#signature beagle

[yeoldwebkinzcollector]

doguary day 29; ft Bastion and Shilo, a father daughter duo!

[paper-starz]

A very big analysis on the new Welcome Home update

HELLLOOOOO EVERYONEEEE I havent done one of these in a while, but omg the newest update was everything I ever hoped for and more!! So today, we'll be talking about EVERYTHING (+ lil theories here and there)

BIG BIG SPOILERS AHEAD

Julie Joyful, Insecurity, Pressure, and Toxic Positivity

This update really gave us some interesting insight to the star of this update, Julie.

Julie is a rainbow monster, and a very happy one as her name would imply. And yet, she's not really like the rest of her family. She looks different from them for instance.

Her brother Jonesy states that rainbow monsters 'stick with one color', which means that they only stick to one color and don't really wear other colors. Even Julie's bio states how different in appearance Julie is from her siblings.

Recent evidence has revealed that Julie’s family consisted of a "band" of rainbow monsters that were a monochromatic color palette rather than a full rainbow like Julie herself.

Sure, Julie does have pink in her color pallete, she also has an array of other colors! Her hair isn’t a shade of pink, it’s yellow. Her legs aren’t a shade of pink either, it’s blue and green.

Franny also states that while horns come in different shapes and sizes, the bigger the better obviously. Julie's horns however are very small compared to the rest of the rainbow monsters.

Not to mention that she seems to forget or miss valuable information about rainbow monsters and Franny has to keep correcting her over and over again.

"There's more than that, Julie!" and "Missing things again, Julie."

And unlike her siblings, she lives away from them, which is unusual for a rainbow monster, where they normally live in a band.

She also doesn't seem to have an instrument, as stated in the Springtime Salutations book, "Julie, however, is her own instrument."

Speaking of the book, she also woke up too early for springtime.

And while her siblings were kind enough to bring Spring early this time, that doesn't mean that Julie wasn't affected at all by this. She knows how different she is from the rest of her siblings, and she's insecure about this fact.

This all culminates with the black flower, the one flower that she cannot bloom.

Rainbow monsters have a responsibility during Springtime. Franny melts away the snow with the morning dew, Jonesy makes the grass grow, Bea makes the sun shine, and Julie makes the flowers bloom. That is Julie's job, her one job of the entire year.

If she can't do that properly, then she would be proving to her siblings that she is a faulty rainbow monster that cannot do things by herself, that she cannot function properly away from her familial support. Which is the reason why she's so adamant on not rejoining the band, despite her siblings best efforts to sway her.

FRANNY: (With a commanding tone.) Back to us- Julie, when are you going to finally join our band? JONESY: Yeah, sis- What’s a rainbow monster band without its dynamite drummer? BEA: (Wistfully said.) Just think of it, sister dear… A colorful quartet pushing the seasons! JULIE: (Nervous and hesitant) That sounds… (Pretends to be losing signal) Oop- Oh no! The sounds! We’re breaking up!- (Whispering harshly.) Hang up the phone, Frank! Hang up!

And that's not to mention that she feels insecure not only towards her siblings as a rainbow monster, but also in the neighborhood.

She states that while she gets along well with everyone in the neighborhood, she's not particularly close with anyone besides Frank. Barnaby and Howdy tease her which probably makes her feel even more insecure, particularly in her ability to make others laugh, which again, brings JOY to people.

While she likes Poppy, Sally, Eddie, and Wally, again, she's not particularly close with either of them. Frank seems to be her only form of support in the neighborhood.

And yet, this particular scene is interesting, because according to Julie in The Julie Guide to being Joyful, her relationship with Howdy and Barnaby in particular are different.

She seems like she's lying to Wally and perhaps to herself that she has a great relationship with EVERYONE in the neighborhood, she's Julie Joyful! She's happy all the time and everyone loves her.

And yet, Wally seems to call her out on this. Both in the storybook and in the /regardforgetfulnesssilence link.

"Did all that really happen, Julie?" He says, as if he knows that Julie is lying but wants her to tell the story again. Reword the story so that she's telling the truth, but she doesn't want to. It's easier for her to live in a lie.

Which is another reason why she doesn't want to go back to her siblings. She would have to leave, not the neighborhood, but Frank. Her only form of actual support.

(Said inside her head. It sounds like static. ) If I can’t make a flower bloom, if I can’t bring Springtime around- What would I do? Will I have to leave? Will I have to go back? I’d just-

While I do believe her siblings love her and Julie does love them back, again, they make her feel insecure as a rainbow monster. Her older siblings always manage to get their job right, they have monochromatic colors, their horns are bigger, and unlike her, they never wake up too early for springtime.

JULIE: Hi, Wally! And hello to my sweet saccharine siblings! FRANNY: Is that our youngest sister here? JONESY: She’s our sweetest too- BEA: Don’t forget our most colorful! Julie, what could YOU need help with? You’re one of us!

Ironic how Bea says this line. Julie doesn't feel like one of them. She doesn't feel like a rainbow monster. Her one job of the entire year is to make the flowers bloom and if she can't do that, then what use is she?

This is why she is so terrified of that flower. That one flower that she cannot bloom. Its a crack in the joyous facade that she created. Sure, its just one flower, but what if its two next Spring? 10 after that? Whole fields of wilting flowers, dead flowers? Because of one mistake of waking too early and bringing in Spring when the time just wasn't right?

Then she would have to leave Home, and leave Frank. And its no surprise that she holds Frank in such a high admiration. He's the smartest neighbor in Home and he's her only true friend. She's especially terrified of disappointing him in particular.

Because while I do think Julie sees Frank as her best friend, I believe that because of the Sweet Briar book, Julie sees Frank as some sort of prince in shining armor coming in to save her.

Note that she doesn't view Frank in a romantic light, when the scene came for Frank to awaken princess Julie from her slumber with a kiss, Julie just jumps from her bed and the kiss just never happens.

Frank is her only person in the neighborhood that actually supports her and her only true friend, thus, Julie sees Frank as someone that's saving her. Keeping her away from the dangers of leaving with her siblings and going away, thus losing Frank (and her support), and perhaps even away from the responsibility of being a rainbow monster.

"I'm doing the best that I can, but it's nice to let someone else lead."

As mentioned before, if Julie joins the band, she'll be the drummer. However, Julie is her own instrument, she marches along to the beat of her own drum lol.

The drummer's role in a band is to provide the rhythmic foundation of the group, providing a steady beat and tempo. A drummer's role is pretty strict, if they mess up (like if they come in too early or if they become off-tempo), that messes up the entire song.

Julie already knows that she's not that great of a rainbow monster, she messes up constantly, forgets facts that a rainbow monster should know, wakes up too early for Spring, and can only make MOST of the flowers bloom. If she goes back to her siblings, joins their band, and becomes their drummer, then she's not only risking messing up her job of making the flowers bloom, but also the rest of her siblings' job. What if she misses just one beat? Would that jeopardize everything? What would her siblings say if she messes up and makes them mess up too?

What will happen to Springtime? Will the grass and flowers die? Will the sun never shine? Will the rain never come to wash away the snow? Will she trap the entire neighborhood in an endless winter?

It's a risk that Julie just doesn't want to take. This is why she starts getting more and more aggressive towards the black flower, because it's jeopardizing her stay at the neighborhood, and threatening her to leave everything behind.

Which leads us to the ending of /tearsremembranceinstability, Julie gets more and more agitated towards the flower. Flat out threatening it when it's not going to be blooming anytime soon.

"You won't be around for much longer--" "I'll never see you again, no one will, no one will ever know you were here--" THOSE SOUND LIKE THREATS!

Which leads me to believe that Julie did something awful to that flower. Either she forced that flower to bloom, or she killed it.

What ever she did to that flower, Frank witnessed it. And Julie knows what Frank saw.

But then, something strange happens.

This weird little bug flies in at the end and stares at us, the viewer.

And we have seen this bug before! On the miscellaneous section!

Opening the image under a new tab reveals that this toy is called a 'buggle'.

While it is a cute little toy, it seems out of place for this thing to just pop out. It feels random.

But ah! It is NOT random dear viewer!

Taken from the awayfrompryingeyes.net site.

'Buggle' sounds like a mix of the word 'bug' and 'beagle'. AND CAN YOU GUESS WHICH NEIGHBORS HAVE A CONNECTION TO THE WORDS BUG AND BEAGLE????

Frank, Barnaby, and Howdy! Three neighbors that have had an impact on Julie's insecurities.

Both Howdy and Barnaby make Julie's insecurities worse. They constantly tease her, with Barnaby in particular saying that he doesn't find Julie's jokes all that funny and Howdy saying that she better get some new material.

Frank on the other hand alleviates those insecurities, making him a huge source of comfort, but to the point that she's terrified of disappointing him.

The buggle seems to be a manifestation of Julie's insecurities and anxieties, manifesting itself during Julie's lowest point.

Which concludes to this. What will the next update be about?

Because our guy W definitely has some ideas...

Perhaps the buggle is foreshadowing, either the next update will be focusing on either Frank, Barnaby, or Howdy!

But i suppose only time will tell.

[sillycosmicrabbit]

He's such a silly good boy! ^^

[webkinztournament]

[jam3sacaster]

Oh, the whole world, it is sleeping. But my world is you. PT.1?

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

Suggestion by: A sweet anon🫶🏽

Song Inspo: Bloom, The Paper Kites.

Disclaimers: Reader character aged at 26. Short Work. Let me know if you’d like a PT2? Your sweet, soft life with Rupert & your family 🩷

It was a slow, gentle morning in Spring. A tender stream of sunlight washed through the sheer net curtains of the kitchen. Outside, daffodils had begun to rear their golden heads across the lawn of Penscombe Court. In the distance, a herd of sheep guided new, bouncing lambs across the valley. As Rupert Campbell-Black pulled himself from his deep slumber, he yawned and outstretched his limbs, his ears instantaneously being filled by cheerful chatter downstairs. Pulling on a navy blue towelling robe, he sauntered downstairs and was stopped in his tracks by a small boy, dressed in a white t-shirt and blue dungarees, ink black hair shrouding his head like a cloud. His cerulean eyes sparkled in the same way as Rupert’s. “Good morning, Arthur.” Rupert beamed, picking up the boy, who replied back in his own toddler chatter. “Ruff ruff!” Arthur babbled as Blue, the lurcher, and Rufus, the beagle, circled around Rupert’s ankles.

Rupert placed Arthur back down on the floor when they entered the kitchen, and he immediately toddled away to the corner to continue ramming his shiny red cast metal car into the skirting board. “Good morning, darling.” Rupert purred, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. You were sat at the dining table already, spoon-feeding a thick porridge to your plump-cheeked baby in the highchair beside you. “And how is my beautiful girl this morning?” Rupert cheered, pulling the baby from the highchair and spinning her around in his arms. Posie was almost six months old — with an angelic, cherub-like face, rosy cheeks and a belly laugh that even made Declan O’Hara smile. “Very greedy.” You replied, scooping up the last of the porridge onto a small blue spoon and stuffing it in Posie’s mouth.

The family that you’d both created often brought tears to Rupert’s eyes. The way Arthur’s eyes brightened when he smiled, just like Rupert. The way Posie danced with her shoulders whenever music was playing, just like you. The way the dogs create a protective barrier around both children when they’re asleep in the playroom. And, today would similarly not be short of familial joy. The spring sun was blazing, so you had lay a red tartan picnic blanket outside, alongside a wicker hamper filled with sandwiches, sausage rolls, lemonade and jam. Rupert had Posie in his arms, and was strolling briskly through the gardens, allowing her to bunch various flowers within her surprisingly strong fists. As he eventually took a seat on the bench just outside the French doors, Posie picking at the head of a tulip, Rupert sighed loudly, his eyes fixed on you playing with a collection of cast metal cars alongside Arthur, giggling fantastically as your son crashed them together. “You know, angel, some years ago I sat here. All alone. For lack of better words, I’d been a very naughty boy. I never, ever thought I’d be sat here with you all. My family.” He spoke solemnly to your babbling daughter. Posie lay her head against his chest as if, in some strange way, she’d understood it all. Keeping her head tightly to his chest, Rupert pandered back to the picnic blanket.

“Are you okay, love?” You asked, chuckling as Arthur crawled over to his father and rested his head upon his lap. You inched closer towards your husband, taking time to individually kiss everyone on their foreheads. “Most definitely.” Rupert beamed in response. “I love you all. So much.” He continued. Posie began her signature belly laugh as Arthur stuck his tongue out towards her. “My God. I love you all.” He spoke again.

[qadmonster]

Listen to an old man ramble about his oldest abandoned world-building endeavor in an attempt to show vulnerability to the judges:

When we were kids, my sister and I came up with a story idea about a 12-year-old girl named Naya Somerville that climbs into an old toybox and ends up in the land of monsters. I've held onto this idea for ages and it's gone through a lot of iterations and changes over time as I got inspired by other things, but I don't have any official documentation or story beats written or planned out, nor do I know what medium would be best for the ideas I have.

Over time the story went from her magically traveling to the world of monsters and trying to get home, to her being essentially spirited away and wanting to stay, to her just being kinda born there and setting off on an adventure to be like her hero "Adventure Girl" who was a Bindi Irwin style educational TV personality. One thing has remained pretty constant though, she has a little companion dog-like monster with a brash personality that has more knowledge about the monster world than her but also could fight, his signature attack being "Dog Paw Punch". His name was originally Poogle (from poodle and beagle) but that was stupid but I can't remember what I changed it too. His design got a lot more doglike.

Naya had other pals too, like a lazy silkworm that lived in a censer that could instantly make her cute new outfits and an octopus barber with a jamaican accent that would do her hair. At some point I thought to give her cellphone that she could use to summon her monster friends as she befriended them. I had lots of little story beats, but nothing concrete as I could never make up mind about anything. Like, one idea was that she had to fight alien ants from the moon to save the monster world. There was one where she has to get a bunch of flower monsters called Blahlias to the top of a treacherous moutain so they can get watered by the rain from a rainbow and transform into Dazzlinnias so a village can have a festival (or something). Junk like that. Really saturday-morning-cartoon type stuff.

The monster world itself was a really fun and interesting place filled with all kinds of stuff kids would gag for, like bubble rain and grass growing on the tops of clouds, and of course lots of monsters! I wanted a place that was really fun to adventure through, and I was inspired by the kind of crap I liked when I was a kid like Teddy Ruxpin and the Carebears and Alice in Wonderland. When I went to college and got into neopets I started coming up with all sorts of different fruits and vegetables that could be found in the world.

As far as the monsters I was really inspired by videogame monsters, not just pokemon and digimon but like rpg enemies and bosses and even enemies from platformers. The style was mostly heavily based on pokemon though.

Originally there weren't any human characters and the monster world was just filled with monsters, but I did try coming up with some humanoid races and that's how I got the Beastables who were basically half human and half monster/animal.

There was also a race of people that wore dome shaped helmets that covered their eyes and another human character, Archibald, who was sort of Naya's rival. He was a ginger-haired apprentice alchemist for some reason. Also, there where witches who were a race. They had no visible eyes (long bangs and big hats) and were all blue and purple and really kind.

I'd like to re-explore some of these ideas at some point. I think some of the base components could make for interesting little games, but I'd never be able to do a comic or anything like that. I came up with ways it could be a game, from a turned based rpg to an explortation based cozy game. Naya has shown up in other story and game ideas I've had but I still don't have a definitive design for her yet.

I like the idea of her being an adventurer and having a magical cellphone; but, I wonder where I can go from there (without being boldly and outright derivative).

Wow, you read all that? You rock! You igneous bastard.

[darkseidex]

✦ . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ LUELLA HOUSTON ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

Basic Information

𓆉 Full Name: Luella Audre Houston 𓆉 Age: 20 𓆉 Birthday: August 25 𓆉 Zodiac Sign: Virgo 𓆉 Ethnicity: Black

Physical Appearance

𓆉 Height: 5'8 𓆉 Build: Curvy with stretch marks and cellulite—the works. 𓆉 Hair: Thick kinks and coils, usually kept in protective styles under wigs or in braids when Austin takes her on trips. 𓆉 Tattoos/Piercings:

Nose piercing (has a small bump on her right nostril from a poorly healed one).

Back tattoo of lilies running up her spine (her favorite flower). 𓆉 Style: No defined aesthetic, but if you had to label it? Classy hoochie mama vibes.

Education & Career

𓆉 College: NYU (New York University) 𓆉 Degree: Integrated Master’s in Biochemistry (graduated early, skipped ahead in classes) 𓆉 Current Job: Researcher at Pfizer 𓆉 Future Goals:

Doesn’t want to stay in drug discovery forever.

Wants to contribute to cancer research or help develop birth control that doesn’t have a laundry list of side effects.

Personality

𓆉 Core Traits: Intelligent, independent, playful but guarded, nurturing but selective with her energy. Sassy as hell. 𓆉 Strengths: Quick thinker, emotionally intuitive, and confident but not boastful. 𓆉 Weaknesses: Avoidant in relationships, struggles with vulnerability, a bit impulsive. 𓆉 Love Language: Physical touch & words of affirmation (but she plays it cool), quality time. 𓆉 Biggest Fears:

Spiders & insects—nope.

Never living up to her fullest potential.

Heights.

Family & Background

𓆉 Siblings: Older sister, Neveah Maya Houston. 𓆉 Parents:

Very close to her mom.

Never met her dad (she thinks she saw him at a park when she was five, but her mom never speaks of him). 𓆉 Hometown: Houston, Texas

Homeschooled a lot because her mom moved around for work. 𓆉 Fun Fact: She’s ambidextrous.

Friendships & Relationships

𓆉 Closest Friends:

Jasmine "Jazz" O'Neil – Artist & Graphic Designer

Caleb Harrison – Med Student

Violet "Vi" Xander – Influencer (Met them all at NYU, ride or dies ever since.)

𓆉 Romantic Partner:

Austin Butler (current, situationship turned serious).

Formerly Timothée Chalamet (Austin still doesn’t know 👀).

𓆉 Pets:

Maine Coon cat named Cleo.

Beagle named Harvey.

Hobbies & Interests

𓆉 Music Taste: Loves R&B & Soul (Austin’s trying to get her into Elvis). 𓆉 Fitness: Gym? Rarely. Pilates & yoga are more her thing. 𓆉 Perfume Addict: Signature scent – Chanel Chance Eau Tendre. 𓆉 Secret Nerd: Lowkey is obsessed with science documentaries (won’t admit it). 𓆉 Party Girl: Has a reckless streak but knows her limits. 𓆉 Creative Side: Loves art & pottery.

Random Facts & Quirks

𓆉 She’s a mix of softness & sharp edges. 𓆉 Always glowing (Austin is to blame 😭). 𓆉 Treats a man like a trick & still has him ready to risk it all. (War flashbacks to Timothée 😭). 𓆉 Drunk habit: Calls Austin at 3 AM to pick her & her “lil friends” up. 𓆉 Hates raw tomatoes. Always picks them out of her salad & slides them to Austin. 𓆉 Hates Chris Brown with a passion. Actively praying that man gets shot—daily.

𓆉 Dragged Austin to the Renaissance Tour. He didn’t get it at first, but by the end, he was singing Heated with his whole chest.

[waylonskinz]

Hey guys!! I'm thinking of starting to carry around a specific plushie everywhere (besides Chili), and I need help choosing which one to be my buddy! Please help me decide lol

The options are!

My Signature Timber Wolf! I need help deciding a name for him too, he used to have one, but I don't like it anymore, and Im having trouble thinking of good names for him lol

Lucky, my Douglas golden retriever

Whiskey, my Douglas Springer spaniel

Wegman, my Douglas Weimaraner

And Latte, my Douglas beagle!

Please help me out by voting down below!

[amymaleneart]

I did it!!!

It feels so wonderful to get suddenly hit with motivation to draw out my imagination. And what's more I didn't keep getting stuck on the way!

This is alien!Sun and alien!Moon from my alien!au story Stardust Veterinary Care (previously named Alien Human Rescue). Their species are called the Cosmodians. Basically a hybrid of dog, cat and python with unusual rabbit-like ears that can range from having multiples to huge ears.

I'll eventually do a side profile showing that their faces are very flat like pugs. They don't have that great sense of smell but the pit organs that helps makes up for it by sensing heat signatures in their environment. They also have very sharp teeth more similar to wolves and bears and very wide mouths.

Hopefully I can do their bodies soon, but they a bipedal with 4 arms, 2 lion-like hing legs with dew claws (like raptors) and toe beans, and a lion/monkey prehensile tail.

They are four to five times bigger than your average humans. My go-to comparison has been a human to beagle ratio. They are also completely covered in short soft fur of any colors imaginable, but usually vibrant. They have tough hides so a human can't really bite though.

[the-wize-1]

Thawing the Widow (A Natasha Romanoff Story): Chapter 6 - Frozen Peas

Chapter Summary: Cat's plan kind of fails (is anyone surprised?)... but it also works out? Things happen and she’s reunited with a certain redheaded assassin.

Chapter Warnings: Talking about a mugging, playful threatening with a knife. This is and will be minor friendly! No smut in this story.

Notes: Nat returns this chapter! But this isn’t the last we see of Peter! Thank you to everyone who reblogged/commented/read so far! Getting notifications really encourages me and I enjoy each and everyone one of them. New chapters will come Monday/Thursday 5PM PST (I’m on time FINALLY). Also idk if I should make a tag list but if so lmk who’s interested! Happy reading!

Thawing the Widow Masterlist

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

"That was awesome!" Cat breathed as Spider-Man dropped her and Taco back on the ground. Her heart was still beating fast from the exhilaration. Swinging around New York was similar to riding a roller coaster, albeit a faster, steeper, more dangerous one with significantly less elbow room.

Spider-Man looked around the abandoned streets warily. "Um… are you sure this is where you wanted me to drop you off?"

Cat made sure she had the right dark alley. Granted, all the dark alleys looked generally the same in New York, but she had a great mind for directions. And she was pretty sure she was at the right place. If she squinted, she could spot a few familiar landmarks. And… there! If she could get a little closer, she could just make out the sliver of the door on the side of the wall.

The door of the safehouse.

"This is the one," she confirmed.

"If you're sure," he said. "Is there anything I can do to help? I don't think I have any cash on me— wait—" He awkwardly patted himself down for cash, even though Cat couldn't see how any pockets could possibly be hidden in the folds of his spandex. "Yeah, no cash. Sorry."

Cat suddenly had an idea. "Can I have your autograph?"

"What?"

"You know, to sell it," she said unremorsefully. "It might help me make some money. Sorry if that's offensive. I need everything I can get right now."

"Oh, that's really smart. I didn't even think of that. I don't have any paper, do you?"

Cat rummaged around in her backpack. She had a few souvenirs, a mug that was only a little cracked, some pieces of cardboard, and an I-Heart-New-York sweatshirt that was slightly too large for her. Lastly, she pulled out an extra thick sharpie. She'd gotten most of the items in the soup kitchen cupboards, or at homeless shelters.

Spider-Man quickly scribbled his signature on all of them, leaving little sweet but unnecessary notes. "Here you go."

"I'm really grateful for this," she told him.

Before handing the sharpie back, he paused. He stared at her for a long time. "Are you going to be okay?"

She glared at him. "Of course I am!" she said indignantly. "I'm tough, you know."

"I know. You're pretty neat, Cat."

"You're not so bad yourself, Spider-Man."

He awkwardly placed his hand on her shoulder, then removed it almost instantly. "Well, just know that if you're ever in trouble, I'll always be around. Just… scream for help, or something." He patted Taco on the head. "Bye, cute beagle." He shot a web up into a ledge of a building. He made a peace sign at her as he yanked himself into the air. "See ya, Cat!"

"Bye!" Cat called after him as he swung out of view.

I'll be okay, she thought.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

She was so not going to be okay.

"Damn," she swore under her breath, jamming her knife in the lock for the eighth time in the dim hopes that it would work that time.

Cat dug it in harder, twisting and turning every which way. She was waiting for the telltale clicks and shifts, but they didn't come. Instead, the knife was met with a stubborn wall that blocked it from moving in further. She'd been there for at least ten minutes, with a sinking heart. They'd changed the locks.

"Damn it!"

Taco barked. Cat liked to imagine she was sharing her frustration.

Frustrated and disappointed, Cat gave up. Plan A was a no-go. She'd have to find somewhere else to sleep. Which actually really sucked, because it was freezing. The wind was blowing with a frigid ferocity that night. She tried to yank the knife out of the lock, but it was stuck.

She swore again, tugging at the knife, but it stayed stubbornly stuck. Her grip slipped and she fell backwards onto the ground, landing hard. Oww. She groaned. Taco jumped up and padded over to her, licking her face.

Despite Taco being adorable as always, Cat was miserable. Her hands and face were numb with cold. She could hardly feel her fingertips. She was shivering in her feeble, tightly stretched coat and thin leggings that offered no protection from the cold. She'd been looking forward to the warm, welcoming safehouse, but now even that wasn't an option. The good thing was, the cold did a good job of numbing the pain on her face and ribs. She had long gotten used to the throb of pain.

Cat got to her feet, shaking with exhaustion. She took a shaky breath, steeling herself. Her eyes narrowed and she gritted her teeth. Whether she was getting into the safehouse or not, she sure as hell was getting her knife back.

She rubbed her hands together, trying to generate some warmth into them. She wrapped her hands around the hilt of the knife, and raised her left foot to a position over the lock. Taco watched her with a perplexed expression, as if asking her what the hell she thought she was doing. Pushing off of her left foot, leaning sideways, she tugged at the knife as hard as she could.

The knife came loose. Cat couldn't regain her balance quickly enough, so she went flying backwards, slamming into the opposite wall with a sickening crash. She collapsed to the floor with a heap. For a moment, Cat laid there, breathing hard, and felt impossibly tired. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to fall asleep right there…

Then, she heard something moving behind the door. With a grunt of pain, Cat forced herself to her feet. She held her knife to her side, the slightest sliver of hope in her heart.

The door groaned open.

"You're making an awful lot of noise," Natasha said.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Natasha didn't say a word as she led Cat into the living room, and gestured to the table. Cat took a seat and watched as Natasha took out a bag of dog food from one of the cabinets and poured it into a bowl for Taco. Taco leapt on it eagerly.

"Do you have a dog?" Cat asked out of curiosity.

"No."

"Why do you have dog food?"

She shrugged. "Why not?"

Cat took that as a good enough answer. Natasha wordlessly passed her a box of Chinese takeout. The smell of it had been filling up the kitchen. Cat dug in the moment she had it in her hands, feeling impossibly luckier and happier than she had in weeks. She ate like she was starving— probably because she was.

Natasha was silent, watching her as she devoured the takeout. Once Cat had eaten almost half of it, she gently tugged it out of Cat's hands.

"Sorry," Cat said immediately, scooting back in her chair. "I didn't mean to eat so much, I just—"

"Relax," Natasha said. "I'll give it back. You don't want to eat too fast or too much, or you'll throw up."

"Right." Cat took a deep breath. "Thanks."

"Here."

Natasha passed her a mug of steaming brown liquid. For a moment, Cat got excited, thinking it was coffee. When she took a sip and the taste of hot chocolate slammed into her, she wasn't too disappointed. It was surprisingly good. She was mostly glad Natasha had decided to let her in at all.

Cat wrapped her hands around the mug, trying to let the warmth of the room envelope her in its embrace. She relished in the moment, having a warm place to stay, food, and water. She shivered, remembering that it was only temporary and soon she'd have to be back out in the streets.

Cat couldn't take the silence. "Do you live here?" she asked.

"Sometimes," she answered vaguely.

"How did you know I was outside?"

"Like I said, you were making a lot of noise. I didn't think that was possible, considering those walls are about two feet thick."

"You changed your locks," Cat said resentfully.

"It's called a safehouse for a reason," Natasha pointed out. "What would be the point if persistent little orphans like you could break in?"

"I didn't think anyone would be inside."

"And that makes it okay?" Natasha asked pointedly.

"Um… no," Cat said, trying to sound remorseful. "Sorry."

Another bout of silence passed. Cat was trying to think of a way to ask for the takeout back. Her hunger was still rearing its little ugly head inside of her. But Natasha was holding the box just out of arm's reach.

"What happened to your face?"

"Nothing."

"I said, what happened to your face?" Natasha asked again, this time with an edge to her voice. Her eyes had narrowed.

"And I said," Cat fired back, "nothing."

"I gave you food," Natasha pointed out. Cat eyed the takeout box. "I could've left you out there in the cold. The least you could do is give me a straight answer."

Cat bit her lip. That was true. What would be the harm in telling her? Her stomach whined, yearning for the takeout. Still, some part of her didn't want Natasha to know. She stayed silent.

Natasha sensed the shift in her silence. She pushed the takeout box toward Cat, just a little. Cat reached for it, but then Natasha pulled it away. Cat looked up at Natasha with a mixture of betrayal and confusion. No food?

"Answer the question, and you can have it."

Cat scoffed. "That's not going to work on me."

"We'll see," Natasha said with an infuriating amount of certainty.

Cat worked her jaw. She crossed her arms and leaned back, defiant. Natasha stared back with an equal amount of fierceness. Cat's stomach growled painfully. It was loud enough so that even Natasha heard. She raised her eyebrows. Then, the smell of the takeout got to Cat.

"I tripped."

"You tripped."

"Yes."

"Try again."

"Fine. I got mugged." Cat lunged for the takeout box.

Natasha held it just out of reach, again. "Excuse me?"

"You're excused."

"Who mugged you?"

"How do you expect me to know? They weren't keen on doing icebreakers, and there wasn't enough time for me to run a facial recognition program."

"What did they want?"

Cat crossed her arms. "I thought you said I only had to answer one question. This seems like a lot more than one."

Natasha passed the takeout box to her. Cat started eating with a fervor. She was starting to feel a little full, but too full was better than too empty. She'd learned on the streets that she never knew when her next meal was going to be. If overeating to the point of throwing up meant she could spend another night without starving, that was what she was going to do.

Natasha got up and left, then came back with a first aid kit and a bag of frozen peas. She watched Cat wolf down the food with a horrified fascination.

"Slow down. You're scaring me."

Cat made a show of chewing for a long time before swallowing. The food in the takeout box was almost gone. She polished off the last bit, feeling satisfied for the first time in weeks. She started on the hot chocolate next, tipping the mug over until the last drop fell into her mouth.

Finally, she settled back into the chair with a sigh.

Natasha passed her the bag of frozen peas.

Cat stared at the bag of frozen peas. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Put it on your face, idiot."

Cat pressed it to the bruise on her face. She winced. "Ow."

"Don't be a baby. So, what did the muggers want?" Natasha repeated.

Cat sighed, long and drawn-out. Natasha had been awfully nice to her. She was lucky to be in a warm room with hot chocolate and takeout instead of shivering out in the cold. The least she could do was provide her with a little information.

"Money. They saw me give, like, twenty dollars to this Girl Scout, but it was pretty much the last of it. I kept telling them I didn't have any more, but you'd be surprised at how dumb they are."

"I'm not. How did you get away?"

Cat grinned. "Oh, funny story, actually. You know that guy, Spider-Man?"

"Sure. We've met a few times."

Cat gaped at her for a moment, having forgotten that Natasha was the Black Widow. She probably had met Spider-Man before. "You have?"

Natasha shrugged. "He's a good fighter. He's a bit of a talker, but a decent guy. We didn't really do the whole 'getting to know you' thing. We were mostly focused on trying to beat the crap out of Steve and his groupies."

Steve… Cat thought. Who was Captain America. Natasha was on a first name basis with Captain America— obviously— which was so cool.

"Yeah, anyway, Spider-Man swooped in and beat up all the muggers and stuck them on the wall. Then he swung me here. I asked him to autograph all my stuff so I could sell it."

"Hmm." Natasha moved the bag of peas from Cat's eye to see the bruise. "How hurt are you?"

Cat's ribs were aching, but she knew they weren't broken. Maybe bruised. It was mostly her face that was hurting, but the frozen peas had done a good job of numbing the area. "I'm fine. My ribs hurt a little, but—"

Without warning, Natasha reached out and prodded her side. Cat yelped, more shock than hurt, and thrust her hands up in front of her to defend herself.

"Jesus! Could you warn me before you do that?"

"Where does it hurt?" Natasha asked unapologetically.

"Just… like, around here."

Cat stayed stiff as Natasha pressed lightly against her ribs, examining them. "They're just bruised," she told her.

"Yeah, looks like it."

"You know, I could've told you that if you'd just asked instead of prodding me like some kind of lab rat."

Natasha straightened, looking her in the eye. She had an unnerving habit of doing that. Her piercing eyes were impossible to avoid. "So, tell me. What's your plan?"

"My plan?" Cat echoed.

Natasha raised her eyebrows. "Yes. Your plan for living on the streets, finding a job, feeding yourself, making sure you don't die. Unless you don't have one?"

"Of course I have a plan," Cat said, not wanting to admit that she did not, in fact, have any sort of plan. "I'm going to go to homeless shelters and the soup kitchens to get food. And I'm going to get a lot of canned food from pretending to be a Girl Scout. And I'll learn everything I need to know in the library— Don't make that face!"

Natasha's smirk reverted into a suspiciously convincing blank expression. "What face?"

"Like you think I'm some silly little kid who has no idea what she's doing. I'm really good at memorizing things. I could learn everything I need to learn in the library— You're making the face again!"

The second time, Natasha didn't bother to disguise her skepticism. "Yeah, because it's a crappy plan."

"It's not a crappy plan."

"Really? Then why'd you end up here, of all places?"

"Because I—"

"—had nowhere else to go?" Natasha finished.

She took Cat's sulky silence as an affirmation and plowed on.

"You don't have a consistent source of income. How do you expect to pay for things like new clothes, necessities, or literally anything you need to survive? You're also an easy target because you're young and you barely know how to defend yourself. You got mugged, which I promise will not be the worst situation you'll find yourself in, and you only just scraped by."

"I can defend myself," Cat protested. She thought she did a rather good job of fending herself off against the muggers, considering the circumstances. "I have a knife!" She grabbed it from the pocket of her jacket and pointed it at Natasha.

What happened next Cat almost couldn't explain in words. It happened so quickly. In one swift motion, Natasha lunged over the table and did something weird and uncomfortable with her arm, twisting and maneuvering it forcefully so that Cat's shoulder slammed down on the table. Cat glanced up, straining her neck, to see that the knife had made its way into Natasha's grip. It all happened in a matter of seconds. Cat could've blinked and missed it.

"What… the hell," she breathed. Also, ow. Her shoulder.

Natasha released her. Cat grabbed her shoulder, wincing. "Just because you have a knife doesn't mean you can defend yourself." She examined the knife distastefully. "This a kitchen knife."

"That wasn't fair," Cat grumbled. "You're the Black Widow. I stood no chance."

"So? You think a bunch of muggers are gonna go easy on you just because you're a little homeless girl? Haven't you've already learned that?"

Cat crossed her arms. "Okay, I get it. My plan is a crappy plan. It's not like you have a better one."

"Of course I do. I'll take you there myself."

All at once, alarm raced through her. Cat's feet slammed onto the ground. She pushed the chair away from the table with a loud screech and stood up. "You're not taking me to CPS."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "I'm not. Sit down."

Cat lowered herself back in the chair cautiously. "Then where are you going to take me?"

"I own an apartment not far away from here. I barely use it, so you could crash there for the time being."

For several moments, Cat couldn't speak. "W-what?"

"What is it with you and making me repeat myself twice?" Natasha groused. "Did you not hear the first time?"

"I heard," Cat snapped, recovering quickly. "Does it have heating?"

"Yes."

"And a plumbing system?"

"Yes."

"And coffee?"

Natasha frowned. "Of course."

"And Fruit Loops?"

"No."

"Oh."

"I could get some Fruit Loops," Natasha offered.

"Thank you," Cat mumbled, staring into the distance. This was impossible, right? There was no way something this good could happen to her. Her attention snapped back to Natasha, who was still staring at her.

"Why are you helping me?" Cat demanded. "This isn't a trick, is it?"

"Are you always this paranoid?"

"Wouldn't you be?"

"Fair enough," Natasha admitted. "But you just have to trust me."

"I don't trust anyone," Cat said.

Something changed in Natasha's expression. Her eyes were faraway, looking into the distance. "You remind me of myself," she said. "I didn't want to rely on anyone either. But sometimes it's better to have people around you, people who are going to catch you when you fall."

Cat thought it was a bunch of bull. The more people she trusted, the more likely they could hurt or betray her.

"Anyway," Natasha continued briskly, abandoning her dreamy-eyed gaze, "you don't have any other choice. You can choose to go back in the streets and inevitably end up starving, poor, and out of options. Or, you could come with me."

"You promise you won't call CPS?"

"Sure."

That wasn't convincing enough for Cat. "I don't believe you."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "What, you want me to swear on a blood oath or something?"

That gave Cat an idea. She stuck out her pinky finger. "Pinky promise."

Natasha looked down at it. "This is hardly a legally binding contract."

"Pinky promise," Cat insisted. "The most unbreakable of promises."

Natasha linked her pinky with Cat's.

Cat nodded importantly. "The deed is done."

Natasha shook her head, bemused. "You're ridiculous."

Cat got to her feet. "So when are we leaving?"

"Slow down there, Turbo." Natasha got up as well and led her to the couch. Taco had noticed and followed them. "You look like you're about to kneel over. When was the last time you slept?"

When was the last time she'd slept? She honestly couldn't remember. "I don't know."

"Sleep first. Then we'll go."

"Okay," Cat agreed, too tired to argue. Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and everything hurt. She just wanted to fall asleep and never wake up. She laid down on the couch, resting her head on the arm rest. Taco jumped up and laid on her chest. It was a lot more comfortable than the chair she'd been tied to the first time she'd been here.

"Hey," she said with her eyes closed.

Natasha's voice came from a little to her left. "What?"

"Can you teach me how you did that knife thing?"

Cat didn't hear Natasha's response, because she was already drifting off to sleep.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Notes: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think! Also my asks are open so feel free to drop anything there too!

[imaginatorcreates]

Commission for Toast (@sketchy-tour)!

Toast here asked me to make a tune for their Welcome Home OC, Dandy Leon, and the lovable Wally Darling. A sort of love song, if you will. Add on top of that an idea for a written scene between the two and you have this!

(Also I'm eating up your comments in Discord, please know that /pos)

This is my 29th creation. This is for Dandy Leon and Wally Darling. A song of spring, being in bloom, and many references to Dandy's Delights (for this is a tune with Dandy in it!). The goobers are waltzing in the garden and having fun little stumbles, but they're enjoying themselves because the world is in bloom.

Painted Flowers

25 March 2024 — 26 March 2024

Summary: Wally wants to paint someone to day. But who should he paint? Barnaby suggests to him, "Why not Dandy?"

Word Count: ~2.8k words

TW: None

Author’s Note: Enjoy! Also on AO3 as a gift.

One day, Wally Darling woke up and decided that he was going to paint today.

If someone were to ask him why, like his best friend did when the large blue pooch stopped by the painter’s sentient house, he couldn’t explain it. “I just want to paint today, Barnaby,” Wally said in his signature monotonous voice. He pocketed some of his paintbrushes and tubes of acrylic paint in the pockets of his blue cardigan as he added, “I have a problem, though.”

“Eh? What’s botherin’ my lil’ apple today?” Barnaby B. Beagle asked as he leaned against Home’s outer walls. The dark blue ear closest to the front door perked up as he joked, “Ain’t it too early to feel gray? I thought that was Frank’s job!” The dog howled in laughter, then in mock pain as Home lightly smacked him with his door. “Alright, alright! I get it Home!”

Wally laughed a quiet little “Ha ha ha,” even though he didn’t quite get what was funny about the joke. The few times he had asked Barnaby to explain a joke to him, his best friend had groaned and placed a paw over his snout.

“A joke ain’t funny if I hafta explain it,” he had said, “but for you, lil’ buddy, fine. I will.” Barnaby had patted his shoulder to show that he meant no ill will with his tone, but that night and for the next few ones, Wally had tried and failed to squash the thought that he might’ve ruined his best friend’s jokes forever.

“Home, I get it. No makin’ fun of the sourpuss– Home!” Barnaby let out a few more laughs, then thumped at his chest twice as he cleared his throat. “Lil’ buddy, ya said ya had a problem?”

“Oh, yes. I have a problem.” Wally wordlessly gave Barnaby a blank canvas, then his folded wooden easel. The former was off white and lightly textured, while the latter was light brown with splatters of miscellaneous colors. The hinges were squeaky with use and no longer smelled of wood but instead, it smelled faintly of chemicals from the paints he used.

It was bad for him, according to Frank and Poppy, but he found it comforting. Could something that was bad also be comforting? He would have to ask someone about it.

But, that was for later. Another problem for later.

“I don’t know what to paint,” Wally said as he grabbed his palette, stepped outside, and closed the door. He craned his neck up, took a few steps away from his taller friend, then craned his neck a little less. “I don’t feel like painting red apples. But I like painting red apples. I don’t feel like painting you, but I like painting you too.” He fiddled with one of his paintbrushes, running the clean bristles over his fingers as he asked, “What should I do, Barnaby?”

“Well, gee Walls.” Barnaby furrowed his brow as he exhaled through his nose. “How’s about ya paint one of your neighbors?”

“Oh. That’s a good idea.” Wally paused stroking his fingertips with the paintbrush bristles, then resumed as another problem made itself apparent. “But who? Who should I paint today Barnaby?”

“Well, you can’t paint me! You said you didn’t wanna.”

“I still love you Barnaby.”

“Yeah, love ya too.” Barnaby started to thump his foot on the ground, quietly letting out a low growl as he thought. “Who have ya painted?”

“I’ve painted you, Barnaby. I’ve painted Julie, and I’ve painted Frank. I’ve painted Sally, and I’ve painted Poppy. I’ve painted Eddie, and I’ve painted Howdy.” Wally counted off each neighbor on each of his fingers, and he was left with one finger left standing. “I’ve tried to paint Home, but Home is very large and requires a lot of time. I will finish Home’s portrait soon.”

Home creaked an apology.

“It’s okay Home.”

“Huh. How about ya paint one of our other neighbors?” Barnaby asked. “How’s about that one with the sunflowers in their yard? Dandy?”

“Dandy?” Wally stopped brushing his fingertips as the name bounced around his head, trying to attach itself to a face. Sunflowers in their yard…green…brown hat…flowers. But not Julie’s type of flowers. Julie’s flowers were loud and vibrant, brave and running towards what she loved. Flowers attached to Dandy’s name were bright, yes, but they were gentle. They curled away from harsh words and they bloomed in the quiet moments.

The painter gasped. “Oh! Yes! I should paint Dandy!” Almost at once, the floodgates in his brain opened. Ideas flooded his mind, breaking through darkness with shades of green and yellow and red. He almost wished that he was as big as Barnaby so he could walk further with each step. His plans of painting couldn’t wait!

Barnaby let out a howl of laughter and gestured to the main road with a jerk of his head. “C’mon lil’ apple. Let go get your sunflower’s portrait painted.”

“My sunflower?” Wally asked as the pair started on the journey to the gardener’s house. “Barnaby, the sunflowers belong to Dandy. And I will be painting Dandy, not their sunflowers.”

The blue dog snickered. “Alright lil’ buddy.”

Wally didn’t understand that joke either.

The sun shone down on the pair of best friends as they approached the earthy-colored house. Even from a distance, the yellow flowers stood tall towards the sun, almost greeting them with how they were turned towards them. Some were lightly tied to wooden stakes, but they still looked healthy.

Standing next to the sunflowers was a puppet with green felt, short and fluffy brown hair, and squarish glasses on their face. The sleeves of their brown cardigan were partially rolled up as they inspected some of the leaves of the sunflowers, their face deep in concentration as their mouth moved slightly with words that were too quiet to hear.

“Heya Dandy!” Barnaby barked out as the distance between the puppets started to close.

Dandy jumped and looked up from their work. Their eyes widened and they scrambled to dust off their clothes, roll down their sleeves, and step out of the thick of their sunflowers. “Wally! Barnaby!” they called back. “What can I do for y’all?”

“Funny, they called your name first Walls,” Barnaby murmured.

“That was supposed to be funny?” Wally asked.

“Eh.” Barnaby shrugged and turned his attention back to Dandy. “Wally here wants to paint ya.”

Wally watched as Dandy’s gaze rapidly turned to him, hovered for a moment too long, then turned back to his best friend. “Me?” the gardener asked as they pointed to themself. Their gaze turned back to Wally as they repeated, “You want to paint me?”

“Yes,” Wally breathed. “I want to paint you, Dandy.”

“I — ” The gardener's hands started to wave dismissively as their eyes dropped to the ground. “I don’t think I’m good enough to be painted! I’m a mess, and I have dirt on my hands. My hair is messy, and I have to send some flowers to Howdy’s — ”

With one swift motion, Barnaby unfolded Wally’s easel and placed it down nearby. He then patted Dandy’s head and chuckled at the yelp of surprise the gardener let out. “Re-lax Dandy. Walls here ain’t gonna eat cha alive!”

Wally’s fingers tightened around his cardigan for a brief moment. His eyes itched.

Not today. Not today.

Barnaby placed the blank canvas down on the empty easel and patted Wally on the shoulder before he bid the two shorter puppets farewell and walked away. “Peace out ‘n have fun! I’ll be at Howdy’s if ya need me!”

Wally waved goodbye to the blue dog, then turned his attention back to Dandy. “I will be painting you soon, neighbor.”

“Wally,” Dandy murmured. They kept looking at the ground, their voice even quieter than when Barnaby was there. Their brows were furrowed slightly and their mouth was pressed together in a thin line. “You don’t have to paint me. I think there are better neighbors to paint than lil’ ol’ me,” they chuckled. At the last half of their sentence, they sounded a bit like Eddie.

“I want to,” Wally countered. “I really do want to paint you.” He started to take out some of the acrylic tubes and laid them on the excess wood of the easel. He untwisted some of the caps to loosen them up, then carefully squeezed a bit of paint onto his palette one at a time. A bit of black and white in the corner for mixing, then green here and yellow there. Blue as well, and brown was very important.

“I woke up today and wanted to paint,” he confessed. “But I didn’t want to paint red apples or Barnaby, even though I love both red apples and Barnaby very much. Oh, thank you Dandy.”

The gardener blushed as they helped screw the caps of the paints back on. “I can getcha a cup of water for your paints. And a stool, if you want one.”

“A stool for the paint water would be nice, thank you.”

As Dandy hurriedly walked inside their house, Wally made it his mission to stare at the blank canvas with a paintbrush in one hand and his palette in the other. He had the subject, and he had the colors. He had the idea, no matter how faint it was. But now that he was here, with his subject nearby and with his colors laid out, the idea was rapidly vanishing.

His grip on the paintbrush tightened. The pose. How should Dandy pose? And any objects? Should they be holding anything in their hands? How much of Dandy should he paint?

He wanted to paint today, that he knew. But why was it so hard to paint?

“ —lly? Wally?”

The pompadoured puppet let in a sharp inhale of air and turned towards the voice.

Dandy gasped in return, backing away slightly. They bumped against the stool where an old cup filled with water sat, and they cried out to catch it as it wobbled precariously. “Golly! I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Wally said. He found his voice again — again; he was losing it…what year was it? — and forced himself to take a slow, calm breath. “I still want to paint you, Dandy. But, I’m having trouble imagining how I want to paint you.”

“Paint me however you want Wally, and I’m sure it’ll look nice.” Dandy’s gaze alternated between him and the ground, and their felt still showed hints of a blush. Pinkish, maybe red.

Like apples.

Wally slowly raised his paintbrush and started to circle it in midair, pretending that the ends of the brush were covered in red paint. He brushed an imaginary stroke upwards to make a stem, then two smooth lines to make a leaf. He liked apples. Those were the first things he painted.

What did Dandy like?

“Oh!” he gasped. “Dandy, can I paint you with sunflowers?”

“Sunflowers?” Dandy repeated. “The tall ones or the ones I picked earlier for Howdy’s?”

Wally paused. He looked at the sunflowers that towered above their heads nearby. Instead of looking friendly, they now looked intimidating. “I want to paint you with the sunflowers closer to your face.”

“My face? Oh, you’re going to paint my face?” Dandy’s hands waved, though not as erratically as Julie. “Can’t I hide behind my sunflowers? I’m a mess like I said and the sunflowers are more beautiful than I am and — ”

“Dandy.”

Dandy stopped.

“I think my neighbors look beautiful on my canvas because I paint what I see.” Wally’s smile widened as he added, “And I think the painting I want to do with you and your sunflowers will be beautiful too.”

If Dandy’s face could turn into a pretty red apple, it would. The gardener sputtered something before they stumbled away and stumbled back with a large bouquet of sunflowers in their hands. Dozens of yellow petals shone outwards, almost giving Sally a challenger for the brightest one in the neighborhood. In their centers, hundreds of seeds created a dark contrast.

In the middle of it all, Dandy’s face was buried in it.

Wally didn’t mind so much. He needed to paint the sunflowers first.

So began the long and slow process of mixing colors to create the right shade, then applying them onto the canvas in gentle strokes. The petals were abstract shapes at first, radiating from a circle of darkness in the center. As Wally switched brushes and added details, the sunflowers gained personality. Individual petals started to differentiate, and someone could pluck out the seeds if they wished to.

He dipped the brush in the murky paint water and started on the puppet. He looked around the canvas and saw Dandy’s face still buried in the sunflowers.

That was no good.

He placed the paintbrush on the stool and slowly approached them. “Dandy. Could you lift your face up please? I need to paint it.”

Dandy hesitantly complied, but most of their face was still covered by yellow petals. “The sunflowers are more beautiful,” they faintly insisted. “They’re in bloom.”

“You are in bloom too,” Wally said. Despite his brush hand smelling slightly of paint, he reached out and cupped his hand against Dandy’s cheek. He gently lifted their warm face up and out of the sunflowers and said, “You are in bloom, Dandy. Like the sunflowers, and the apple blossoms.

“I woke up and wanted to paint today. I wanted to paint, and you are in bloom. Why should I not paint a beautiful bouquet of sunflowers and the neighbor that grew them?”

A long, palpable pause stretched out between the two. Wally wondered if he made a mistake with this. He knew that Frank didn’t like to be touched very often, so what if Dandy was the same?

Then, Dandy slowly smiled. Their smile radiated through the sunflowers, and for a second, Wally thought that the gardener was the most pretty flower he’d seen.

His own smile widened and he withdrew his hand. “This…this is the most! I will paint this now!” He swiftly came back to his canvas and started mixing the right shade of green. The portrait slowly came together. First the general shape, then the details. The highlights came last. A few broad strokes for a blue sky, and…!

“Dandy, it’s done.” Wally placed each used paintbrush into the murky paint water, one by one as he waited for the subject of his painting to shuffle around the easel to look at his work.

On the canvas, were dozens of sunflowers arranged in a strong bouquet intermixed with delicate petals. The sunflowers themselves were made of strokes of yellow and circles of black, highlighted by elegant lines that made each detail pop. In the middle of it all, was a puppet whose smile was the centerpiece of the painting. Eyes slightly squinted shut from how wide they were smiling, a hint of red on their cheeks, and hands that held the entire bouquet together by their stems.

A gasp followed by a squeal of joy. Hand waving and heel bouncing briskly followed, alongside quiet bursts of “It’s so beautiful!” and “The detail on the sunflowers!”

Wally watched Dandy go through several levels of joy and awe, and the semi-permanent smile on his face softened. His partially-lidded eyes took in the small details: brown eyes that sparkled at the work of art on the canvas; the little yellow flower on their hat that never wilted; gentle flowers that reached towards the sun, fingers curling around the drops of light and holding it close.

Quiet.

“Do you want to keep it?”

“I…I shouldn’t.” The light was escaping from their fingertips.

Did he do that?

“I insist. I would be honored if you took it.” Wally gingerly took the still-drying painting and held it out towards Dandy. “I want you to have it.”

Dandy’s mouth pressed into a thin line as they looked down at the ground for a moment, then thrust the sunflowers in front of them. “Take these. I’d feel bad if you didn't have something in return. I can always get more for Howdy, it’s not a big deal.”

The next minutes were spent juggling an exchange; between trying not to touch any paint on the canvas and not dropping any sunflowers on the ground, the two spent an excessive amount of time trying to give each other the items. In the end, Dandy was left holding their portrait and Wally had a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand.

Dandy lightly bounced inside their house, and Wally was left outside with a sunny-smelling bundle of flowers counteracting against the chemical scent of his acrylics. He buried his face within the flowers and deeply inhaled. Between strong whiffs of paint, he breathed in drops of sunlight.

“The most,” he exhaled. “These are the most.”

For the next several days, anyone who peeked in the window of Home could catch a glimpse of a vase filled with cut sunflowers. They were perky and alive, and it certainly complimented a fresh red apple that always sat next to the vase for as long as the sunflowers lived.

[lucarihoe]

What breed of dog would you like them to base a Pokemon on? (Feel free to go in depth: their name, evolutions, typing, etc.)

Oh that is SUCH a good question!!! Plus I’m at work with doggos now so I’ve got PLENTY of inspo ;)

Okay to make things a bit easier let’s eliminate the ones already made so I don’t “create” a double (I’m also excluding Fox-like dog Pokemon such as Zorua and Eevee to make the list easier):

-Houndour/Houndoom- (Hound/Dobermann)

-Growlithe/Arcanine- (Husky/Tiger)

-Furfrou- [ANY Poodle (Specifically French bc of Kalos)/Komondor]

-Smeargle- (Beagle/Monkey)

-Lilipup/Herdier/Stoutland- (Yorkie/Shih Tzu/Scottish Terrier)

-Rockruff/Lycanroc- (Border Collie/Wolf)

-Snubbull/Granbull- (Pug/Bulldog/Pitbull)

-Yamper/Boltund- (Corgi/Australian Sheppard)

- Poochyena/Mightyena- (Hyena/Wolf)

- Electrike/Manectric- (Wolf/Pointing Dog)

-Riolu/Lucario- [Jackal (based on Anubis)/Man)

-Zacian/Zamazenta- (Wolves, but ancient Norse and Arthurian myths)

-Fidough/Dachsbun- (Dachshund)

-Maschiff/Mabosstiff- (Mastiff)

- Greavard/Houndstone- (Iberian Catalan Sheepdog/Briard)

- Okidogi- (Shiba Inu/Akita)

Okay SO after all of that out of the way, it’s time to make my own! 🤩 (I’m gonna make two silly ones bc that’s all my brain can create atm 😅)

- Puppercut (Normal/Fighting), based on a Boston Terrier/Boxer. Alone they are quite docile and make excellent protective partners for first time trainers; however in the wild they are often found in groups brawling one another until they eventually tire themselves out.

After enough experience is gained, it evolves into Boxcur (Fighting/Dark), based more on a Boxer but mixed with the Wolverine. Puppercut’s hands quadruple in size, mimicking boxing gloves, and it now becomes bipedal. Its behavior changes to that of a boxing coach, providing playful jabs to its trainer when it wants to communicate. When it or its trainer is threatened however, retractable claws emerge from its swollen fists and it becomes almost feral with rage. A simple itch behind the ear causes the Pokemon to regain its composure.

- Pebblit/Camine (a mix of “K-9” and “Mine”)/Rockhund. This would be a convergent evolution of the Rockruff/Lycanroc line, as it would look similar to them, but is in fact a completely different species as it has an extra evolutionary stage and slightly different typings.

No one knows how Pebblit (Rock, Ground) is formed. Its most common form is a whiling dust cloud forming just above the ground, similar to that of a tumbleweed. Legends say a spirit possessed the very ground above its gravesite which gave it its corporeal form; however leading Pokemon Researchers now theorize that common erosion from local Carbink contain properties that allow this Pokemon to form.

Camine (Rock, Ground) is the evolved form of Pebblit. Unlike typical evolution Camine can only evolve within crystal caverns due to the unique energy signatures found within. When close to evolving, Pebblit begins to emit a slight pulsing glow and nearby gem-infused boulders begin to gravitate toward it giving it a new form once complete. Camine bears striking similarities to Lycanroc, just not nearly as slick as it is comprised of jagged stones and sharp gemstones. The gemstones lining its body are used for reflecting light to move throughout its cavernous home without being seen. When spotted, it ejects the gemstones out of its body at high speeds. This has been known to lacerate trainers in the vicinity.

Rockhund (Rock, Fairy), is only formed when the light emitted from an eclipse refracts in the caverns Camine calls home. As beams of energy infused light hits Camine’s own gemstones, the Pokemon begins to absorb said light to fuel its final evolution. Rockhund now hovers off the ground by some unknown force, and its body has solidified into a more sleek and aerodynamic version of its previous form. With its body now entirely crystalline, it is often attacked by wild Sableye but easily fends them off with bright flashes of blinding light, rendering its attackers temporarily blind. Rockhund is often found in dens surrounded by numerous sparkling gemstones, Carbink, among other shiny treasures. Explorers often joke that finding Rockhund is your ticket to ultimate riches.

[doodleclownbunny]

INTRODUCING

The Beagle Hen Sisters

These are Barnaby's younger sisters if Miss Beagle had her own kids along with adoption Barnaby.

They are in the order of their signature color and Pecking order.

Here's some stuff about them. (Oldest to youngest)

Buffy B Beagle

She's the eldest sister and is usually the mediator of the siblings. She also helps her momma out the most and is more mature than the others. Even though she's not the head of the pecking order, she makes sure that Buttercup stays in line. She's always making sure shes not too aggressive or mean. But other than that, she kinda is very laid back. She's more aware of other people's emotions and she knows how to read the room. Her and barnaby are very close with each other. Being closest in age and all. She has Deadpan comedy or dry humor kind of style.

Buttercup B Beagle:

She's the second oldest daughter. Head of the pecking order. Mainly because of her persistent personality and her loud mouth. She loves her sisters and brother and will throw hands for them. She is very defensive of her brother Barnaby especially when anyone mentions that he is adopted or the oddball of the family. She kinda looks up to Barnaby a lot. She is super nosey and tries to meddle with her siblings and even her momma's social life. She usually gets her siblings into a ton of mischief and trouble due to her silly ideas and determined mindset. She can also be a bit mean and cruel unintentionally. She's working on that. Her form of humor is Aggressive humor and sarcastic humor

Basil B Beagle:

Basil is the sister who's always cooking as much as she's eating. She loves food and making meals for others. She may not be book smart, but she does have a lot of insight on life and she's known as the wiser sister and they always ask for her advice on love or relationships or how to handle conflict or how to get through a bad day. She has fun trying new foods with Barnaby and enjoys experimenting with new recipes for her famous lasagna. (Barnaby is usually the test taster) She is the older twin of Bertha but she doesn't quite mind her place in the pecking order below her. Basil also loved to read to her sisters and brother when they were kids. And when Blair the youngest was born, she usually was the one helping out taking care of her when momma Beagle was working. She has a more Self-enhancing humor and an Observational comedy style.

Bertha B Beagle:

The most intelligent sister of the sisters. She knows how to get her and her sisters out of trouble and the shenanigans (that buttercup's impulsiveness gets them in) with her ideas and cleverness. She hyper fixates on rocks and minerals a lot and could tell you all the different types of crystals and rocks there were for hours, but your ears would probably hurt afterwards. She may be incredibly book smart, but street smart and social awareness is out the window for her. Barnaby usually helps her out with that by explaining things to her. She also appreciates the rides barnaby gives her on his back when she loses her glasses. She also has a MASSIVE CRUSH on Wally Darling but he does not reciprocate. Usually her other siblings would joke around with her and she wouldn't know that they were joking until waaay later. But that doesn't mean she can't tell jokes herself. She's actually pretty funny too. She has a bit of an Affiliative humor style and has a slapstick comedy style.

Blair B Beagle:

Blair is the youngest and the only sister that isn't an adult yet (she's 16 y.o.) she usually is teased a lot and not taken seriously. That frustrates her secretly but she tries not to let it get to her. She's still trying to figure out who she is and who she wants to be. She is very close to Basil and Barnaby because they were usually the ones babysitting her when she was really young. She loves hearing jokes from barnaby and she sometimes wishes she was a dog like him. She has an interest in story telling and she loves deeper means to things and symbolizim. She would sometimes draw characters in her sketch book and in her head come up with wild stories and origins for them but wouldn't write it down ever. She's still trying to figure out what her style of humor is.

If you want to look at the different types of humor and comedy styles I used for them here is the link

But anyways here are the Beagle Hen Sisters

Ight

See ya

[spacetimesally]

Good day, toy fans and action figure fanatics! It's time for another Spacetime Sally action figure round-up and there's so so so much to get to this week, so let's jump right in, shall we? And, as always, you can check out previous action figure toy posts here.

Above, we have the Fight Pit Sally figure. Who can forget that classic episode where Sally was enslaved by the Kurnonian Sweels and forced to fight for their entertainment? Which gives us a nice segue into Sally's saviors from the episode, and fan favorite, The Beagle Crew! (And a big big thanks to GravHell's Garage/TheAnkhst for suggesting some coverage of The Beagle Crew! I almost forgot about these guys!)

Beagle Crew leader, Captain Joyce Janetti (left, original figure; right, 2nd series figure with her signature Wrist Blade weapon)

Beagle Crew Ace Pilot, Dallas Lawrence (left, the original Dallas; right, 2nd series Dallas and his resulting white locks after being shocked to near death by the Cosmic Witch, Shelluno)

Beagle Crew member, the Jack-of-All-Trades, Tripper (left, original figure; right, 2nd series figure)

Beagle Crew Security, The Assassin, Sno (left, Sno in Battle Armor Spacesuit; right, 2nd series Stealth Assassin Sno)

Beagle Crew antagonist, Space Sheriff Furl Knottie (left, original figure in Sheriff outfit; right, 2nd series, empowered Judge Furlington Knottie the Third, and his SurveillanceBot, I-Speye)

Beagle Crew antagonist, Constable Norman Ropes (left, in official uniform; right, 2nd series, Search & Destroy Constable Ropes)

A couple more Sally figures: Grease Monkey Sally; and a most sought-after Sally figure, Space Vixen Sally

Top Left: Ticker, the out-of-control bounty hunting robot built and programmed to do only one thing: KILL; Top Right: Metro SecurityBot, Officer Stomp; Bottom Left: the animated version of Aluminum Tony (who can also be briefly seen in, 'Connection Cornucopia' in his live-action form; Bottom Right: Trick-a-Dee Six, the NavBot gone rogue

And for the Beagle Crew's nasty ne'er-do-well antagonistic group, and the ones who had enslaved Sally, the Kurnonian Sweels, an advanced Sweel species (the more primitive Sweels were seen in 'The Exoneration of Sharkfeather')

Left: a weaponized/armored primitive wild Sweel; Center: Sweel Trooper; Right: Sweel BattleBot

Top Left: Douglas, the kind-hearted Sweel who assists Sally and the Beagle Crew in escaping, and who eventually becomes a member of the Beagle Crew; Top Right: Maiden Aurelie, the Sweel Assassin; Bottom Left: Commander Tallus; Bottom Right: Lord General Grah'Vez de Gra'Vho

Welp, that's it for this week's toy round-up and, boy, was it a doozy. Hope you had fun and if there are any Spacetime Sally figures you'd like to see in the future, just let me know, and I'll see what I can track down in the archive! Until next time, So Long, Space Cadets!

[loganslowdown4]

Sanders Sides:

All The Details! (2024-)

The Nightmare Before Spirit Christmas ALL THE DETAILS!

Why Is Sleep So Difficult? ALL THE DETAILS!

Little Hardcover Book ‘My Imagination’ from Moving On Part 1 Exploring Nostalgia

Patton Does ✌️ Like An Anime Girlie A Lot (FIGHT IN THE MIND JOYSTICK JOYRIDE/ANIME OPENING)

Details Noticed In ‘Yours’ Thomas’ New Song

Right-Handed Roman (Another Found in INCORRECT QUOTES VOL5)

Patton ’Surely You Jest’ Line (IQ4 Ad)

Thumbnail Covers For Incorrect Quotes Videos!

Roman/Logan Argument: LNTAO BTS 6 Year Anniversary!

Puppet Patton singing Mana Mana with Nate Beagle! (LNTAO BTS)

The Rainforest Rap For Real (Moving On Part 2)

Favourite Script Moments (What Makes The Perfect Gift)

Virgil’s Cake/Blueberries/Jam - Dec 19/24 Birthday

4 Sides Choreography; 7th Anniversary (12 DAYS OF SANDERS SIDES)

Janus’ Real Emotions (SVS: REDUX)

Gift Exchange 1 (12 DAYS OF SANDERS SIDES)

A Christmas Carol Storyline in EMBARRASSING PHASES

Funniest Joke F Word Face (CLBG)

Logan’s Back Benched Yelling (SvS)

Virgil’s Sally Makeup (NBSH)

What The Votes Represent (ATHD)

The POF Trailer is Absolute Cinema

See You Next Tuesday (CLBG)

Heracles Expression (SvS: R POF)

They Knew Janus’ Name For 2 + Years!

What The Scooby Doo Tag Really Meant (Embarrassing Phases)

SANDERS SIDES PHOTO SERIES SPREADSHEET update

Spider Marcus Bloop Basically Canon Origin Story (A NEW BLOOP PT 2)

Same Tshirt (TMVTH & Bizaardvark)

Being Selfish In The Mind Vs The Heart (Unintentional Foreshadowing)

The One And Only Time Patton Got Mad At Logan (TMVTH)

Roman Cutting Cakes With His Katana (HMOC)

Roman Being Supportive Of Patton (HMOC)

Patton’s Math (Hear Me Out Cake)

Logan’s Flame Joke (Hear Me Out Cake)

Patton Bought The Cake (HMOC)

Roman Including Logan (HMOC)

3 Bits Of Roman Lore (AOVD)

Hear Me Out Cake Part 2 All The Details

MLA Joke From Cartoon Therapy 3

Janus’ Book: The Brothers Karamazov

Logan Does Have Feelings (Losing My Motivation)

Bravery/If I Dare - Roman & Virgil in FWSA

The Ship Joke End Card (Q&A)

Casual Roman/Ron Burgundy Outfit Comparison

Nico’s Truman Show Button (FWSA)

Remus’ Doing His Signature Peek

L O Ga N - Logan Sings The Elements Title Card

Side Specifics Ep 1 - Logan Sings The Elements

Colour Matching Font & Table (Logan Sings The Elements)

Symbols from Old Sides Core 4 Banners Circa 2018/19(?)

SvS Script Flub: Original Blue Shirt?

Twt Thread First Tweets Found Mentioning Each Side’s Name

Janus Scales Being Left/Sinister

All TSS Eps Referenced In ‘If Wes Anderson Directed Sanders Sides’

The Amygdala & The Frontal Lobe 💜💙

Snake In The Jello (Remus Cake Birthday)

SANDERS SIDES EPISODES + EXTRAS LIST!

[wolf-among-mechs]

Unfortuantely can't send emojis for some reason so uh, for question things, red circle, red heart, and of course, yellow heart, wanna hear about your ride -@the-tired-merc

🔴 What factions (that you do not belong to) do you disrespect? Why?

The Draconis Combine has always been my archenemy. It is not a violent, burning hatred anymore but rather a quiet unending contempt. I was born into Wolf's Dragoons. I grew up on Hephaestus station. I got a bit... Seperated from them for a while due to... Steiner politics let us say. One day I simply heard on the news that Hephaestus station had been blown up over An Ting. There are no words in any human language that can truly express the rage I felt at that moment. The feeling that everyone I knew and cared about as a child had been killed in a single instant. The dragon was to blame I knew it. I swore a blood vengeance against the dragon and for every of their warrior I would take their blade as a trophy. A fate akin to being disowned of their mechs among their samurai once upon a time.

It would not quell my anger to merely say so. At night I would take my Black Knight and wander the nights on Yance I. With the old intact Star League era Beagle probe I was able to detect their lone mech patrols, with a burst of radio waves I disguised my sensor signature and struck mechs up close at the dead of night. Overwhelming them and quickly carving up their cockpits and taking their katanas from their pilots. Sometimes I had to kill them personally but that was more than fine enough for me. I even went hunting once with a sniper rifle in the woods. It came to a head when I proposed to melt down all the stolen swords into a weapon for the Black Knight. But my lance mates convinced me that if I did they would hunt me until the ends of the universe. I slowly started to simmer down and try to learn my enemy.

I am also not a fan of the clans but that is a lot more to do with the fact that they keep calling me freebirth dezgra when I punch their mechs... And also they could not stand to listen for one second to me about trying to fight a war in the inner sphere but that is a different story entirely. It is not a seething hatred though. Just... I do not like them.

♥️ Do you have a preference for ballistic, energy, missile, or other (e.g. melee/EMP/EW) weapons?

I generally prefer energy weapons. The PPCs for preference. Call it cliché if you want but I do enjoy casting manmade bolts of lightning from afar.

That is not to say I dislike other weapons. I do enjoy volleying enough missiles at a target to blot out the sun. The recoil of an autocannon firing is very satisfying and I do quite enjoy landing shots with a ballistic arcs... Well except the gauss rifle. It does not feel well with me. I know it is effective, I know it is good and the thought of accelerating a solid slug of metal to super sonic speeds by way of electromagnets should be a lot more fun than it feels. To me anyway.

I have had a had at working with electronic warfare systems such as ECMs and active probes. I think I find probes more useful in the end.

Where I truly shine though has always been that I use the mech as a weapon. Punch, kick, tackle and landing. You name it. Making the mechs move in such ways to make the entire world tremble from the impact is a true wonder. I remember one time in my early classes to prep for mech combat we were shown a slide of a Charger CGR-1A1. The other kids laughed but I simply looked and thought to myself, I can use that. After all. Most of the big guns on the field have better things to do than to hunt a lone Charger of all things.... That is until it is suddenly appears behind your fire support and punches open their cockpits.

💛What do I currently pilot. (OOC: It gets a little time fucky wucky here since Asuka here is part of an RPG campaign that hasn't gotten to the Clan Invasion yet. But this blog is an AU where she obviously got that far. Bear with me.)

I hate to say it but I am between mechs. I am waiting on a custom part for the refit of a Kodiak. So I do not have any fun stories to tell.

Let me tell you about my Black Knight instead. It was on Yance, a bit before the news as I told of earlier. The combine had uncovered a star league cache and found an intact black knight in there. Our mercenary company sent me to disable it and claim it for our own while the rest of my lance held off reinforcements. We fought for a while until I was able to gun it down and overheat and shut down. Losing the arm of my cataphract at the time. It was an all of nothing alpha strike which knocked over the black knight and render the pilot inside unconscious. After restarting the Cataphacts reactor I parked it ontop of the black knight and climbed in and took the pilot hostage.

It took two weeks to fix her up. I decided to add a few frills to it. Like red spotlights in the cockpit as to give it eyes in the dark. A bit of effect you know. A bit of showmanship a little fun. A bit of personality.... I may also have gotten fog machines and put them inside the collar of the black knight BUT ANYWAY. Me and it became known as the Oni of Yance after the annihilation of Hephaestus station from... Well you know. It came to the point that when we left Yance, shinto priests of towns and villages were putting up wards to scare away the Oni. The garrison was paranoid and barely dared to leave on patrols without large groups which also left many many blind spots in their patrols.

Shortly after that thanks to a friends contacts in the ISF we learned that my parents were being kept on a black site in combine space along with other members of the dragoons. We hired a dropship to take us there, putting outselves in debt hoping we would be able to pay back later, this was an opportunity too good to pass up after all.

It brought me back to where I first came. Back among Wolf's Dragoons. Our Mercenary company has practically been a subsidiary or sister company since. Through that I started upgrading and refitting the black knight. Eventually leading to the Black Knight BL-6XRD designated Slayer. Short for Dragon Slayer. It had a red mech sized sword in one hand though if I am going to be perfectly honest it was more of a slightly sharp club. It also had pulse lasers and a PPC. Oh actually I think I have have a recording of it.

(OOC: Please forgive the crumminess and scuff of it. It was probably my first time animating something. It felt like a good time to share.)

That came down to the wire let me tell you. She had her engine exposed and hit, lost most of her left torso and the left arm. It took her a while to put her back together but it was probably our finest moment.

I am not ashamed to admit that when we auctioned that mech off to charity. I cried myself to sleep that night. The Slayer had served me so well. It did not feel good to let her go. But time stops for no one I suppose. The funds for it went to good causes. I hope she got a retirement in a museum or something in the end. She deserved it more than I ever will. Damn it... I think it is beginning to rain over there now that I think about old Slayer... Oh yeah... It is raining all right.

Hey. Can I buy you a drink?