#still don’t have my digital art supplies

[rainoverthewindow]

Quick concept art for that thing I’m working on

Do you want more info I have more info

It’s a work in progress very much so

[cuteniaarts]

@katkastrofa: *writes a single throwaway line in one chapter of Lost and Found that is never referenced again*

Me, completely randomly and with no prompting: Alright, bet–

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 24

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

The afternoon passes peacefully by the soft babble of the brook. Your forgotten friend stays with his camera but doesn’t bother you much. You remember him vaguely. Some years of your childhood seem to blend together but you recall the boy and his lawn mower. Your grandmother would give him a five dollar bill as your mom asked why you hadn’t offered to do it first. 

You’re more surprised that he remembers you. You’ve always been a side note. Nothing or no one special. More than ten years later and he seems almost happy to see you. Well, like he says, a familiar face can be a comfort when everything else is new. 

You still your pencil and look up at the sky then over your shoulder. Peter grabs onto the bridge and swings himself up from below. His camera hangs from a strap around his neck as he tidies his hair. He smiles as he comes across the bridge, his eyes flicking towards your sketchbook. 

You hesitate and turn the page towards him, showing him as your heart pulse. You don’t often share your work and the river scene is much more than your usual subject. He considers it, leaning in as he nods. 

“Wow, very nice,” he praises. “You’re very good at that. Not me,” he chuckles and scratches his neck, “the camera does all the work.” 

You close up the book with the pencil inside. You rock and look behind you once more. 

“Guess you should get going, huh?” He asks. 

You shrug. 

“Can I walk with you? I wouldn’t mind getting the lay of the land,” he offers. “Is it far?” 

You shake your head and press the book to your chest. You turn without a word and lead him across the bridge onto the paved path. You come up onto the sidewalk, the sun beating down hotly on your faded denim and heavy cotton. 

“I’m sorry to hear about your grandma,” he says, “she was a nice woman.” 

You nod and give a bittersweet smile. She could be, when she wanted to be. Other kids deserved kindness, but you, you were useless. 

“Can I show you something?” He asks as he grabs his camera and clicks the buttons, “here, look.” 

He turns the little screen to you and shades it with his hand. You look at you keep your feet moving. A monarch butterfly floats above a broken dandelion, just beyond the river’s edge. The framing brings the eye right to its colourful wings. 

“Pretty,” you say.  

“Huh, yeah,” he lets the camera hang again. “Just a bit of fun. A hobby between classes.” 

You chew your lip and don’t comment on the last part.  

“Engineering,” he supplies, “heavy duty. You go to school?” 

You don’t react as you squeeze the edges of your sketchbook. You look down, your soles scuffing on the pavement. You frown and shake your head. 

“Ah, well, you know, it’s not for everyone. You sell your art?” 

You pop your head up and look at him. Huh?

“Yeah, I’m sure you could sell that if you made it digital or something,” he points to your book. 

Maybe but you don’t have a computer or a tablet or anything like that. You won’t let him know all that. You just shrug and keep walking. 

“Anyway,” he laughs off the awkward silence. 

You look ahead as you come in sight of the house. You see Steve’s car in his driveway and your insides mulch. They’re home. You stop at the corner and face Peter. 

“I’ll walk from here,” you insist. 

“Oh, uh, I don’t mind.” 

“It’s okay,” you say. “Thanks.” 

“Maybe I’ll see you around,” he grins. 

“Maybe.” 

You tramp off and glance behind you, only to make sure he doesn’t follow. He watches but stays on the corner. You turn ahead as you near the front gate of your mother’s house. Your name frightens you as it comes from the other side of the fence. 

“Where were you?” Steve charges down his front steps, so quick and determined that you wince and stumble onto the grass as you look at him. “We were looking for you.” 

“Oh,” you bat your eyes. 

“Oh?” He echoes, “sweetie, we were worried.” 

“I... went for a walk.” 

He looks you up and down, the lines in his forehead lessening as he heaves a breath. He still wears his nice shirt and trousers, but his tie is gone and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His gray hair is neat but for a shank that threatens to fall down his forehead. 

“Drawing?” He asks. You nod. “You should leave a note, next time.” 

“Sorry,” you bite your lip and notice how his eyes catch on that gesture. 

“Your mom’s a bit out of it. It’s been a really long day for her and the last thing she needed was to worry about you,” he shakes his head and crosses his arms. You slump and look at your feet. Your mom worried about you? “I just got her to lay down, I told her I’d find you.” 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat louder, “okay?” 

“Sweetie, I’m just looking out for you. We’re a family now, aren’t we?” 

Your jaw clenches and you stare at him blankly. He keeps saying that but you don’t know. You and your mom were barely that. She just tolerates you. 

“Sorry if I seem impatient,” he says, “we need to talk about some things.” 

“Talk?” You swallow dryly.  

You think you know what he wants to say but you thought he might wait until tomorrow. Your skin buzzes. Your future has always been dull and predictable; just another day with your mom, at home. Now, you might lose both. 

“Come on, it’s still sunny out, we’ll sit out back and I’ll make some lemonade.” 

You try to hide your uncertainty but you can’t feel it straining in your cheek. You put your head down and go around to his side of the picket fence. He waits for you to go ahead of him and leads you around the side of the house. He takes you onto the deck and you sit at the table. 

“Don’t wanna wake your mom,” he says, “I’ll be right back.” 

You stare out at the yard. It’s still very unreal to you. They’re married but everything still looks the same. The distant shouts of child drift in the air and the steady rustle of leaves rises from bushes and trees alike. The sunlight grows unbearable as you sit in its blaze. 

The sliding door shuts and Steve plunks down two glasses of lemonade before he sits. He shifts and adjusts, pulling the chair around closer to you and puts his elbow on the table. He watches you as you avoid looking back at him. 

“Thirsty? You must be hot, why don’t you come in the shade?” He suggests.  

You don’t say a word. You sit there behind a wall, waiting for it to shatter. You grip your book in your lap and stare at the bright green grass. 

“Ahem, so, sweetie,” he clears his throat, “I know this has all been so sudden but... me and your mom talked this out in every direction. After what happened, the hospital, well, she needs help. Professional help. She needs a nurse. Someone to come look after her a few hours a day. And... the invoice wasn’t easy to look at either...” 

He lets his words hang. You and your mom aren’t well off. You never have been. You live in that suburb by the grace of your grandmother’s bequeathal. An emergency room visit isn’t cheap and a nurse is completely beyond your stipend. You frown. 

“But...” you blink. “I take care of mom. I...” you feel bad to mention the money but it’s your only income, even if most of it goes back to her. 

“I know, honey, we talked about that too,” he leans forward and caresses your arm, just above your elbow, “and it’s okay. I told you, I’m going to take care of you both. I’m here to support you. Maybe... maybe you could find something else to earn some money. I know a few gallery owners...” 

You keep your head down as goosebumps rise under his touch. It crawls up under your loose sleeve. You shrink down further. 

“Maybe... I’m not that good.” 

“Who told you that?” He continues to tickle you, more firmly as he shifts closer. “I know it’ll be strange at first, sweetie, but we all just need to get used to each other.” 

You stretch your hands across your sketchbook and go rigid. 

“It’s okay if it’s a lot to process. Take your time,” his hand creeps along your shoulder and down the back, edging along your bra. What is he doing? 

You croak, “okay.” 

“You know, sweetie,” he retracts his hand from your sleeve and tugs it straight. You wince as he leans forward and nudges your chin up, “today was intense but I don’t want you to be unhappy.” 

You just stare at him. What does he want you to say? You can barely think straight. 

“And screw what that waiter said, that dress looked gorgeous on you,” he smiles and drags his fingertips down your neck, his eyes following them, “it fits you perfectly.” 

You clasp your sketchbook tight as heat roils around you. It must be the humidity or the sunlight boiling you from the inside. His hand dances along your tee shirt and he sits back, balling his hand up as he rests it on his thigh. 

“Here, let me show you,” he lifts one hip and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out his phone, “look.” 

He flicks through his phone and brings up a photo. He turns the screen towards you and you reluctantly glance at it. You lean in as you can hardly make it out at first. It’s zoomed in so it’s just you and Steve. You cringe at how your chest seems about to burst from the dress. Your gaze trails down to his fingers curled into your side and sensation ripples up your spine at the memory. 

“You’re a pretty young woman,” he says, “having a nurse, well, that means you’ll get to enjoy this very exciting time in your life.” 

You sit back. You can’t look at the picture again. It’s awful. You hate it. 

There’s a tap on the door and you flinch. Steve sits back stiffly and cranes to see over his shoulder. He blacks the phone screen and stands slowly, his hand grazing over his belt and giving a subtle tug. The fabric along the front tents as if creased. You don’t know, you hardly look at the odd bulging. You don’t even know how you noticed. 

He spins and waves at your mom as she leans weakly against the inside of the sliding doors. 

“Must be her new meds,” he says, “I’ll be back, sweetie.” 

[vintersang]

Does anyone know what’s the best iPad to buy nowadays?

My dash is more active on here, so I thought I would ask the question here. I’ve been wanting to get back into art, try to actually enjoy digital art, so I’m hoping to buy my very first iPad… and I’m very overwhelmed by all the options. I want to use an Apple Pen, if that helps. I’m hoping to use Procreate since I have some brushes I want to mess around with. I’m not very tech savvy, so I’m still researching on what kind of iPad I should get.

I want to use the iPad for app games as well as reading and occasionally writing, so I don’t think it would be a horrible purchase since I can still use it for other stuff whenever I’m not in the mood to struggle with creating art. The main goal for it is art and gaming.

I’ve tried using a drawing tablet on my laptop, but I quickly learned that I didn’t enjoy it. I still own the drawing tablet since it’s still a good thing to have, but mostly because it didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just a me issue, so I have nothing against drawing tablets. I’m thinking an iPad is a better purchase because of all the many uses for it, especially since my phone is too old to properly run games that I want to play. One of my favorite artists also swears by Procreate, so I really want to try it out.

With this in mind, my urge to create art is very weak. It’s mostly due to my mental health and perfectionism joining together to try to destroy my artistic side. I also get guilty when I have to buy traditional art supplies because it feels like a waste in my hands, even though I adore browsing art supplies as much as books. An iPad would definitely scratch my occasional art urges, but it would also give me more portability. I can do a lot on an iPad, so this purchase is long overdue.

[azucar-skull]

ROTLOU - Mikey Oneshot

It's here!!!!!!! I told myself not to do this but if I have to suffer so do you!

Here's Mikey portraying as Sarah from TLOU. The story follows the HBO script to a T cuz I'm lazy and fuck you-- djdjghdfkgh

Genre: Horror

Word Count: 9073

TWs: Blood, gore, character death, gun violence, PTSD, panic attack, all the bad shit

ROTLOU Masterpost

----------------------------------------

Mikey arises in the morning, wind gently flowing through the curtains of his bedroom window. Sunlight spills onto his face as his eyes flutter open at the sound of a car revving up and driving off, a dog barking after it.

Mikey glances around his room, decorated in personality and art supplies before he cautiously peers at the digital clock on his nightstand. 7:08 am.

Mikey springs out of bed, following the sounds of Leo’s alarm clock going off that Leo often slept past. He hurries over to Leo’s bedroom door and knocks alertingly.

“Alarm.”, Mikey calls out. He hears a soft grunt from inside. “Alarm!”

“I’m up, I’m up.”, Leo stirs past the door. Good. He has to get up for work soon.

Mikey and his brothers have grown quite a lot. The brothers are in their 20s by now, the days of the Kraang invasion are over. The days of mutants and yokai hiding from the human world are over too. And while it would be nice to confide in the solace of their old lair, the brothers found it difficult to stay after Splinter’s passing. They moved out towards the calm northeast side of New York in the Astoria district. They got a house, right next to April’s elderly parents. And the brothers themselves have all gotten new jobs, for now is a time of peace and there is no need for ninja stuff anymore. As much as Mikey misses the action, this was nice.

Donnie and Mikey have been doing their own kind of freelance work. Mikey with his art, and Donnie with his tech and repairs. Donnie’s also picked up a fascination for survivalist prepping, the other brothers have grown concerned but don’t bother to pry. Dealing with an alien invasion and near end-of-the-world will leave a permanent mark on you. Mikey has been indulging into his craft, scrapping for enough money to enroll in an art school. He’s been making some good progress. As for Raph and Leo, they became contractors. Helping with constructions and such, especially given their muscle. They always seem to be busy, rushing out in the morning and returning home worn and tired late in the night.

But not today. It’s Leo’s birthday. And Mikey wanted to do something special for him. Mikey makes his way downstairs to the kitchen and turns on the radio as he starts up on breakfast. He cracks a few eggs into the pan, scrambling and frying them up as Donnie steps into the kitchen and starts brewing himself coffee. Mikey pauses his egg frying to search the cabinets for the pancake mix.

…At least…it should be there. But as Mikey searches, there’s no bright blue pancake box to be found. Right on cue, Leo heads down the stairs, buckling his belt buckle.

“Where’s the pancake mix?”, Mikey asks, not looking away from the cabinets, in a tone that implies Leo was supposed to buy some during their last grocery run.

“Oh, was I…”, Leo stirs, still waking up. “...Yeah, I was. Sorry.”

“I was gonna make you birthday pancakes.”, Mikey sighs. He mutters under his breath as he forgets the pancakes and grabs the orange juice from the fridge, “I swear…”

“You know I don’t really like pancakes.”, Leo hums as he pours himself some of the coffee that Donnie brewed.

Mikey scoffs a laugh. “I know you don’t like them. It was for my benefit.”, he smirks as he pours a glass of orange juice. 

Mikey turns to Leo with the orange juice as Leo turns to him with his coffee. Mikey glances at Leo’s mug before insisting.

“Vitamin C.”, he points out.

Leo begrudgingly nods, taking the glass as Mikey heads back to his eggs that he’s abandoned on the stove for the last 5 minutes. Leo winces at the bright taste of the juice and goes back to his coffee.

“You, uh, get your homework done?”, Leo asks.

Mikey rolls his eyes with a wry smile as he turns to Leo. Of course, he has. He’s always been. Taking up GE classes at the local community college as he works on building his art portfolio. Mikey doesn’t get why his older brothers still feel the need to baby him. He shakes his head, turning back to the eggs.

“Fractions?”, Leo adds. It gets a chuckle out of Mikey. Leo smiles back at the sound of his little brother’s laughter.

Mikey finishes the eggs, dishing them out at the dining table where Donnie is already seated, sipping his coffee and scrolling through his phone. Mikey and Leo sit down beside him, eating their breakfast.

“How old are you again?”, Mikey turns to Leo.

“26.”, Leo answers through bits of his eggs.

“Gonna have to wear diapers soon.”

“Who says I don’t already?”

Mikey hums, nodding at Leo. On the inside, Mikey suppresses a chuckle. It’s how the two have developed their playful banter these days, ragging each other on. Leo picks at something in his teeth. He glances down at it on his finger.

“Shell.”

“Calcium.”, Mikey smiles wide, his mouth full of scrambled eggs. Donnie winces in disgust.

“Lovely.”, the softshell comments.

Then the sound of large footsteps make their way in through the door. Raph. Leo glances at the sound’s direction.

“Is there enough for Raph?”

“Well, there would have been…”, Mikey draws. Raph usually heads out early in the morning to go work out at the gym in lieu of having a dojo readily available anymore.

Raph smiles as he strides into the kitchen, playfully nudging Leo’s shoulder. “Ayy! You’re still alive, you old fucker.”, he taunts, making his way to the fridge.

“Aw, he loves you.”, Donnie snarks with a smile.

“He’s dependent on me, it’s not the same.”, Leo mumbles.

“I think it’s the same.”

“It’s definitely the same.”, Raph adds, grabbing a plate and glancing at the empty pan on the stove. He spins around to Mikey. “I thought we was havin’ pancakes.”

Mikey snickers as Leo pauses his chewing and glances up at the oldest. He shrugs.

“We’ll pick you something up on the road.” Then he adds, “Concrete guys gonna be there?”

Raph hums, heading for the fridge, “Yeah, they said maybe.”

“Maybe? We can’t frame until we pour. We’re not getting paid until we frame.”

Raph grabs some leftover wings, sniffing it to see if it’s still good. “Well, we could bring someone else on, get the job done faster.”

Leo immediately shakes his head, turning back to his food. “No, no. I’m not splitting this job. I barely wanna split it with you.” He looks back up. “We could work a double.”

Mikey pauses, glancing over at the slider. “Literally? Today?”, he hisses.

“I know. I’d be done by nine.”, Leo assures before turning to Raph. “By nine, right?”

Raph glances at Leo, then at Mikey. “...Yeah.”

Not convinced by Raph’s answer, Mikey brings his pleading eyes over to Leo who picks up on it quickly.

“I’ll bring back a cake.”, he nods. “I promise.”

Mikey sighs, turning back to his food and keeps eating. The silence in the room allows the radio to be overheard. Music no longer playing, but instead a news report.

“...continued disturbances in Jakarta, but are advising US citizens…”

Leo ponders at the report, sipping his coffee. “Jakarta. Where is that, Middle East?”

Raph hums, thinking. “Doesn’ ring a bell. It’s definitely a country. Or maybe part of Asia?”

Donnie scoffs. “Jakarta isn’t a country. Being a part of Asia isn’t mutually exclusive with being a country, and in fact, it’s the capital of Indonesia.”

Raph chuckles at his genius younger brother. “Shit. Hope for us yet.”

On cue, the microwave beeps, signaling Raph’s food is ready. Leo stirs, clasping his hand at a wrist watch that isn’t there and digs into his pockets for his phone to check the time.

“Finish up quick, we’ll drop you off.”, Leo says, getting up and bringing his dishes to the sink.

“I’m still eating my eggshells.”, Mikey retorts.

“You got seven minutes.”

“Your t-shirt’s inside out.”

Leo glances down at his shirt, noticing the inseams sticking out. He sighs in defeat, hurrying off as he tugs off his shirt.

“Shit…”

Raph chuckles, chewing on his chicken wings. He smiles and shakes his head, turning to Mikey and Donnie.

“He’s losin’ it.”

Mikey laughs at Raph’s banter as Donnie shakes his head. The brothers finish their food and hurry off to get ready for the day. Mikey runs up to his room and grabs his bag to head to his classes. He glances down the stairway to make sure his brothers don’t notice as he dips into Leo’s room. He turns off the fan that’s always running and digs through the drawers. He brings out Leo’s favorite watch, a watch that’s been broken for a long while. Then he grabs some of the cash from Leo’s drawers. Mikey would pay to repair it himself, if only his freelancing gig has been merciful. No one wants to commission art from him. He sighs at the thought, ignoring his own self-doubts as he sets the cash down on the table. Then his eyes set on Leo’s pocket knife that’s kept in the drawers. Mikey opens up the blade, seeing the beautiful engravings, running his finger across it. Mikey is pulled out of his trance at the sound of a car honking.

“Mikey!”, Leo beckons from outside.

Mikey quick tucks the knife back in the drawer, grabbing the cash and watch and slips them into his pocket as he hurries out of the house. As he heads out the door, he hears a familiar friendly voice call over.

“Hey, neighbor!”, old Kirby O’Neil smiles. He sits on the lawn in front of his house with his very elderly mother in law in her wheelchair beside him.

“Oh, hi.”, Mikey smiles politely.

Kirby nods, turning to force feed his mother in law, referred by everyone as Nana, some biscuits he had on a plate. The old woman is barely there anymore, staring off into the distance.

“Uh, Carol was asking after you, since you haven’t been over in a while.”, Kirby says.

Now, Mikey loves April’s parents. They’re the sweetest. But his politeness does have its limits and Mikey would like to allot time for his art instead. He turns to Leo, who’s packing up the back of the pick-up truck with equipment, for support. But Leo gives Mikey a stern look.

“Make ‘em happy.”, he mutters.

Mikey sighs, forcing a smile as he turns back to Kirby. “I could come by after class. But just for like…a little bit?”

“Oh, she’ll take whatcha got.”, Kirby chuckles. “Y’all can bake, whatever. Speakin’ of…we got a lotta extra here.”, Kirby turns and picks up the plate of biscuits. “Y’all—y’all want some biscuits?”

Mikey smirks, thinking of a way to rag Leo. “Leo, you love biscuits.”, he smiles at his brother.

Leo stirs, glancing at the conversation. Kirby carefully helps Nana wipe a crumb off her face and poke it back in her mouth. Leo winces in disgust.

“...I do.”, Leo drawls. “But I’m on Atkins.”

“On what now?”, Kirby asks.

“It’s uh— You know what? We gotta run, but Mikey will be by later. He’ll stay as long as you want.”, Leo smiles. “Tell you all about Atkins.”

“Great! I’ll let Carol know.”, Kirby grins.

Mikey scoffs at his brother and the smooth playoff he just pulled. The brothers start to pile into the truck. He shakes his head with a grin as Leo opens the door for him.

“Solid.”, is all he says as he climbs into the backseat with Raph. Leo and Donnie taking the front seats.

Donnie sits up in the driver’s, buckling his seatbelt with a lit cigarette in his mouth. “Can’t tell you how exciting it was listening to that fucking conversation.”, he drawls.

“Put that out.”, Leo snarks.

Donnie rolls his eyes as he puts out the cigarette and tosses it. “Happy birthday to you.”

The truck starts, driving off. Just a normal mundane September day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mikey sits in his English 101 class, listening to the professor’s lectures as he goes over his notes. Bored out of his mind, he starts doodling on the edge of the pages. He pauses his doodling when he notices a light reflecting onto his hand. He glances at the reflective light before looking up at the culprit.

A student in the row in front of him, adjacent to the right. They’re wearing a shiny metallic bracelet on their wrist. The student doesn’t look like they are paying much attention to the lecture. Staring blankly at the front, their writing hand still and pressing the pen against their notebook that the ink begins to pool. Their bracelet wrist twitching rhythmically, reflecting light off of it.

Mikey stares with curiosity before suddenly the dismissal bell rings and all train of thoughts leave him. He hastily tucks his notes away and gets up to leave with the rush of the other students, ignoring the professor shouting out the homework among all the rush.

Mikey hurries out off campus to the bus stop before it can leave without him. He steps in, paying the fee and riding the bus to a part of town he doesn’t visit much. But he knows where he’s going, noting the clockwork repair shop as he crosses the street. There’s a large crowd of people off to the side, enjoying their meals from the surrounding food trucks and picnic tables. 

He smiles at the man behind the counter, a radio softly playing music in a language Mikey doesn’t know. He asks the man to take a look at the watch. The man pries the watch open, looking at the gears for a few minutes as Mikey asks how much the repair is.

“...Twenty.”, the man says.

“That’s it?”

The man smiles, looking up at Mikey. “Okay, thirty.”

Mikey grins at the man’s joke. “Twenty’s good.”, he says as he digs through his backpack for the money and sets it on the counter.

“It’s a spring. I’ll do it right now.”

Mikey nods, swinging his backpack over his shoulders as he looks around the shop. Eyeing the peculiar clocks on display. He hears sirens rush past, but it’s nothing abnormal from the bustling sounds of the city. He stirs a bit at the sound of a wailing fire truck following close behind but pays no mind. Doesn’t even notice the SWAT car tailing them as well. The man sighs.

“All day, I swear.”, he mutters.

Suddenly, a woman appears past the beaded curtains. She looks as if she’s seen a ghost, glancing between the man and Mikey.

“We’re closing.”, the woman says, rushing to the door to flip the sign.

“Huh?”, the man turns to her.

She says something in Arabic before continuing. “We’re done for today.”

“It’s 3:15, we close at 7.”, the man gestures to one of the many clocks.

The woman hisses at him in Arabic again. She turns to Mikey, gently ushering him out the door. “I’m very sorry. He cannot finish.”

“I’m already finished!”

The woman shouts at the man in Arabic again as the man puts the watch in a box and hands it to her. The woman shoves the box into Mikey’s hands and escorts him to the door. “You should go home.”, she warns.

Mikey steps out the door as the woman shuts it behind him, quickly closing all the shutters in a hurry. As he turns back to the street, he notices a strange emptiness. The crowd of people by the food trucks are gone, some things left behind in a hurry. It is an eerie sight from the once bustling city just a few minutes ago.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mikey heads back home and hurries over to his neighbors, feeling a bit more relaxed when he is greeted by Carol’s kind smile.

“There you are, sweetie.”

“Sorry.”, Mikey smiles.

“I was getting worried.”

“I was getting something for my brother.”

Mikey steps inside, taking in the old grandma-aesthetic of the place. A familiar creature bounds up to him, chirping delightfully. Mikey crouches down to pet them.

“Hi, Mayhem.”, he smiles, greeting the yokai creature. But his mind is still filled with worry. He turns back to Carol.

“Hey, is everything okay? Like, on the news?”, he asks.

“Like what, hon?”

“Well, n-no, there was just…a lot of police and stuff on the road today.”

“Well, that’s true every day, innit?”, Carol turns to him. “People out there need to get right with Jesus. 3 nails, plus 1 cross, equals 4-given.” She pushes past the barn doors into the kitchen as Mikey leans in. “I was thinking we could make some cookies.”

“Chocolate chip?”

“Raisin.”, Carol grins excitedly, picking up a baking tray.

Mikey makes a face as he pauses in the doorway. Not a look of disgust, but not a polite smile either.

Mikey and Carol bake the cookies together, the box turtle working on his homework at the dining table as the cookies bake. Carol tries to feed her old mother, muttering some comments as she walks past to take the cookies out of the oven. Mikey pauses his homework, sighing and glancing around the house. He gets up and heads to the living room and peruses the shelf full of DVDs. 

“You wanna give me a hand?”, Carol calls out.

“Be right there!”, Mikey calls back as he continues searching the shelf. Perhaps he can find a movie for him and his brothers to watch tonight. Something Leo would like for his birthday.

He hears a small croaking behind him, probably just Nana. Mikey’s still surprised she’s even still kicking. Perhaps she’ll break the record for oldest person alive.

Breaking his train of thought, he spots something that he knows Leo would enjoy. Curtis and Viper 2. He picks the DVD case off the shelf, glancing at it for a moment before heading back to the kitchen.

“Hey, Mrs. O’Neil? Could I borrow this?”, he asks, showing the movie to her.

Carol puts on her glasses as she glances over the cover. “Yeah, sure. It’s one of Kirby’s.”

Mikey quickly thinks of an excuse to leave. “You know what? My brothers are gonna be back real soon. I should go.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, you’re taking some cookies.”

Mikey packs his bag, stuffing the DVD and cookies inside as he heads out to leave. But then he hears Mayhem whining. He glances over to see the yokai sitting and tilting their head at Nana. Maybe she’s finally reached her limit afterall. Though, Mayhem’s reaction is strange.

Mikey heads out the door to go back to his place when he hears rumbling from overhead. There’s no thick clouds or signs of thunder, but Mikey’s curiosity is answered when a fleet of jets zip by, heading somewhere. That’s odd. Maybe there’s some kind of air show happening?

Mikey can’t think of another reason why military jets like that are here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s getting late and Mikey’s getting annoyed. Flipping through a magazine on the couch in his pajamas as his brothers’ dinners get cold. The TV quietly plays the news, some report about violent attacks happening in the city and some sort of…street drug? Mikey’s not really paying attention. Soon he hears the sounds of keys and the door opening. Raph and Leo walk in, Donnie nowhere to be found and is probably at some bar again. Mikey sighs as his two older brothers enter.

“You locked the door for once.”, Raph mumbles. “Good job.”

“Yeah.”, Mikey hums, turning the TV off.

Leo slouches onto the couch beside the youngest, worn out and exhausted.

“It’s 10.”, Mikey spat.

“I know.”, Leo sighs. “They…gave us the wrong size for the headers… That doesn’t mean anything to you, I’m sorry.”

“Where’s the cake?”

Leo sighs again, ragged and tired. “Shit…”

“C’mon, man…”, Mikey whines.

“I’ll get us one tomorrow.”

“Swear, or you don’t get your present.”

Leo perks up. “You got me a present?”

“Swear.”

“On my life.”, Leo blinks.

Mikey smiles cheekily as he digs behind the couch pillow to bring out the box. Raph sits down in the chair next to the two, sighing with exhaustion as well. Mikey hands the box to Leo who hums and presses his lips in amusement.

“Wow.”, he drawls. Then he opens the lid. And stops. Staring.

Mikey grins warmly. “Fixed it for you.”

Leo takes the watch, glancing at it. Then his brows furrow as he places the watch against his tympana. He looks more concerned.

“Did you?”

“What?!”, Mikey’s smile drops as he reaches for the watch.

“I don’t hear anything…”

The watch is fine, ticking away. Mikey sighs in relief and relaxes, Leo and Raph chuckling back. Mikey scoffs.

“That was lame. You’re lame.”

“Yeah, I know.”, Leo smiles, looking proudly at the watch. “Where’d you get the money for this?”

“Drugs. I sell hardcore drugs.”

Raph chuckles. “Better than what we do.”

“It was only $20, which I stole from you.”, Mikey explains. Leo turns to him with suspicion. “I could’ve stolen 60, but I put the change back because I’m an honest thief.” Leo hums, relaxing. “Besides, it’s the thought that counts. And you were never gonna do it for yourself, so…”

Leo stares at him for a moment, Mikey can see the thoughts swirling in his mind. He turns back to his watch, fixing it on his wrist. “Thank you.”, he murmurs softly.

Mikey smiles, full of warmth for his brother. Then he remembers. “Oh! There’s one more.”, he says, digging in the couch cushions again. His smile widens more when Leo practically snatches it out of his hands, Raph leading in as well.

“Borrowed it from the O’Neils.”, Mikey says.

“Ohhh, this is the one with the deleted scenes.”, Raph drawls.

“Yeah, imagine how bad those have to be.”, Mikey nods, tapping Leo’s shoulder. “C’mon, pop it in. While it’s still your birthday.”

Leo gets up and puts the movie in before sitting back down on the couch, Mikey snuggling in close.

“Don’t fall asleep.”, Leo mutters.

“Course I won’t. It’s too riveting.”, Mikey teases, wrapping his arms around Leo and leaning against his plastron.

The movie plays, the night getting late. Mikey’s eyes start to droop. He knows he promised Leo he wouldn’t fall asleep but…

It wouldn’t hurt to shut his eyes for a bit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There’s a rumbling. Low and quiet. But it gets louder and louder. Mikey stirs in his sleep, annoyed to be woken up. Sirens start wailing. Then suddenly…there’s a dull boom. Mikey snaps his eyes open and looks around. …How did he get in his room? Did one of his brothers put him to bed? Another dull boom, dogs barking, car alarms going off. Mikey glances at the clock, 2:16 am. 

There’s light flickering through the window and before Mikey knows it, the house starts rattling against a helicopter flying low overhead. Mikey gets up, now more worried. Thoughts begin swarming in his head, thoughts from earlier in the day and all the little signs he’s noticed. Is New York under attack again? Are there villains afoot? A war?

Mikey steps out of his bedroom, heading for his brothers’ rooms. “Raph? Leo? Donnie?”

He searches their rooms, but he’s home alone. Where did his brothers go? Did Donnie get himself in trouble again at the bar? Where are they at this hour? The house rattles again, more helicopters, more jets, more dull booms in the distance.

“Guys?!”, Mikey calls out again, ignoring the strain in his voice as he rushes down the stairs. He needs his brothers. He needs to find out what is happening.

The house is still empty. There’s a car screeching outside as it speeds off in a hurry. Mikey quickly glances around before reaching for the TV remote and turning it on, hoping that there’s something on the news to explain what is going on. But he is met with a droning beep and an automatic security system showing some white text on the black screen.

“Stay indoors. Law enforcement and emergency services are in the area and will be in contact with further instructions.”, the TV repeats in a loop.

An overwhelming sense of dread floods through Mikey’s veins before suddenly there’s a loud bang on the sliding glass door. Mikey screams as he jumps, turning to he sound. There, Mayhem is pressed against the glass, shrilling with worry. Mikey heads up to the front door where Mayhem runs up to him, whimpering and getting behind him as if to shield themself.

“Shh, shh…”, Mikey hushes, crouching down. “Easy. Easy, Mayhem. What are you doing out here, little guy?”

Mikey glances around at the empty street. He gets up, searching around for any clues. Mayhem shrills in warning but doesn’t dare to follow Mikey. Mikey looks up and sees another helicopter flying low overhead, searching for something. Mikey does his best to push down his fears, trying to think rationally on what to do next. He decides his next course of action should be tending to the panicked yokai still screeching after him.

He picks up Mayhem, stroking their head gently as he walks over to the O’Neil’s house.

“Come on, Mayhem. Let’s get you home.”, Mikey hushes. Maybe he could stick with the neighbors until his brothers get back.

Yet Mayhem is hesitant, whimpering and whining before climbing out of Mikey’s arms and jumps off, running away. Mikey calls for them, trying to grab them but only manages to grab the collar before it slinks off the yokai. Mikey has no choice but to head to the O’Neils and tell them what happened. Hoping they would have some answers about what’s going on.

Yet when Mikey approaches the house, he notices the door is wide open. The rug leading to the door is all scrunched up and a dog leash lies abandoned on the ground. Was Carol going to take Mayhem on a walk? No…something else happened here. Mikey steps in the house, looking around carefully.

“...Mrs. O’Neil?”, he calls out.

No response.

Mikey hears faint clanking coming from the kitchen. The sense of dread pools in his stomach, knotting and twisting with fear. But he must push forward. He’s a ninja! He’s just…out of touch. That’s all. No biggie.

Mikey cautiously approaches the kitchen, setting Mayhem’s collar down. He hears another boom in the distance, a car alarm going off. He whips around to it, afraid someone or…something will jump out to attack him. Mikey takes a shaky breath as his vision blurs from tears forming in his eyes. He approaches the kitchen again, mustering the courage to keep going.

“M-Mrs. O’Neil…?”

He opens the barn doors. Then nearly falls when his shoes slip on something. Something wet. Shining and deep deep deep red.

Mikey’s eyes grow wide as there’s a horrendous change in the atmosphere. The copper scent is strong and foul. His eyes naturally follow the large thick trail of blood to…to Mr. O’Neil. Propped up against the fridge, frozen in terror and staring wide-eyed at Mikey with plea.

“...help me.”, the man whispers.

Kirby’s tank top was covered in blood, bleeding profusely from his shoulder. The man looked in shock, unwilling to move. Mikey felt the same as his jaw dropped, stepping closer to the old man. Kirby flicked his eyes over to the side. And Mikey’s eyes followed.

There on the ground, Carol’s body lays lifeless. And…And Nana…she’s hunched over, digging her teeth into her daughter’s neck. Nana’s breathing was raspy and uneven. The elderly woman slowly pried her teeth away to look up at Mikey, and he almost threw up at what he saw. Vines. Orange life-like vines, like roots. Curling and stretching. Becoming entangled in Carol’s neck wound. Mikey gulped dryly, pushing down the bile that threatened to rise up his throat.

Nana’s breathing gets more frantic, hungry. She staggers to a stand with strength her old frail body never had before. Mikey instinctively felt himself walking backwards towards the barn doors. Then the old woman screams, charging at Mikey with unnatural speed and flailing her arms. Mikey takes that cue to run.

He runs as fast as he can out the door, frantically trying to think of a plan. He needs his brothers, his weapon, something!

As he runs out the door, his vision floods with headlights as a truck screeches to a stop in front of him. His brothers. Mikey feels a wave of relief wash over him that dissipates just as fast when he senses the urgency in his brothers’ voices.

“Get in the truck! Right now!!!”, Leo yells as he jumps out the passenger seat and runs over to Mikey, grabbing his arm. “Move!”

Leo’s holding a wrench like it’s a weapon. Similarly, Raph has a bat and Donnie…is that a police rifle—

A deep seated screech comes from the O’Neil’s house. Nana comes stumbling out before her back gives way and snaps, tumbling down the steps. There’s a tense pause for a moment. Then suddenly, her head snaps back up and she’s crawling. Scrambling for the brothers and screaming wildly. Then she gets up into a stand, sprinting.

Donnie aims his rifle as Raph draws the bat back. “What are we doing, Leo?!”, Donnie shouts.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Leo winds up the wrench and swings across the old woman’s face as she tries to attack him. His face full of rage and Mikey has never seen before. He looks bloodthirsty. And Nana…sweet old Nana…she’s…

Leo’s face drops when he looks into Mikey’s fearful eyes. He quickly drops the wrench and hurries up to his little brother, cupping his face in his large calloused hands.

“...y-you killed her…”, Mikey mutters as tears drop down his face.

“Mikey, I’m sorry.”, Leo hushes, pulling his brother in close.

“Guys, we gotta go.”, Raph calls out, hearing the sirens in the distance.

Leo nods, quickly pulling back from the hug to cup Mikey’s face again and leaning in to get his full attention.

“Mikey, listen to me. It’s not just the O’Neils. But we’re gonna be brave,” the leader assures, “and we’re going to get out of this—”

A big bright light of explosions erupts across the street. Mikey whines as Leo quickly wraps his arms back around his little brother as if to shield him. Donnie and Raph quickly get back in the truck.

“Hey, let’s go! Come on!”, Raph beckons.

“Get in.”, Leo ushers as he pushes Mikey into the back seat with Donnie before heading for the passenger’s seat. 

“Boys?!”, a woman’s voice calls out across the street. Their other neighbor, Denise, hurrying out in her pajamas with a flashlight in hand.

“DENISE YOU GET BACK INSIDE THE HOUSE!”, Leo demands with such vigor and urgency, it makes Mikey flinch. “YOU LOCK YOUR DOORS! NOW!!!”

“C’mon, c’mon, get in!”, Raph calls for his brother, starting up the truck.

Leo quickly gets in as Raph screeches the car around in a U-turn around the cul-de-sac. As the truck turns around, the brothers all hear a croaking groan as the O’Neils (who should be dead) come stumbling out of their house.

“Seatbelts on. Hold on.”, Raph warns.

Raph charges forward with no regard for the elderly couple. The couple that was once so kind to them, surprisingly taking it pretty well when April introduced the mutant turtle brothers to them, now being rammed over and left for dead on the street.

“Jesus Christ, boys!”, Mikey hears Denise gripe as she hurries to check on Kirby lying on the ground. More distance explosions ring out, illuminating Carol as she charges for Denise, ripping her apart. Donnie grabs Mikey’s shoulders and pulls him back around from staring out the back window.

“You take 70—”, Leo guides.

“71, I know.”, Raph spats.

A flock of police cars speed by them at the intersection as the truck turns the opposite direction. After much silence, collecting his thoughts, Mikey finally finds the voice he needs to speak again past the quivering of his lips.

“Guys—”

“We don’t know.”, Leo answers right away.

“They’re saying it’s a virus.”, Donnie supplies. “Some kind of parasite.”

“Is it from some villains?”, Mikey asks, cautious.

“We don’t…know.”, Leo presses.

“Are we sick?”

“No. Of course not.”, Raph assures.

“Why did things blow up?”

His question is unanswered as Leo sighs with frustration, fiddling with the radio.

“No cellphone. No radio.”, he mutters. “A minute ago, the newsman wouldn’t shut up.”

“How do you know?”, Mikey presses for answers again.

“What?”

“How do you know we’re not sick?”

Leo turns to him when he hears the way Mikey’s voice starts to falter. Donnie picks up the question for him.

“They’re saying it’s mostly people in the city.”, the genius of the 4 explains. “That’s why they got the highway blocked off.”

Mikey doesn’t feel too convinced. He just watched the world fall apart all over again. He’s growing tired of being the optimist when it’s nothing but disaster after disaster ever since the turtles were tots. Mikey glances up and sees fire in the distance. A whole house just being burned down into nothing and no firefighters tending to it.

“God…it’s Jimmy’s place.”, Leo comments. The kind farmer who would sometimes share his harvest with the brothers. Mikey liked him. Liked exploring new recipes with him. And now…

Mikey stares at the fiery glow in thought, pondering the events that have happened. Wondering where it all went so wrong.

“...The O’Neils would take Nana into the city.”, he reasons. “To the hospital for stuff.”

“That’s right, they would. That’s probably why.”, Leo nods from up front.

“But…you’d have to go a lot…right?”

Raph glances at Mikey’s tearful face from the rear view mirror. “We’re fine. Trust me.”

“...alright…”, Mikey mutters softly, almost inaudibly.

Sirens ring out, louder and louder. Mikey doesn’t know how much longer he can stand that noise. Or if he’ll even be able to hear it so nonchalantly any more. The brothers have all been on edge over the years, but to ignore the sounds of shrilling children and sirens and gunfire…you can’t come back from that. Even the sudden barking sound of laughter from a passerby is enough to make Mikey jolt.

The brothers come across a family on the side of the road, their car broken down. The father shouts at them, waving his arms wildly for help. Raph slows down the truck. Leo snaps his head at him.

“What are you doing?!”, he hisses.

“They got a kid, Leo.”, Raph gripes.

“We’ve got our own family too. Keep driving.”

“We could put them in the back…”, Mikey supplies. But no one hears him. The father shouts more frantically as the truck passes by them, pleading. Mikey stares at the family through the back window, his eyes pooling up with tears once more.

“...Somebody else will come along.”, Leo mutters.

To see his brothers acting like this…it makes Mikey’s heart shatter. They’re supposed to be heroes. They’re supposed to help everyone in need. What’s changing? Why is everything changing?!

Mikey cries, unable to hold back his fears anymore. Donnie wraps his arm around Mikey’s shoulder and pulls him away from the window, tugging him close in a hug. Mikey sobs harder as he leans into Donnie’s embrace. Raph and Leo glance at each other from the front, a look that says they’re both sorry and racked with guilt. Donnie hushes, murmuring words of comfort as he rubs Mikey’s shoulder up and down. Then Mikey feels something being pressed into his hand.

Leo’s pocket knife. How did Donnie get this? Mikey sniffles, unsheathing the blade and glossing over the beautiful engraving. He looks up at Donnie who gives him a soft reassuring smile. The softshell clasps the knife closed into Mikey’s hand, and the youngest slips it into his pocket.

As the truck continues to drive, the rushing sound of cars honking fills the air. The horizon unveils dead stop traffic packed to the brim on the freeway.

“Fuck! Everybody had the same fucking idea!”, Leo gripes.

Raph slams the horn several times as a few cars try to abort the freeway before they get trapped. “I can’t get through this! Fuck!”

“Alright, alright. Let’s think it through, we’ll think it through.”, Leo stammers. “Alright, take the field. We’ll cut across and pick up on the…on the west side.”

“Yeahyeahyeahyeah. West, west, alright. Alright, hang on.”, Raph babbles, jerking the car a hard right.

As the truck begins to traverse the bumpy grass terrain, a few cars follow as well. Everyone panicking and trying to find somewhere safe from all this chaos. But they get up over the hill to reveal the freeway blocked off by military.

“Shit! Fucking army.”, Leo hisses under his breath.

“Isn’t that good?”, Mikey points out.

“It’s good for them,”, Raph gripes. “But that’s the highway we’re tryin’ to get to.”

A few cars speed past the truck, still determined to find safety. Leo sighs, quickly trying to come up with another plan.

“Alright, keep moving. Head north.”, he suggests.

Raph shakes his head, “Could be a lot of people…”

“Well, we can’t go south…we can’t go east, we can’t go west. Where the hell else are we supposed to go?”

Raph doesn’t answer, biting his lip as he gets lost in thought. Leo loses his patience.

“Raph, come on!”

Raph shakes his head again, slamming on the gas and steering a hard right. The horizon now shows a town in the distance, illuminated by their lights. Leo nods.

“Yeah…Yeah I know that place. This can work.”

“Yeah? But then what?”, Raph asks.

“I don’t know. Detroit. Then Canada. Just far, far as we can.”, the slider insists. “How much gas?”

Raph glances down at it. “Three-quarter tank.”

“Go through town. Then up and cut across Rochester, 90 to Buffalo. Past the border. Then we’re out.”

It sounds like a solid plan. Solid enough, at least. No one is in the mood to argue when Raph and Leo are ready to start grabbing each other by the throat. But a spiraling thought enters Mikey’s mind. Something that makes his blood run cold.

“...Maybe it’s everywhere.”, he speaks up. “Maybe there’s nowhere to go.”

No one answers that, afraid to admit the truth. Then suddenly there is a screeching rumbling noise overhead. Raph snaps his head up at it.

“What the fuck?!”

The noise gets louder and louder still. Donnie flinches, pressing his goggles against his tympanas to block out the noise. Mikey turns to the back window as sees a fleet of commercial planes rushing in for emergency landings, trying to get to somewhere safe. Up ahead, a swarm of cop cars zip by, people running around to seek shelter.

“Son of a bitch, we gotta go around.”, Leo mutters.

“Grab somethin’!”, Raph calls to his brothers.

Without much chance to react, the truck swerves right through an alleyway. Mikey latches on to Donnie’s arm and Donnie holds him in return. The sound of screams and terror fill the air. Another turn, and it’s like they’re in a maze. Cars zig-zagging around any space they can find to navigate the chaos and get away. People running around, alone yet together in their fears.

“Alright, keep going. Keep going.”, Leo assures. But then he hears tires screeching to the left. “SHIT! RAPH!!!”

Another car slams on its brakes to avoid hitting the truck, honking at them. Yet Raph presses the gas more and keeps driving. But he slows down quickly when a swarm of people rush out of a store, some of them grabbing each other and ripping each other apart. Like what…Like what the O’Neils did to Denise.

“Raph, you can’t stop here.”, Leo waves his arm out.

Raph gestures his arm to the crowd. “I can’t drive through ‘em all—”

“Are you serious?! Just keep going!!!”

Raph pushes forward but then suddenly glass shatters. The theater up ahead on the right. Windows broken down as people flood out. Screaming in a panic, screaming with insanity and intent to rip each other open. The crowd blocks the street.

“Go go go.”, Leo mutters. Then his voice rises in urgency. “Back, back, back, BACK, BACK!!”

“Raph’s tryin’!!!”

Raph puts the car in reverse, turning around to look out the back window. He sends a comforting smile to the two younger brothers in the back before focusing on saving his family. 

“Raph, go faster! We gotta go!”, Leo urges.

“Leo, I’m tryin’! There’s nowhere to fuckin’ go!”

“Find an alley!”

“What alley?!”

People run from the scene, hurrying to get out of the way. Two men are wrestling each other in the middle of the street, tossing and turning. Out from the sky, a plane screeches. Tilting and tilting and tilting. The A team is still arguing with each other.

“There’s people everywhere!”

“Roll the fuck over them! We gotta get off this street now!”

“That’s what I’m tryin’ to do, Leo!”

“We’re going to be okay. Just keep driving.”

Mikey still watches the plane closely. Watches as it gets bigger and brighter in view. The panicked civilians take notice too. Mikey whips his head up to the front.

“Guys?!”, he calls out over their bickering.

The two snap their heads up at the plane, realizing the disaster before it even strikes. The brothers become overwhelmed with fear.

“Holy…shit…”, Raph hisses.

“Move…”, Leo beckons. “Move!!!”

The plane heads for the ground, the crowd of people now starting to run the opposite direction as the truck shifts forward again. A few of the people are stopped and tackled to the ground by the sick and insane. Then suddenly the plane nosedives into the ground and explodes into a bright burst of light. Mikey ducks down into Donnie’s arms as the two huddle close together. The force of the impact sending sharp debris to fly at bullet speed for miles. A shrapnel of blades from the plane’s jets crash into the back window and the truck swerves before tumbling over. Mikey screams as he’s crashed against the ceiling.

Then everything goes black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All sound is muffled. Lights are a blur. Mikey barely stirs at the sirens and gunshots ringing out all around. Barely notices what’s happening as his head spins. He hears someone shuffling around the now upside down truck, reaching out for his torso and shaking him.

“Mikey…”, Leo calls out. “Mikey!”

Mikey jolts, his attention coming back quick as sounds flood his tympanas. Leo sighs with the smallest ounce of relief.

“Stay right there. Don’t move.”, Leo orders. He turns around to the driver’s seat. “Raph, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.”, Raph grunts.

“Donnie?”

“Could be better.”, Donnie groans as he crawls out the broken window. “Anyone injured?”

Mikey’s breathing picks up as he starts to remember what’s going on. Despite all that, he leans back and turns around to the shattered back window and peers out into the street. No one was running anymore. Just bodies, a bunch of dead bodies in the street. Fire surrounding the terrain. One…monster was tearing into one of the corpses, stuffing the organs into its face like they haven’t eaten in years.

“Mikey…”, Leo calls to him, grabbing his leg in a bid for his attention. Mikey turns to him. “Don’t look. You look at me, okay?”

Leo helps Mikey move his legs that are twisted underneath (overneath?) the car seats. He winces, holding back tears. He didn’t realize how much pain he is in.

“I’m sorry, hermano, I know, I know.”, Leo soothes. He reaches forward to scoop his baby brother up. “Come here. Put your arms around me.”

Mikey sobs from the pain. As much as he hates being babied by his older brothers, there were some moments, like this one, where he just doesn’t care. He wants them to worry and coddle him. To let them shield him from the traumas and hide away. Just riding out the waves until they wash over.

“Come here, come here.”, Leo ushers as he pulls Mikey in close, choking back tears of his own. “I got you. I got— I got you. I got you.”

Leo drags Mikey out the broken window that Donnie escaped from as the softshell is now on the other side of the truck, helping Raph get out as well. Leo goes to set Mikey down on the ground to which Mikey’s loose and twisted ankle flops. Mikey whines, grasping Leo’s shoulder to keep the weight off of it. Leo takes notice of his pain.

“Are you okay?”

“Mm-mm.”, Mikey shakes his head.

“Are you okay?”, Leo presses again for an answer.

“My ankle.”

“Alright, okay.”, Leo nods, hoisting Mikey up a bit more.

“We gotta get off the street!”, Donnie calls out, reading his rifle.

Suddenly a police car speeds over to them and crashes right into the truck that they were just in moments ago and the engines explode into flames. Leo glances at Mikey for the smallest moment before turning to the flames.

“Donnie?! Raph!!”, he yells.

Framed through the fire, Leo and Mikey could see the others searching around before spotting them. 

“Head to the river! We’ll find a way!”, Raph calls out.

Leo hesitates for a moment and rightfully so. Mikey doesn’t want them to get separated either. They need to stick together.

“Get him outta here, Leo! Go!”

Without leaving room to argue, Raph and Donnie take off running. Leo turns back to Mikey, hoisting him up still.

“W-We can’t leave them!”, Mikey begs.

“They’ll be fine. Can you run?”, Leo asks.

Mikey glances down at his legs, slightly annoyed as if Leo’s already forgotten that his ankle is fucking broken.

“N-no.”

Leo heaves a sigh. Not a moment’s hesitation and he sweeps Mikey off his feet, cradling his little brother close to his plastron. Mikey hates the way he trembles like a leaf in his big brother’s arms.

“You keep your eyes on me.”, Leo demands in a serious tone.

“O-okay.”, Mikey breathes.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“And don’t look anywhere else.”

“No.”

“Alright.”

Mikey wraps his arms around Leo’s neck and ducks his head into his brother’s plastron as Leo holds onto him tighter. Thank pizza supreme for their mutant strength. Leo has no trouble as he runs down the alley, looking for a way out. Mikey peers over Leo’s shoulders for a moment at the fiery crash behind them before ducking his head back down, trying to keep his panicked breathing in check before it makes things worse. But he can’t help the hitches in his voice. The two turn the corner.

And it was a mistake.

Bodies all around, each being torn into by a monster. Some of the corpses are still alive, staring wide eyed and gazes piercing into Mikey’s soul the same way Kirby did. Leo nudges Mikey’s head, making him tear his eyes away. The box turtle obliges, staring down and not daring to look anywhere else. He feels Leo start stumbling back. And then full on sprinting, turning around. Mikey’s eyes glance up for a moment to see one of the monsters standing up and charging after them.

Leo kicks the nearest door in and hurries through as the monster shouts and chases them down. The two duck into a mom-n-pop diner as Leo sprints down the corridor. The monster stumbles over a cart with no regard to itself or its surroundings, solely focused on its target and nothing else. Mikey gasps in fear, frantically grabbing on to Leo’s shirt to hang on tighter. The monster jumps up off a booth to grab them but Leo is faster. The monster collapses onto the ground yet wastes no time getting back up again.

Leo makes his way through the kitchen now, heading for the exit. The monster crashes into a wall of glasses and plates beside them, slowing it down just enough for the brothers to escape. Leo kicks down the exit and sprints across the open field as the monster charges towards them. Mikey whines in fear, clutching his arms around Leo for dear life. The monster is quickly gaining speed. Closer and closer and closer—

BANG!!

The monster falls to the ground with a thud like a ragdoll and Leo stutters to a stop, staring at the damn thing to make sure it’s dead. Mikey heaves as he ducks into Leo’s shoulders, struggling to catch his breath.

“It’s okay, baby brother. You’re safe.”, Leo hushes, holding him closer.

He turns around to keep walking before a light shines over him.

“Don’t move!”

Mikey turns to the light, seeing a soldier point his rifle at them. There’s other military nearby.

“M-My brother’s hurt!”, Leo calls out. “His ankle—”

“Stop right there!”, the soldier commands.

Leo takes a step back, softening his voice. “...Okay. Take it easy. We’re not sick!”

The soldier lowers his weapon, pressing into his walkie. “I got two civilians by the river, one of ‘em injured.” The radio beeps. “Ankle.”

Finally they’re safe. They’re going to be okay. They’re going to make it out of this mess. Mikey breathes, turning to Leo.

“W-w-what about Raph and Donnie?”, his voice quivers.

“We’re going to get you somewhere safe first.”, Leo soothes. “Then we’ll go back for them, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry, repeat?”, the soldier speaks to the radio as if offended. The two snap their heads over to him, Leo stepping closer. The soldier immediately points his rifle up again. “Hey! No one told you to move!”, he warns. Then back to the radio. “Yes, sir.”

A pause.

“Yes, sir.”

And then another. The soldier lowers his rifle.

“...Yes, sir.”

With resolve, the rifle aims at the two again. They don’t even need mind meld to know what’s about to happen. Mikey clings to Leo tighter as Leo starts to step back, shaking his head.

“We’re not sick.”, he pleads. 

The soldier approaches slowly.

“Sir…”

Slowly…

“WE’RE NOT SICK!!!”, Leo screams as he turns around but it’s too late. Rapid shots are and Mikey shrills as the two collapse to the ground, Mikey tumbling away from Leo’s arms.

Mikey gasps and sputters, before he knows it, he’s coughing up blood. His breathing kicks up as his heart races, a burning pain on his side sputtering blood everywhere. He puts his hands on it in a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding but it hurts.

The soldier slowly approaches his brother and Mikey is rendered useless to stop him. Leo turns, putting his hands up.

“I’m sorry.”, the soldier says with an infliction in his tone.

“Please, don’t.”, Leo begs.

A loud gunshot is fired and the soldier collapses to the ground. Raph and Donnie approach with Donnie’s rifle still aimed at the soldier. Leo gets up, lifting his shirt to see that the bullet grazed him in his side. But the older brothers’ eyes are not on him. They’re on Mikey.

“...Oh God…”, Raph breathes.

Mikey tries to get his voice to work but he can’t. He doesn’t have to though, Leo spins around and stares at him too. The medic of the group scrambles over to his little brother.

“Oh no…No, no. No.”, he mutters, shushing Mikey as he approaches. “Okay…You’re okay. Y-You’re okay, move your hand, baby brother. Move your hand.”

Mikey does, gulping as he tries to catch his breath. But he could see it on Leo’s face, he doesn’t have much time left, does he? He could feel himself getting weak. He becomes more panicked. He doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t want to die. He can’t die! Not like this! 

Without a moment’s hesitation, Leo swoops in to pick him up and it hurts like all fucking hell. Like Mikey’s on fire from the inside out. The youngest screams, pushing Leo back instinctively to stop the pain.

“I know, baby boy, I know, I know I know I know.”, Leo babbles. “I know it hurts.”

Mikey glances down, whining as he sees the blood spilling out of him more and more, taking his life with it. Leo presses his hands against Mikey’s wounds.

“Alright. Don’t look down, look up, look up.”, Leo urges. “Come on, Mikey. You’re okay, you’re okay.” His voice crumbles a bit as Mikey pushes him back more. It hurts so bad, he can’t take it anymore.

“I know I know I know I know, baby boy, I know I know.”, Leo babbles again as he becomes covered in his brother’s blood. “I know this hurts. You’re going to be okay. Alright…Mikey…Mikey, Mikey, listen to me.”

Mikey gasps for air that keeps leaving his lungs. He’s becoming tired. He feels the world start to spin, his brother’s voice echoing.

“I gotta get you up, okay?”, Leo urges sternly. “I gotta get you up.” Mikey shakes his head in despair but he knows he’s not getting his way. “Alright? Now, come on. You come on. I know, Mikey.”

Mikey screams in agony as Leo lifts him upright. The box turtle digging his nails into the slider. Trying to resist.

“No, no. I know I know I know I know I know I know.”, Leo repeats again like a broken record, his voice rising in pained urgency as he turns to the older brothers. “DONNIE! RAPH! HELP ME!!!”

Mikey gasps for air once more…but then he stops. All surrounding light fading. All surrounding sound fading. Himself...fading...

.

.

.

The older brothers stare down at the two. Raph already wailing in tears as Donnie stares back at his twin with despair.

“...Leo…”, he murmurs.

Leo pays them no mind, turning back to the youngest. “Come on, baby boy. I gotta get you up. C-Come on.”, he mutters.

But he feels the way Mikey’s body goes limp in his arms, his own dropping down as his head flops back. Eyes blank and slightly closed. He tries to ignore it as he tugs Mikey’s legs closer to scoop him up. Leo’s eyes water without his consent, sniffling and crying.

“Come on, we’ll get up. Come on, baby boy…”, he heaves. “C-....Come on… come— …Please…”

But he knows it. They all know it. Leo wraps his arms around Mikey’s body, rocking him back and forth as if to soothe the aching soul inside. He cradles his little baby brother in close, rocking and rocking and rocking. For he knows. Mikey is just…

Gone.

----------------------------------------

Deadass started crying after writing this and stormed over to my little brother with no context like, "Don't you ever fucking die on me, got it?"

This new AU has me in a chokehold. Dw, it doesn't mean FCAU is not getting any love. I'm finishing that fuck. Plus, there's nothing new and crazy to add to this AU. It follows the exact same script as the show/game. I will be tweaking a few things tho which I'll discuss later. For now. Cry with me. =')

Reblogging helps artists! Same thing applies to writing!

[cheeeerie]

I hate summer I wanna go back to school SO BAD.

Ninjago College AU.

COLE!

He’s a Performing Arts Major with a Geology Minor :)

He doesn’t have many classes with the others, but he has had a couple classes with Nya since their minors have some overlap

Roommates with Jay, suitemates with Zane and Kai

Constantly getting in trouble for breaking quiet hours because he keeps listening to abba at 3 am

His dad is a dance professor. Cole tries desperately not to take any of his dad’s classes but he had to for his major eventually, he spends the entire time pretending he doesn’t know his dad while Lou is like “EVERYONE LOOK HOW TALENTED MY SON IS!”

Gets the most out of his meal plan. He’s in the dining hall three times a day.

Part time barista. Pretty good one too, but he keeps sleeping late and getting fired

KAI!

Sports Management Major with a Primary Education Minor

He has to take a lot of business classes for his major and he HATES all his business major classmates

He has classes with Lloyd, since his minor is Lloyd’s major

Roommates with Zane, suitemates with Cole and Jay

Every time there’s a health and safety check he sends Zane to the door to stall while he hurriedly hides all his lighters and candles. Never gets in trouble with the RA because Zane is great at stalling.

Takes FOREVER in the shower, Jay is always pounding on the door cause he has to pee. Kai repays him by banging on the walls when Jay and Cole are being way to loud in the middle of the night.

He coaches kids karate part time, plus whatever odd jobs he can find, since he’s paying for all of this himself

JAY!

Electrical Engineering Major, Digital Arts Minor

Has classes with Nya cause they’re both in engineering, plus he shares a minor with Pixal so they have a ton of class overlap.

Roommates with Cole, Suitemates with Zane and Kai

Cole and Jay have their beds bunked so Cole has room to dance and Jay has room for his gaming set-up. Jay streams, and very often Cole will just be practicing choreography in the background.

He doesn’t have a job, but he still has all the best stuff cause his parents send frequent care packages. They make sure to include goodies for everyone else too, though :)

Gets in trouble for having contraband CONSTANTLY. Do you know how many times this man has almost burned the entire dorm hall down in an electrical fire??? At least four times. Plus he’s always loudly playing video games during quiet hours.

lives on instant noodles, which he makes in his hot pot, which he is definitely not supposed to have

ZANE!

Computer Science Major with a Philosophy Minor

Has classes with Jay and Pixal because of the computer stuff, plus some classes with Lloyd because their minors have a lot of overlap.

Roommates with Kai, suitemates with Jay and Cole.

He has a lot of cooking supplies that he isn’t supposed to have, but he’s very careful so he doesn’t get caught.

Makes THE BEST dorm food, has the gang over for dinner pretty frequently.

Makes dean’s list basically every semester, man writes a hell of a paper

Sleeps like a rock, so Jay and Cole being loud all the time doesn’t bother him. He doesn’t even notice Kai banging on the walls and telling them to shut up.

He and Kai don’t bunk their beds, they each have their own side of the room. Zane’s side is very organized and well decorated. Kai’s side is a trash fire. Zane doesn’t touch the trash fire he just gently nudges is to Kai’s side of the room.

Whenever Kai stays the night somewhere else Zane washes Kai’s sheets. That is the only time Kai’s sheets get washed.

He has an on-campus job in the library

LLOYD!

Secondary Education Major with a double Minor in Psychology (because he’s traumatized) and theology (because his grandpa is god)

He’s actually still 17, he graduated early because he hated high school and wanted to be with his friends who are all older than him

He lives off campus in an apartment with his dad and step-dad, but the commute isn’t far and he stays the night at Kai and Zane’s dorm a lot

He has a lot of classes with Kai since they’re both in education, plus his theology minor and Zane’s philosophy minor have a lot of overlap so they have classes together too

He’s such an over achiever, he’s in the library studying day and night

He wanted to get a job but his dad said no because he already works too hard in school

He’s group baby. He once convinced the gang to take him with them to a party but they all just ended up baby sitting him the whole time. They ran a full investigation on every drink he was handed and stood behind him like body guards every time someone talked to him

NYA!

Mechanical Engineering Major, Coastal Environmental Science Minor

Roommates with Pixal, I haven’t decided if they have suitemates/who it would be

Her and Pixal’s room is decorated PERFECTLY.

She has a lot of classes with Jay, plus some with Cole because of their minors are both natural sciences. Her and Pixal have a ton of classes together because they have the same major

She has a pet fish in her dorm named Nyad :) Kai thinks that name is stupid

“You can’t name your pet after yourself” “I didn’t name her after myself I named her after Nyad” “who you’re named after” “…listen here you little shit—”

The boys stay the night at Nya and Pixal’s all the time, sometimes even all five of them at once, but they never get in trouble. Nya thinks it’s because she’s so sneaky.

It’s actually because Pixal writes most of the RA’s papers.

Nya is on the school’s swim team, but she hates it. She’d quit if she could, but she’s there on a swim scholarship and she can’t afford to pay for school herself.

PIXAL!

Mechanical Engineering Major, Digital Arts Minor

Nya’s roommate

She’s constantly making things to make everyone’s lives just a little easier

She’s like the princess of the tech/engineering department, every professor wants her as a TA soooo bad, both because of who her father is AND because she’s insanely talented

She’s surprisingly artistic. Well, it’s a surprise to her, no one else is surprised, they just expect her to be good at everything at this point. Makes some very pretty things in the design classes she has to take for digital arts

She doesn’t need the money (her father is seriously filthy rich) but she works at a mechanic shop part time for fun. Whatever money she makes she uses to buy things for the rest of the gang

President’s list

Fuck I accidentally hit the poll button and it won’t let me get rid of it ummm uhhh

[ezlo-x]

Hi everyone I’m considering opening commissions again soon Ik I said I wasn’t going to open them again for a while. I am a little financially tight especially when it comes to art supplies for my classes, I need new sketchbooks as the once I used in my previous semesters are in their final pages. The previous money that I gained from previous commissions had to be spent on paying a portion of my classes so I am back on square one.

With the current situation with Twitter I don’t feel to motivated to promote my stuff there anymore as everyone is leaving and migrating somewhere else. I still need to figure out how to use Instagram.

But yeah I’ll probably open commissions again this weekend. I’ll open 6 slots three of each, would love to open more but I do have other things to focus and I feel like it will be a little easier for me to take small amounts at a time.

Another update I am almost done with the lineart of my comic which I am very eager to finish. These final pages have been fun and been a breeze. Hopefully I get to finish the linework and start coloring. For sure I’ll create a digital file for ppl to purchase and look through it along with some behind the scenes stuff, before publishing 10 pages each week on my au side blog.

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Heya! I just wanna first say I REALLY like your writing and it's so so cool to see some TD stuff on tumblr TwT the community is so small still so you are doing gods work here!!

I'm interested in a TD match up (possibly OM too if ur up to it!! either way idm<33)

- Name: Jay (nicknames: Bread, bug, jäyssi)

- pronouns: They/them

- sexuality: still figurin it out but I lean more towards men but also sometimes find women attractive too, non binary ppl are always a yes

- Zodiac/mbti: Cancer, ISFP-T

- appearance: 165cm tall, brunette ass lenght hair I usually just slick back using my headphones as a hairband. Always wearing noise cancelling headphones and prefer a more alternative style, almost also teetering to a 90's jock vibes :P small round sunglasses my beloved. Big love to suede leather bomber jackets and ripped jeans.

- Personality: Very empathetic, more of a listener than talker (unless it comes to my interests in which case I yap!!) Can come off as a bit monotone (I have alexithymia which causes emotions to be hard for me). I'm told I'm super approachable and comforting ^^" I get very excited over the little things and can be quite optimistic. I react quite badly to rejection or even the smallest failures.

- likes and dislikes: I LOVE snails, dandelions(my fav flower<33), anything mango flavored winter, art, everything and anything fluffy and listenin to music! I DISLIKE almost all fruits, summer, blood/gore (hemofobia), cooking (cooking anxiety), worded instructions.

- hobbies: I draw/paint digitally and traditionally. I always carry a sketchbook around everywhere :] I also really like going on easy hikes on forest trails as well as amateur photography!!

- extra info: I have autism/ADD so social stuff might suck and I can be very slow at times when it comes to learning stuff.

(If you're not currently doing matchups, please feel free to ignore this <3)

Hi Jay! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took a while. I hope you like your matchups!

In Tokyo Debunker, I match you with...

You and Towa make a good combination since you’re both good listeners and talkative at different times. When one of you is talking, the other is listening intently.

You like dandelions? Oh, Towa’s perfect for you! He’s always bringing you dandelions whenever he visits and plants them nearby so he has a constant supply.

I see him as someone who’s a fan of summer as well. He likes the feeling of the sun on his skin and enjoys going on walks through the Jabberwock fields with you.

He thinks it’s really cute that you have a fondness for fluffy things. There are plenty of those around Jabberwock and he’ll happily show them to you, as long as you show him some affection as well. His hair’s pretty fluffy after all…

Towa also thinks it’s really cute that you get so excited over little things. He thinks that sort of enthusiasm is much needed in the world and it’s lovely being around you.

In Obey Me, I match you with...

Simeon was first drawn to you because of your comforting presence. And the more time he spent with you, the more he fell for you.

Much like Towa, Simeon thinks it’s sweet how excited you get over little things. He feels he doesn’t have to hide his own excitement when he’s around you.

He’s a very creative person himself so he loves sitting by you when you paint or draw. He likes being around the creative process since it makes him feel inspired as well.

I can definitely see him as someone who likes photography and would really enjoy going on walks with you where you each take a camera and compare photos when you get back.

Simeon’s pretty good in the kitchen himself so as long as you don’t mind the company, he’d love to join you. If you prefer cooking by yourself, he’ll happily just have some of whatever delicious food you’ve whipped up.

[greyscalegreyhound]

Aftermath Mandela Catalogue AU

Creator: Gabriel (greyscalegreyhound)

What happens if both Adam and Jonah made it out alive? After all the events they have gone through for years past have finally come to an end. They are finally free of the burden of hunting alternates and being apart of the BPS. But what about the aftermath of it all? How do the two of them feel? How with they both behave? Are they still close to each other as friends? Or is their relationship permanently strained?

This AU is still in the works and I will be drawing Jonah’s and Adam’s deigns for this AU when I get my digital art supplies up and running. (For like the third time.) I do have some boundaries with this AU so please read this post throughly. ^^

Can do:

• Make fan art (all of it is so appreciated)

• Make headcanons that still fit some of the storyline

• Draw gore but not heavy or anything as it can be a trigger to some

• Take inspiration from this AU but don’t take the idea all together (that’s stealing, come on)

• Write fanfics about them as long as their is no shipping involved (they are just friends)

Can’t do:

• Ship Adam and Jonah together as I want to respect Ty’s and Gabe’s boundaries

• Draw any sort of NSFW art

• Write any type of NSFW fanfic as they are not friend’s with benefits

• Take this idea and turn it into yours

That’s really about it! Keep in mind that I do not support Alex Kister. He’s a terrible person and I don’t stand by him. I like The Mandela Catalogue as a series but I don’t have to like the creator. I will do my best to respect Ty and Gabe’s boundaries. Please someone tell me if I accidentally step over them. Also if this AU name is already in use, PLEASE tell me. I will think of another name.

- Gabriel

[wandering-koyote]

Mystery Custom Stocking Adopts OTA [CLOSED]

‼️ You may choose the species! ‼️

A [CLOSED] B [CLOSED] C [CLOSED] D [CLOSED]

🍁 Base Price: $15

🍂 OTA [offer to adopt] Mystery Egg Info 🍂

- The more you offer, the more detailed the adopt will be! - Base price will be the most simple, being a chibi. - The adopt or the adoptable sheet will get more and more complex and detailed in design the more you offer! 

💌 PAY TO ADOPT 💌 🔸Offering above the base price will get you more art by your request of the character! I can add on to the sheet, draw a portrait, or more depending on your offer! If you offer more than the base price, I can also make adjustments to the character designs.

🔸You may also offer me art trades on top of your purchase to add more character art slots onto your trade. Say, base price + crochet craft (or whatever you want to trade for) = reference + additional art of this character! The amount and style of art depends on your offer!

💌 TRADE TO ADOPT 💌

✔️ You may offer to trade for the character design.  Ask me and I’ll let you know if I’m interested! If I don’t want to trade for what you have to offer, you may still purchase the character.

You CAN offer: ✔️ Custom Digital Art ✔️ Custom Traditional Art ✔️ Custom / Pre-Made Crafts —crochet, clay, needle-felting, etc ✔️ Custom / Pre-Made Plushies —hand-made, custom-made, or unused / new ✔️ Art Supplies —yarn, clay, roving wool, faux fur, gauche, etc

I most likely will NOT accept:  ❌ Character designs ❌ Art not of my OCs ❌ Absolutely no NSFW art

🍂 You may also offer me art trades on top of your purchase to add more character art slots onto your trade. The amount and style of art depends on your offer! 🍂

‼️ I have the right to refuse trades. ‼️

❕❕You MUST send me examples of what you would trade if it’s going to be custom. You must send me a photo or link to a product if it is pre-bought. I usually prefer to have art done of my OCs, so send me an example of your art and you can create a new piece if I accept! ❕❕

❕❕I prefer payment offers but will accept trades if I see them fit! ❕❕

🍁 I usually wait a few days to see a few offers and decide which one I want to take, if any. 🍁

💌 PAYMENT / TERMS 💌

🍄 I take payments preferably through VenMo, though PayPal also works. Payment must be made within three days or I’ll open up the adopt again. 🍄

🍁 You will receive a high quality PNG upon ownership. 🍁

🍂 You may update and change the deigns of the characters however you’d like once you become its owner. You may also resell them. 🍂

🌙 Comment or DM me to claim! 🌙

[kariachi]

Who wants nearly 3500 words of Kevin and Irene's first meeting and date?

Doesn't matter, you're getting it anyway, they're precious.

~~

“Oh, that’s a good one!”

It was probably a good thing that Kevin started at the statement, his shrink would have things to say about ‘getting past the need for hyper-awareness’, but he still felt like a fucking idiot. Adjusting his grip on the book in his hand, he turned his attention to the Lenopan who had just a few minutes ago joined him in the aisle. Done up in contrasting colors like a poison dart frog, they seemed to have realized they’d said that out loud and retracted their mass in embarrassment.

“I hope so,” he found himself saying, “the selection out here’s normally pretty crap.” That was the problem with moving to a new station, if there were stores for something it was probably only one and it probably was casting a wide net. With a galaxy so varied as the Milky Way, that meant it was harder to find, say, any one book that fit your tastes.

“Tell me about it,” they said, desaturation rolling swiftly over their body. “Irveh has an amazing grasp of words though, and the poems were written in Gal Standard so you don’t get any of the issues that come with translations.” Kevin blinked. He hadn’t known that, and it definitely affected his opinion.

“Awesome. Translating’s rough, I know, but fuck is it nicer to read something in the original language.”

“You lose something in the cultural differences,” they said with a bob of the head, “but not in language ones. Seriously though, the one on page… Frick… Can I?” Reaching out a bit of mass, they gratefully accepted the book and flipped to the table of contents in the back. “Yes! Page sixty-two. I spent at least five minutes splayed out on the floor, you’d think I’d been dropped there.”

“Probably shouldn’t read it now then, huh?”

“I can guard the aisle for you.” Kevin gave a snorting laugh as he took the book back, prompting a chuckle from the Lenopan.

“Wouldn’t waste your time.”

“Lucky you, there's next to nothing here worth sorting through so I have it to spare.” Their colors shifted to something a touch more desaturated. “I want to support local businesses, but…” Huffing a sigh, Kevin nodded.

“But they gotta at least try to meet a fucker halfway.”

“At least we’ve got a bookstore though,” the Lenopan admitted with a sigh. “I keep having to order my art supplies on the ethernet and that gets expensive.” Immediately Kevin’s interest was piqued. He’d been enjoying the conversation before, but didn’t meet other artists in person very often. Mostly because he’d only begun openly working on his art again when he moved out there and, well, no supply store to meet people at. Tucking the book under his arm, he smiled widely at them.

“What sorta art do you do?” Their colors shifted again, richening with the new topic.

“Photography and painting, sometimes sketchwork. Most of my stuff is digital anymore but, sometimes you just need to slap some paint on a canvas, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” Not specifically paint, but he knew. “I got back into sculpting a few years ago and depending on what I’m making getting new materials is a fucking bitch.” Metals he could do, there was a place for parts on the outer rim of the station, but wood, glass, stone? All had to be ordered in if he didn’t want to pull from preexisting work.

“Oh? I haven’t met a sculptor since college. What mediums do you work in?”

“Mostly metal and stone, you’d be amazed what you can do with that stuff, and some of the colors you can get.” Whoever had said stone was just boring grey had been an idiot and possibly colorblind. The Lenopan bobbed their head again.

“I’ve had to do metallics on commission before, the range can be amazing.” Kevin chuckled with a nod.

“And I’m guessing that was without heat treatments. Steel does awesome stuff over a fire.”

“Really? Cool! I’d love to see, if you have pictures?” Without even a second thought- and wouldn’t that hit him later, that he hadn’t had a second though about getting close- Kevin pulled out his tablet and went searching for a piece as he moved to their side. Eventually he settled on a butterfly Rad had commissioned for his mother, colored in a host of yellows, blues, and purples.

It struck him, as they ooed and ahhed over his work- far more than he felt it deserved, he could see a million problems he wished he could reach into the picture and fix- that he didn’t know who the fuck this was. They were a painter and a photographer who liked poetry and was also annoyed with the lack of shopping options on the station, that was it. But here he was, showing off his art. For a moment the thought that not having names was good darted across his mind like a spooked deer, but he shoved it back.

“Kevin Levin, by the way,” he said. “Pronouns he/him/his.” The Lenopan’s attention was pulled from commending the detail he’d managed to Kevin himself. They tilted their head, just slightly, and a ripple of discordant color change flashed over their body.

“Middle name Tevin, maybe Jevin?” He snorted.

“Ethan.” There was enough quiet for a heartbeat before they broke into gurgling chortles.

“Kevin E. Levin,” they said, “the man is a pun.”

“What can I say-” Kevin grinned and shrugged- “-I’ve got good taste.”

“Yes, you do,” they continued to laugh, something going light in Kevin’s chest at the approval. Before the pun had been his mom’s choice and so he’d been pitied, but anymore people, sometimes affectionately, judged him for keeping it. “Irene Beyer, pronouns she/her/hers.” Ah, one of the Earth population. The head tilt had had him wondering, he didn’t know if it was a general Lenopan thing. But there were more important things, like the name being familiar.

“'Irene'. Like, ‘Princess and the Goblin’ Irene?” She perked up like she’d just won a prize, tendrils wriggling, colors going wild and bold.

“Yes! Exactly! Nobody ever knows it!”

“It was everywhere when I was little,” he said. The Princess and the Goblin, plus its sequel, were among the books his mom used to read to him, and his dad had of course been going to buy him the movie where singing and music held the power that saved the day. “I don’t think I’ve ever met somebody whose name was pronounced like that though.” Irene drew herself up proudly.

“Well, somebody other than you had to have taste.” Feeling that much more comfortable, Kevin burst into snorting laughter, Irene following behind with her gurgling tones. More than likely they attracted the attention of anyone else in the small store at that point, but neither gave any indication of noticing or caring. As they died down, Irene sunk back into herself, colors toning down. Her tendrils kept wriggling though.

“Um… It’s getting to get that time,” she said, “…can I buy you lunch?” As he caught his breath, Kevin considered the offer. When was the last time he’d been on a date that hadn’t involved him flirting out of hunger prior to it? Since leaving Gwendolyn he’d been a lot more focused on his mental health than on his love life and only had a sparse few attempts at relationships. But, he was enjoying himself, Irene seemed nice, and most importantly he was comfortable.

Standing tall, he grinned down at her.

“Lead the way.”

~~

Did he shoplift the book rather than waste time not talking to her? Yes. Did she say anything about it? No.

~~

They ended up at one of the annoying number of restaurants on the station in comparison to things like art supply stores. An Appoplexian place that sold the most unctuous braised meat Kevin’d had outside of Osmosian cooking and a fried fish so hard you had to soak it in soup or crack it like bone. He ordered both sorts plus the meat- he'd gone hungry too often in his youth to pass up a chance to load on calories and no matter what anyone said any pudge he managed was a gift- while Irene went for the meat, soupy fish, and something akin to a British pudding Kevin had never bothered to try.

“So,” Irene asked as their waiter, a young Lewodan, left with their orders, “um, what do you do for work?” In a heartbeat Kevin decided to have some fun.

“I’m a spy,” he said, pulling on all his con experience to not grin while he did it. Not that it mattered, it was a wild lie and Irene smirked as she leaned partly over the table.

“Why do I not believe you?”

“Just an untrusting soul, I guess.” He shook his head sorrowfully as he said it. “Major character flaw.” She just chuckled.

“If you get to be a spy, then I get to be a model.” Snorting, Kevin let the smile back out.

“I bet you’ve been in every major magazine.” Irene hummed.

“I mean, technically… My work has been in a lot.”

“Wait, really?" Kevin was honestly a little impressed. “What sorta work?”

“I’ve done some freelance photography,” she said, drawing in again, “but most of the time it’s just ads and things. I’m a graphic designer by trade so… Most of what I put out is logos and posters, stuff like that. I do commissions on the side sometimes though.”

“Cool. Remind me to buy something off you sometime.” Snorting, Irene flashed brighter colors for an instant.

“At least see my art first.” She pulled out a tablet- from where Kevin had never asked Lucy and didn’t intend to ask her- and poked through it a moment before sliding it across the table at him. He couldn’t help a small whistle as he flipped through the folder she’d brought up. She clearly played heavily with mixing colors, outside of a few simpler pieces he assumed were day-job related, and seemed to prefer broad, textured strokes. A closer look showed a propensity towards swirls that he vaguely remembered maybe being a facet of traditional Lenopan art? One pair of nearly identical images felt entirely different because, he realized, one using swirls and curves to give it a lightness and sense of movement while the other felt heavier and still with only, in truth, straight lines.

“Yeah, I’m buying something,” he said, flashing his throat as he gave the tablet back. “You’re good.”

“I- Thank you,” she said, stowing the tablet away again. “I’ve been drawing and painting for as long as I can remember. Even went to school for it.”

“I considered that,” Kevin said, “but I never ended up doing college so…” He shrugged. Gwendolyn had encouraged him to go, but the only things he was interested in learning more of had been the arts, which he had been uncomfortable engaging with openly at the time. It had all felt very private, and he’d known that Gwendolyn would have expected to, insisted on, being allowed to engage with his work. When he’d left he’d moved to the Saturn Station and, well, it wasn’t worth the effort of ethernet classes, even if he was already doing therapy that way. “Mostly I do engineering, some writing and sculpting on the side.” He chuckled. “I’ve been considering combining the sculpting and the machines. When I was little I always wanted to do practical effects like in movies, the animatronics and stuff. Figure it can’t hurt to give it a try.”

“You should! If that butterfly was any indication you’re really good at the sculpting part, and if you’re engineering without a degree you’ve got to be good at that too. You could be the next big thing!” Irene’s colors got more saturated as she went, perking up and tendrils going again.

“Can you imagine,” Kevin laughed. “Finally make a fucking name for myself.” Outside of the crime, at least. Irene didn't have to know about the crime. If things got serious she’d have to, but he had no intention of scaring her off just yet. “Not getting recognized isn’t so bad though. I’ve got buddies everybody knows and they’re always bitching about it. Well, expect for Argit, but he could turn a mosquito bite into a mountain, get a publishing deal for being the first one on it, and get me to write the book for him.” Chortling as their drinks arrived, Irene mirrored him in a polite ‘thank you’ before asking

“Why do I think I’d like him?”

“He’s a complete asshole,” he said, taking a long sip of his soda as she dipped some of her mass into her own to soak it up. “He’s also my oldest friend, first mate, and the most reliable guy I know on a personal level so long as his tail’s not on the line.” Her head tilted again, slight tension in her mass.

“‘First mate’?” Oh, he hadn’t even been thinking…

“I don’t have kids,” Kevin assured, “not yet at least, but…” For a moment he questioned whether to admit to being Osmosian. The information wasn’t hard to find, but well over a decade of people enslaving him had made him wary. He’d started this though, and he wanted to trust her. “I’m Osmosian, we take a lot of mates at a time, share rights and responsibility for any kids. Sorta we’re married? Not like, legally but...” The tension drained away, tendrils giving a wriggle.

“We do the same sort of thing, but it’s not considered a marriage of any kind and sires don’t really have a right to their children.” That made things so much easier.

“Is there anybody I should know about?”

“Not right now,” she said. “I’ve always been kind of… wary, with my dating choices.”

“And you went for me?!?” Clapping a hand over his mouth, Kevin went red. He had not intended to say that aloud. Even if it was a valid question. He'd seen himself. Irene tucked herself away again.

“You seem nice, and fun, funny, smart. And unlikely to try to murder any of my other suitors.” For a long moment, Kevin was silent, mouth hanging open.

“I will try not to- did that actually happen to you?!”

“Not to me,” Irene said, her colors evening out as she leaned in, Kevin mirroring her as was proper with gossip, “but my uncle’s other brother’s cousin. She started seeing a human Plumber and her other suitor lost his shit. I mean, yeah he was a Plumber and this was right at the end of the whole feud, and the only other human I know of that courted a member of our community was a complete asshole, but still. Bit of an overreaction to somebody deciding to be serious with somebody.” As she spoke, things clicked into place in Kevin’s mind.

“You wouldn’t happen to know a Lucy Mann, would you?” She went still, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“Yessss.” Figured.

“Yeah, the human side of that family can be iffy. My clan and my mom’s are this far from starting a feud with them themselves.” Irene sighed.

“I wish I was surprised. I mean, she did follow in her grandpa’s footsteps and become a Plumber of all things. People are still talking about it, the only positive comparison to her I’ve ever gotten is I don’t associate with them.” Kevin cringed.

“How close does it have to be to be ‘associating’?” She slumped.

“Tell me you’re not a Plumber.”

“I'm not,” he assured her, “I was pressured into becoming one like a decade ago but I only lasted like three months before I quit. Couldn’t do it, nearly ate my boss.” A chuckle, a good sign. “I’ve got like five relatives who used to be Plumbers too, but the only one who didn’t quit was my dad and he both died and only joined because he’d received a holy vision about dying.” Her eyes went wide.

“Damn.”

“Yep.”

“And the others?”

“My mom joined as a mole for her gang after they threatened to toss her in prison and quit after my dad died, my other mom joined normally but quit after like six years when she found another job she could feed my brother with that wasn’t morally bankrupt, my brother joined because he wanted to be like mom and dad and quit when his partner died, hated every minute of the job, and my cousin Molly joined as a mole to keep an eye on that side of Lucy’s family because I was dating one, quit as soon as we broke up.”

“I repeat, damn.” Irene heaved a sigh. “If this lasts my family is going to throw their biggest fit yet.” Kevin snorted despite himself.

“So, we’re good, despite the history?” She drew herself up, colors going monotone in seriousness.

“Depends, what’s your opinion on the Plumbers as a whole?” Oh that was easy, his opinion had been drug around a while as life battered him in every direction, but in the end…

“Corrupt, ineffectual, bigoted by design, untrustworthy. Looking back, I can’t believe I dated someone who liked them nonetheless became one.” He chalked it up to just how shit his mental health had been at the time, combined with social pressure and expectations from the Tennysons. Whatever the cause of the base issue, his words caused tension to fall off Irene in buckets this time, color returning to her mass as she gave him a smile.

“Then we’re good, as long as that’s the case. And you’re okay knowing my family’s probably never going to like you as a result.” Kevin shrugged.

“I’ve been hated for worse reasons. How often can I expect it to come up?”

“Well, I moved out here,” she said, throwing a gaze around the place, “and they’re still on Earth, so… For my species, this is about two steps from just disowning them entirely.”

“So, they’re assholes.”

“They’re assholes.” Nodding, Kevin sat back in his seat and took another sip of his drink.

“Okay. Assholes I can deal with.” He smiled at her. “Promise as long as you treat me well you’ll probably make a good impression on my family.” Irene gave her gurgling chortle again.

“But will I make a good impression on your mate?” Kevin snorted, perking as the waiter headed over with their food.

“Treat me well and buy him jewelry, you’ll be set.” The table became awash with ‘thank you’s alongside pleased rumbles and purrs as lunch arrived. Immediately Irene downed her pudding with a slow swallow he could only describe as luxurious, while Kevin set to work tearing his meat into pieces he could lay over his fish. “So, got any pets?” Her colors dimmed slightly.

“No, I’m in one of the blocks that doesn’t allow them. I’d trade one of my sisters for one though. I have three, it's fine.”

“Lucky them I’ve got a baskurr, then, huh,” he chuckled, warming at the way she perked back up.

“See, I knew asking you out was a good move-”

~~

Kevin could feel a deep purr rolling in his stomach alongside lunch as the two of them exchanged contact information. It had been a while since he’d been on a proper date, and longer still since he’d been on a date with somebody he took to this readily and this fondly. Irene’d was fun, sweet, so smart, and aside from the brief Plumber situation hadn’t judged him on a single thing. Even eating that fish like it was a cracker. It had been nice, chill, in a way that still felt fresh when it happened.

Certainly didn’t hurt he was even then thinking of what he would use to get the rich, bold colors she was showing in a piece.

“Call you tomorrow,” he asked, mindful of the plans she’d mentioned that evening and the nap she intended to go home and take.

“Text me,” she said, “my schedule can get weird and, it’s just easier that way.” Nodding, Kevin stowed his tablet away and gave her a smile he hoped warmed her like the pleased wriggling of her tendrils did him.

“‘kay, I’ll make sure to.” With a not-negligible amount of effort he took a step back. “See ya, Princess. Sleep tight.”

“I’ll try to avoid any peas,” she chortled with a little shake of her head. “See ya, Kevin.”

The smile wouldn’t leave his face as he turned and walked away, heading for the rim of the station on a few more errands. He already wanted to see her again. But no, she had things to do, he had things to do, and he didn’t want to come off as creepy. He could wait, text her maybe around dinner, just to say hi. There was a Khoron romantic drama playing in a few days, he could invite her out to see it with him, pay her back for lunch. Until then he had errands, projects, and a brand-new book to read.

He got the feeling he was going to love it.

[ghostpal]

About/FAQ

About:

My name is Ghost, They/Them(masc), 1996, USA-CST Time zone

Main tags I use :) : A draw, ghost chatter, ccbagt, lunar blast au, Ghost made this, fazzoo au, off book au

:( : cw suggestive, cw threats, cw weapon

Important things you need to keep in mind:

I’m in university and I have a job so I'm wicked swamped and have a weird work schedule a lot of the time. 

I love interacting with folks, I’m just shy.

Some personal things I’m willing to share:

I am vegetarian, autistic, and adhd. I am Queer. I have a degree in 3D animation and visual effects with a focus in graphic design. I have a minor in Grief, Death, and Dying. I am pursuing a degree in accounting. One of my greatest fears is overemphasizing my perceived importance to others.

My special interests:

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach Sun and Moon Squishmallows Thanatology My OCs Bluey

Questions:

What drawing supplies do you use?

for traditional art, literally just a walmart sketchbook and a pencil, any pen i have on hand usually. I have a preference for .5mm writing utensils. 

For digital, It depends on the day but i mostly use an ipad and procreate but until i got procreate, i only used medibang. still a big fan! my canvas size is 6x6in, 300 dpi and i mainly use the syrup brush. 

You use weird turns of phrase and language, where are you from?

Its the Autism

I see you talk about your job a lot and mention patients. what do you do?

I deliver food in a hospital.

You’re so social, i can’t believe you’re shy!

OH BUDDY I’m wicked shy pal, i just also have learned that no one gives a FUCK about what i’m doing or sees me as weird as I see me so its totally freeing. also, the worst thing that can happen is someone just doesn’t vibe with me and that’s fine.

Didn’t you run a hetalia blog

hush

Where did x post go?

I probably deleted it. I try to keep this blog tidy so I tend to delete asks, reblogs, and ghost chatter posts after a bit. If it was something super nice, I probably privated it.

Where else can I find you?

Honestly if you search artsyfartsybro just about anywhere, you’ll find me. I have been trying to transition to YouPalGhost though so try that too. I only stream on twitch under YourPalGhost.. My blog i reblog everything to is artsyfartsybro1

Can I Dm you?

I prefer my dms be reserved for mutuals and/or folks 18 and up. I have no issue with kids really but for my own comfort, I try to keep interactions with yall in asks only. If you're a mutual, you can totally ask for my Discord though.

I don’t like that you post x

well i have good news for you: you are responsible for curating your online experiences. just block me and move on.

thanks for reading <3

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I only have ten episodes left of The Bugle, which is not enough episodes. I realize that even once I finish them, they’ll continue putting out new ones most weeks, it’s not going away forever. But when I started it over a year ago now, there were hundreds of episodes, and it felt like an infinite supply. I am now on the precipice of having a single digit number of episodes before I run out.

I’m thinking I may start cutting them with episodes of the Comedian’s Comedian podcast, to make them last longer. I said I’d go back to that after I finish The Bugle, but I might throw a few in now.

I downloaded a bunch of episodes of that podcast last fall, and got through about half of them before I had a small hiccup in that plan and needed to not hear Stuart Goldsmith’s voice for a while. But I still have that second half of those initially downloaded episodes. Today, I went back and downloaded a few more episodes, with comedians in whom I’ve become more interested since last fall.

My list of comedians I have heard/want to hear on the Comedian’s Comedian podcast isn’t exactly the same as a list of my favourite comedians. There’s significant overlap between the two lists, but it’s not a perfect match. A few reasons for that: 1) There are some comedians whose comedy I really enjoy, but I’m not all that interested in hearing them pontificate on a podcast. 2) The Comedian’s Comedian podcast mainly talks about how they craft their stand-up shows, so even if I really like a comedian from TV and/or podcasts, if I’m not too familiar with their stand-up, I probably won't get much out of their Comedian’s Comedian episode. Some exceptions, though. There are a few people on that list whose stand-up I haven’t been able to find, but I’m still really interested in hearing them pontificate. 3) There are a few comedians I really like so I searched for their Comedian’s Comedian podcast episode, and they haven’t done one.

Having said that, with those exceptions, my downloaded episodes of that podcast is a pretty good list of the comedians I like best, and certainly find most interesting. A list of the comedians I most want to hear talk for an hour or more about their own writing/performing process and thoughts on comedy as an art and/or industry.

Episodes of the Comedian’s Comedian podcast I’ve already heard:

- Rhod Gilbert

- Susan Calman

- Ed Byrne

- David O’Doherty

- Andy Zaltzman

- Josie Long

- Nish Kumar

- Tim Key (x2)

- Mark Watson

- Dara O’Briain

- Mae Martin

- Isy Suttie

- Angela Barnes

- Joe Lycett

- Russell Howard

- Fern Brady

- Paul Chowdhry

- Stewart Lee

- Hannah Gadsby

- A few episodes that I hate-listened to out of morbid curiosity, but they don’t need to taint my actual list by being named

Episodes of the Comedian’s Comedian podcast I’ve downloaded but haven’t heard yet:

- Paul Sinha (x2)

- Claudia O’Doherty

- Bridget Christie

- Mark Steel

- Hari Kondabolu

- John Robins

- Tom Ballard

- Jo Brand

- Michael Legge

- Sarah Kendall

- Jen Brister

- Rose Matafeo

- Alice Fraser

- Chris Addison

- Ahir Shah

- Chris Flemming

- Desiree Burch

- Helen Zaltzman

- Jordan Brookes

- Rosie Jones

- Sarah Keyworth

Well, that’s a lot to be getting on with, so I guess it will be some time before I have to decide what other thing I’ll listen to next. If I worked through all these in a row, then by the time I finish, they’d have put enough new Bugle episodes so I wouldn’t be in as imminent danger of running out.

[vangoghcoffeeco]

Personal rambles-

I’m looking at pursuing an art history degree online. I am keenly aware that if I make myself available at home, then I’ll have to have the same amount of housework. If I don’t do the housework though, no one will. So that sucks but I have to acknowledge it. If I do online, I have more free time for me. I don’t do well with other peoples scheduling, I work better on my schedule. It would give me more flexibility to pursue my art career outside of school.

Like, I love doing online classes. They make more sense for me. They make more sense in my head. They tend to be more informative, because the professor doesn’t have the chance to go on a weird… weird tangent. Or multiple weird tangents. Or call Guadalupe “Guadaloop”. Not to sound like the most 2015 tumblr post that glorifies their mental struggles, but I really don’t like talking to classmates or having too many classmates. I just. Don’t mix with that. That’s not to say I can’t, it’s not that, it’s just that this isn’t a priority for me. I’d like to say I have a pretty good work ethic. I have a good art store near me where I can get supplies so I don’t need a campus store that over prices everything.

Aside from that, I really want to get to the point where I can sell my art and art prints. I’m not ignorant to my emotions, I get attached to paintings, so I’d like to be able to sell art prints of those. It’s just figuring out how I’ll do that. I just need to be able to have an avenue of money. Im in a, comfortable, but awkward situation, that im aware a lot of artists don’t get to have; I have connections, I have family and family friends who are interested, I have a website, and I have a lot of time im able to devote to that. And this is just traditional art.

On top of all of that, I still want to pursue my digital art endeavors. Like. I have a lot of things I want to do and a lot of time to be able to do them, I jsut have to figure out how. Because I want to make digital art and fan art and traditional art and I want to make prints and bookmarks and everything else. Just how.

I keep having that phrase that “Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity” and I hope to make that true. I jsut have to keep preparing then.

[theraedar]

HEWWO FWIEND 14 and all the ones from 16-22 for the art asks >:3c

HEWWO MY BUDDY!!!! Reply under cut bc it got long haha

14. Any favorite motifs

Baroque scrollwork and filigree are really pretty! They’re a pain tho idk how I find a way to do them so often lmao I also like whenever I get to do victorian aesthetics or alice in wonderland elements too!

16. Something you are good at but don't really have fun doing

Hmm going back to the scrollwork-esque stuff, idk if I’m necessarily good at it and it’s not that I dislike doing it, but it’s more that every time I do, it I’m like “why’d I choose to draw this again, it’s HARD to come up with” but I’m usually proud of how it comes out! Like these

17. Do you eat/drink when drawing? if so, what

I usually make tea whenever I draw or play games but I get so focused on what I’m doing that I ALWAYS forget to drink it. I will literally take one sip right before I dive into my work and then not touch it at all until MUCH later LOL that’s why I had to get myself one of those bottles that keeps your drink warm for like 12 hrs. I still will absolutely forget it but at least it’s still lukewarm by the time I remember :’)

18. An estimate of how much art supplies you've broken

Hmmm I mainly do digital art and thankfully I don’t break much of that (except some worn down pen nibs and a horribly frayed wire on my first drawing tablet), but I totally decimated one of my posable figma models bc I tried to bend the limbs too far and they snapped off...she lost an arm and both legs.........

19. Favorite inanimate objects to draw (food, nature, etc.)

LOL NOTHING MAYBE??? Well in bgs I think the nature element I’m best at drawing is probably clouds.....still so proud of these ones, I love doing the airplane line (?) through the sky haha....also only did this once in the vilorel hangout doodle page but I enjoyed drawing the makeup products!

20. Something everyone else finds hard to draw but you enjoy

Mmm maybe hands? i still find them super hard to draw too, but I do like drawing graceful hands!! Will most definitely find an excuse to hide them if I can tho :’)

21. Art styles nothing like your own but you like anyways

hmmm I can’t really think of a specific example rn bc every artist’s style differs from each other so ofc I’m gonna like a bunch of artists with styles nothing like mine 🤔

22. What physical exercises do you do before drawing, if any

NONE BUT I REALLY SHOULD HUH

[paunchsalazar]

have you taken any drawing or art classes outside the classes you took in college? I studied illustration in school but a lot of the actual drawing classes sort of sucked so I find myself wondering if it’s worth it to pursue a more formal class or if I should try more YouTube tutorials (books on drawing all seem to following a specific type of drawing that I don’t want to do or are too general). Mainly because I can spend time drawing but find myself stagnating without a goal or guide. This would also be both for my own personal hobby and sort of for my job. Maybe I’m just asking if you have any drawing resources that you found helpful. Also I’m sorry to hear you are burnt out but wanted to say painting en plein air is pretty fun and doesn’t have too much of a price tag for a gouache set and watercolor notebook and a couple of brushes (you can go pretty barebones with it and it was a nice way for me to get out of the house when I did it frequently)

hi!!

I haven't really taken any drawing or art classes outside of school since high school, one life drawing class with long poses and sometimes particular materials, another that was just an open session with a model and a teacher/artist who drew on their own and sometimes gave tips. otherwise, it's just been that and college classes.

agreed... I still doodle, but I feel like I just hang out in my comfort zone and make tiny incremental progress at best, but can't come up with anything in particular to push it...

I wish I had good resources, but I feel like I'm honestly in the same boat! i have friends that have taken classes for digital painting/lighting and some for boarding but never had the time to do so myself.. waiting to see how long I remain unemployed before signing up for something that takes multiple weeks/months.

yeah... i used to have a watercolor brush pen + travel set to sort of fill in simple drawings and maybe do quick studies, but I've never really sat down and tried to do plein air... i will see what color gouache paint I still have and see if I can do anything or if it will require a trip to the art supplies store. thank you for your encouragement!! seriously!! it is possible but intimidating...