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Prom Dress Marcia!

[creepiecreator]

Did some paintings while watching the hot air balloon at Disney Springs

[creepiecreator]

I still don't get all the hate for Daniel being so attached to Mr. Miyagi and his Ideals. Daniel lost his father at a incredibly young age, and Mr. Miyagi took over that role. Of course he's connected with him! Of course he's doing what he can to pass down his teachings! It makes perfect sense from a character standpoint

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reblog this lucky flirtmetri or face the consequences.

[creepiecreator]

reblog this lucky flirtmetri or face the consequences.

[creepiecreator]

reblog this lucky flirtmetri or face the consequences.

[creepiecreator]

In Memorium

Precious memories begin to slip away for Terry Silver

Tw: Gore, blood, wartime stuff, ptsd stuff

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Life is such a fickle thing.

The birds have no issue with killing and consuming the bugs, the snake has no issue with consuming the bird, the hawk has no issue with slaughtering the snake. Such is the natural order of things. So, in theory with death being so common in the food chain, no one should bat an eye when a human dies, shouldn’t spare any distress, let alone tears. But that's why such things would only ever remain a theory.

So why, pray tell, was Terry Silver so incredibly horrified at this moment? Why could he not stop his limbs from shaking and his eyes going blank as the Vietcong soldier pulled the trigger, blowing blood and brain matter across the grass, the bits of bloodied skull that once made up his close friends head now decorating the grass like the ivory of a decoration he had broken long ago when he was nothing more than a toddler? If death was so natural, and war just another beast to conquer, why was he fully incapable of looking away from the corpse that lay a mere foot away from him now?

Blue eyes remained, unblinking on the bloodied mess on the jungle floor even as the soldier's jabbed their gun in between his shoulder blades, forcing him and his comrades to their feet, the image burning itself into his brain like a red-hot iron, forever scarring his psyche. He had always known that human life was fragile, he had always known that the wrong step, the wrong move, and it could snuff out your life. So why did he feel as if a piece of him remained on the ground with the broken remains of his friends as he was forced into captivity?

Those final few moments of Seth Lawrence's life would remain in Terry’s mind for the rest of his days, long after the war had ended and he and John had managed to return home. It remained in the nightmares that were so terrible, he would often wake in a cold sweat, feeling the need to break something just to feel some level of human again. It remained in the moments of quiet, where Terry had no one around except his tortured mind the sound of that gunshot would start to echo through his mind. Truthfully, it got to the point where he was finding himself to have moments where he would forget Ponytail’s face. It was never anything big. But sometimes. Sometimes when he tried to remember the good times that they had had before his friend’s final fate, something would be off. He’d remember his eye color wrong, blue-green eyes becoming purely green or even brown, his hair color being lighter or darker than it truly was, or even his smile being wrong. He knew it was wrong, and it drove him insane that he seemed to not be able to fully remember his friend’s face.

Furthermore, he wasted no time in commissioning a painting of him in order to keep him properly in his memories, enlisting the help of a few old photos from Kreese to make copies of them before they were returned to his former-captain. Terry had made sure that he had gotten the best for this little project too. He wanted it to be perfect. Unfortunately, perfection took time. In the year it had taken him to get the memorial painting, he had done his best to keep himself busy. He had kept busy with his work, of course he had. He had also set himself to coming up with the perfect area for this masterpiece, a plaque with his name, nickname and life, commissioned to be made out of a beautiful piece of sterling silver. Terry would make sure that this memorial would be fit for a king. Nothing less. And yet, despite his desperate attempts to remember him. In the time period it took for the painting to reach completion, he was still cursed to lose more little details of his friends. It was like a puzzle with a few missing pieces and no box. Until the only memory that he knew was certain to be complete, was that of Ponytail’s lifeless corpse, his head nothing more than a gory mess, a brain with a lifetime's worth of memories spattered on the jungle grass.

And what killed him the most. What absolutely destroyed him. Was that the body was more likely than not still there so many years later, now nothing more than a skeleton lying below the ground in the middle of a country that was not his own. When they had gotten back to their home, having a burial without a body for the man who had been so close to them. Hell. He still remembered Johnny having to help poor Laura and Johnny when the gunshots started to go off, it was too much on the blonde baby boy’s little ears. He remembered thinking that a burial without a body was nothing more than a show. A sham. He remembered that the nightmare he had had that night had been the worst of them all, resulting in many shattered valuable vases and glasses before he could finally calm himself down. Ever since that day he had more than set on the idea of keeping his memory alive. And now he often found himself failing even at that. Even after growing out his hair. Even after working so hard to hang onto those positive memories, now as he started to work on being sober, as he started slowly splitting away from Kreese and away from the Valley, anything to try to focus on the positive memories of their friends. Of them. Before they became the monsters they were today. He was failing at that task. And he hated himself for it.

Once the painting had finally arrived, he had wasted no time in getting it into the African blackwood frame and up onto the wall for its final resting place. Terry’s eyes traced over the piece, the blue-green eyes that always seemed to have some sense of mischief behind them, the ponytail, perfectly created as if to spite all those who told Seth to chop it off, the uniform, at first glance being perfectly up to code but still hiding a few imperfections here and there…it was technically perfect.  It was precisely what he had wanted. And yet…it still didn’t feel right. He leaned against the wall across from the painting, lips tightening slightly. He supposed all those memories and paintings, they could never compare to the real thing.

Now that was an idea.

Perhaps, Terry had finally found a way to free himself from the guilt of forgetting. Perhaps, by doing his long-deceased friend a favor it would ease his mind. Maybe he would finally be able to sleep easily without that moment replaying in his head. Perhaps the painting would be enough to remember him once he knew his body at rest.

Terry, despite the painting not making things better, still found it hard to tear his eyes away, forcing himself to walk down the hall from the painting to go and grab the phone. It was time to make some calls. It was time to bring Ponytail home. 

[creepiecreator]

More backloggg

[creepiecreator]

The outsiders gang at Cracker Barrel??

Darry tried to keep the guys in line. He really did. But he could only do so much when they all decided to act up at once. And unfortunately for him, they all ended up doing exactly that when they had gone out to eat for once. It wasn’t often they went anywhere besides a cheap diner or Dairy Queen, but when they all put their funds together they were able to get the cash to go out to Cracker Barrel for once. And honestly? He absolutely regretted it. From the moment they sat down it was chaos. Twobit was cracking jokes and laughing way too loud, sure. That was to be expected. Soda was too fidgety and knocked over his chair and damn near busted his hand while doing it? A pain in his ass, and a little embarrassing but that's fine. The real problems came from Dallas, like normal. He loved the guy to hell and back, he was practically his brother. But the guy really needed to learn to shut his trap when it came to harassing the waitress. Making comments that could even make hoods blush. He knew. Thanks to those three alone that they’d be thrown out any minute. Course. Then Steve had to start on his bullshit too. Of course, he did. After all, when his kid brother started up, Steve always ended up following. Or vice versa. It was like a pattern at this point. Twobit cracks a joke-sometimes admittedly an actual funny one, he laughs. Dallas tries to make life harder for the waitress, Sodapop gets fidgety with the silverware and gets into a mock play fight with said silverware with Steve. At least Ponyboy and Johnny were mostly just talking with each other…until. Of course. They weren’t. Steve ended up bumping into Pony, which resulted in Pony throwing a sarcastic statement his way which started a fight and. Well. Darry was honest to god starting to get a migraine. Things continued on for a little while longer than he had thought it would. The waitress, while clearly annoyed, must have had the temperament of a saint to put up with them for as long as she did. And Soda, at the very least, had started to settle down. He was getting hopeful that maybe things would go in the right direction, and they would end up all settling down properly so they could eat until… Johnny had tried to blow his straw wrapper at Ponyboy. It wouldn’t have been a problem had he actually hit his target. But instead it had ended up targeting the long-suffering waitress. And that, of course. Had to be the final straw. Pun not intended, though he was fairly certain that Twobit would appreciate that thought. All seven members of the group were swiftly kicked out of the restaurant, Twobit still seeming incredibly amused at the whole situation, Johnny seeming mortified and Darry was just tired. He piled them all up into the car, only to shoo Sodapop away when he tried to get into the passenger seat in the truck. “Nu uh, Soda. You’re in the back. Johnny’s up front if anyone is.” he stated simply, giving the other the look that only an overly exhausted older brother could give. “What? But he’s the one who got us kicked out!” The complaint, fortunately, wasn’t from his brother. But from Twobit, who seemed to be more curious about his decision than anything. Or maybe he was just drunk and complaining to complain. Either way. He wasn’t going to entertain the idea. “Johnny was the least problematic person there. C’mon up, kiddo.” He called, gesturing for the tiniest greaser to hop up in the front seat with him. Darry most certainly didn’t miss the little mischievous smile that crossed his features when he glanced over to Ponyboy and the others, even if it was on his face only briefly as the other came up front. He thought they were all good to hit the road when Twobit, like always, thought it was a bright idea to open his mouth. “So, are we gonna go to the diner instead?”

[creepiecreator]

Outsiders Week Prompts

Sunday, Nov 3 - "gang" or "Ponyboy"

Monday, Nov 4 - "gold" or "Cherry"

Tuesday, Nov 5 - "rumble" or "Sodapop"

Wednesday, Nov 6 - "hair grease" or "Darry"

Thursday, Nov 7 - "rodeo" or "Bob"

Friday, Nov 8 - "tuff" or "Dally"

Saturday, Nov 9 - "vacant lot" or "Johnny"

[creepiecreator]

More backlog art stuff

This time for ride the cyclone

[creepiecreator]

I promise I am working on the request in my inbox, I've just been struggling like hell to write lately

[creepiecreator]

More old stuff

I wanna put all this stuff out before I post new stuff at this point I think

[creepiecreator]

This is AMAZING OH MY GOD

Outsiders Coraline Au

Part 1/7

So this is pretty much Coraline rating about the other! world after Wybie asks for the doll back expect it’s Ponyboy and Johnny. The conversation will be different, obviously. More to come!

[creepiecreator]

More old ass art, I promise I'm working on new stuff too

At this point I'm just working through the old

[creepiecreator]

Dog Day

Here you go @cobra-wives ! It took forever but I still got it done! I definitely gotta post this to my ao3 too if that is okay with you! ______________

John knew that Cobra Kai didn’t have the best reputation thanks to his teaching methods, and thanks to some of his students' behavior. The solution was clear, community service. It would help boost the community's view of his dojo, and it could help his students learn discipline. It seemed like a good idea. He didn’t think they’d have many options at first, but after looking into it more to see what they could do, he realized exactly how many charities around the valley needed volunteers. But only a few would provide what he needed. He needed something that could bring in plenty of positive attention, something that wasn’t controversial for once, and something that involved exercise for the kids.  The solution was clear: pet shelters. They were always looking for people to walk and care for the dogs, so they always needed people, and it involved at least some kinds of exercise. Dogs were always well-loved by practically everyone. It seemed perfect. He had ended up selecting one that seemed to be the most desperate for people. It was a little bit of a drive, but he knew the boys he taught could make it out there. Especially since Johnny often drove his friends around, which would make things easier. Really, in his opinion. It was perfect.

So he wasted no time in getting a slot scheduled for the group. Informing each of the boys that they would be heading out to get some out of the box training in by beginning to donate their time to the local humane society. The boys were, understandably, confused. But he wasn’t about to explain jack shit to these kids. They’d understand it once Cobra Kai started to be seen as better than it used to be, and they’d understand the work ethic that got put into them over this down the line.

The day arrived only a week later, John ended up leaning against his car while he waited for the Cobra’s to arrive, keeping a sharp eye on his watch. He had already decided that if they were late whatsoever that they would have to clean up the shelter’s yard after practice and do laps around the building. Luckily for them, however, the cars rolled into the parking lot two minutes before the set deadline. He glanced up once a familiar head of blonde hair popped out of the driver's seat. “You were cutting it close. Mr. Lawrence. Three minutes later and you and your friends would have been on cleaning duty.”

“Sorry Sensei!” Johnny called, genuinely a bit apologetic. “We would have been here sooner if it wasn’t for someone taking forever to get ready-” He glanced towards one of his friends. Bobby Brown. Who rolled his eyes and began to respond. “Hey! I would have been faster if-”

“It doesn’t matter whose fault it is.” John interrupted, giving the group of boys a stern look. “Inside, let’s go.” He started inside without another word, knowing the boys would follow behind him. After so many years of training underneath him in the ways of karate, they were well-trained. He never wanted to have to order them to do something twice, and they knew that well. It made plenty of moments easier than they would have been otherwise. Kreese checked in at the desk, making sure each of the Cobra’s did the same before they were led out to the yard by a member of the shelters staff, the dogs were waiting out in the yard for them, supervised originally by a wimpy looking guy who was wearing a volunteer badge. Once they arrived though, the scrawny little shrimp had left pretty quickly. Probably to go do something else around the shelter. That was good. If he had to deal with a guy like that while training his students, it would probably just add another stressor to his day. He looked like he would be the type to whine about everything. He hated people like that.

The metal door leading back into the shelter shut behind them after a moment, John turning on his heel to face his students. Most looked awkward. Lawrence seemed to be watching one of the labs, Dutch, one of the goofy pit bulls, and god help him, Tommy was completely lost in his own world. That is, they were doing that until John cleared his throat. “Well? The hell are you waiting for? We’re here to volunteer with the dogs. Get to work.” It wasn’t often that he gave such vague instructions. He liked things done a certain way, and that was always his own way. But now, unfortunately, wasn’t the time for such things. So long as some type of exercise was involved that wasn’t like that pansy-ass stuff like ‘Zumba’ or yoga and that shit, it was fine.

After a chorus of “Yes Sensei’s!” The group dispersed into the yard, each ending up with one or two dogs to attend to while John took over the supervisor role. Or at least. That was how it started. He had been just observing the group, walking around some while doing so to make sure they weren’t trying to laze around. Jimmy was playing with one of the smaller mutts, running around the sides of the yard with the dog chasing him, right on his heels looking like it was having the time of its life. Johnny had ended up with the lab he had been eyeing, getting it to jump to try to catch a Frisbee, which looked like…ah, yeah. One of the times he had thrown it, it had hit Bobby directly in the head. Kid had it coming if he wasn’t paying attention. His attention had been about to turn to the others when a white and brown pit bull had ended up wandering over to his side, sitting and simply just…staring at him, mere inches from his leg. So John stared back. Then, the four legged creature just.stuck its paw out and hit his leg.

Now that was odd.

John knelt down beside it, beginning to supply gentle scratches behind her ear.  “This what you want?” It was dumb to question a dog, he knew that they couldn’t respond. But he seemed to get an answer anyway, in her own way. Considering how she leaned into it so heavily she almost fell over. He almost chuckled at that, moving to go and check the temporary caller that hung around her neck. Mittsey, huh? Fitting, considering the little white paws. She held his attention for a lot longer than he had intended, as mere moments later he heard Brown’s voice nearby him. “Uh…sensei?”

“Yes, Mr. Lawrence?” He looked over to him, raising one brow as he observed Bobby, Johnny next to him and still leading the dog around using the Frisbee. “I was thinking- if we come back here again and this dog is still here-he’s pretty tough so-” Oh goddammit. John knew exactly where this conversation was going to go. And he had no doubt that Brown had been the mastermind behind this. Or at least he hoped he was. There was a reason why Lawrence was his top student, and Brown was simply just second best. “No. We are not getting a dog for the dojo.” He started immediately, cutting him off. It was best to not let that stupidity go on for long. “I was just-”

“I said no. Mr. Brown. Do I make myself clear?” If he had to say it one more time - luckily the boy at least had the brains to back off at that. He nodded his head. “Yes Sensei!” He was upset, but getting a dog for the dojo was just a plain stupid idea, and John wasn’t about to entertain such ideas. He had turned his attention back to the dog, only to hear the unmistakable voice of Johnny Lawrence. “Sensei…?”

“Now what. This better not be about the damn dojo dog thing again.” He warned, annoyance clearly displayed in his tone as he looked to his top student once more. At least Bobby had actually gone back to working out with the dog he had been working with earlier. That was one less child to deal with. “No, Sensei. It’s just. You’re holding that dog pretty hard, sir.”

Kreese glanced down to the pit bull, she seemed perfectly fine, tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth with the dumbest expression written all over her face. Then he looked back at Johnny. “Her name is Mittsey, Mr. Lawrence. And she’s a damn fighter,” That much he had decided on already. She was a tough dog. Even if she looked about as smart as a chicken without a head was. He had a damn good feeling that she was smarter than she let on. “20 laps around the yard with that lab of yours. Now.” He supposed the look on his face was more than enough to get Johnny to stop questioning him, glaring at the eighteen-year-old until he had started his laps before he went back to giving Mittsey some much deserved attention.

By the end of that day, all the boys were completely tired out thanks to each of the dogs seemingly having boundless energy, Kreese dismissed them when the sun started to show signs of setting soon. It was safe to say that this shelter would have a group of consistent volunteers now. John waited for that red Avanti with five of his students to leave the parking lot before he went back to his own truck to start his way back home. But for once, this was a drive he wouldn’t make alone. The white and brown pit bull shoving her head out the window to enjoy her first tastes of freedom as the two of them headed to their now shared home.

[creepiecreator]

My heart has to go out to Chad Mcqueen and his family during these horrible times. Loosing a loved one is the worst feeling in this world

I hope, wherever he is, he knows what an impact he had on the Karate Kid movie and how integral he was to the OG Cobras