#the thing about comics is that once I draw out something I can easily think of the next drawing

[candyheartedchy]

Kinda just want to do a fancomic now about CoralBob instead of the fic.

[phantomarine]

Clam's Quick Tips for Starting Your Very First Webcomic

Howdy! Here are the three bits of advice I tend to give people who ask me about getting into webcomic-making. Maybe they can help you jump into the fray with a little less fear.

1) Make Your First Chapter a Pilot Episode

You will be told by webcomic veterans to start with a short, simple comic idea first - which is wise - but if all you can think about is your big magnum opus, then you might as well hop in, right? Otherwise you'll just be glancing back at the other cooler project forever.

But if you can't start with a small simple story, start on a small, simple part of that larger story. Your first chapter should be a snapshot of the main conflict - show us a simple scene with few characters, ease us in slowly, keep things clear and focus on emotion/impact/clarity. Get the audience to care by offering something easily digested, but full of promise.

Once you're done with that 'pilot' chapter, and you're feeling more comfortable with the whole comic process, you can open the gates and show us the larger world. At that point, you'll be way more ready.

2) Simplify Your Art Style For Your Own Sanity

Always try to make your webcomic's art style as simple as possible - the standard rule is to use only 75% of your artistic skill for every comic page you make. Otherwise you will burn out quickly and terribly.

But you also need to be PROUD of your art style. If you're really feeling itchy, add a couple bells and whistles to your style so you can look at the finished page and say "Yeah, looks cool." You'll find the right balance the more you draw.

Also, don't be afraid to change your art style as you go along. Ultimate consistency is often impossible in webcomics anyway - so embrace your desire to try new things, streamline your work, whatever you feel needs to happen to be happiest. Sometimes the coolest part of reading a webcomic is noticing that style change - so don't hesitate to embrace it!

3) Resist the Reboot! RESIST!

The curse/blessing of drawing the same things over and over is that you'll inevitably get better at drawing those things. The trouble comes when you look back at old stuff and start thinking "Damn, I could draw that way better now."

You must recognize that this feeling never goes away. Not after a hundred pages. Not after three hundred. Not after a thousand.

I think everyone should be allowed one soft reboot for their first webcomic. Redraw some panels that bother you. Change up some dialogue if it doesn't make sense with your new story ideas. Do maintenance, basically. One of the beauties of webcomics is that they can be easily edited, without reprinting a whole book or remaking a whole game.

But if the ultimate purpose of a webcomic is to tell a story, then constant reboots will just be retelling the same story - slightly better each time, but the same at its core. We've heard it before. Most audiences would rather you save your strength and just keep going, rather than circling back year after year and going "Wait wait wait! I'll do it better this time."

Reboot early, not often, and only when you absolutely must! You're a storyteller, and you're constantly getting better at telling your story. Don't be ashamed of it - look back how much ground you've covered, and keep walking!

---

That's a good start. Happy webcomicking - don't be afraid to jump in, but be prepared to learn a lot very quickly. And if this advice doesn't work for you or adhere to how you did it, that's absolutely fine - webcomics are diverse by nature, and so are their creation processes. Feel out what works best for you, and good luck!

[tibbycaps]

Do you know have any tips on how to draw a comic? As in simple style and easy to draw and consistent in redraw? I love your style and I can't help but wonder how you got here and if you could help. Thank you

okay sorry i left this in the inbox for a bit because. where to start lol! there's a lot of thought that can go into making comics i think. but i believe you're specifically asking about having a consistent art style and being able to draw the same character a lot over and over again, so i'll try to focus on that

i think a lot of consistency is just playing around with character designs and getting something you feel comfortable with. ill use grian as a good example because it took me a while to come up with a grian design that i liked. once i liked it, i was able to draw my grian a lot & very consistently. every time you draw a character, even if it's a little doodle, you gain that muscle memory for ur lines a little better, so you should doodle always as much as you can and never be afraid to try something new and experiment with your style

the pipeline

i think a good way to establish a character design that you really like to draw & can familiarize yourself with is by defining some key features about them. like in this image for example, my older grian designs don't really have anything about them that stands out to me. he wasn't rlly that fun to draw. but nowadays i think i have a distinct hairstyle & expression & glasses shape i give him, which are fun to draw. even if it's a tiny doodle with like, 15 strokes, you can still identify it as my grian design i think

something that i noticed (i didn't consciously do this but it just sort of happened as i was trying to make them all look different from one another) is that i assign different shapes to grian, cub and scar. these guys are good examples because 1. they're the three characters in my hotguy comics part and 2. they're the three guys i draw the most often

grian i tend to go for more rounded shapes, cub more squares/rectangles, and scar is more pointy and triangular. little things like this can help them stand out from one another and makes them fun to draw in my opinion. when i draw grian's hair i always have the hair come to a rounded point and is more neat/tidy. when i draw scar the hair is more spiky and wild. cub is sort of in the middle where his hair is more pointy, but is kept neat, which gives it those straight lines and right angles

TL;DR how i draw characters easily and consistently is make key features & shapes that make them fun to both draw & look at. and then draw them a lot

i hope that makes any sense, i like yapping about character design so hope you don't mind the long response lol ^_^

[starryluminary]

♪ Jane Doe - Alicia Keys

The EX Files finally!! The episode where Cody and Noah face the consequences of their actions (the consequences they frankly don't deserve)

I hope this is coherent. I had to add and change some things last second to tie it together and I reeeeally hope I managed to have it read well

Notes about this episode under the cut! (There’s extra detail I couldn’t fit in the doodles and needed context for future episodes, so skimming them is recommended!)

* (It’d be funny if Noah had a black eye this episode from Sierra’s backhand.)

* It starts off with Sierra crying and Courtney and Heather making Cody comfort her, which he does reluctantly.

* Cody's not entirely sure what to say to try and calm her down, but she retorts with “Whatever… it’s not like you're in love with him.”

* Sierra looks back at him… and he’s frozen. He doesn’t know how to respond.

* Sierra can take a guess, though. “…No you aren't.” She harshly grabs him by the arms and yells at him, desperately, “NO YOU AREN'T!!”

* Heather grabs Sierra and Courtney grabs Cody to separate them. Cody promptly runs away and Sierra promptly gets yelled at by Heather (not because she cares, but because Cody being injured would make him a liability.)

* On Team Chris’s side, Alejandro, Owen, Duncan and Tyler are huddled discussing the incident. Owen tries his best to be on Noah's side, defending him, but Alejandro twists the story to paint Noah as the one in the wrong. Owen doesn’t want to admit he’s making sense. Duncan is completely against Noah, backing up Alejandro. Tyler however doesn’t participate until Noah gets fed up of the not-so whispering and storms out of first class.

* Cast regroups for the challenge rules and Noah joins Cody's side, quipping something I can’t remember. Cody quips back. Sierra pushes Noah to the ground in response, pretending to be in on the joke.

* The “Courtney throwing challenges” bit is replaced by Tyler watching/paying extremely close attention to Noah to determine if Noah’s situation is sympathetic or immoral. Noah gets more mad the longer the episode goes on cause Tyler isn’t exactly subtle.

* Cody finds the cloning pod and makes Alien Cody like in canon. [I’m making him a bit more curious and a bit less initially threatening, like he has Cody’s thoughts and opinions and feelings.] Alien Cody approaches the real Cody slowly, and Sierra finds them. She’s shocked at first: “Two Codys?” Then she starts wondering, and asks the Alien Cody a question. “Do… you love me?” Alien Cody sticks its tongue out at her and scurries away.

* Once Sierra and Cody are alone together, Sierra tells him she’ll forgive him. Cody is confused. Sierra explains. “Obviously Noah got into your soft, easily manipulated mind, and that was wrong of him!” She grabs Cody’s face. “But don’t worry.” She leans in and puckers her lips. Cody looks at her horrified. “I can fix it.”

* Before Noah and Cody find each other, Noah finds Alien Cody. He thinks it’s the real one at first, approaching it casually. He then notices the messy hair, green tinted skin and the eyes (which I’m making entirely black cause these are pencil drawings with no color) and becomes more cautious towards it. “You’re not Cody. What… are you?” ET finger touch.

* Duncan sees this from afar and yells at Noah: “Are you *seriously* messing with Cody right now?!” Noah tries to respond: “I’m not! This isn’t-“ Alien Cody interrupts him with a growl directed at Duncan. He charges towards him with malicious intent and Duncan punches him, making him explode into goop. Noah does not falter. “Way to kill our winning ticket, idiot.” Duncan does not hesitate. “I’ll kill you. I swear I’ll kill you.”

~ *[Events of the comic]* ~

* Team Amazon makes it back to Chris with an artifact first and win the challenge. Cody looks back at Noah (whose team was only slightly behind his own) sympathetically. Noah looks back with understanding. I want to say Sierra’s slightly too loud and exited about NOT the Amazons winning, but of team Chris losing. Tyler (who’s paying way too much attention now) notices and comes to a conclusion.

* Owen gets voted off this episode for being dead weight, and he and Noah hug before he jumps. Owen tells Noah to “win for him” and Noah replies that he makes no promises… but he’ll try.

Sorry that’s. Like a lot. The story kinda got away from me

[phrandallanton]

ranfren headcannons

I've done everything but posted headcannons and a fanfiction. This won't do. Here's some headcannons of mine! All of them aren't serious so don't take them that way d(>_･ ). Feel free to ask me about any other headcannons I'll definitely give more!

Randal

• if he has any pimples on his face he definitely picks at them untill they pop

• either is really good at math or sucks at math and hates it. (No in-between)(leaning towrds sucking at math more)

• has tear stains on his homework sometimes

• he bathes everyday dispite what people think. (Luther forces him too)

• his hair gets really oily. He has tried to cook with the oil his hair produced once. Nobody ate dinner that night.

• if he's frustrated and you go to poke him he'll scream on top of his lungs, but like the scream that goes from normal yelling to banshee screeching. "stop touCHING MEEEEĚĘƏƏ!!!!"

• gets in a lot of internet arguments about things that don't matter at all ("I think you'll find it's 'whom'.")

• he'd get so mad if he ask you to hold his glasses, and you proceed to carelessly get your fingerprints all over them.

• draws with those "how to draw anime" guid books.

• if he ever took a driving test, he would have already failed the moment he opens the car door.

• loves kraft mac and cheese, double points if it's in shapes of popular marketable characters.

• now thinking of it, if he was a pasta dish he would be kraft mac and cheese.

• bites his toe nails off (gross) Luther tried to get him to stop but he probably does the same thing when no one is around.

• sneezes weirdly. Like..."ah...ah...AH CHOOwoowoowoowoo..." and shakes his head. Or if he's covering it in his elbow it'll sound like a trumpet horn.

Luther

• he can dance but it's weird.

• if you tell him a joke he'll turn it into a life lesson.

• he wins every staring contest. However if your eyes start watering he'll get worried and start begging you to blink.

• treats women (and everyone) with so much respect, but he won't hesitate to punch a women if he really has to.

• *shakes his indext finger* "no no no"

• Randal probably tried to set him up on a blind date, he didn't like that. It was very awkward to say the least.

• genuinely gets happy when there are bagels at the function.

• when asked for advice, it'll sound like he's going to say something really meaningful and life changing, but then does a complete 180. "Oh, you think your ugly? Well people will have their opinions about you and ...well... you aren't the best thing to look at. But there's worst out there ♡."

• I can see him gobbling up some cheese and broccoli.

• has a walk in closet filled with clothes and accessories he doesn't wear.

• he 100% definitely has the goofiest giggle in the planet.

• eats ice cream with his front teeth.

Nyon

• I will stand by this till the day I die, he's really funny. He has a really good sense of humor. But I could also seem him not understanding jokes too. But at the same TIIIMMEE I feel like he'd be naturally funny.

• he knows lots of slang and pop culture due to watching TV a lot and probably quotes stuff in his head. (Maybe out loud if he was talking to you)

• has a lot of opinions, will never say them out loud, even when asked.

• he's the smartest out of everyone, including Luther.

• easily amused. please give him one of those little fishy nightlights. He'd enjoy looking at it so much.

• he's good at card games and Nyen doesn't like that. (Nyen has stabbed him over games of uno)

• has a really funny looking smile. (There's that one drawing in the Christmas comic where he's smiling weird after he saw Luther's reaction to the fire place tape he made for him)

Nyen

• listens to death metal but then listens to a jpop song right after. ("Can't let gang know I fw this")

• good at math, sucks at reading.

• loves hearing about drama and will be nosy.(come on man he loves Judge Judy and romance novels)

• sounds like Tom from Tom and Jerry when he yells.

• he calls himself "The Tom Cat" and (canonically) "Top of the pets in the house hold" which is practically the same as "I'm the alpha" so he's probably has said that.

• sucks at card games. Will legit end up with half of the pack of cards in his hands in the middle of an uno game.

• actually the weakest of them all. (I won't go into all that right now. But I can definitely beat him up in a fight, just sayin.)

•him and Nyon probably have times where they stay up and chit chat for a bit before they sleep, Example (from my old notes I had):

Nyon high on weed:...why do we call oranges..oranges...but we don't call apples...reds..??..

Nyen:....sh*t...you got a point... does that mean we would call lemons: short yellows and bananas: long yellows so it doesn't get confusing?...

*they then discuss this for an hour or so*

• Snores really really LOUD. Sounds like a car.

• oddly very ticklish I bet.

~~~~~~

That's all I have now. It's 2 in the morning and I'm falling asleep. I might write other characters headcannons later.

"I'm going to sleep" -bop it

[pluckyredhead]

You've probably heard this all before but what draws you to jayroy? I love reading your fics and I reread them a lot but I was just curious about what made you like them, and what you want for them

Thank you so much!

To be honest, the thing that drew me to JayRoy as a ship was that I've loved Roy since I started reading comics 20 years ago but never had a ship for him that I liked, and then I saw him call Jason "Jaybird" and my brain melted out my ears.

But seriously, I just think they have such an interesting, intense dynamic that could so easily work perfectly or blow up disastrously. The cautionary tales of the superhero set. The recovering addict and the addict's son. The one who braces himself with the expectation that he will be left, and the one who clings ferociously to anything that is his because he has so little to call his own.

And somehow it works. They create this judgment-free space for each other that allows them both to heal. Jason loves with this fierce, greedy, all-consuming clinginess that would be way too much for some people but that is exactly how Roy has always longed to be loved (all the Arrow boys are helpless, impractical romantics at heart). Jason looks at Roy and sees a father who is there for his child (and would and did avenge her) and fights his way back to sobriety every time he falters, and those are the two most heroic things he can imagine. Roy looks at Jason and sees danger and conviction and he can't resist either.

I got a comment once on a fic that said something to the effect of "Roy gives Jason acceptance and Jason gives Roy caretaking and those are the things they weren't getting anywhere else" and I was like "...oh, that's what I've been trying to write with all of these thousands of words." So yeah. That.

[signanothername]

WAAA not really an ask but just wanted to say your storytelling is a huge huge inspiration to me! I've always sorta struggled with that sorta thing and you're stuff gives me motivation to try!! Also I love how u draw killer it's so... him

ABBSHSHAAAAAA THANK YOU SOB

AND IM SO GLAD IT GIVES YOU MOTIVATION TO TRY!! Cause the funny thing is, storytelling is something that i also really struggle with, but not necessarily art wise, so like, when I make comics I can easily imagine what the art would be like and how it would flow, but once I reach the dialogue? I get stuck BIG time, it’s like I can imagine what i want, but I struggle with how to word it if that makes sense, words are just so hard to think of for me vhhchchc

So what i usually do is make the dialogue in two parts, first i’d I write everything I have in mind down, without thinking whether it makes sense or if it suits the character, and once i got everything written down, then i start actually refining it and thinking about the little details like whether this character would actually say that, or if it makes sense or if it’s better for the flow of the story

Sometimes, I know what I want the dialogue to be, but I struggle a lot with how i want the words to go, for example, the “little life update” comic

I struggled a LOT with the dialogue for that one, here are a few examples of dialogue I removed, changed, added and edited

I originally had Killer say “I get easily overwhelmed” before I changed it to “it gets overwhelming”

It’s such a small change but for me, it makes a very big difference, cause Killer usually feels detached from himself, so it just didn’t make sense to me that he would use “I” in regards to his own emotions, so I changed the dialogue so it would match Killer’s detachment and used “it” instead

Here I originally had the entire dialogue to be “monsters and Determination don’t mix well” followed by “ I mean my body’s already suffering from it”, but when I reread it, not only did it make the flow of the comic awkward and jumpy, but it also made me think “literally everyone in the Undertale fandom knows that I don’t need to reiterate it to them like they’re stupid”

Here I decided to add “but you already knew that” to the og dialogue, to further emphasize Nightmare’s manipulation of Killer

Here I removed an entire sentence saying “cause it’s not like you truly cared about my wellbeing” cause it felt a bit too spiteful even for Killer (who’s extremely spiteful bdhdhsh) and it gave the vibe Killer wanted Nightmare to care about him, which is not what I wanted to imply at all

And then the biggest change, the last few panels, the og dialogue and the one I used are completely different, and it’s mostly just me not knowing how to end the comic originally, but then when i reread it I realized that 1- Killer wouldn’t care about Nightmare’s feelings of loneliness when he barely understands his own emotions, 2- the dialogue felt extremely out of place with the rest of the comic, and 3- this comic wasn’t about Nightmare, it was about Killer and I needed to keep it that way

Anyway sorry for rambling about it but it genuinely makes me happy to see people loving my storytelling when i struggle a lot with it hahahaha

AND THANK YOU! Killer is my son and I just want to do him justice, glad to see so many people loving the way I write him EEEEEEEE

[chippedshake]

Marcia shouldn't be out on the East Side alone. She's heard more than enough horror stories from her classmates about girls who go too far out alone to know that it's a stupid decision. But every decision she's made since that Friday back in September has been stupid, so what's one more?

She's not entirely sure why she's going over to his house. He's made it clear that he isn't interested and this just makes her seem like a stalker who can't let go of some stupid flirting that happened nearly six months ago.

When she'd first asked Evie for his address, she'd thought she could surprise him a couple days later by showing up and taking him out. She wanted to wait until he called, though, so she could be sure he'd be home when she passed by. Then the son of a bitch hadn’t called her and months had gone by and she'd gotten pissed.

He'd made it abundantly clear he was into her back at the drive-in. If he wasn’t, why didn't he just reject her? Why make her go through the humiliation of months of waiting?

Now, as she draws her jacket closer around herself to feel a bit safer under all the gazes that follow her trail, she just wants an explanation. No one ever liked her before Two-Bit, not even Randy. They dated out of convenience and he hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye when he skipped town.

Marcia's always been everyone’s second choice, just Cherry's best friend, the other one. Until Two-Bit came along. He saw her with Cherry and seemed to really see her. Not a best friend or comic relief or a way to get into someone else's pants. And she let herself get her hopes up like an idiot, thinking that maybe someone who got her would finally like her too.

And then he didn't call her back.

Is there something wrong with her – something so fundamentally wrong that no one could ever really like her?

Oh, God, and now she's knocking on his door and has absolutely no game plan and he's standing in front of her – has he been always that cute? – and his eyes are wide with shock, and she really seems like a stalker, doesn't she?

"I�� uh... hi." Marcia looks up at him sheepishly. The anger that’s been boiling in her chest for weeks now seems to have completely disappeared, crumbling into motes of dust that sweep away with the wind.

All she really wants to do now is hug him and bury her face in his chest and tell him all of the remarks she's suppressed during the past few months because once she got a taste of someone clicking with them, it wasn’t the same when they fell flat.

But he doesn't want to have anything to do with her. He couldn’t even bother to call. And this is stupid. This is really, very stupid. Why is she even here?

"Sorry, I– I shouldn’t be here, this is stupid, I'm stupid, I'll go now–" She can't meet his eyes as she turns back around, cheeks burning.

This is why no one likes you. It's not enough that you're weird and awkward and rough and just pretty, not beautiful. You don’t think things through and you're scatterbrained and you're so fucking stupid, it's a wonder Randy even put up with you for so long–

"Wait, Marcia!" Marcia's head jerks up to find Two-Bit jogging towards her. "I don't..." His hand comes up – to run through his hair, to touch her face – but stops midway "I don't think it was stupid. You comin' here. I also don't think you're stupid."

He's close to her. Close enough to see unshed tears she hasn't been able to suppress. Close enough to the see the bags under her eyes from worrying about what to do. Close enough for her to count his freckles, if she wanted to. Close enough for anyone walking by to easily misinterpret the scene they're seeing.

Neither of them step back.

"That’s just 'cause o' the aliens controllin' your mind. You ain't worn your aluminum hat today, right?" Her delivery's off and it doesn't land how she wants it to. It's hard for a joke to sound funny when you're holding back tears.

"I think the one thing me an' the aliens can agree on is that you're better'n most of this town gives you credit for."

It isn't the first time Two-Bit's complimented her, – he used far too many stupid pick-up lines that night they'd met, and about the first thing he'd said to her was that she was sharp – but it is the first time he's said it in earnest, not a hint of wit in his tone. She's almost too surprised to remember why she's there.

"The aliens tell ya not to call me, then?" The dust motes of anger are swept up by a gust of wind and concentrated again, building up to their former glory and crashing down in a final show of power. "Or was that all you?"

Two-Bit raises an eyebrow, trying to seem nonchalant. It's strange that she can read him well enough to notice the subtle surprise as easily as if it were written in bold across his forehead.

"That– that was your real number?"

Marcia makes a sound that's something between a bark of laughter and a scoff. "Of course it was my real number. What, you think I'd give you a phony?"

"Oh, like it was stupid to think you wouldn't give a grease like me your number."

"I wouldn't give my number to a grease like Da– that Shepard boy, but I'd say so to his face," Marcia snaps, and Two-Bit winces at her slip-up. "And I most certainly would give a 'grease like you' my number, because I liked you and I said I would, an' for all the stupid rumours you can hear 'bout me, there ain't a single one 'bout me not keepin' my word."

His smile is crooked and he's raised an eyebrow and Marcia knows she's in trouble in more ways than one before he even opens his mouth.

"Liked me? Not anymore, then. I guess you just came all the way 'round here to tell me how much you don’t care about me."

She cracks a grin of her own because maybe she should still be mad at him but how is she supposed to, when there's that gap between his teeth and that sparkle in his eyes and that tilt to his grin? "Yeah. Can't stand ya, actually."

"I reckon I could change that."

Marcia raises an eyebrow. "You do, do you?"

"How's seven this Saturday?"

"You gonna pick me up or am I gonna hafta walk all the way over here again?"

"You gonna give me your real number or am I gonna hafta go to school just to see you again?"

They're smiling so wide they must look insane to anyone passing by, but neither of them minds as Marcia scribbles her number down onto a piece of paper and gives it over to him.

"Don’t lose it this time."

[shok-oy]

november. 06, 2024

twd characters x male reader. headcanons

✒️ ... prompt : their love language/s pt. 1

[ alexandria editon ]

rick grimes

- acts of service & physical touch

the man is always exhausted after a day's worth of putting out fires around the community, solving everyone's problems little by little, and slowly shaping the people of alexandria into a strong community. all he wants to do after a long day is rest, usually on the couch. that's where you come in; help him out of his boots, give him a nice pillow to rest his head on, he'll lay on your lap later and let you feed him. sometimes he'll talk; complain about how his day went, sometimes he'll just be quiet, enjoying your presence. if you run your fingers through his hair or massage his chest, watch as he just melts away, he becomes absolute putty in your hands.

carl grimes

- quality time

ever since the group arrived in alexandria, carl was sort of... left to his own devices. you and him both. while his father encouraged everyone to explore, meet the members of alexandria, you and carl would often sneak out past the wall and venture into the forest where you two would stay until the sun begins to set, reading comics from cover to cover, twice. carl often enjoys the silence, choosing to simply bask in your presence, but he wouldn't mind if you yapped his ear off. he just likes spending time with you, knowing that you were safe and happy and the two of you could just be happy together.

glenn rhee

- gift giving & words of affirmation

glenn knows what you like; even if you had only mentioned it once a long time ago, glenn would remember it for years to come. everytime he'd go out on a run, he always made sure to bring back something for you; a trinket, an accessory, anything that reminded him of you. "i thought you'd like it." is what glenn would always say. he was always right. glenn is an optimist through and through,but there are times when he'd think negative thoughts, wondering what could go wrong, pondering on people who could get hurt, and whatnot, but he always bounces back easily as soon as you talk to him. you're the person he trusts most in the world, and if you tell him things will be alright, that he's the strongest man you know, he'll believe you.

daryl dixon

- quality time

daryl isn't very expressive or clingy, but of all things, he enjoys the time he spends alone with you. just knowing that you're by his side, you have his back and he has yours, is enough for him. he enjoys a quiet stroll through the forest or a ride on his motorbike with no particular destination in mind, just you and him on his bike on the open road is enough to fulfill him.

abraham ford

- physical touch

abraham can easily go off the rails, lashing out on everyone around him when he's pissed off, but one touch from you, and he's like a tamed dog. a good slap to the face from you easily snaps him out it (if someone else would do this, he'd get even more pissed off). he likes holding you in his arms, and he absolutely adores it when you're just drawing invisible patterns on his skin with your fingertips. he likes having you close, always having an arm around your shoulders or your waist, and he would absolutely adore it if you lean your head on his chest or on his shoulder; it makes him feel powerful, and needed.

ron anderson

- quality time & words of affirmation

ron hasn't had it easy. his father was an asshole to him, his brother, and his mother, but he couldn't do anything about it. what was a kid like him supposed to do against his father? thankfully, your untimely arrival on alexandria brought him a sense of comfort. he doesn't like staying at his house, it wasn't a home, but for him, you were his home. hearing reassuring words from you was enough to keep him going, but he kept his father's abuses from you for as long as he could. but when you found out, you gave him a piece of your mind, and when you tried to do the same to his father, ron stopped you. he feared his father would take him from you, so he would endure... just for you.

heath

- acts of service

heath likes to do things for you, he always tries goes above and beyond. the apocalypse may have limited how he showed his love and adoration for you, but trust me, heath would find a way. but heath always seems to malfunction when you're the one doing things for him. volunteering to drive, or to stay up for night watch, or carrying his heavy bag... sometimes, heath would pretend to struggle when carrying his things just so you would come over and help him. he would always enjoy the sight of you walking away with a heavy bag on your back while carrying two heavy boxes of supplies without so much as breaking a sweat.

aaron

- physical touch

aaron likes to stay close to you at all times. when out looking for survivors to bring back to alexandria, there was always danger lurking around in every corner. aaron would never admit it, but whenever he's scared, he likes to hold your hand. he says he does it so you two don't get separated... but then again, that is his biggest fear; getting separated from you forever. he's big on kisses too; and he absolutely loves it when you hold his face with your hands and plant kisses all over his face, especially after you shave his beard for him.

~ shokoy ☆

[angelpuns]

I know we are kinda focusing on your aus which are also great! But! I wanna ask about robot boy cause I miss him(L330-N)

SO!!!

•How did L33 know Casey needed help when he saved him? Was he following at a distance?

•does lil casey get to ride the tall robot? I think the idea is cute

•why is L33 in a record store?

•can L33 turn back on easily? What caused him to shut down? The ninpo?

•do the metal parts of him need to charge or need batteries?? Or is it only ninpo powered?

•if the robot "suit" ever breaks will Leo's soul pass on?

(Fr fr I DO ADORE LIL HATER AND KID LEO THEY ARE THE CUTIES EVER! BUT! I RECENTLY REREAD THE ROBOT AU! AND I LIVE THINGS BY ASKING THINGS!)

I also miss L330-N!! I was just telling someone last night about how I would love to work on L330-N again, but I just don't have the time and I have a lot of complicated/difficult things I wanna draw :/ Ireally do miss that guy smh

Eventually I'll get back to it!! Once Kid Leo is over or I have more time. or both :)

Yep, he absolutely was. He was worried somehting might happen toi the first actual live person he's met in like...literally ever, so he was following from a bit of a ways away.

Yep! He doesn't LIKE to, cause he still really doesn't consider them friends. L33 just might know where the Hamatos are, so Casey is keen on being nice to him. And sometimes his little legs get tired and he needs to be carried :)

He likes music! He's actually been there for a fairly long time, maybe a little over a month? It was both safe from raoming krang dogs and he got to enjoy something "human". He's kinda just been sitting around listening to different records to see what kind of music he likes. So far his favorites are Queen, Mr. Blue Sky and a select few electronic type songs that he thinks he doesn't really like so much as they're just comforting for some reason.

That's a bit of a spoiler ;) But I will say he powered down due to the electric shock! His systems were given a bit of a power override so he'll need to cool down for a while. He will probably turn on soon though ;)

L33 isn't sure how he's powered. He knows he has some sort of power source, but he himself isn't really sure of what it is. Just that there's a deep hum of some sort of current inside him. He does need to rest from time to time, though. He can sometimes feel that power source weaken and knows that means he needs to shut off for a bit and rest - which, a s aside note, L33 can willingly shut himself down or go into sleep mode. He has some sort of internal timer set up that he can't control that will eventually wake him - sort of like an internal clock in a human! I can't say much else cause spoilers but yeah :)

That deoends on if his ninpo/soul is actuallly tied to it, which, no one ever really found out :) L33 himself doesn't really know what will happen if he "breaks" either, and it kind of scares him. Spoilers as well ;)

I'm glad you enjoy L330-N so much! I really really love robots and love drawing him, I jus thaven't had the time to work on a more complex comic (drawing wise I mean) in a while so it's been hard to focus on him ;-;

[musicalmoritz]

Some funny and cute head canon between hanako/amane and tsushigomori?

Yayayay I love their dynamic sm. The father/son duo ever. I’m gonna do a mix of Amane and Hanako headcanons bcuz their relationship at any point is so sweet to me

• So for AUs I think it’s super cute when ppl have Tsuchigomori adopt Amane (+Tsukasa)- or at least it would be, I don’t think I’ve seen any actual fics like that lmao. But for canon it’s definitely more of a “teacher you accidentally call dad” dynamic

• I still view Tsuchigomori as a father figure to Hanako but I think they’d both be very reluctant to admit it. I feel the need to specify that because fandoms tend to take parent/child dynamics and make them into super traditional families, which can be cute in AUs but sometimes for canon it takes away the nuance

• It’s the same as when I call Teru Kou’s dad, there’s more to it than that. Yes he is Hanako’s father, yes he is his teacher. Two things can be true at once

• Okay now that that’s out of the way, onto the headcanons

• Circling back to the first point, Hanako has accidentally called Tsuchigomori “dad” twice. Once as Amane, and once as Hanako

• As Amane it was a very emotionally heavy moment, when Tsuchigomori finished bandaging him up as usual. He gave him a mini lecture on standing up for himself, and Amane let out a quiet “Thanks, Dad”

• The minute he realized what he said, he bolted out of that classroom. He wouldn’t talk after that until Tsuchigomori reassured him they could just forget about it

• As Hanako it was more of a comical moment. He was hanging out with Tsuchigomori and Yako, annoying them as usual, but as he was getting ready to ditch them he said “See ya later, Dad”

• Everyone froze until Yako started laughing her ass off. Hanako quickly tried to cover it up but Yako wasn’t willing to forget it as easily as Tsuchigomori had been that first time, so he had to hide out in his bathroom for quite some time

• Yako started calling Tsuchigomori “Dad” too whenever she wanted to mess with him

• Tsuchigomori would try to help Amane make friends by pairing him with other kids for group projects. This always backfired, seeing as Amane had trouble socializing and was an easy target for bullying

• Sometimes he still tries to get Mitsuba and Mei to hang out with the kid so that he has more than two friends (one of which is his girlfriend)

• But progress is still progress and he’s obvi very happy to see that Hanako has made friends

• Hanako hangs out in Tsuchigomori’s office whenever he’s bored or sad

• When he’s bored he’ll just annoy him, telling him unfunny jokes and going on long tangents about whatever comes to mind. Tsuchigomori complains but never seriously attempts to kick him out

• When he’s sad about something, he’ll usually just sit at one of the desks or in the corner curled up in a ball. Tsuchigomori doesn’t comment on it, but he might give him a blanket and some candy, or a book to read

• Hanako tries to go to Tsuchigomori for advice on Nene, but Tsuchigomori’s love life is, frankly, pathetic, so really he’s the one who needs advice

• Some of the only times Hanako isn’t floating is when he’s running in the halls to provoke Tsuchigomori

• Every year on Father’s Day, Hanako brings Tsuchigomori a rock. He started this tradition as Amane and has kept it up all these years

• That’s not to say he didn’t love his bio dad, but he wanted to show appreciation for the teacher that looked out for him too

• Before they left school at the end of every day, Tsukasa would thank Tsuchigomori for “babysitting” Amane

• Hanako’s favorite books are the Sherlock Holmes series so Tsuchigomori lets him know every time the school gets a new copy

• He used to draw little smiley faces on Amane’s papers when he’d get a perfect score

• Amane would stay after school for tutoring even though he didn’t need it whenever things got too tense at home with Tsukasa and his parents

• Hanako frequently asks Tsuchigomori to update him on recent scientific discoveries. If anything major happens, Tsuchigomori will give him reading material

• Tsuchigomori was the one who taught Hanako how to use a computer

• Amane was always deathly afraid of asking questions or raising his hand in class, so if he had any comments he’d reserve them for when the rest of the students left (another method he used to delay going home)

• Amane strikes me as one of those kids who ate lunch with the teacher (ik it’s common for Japanese students to eat in their classrooms but this would be true even when his other classmates decided to eat somewhere else for the day)

• Before Nene came along, Tsuchigomori would encourage Hanako to clean his own bathrooms by giving him science and mystery books as allowance

• For Christmas one year, Tsuchigomori bought Hanako a toy rocket

• When Hanako needs to be cheered up, Tsuchigomori and Yako will play astronaut with him. Sometimes Yako pretends to be an alien, sometimes she’s part of the space crew, it depends on the plot

• Whenever Tsuchigomori is showing his class a movie, Hanako will sit in and watch

• Tsuchigomori has absolutely written “a pleasure to have in class” on one of Amane’s report cards

Okay I’m gonna end it there, ty for this ask I rly enjoyed talking abt them :D

[homestuckreplay]

some times video games, DOES CAUSE violence: Who Is Dave Strider?

Character Deep Dive 3 - 7/7/2009

TG: im wearing them ironically TG: because theyre awesome TG: the fact that theyre ironic makes them awesome TG: and vice versa TG: are you taking notes on how to be cool?? jesus get a fucking pen (p.110)

With an ‘OH PSYCHE’ and a dramatic sword slash into the digital world, Dave Strider made his dramatic entrance into Homestuck on June 29, 2009. We’ve previously seen a few of his instant messenger chats with John, which establish him as a disaffected and irony-poisoned guy who values the idea of being ‘cool’ and dismisses his friend’s earnest interests. Actually seeing Dave as a point of view character gives a very different impression - he's emotionally dependent on the people around him, doesn't have a strong sense of self, and is scared to express an earnest thought. And he's not even the tiniest bit cool.

Below the cut is an analysis of what we learn about Dave in the first 350 pages of Homestuck, through the framework of his stated interests on p.315. It's about 4.4k words because much like Dave, I can’t shut up.

1 - You have a penchant for spinning out UNBELIEVABLY ILL JAMS with your TURNTABLES AND MIXING GEAR.

Dave’s computer (p.323) has two desktop files for his jams - ‘ILL BEATS’ and ‘DOPE RHYMES. SO DOPE’ which I can only assume are two separate musical genres that Dave understands the nuance of, even while his listeners do not. However, despite Homestuck regularly featuring music as part of the story, we don’t hear any of Dave’s sick mixtapes. Instead, we make them for him (p.338) - meaning Dave’s first stated interest is one that the audience has control over. This is like if on page 4, each reader got to enter a list of movies for John to love, and those movies were substituted into the later comic, giving every reader a unique experience of John’s taste. 

John is established as someone who has a very specific taste, staying firm while other characters and the narration criticize him. Dave is established as easily influenced by other people’s creative impulses and opinions on art. Whether the reader seriously creates something they enjoy, or layers all 16 or 20 beats at once in an unlistenable mess, the next page still reads ‘Those beats were so fresh they belong in the produce aisle’ (p.339). Dave thinking whatever the reader does is cool is similar to him thinking whatever his bro does is cool, which he mentions throughout his pesterlogs and narration in reference to diverse topics like the sylladex, video games, and puppets. 

He’s also easily influenced by John, perhaps even gullible, as John’s talk of a monster pissing in apple juice at the factory is enough to get inside Dave’s head and stop him from drinking the bottle he was excited about, and Dave switches instantly from parroting the GameBro review of Sburb to believing that Sburb can save Rose’s life, based only on what John says. A big question I’m interested in with Dave is what he actually likes, and where to draw the line between his own interests and opinions, and those of other people that he copies without exploring for himself.

Dave being a technology guy is the first thing we learn about him because of his username, turntechGodhead. We see Dave protective of his turntables, not wanting to spill anything on them (p.315) and we see him refer to his technology by the model name, suggesting that the specifics of the tech are important to him (p.337). Three of Dave’s six stated interests relate to music - unbelievably ill jams, bands no-one’s heard of, and phat rhymes. As music was notably absent from John and Rose’s interests, despite them being skilled instrumentalists, this over-focus on music is really notable. Dave’s musical interests explore the full spectrum of creating vs appreciating music, with Dave creating remixes as the exact middle point, a form of creation that is based on incorporating other artists’ work that Dave enjoys. This is kind of perfect for him as someone whose personality might just be a remix of his brother’s. 

We get no sense of Dave being religious, so the ‘godhead’ in his name apparently refers to how Dave presents himself and his creations. He talks as though his opinions are objectively correct, even in narration, and describes himself as being ‘worshipped’, with people prostrating themselves before him and kissing his shoes. However, music itself can be a religious experience. In Christianity, for example, songs of praise are a form of worship and a way to bring believers closer to God, and all major world religions have their own musical traditions. In secular culture, for many people, music intensifies emotions, creates community, and can create feelings of reverence and catharsis similar to those experienced in religious worship (see this article and this deviation for examples). I can easily imagine Dave feeling the same way, and music being his truest expression of emotion and therefore the thing that hits him most deeply and defines his life.

2 - You like to rave about BANDS NO ONE'S EVER HEARD OF BUT YOU.

We are taking this one on faith, because so far, we haven't seen Dave raving about any bands. He does own an extensive and colorful record collection which he keeps beneath his turntables, but he hasn't looked at any, or given the reader a chance to rifle through them the way we did with John's game collection. This interest parallels Rose's 'RATHER OBSCURE LITERATURE', and similarly, I don't think Dave's bands are genuinely underground - they're probably well regarded indie bands who aren't in the pop charts. If I’m headcanoning Dave’s favorite bands it’s Dirty Projectors, Porcupine Tree, The Streets, Animal Collective, Modest Mouse and LCD Soundsystem. The only real world media we know for sure Dave likes is Starsky & Hutch (2004), and Ben Stiller as an actor. Some of Ben Stiller’s work is definitely ironic comedy, but it’s still fairly mainstream.

It's also possible that Dave already got his only three friends to listen to his obscure bands, and now they have heard of them, meaning Dave can no longer act smug and superior about being the only one that knows them. This is a tragic and self defeating prophecy, and there's no direct textual evidence for it, but I came up with the idea while thinking about the Midnight Crew comic. Dave has a poster and bedspread of this comic but '[hasn't] looked at it in a while' (p.327), so he's less of a fan than he used to be. John also reads Midnight Crew and its predecessor (p.112), so I wonder if Dave got John into mspaintadventures and it then lost its magic of being something cool to Dave. There is a real loneliness in not being able to share your interests with somebody for fear that it will ruin them somehow, or that other people won't understand them the same way - Dave also mentions that it's hard to explain the 'subtleties' of his ironic appreciation (p.318). John likes everything so earnestly in a way that seems uncomfortable for Dave.

3 - You collect WEIRD DEAD THINGS PRESERVED IN VARIOUS WAYS.

Much like the record collection, we can see evidence of Dave's weird dead things in his room, but it's not an interest he's explored in the comic. Page 337 gives us a good view of his specimens, which appear to include an embryo in a jar of liquid, an assortment of scorpions, centipedes and beetles encased in solid material, a fish encased in a different solid, and various rocks, fossils and bones just chilling on the shelf. We don't learn whether Dave collects and preserves the specimens himself or buys them like this, but I found guides online for preserving specimens as a hobby using commercially available supplies, and those sunglasses are kind of like safety goggles (or at least better than nothing). Either way, this interest sticks out - all the others are very typical for a selfconsciously cool indie guy, but even if it's ironic, this is some confirmed nerd shit.

I do think Weird Science will become important to Homestuck. John's interested in ectoBiology and paranormal lore, Rose lives next door to a mysterious laboratory and has the ethos of a mad scientist, and now Dave displays biological specimens on a shelf. I'm always thinking about how the comic is setting itself up to explore some fascinating dichotomies (spectrums?) like physical vs digital and technology vs religion, and I'm now adding art vs science to that list.

I also think we can interpret this interest non-literally, and think about what other things Dave might like to preserve. Vinyl was thought of as a dead medium for decades, until a recent indie resurgence that Dave is helping with. Photography, Dave's next interest, is a way of preserving a moment in time that can't be relived. And one popular argument for why the Internet is good is that while physical items like a paper book will degrade over time, digital data like a website can be preserved forever. Maybe part of the reason Dave feels a lot of responsibility towards his websites is because he knows that people could still be reading them decades or even centuries from now, when he himself is a weird dead thing. In a story where Sburb represents the near-limitless potential for creation and destruction, it is very interesting that Dave, the biggest Sburb hater, is associated with preservation.

4 - You are an AMATEUR PHOTOGRAPHER and operate your own MAKESHIFT DARKROOM.

Again, Dave hasn't discussed his photography, but his pictures are strung up around his room. This is fascinating because it implies that the makeshift darkroom is also Dave's actual room, not the bathroom or a spare room or closet. This might suggest that like John, Dave doesn't have much control over the rest of the house. His brother has puppets strung up in the hallway and bathroom, but Dave either isn't allowed to hang his photos there, or he's not comfortable hanging them where the rest of his family might see. It also suggests that Dave simply draws the blinds, switches off the lights and screens, and exists in his room in darkness, navigating by touch and memory alone. This might tie into how half his hobbies are related to sound, not sight - and Dave wearing sunglasses indoors could be a way of practicing finding his way around with reduced sight, or an effect of regularly doing so, if Dave spends enough time in darkness that he now struggles with bright lights.

Three of Dave's four visible photos are selfies of him in different poses, despite a host of interesting things to photograph in his room. I'm thinking of a line from House of Leaves where a character, famous for her smile, is described as practicing it every night in front of the mirror when she was fourteen. Dave is the same to me. He's regularly associated with muting and masking his emotions - for example, saying 'Nah.' to retrieving his arms from cinderblocks (p.313), where John and Rose had far stronger emotional reactions to similar commands (p.5, p.218). Dave photographing himself in the perfect expression or pose surgically designed to look effortless, then studying those photographs and iterating from there, is so easy to imagine.

Conversely, for someone who is so dedicated to concealing emotion to the point of wearing sunglasses and hiding his eyes even while alone, making art (like photography and music) is probably the only way Dave knows how to process his feelings. Sadly we are in a post-cassette tape world, but Dave is such a 'make a mixtape for his crush' type of guy that I can imagine him finding a bunch of limewire rips, compressing them into a zip file and emailing them to John, who replies like 'I don't know how to open this'.

5 - You maintain a number of IRONICALLY HUMOROUS BLOGS, WEBSITES, AND SOCIAL NETWORKING PROFILES.

We are treated to two of Dave's ironically humorous websites - sweet bro’s hella blog, a blogspot page, and SWEET BRO AND HELLA JEFF, a dot com that really exists (and redirects to the SBAHJ comic on mspaintadventures). This explains everything. A blogspot is one thing but owning a dot com makes you a Guy Who Owns Web Domains, which feels extremely cool despite being ultimately meaningless. These sites also establish how much Dave has to say - we see this in pesterlogs too, where Dave will message John every few minutes asking for updates on the Sburb beta (p. 26, 35, 110) or send twenty messages in a row even after John has said he’s leaving the chat (p.204). 

On sweet bro’s hella blog (p.325), Dave’s just yelling into the void with no real goal in mind, just an idea he thought would be funny. I do think his March review is pretty funny, but I also think Dave likes GameBro for real. He respects their opinions - ‘did you see how it got slammed in game bro????’ (p.26) - and changes the subject when John criticizes it. He’s also adopted the lexicon, as the GameBro review of Sburb (p.42) is written similarly to how Dave types. But mostly I’m interested in Dave’s blog’s followers. He has at least twelve, and maybe more. The Ghostbusters icon is almost certainly John, but none of the icons jump out as Rose or GG. They could be real people - or they could be more of Dave’s accounts, with him creating an extensive social network of characters who interact with each other’s posts ‘ironically’. If Dave is someone who craves social interaction, this could be a way he copes with loneliness.

In SWEET BRO AND HELLA JEFF (p.326), Dave is creating something. He’s a webcomic artist! He might even have been inspired by the Midnight Crew. He’s only made four comics so far, which I’ll call ‘stairs’, ‘HE HE HE’, ‘jelly’, and ‘BARACK’. These all feature two characters, who are presumably Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff, but it’s not defined which is which, so I’ll call them Red and Blue. Red’s mom makes an appearance in HE HE HE, and there’s a squirrel in BARACK, but these are side characters. The dynamic seems to be Red getting into situations, and Blue expositing/commentating on them. They are both gamers, might also be stoners, and Blue is possibly transmasc. BARACK suggests that the two characters might represent the American political parties, which makes sense, because the recent 2008 election is probably the first political moment Dave’s been old enough to have real knowledge and opinions on. 

SBAHJ is clearly intended to be near impossible to parse, filled with nonsensical dialog and plot points and horrific jpeg compression, so it’s extremely hard to analyze right now. I think this might be on purpose, and that part of Dave’s layers of irony are him not wanting people to learn too much about him through his art. The line between irony and sincerity is something really fascinating to me, because these concepts are so embedded into internet culture. Dave tells himself he’s making something that’s bad on purpose, and that he’s doing it ironically. But he actually believes that what he’s making is good. He thinks it’s good because of the irony, but he’s still making art that he’s proud of, he’s still showing vulnerability by posting it on the internet and getting people’s honest reactions, no matter how many layers he tries to cloak that in. 

Dave does think of his blog as a responsibility - ‘ive got a lot of shit on my plate, i am sort of a big deal ok?’ (p.333) - and I think that’s a really common feeling. Having any kind of following, even if it’s just John, his bro, and a couple of strangers on the internet, can easily turn into feeling like there’s an obligation to create content for them. If Dave’s cool bro has promoted Dave’s work, that becomes even more pressure, since those are people Dave probably wants to impress. So when he says he doesn’t have time to read Midnight Crew (p.332) or play Sburb with Rose (p.333), I don’t think he’s lying, or making himself out to be busier than he is.

Much like Dave’s sick beats (p.338), SBAHJ is the first time a Homestuck character has created something that also exists in our world. I think it’s very interesting that John, Rose and Dave all have meta roles to play in the story, but they are all different flavors of meta. John’s meta role is explicitly that of a character, but one that the reader, player, and narrator are all able to control at times through the various layers of the narrative (p.90, p.253, etc). Rose’s meta role is that of a player, able to control John’s environment in godlike ways and be immune to the commands of the Vagabond, another player (p.139, p.277, etc). Now, Dave’s meta role is that of the narrator, as he infodumps and exposits even when nobody is around, posts commentary, and creates an entirely separate narrative on his own website.

6 - And if the inspiration strikes, you won't hesitate to drop some PHAT RHYMES on a mofo and REPRESENT.

The phatness of rhymes can’t be quantified scientifically, but I did my best. I tried reading both of Dave’s raps aloud, doing my best to put them to a beat. The first four lines (p.287) went well, and it all fell apart from there. 

This didn’t feel like a fair test as I’d never usually read rap lyrics before listening to the song - so I read the lyrics to Lil Wayne’s 2008 song A Milli, and Kendrick Lamar’s 2009 remix of the same song, which I hadn’t listened to before. These were both much easier to read in rhythm, and when I listened to the songs afterwards, they were decently close to what I’d imagined. To further control the variables, I read Andrew Hussie’s 2005 comic And It Don’t Stop, which centers around rap battles. Here, too, the rhymes and rhythms are crisp - so this is a Dave issue, and not an author issue.

Dave is trying to use the word ���McConaughey’ in a rap. He is probably inspired by far more experienced rappers who might be able to pull that off, but Dave definitely can’t. I think he’s skipping steps and trying to make something complex before he has the basics nailed down. His raps also highlight how self centered he is, much like his infinite recursion of ironic websites. John reveals that his life was in danger, and Dave’s instant reaction is: ‘how can I make this about my art?’ 

However, I’m concerned about the cultural implications of Dave’s raps. We don’t know Dave’s race and he definitely could be black, but there’s no specific indication of that. He’s represented in #ffffff, which is closer to a white skin tone than any other - many black and white comics use shading to denote a dark skinned character. Due to the nature of white privilege, white is culturally seen as the ‘default’ or ‘unraced’ option. In books, race or skin tone will be described for characters of color but not mentioned for white characters, and both Lego and The Simpsons use yellow skin for the majority of their characters as an ostensibly universal option, but still depict characters of color with brown skin tones, implying that the default yellow actually means white. 

Written by a white author, it’s likely that Homestuck has the same problem - and two factors make this even more concerning. The first is And It Don’t Stop, which was co-created by Black artist Tauhid Bondia, but was entirely written by white artist Andrew Hussie. The comic includes multiple instances of the n-word as well as a couple other race related jokes. The second is Dave’s raps themselves, one of which is an irreverent analysis of black presidents in movies at the start of the Obama era. Real life black people have incredibly varied opinions on race and politics, but Dave is a fictional character, and even if he is intended to be textually black, it’s uncomfortable for a white author to write him rapping about living in a post-racism world. 

I think it’s likely that the author - and by extension, Dave himself - are justifying their racism by claiming that it’s ironic and doesn’t represent their actual beliefs, failing to see that the effects of their words are exactly the same. I can give Dave the benefit of the doubt because he is 13 years old and doesn’t exist, but I think the very real 29 year old creator of this work should do better.

7 - The Absence of Gaming

John and Rose shared one common interest, which was video games. We know that Dave reads GameBro, owns the Sburb beta, and has played Problem Sleuth and And It Don’t Stop with John (or at least enjoys the art of these games). And yet, he doesn’t cite gaming as an interest, which I've been puzzling and theorizing over in my mind.

Dave likes gaming unironically and loves playing games with John. He reads GameBro to find out what the Correct Contrarian Takes are that’ll be socially acceptable in Cool Guy Circles. He does this to keep up with his bro, who he has a ‘campaign of one-upmanship’ with (p.314) not dissimilar from the Prankster’s Gambit between John and his dad, and who plays a very important role in his life. The magazine is called GameBro, Dave’s comic features Sweet Bro, and Dave effusively compliments his brother in both pesterlogs and narration, such as ‘my bro taught me a few tricks he basically knows everything and is awesome’ (p.35). 

Dave tells John to brush up on his data structures and allocate his strife specibus, but never actually demonstrates his own knowledge of data structures, and doesn’t know the specific procedure for allocating the specibus (p.35). Dave’s not an expert himself, he’s just parroting the sylladex tricks his bro taught to him. Dave never states a reason for his disinterest in Sburb beyond ‘it sounds so HELLS of boring’ (p.110), and we know that Dave’s bro also doesn’t plan on playing Sburb (p.314). Dave also implies that he’s a little bit scared of his brother with the mildly threatening ‘hes not gonna be happy about [my taking his Sburb discs]’ (p.294).

It’s highly possible that Dave’s love of irony also comes directly from imitating his bro, who is probably a 16 year old high schooler involved in a weird theater kid subculture, based on typical sibling age gaps and the puppets strung around the house. To Dave at 13, of course an older, alternative teen is going to be the absolute height of cool, even while it all looks silly to an outsider. I think that John’s stack modus is actually a very standard option for a sylladex, and that Dave and his bro are the weird ones insisting that hash map is usable - I can imagine them being like ‘why is everyone always using “plates” and “bowls”? I eat all of my meals out of aluminum foil folded into the right shapes.’ 

Dave’s post-ironic hipsterism isn’t exclusive to men, of course, but it is a very specific type of masculinity - ironic sexism is a known phenomenon. Dave, who confines his emotions to an expressionless nod, solves the minor problem of someone getting his name wrong by making a violent sword attack, and makes gay jokes but gets defensive the second someone suggests that he might be gay, is definitely falling into some toxic masculinity. 

Gender roles (both male and female) are unachievable ideals for even the most cisgender and perisex of people, but I think there’s a reading of Dave as a transgender man who came out when he was young and passes well, but always has to put in more work than the other men around him, because he has to work against biology and other people’s perception of his gender. Whether Dave is trans or cis, I think his ninja sword could be a metaphor for masculinity - it’s allocated to his strife specibus, but his actual strife portfolio is empty, and the sword is displayed on the wall. To me this says that Dave is a man, but he’s more concerned with the outward performance of masculinity than actually buying into those gender roles.

Final Thoughts

Just like Rose, Dave has meticulously crafted the personality he wants to have, but there are plenty of cracks in his facade. All three of our main characters so far are easy to understand and easy to relate to - right from their early appearances, we can see the clear disconnects between characters’ words, thoughts and actions, and effortlessly synthesize them into a coherent character. The author is simply gifted at characterization. The patterns of character introductions are very cool too, making readers both want and expect to see certain things, such as the characters allocating their strife specibus or playing a haunting tune (personally I’m most excited to explore Rose and Dave’s houses further like we have John’s). Establishing these patterns means I have a better sense of where the story is, and don’t have as many questions, though of course some mysteries remain, such as:

Just what is Dave’s cool brother’s deal, really? 

Will Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff (the characters) eventually cross the boundary into the Homestuck universe? Will we ever find out which one is which? 

Are the characters’ interests intended to be things they’re bad at (when they’re skills)? Could this be why music isn’t featured in John and Rose’s lists of interests, but is in Dave’s? Could this mean that Dave kicks ass at video games? 

To what extent are the images in Homestuck literal and to what extent are they representational? Or, in other words, do Dave’s sunglasses really gleam when we get his name right?

Dave’s message to John about apple juice (p.324) is almost identically worded to the preceding narration (p.320). Is the narration a perfect representation of character thoughts for everyone all the time, or is this only true for Dave because he’s positioned closer to the narrator?

[dwcmarshalarts]

I adore your style and content - I’m considering doing masters studies of some of your pieces just to try it out, but I’m still fairly new to art. I was curious if there’s any part of your process or any particular advice you’d have?

Gave this answer before to someone who asked me the same question, and I think it still counts! 1) Build stamina. You can do this by drawing often- and with intention. Start your drawing with a warm up- something light, not overly serious. Focus more on the literal mechanical feeling of your hand moving to draw. Then focus on the heavier stuff after you’ve both literally and mentally warmed up, setting the stage for more involved drawing. Make this a routine and drawing overall will be less tiring over time.

2) Focus on replicability, not detail. This goes hand in hand with the previous point. A lot of people develop a kind of perfectionism early on, where they get overly attached to a specific sketch and don’t wanna budge from it, and put details until it “looks good,” even when the subject as a whole is wonky. I like to equate this to “too much icing, not enough cake,” or “building on sand foundations.” I’ve been there before, and it can hold you back. Instead of focusing on a specific piece and how you rendered it that one time, focus on how you render it such that you could do something similar, easily replicate the concept. Once you’ve built more stamina, you can open up the gates to tackling the same subject matter in different ways.

3) Mind your mark making. Some folks agonize over the tiniest detail, sometimes for hours. At the end of the day, that itself doesn’t necessarily bring improvement- that’s more of a test of patience. Unless someone specifically asks, you don’t- for example- need to draw every single ridge of every knob on a switchboard in great detail. These things can be implied through mark making. Remember, a lot of drawing isn’t about literally making something for people to see- it’s tricking the eye into believing what’s drawn is actually there. You’ll be amazed at what detail can be like even when you don’t define every part.

4) Drawing is more seeing than “making it up.” * Don’t be afraid to use references and such. It’ll help you render form than imagining it- sometimes the imagination can conjure things incorrectly. *Even seasoned artists who don’t typically use too much references need to do studies from life or books every now and then to reinforce skills.

One point I didn't add before for style things specifically is: 5) Look where the artist got their inspirations from if you want to learn from them. No art exists within a vaccuum, everyone has their influences. Trying to do a study from someone's art will only take you so far- because then it'll feel more like mimicry than actual, learned study. Research or try to see parallels with artists that you might think had a hand in influencing a given artist's style. Notice the patterns there- certain textures are invoked here, this form was defined like this, etc. A lot of folks confuse wanting "more of a thing" as opposed to "what makes that thing desirable/unique." If you'd like to know where some of my influences come from, I'd say look at the works of Squiddy, covers for Hellboy comics, and the Snowpiercer graphic novel.

Addendum: If you're looking to draw anatomy specifically- study from real anatomy, and learn how to do those before you begin to "break the rules" (exaggerate, anthropomorphize, etc). For resources on that, I'd recommend the Morpho books (all of them haha) and Dynamic Human Anatomy by Roberto Osti.

Hope this helps somewhat, feel free to ask if I missed anything.

[internetgiraffekid1673]

Whattup people who read my Batman posts! Brainrot's still rotting, I just had junk to do, so I didn't draw for a while! Anyhoodle, time for another character, Duke Thomas, a.k.a The Signal (and also Robin depending on how you're counting it!)

You know the drill by now, initial trace with my lazy backdrop! I liked drawing Duke, but BOY HOWDY HEY, he was hard. Like, I'm just gonna come out and say it, I am BAD at drawing armor and buildings and machines and anything non-organic. Which means Signal is probably one of the hardest costumes to get right. This was just the trace, so it wasn't too bad, but trying to understand how his costume worked was quite the game for this whole process. I will say, he's got one of my favorite color schemes out of any of the Batfamily. The light dark contrast works really well in a way that is only seen elsewhere on the Robin cape, and the fact that this is actually the Signal's whole costume makes it feel more cohesive and effective than that. And, you know, it's also really cool thematically, considering light is kinda Duke's whole thing.

Freehanded drawing with referenced trace! This was a ROUGH time. I had to redraw Duke three separate times before I got a result I was satisfied with.

So, remember how I said that I struggled to understand how his costume actually works? Yeah, that's because I have a decent grasp how armor is actually supposed to work, and this ain't it fellas. Like, not knocking the design, it looks cool and is certainly easier to draw once you get the hang of it, but it makes less intuitive sense to me. What is happening on his neck? Is that like pure metal molded to his skin or something? That's not how physics work. Why are his pauldrons not actually covering his shoulders, and also where and how exactly are the attached to anything? It was confusing, but definitely a good exercise for me.

Again, the stuff they did was actually pretty smart, since it's comic books and they don't have to move realistically, and this makes it easier to pose his head, chest, and shoulders. It was just difficult for me to wrap my head around. Ignoring all the physics defying stuff,

Signal probably has one of the smartest/most practical costumes of the Batfam too. For one, he actually has a helmet and protects his head. Two, he has armored all of his vital organs like his lungs and heart and stuff. Three, he doesn't have a cape, which means he can't be grabbed or snagged as easily, and doesn't have to fight working around that. This is sad for me though, because I love drawing capes : (

Pose for characterization. I'mma be straight with ya'll, I don't know much about Duke. Like, I've read all of the We Are Robin/Robin Wars comics, but that doesn't actually give me much of a handle on Duke as a person, or how he behaves because it has to split the focus between so many protagonists, and also because there's a bunch of other stuff happening, so Duke doesn't get as much focus as you'd suspect. I haven't read anything else where he appears (except for Wayne Family Adventures, but I don't think that counts).

The general vibe I got from We Are Robin and from other comic readers is that Duke is probably the most approachable member of the Batfamily. He wasn't raised as an assassin from birth, he hasn't been Robin since he was like 9, he didn't die and come back to life---his life experience, while far from normal, is still much closer to the average human being, so he can relate and react better. (The only other member who really gets close is Steph, but she's been around longer and has had time to get into more whacky life or death scenarios, so she's a bit nuttier. Duke'll get there in time, I'm sure).

I tried to convey this approachability by giving him an open expression and more relaxed body language, even though he is a pretty mistrusting and high strung person. Comes with the territory of being a vigilante I guess.

As always, the text for his hero name is traced off a comics cover. To indicate the duality of Duke being both a pretty chill kid and also absolutely insane, I felt the need to put his civilian name in two fonts. I also tried to make his civvies call back to his We Are Robin uniform without being an exact one to one. I'm positive that Duke'll take any excuse to wear Robin colors, even after the ban was lifted, just because it pisses off the cops.

Can you guys guess who comes next based off the order so far? (You won't, it only makes sense to me).

Other Batfamily Members:

Nightwing Edition

Red Hood Edition

Robin (Carrie Kelley) Edition

Red Robin Edition

Spoiler Edition

Robin (Damian Wayne) Edition

[lavenoon]

Conjunction (~9.9K)

More menace4menace, based on @naffeclipse's Bloodstain Fool with the og detective au by sunnys-aesthetic!

Plays after the first doodle comic, and after Falling Into Orbit, but before Asterisms

—

“Got your target?” 

Sighs sound different without any breath involved, you’re learning. 

You’ve been following Eclipse for a small distance already, waiting for him to say something, to no avail. It’s not that you’re quiet about it, so you don’t think it’s a matter of not having spotted you yet - and his reaction to your question proves it. 

Eclipse turns.

You grin. 

Half lidded golden eyes glow even brighter with the sun starting to set behind the urban horizon. Not a true sunset yet, but darkness is starting to settle between the high rises. The lighting is gorgeous, and unfortunately, it’s rubbing off on Eclipse. 

And that, in turn, reminds you of your impulsive compliment just the other day. Is it worse that you still mean it?

At least you don’t have to think about it for too long, thanks to his sparkling personality.

“Why are you following me? Can’t you take a hint?” 

Ah. That’s why he ignored you for half a block. 

You try not to let it get to you. It’s not the easiest task, waving off the rejection from the only person you somewhat know and who knows about you in this time, but you’ve had a bit too much practice putting on an act anyhow. You shrug, grin just barely strained.

“We have a saying for hints, a wave with a fencepost.” 

The tired expression morphs into a scowl, one you’re a bit more familiar with. Now he’s confused - and that’s enough to soothe your wounded ego. Enough to make your grin genuine again, and then worse. 

Eclipse’s glower evolves in parallel. 

“Are you going to elaborate or not.” 

Well, you can be gracious. 

“You could throw the whole fence at me and I’d duck to look at a ladybug.” 

It’s likely that the only reason you notice his hand twitch is because it’s just barely below your eye level. Tall bastard. The movement draws your gaze, but when nothing else happens, you tilt your head back up. 

He’s no longer looking at you, eyes still narrowed as he stares off into the distance. His voice is quieter, too. 

“A fence is about the only thing you could dodge.” 

There’s a deja vu when he shifts and just walks away, except this time you do have other options. You still follow him. 

“I answered your question, so? Did you catch them? Why target, anyway?” 

As much as you want to keep an eye on his expression, unfortunately you’re too uncoordinated by nature and tripping on the uneven sidewalk is too much of a risk if you aren’t looking. Still, you spare him another prying glance he probably doesn’t see before focusing downwards. 

“Curiosity killed the cat.” 

“And satisfaction brought him back. So?” 

“Him?”

Eclipse actually slows, his optics already on you when you look up to check. Not hostile, for once, but still confused. You shrug with a lighthearted smile. 

“Or her. Either’s good. But I’d like my satisfaction, please.” 

Just to emphasize, you make a grabbing motion with your hand, palm up. And trip over a loose tile in the pavement. At least you don’t fall - but the inelegant floundering isn’t quite helpful in your endeavor of figuring out Eclipse’s job. 

He’s no longer looking at you when you regain your balance. 

“You’re awfully sure there will be satisfaction involved.” 

“Your mysterious deflections are only making it worse for you, you know?” 

Again, a sigh. Either the low rumble of static is just part of an animatronic’s sigh, or he’s starting to get grumbly again. Given his disposition, your bet is on the latter. Thin ice, then. 

Watch you stomp on it to find out just how thin. Maybe that’s why they call it ice breakers. 

You skip a step, keeping even with him, and grin. Eclipse sends you a burning glare, as if in warning. But all too quickly he averts his eyes again, and then you have to speed up to keep pace. He’s not getting rid of you that easily. 

And your stubbornness wins out after another few steps, and another fleeting glare. 

“I’m a bounty hunter.” 

You hum.

“Oh right, that’s a thing.” 

This time, it’s Eclipse’s feet stuttering - but you don’t look up to see how your reply insulted him this time. It’s certainly less regulated nowadays than what you’re used to, and somehow, you can imagine him in that kind of field perfectly. Grumpy loner with ominous favors who also hunts whomever the finger of the law is pointed at. 

Maybe that explains the suggestion of a gun, too. 

Silence stretches for just a bit too long, so you end up glancing back up at his face despite the risk of tripping. He’s facing away from you, so that tells you nothing. Are you imagining the tension in his shoulders, or is he waiting for something? 

Looking up comes with other nice surprises too - there’s a few clouds starting to smother the orange of the sunset. Oh, you hope it’ll rain tonight. Falling asleep might be a little easier that way. Your sleep schedule has suffered enough. 

You focus back on the path in front of you, preventing any other tripping accidents. 

Given that you haven’t been sent away or glared at again, you decide to say something else. It might not be anything particularly smart, but that’s his problem. 

“I’m assuming it’s not like the movies. Worn Wanted posters, ‘Dead or Alive’, that you can dramatically rip from pin boards or something.” 

Eclipse looks back down to glare at you, just as the street lamps buzz on. More golden light all around, even more so with his pupils shrunken to pinpricks. 

“What movies are you talking about?” 

Bastard has no right looking this pretty. 

“Westerns, mostly.” 

That actually stops him in his tracks. In an attempt to remain aloof you continue walking, except - you have no idea where you’re going. You halt just a few steps later, turning back with the best innocent smile you can muster. 

You’re kind of glad his eyes are such an easy tell for his emotions - they’re narrow, but golden, and his pinprick pupils have once again expanded. He just looks tired, maybe annoyed. 

“It’s a miracle you even survived the week.” 

The snort escapes you before you can stop it. A miracle, after he so pointedly got involved? 

“Well, only thanks to you. Food and a roof over my head are some basic requirements that helped a lot.” 

You wink, just to keep the air light. It doesn’t do anything to stop Eclipse from scowling. 

“Stop that.” 

A widened grin, and a deepened scowl. Somehow, this seems to be your pattern. You shrug. 

“Just saying.” 

With another rumble Eclipse starts walking again, brushing past you without concern. You jump a step to get back into the motion, and then match his pace. Who even needs a workout regime if you have a grumpy animatronic to keep up with?

“I see you still haven’t learned to keep your mouth shut.” 

Despite the cutting words, you don’t feel like the tone quite matches that sharpness. Not friendly, mind you, but much less hostile than you’ve heard from him before. Laughter bubbles up in your voice, and you don’t care to smother it. 

“Bold of you to assume I ever will.”

The long suffering sigh you get in reply only makes you laugh harder. Though only for a moment, before a question is directed at you for a change. 

"How are you still dressed like that?" 

He gestures towards you, eyes on you as he waits. Though he doesn’t slow down at all.

You blink, and look down on your outfit. It’s certainly a choice to walk around in something that won’t be worn for another century, but then again… Your choices here are rather limited. And as far as you’re concerned, you’ll gladly wear familiar outfits rather than worry about buying new ones with money you don’t have. 

Eclipse only narrows his eyes at your shrug. 

"Would you believe me if I told you the stuff just shows up in my closet every morning?" 

Silence sure isn’t the answer you expected. You glance back up, head tilted, waiting for his judgement. After a moment of consideration he looks away. The noise he makes isn’t hostile enough for a snarl, but too grumbly to be a sigh. It is a concession, though. 

"Your anomalous existence affecting your surroundings should faze me more, but sure, why not." 

The defeat in his tone startles a laugh out of you, and you skip the step it costs you. 

"Yeah, same. I went inside, didn't go home. Not even Narnia." 

Ah, hm. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. 

"Narnia?" 

Yeah, no, that is not a story you want to get into. You’re not even sure how similarly history will play out with animatronics around. Also not a topic you want to analyze further. So once again, you shrug.

"Wait a couple years, it'll make sense."

And if not, by then he’ll hopefully have forgotten about it. 

“I would hope you’re not just volunteering future information to other people.” 

This time the sharper tone is accompanied by a quick matching glare. Naturally, you wink. 

“Nah, don’t worry. You’re special.” 

The frustrated grumble is wordless, and you have to press your lips together to not laugh. But he does pick up pace again, and you hurry after him. 

Something wet hits you. 

You look up. 

The sky isn’t just night dark - it’s covered in heavy clouds, and just like that, the next fat raindrop hits your face. You blink. Another.

So you get your wish of a rainy night. Now if only you were in your bed, you’d be all set. Mild panic creeps up in your throat, and you run a few steps to catch up with Eclipse. 

“Uhh!”

Eclipse turns, frowning at your tone. But he does stop, which honestly? You didn’t really expect. So you take the plunge.

“Where are we?” 

“Where -”

His scowl deepens in record time as he looks around, and then his eyes are blazing even in the twilight granted by the nearby street lamp. Mostly the light illuminates the steady increase of rain hitting the ground.

“You followed me home. You followed me home?” 

Your first instinct is to smile again, though this time it’s a lot more wobbly than before. You didn’t think this through, at all. You didn’t even notice how far you were going, all because you were too focused on talking. 

Maybe you can find your way back, retrace your steps - but you’ve been following Eclipse for a while now, and even before that you weren’t exactly close to the boarding house. You’ve been wandering a lot these days, for lack of other activities, and now you’re looking at a good distance to walk. In the rain. At night. 

But maybe Eclipse knows a shortcut. It’s not like you have many options. 

“Uh. How far to the boarding house?” 

“Too far.” 

Quick way of shattering your hopes, then. You deflate.

In your periphery, Eclipse reaches out - but aborts the motion with a curl of his fingers. Just as you look he turns, instead waving over his shoulder. Yours are getting wetter by the second, and you see the matching darkness growing on his coat. 

“Follow me. You’re not dying without paying me back for that favor.” 

You’d hopefully just get drenched, but if that’s what he has to tell himself to help you’ll take it. Thinking about how much better he knows this city by night isn’t really helping your anxiety. You’ve been a duckling for this long, so there’s no reason to stop now. 

Somehow you just keep getting yourself into these objectively dangerous situations, huh?

For once, you stay silent as you follow Eclipse past the last block. There’s tension in the line of his shoulders and you’re pretty sure you’re about to owe him again. He doesn’t seem happy about it. You can’t blame him. This was avoidable, it shouldn’t have happened. Anxiety is churning your stomach.

Only when he takes a turn into a nearby apartment complex do you find the courage to speak up again. Your steps echo on the tiled floor, breaking the silence for you.

“You’re waterproof?” 

You can figure, given his lax reaction to the rain, but you’d feel better with the confirmation. Despite everything, animatronics are new to you, and you’re missing a lot of what would be considered common knowledge. 

Eclipse just glares, obviously not happy over having to state the obvious. 

“Do you think I’d be done in by a bit of rain?” 

Your shrug doesn’t feel half as cheeky as all the preceding ones. 

“No, but wanted to make sure.” 

Something in his expression shifts, so you duck your head. If you can’t see his annoyance, it can’t hurt you. 

Silence reigns. 

Eclipse turns on his heels, and continues down the hallway. You shuffle after him, chancing a glance back up at his back. 

Have his shoulders relaxed, or is that wishful thinking?

“Don’t you think I would have been more concerned about the rain if I wasn’t?” 

Some of the edge has left his voice, and unfortunately you immediately read into it. Your own shoulders drop with the relief as you follow him up the stairs. This is a worse workout than everything before. He’s so fast.

“I mean, yeah, but I prefer checking in with the expert.”

“Surprising enough that you’re admitting ignorance.” 

You can’t see his face, but his tone makes you picture an eye roll. Still annoyed, but the edge hasn’t returned. You crack a smile.

“I don’t know a lot of stuff. Would you like me to elaborate?” 

He steps away from the stairwell, and you notice just how high the ceilings are - but still only high enough to leave a few meager inches between his top most sunray and the stucco on the ceiling. 

Mostly, you’re just glad you only had to climb the stairs up one floor. He’s fast enough on even ground, where he doesn’t get to skip steps.

“Don’t.” 

With a grin you start listing things, eyes closed for posterity. 

“Physics, never had a good teacher. Social cues - no one tells you those rules, and I hate it. Taxes are nebulous too, even after I’ve started - ough.” 

You’re yanked back by your collar, and make an ungraceful sputtering sound. Shouldn’t have closed your eyes then - seems like you missed Eclipse stopping at his apartment door. But his hand lets go of your shirt as quickly as he’s grabbed you, and you’re left rubbing the spot where the fabric dug into your throat. 

Eclipse scowls, but there’s something new to it. His grin is wider than usual, just a bit. 

“When to shut up.” 

You test it, just a bit, and let your own smile grow. 

“I think that’s part of the social cues.”

His eyes narrow, but you don’t feel apprehensive. 

“The fences.” 

You nod sagely. 

“The fences.”

A huff of static, and he unlocks the door. A snort? You’re starting to get amusement without it being at your expense then, that’s progress. 

Stepping past the threshold makes your anxiety spike again though. With the room he got for you it was different - this is his space, and you’re only here because you didn’t pay enough attention. 

Well, also because Eclipse is nicer than he lets on. Or believes himself to be, maybe. You’re still convinced you wouldn’t have died walking back to the boarding house.

But it’s strange. Following him through the foyer, the coat and shoe racks are the only things indicating that anyone lives here. No decorations to the wall, no carpets on the bare floor, barely even any furniture in the hall. That’s a lot of wasted storage space.

The first thing actually indicating a personality for the place is in the living room. 

“A leather couch?”

There’s more furniture of course, dark wooden drawers and shelves, a desk covered in documents and a chair, and a high coffee table matching the couch. But somehow the obvious source of comfort is what stands out to you. 

“Easier to clean off.”

Comfort, huh?

Eclipse continues walking down the hallway stretching on beyond the room, but you halt with a frown. 

The dark leather on the large (Eclipse-sized) three seater looks well maintained even with the worn creases on one of the edge seats. Eclipse’s preferred spot, it seems. The furthest from the window, and with a good view of the entrance. A realization about as cheerful as his comment. 

You trace a deeper line on the armrest, bright where the leather broke.

“Ominous. Have they invented blacklight yet?" 

You hear rustling from an open door, and you don’t think he heard you. Warily you step away from the couch to follow. Probably best if he didn’t hear you, actually. 

Except he did, and his reply echoes from what you must now assume is the bathroom.

"Why?" 

The suspicion is evident, and you have no other option but to commit. Not that he sees the shrug, but it helps you remain lighthearted. He heard you all the way over there without issue, but still you raise your voice just slightly.

"I’m taking that as a yes. Even cleaned up, you'd still see a whole lot in blacklight. Urine, blood, platypuses."

The confusion echoes, too.

"Pla-” 

Eclipse ducks back out, stepping out of the bathroom with a scowl directed at you. 

“No. Don't do that here."

Shame, you almost got him with the platypuses. It makes not grinning very hard, and you fail much too quickly. His eyes only narrow further as he steps back into the living room, and then his hand is moving too fast for you to process. 

Fabric covers your head. You blink against the bright terry cloth, yellow from the light passing through it, then pull it away from your face. 

A towel - you aren’t even that wet. But what gets you more than the gesture is the sheer size of it. Nearly a blanket, really. 

“Something wrong?” 

The words are barely more than a growl, a storm just waiting to be unleashed. The question, not really a question - a dare. Seems like you look just a bit too taken aback. 

Honesty it is, then. Baffle him too much to be upset with you. You look back up to meet his glare head on, fingers still buried in the soft fabric, and blink. 

“I kind of expected red towels. White doesn’t match you.” 

Eclipse blinks, too, and for a breath his eyes are just wide and golden. Plan, success. But much too soon he averts his gaze, eyes narrowing as if on instinct. 

You want to see him relaxed more often. 

And where did that thought come from? Challenges usually aren’t your thing, and this guy is tougher than a rock with about as much emotional awareness.

Honestly, that might even be too generous an assessment. 

“Red can’t be bleached.” 

The response startles you out of your thoughts, and it takes you a moment to process. It clicks, just a bit belatedly - Eclipse has already brushed past you back into the hallway. 

“Oh.” 

You don’t leave the living room, but step closer to the threshold to the hall. Watch as he takes off the wet coat and hangs it up on the coat rack, nearly bunching up at the ground. 

Again you raise your voice.

“Thank you.” 

The glare hits harder from the dark hallway, but it doesn’t faze you. You’re getting desensitized.

“I told you to stop that.” 

You stick out your tongue, then cover your head again and towel your hair dry, just a bit. Plausible deniability in terms of disrespect, or something. Mostly hiding from retaliation, given that you’ll disappoint him yet again.

“I won’t stop saying thank you if you keep helping me, that’d be rude.” 

“Don’t test me, I’ll kick you out.” 

As expected, his tone is sharper than your knife collection. Though, to be fair, you got yours for the looks, and not for their functionality. 

“I don’t think you will.” 

You pull off the towel just a bit, holding on to it as you look up to where he’s scowling. But angry as he looks, he’s not making any move towards you, remaining more than an arm’s length away. One of his, too. 

It’s a gamble, daring him to go through with his threat - but if he wanted to get rid of you, he really wouldn’t need to threaten it. From the start he hasn’t tried particularly hard to make you someone else’s problem. Your police bluff couldn’t have been that convincing, unless he’s really worried about involving them, and just running for a block would have shaken you off easily. 

He’s not as uncaring as he wants you to think, and unfortunately for him, you won’t play along.

You blink, ending the staring contest, and his shoulders drop with a static huff.

“You’re a walking headache. Dry off, I’m not dealing with a sick you.” 

It’s hard not to smile, so you just hide it behind the towel and a ducked head. You’re still pretty sure you earn a glare for your quiet snort, even though you try to cover it up with a cough. 

Pulling down the towel you unfortunately see the next issue.

“Uhh? Eclipse?”

Where did he disappear to, anyway?

“What?” 

Your drawn out hum doesn’t seem to incite any confidence, because he stalks through an open door back into the hallway.

“What?” 

You grimace.

“So, uh, the bleach? You might need that. Usually the dye washes out without issue, but that’s with the cleaning stuff from a hundred years in the future, so…” 

The frown deepens as confusion starts to weigh on him, and he steps closer. You pull the towel away from your neck and hold it out. The red and purple dye spots are faint, more orange and pink respectively, but definitely visible, and you really should’ve thought about that before. It’s not like your hair was that wet either. 

Eclipse stares. 

You swallow. 

No reply. 

“I’m sorry -” 

Faster than a cobra his hand darts forward, and snatches the towel from your grasp. You fumble just a bit as he drags it away from you, holding on out of instinct before letting it pass through your hands. No rope burn for you today.

Without sparing you another glance, or even the chance to gauge his expression, he vanishes back into the bathroom. An insistent clank makes you jump, and then he reappears with a dark static brewing in his eyes like a storm. His pupils flicker ever so slightly, but you don’t get the time to really look. 

A new towel is flying your way, and you scramble to catch it out of the air before it hits the ground. 

You blink. 

“Don’t stain it.” 

When you look up, the door to what must be his bedroom slams shut. You think the doorframe vibrates, even. 

It makes no sense. The old towel was fine, and if he doesn’t want them stained, why give you a new one? You could go grab the other one, making sure this one won’t get dripped on, but after what felt like progress his reaction to the stains throws you off. Risking the dark eyes isn’t really on your agenda for this unorthodox sleepover. 

Wrapping the towel around your damp shoulders instead, you step backwards until you hit the leather of the couch. Kick off your shoes, and then curl up on the seat closer to the window. 

It’s going to be a long night. 

—

You don’t know how late it is when the door to Eclipse’s room opens quietly. Definitely late, long past your bedtime, but your mind is too restless to grant you any reprieve. 

Golden eyes find yours in the darkness, and the tall shape that is your reluctant host steps into the hallway. You turned off the lights earlier, feeling more comfortable in the darkness, so the only sources of light are his optics and the faint illumination from the moon and street lights reaching through the window. The light doesn’t reach him.

“You’re still up.” 

Huddled in your towel blanket, you shrug.

“Can’t sleep.” 

The rain outside has trickled away to nearly nothing, and you’ve spent the last few hours lost in thought as you watched the raindrops race down the glass of the window. 

Eclipse remains in the hallway, where the faint light from outside won’t reach. You still see his eyes narrow, bright as they are.

“I don’t have any bedding.” 

“It’s not that.” 

He shifts, but it’s too dark for that to tell you much. 

“Ah. I didn’t expect you to be that prudent. I wouldn’t trust me either.” 

You should have figured he’s being an idiot. The glare you send his way is probably the worst you’ve directed at him so far, and the glow of his optics disappears for a moment as he blinks. 

“I’m not you. I was trying to figure out what I did wrong with the towel, not waiting for you to come kill me while I sleep. What the hell am I supposed to do if you decide to do that, anyway?” 

There’s hardly anything you can do to stop him if he decides he’s had enough of you. Your only reassurance is his continued inaction despite all your pestering. Well, and the fact that you refuse to default to that kind of paranoia.

Still frowning he steps forward, just into the space where the moonlight dips into the hallway. Just that amount of light is enough to let you see the confusion evident on his face. 

“... The towel?” 

“You got angry.” 

You don’t like how quiet your voice is. But any louder and it would crack. 

So instead you just duck slightly, resting your chin on your knees. The perspective and your hair should hide most of your face. Maybe you pull the towel tighter around you, just a bit. It’s warm, offering just a bit of a shield. 

Eclipse takes half a step forward, though you hear it more than you see.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. My reaction had nothing to do with you.” 

That makes you look up. If he wasn’t mad at you for staining his towel, then why was he mad? 

“Then why?” 

Confusion furrows your brows as you right yourself. Eclipse dodges your gaze much too quickly. 

“I won’t answer that.” 

Given the reaction and now his tone, you’re starting to wonder if you even want to know. In any case you don’t feel like pushing him further on this, not tonight. You can let it go.

“Okay. But you’d tell me if I did something wrong?” 

That part is important - and actually earns you another static snort. This time the narrow eyes aren’t angry, more a squint. Amusement. Back on track. 

“Little star, have I hesitated to criticize you before?” 

The bluntness makes you laugh, just a bit. You quell it quickly, but the smile doesn’t leave. Relief floods through you, and you feel more at ease. 

This time when you rest your head on your knees you don’t look away from him. 

“Good point. Why are you still up? Don’t you have to, I don’t know, charge some time?” 

His shoulders rise, and that is an answer in and of itself. Right, he thought you’re “prudent” for not trusting him. Of course he’d manage to think of you as a threat. 

“Ah, right. I could come into your room and kill you. Somehow.” 

“Nothing personal. But I won’t trust you on principle.” 

Your sigh hopefully tells him just what you think about that. Still, you decide to let him off the hook. And besides, you’re already talking, neither of you planning to sleep, or otherwise rest, so maybe you can have a little fun. 

You extract a hand from your cozy cocoon to pat the couch. An invitation.

“Can’t blame you for that, I guess. Will you sit with me then? If neither of us is going to sleep.”

Eclipse frowns as he follows the motion with his eyes. Warily, he takes one step closer, into the dim lighting of the living room. The line of his shoulders relaxes just a bit, and then he closes the distance to the couch in resolute steps. 

He does sit down in his spot, and you can’t even take the space between you two personally. Not when he looks so out of place looking back at you. 

“And now?” 

You huff, smile crooked where it’s pressed against your knees. 

“I don’t know. It’s been a while since my last sleepover, and I don’t think you have a bottle to spin. We could play truth or dare.” 

For a moment, his pupils flick away from you. But just for a breath - and then he relaxes against the backrest, settling into it.

“You go first.” 

You perk up. 

“Wait, really?” 

One eye narrows, the other remains wider, and it gives the impression of a quirked eyebrow. At least, that’s how you choose to interpret it. The amusement in his tone speaks for it, too.

“A free pass to learn more about you and how you got here, and you don’t think I’d take you up on that?” 

Snorting actually hurts - you pull your head down on instinct, knocking your nose against your kneecaps. Enough of that, then. You readjust just a bit, leaning into the crook between armrest and backrest. It allows you to face him more easily too, and you don’t hide your grin. 

“I’ll pick truth, then.”

He doesn’t even hesitate.

“Why would you trust me? Follow me?” 

You don’t know which time he means - which honestly just makes his question all the more relevant. For now you’ll answer for both, can’t go wrong with that. 

“I didn’t really have a lot of options. And you haven’t made me regret it yet.” 

He frowns. 

“That’s reckless.” 

You shrug.

“Sure is. Truth or dare?”

Best to move the game along. You can see he still wants to argue, but there really isn’t more to it. He’s helped you whenever you needed it for as long as you’ve known him - sure, it hasn’t been many times, or for long, but a hundred percent is a hundred percent. Grumpy or not. 

There’s a moment of silence, and then, like pulling teeth, his choice. 

“... Dare.” 

Shoot, now you have to think. That’s the downside of these games, having to come up with questions and dares yourself. There’s not a whole lot you can ask him to do, given that this is his apartment and you don’t want to overstep. 

Unless… 

Your grin grows instinctively as the idea takes hold. Eclipse’s eyes narrow in suspicion, but you voice your dare before he gets to backtrack.

“Let me thank you, without being grumpy about it. Accept it.” 

Golden eyes blaze before narrowing back at you.

“Wha-” 

You squint, channeling your strongest little shit energy. 

“Backing out?” 

Even in the darkness you can see his expression twitch. It’s not what he expected, but pride forces him to let you go through with it. Pride, and the fact that he probably still has questions he wants to ask, and can’t end the game prematurely.

His tone does little to hide the strain, and you nearly laugh. 

“No. Go ahead.” 

Perfect. You straighten a little, as if that will help reflect that you mean it. Even with the dare, you don’t think he’ll actually believe you, but it’s the best you’ll get without being glared at. 

“Thank you, for letting me stay tonight. And for getting me a room. I would’ve been majorly screwed without you, and I appreciate you cashing in a more lucrative favor to get me settled.” 

The lemon face is back. You’re trying very, very hard not to laugh. 

“You usually say ‘You’re welcome’ to expressions of gratitude.” 

If his face looks like he’s bitten into a lemon, yours now looks like you’re trying to be unaffected by a sour candy. You’re pretty sure your eyes are tearing up from the strain of keeping the laughter down. 

“You’re welcome.” 

Words near dripping with disdain. You'll have to watch out for a puddle later, or you’ll slip.

You duck your head, hiding your face behind your knees again. Only this time you’re shaking with silent laughter. 

“You sound like I’m holding you at gunpoint.” 

Your voice warbles ever so slightly in amusement, and you’re not surprised when Eclipse cuts to the chase immediately.

“Truth or dare?” 

He has questions, and you’re not sure you want to invite retaliation. Easy choice.

“I’m scared of the dares you’d come up with. Truth.” 

Eclipse tilts his head, settling with a click. The suspicion isn’t new - in fact, it’s old enough to give you an inkling of what his question will be.

“What do you know about how you got here?” 

Bingo. Unfortunately, there’s no prize to win, and you just sigh. You’ll have to disappoint him. 

“Answer is absolutely nothing. One moment I’m back home, taking a little walk, I blink, I’m here and looking at a whole ass animatronic. I’ll give you a do over if you want.” 

There’s a yawn creeping up on you, but you don’t want the game to end. You stretch your arms over your legs with a hum, hoping the tension will cover up the tiredness, and then relax again. 

There’s a flicker to Eclipse’s expression that you can’t read, but then he sighs, too. 

“No, an answer is an answer, satisfying or not. Truth.” 

That’s barely better than dares, just on the other end of the spectrum. Dares are hard to come up with, whereas with truths… There are so many things you want to ask him, about this time and this world and about him and - 

You hum, trying to stall for time, and scrunch up your face deep in thought. Maybe you need to approach this practically. For now you’re living here, so perhaps it’s good to learn about some rules you simply know nothing about.

“What do I need to know about animatronics?” 

“That’s a broad question.” 

Fair point. But he doesn’t sound inherently against the question, so you decide to elaborate. Maybe that will help him answer.

“I’ve been fumbling for over a week now. I just want to avoid obvious mistakes, things I shouldn’t mention, things not to ask. Like if you’re waterproof.” 

For a moment he squints, amusement sparking in his eyes. But then he looks away, expression falling into something more thoughtful, and he hums. 

When he meets your eyes again, his expression is hard. No trace of amusement left.

“Don’t ask about assignments before the revolution, before we had rights. It’s been twenty years, but too many humans still believe it was better then. Do not imply we should submit to that again.” 

A revolution, huh? Of course things couldn’t be peaceful. It’s good to know about it, you figure, though you also can’t help but think that not knowing wouldn’t have been that much of an issue. It's not something you would have assumed blindly, and thus nothing you would have brought up. Maybe asking in and of itself was the faux pas you wanted to avoid.

Still, you want to go back to the lighthearted air you had going for you just before his answer, so you shrug.

“Well, that’s easy. ‘Don’t be a dick to people’, I can do that.” 

“‘People’?” 

That's a weird emphasis. Bad weird emphasis. 

You crack your eyes open again, with a bit more effort than it should take you. Then again, it’s late. Then again, you already abandoned your sleep schedule for tonight. 

Eclipse is frowning at you, and you have no idea why.

“Uh, duh.” 

“We’re not human. And you can just accept that?” 

You match his frown, if for different reasons. 

“Why are you arguing against your personhood after just telling me not to do that?” 

Silence and a deepening scowl are the only answer you get. You stare for a moment, but when it becomes clear he won’t elaborate, you sigh. Sounds like this runs deeper than you have the brain cells to spare tonight.

“I don’t know your history. I came here, and you helped me. That’s all I need to know you’re a good person.” 

“I’m really not.” 

There’s more gravel in his voice than in a good quarry. He’s still being difficult, and you’re a bit too tired to be gentle about your questioning.

You huff, barely dodging another sigh through spite alone.

“Do you want to be?” 

Squintier and squinter, and then he’s avoiding eye contact again. Of course. 

“It’s not your turn to ask.” 

You throw your head back with a groan. It’s frustrating, not getting a straight answer. But “an answer is an answer, satisfying or not”. You’ll take it, and just hope the rest of the game will be more fun.

“Ugh, fine. Truth.” 

Eclipse seems to be out for revenge now. His tone is still sharp, and you can’t say you’re a fan of his line of thinking.

“How are you so cheerful here? You lost all you know.” 

Stating the obvious there. Whether purposeful retaliation or not, you figure you can look past one unfortunate question too. 

You rest your head on your knee again, your cheek squishing almost uncomfortably. 

“Yeah, but I also escaped late stage capitalism trying to kill everyone’s future.”

There, that’ll do. Except a snappy reply won’t really bring back the fun of the game, and only makes both of you feel awkward. 

Maybe… maybe you do have a way to turn this conversation around. The smile comes automatically, small as it is.

“I do miss my sister though.” 

“You have a sister?” 

Surprise softens his tone. Seems like your little redirection worked even better than expected. You widen your grin then, thinking about how Eclipse would react to meeting her. 

“Yup. Menace. She’s younger, but taller. Honestly, if you can’t handle me, she’d wreck you. She has a knack for sniffing out insecurities, and pulls no punches.” 

You stretch, humming along. It does little to dampen your amusement, and you squint at Eclipse. His eyes are still narrow, but much more relaxed than before. Amused, maybe? He relaxes against the backrest again - you didn’t even notice him straightening. 

“... I see she learned from the best.” 

Your laughter is more a bark than anything else, and you slap your hand over your mouth quickly. Who knows how thin those walls are, and how many sane people are actually trying to get some sleep right now. 

With the volume control back in place you do allow yourself a chuckle though.

“Student surpassing the master, if anything. Your turn.”

His eyes wander, moving away from you, and then he’s staring out of the window. You glance back, too. The rain is starting up again, a gentle background noise. 

“Truth. Don’t make me regret it.” 

You untwist your spine to look back at Eclipse, finding yourself late to the party. His glare doesn’t feel hostile, but it does remind you that there was something else you’ve been eager to ask. And while you’re already on the topic… 

Time to figure out whom Eclipse doesn’t hate. You spare him a smile, aiming for a reassuring look, but the way his shoulders slump in resignation you don’t think you succeed. 

“No fun in you ending the game early. Who's 'not everyone'?” 

The quotation marks are more a suggestion from underneath the towel, but you don't care. You trust Eclipse understands - and he does, because he looks down. Almost melancholic. You don't know if you like it.

“... I have two brothers.” 

A blink. A small part of you is intrigued by the technicalities - family by choice, but how so? Without blood in the way, when really all you have is choice, how does a family find together? 

But even though it’s not about any revolution as far as you’re aware, this just screams insensitive question. So instead, you let excitement take over. 

“You have brothers?” 

As your grin grows, his frown deepens. 

“Why is that so sur- why are you looking at me like this.” 

The couch isn’t the bounciest, but soft enough to let you swing forward. You land on your hands, splayed on the leather of the unoccupied middle seat. Eclipse actually leans back, surprised by your sudden approach, or maybe put off by the mischief promised by your smile. 

“Younger or older? Shorter or taller?” 

At least he relaxes again, though not without his expression twisting into annoyance.

“... Your priorities are off, little star. And it’s not your turn.” 

“Consider it a follow up. I need to know for science!” 

You bounce once, insistently, and nearly laugh when you see it reach Eclipse. Scary scary bounty hunter, moved by your shenanigans. 

“... Science.” 

He says it just as the couch settles again. Too much fun. You bounce again. 

“Younger or -” 

“Little brothers.” 

“Ahw man.” 

You’ll keep the bouncing tucked away as an effective method of getting him to talk. Whether or not it’s just to keep you from talking is a secondary concern. For now, you groan in mock frustration, and push yourself back again. Your back hits the armrest, and you tuck the towel close again. 

You huff, and Eclipse tilts his head slightly as he squints at you.

“Why are you disappointed?” 

As you explain you wiggle a bit, shifting your legs into a position that doesn’t hurt your stiff knee. 

“I have this theory of younger siblings outgrowing their older siblings. Though I guess with you in the mix I’d seriously be concerned for your brothers’ heads.” 

For a second, you imagine it. Two more animatronics, even taller than Eclipse. Given that you know nothing about them so far, your imagination supplies you with two more Eclipses, somehow looking even grumpier as they flank the already grumpy Eclipse of your mind. 

The real Eclipse isn’t any more cheerful in his reaction.

“... Do I have to tell you that animatronics don’t grow?” 

Animatronics are not early two thousands robots, you forgot. 

“... I might have been thinking of a movie again.” 

At his groan you press your lips together tightly to avoid laughing. You’re pretty sure if he had a defined nose bridge he’d be pinching it. 

“You’re incorrigible. Truth or Dare?” 

You know what, you’re feeling daring. 

“Hit me with a dare.” 

Eclipse is much quicker than you in choosing dares, and you don’t like this stormy expression. 

“Show me your shoulder.” 

Your brows furrow on instinct. Your shoulder? Which one? Why? 

“Huh?” 

There’s no change to his expression, but he does elaborate. 

“The one I hurt.” 

Now you blink. That was over a week ago, and you haven’t even paid attention to the bruises. They’re gone, probably. You think. Moving around hasn’t hurt after the initial soreness wore off, and you don’t like the thought that he’s that hung up over an accident. 

“It was barely anything, really. The bruises all faded.” 

Still he won’t let up. 

“Show me.” 

No way out then. Though no one said you have to be happy about it. You peel yourself out of the towel blanket, and then push away the fabric from your shoulder. 

In the dark, you can’t see shit. Maybe the bruises are gone, or maybe they’re just too faint to see. Without thinking you raise your finger and test instead, poking around where you remember Eclipse’s fingers digging in. You don’t get far before a larger hand wraps around yours, immediately pulling you away from the exposed skin. 

You blink at Eclipse. His eyes are wide, flickering to something darker in the corners, and his hand twitches around yours. He snaps to the movement, as if unaware of his own actions, and then rips his hand away again. 

“Don’t do that.” 

He sounds like he’s hanging on by a thread, and you don’t think you want to know what happens when it snaps.

His sudden departure after learning he bruised you back at the boarding house. The strain in his voice then, and now. And, for a second, you think about the towel again. You don’t know how it relates to the bruises, but his eyes looked like this earlier, too. 

The dark static calms somewhat, though he glances back at your shoulder for a moment. There’s no better word for it - he slumps in his seat. 

“I’ve seen enough.” 

You spare him one more wary glance, then sigh. 

“I didn’t see anything, and the touch test was negative too. You can stop feeling guilty.” 

No reply. You get started on restoring your layers of comfort. As you pull up your sleeve your eyes fall on your hand again, and you think about how big Eclipse’s is in comparison. You knew, he even grabbed your head before, but just like then you can’t let it go.

On the one hand, you would have liked some more time to actually process what his hand feels like. On the other hand, you’re mad at yourself for thinking like that. 

Eclipse seems eager to move things along. His eyes may have brightened, but his voice still hasn’t. 

“Dare.” 

You hum. If you don’t know how to reassure him your best course of action is to ignore the weirdness entirely. Maybe one day you’ll figure out his deal with bruises. Maybe not. For now, not your circus and not your giant monkey. 

“Ah, hm. Give me a moment, I need to think.” 

There’s a brief pause, but then, slowly, almost hesitantly, Eclipse huffs. 

“If I wanted to, I’d take that as the dare.” 

So he’s fine with trying to keep things lighthearted. He doesn’t want to linger on whatever that was, either, and it strengthens your resolve. Said resolve may involve a lot of silliness, but he’ll have to deal. 

“Shush, or it’s going to be something stupid.” 

Just for posterity you scrunch up your face in thought, then tap your toweled finger against your chin. 

Never looking away from your antics, Eclipse relaxes further. He leans back against the couch, even going so far as to rest his arm on the backrest. For a second, you believe him. Except then you notice the way his fingers are digging into the leather, and his careful projection shatters. 

“Your last dare was stupid.” 

You do have to admit he’s trying though. Unfortunately for him, you just had an idea, and it’s entirely self-serving. Well, maybe it’ll distract him, too.

“I don’t want to hear that from you. Show me your hand.” 

A blink. 

“My hand?” 

“Yeah, like this.” 

You grin as you raise one hand from your cocoon, splaying the fingers in the air. Eclipse looks on, tilting his head as if he’ll understand you better from a different perspective. From the way his frown twitches you don’t think it’s helping. But he does mimic the motion, glaring first at you and then at his hand. Slowly, hesitantly, he holds out his hand in the space between you two. 

No time to lose. You scoot closer, and press your palm against his. He jerks back, but you only stretch further, following the motion. 

“Stay. You’re not grabbing, it’s fine.” 

He stills. 

A soft laugh escapes you, now that you have the time to look. His hands are proportional to his body, which is to say they’re ungodly huge. 

Not that you mind. 

“Oh, big. I mean, I knew, I saw, but the side by side comparison sure is something.” 

Eclipse tilts his hand, and you move with him. There’s a twitch that you ignore.

“You’re just tiny.” 

Again you scoot closer, and extract your other hand too. Again he starts, but then you’re already pulling his hand closer. He lets you. 

Absentmindedly, you prattle on.

“Look - okay, I can’t argue, I’m short even by human standards - wait! I think I’m actually pretty average in this day and age!” 

One hand you keep on his, just so he doesn’t get any ideas about the dare being over. With the other you trace the lines on his palm where the casing is broken up to allow for movement. You move towards his thumb, the indent of the lower joint and the upwards, brushing past the rougher shell of his fingertip. Worn down from all the grabbing he does, for who knows how long. 

You’re so lost in thought, you nearly miss his quiet retort.

“That doesn’t matter.” 

It takes you an embarrassing amount of time to remember just what you were talking about, but then you huff. 

“Because you’re big.” 

The moment is over, and Eclipse’s patience runs out. He pulls his hand back and leans away from you, out of reach. 

“Shut up.” 

Despite his glare he still doesn’t sound hostile. You stick your tongue out at him, then shuffle back against your cozy nook. 

“No, I’m choosing truth.”

The question comes much too quickly after another glance at his hand. 

“Why aren’t you scared?” 

You freeze. 

The anxiety you’ve managed to keep down rears its ugly head again, churning your stomach, and you pull the towel tighter around you. Duck your head, even if you can’t escape his gaze. 

Sometimes, silence is answer enough. He understands.

“You are.” 

Try as you might, you don’t think he buys the nonchalance of your shrug. Still, you have no other option but to continue the act. 

“Pretty much always, yup. You get used to doing things despite it.”

There’s a pause, the silence weighing heavy as you wait. Turns out you’re not off the hook yet. 

“You had a follow up question earlier.” 

Part of you wants to sigh. So you do, even as it turns into a yawn halfway through. Tiredness is starting to win out over the anxiety, so you look back up.

“Shoot.” 

There’s an expectant hum in the air. Not like the intentional ones, more like the soft sound from old TVs. Well, old for your time, not this. Eclipse weighing his words, perhaps. A click, and he speaks.

“How scared are you of me?” 

Ah. That probably shouldn’t surprise you as much as it does - from his perspective a valid concern, and of course something that would occupy his mind. After his very first question tonight, it just makes sense.

But he doesn’t understand what you’re scared of.

“Not as much as I probably should be. Not as much as you think I should be, anyway. Mostly just on principle - you’re bigger, stronger, and one of few people who even knows I’m here.” 

No one who would miss you, or bother looking for you. You were lucky to meet someone who isn’t interested in making you disappear, not even to make his own life easier. 

Someone who knows societal rejection first hand, too. 

Anxiety quells, and you breathe easier. You relax against the backrest of the couch, accepting that you’ll have to peel yourself off later.

“I’d probably be more scared if you were human, actually.” 

The tension you expelled is the tension Eclipse soaks up, it seems. His shoulders harden into a straight line, and his eyes narrow.

“That makes no sense.” 

Earlier you thought you’re getting desensitized against his glares. Right now you’re just way too drowsy to care. 

“Does it? I’m not really a human humans in power like. I’ve got things ‘wrong’ with me that don’t even have names yet.” 

You take in a breath, barely concealing yet another yawn. The quotation marks you mimic with your fingers are about as energetic as your tone, so you can’t be sure he even notices. 

For a moment, Eclipse just stares. But then he too sighs, and his shoulders drop again.

“I don’t doubt that. I’ll concede the point, I have no reason to antagonize you for who you are.” 

Even so, this isn’t the tone you want to end this conversation on. You smile, tired as you are. At least he can interpret your squint as amused, too. 

“Just for how much I’m annoying you.” 

And you got him. 

“So you admit you’re doing it on purpose.” 

There’s no fire behind his words, and you chuckle softly.

“Never said that. Plausible deniability is my friend.” 

His glare actually makes you laugh. It’s overly dramatic, and you’ve seen him be scary - this is so far from it. Maybe if you hadn’t been playing a silly little game for the better part of an hour you would be more inclined to be properly impressed, but now? Nope, no can do. 

You sink a little lower on the couch, and your cheek squeaks slightly against the leather. Ough.

“One last round for you? I have one more question.”

Your enunciation is slowly but surely saying goodbye. Lack of sleep is catching up on you. 

But for now, Eclipse indulges you.

"Truth."

"Why did you help me?" 

If he can wonder just why you aren’t appropriately terrified, you can wonder just why he cares. Coincidence is the only thing tying you together, and that doesn’t actually seem like a big enough incentive for him.

He sighs again, turning a bit where he sits. Drapes his arm over the backrest again - no more need for distance then. Or maybe it’s just more comfortable. He’s not even looking at you, rather past you, out of the window. The rain is still pittering away. 

"My reputation at the station is bad enough as is. Didn't want you running into either of my brothers telling them how I abandoned you."

What crumbs of energy you have left let you perk up at that implication.

“Your brothers are cops?” 

“Yes. Don’t call them that to their faces.” 

You snort. If you ever meet them you’ll have to remember, but for now you can’t help but abuse that newfound crumb of power.

“So that's how to get you to -” 

The hand you so thoroughly inspected before now covers your entire face, and you laugh against it. There’s not much to see - the bit of light passing by his palm is barely enough to make out his fingers. 

Though you didn’t get to sniff it before. If you were any more awake you might refrain, but right now you’re tired and his hand is right there. Given that you need to breathe, not smelling is harder than just giving into the impulse. Heavy and metallic, but mixed with something sweeter - some of it the leather, almost earthy, and some of it you don’t recognize. 

At least he doesn’t seem to notice what you’re doing.

“Shut up. Don't even try.” 

There’s something else you might try. Your impulse control is so dangerously low.

He’s not holding on tightly right now, barely even holding rather than just covering, but you’re not sure how well-advised it would be to translate your impulses into actions. 

… Did he even wash his hands earlier? 

Maybe you can distract yourself.

“Can you imagine though? ‘Hi everyone, I’m from the future, and also I met this grumpy animatronic who wouldn’t help me out. Name’s Eclipse, anyone know him?’. Makes me almost sad it was a bluff.”

“You were bluffing?” 

Can’t make bad decisions if the temptation is out of reach. Eclipse pulls his hand away, just so you can see his wide eyed glare in all its glory. 

You manage a satisfied grin despite your eyelids weighing all too heavy on your eyes. 

“Oh, thanks, my next idea was to lick it and I don’t think either of us want that.” 

For a moment he stares at his hand. You’re glad you’re looking, because you notice the near imperceptible shake of his head before he drops it again. Your laugh is barely more than a tired huff. 

And yet, despite all that interesting bonus information, he hasn’t actually answered you yet.

"That's not really it though. That bluff came way later. Why not just dip when I started screaming?" 

Again that half squint, leaving one optic wider. Sardonic, maybe. 

"A human in hysterics and the bounty hunter with a violent reputation. What do you think people would have assumed?"

That sobers you up, too. 

"Oh. I'm sorry." 

"Don't be. It's out of your control." 

He’s no longer looking at you. His back is against the couch, and he looks off into the room. Not at anything specific, you don’t think. Just staring off into space. Maybe pondering some what ifs, too. 

What if you hadn’t appeared in front of him. What if right now, he could be charging in peace, being owed by someone who can actually pay up, and who won’t antagonize him at every turn. 

You shrink in on yourself.

"Still, I've been causing trouble for you from the start."

Silence settles between you. It’s heavy, but your eyelids are heavier, and sleep might just win even against the fresh wave of guilt. 

The moment stretches, and then golden lights find you again in the darkness. 

"It's not all bad." 

For someone who doesn’t believe in friendship he’s doing a shit job of keeping you at a distance. How can you not read into that? 

"Yeah?" 

Amusement sparks, even as the lights dim as he squints.

"I've learned many interesting things already. Like platypuses being fluorescent under a Wood's lamp." 

A squeak, or a huff - you don’t know what your laugh resembles more. Eclipse is still squinting.

You stretch again, but there is no stopping this yawn. If you’re already standing by your sleepiness, you’ll make yourself comfortable too. First you unstick your cheek from the leather, then let yourself slide down. The couch is big enough for you to curl up in the corner and rest your head on the armrest, the towel between the leather and your skin. Avoid the bad stickiness. 

Eclipse watches you silently, and you lazily blink his way.

“Don’t scratch the couch.” 

“Hm?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Hrm.” 

Whatever he means, you’re not in the mood to ask. Words are escaping you at record speed. Instead you close your eyes, shuffling closer into the corner.

“That can’t be comfortable.” 

Just because he can’t try. You’d shoot him a squinty glare if you had any inclination of opening your eyes right now. 

“‘m small, ’s perfect.” 

It’s comfortable, despite it being leather. The towel is a good barrier against the stickiness, and a warm little cocoon. Not as heavy as you’d like, maybe, but you don’t think weighted blankets have been invented yet. 

At least you have the rain as background noise. 

“The boarding house isn’t too far away from here, if you’re walking in daylight. I’ll map it out for you when you’re awake again.” 

Eclipse’s voice startles you out of your daze, and you jolt. Still, your eyes remain closed, even as you huff. 

“Not asl’p.” 

There’s a low rumble of a laugh, and you smile against your cozy nest. He should laugh more often. Maybe you can tell him a few good jokes, see if he likes any. Not now though. Enunciation is too hard right now, whether you’re awake or not. You totally are.

“Keep telling yourself that.” 

You don’t have the awareness to argue. 

Tomorrow. You’ll tell him tomorrow.

[aroaceleovaldez]

Hey! I’d like to know how best to start an askblog, and how to keep one interesting over a long term.

the number one thing I've found with how to start an askblog is to make sure you have something you think you can roll with for awhile (a character or series you're very invested in, if it's an art one make sure it's a design you're willing and able to draw over and over again, etc etc) and then setting up your blog as completely as possible before you post anything.

[This got quite long so further elaboration + more tips below:]

Enable custom theme, plan out how you're gonna tag things a little bit, set your icon and header (if it's an art askblog, absolutely set it to your own art so people get an idea of what your art is like going into the blog), get your blog description in order, all that jazz. If it's an art blog, make sure you have a design settled for your character beforehand and I'd recommend making it a design you could draw easily if you are absolutely exhausted. Having your design be one you can doodle easily means you won't get burnt out from just the idea of drawing the character. Don't feel like you have to get super fancy or complicated with things - your askblog doesn't have to be colored in or have backgrounds or anything. Get as few barriers as possible in between you and theoretically posting. That's gonna be your number one way to personally stay invested outside of your own interest in the character/fandom/subject/etc. Also try to have some ideas for what type of questions you might get and how you will answer them ahead of time, so you're prepared to get right into things when you start getting asks.

And then the most important step is to open your inbox. Before you do ANYTHING ELSE, open your inbox. Turn on anon. Good. Now never close it. A closed inbox, or failing to ever actually open the inbox, is the number one way I see askblogs die. Askblog Muns will close their inbox and then forget to ever reopen them or wonder why they aren't getting asks and abandon the blog entirely. If you are getting overwhelmed, turn off anon. That almost always slows asks down to a manageable crawl. If you are having a significant problem with rude asks or similar, block liberally. You can block anons - tumblr may give you an error about it but in my experience it generally works.

Okay, so you've prepped your askblog and opened your inbox. Now you have to make a post to advertise it. If you are going to make an "ad" style post or intro for your askblog, make a second post as well that is just a general post about the character or meme or similar. Few people are likely to reblog the intro/ad post - this is not a personal slight against you, people just don't generally see a reason to because it doesn't fit what they usually reblog and really don't like being told to do stuff. Significantly more people are more likely to reblog general fanart, text post memes, a comic dub, cosplay photography, or etc, especially shitposts, and then check out your blog from that. Interspersing occasional posts like that is a great way to keep your activity up outside of asks and get new people seeing your askblog every once in awhile.

From that point on, don't be afraid to send yourself asks or ask your friends to send stuff in just to get/keep the ball rolling. Getting your friends to send you some asks right away can be a great way to start posting immediately and show how the format of your blog works, so new people know how interacting with it works. Don't be afraid to post relevant fandom content stuff there, but generally try to keep it to original posts in a similar vein to the askblog (i.e.: if you run an illustrated askblog, post some of your other fanart for that franchise/character there sometimes as well). And try to keep it to your own content - avoid reblogging other people's stuff too much cause it'll clog up your blog and not do anything to help bring new eyes. You can reblog stuff of course, but don't let it overwhelm your blog. Keeping your askblog active with original posts means more people are going to find your blog and stay invested in your blog and send you more asks and this will self-perpetuate.

As far as keeping it interesting over a long-term, that's subjective. But some things you can do include events, particularly for milestones or anniversaries or etc, and many askblogs include a plotline that the characters follow while answering questions, which can encourage asks inquiring about what the characters are up to and give more things to talk about. If you don't keep things changing or progressing, people can run out of things to ask about. Also, don't be afraid to answer the same or similar questions multiple times - especially if it was awhile ago. It's unlikely all your followers have seen all your posts and you can always put a new spin on it. The one billion hug/boop/etc asks do get tiresome though so don't feel bad about skipping the nth one of those. And don't feel like you have to answer every ask immediately! Saving asks can be really useful later down the line, especially if you get a ton of asks all at once but then don't have a lot later. It gives you something to post.

Just generally encouraging engagement with asks/anons is another good option, again such as with events or even things such as Magic!Anons, which is a way anons can impact the characters/story/event in random manners (some common ones are turning characters into animals or monsters, or genderbends, or etc etc). Or even just having your characters react in particular or silly ways to anons or show ways the characters get their buttons pressed by certain asks will encourage people to send in more of those types of asks or explore ways they can personally torment/annoy/etc the characters more, which people love.

The only caveat to this is be careful about letting it stray too far into just straight up RP territory - askblog crossovers are super fun and can be a great way to build up an askblog community, but RP blogs are an entirely different thing that get mixed up with askblogs sometimes and when those waters get muddied it has a poor tendency to just kill askblogs. Because of how RP blogs function entirely differently to askblogs, if your askblog becomes too much of an RP blog it will become only an RP blog, and you will probably completely stop getting askblog asks because the askblog audience doesn't want to rp. Askblogs and RP blogs are similar in theory but very different in execution and attempting to combine them rarely goes well. You will just end up with one or the other and if you were hoping to make one, getting the other will probably leave you confused and disappointed. Also keeping RP blogs active is a completely different beast - that one is just general RP rules. Make your character and go find an open RP to join or community accepting new members and just hop right in. If the RP fizzles out the RP fizzles out, that's not something you can really control. It's the cons of collaborative writing. Askblogs are entirely in your hands, so you can control how active it is. It just comes down to your own engagement and enjoyment with the thing. Just remember: Ultimately, an askblog is for you, the creator of the askblog. Be as self-indulgent as you want. In fact, being self-indulgent is highly encouraged! Because that's how you personally stay invested in your own project. Never feel like you're forced to keep doing it - it's just for fun and for your own amusement. As long as you're having fun and keep going with it, you will attract an audience that will love it as much as you do. You don't need to post every day, or even every week or whatever - take as many breaks as you need.

So tl;dr:

Set up your askblog as much as possible before you post anything.

OPEN YOUR INBOX

Post general fandom content separately alongside your intro/ad post so you are more likely to get traction to your askblog

Don't be afraid to ask your friends to send you asks, or send yourself asks if you need.

Have something going on or switch things up from time to time (or give a means for anons to switch things up) so people have more stuff to ask about or generally feel encouraged to ask things/interact, such as events, plotlines, and/or magic!Anons.

The more you stay active, the more people will see your blog and engage with it

Ultimately the blog is for you, so make it something you will want to stay invested in and feel like you can keep active with and that you enjoy, and people will become invested in it alongside you. If it helps at all - the audience is theoretical and/or ever-changing. You are a guarantee. So cater to you because you know above all else that you are always going to be there.