came every time Jet called him boss man. "But you gotta drink too. Otherwise, it's not fair."

Truly, as ridiculous and out of left field the demands were, it sounded like a lovely way to end the day. It had been a long, hot, tedious and endless day, and playing video games and forcing Jet to perform his own forfeit – Freed would not lose – was the perfect way to rebalance the scales.

The second Freed's empty glass was on the table, Jet took his wrist in hand and dragged him towards the nearest arcade machine. He explained what the game was and how to play it, as if Freed were fifty years older than him and needed to be told what a joystick was, and in a rather patronising voice, asked if Freed wanted a practice go. Freed smirked at him full force and a little tipsy, saying that he'd be able to pick it up soon enough. Apparently, Jet didn't know that in every city in the world there was some form of arcade hall, and it was one of the cheapest and easiest ways to pass the time, and Freed had gotten quite good at playing them.

One hour and twenty minutes later, and their completion had been a close run thing. Jet had a natural talent for arcade machines, and also had a competitive streak which refused to allow him to lose. Which was a shame, because he had lost. By three points.

"Oh dear," Freed hummed sarcastically. "That was the last game, wasn't it? Which means you have no chance of getting any more points? Which means you lost, correct?"

"Shut up,"

"Making you the loser," Freed continued. "The loser who has to buy a pitcher of beer and dump it over his head, correct?"

"Yeah, I don't think I'm gonna do that," Jet shrugged, and his sharp little teeth made it hard for him to hide his smile. He was playing the role of unhappy loser rather than actually being one. Then Freed would play his role too.

"Oh I think you will."

"You gonna make me, boss man?" Jet jutted out his chin for that.

"I could," Freed leant in, and spoke low. The booze they'd both been drinking had an effect, and he used a voice seldom heard outside of the privacy of his own home. "But I think you'll do as your told, won't you? Even if you need a little push."

And, with a hand on Jet's lower back, Freed gave him a little push towards the bar. Jet made a show of slumping his shoulders, huffing, and walking towards the bar. Moments later he was holding a large pitcher of beer that sloshed precariously. They walked into the small beer garden side by side, Jet looking at the beer hesitantly as they did so. Freed took a seat at one of the benches and watched Jet with a patient expression.

Jet lifted to pitcher so it was eye level, then stopped. He looked at Freed as if expecting to be told he didn't have to do it, but Freed cocked a brow. "Would you let me get out of it if I had lost?"

Rather than answering, Jet sighed out a quiet 'dammit' and raised the pitcher higher. He clenched his fist, jutted his chin again, and poured the beer over himself in a quick, loud movement. A hush fell over the beer garden as everyone looked at Jet. Freed leant back, a cocky smirk on his face as he relished the moment.

It had been too long since he'd felt like this.

Jet looked at him, ruffled and wet and dripping. He was a mess, and had that look of determination that vowed a need for revenge, and that set a fire inside of Freed that he relished.

"We're coming here next Friday," Jet proclaimed, pulling his hair back in a delightfully tight ponytail. It would be fun to pull on that. Make Jet gasp just like he had when the beer had hit him. "And when you lose, you're getting two pitchers. One goes over your head. The other down your pants."

It was petulant, determined, and so entirely sexy that all thoughts of seeing Jet as a predominantly platonic part of his life died on the spot. Freed was just tipsy enough to not care in the moment. "I look forward to it.