#also using this to try out an art signature for the first time…it’s took just over 3 years but

[seagull-scribbles]

ʟᴇᴛ'ꜱ ɢᴏ ᴘᴀɪɴᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴡɴ ᴏɴ ᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴀʏ ʜᴏᴍᴇ,

ᴛʜᴇ ʙʟɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ʟɪɢʜᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴᴇꜱ

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Summary: Conflict arises with Harris's new teacher, filling Halloween with more tricks than treats. But it's nothing a visit with Ms. Sweetheart can't fix.

Warnings: allusion to Reader and Eddie's one-night stand, panic attack, Reader's grandma has dementia.

WC: 5.6k

Chapter 6/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

Guns N’ Roses t-shirt: check. Goodwill jeans with makeshift holes in the knees: check. Bandana tied snugly around his forehead: check. Arms littered with an assortment of temporary tattoos: check.

Eddie grins as he assesses his son’s costume, reaching into the thrift store bag as he pulls out the pièce de résistance: a denim jacket, only two sizes bigger than Harris would usually wear. It was a bit over what he’d been hoping to spend, but he’d reasoned with himself that it could also be worn after Halloween. It was an investment, he’d decided, not a splurge.

His smile falters when Harris indignantly stomps his foot, crossing his arms over his chest. While Eddie had hoped his son would go with more badass tattoo options, perhaps a skull and crossbones or even a snake, he had insisted on a Sesame Street theme. Cookie Monster munches on his signature treat as Harris pouts.

“No, Daddy!” he whines, twisting away when Eddie holds the jacket closer to him. “I can’t wear that!”

“C’mon, Har,” he tries, scouring his brain to come up with a convincing enough lie. “Axl Rose wore jackets all the time!”

Harris doesn’t just shake his head; he swivels his entire body back and forth in protest. “I don’t care! No one’s gonna be able to see my tattoos!” He holds out both arms in front of him; nearly every square inch (besides the section blocked by his cast) is covered. Eddie had spent most of last night diligently applying them precisely where Harris had asked, lest there be a tantrum. There was, unfortunately, a headless Elmo from when Harris had asked–no, demanded–that he try by himself. Still, Eddie figured that only one casualty was a win.

“Those are some sweet ol’ tatties,” Eddie muses, biting back a laugh at the two-dimensional Big Bird on his son’s forearm. “But wouldn’t it be cool if you wore the jacket into school and then–BAM!--took it off and surprised everyone with them?

Harris appears to consider this, mouth tucked into his cheeks. “Can I show Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Sure, bud. We’ll stop by her classroom when I pick you up.” Whatever gets us out of the house in weather-appropriate attire. “But first, show me your most metal pose.”

The boy opens his mouth wide and sticks out his tongue as far as it extends, scrunching his face dramatically until the corners of his eyes crinkle. His middle and ring fingers press into his palm, thumb crossing over them, with his forefinger and pinky raised in the quintessential rock ‘n roll symbol. 

Eddie swoops down and smacks a wet kiss to Harris’s cheek. “That’s my boy!”

Standing among the crowd of parents at pick-up, Eddie opts out of making banal small talk and instead chooses to look at the bulletin board. The previous art project that had been hanging against the faded blue paper–”self-portraits” that the students had made on the first day of school–have been replaced by finger paintings of orange blobs that vaguely resemble pumpkins. There wasn’t one for Harris because he was in Ms. Sweetheart’s classroom then, so it’s his first art project in his new class. He eagerly scans the board for Harris’s, frowning when he can’t find his name. 

Maybe it’s still drying, he tries to convince himself, imagining his son over-saturating the paper with globs of paint. It wouldn’t be entirely out of character.

Ms. Marion’s classroom is a sea of costumed children. A boy dressed as one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles stands by his mom. A Cinderella, a black cat, and a Thomas the Tank Engine surround Ms. Paula. As soon as Eddie spots Harris, he smiles and waves him over, hurriedly scribbling his signature on the sign-out sheet.

He expects Harris to zoom past the other kids, fueled by the standard Halloween diet of sugar and chocolate, but he just kind of…mopes to the doorway. His shoulders slump dejectedly, and though he keeps his gaze low, Eddie can still see the film of mist staining his innocent eyes.

“Har, what’s wrong?” He waits for an answer, and when he doesn’t receive one–an oddity for his perpetually chatty son–he tries a new tactic. “Wanna show me where your artwork is? I must be gettin’ old, because I couldn’t find it on the board out there.”

“‘S not there,” Harris mumbles, scratching off a flaking piece of the Rosita tattoo on the back of his hand. “I didn’t get to finish.”

Eddie watches as the tears start to slip down his cheeks, and he brings him into the hallway before Ms. Marion or Ms. Paula sees what’s going on. He can’t be certain, but his paternal instincts tell him that they’ve contributed to Harris’s sad state. “Why not?”

“I-I t-tried, but M-Ms. Mar-Marion and Ms. P-Paula got m-mad at me.” The words come out between choked sobs. “‘C-Cuz I c-couldn’t sit d-down.”

“What do you mean?”

“I k-keeped st-standing up, ‘cuz m-my legs wanted to st-stand.” The explanation tumbles out of him so quickly, as though he’s trying to beat the clock. “And they s-said if I did-didn’t sit down, I c-couldn’t do art. But I k-keeped f-f-forgetting, and th-they t-taked away my pay-pay-paper and said, ‘sit in the c-corner!’”

Eddie’s breath hitches, and he has to clear his throat before speaking again. “Did…did that happen in Ms. Sweetheart’s class? The legs thing?” 

“Mhm,” Harris manages, “b-but she let me stand and d-do ju-jumps to get the wig-wiggles out. She just t-t-telled me not to do ju-jumps with s-s-scissors, ‘cuz of s-safety.” His breathing increases to a rapid pace, face flushing red as his chest heaves. “B-But Ms. M-Marion ye-ye-yelled at me!”

Eddie’s brows pinch together, and he gently presses his calloused palms against Harris’s narrow shoulders, desperate to prevent him from hyperventilating. “Harris, you gotta calm down. I can’t understand you when you’re crying like this!” Despite his efforts, his frustration bleeds into his tone, and he winces when the latter sentence ends with an unwanted snap. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s just an art project.” 

“Harris?”

The sound of your voice draws the attention of both Munsons. You let out a small oof as Harris flings himself against your legs, and though he practically flew the five foot distance between his father and you, now is not the time to remind him about using his walking feet.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” You crouch down, taking his hand in yours, and notice his quick, shallow breaths. “We’re gonna breathe together, okay? Eyes on me.” You demonstrate inhaling for three seconds, holding for three seconds, and exhaling for three seconds. “Now let’s do it together.” 

He hesitates but ultimately follows your lead, and you guide him until his breathing slows enough for him to sputter, “I t-tried to sit, b-but I c-couldn’t.”

You haven’t the slightest idea what he’s referring to, but Eddie fills you in. You feel the heat of anger creeping through your body, not just for the way your co-worker treated the sweet boy, but for her insolent approach to teaching as a whole.

“We can go to my classroom,” you offer, silently sighing in relief when the boy nods in agreement. “I don’t know if I have the supplies to make the same project as Ms. Marion, but if you have a few minutes, you can draw something now. I bet Mr. Will would love to help you; he’s a super-duper artist.”

Just as you’d predicted, Will jumps at the opportunity to help Harris with his impromptu art project, encouraging him to draw something that makes him happy. While he does that, you comb through the mess left behind from the Halloween party you’d thrown. You’d sooner toss one hundred cupcake wrappers in the trash before attempting a conversation with Eddie Munson. He’s simply too unpredictable; kind and thoughtful one day, harsh and guarded the next.

One of the wrappers in your hand drops to the floor and you reach forward to pick it up, pinching the pleated material between your pointer and middle fingers. You can feel Eddie’s eyes on your form, the way the backs of your thighs are slightly exposed when you bend over, and you stand up quickly. 

“Are you the Magic School Bus lady?” He takes in your lavender dress with planets and stars stamped all over it. Oh. He wasn’t checking you out; he was just trying to figure out who you’d dressed up as. Good. Anything else would be inappropriate.

So why does a twinge of disappointment radiate through you?

You glance at your costume; with all of the commotion, you’d forgotten you’d even been wearing one “I mean, would I even be a teacher if I didn’t jump at the chance to be Ms. Frizzle?” You motion over to Will, decked out in green from head to toe with two yellow horns glued to a headband atop his mop of brown hair. “Have you met my trusty sidekick, Liz the Lizard?”

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, Byers actually used to play in my D&D club back in high school. Made some pretty sick art pieces to liven up that dingy excuse for a room.”

You look between the two of them, trying to do the mental math. “Will, didn’t you say you’re twenty-four?” And if Eddie is thirty, that means…

“I, uh, had a little trouble graduating,” Eddie sheepishly admits, ruffling the back of his hair and offering a tight grimace. “But I got there eventually. Class of ‘86, baby!” 

“Worked out for me,” Will shrugs with a grin, looking up from Harris’s drawing. “You were the best DM Hellfire ever had. Although, rumor has it that Erica Sinclair gave you a run for your money.”

Harris picks up a yellow marker, furiously scribbling a circle in the left-hand corner of his paper. You try peering over to see the whole drawing, but he presses his whole body against the table, successfully thwarting your plans. “No peeking!” he warns, not putting his feet back on the ground until you’ve averted your gaze. “‘S a surprise.”

You put your hands up in surrender. “All right, all right. I’ll be surprised.” You raise your eyebrows at Eddie, who shares a similar response in return.

“Dunno when he got so bossy,” he snorts before calling out to his son, “Har-Bear? Five more minutes. We gotta get home to trick-or-treat with Grampa Wayne.”

“Ooh, that sounds like fun!” you echo as Harris grabs a purple marker from the box. “What’s your favorite candy?”

“Hmm.” Harris uses his free hand–the one with the cast–to tap his chin, continuing to color with the other one. “M&Ms. But only the plain ones. Daddy doesn’t let me have the peanut ones ‘cause he says I could choke.”

You shoot a sly, knowing look at Eddie. “I’m sure that’s the only reason. Such a selfless father.” You cross your arms over your chest and cock your head innocently. “And what do you do with all of these confiscated peanut M&Ms, Mr. Munson? Donate them?” 

Eddie tucks his lips into his mouth to mask his grin. “Listen, the jig is gonna be up at some point,” he mumbles out of the corner of his mouth, loud enough so you can hear but soft enough that Harris can’t. “Let me enjoy my free candy while it lasts.”

“No judgment here,” you say with a small laugh, “they’re one of my favorites, too.”

“TA-DA!” Harris shouts, startling you, Eddie, and Will. He holds up the construction paper and smiles widely. To anyone without kids–or who didn’t teach preschool for a living–it would look like a bunch of colorful scribbles. But you can tell that he’s drawn a group of people standing by a tree (or a really, really tall flower) underneath the sun.

“Wow, Harris! That’s amazing!” you clap your hands together to punctuate your enthusiasm. “Who are all those people?”

Harris’s pointer finger travels left to right across the paper as he names each person: “That’s me, Grampa Wayne, Daddy, you, and Mr. Will!” The stick figure that represents you has a purple scribble on it, which you realize must be the costume you’re wearing. “An’ we’re all smiling because we’re happy!” Sure enough, each person has a curved red line at the bottom of their face. But there’s something else that catches your eye.

All of the people have a small space between them, except for you and Eddie. The circle that Harris drew to represent your left hand overlaps with the circle that is Eddie’s right. 

You glance at the real Eddie, and if he notices, he doesn’t give any indication. “I love it, buddy.” He takes the drawing and inspects it closely. “Yup, this one’s definitely going on the fridge when we get home.” He flicks the paper for good measure. “Go clean up the markers so we can head out, Axl Rose.”

Among the noise of markers clattering back in the bins, you lean in to Eddie, inadvertently inhaling the scent of his cigarettes and cologne. For a brief moment, you’re transported back to the night fate had led you to cross paths; the thought of his lips on your neck in the stairwell has you clenching your thighs and swallowing thickly as you murmur, “I can ask him to make a new one with just you, him, and his grandpa.”

Eddie shakes his head. “N-No. I like this one.” He lets one hand drop to his side and it grazes yours. His rings brush your knuckles, and you instinctively draw back at the sensation of the cool metal and the zing of heat that pulses at his light touch. “Sorry,” he mumbles, not making eye contact.

“S’okay.”

He blinks a few times and redirects his attention to his son. “What do you say to Mr. Will and Ms. Sweetheart for letting you do your art project?”

Harris’s little chest swells as he inhales deeply, storing up as much oxygen as he can fit in his lungs before bellowing, “THANK YOUUUUUUU!”

Eddie brings his palm to his ear canal, rotating his forefinger as though trying to repair a punctured eardrum. “Love the enthusiasm,” he says through gritted teeth. “Seriously, though. Thank you both so much.”

“Of course,” Will says warmly, picking up the marker bin and placing it in its space on the shelf.

“Anything for Harris.” You smile, motioning towards the little boy already by his father’s side. “Have fun trick-or-treating tonight, bud! I can’t wait to hear about all the yummy candy you got.”

Harris scrunches his nose in contemplation. “Are you going trick-or-treating, Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Nah,” you laugh, “I’m gonna stay home and give candy to all the kids who come by.” And pray that Grandma doesn’t curse them out, you silently add.

“Oh.” Harris pauses, grabbing his dad’s hand. “Okay, bye!”

Eddie chuckles as his son pulls him towards the door. “That’s my cue. Um, Happy Halloween,” he adds awkwardly, waving once before disappearing down the hallway.

There’s so much more that he wants to say: you’re the best; you saved the day; you should be my son’s teacher instead of that old, bitchy bat. But he didn’t have time. Maybe another day. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

Wayne arrives just a few minutes after Eddie and Harris get home. As soon as his gruff voice comes over the intercom, Harris excitedly buzzes him in. “Grampa Wayne’s here!” he yells, even though Eddie’s standing right next to him. He grabs the pillowcase from the couch; it was originally white, but after Eddie accidentally threw in a red sock with the white laundry, it’s tinted light pink.

No sooner does the older man cross the threshold into the apartment, Harris is trying to drag him out again. “Let’s go, before all the good candy is gone!” he whines. His eyebrows pinch together and he drops his grandfather’s hand. “Oh, wait, I gotta show you something.” He scampers off into the kitchen, and Wayne winces when he hears the rattle of magnets falling to the floor.

“I’m okay!” Harris calls out, running back with a piece of paper in his hand. “Look what I drawed at school today!” He gives Wayne the rundown of who’s who.

Wayne analyzes each person in the picture, stopping at the overlapping circles between you and Eddie. “This is great, Har-Bear,” he muses. “Are, um, are Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart holding hands?”

“Mhm,” Harris casually confirms, taking the drawing back. “‘Cause they’re married.”

Eddie chokes on air as Wayne does a double-take. “Congrats, Ed,” he jokes, clapping a hand to his nephew’s shoulder. “Gotta say, I thought I’d at least get an invite.”

“Shut up,” Eddie grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Harris, why do you think that Ms. Sweetheart and I are married?” He wracks his brain for answers, but he can’t come to a logical conclusion. Did I talk about her in my sleep? Oh, shit, what if it was when I had that dream—

“Because you gived her a present,” Harris says, eyes innocent and wide. “And when grown-ups love each other, they give each other presents.”

“Oh, he gave Ms. Sweetheart a present, huh?” On the surface, Wayne’s words are as innocuous as Harris’s, but Eddie hears the teasing buried just beneath. 

Harris nods. “Mhm. He gived her a tape!”

“It was the Toni Braxton one that she came into the shop for…that day that, uh…” Eddie raises his eyebrows at his uncle, who nods in acknowledgment. He brings his focus back to his son. “It doesn’t mean that we’re married. People have to go on dates and fall in love before they get married.”

The young boy absorbs this information. “So you should go on dates and fall in love with Ms. Sweetheart!” His face lights up at the idea of it, and it breaks Eddie’s heart to let him down. 

So, he doesn’t. 

“Why don’t you hang that back up so we can get outta here and get you some candy, huh?” He forces a smile and watches his son scamper into the kitchen before turning back to Wayne and shaking his head. 

Harris peels a magnet off of the fridge, the one Eddie bought him on their Daddy-Son day. It has a sea lion balancing a beach ball on its snout, with HAWKINS ZOO printed in bolded letters along the bottom.  

Lowering his voice to a whisper, he speaks directly to his drawing. “When Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart fall in love and get married, I’ll finally have a mommy.” He presses his hand flat against the paper as though he’s sealing in the wish. He stays like that for a moment until his dad calls his name, and he clutches his pillow case as they head out the door. 

Eddie assumes that the love and marriage talk is done for the evening, but the feeling of relief doesn’t last long. The trio of Munson men is halfway down the stairwell when Wayne starts instigating. “Hey, Har, is Ms. Sweetheart pretty?”

“WAYNE!” Eddie grits his teeth and shoots a sharp look at his uncle. The last thing he needs is for Harris to get his hopes up about a blossoming romance between his dad and his former teacher. 

“Oh, yeah!” Harris gleefully agrees, oblivious to the mounting tension. He grips the railing and jumps from the second to last step onto the tiled landing below. “Super pretty! Like a princess.”

The eldest Munson turns to Eddie. “Didja hear that? Pretty like a princess.”

“I heard him,” Eddie replies tersely. 

“Daddy?”

No. Don’t ask me. Harris Wayne Munson, do not ask me what I think you’re going to—

“Do you think Ms. Sweetheart is pretty?”

Although he anticipated the question, Eddie still freezes. If he disagrees, Harris will inevitably want to know why not. And if he’s being honest with himself, he can’t name a single ugly thing about you. 

He does think you’re pretty. He thinks you’re beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. And even though he’s literally seen you naked, fully on display for him–a memory he revisits more often than he’s willing to admit–it’s the thought of what you did today that solidifies your beauty. The way you’d effortlessly calmed Harris down without Eddie even having to ask. The frown on his face almost instantly became a smile, the flow of his tears ceasing and turning into the giggles that brought sunlight into Eddie’s life. You did that.

Any woman can be sexy, but you? In that moment, you were perfect.

Fuck. 

“Daddy? Hello?”

At the sound of Harris’s voice, Eddie realizes that he physically hasn’t moved from his spot on the stairs. His hand is gripping the banister so tightly that it leaves an imprint in his palm. “Yeah, buddy,” he manages through his Sahara Desert throat. “I think Ms. Sweetheart’s pretty.”

“Like a princess?” Wayne’s eyes twinkle mischievously. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to tease his nephew about a crush, and he’s not passing up this limited opportunity. 

“Yeah. Like a princess.”

Education outsiders might think that Halloween is one of the worst days to be a teacher. The lethal combination of sugar and excitement barely contained in tiny costumed bodies seems like a recipe for disaster. But any teacher worth their salt will tell you that there is a day far, far worse than Halloween: November 1st. 

On Halloween, there is the expectation for fun. There’s a costume parade, classroom trick-or-treating, and even a little party. The kids are out of control, but who cares? It’s Halloween. 

But on November 1st, there is work to be done. And you’re expected to teach the months of the year to 10 four-year-olds who are suffering from candy hangovers and won’t stop asking why they can’t go trick-or-treating again today. 

You and Will are preparing for battle as students trickle in, excited to show off the candy stashes they acquired the night before. Abby Carver cries because she ate her Reese’s cup and now she’s sad that it’s gone. Joshua Harrington is continuing to “sling webs” at the other kids despite your incessant reminders that he is no longer Spider-Man. A fight over a KitKat bar breaks out not even five minutes into the day, and you confiscate it before someone causes serious bodily harm. 

Two fingers lightly tap on your shoulder—too high up to be a kid—and you whirl around with an irritated, “what?”

“Whoa,” Eddie says, concern etched into his otherwise soft features. He takes a small step back, nearly tripping over a rogue Lego that somehow made its way out of the toy area. He stumbles but catches his balance easily. “Everything okay?”

“‘S a warzone out here,” you try and joke, but you feel it fall flat. You’re too tired for humor. Grandma may not have yelled at the trick-or-treaters like you’d feared, but she did get increasingly angrier with each knock on the door. After the fifth time of her snarling at you to “shut the hell up” (like you could simultaneously be on both sides of the door), you’d relented and just put the candy bowl on the welcome mat, scribbling “TAKE ONE” on a yellow sticky note, adhering it to the plastic container. 

Two decades earlier, Halloween at Grandma’s house had a completely different connotation. She’d have a little pizza party all set up for you, and she’d buy a big bag of your favorite candy, in case you didn’t get enough during your door-to-door quests. And she’d always let you watch whatever spooky movie your heart desired, regardless of your parents’ rules. 

“That’s what grandmas are for,” she’d said with a wink, and the two of you curled up to watch Little Shop of Horrors. Her demeanor matched the hokey magnet on her fridge that read, If I knew how fun my grandkids would be, I would’ve had them first. You’d stay like that until you both fell asleep, only being roused by your parents arriving to pick you up. The good old days, before Grandma waking up involved watching the confusion in her eyes as she tried and failed to place you.

“C-Can I help you with something?” Your guard goes up immediately when you notice that Harris isn’t with him. The time you’d spent together after school yesterday had been nice, fun, even, but you couldn’t trust that today would be the same. Not after what happened a few short weeks ago. 

“I, um…I just swung by to give you this.” He reaches into the inner pocket of his denim jacket; it’s the same one that he lent to Harris when he’d forgotten his at home. A flash of yellow paper catches your eye, and he unfurls his palm to reveal a small bag of peanut M&Ms. “You said they were one of your favorites, right?”

You look at the treat, not willing to reach out and grab it. What if it’s a joke? An elaborate ploy to reel you in, just to shout “gotcha” when you finally let your walls come down?

“Are they poisoned or something?” you quip, crossing your arms over your chest. “Did you spike them with Ex-Lax?”

Eddie’s lips part in surprise before he collects himself. “Guess I deserve that,” he mumbles. “But, no. They’re not. I swear on James Hetfield’s life.” He drags his fingernail over his heart in an X-formation. 

You take the bag, inspecting it for any sign of tampering, but you come up short. The edges are sealed, and there are no pinpricks as far as your eyes can see. “Dipped into Harris’s stash for me?”

“Hey, these bad boys are technically mine for the taking until he figures out that he can eat them without dying.” Eddie chuckles lightly, peering at you through impossibly long lashes. “But, yeah, I was hoping you’d accept these as part of my apology. Or apologies, I guess. For, uh, for not calling when I said I would, and all of the awful shi—awful things I said to you.” His voice is barely above a whisper as he steps closer and says, “I am so fucking sorry.”

You make a small tear in the bag, tapping it against your palm until an M&M falls out. Popping the blue candy in your mouth, you allow the shell to start dissolving on your tongue before crunching on the peanut, hoping you can process what he’s said by the time you’re finished chewing. 

This is what you’ve been waiting for—an actual heartfelt apology. His brown eyes reflect nothing but shame and remorse, and you can tell by the way that he’s fidgeting with his rings that he’s anxiously awaiting your reply. 

His vulnerability softens you slightly, and considering you haven’t keeled over after ingesting the candy, you throw him a bone. 

“This fun size bag covers the ‘not calling’ part, but I’m gonna need a lot more candy if you want me to forgive you for what you said at the music store.” You keep your tone light; teasing, even, but there’s a layer of truth to it. He can’t merely waltz into your classroom with a gift and expect you to forget his hurtful words. 

Eddie nods, his frizzy curls brushing the tops of his denim-clas shoulders. “I know. I’ve said some pretty terrible things in my life, but that might’ve been the worst. And, um,” he fumbles his words, desperately searching for the right ones. Semantics has never been his forte. “You didn’t deserve that. It’s not true; your grandma didn’t want to forget you. And…neither do I.” When you raise your eyebrows, he starts to backtrack. “Because you’re so great with Harris; like, you understand him and stuff. He’s always talking about you.”

Daddy, do you think Ms. Sweetheart is pretty? The question replays like a song he can’t shake from his head, its melody familiar but the notes still keeping him on edge. Pretty like a princess, only instead of saving her, I’m the one who needs to be rescued. So much for Prince Charming, huh?

The M&M melts in your mouth while you formulate a response to his candid admission. Sweetness seeps into your taste buds as you try to straddle the line between careful consideration and overthinking. Speak too quickly and you might say something you’ll regret. Take too long and you’ll make this even more awkward.

“W-Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Short, simple, to the point. Your words are slightly slurred by the candy obstruction, but what else is there to say? You could add that you forgive him, but you’re truthfully not sure that you do. His words scarred, had taken your already mangled self-worth and snapped it into pieces, and so did his reasoning for hurting you. Despite the love and kindness you’d shown his son, Eddie had fully believed that you were responsible for spreading personal information that would wound him. It was exactly as Jeff had said: Eddie struck below the belt at the first sign of conflict, so determined to protect himself that he didn’t even realize that he was attacking the people on his side.

The sound of books clattering to the floor snatches your attention from him, and you whip your head to your little classroom library to see two kids standing over a pile of fallen books, guilty looks stamped on their faces. “I’ve gotta go,” you blurt out, dashing off to assess the damage. You’ve never been so grateful for your students causing mischief.

The hour hand crawls to the number two; at one point, you swore the clock was moving backwards. The chaos of the morning was only a preview of the rest of the day’s fiascos, but you and Will had navigated as best as you could.

“Jesus,” he murmurs once the kids have all been dismissed, gingerly rubbing his temples, “that was brutal. I can handle the day after Halloween; I can handle Fridays, but when they coincide? Nope, never again.” He slumps into a chair dramatically, letting his arms drape over the sides.

“Gonna have a glass of wine when you get home?” you joke, wiping Play-Doh residue from a tabletop.

Will nods. “Or a whole bottle.” His focus shifts to your desk, and he nods his chin in that direction. “I see you have something to look forward to tonight, too.”

You follow his gaze, widening your eyes when you see the object he’s referring to. A bag of peanut M&Ms–much bigger than the one you’d inhaled this morning–sits on top of your desk calendar; resting next to it is a cassette. You walk over, curiosity getting the better of you. The cassette is Guns N’ Roses’ Appetite for Destruction; you recognize the iconic cover as soon as it comes into view. It’s not your usual music choice, but you’ll listen to almost anything.

There’s a piece of paper taped to the giant yellow M&M bag, folded in equal triads. Messily scrawled across the front in black ink is Ms. Sweetheart. You gently pull the adhesive loose and open the letter, nervously running your forefinger across the irregular edge where it was obviously torn from a composition notebook.

Fun size mistake=fun size bag of candy

Family size mistake=family size bag of candy

I’m really good at fucking things up, but really bad at fixing them. I wish I could say that I didn’t mean to hurt you, but we both know that I did. 

You don’t have to forgive me, but I need you to know how sorry I am. 

-Eddie

P.S. Not sure if hard rock is your thing, but I saw this at work and it reminded me of the kindness you showed our favorite little Axl Rose yesterday.

“Who’s it from?” Will asks, breaking into your thoughts. “A secret admirer?” He brings his clasped hands to his cheek in mock dreaminess.

You manage a laugh as you fold the note back up and tuck it under the calendar. “If it is, he’s really bad at it, because he signed his name.” When did he even sneak in here to do this? Kind of scary that someone could walk in and you didn’t even notice.

“Aha! So it is a guy!” Will pumps his fist triumphantly, though you’re not quite sure what he thinks he’s won.

“Just Eddie Munson, thanking us for letting Harris draw here yesterday.” 

It’s not a total lie, but Will sees right through it. “Uh-huh. Thanking us? So that note is also for me? Can I read it?” He starts towards your desk, outstretched hand reaching towards where you’d tried to hide it, but you playfully swat them away.

You glance at the clock and frown. “If you leave a little early, I won’t tell anyone.”

Will flips you off; over the last two months, you two had developed a sibling-esque relationship that came out more once the kids had left for the day. He grabs his backpack from the supply closet and slings it over his shoulders. “You’re lucky I’m exhausted, or I’d stick around and keep bothering you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes, knowing full well that he’s itching to leave regardless. “Gotta save up your energy for when Marshall visits.”

Will blushes at the mention of his long-distance boyfriend’s name. He still wasn’t out to many people, but when you’d casually mentioned the date Jess had with a girl named Robin, he’d felt comfortable opening up to you. “I can’t wait!” His grin is so wide you swear it’ll stretch right off of his face. “Thanks again; you’re the best.”

That leaves you alone with your gigantic bag of candy, a Guns N’ Roses cassette, and an apology that you have no idea what to do with.

Once again, Eddie Munson has given you more questions than answers.

--

taglist:

@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

@breezybeesposts @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @krahk @81rain @dylanmunson @oscarisaacwhore @eddiesguitarskills @everheart12 @etherealglimmer @hollster88 @wh0re4life @siriuslysmoking

@bibieddiesgf @theactualf0ck @winchester-angel @starlitlakes @avalon-wolf @hazydespair @josephquinncore @daydreaminglisa @sidthedollface2 @eddiebaemunson @mandyjo8719 @daydreaming-mood @aol19 @corkadymu @starcourtnights @eggo-segual @rockstarmunsons @metalhead-succubus @boinkybarness @oohworldofpisces @costellation-hunter @toobsessedsstuff @meadow20 @theweasleyskettle @lost-in-the-stars03 @elizabethmidnight2017 @aysheashea

@chamomileh0ney @dream-a-little-nightmare @emma77645 @kurdtbean @sheneedsrocknroll92 @tlclick73 @luceneraium @lolly-in-a-strange-land @dylanmunson @bakugouswh0r3

@strangerthingsstories5255 @imaginexred @haylaansmi @adaydreamaway08 @itsalltaken @harmfulb1tch @mimischaos @averagemisfit03 @steddiegarbage @vigilanteshit @ellendemeyer152 @sierrahhh @stevesmunson @hiscrimsonangel @ffrvtvt @mrsjellymunson @idkatee @quentinswife

[duchi-nesten]

DannyMay Day 26: Art/Fic Switch!

Treats and Threats

Summary:

Valerie was going to kick Phantom’s ass for this! The only problem? She didn’t know where to find him.

Good thing Cujo was more than willing to help in exchange for some treats. Too bad he wasn’t very good at distinguishing which Danny he was meant to find though...

Word Count: 2894 || AO3 Link

Did I use this day as an excuse to try writing something for the shared cujostody au?? Maybe...

it referances this comic a little bit...

[Shared Cujostody AU Masterpost]

---

Valerie was gonna kick Phantom’s ass for this. Did he think she wouldn’t notice?

She looked over to Cujo, who was sniffing all over her room. He just came over as he often did. Phantom liked to think they had a set custody schedule or whatever it was he called it, but in reality Cujo just came by whenever he wanted and to whichever of them he wanted.

She was reluctant to ‘’adopt’’ the ghost dog at first. Yes, she wasn’t as mad at him anymore after she finally listened to Phantom and found out why exactly Cujo was now a ghost, but that didn’t mean she had to like him. He was incredibly persistent though and the more time Valerie spent around the dog, the more she started loving him. He was just a tiny little puppy, a ball of joy who wanted to play all the time.

She even kept some treats for him for whenever he came over and started making and buying him some dog clothes. He loved dressing up, especially when they got to match. And it made Phantom jealous, so it was just bonus points for her really.

Phantom used to insist that the dog wasn’t his, but now it seemed like they were fighting for who gets to have him. Okay, she was fighting. That idiot seemed delighted to share the ‘’custody’’, he kept making jokes about them being a family which was genuinely getting on her nerves. He was so infuriating.

She did agree to a truce with him after finding out he was right about Vlad, but that didn’t mean she had to enjoy sharing Cujo with that menace. He was too careless and brute with the puppy. Which is exactly why she needed to find him right now and kill him, truce be damned.

Unfortunately for her the ghost attacks have been kinda on the down low lately and she had no idea where he hung out when he wasn’t fighting them. She did send him a bunch of text messages and even tried calling (which was still so weird! How did he even get that phone??), but she was sent to voicemail every time.

If only there was a way for her to track him down…

She glanced at Cujo, who had his head stuck in the plastic box of treats. She sighed. Truly nothing could stop a ghost dog. She always tried hiding these from him, but no matter where she put the box he always managed to sniff it out.

Which gave her an idea. If he could sniff these out then maybe…

‘’Cujo, baby. You know you’re not supposed to eat those.’’ she gently pushed his head out of the box. If he really wanted to he could just phase through her hand and continue, but he was a good boy and always listened. Yet he kept his eyes on the treats as if they would disappear at any moment. She chuckled.

‘’I’ll give you a treat if you do something for me.’’ she said and his eyes instantly snapped to her. His tail slowly swayed back and forth. ‘’Can you find Phantom for me? Sniff him out?’’

Cujo blinked at her before barking happily, tail full on wagging now. He phased through her hand and made his way through the bedroom window. She quickly jumped to follow him, nearly yanking the window off its hinges. Her suit making a humming sound as it activated.

He got quite ahead of her, but she managed to keep up just fine. She did have his ecto-signature marked in her tracker just in case she ever lost track of him, but she also had Phantom’s and that one tended to disappear off her radar at random. She wasn’t so inclined to test if Cujo’s wouldn’t do the same.

They flew their way through Amity Park before Cujo suddenly took a sharp turn towards her high school. She saw him growing into his bigger form before he disappeared behind the building.

As she rounded the corner and saw Cujo’s back, tail wagging. It seemed like he was holding someone in his mouth.

Got ya, ghost boy.

She landed behind the dog and could hear his captive yelling

‘’Cujo! I can’t right now! I told you to go to-’’

Cujo turned around to show his catch to Valerie and…

‘’Oh-... Heheh.. hi Red! Uh.. Huntress!’’

That was not Danny Phantom.

That was Danny Fenton.

‘’CUJO NO. Shit, I’m so sorry Da-uh citizen!’’ She quickly raced up to them and coaxed her puppy into releasing her ex boyfriend. Which he did by letting him fall face first on the ground. ‘’SHIT.’’

Valerie knelt down next to him to help him rise to his feet.

‘’Are you okay??’’

‘’Yeah.’’ he said, standing up to his full height, which was only slightly taller than her. He looked at her and sent her a bright smile. ‘’Don’t worry about it.’’

She smiled back knowing that he probably struggled to see it through her visor. His view got even more obscured when Cujo put his huge snout in between them wagging his tail happily. Which ended up with him accidentally knocking over some full trash cans standing behind him.

‘’Ugh. Cujo, I just cleaned that up.’’ Danny said resigned, moving over to the garbage. ‘’Lancer’s gonna have my head if he sees another piece of mutated meat.’’

Valerie looked at the knocked over trash and sure enough it was full of disgusting glowing green meat. Or at least what was left of it. It looked maimed and burned.

Right. He was recording a tiktok during lunch today. She was eating in the library while working on her missed homework, so she didn’t get to see it herself, but she heard the rumors. Apparently he put some sort of new ectoplasmic concoction from his parents lab in his serving of today’s mystery meat. It backfired and spread to every piece of meat in the cafeteria like a disease.

People were saying it was like a zombie apocalypse with all the meat moving around the room. Some even said they saw the Lunch Lady ghost appear for a second before she noticed Danny in the middle of it and left terrified. Which if that was true Valerie couldn’t blame her. Danny’s eating habits probably made her turn in her grave.

‘’You didn’t eat it, did you?’’ she asked, squinting at a small piece of meat that apparently survived whatever happened to the rest of it and was slowly crawling away from them, likely trying to escape. Danny picked it up and squashed it in his hand before it got far.

‘’Obviously I did.’’ he turned to her with a familiar shit-eating grin on his face, moving the thing he caught closer to his mouth as if to prove a point.

Damn him. How could he be so endearing even when he was being disgusting?

She shook her head chuckling and looked at Cujo instead. He was looking right back at her expectantly. Right.

‘’No Cujo, no treats until you find Phantom for me.’’ she said sternly. She saw Danny trip over a trash can lid out of the corner of her eye. ‘’You good there?’’

‘’Wha-Yes! Ha- Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine! Don’t mind me!’’ he tried to act cool, almost losing his footing again. Dork.

Cujo whined at her, stepping from front paw to front paw and cocking his head to the right. He knew damn well he looked cute when he did that, no matter which form.

‘’Baby, no. I’m not gonna cave. Find Phantom and I’ll give you a treat then.’’ she said calmly trying to stroke him behind the ear, but since he was in big mode she had to settle for his cheek.

He whined a bit more letting out a little pathetic bark to go with it. He turned and stalked over to Danny, poking him in the back with his nose, which made the boy squeak.

‘’No, Cujo.’’ she said, sighing. ‘’That’s the wrong Danny you’re thinking of.’’

‘’Y-Yeah, buddy!’’ Danny chuckled nervously, petting Cujo’s snout. ‘’I’m not the one you’re looking for! Definitely not! I’m not Phantom, why would you even think that? You’re not thinking that right?’’

Okay he was acting weird. Almost as if he was hiding something.

Valerie looked him up and down. His eyes were wide, observing her every move with fear. One arm was rubbing his neck, which he always did when he was nervous. The other still stroking Cujo’s fur almost instinctively.

That’s when it clicked.

‘’No fucking way.’’ she uttered absolutely baffled.

It made so much sense.

‘’W-What?’’ he asked, his voice cracking.

‘’How many times did that asshole leave you as a dogsitter?’’

She knew Phantom did that. She caught Cujo in the background of one of Danny’s tiktoks a while ago and when she confronted Phantom about it he admitted to ‘’hiring’’ Danny as a dogsitter sometimes.

If that asshole left Cujo with Danny too often, then no wonder the poor puppy would mistake Danny for his second caretaker. Oh she was going to kick his irresponsible ghost ass even harder now!

‘’Uh… w-wha..?’’ Danny tilted his head questionably.

‘’I know about the dogsitting, Danny. And it looks like he’s leaving Cujo with you so often that the dog thinks you’re him!’’

‘’Oh… you think-’’ he knitted his eyebrows in confusion before his eyes widened. ‘’Oh! Oh, hahah, he didn’t- I mean it wasn’t many times! Maybe like twice! Is this the dog? I didn’t even recognise him, I don’t even remember his name!’’

Cujo whined again, turning into his puppy form and jumped in Danny’s arms, who barely managed to catch him in time. He started sniffing and licking his face distressed.

‘’Cujo stop! I mean! Dog whose name I don’t remember…’’ that made Cujo whine even harder and Danny flinched. He instantly gave up and buried his face in Cujo’s fur. Valerie could barely hear him mutter ‘’I can’t do this to you.’’

That interaction only reaffirmed Valerie’s suspicions.

‘’Don’t cover up for him.’’ she said, crossing her arms. ‘’I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at him. He’s going to pay for this too.’’

‘’Uh…why were you even looking for him in the first place? Did he do something?’’

‘’Yes, he knows what he did! And now this! The moment I find him I’m gonna kick his ass so hard he’ll be the gone kind of dead!’’

‘’… well you definitely won’t find him now…’’

‘’What?’’

‘’Nothing!’’ Danny shoved Cujo in her arms and started walking off before she could even react. ‘’Anyway I’ll be going now! Gotta finish cleaning so Lancer doesn’t kill me! Bye Val!’’

‘’Bye-....wait…what did you just call me?’’

Danny stopped frozen in his tracks. She stared at his back bewildered.

He slowly turned around and stared back at her too.

‘’...Bye Red Huntress! It was nice to see you, I’ll go disappear behind that corner now!’’ he yelled nervously and booked it behind said corner.

It took her a second to shake off the shock. Cujo jumped out of her arms as she quickly followed after the boy.

‘’DANNY.’’

She rounded the corner to see that he did in fact disappear. Shit.

She was sure he called her Val. How did he know about her secret identity? She was always so careful! It did explain his weird behavior though, he probably didn’t know how to act around her like this.

She needed to talk to him immediately, he couldn’t just reveal something like this and run off!

Though that is exactly what he did. How did he even disappear like that? This boy was impossible sometimes.

In frustration she knocked her head on the wall a few times. What was her life at this point?

Her thoughts got interrupted when she heard Cujo’s bark and a yelp come from behind her. Turning around only provided her with even more frustration when she saw Danny mcfucking Phantom laying helplessly under Cujo’s once again big paw.

‘’Why must you do this to the hand that feeds you…’’ he hissed to Cujo before turning his attention towards Valerie. ‘’Hey Red! You look very good today! Are those new arm plates on your suit?’’

Danny Fenton could wait. She was gonna deal with this asshole first.

‘’YOU.’’ she roared stalking over to them. Cujo looked up at her coming closer and switched to his puppy form again laying his whole body on Phantom’s chest, wagging his tail and barking excitedly.

‘’Ah.. hahah, have you been looking for me?’’ Phantom said, raising into a sitting position, even though Cujo was making it difficult for him.

‘’I’m going to end you!’’ Valerie yelled, pulling out her gun and making sure to aim it at his face and away from the dog in his lap.

‘’I thought we had a truce! What did I do?!’’

‘’YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHAT YOU DID.’’

‘’No, I actually don’t!’’

She let her gun disappear back into her suit and angrily knelt beside them. Picking up Cujo from his lap, she turned him around to show Phantom a charred section of fur on his right back leg.

‘’I FOUND SOME SINGED FUR ON CUJO AGAIN. You were playing too harshly with him! again!’’ she put the puppy down, so she could stand up summoning her gun back and aim it at the ghost boy in front of her.

Phantom looked from the gun to her, at Cujo and then back to the gun.

‘’……. Listen in my defense he really likes fetching ectoblasts…’’

‘’He’s gonna be fetching your ectoplasm when I’m done with you! What were you thinking?! He’s not one of your vile rouge buddies! He’s a little puppy! How many times have I told you to be softer with him?!’’

‘’Valerie, with all due respect…That dog can chew off Skulker’s head, he can take a few tiny burns! He doesn’t even react to it!’’ he defended standing up too. He kept his hands in the air as a sign of surrender. ‘’Can’t I just play catch with my own son?’’

Cujo barked from the side.

‘’UgH your SON that you constantly leave with Danny! Apparently you do that so often that he’s more used to Danny’s scent than yours!’’ she yelled irritated.

‘’Uh…I’m a ghost…. I don’t have a scent?’’ he answered, uncertain before nodding to himself. ‘’Yes. Yes! I don’t have… a scent for him to find. Only uh… Only material beings do.’’ he added still unsure and she swore she could hear him mutter something about being a genius.

‘’What.’’

‘’He couldn’t sniff me out and uh… you and Danny are the only humans who have me on speed dial so he thought that was the best next thing. Yes, that’s definitely it.’’

‘’…What.’’

‘’Yeah! It’s true! Totally! So he did good!’’ he motioned to Cujo which made him wag his tail more. ‘’Give him a treat, he deserves it. He’s a good boy!’’

The puppy barked happily.

‘’Yeah, you are!’’ Phantom crouched to coddle Cujo. ‘’Your mother just couldn’t see it! But don’t worry, your cool ass dad always got your back.’’

There he goes again with the family bullshit. Valerie slumped defeated and hid her gun.

‘’Ugh. Stop saying things like that to him, we’re not a family.’’ she groaned.

‘’Well yeah, we’re divorced.’’

‘’We never even dated!’’

‘’As far as you know.’’ he looked up at her with his dumb trademark smirk.

‘’What’s that supposed to mean?’’ she asked because what the actual fuck did he mean by that.

‘’Nothing!’’ he stood up quickly picking up Cujo to shove him in her arms and woah, did that give her deja vu. ‘’I have to go, can I have a rain check on that ass kicking? I’m very busy right now!’’

‘’Wha- No!’’ she protested trying to keep Cujo from licking her face. ‘’Get back here!’’

‘’Bye Val!’’ he yelled and flew off before she had the time to react. God damn it!

She turned her gaze down to Cujo’s pleading eyes.

‘’Alright.’’ she pulled out a dog treat from a tiny storage in her glove and gave it to Cujo. ‘’You did good baby.’’

She put him down on the ground so he could devour the treat in peace and sighed loudly. Phantom ran off like a little bitch and apparently Cujo couldn’t sniff him out. He would just go to Danny again.

Which reminded her. She still needed to have a talk with that boy. She did trust him not to tell anyone, but she needed to know how he found out in the first place, so she can make sure no one else can find out the same way. She should probably give him a bit of time before she gets Cujo to stalk him out again though.

The puppy had finished his little treat and was now looking at her with those cute red puppy dog eyes. She couldn’t hold back the smile that overtook her face. Whatever. She’ll deal with Danny at school tomorrow. And deal with Phantom whenever she sees him next.

‘’C’mon Cujo. Let’s go home.’’

It was on the way home when a sudden thought hit her.

DID PHANTOM TELL DANNY ABOUT HER IDENTITY THE SAME WAY HE DID WITH HER DAD?

[catreginae]

I'm not going to tag people or reblog the post but it's driving me nuts.

So a couple of days ago, somebody named fiercedeitylink10 (please do not harass them) reposted stolen work. How do I know it was stolen? Because OP added their signature, some of their socials (not tumblr unfortunately) along with the line 'do not repost' on it. Sure, it's kind of subtle, but if you took a moment to look, you can see where there's something a little weird with the picture because suddenly there's a couple of weird lines... you know, the watermark.

I (on my personal blog) made a note in the replies that it was stolen and told OP to just reblog the original because it adds the work to their blog while OP gets the credit. Somebody else posted a link to the original in the replies. I watched it get 4 reblogs after me and somebody else made these comments in the replies.

This is NOT the first time this month I've seen reposted and stolen artwork in the LU tag where it a) gets likes and reblogs and b) it's kind of blatant. These people aren't even trying.

I urge EVERYBODY to please spend a little extra time looking for watermarks and looking to see if the watermarks match the person who is posting it before you like or reblog. Also see if somebody blatantly states its not their art but otherwise doesn't state if they have permission to repost said work and a link to OP. Any positive attention urges these people to continue to steal more work to get their 15 minutes of fame. This also discourages artists from posting their art in the first place because thieves getting reblogs is demoralizing.

Usually thieves try a little harder to make it look it's theirs. These people didn't even have to do that. I know those there is a lot of nice work out there but make sure it is the person who made the work that gets some fucking credit for it and I'm kind of disappointed that blatantly stolen work is getting any reblogs even after a couple of us to tried to say that it's reposted.

Anyway, this original. I'll be the second person in this situation to give some credit to the real artist.

[sincerely-sofie]

It took me a minute to finally get my notes straight so I could answer this— I hope it was worth the wait! I’ll give some bullet points of tips I use to help boost my production speed in addition to the strategies I use to try to keep characters consistent. Let’s get into it!

First up: How I draw faster!

Note that these mostly apply to digital art, as that’s my preferred medium.

If your art program has them, experiment with brush stabilization levels. My hands shake really bad, especially while I’m drawing, so I put a lot of effort into finding a stabilizer level that works with my need to control lines while also smoothing out the tremors in my hands. It’s made it so much easier to draw lines like I want to, and therefore lets me move on instead of redrawing the same line over and over again.

Creating templates for your art helps so much— setting up things like canvas size, color profile, DPI, background colors and images like the paper texture PNGs that I love to use ahead of time helps me get drawing faster, while I’m excited and inspired! Similarly, having a naming system for your art files is useful for speed as well as finding and organizing old pieces easier.

Having premade color palettes of local colors for characters is also super helpful for speed, as well as keeping characters on model :>

Personally, I use a single brush for lineart and rely on the selection tool and bucket fill for coloring when I actually bother to color things in. My lines are pretty loose nowadays, and the same goes for when I color things— I don't abide exactly by the lineart I draw, and get pretty messy with the selection tool and bucket fill!

I simplify character designs as much as possible— the standard design of a sigilyph, for example, is pretty complex. But I made Sen a lot simpler (and also forgot the spikes on her torso in this panel. Oops)

As for keeping characters on-model…

I’m very flattered that you feel otherwise, but I actually don't keep characters very on-model between different drawings— just look at the different ways I've drawn Ark below— however, I'm improving over time as I become more familiar with how I want to draw the characters! A big part of my process of keeping characters on model is drawing characters over and over to familiarize myself with how they should look through trial and error.

Learning common angles and poses I will draw characters in is very helpful for making sure they look consistent. As a bit of a downside, though, it makes wonkier angles stick out like a sore thumb! Drawing Ark with his head slightly angled downward was really hard, and I don't think I communicated it that well here:

I try to have the characters broken down into as many simple shapes that fit into each other as I possibly can, like Twig’s head (circle + rectangle snout + angled rectangle horn) Ark's hair (that weird bangs shape) and Dusknoir's upper body (beanbag shape / slightly elongated circle torso, arms coming out of his frill that comes in a very particular arcing line). This makes it way easier to draw characters quickly and consistently, because I can learn those lines and shapes and get the motion of drawing them into muscle memory.

Also, knowing the ways characters emote is like knowing cheat codes. Giving characters things like a signature comedic expression of shock or grin that they make when they're happy are very helpful!

The biggest tip I can give on the topic of keeping characters on-model (at least without model sheets— model sheets are THE way to go. Don’t be like Sofie and neglect those pieces of gold) is really just to practice. Build up familiarity with the shapes and proportions of characters, get a feel for how your hand and wrist moves to get the lines right.

[androphagos]

New restaurant in town - Ahmad's Grill

Ahmad's Grill has taken the town by storm. Its signature dish? Grilled male meat, kebabs, and skewers, all expertly prepared with a Middle Eastern flair. The aroma of spices fills the nostrils of every passer-by.

I visited the restaurant today for the first time and I was impressed with the affordable prices and the quality of each dish. I couldn't help but notice the display case filled with various cuts of male meat, including kebabs and whole legs, arms, torsos and heads on skewers. Intrigued, I ordered the restaurant's specialty, a meat variety platter, which includes a selection of kebabs and two skewered legs and feet of a man. I had heard that it's their most popular dish and the meat is said to have a unique, rich flavor that pairs perfectly with their homemade sauces and dips. My waiter, a well-dressed gentleman with a warm smile, took my order and returned a few minutes later with a freshly grilled platter of succulent meat. 

As I snapped a photo of my meal, I couldn't help but marvel at the intricate presentation and the smoky aroma that filled the air. A laminated photo of a man in his late 20s was placed between the legs on the platter. I asked the waiter more about the man I was about to eat. 

The waiter, looking slightly uncomfortable but still polite, told me the story as he knows it. The man, whose name was Jason, had come to the city for a fresh start. He was a struggling artist, trying to make a living off of his paintings. He'd heard about the new restaurant opening up and had been hoping to maybe sell some of his work there. He'd met the owner, a charming man named Ahmad, who had promised him not only a place to display his art, but also a job serving drinks and helping out in the kitchen.

As the waiter continued, his voice lowered and he glanced around cautiously, clearly uncomfortable with the subject matter but determined to share what he knew. He revealed to me that Jason had no idea what the owner's true intentions were when he took the job. It wasn't until after he'd signed some papers that he realized Ahmad had trapped him in a situation with no easy way out. The owner had taken advantage of Jason's desperation, manipulating him into thinking that this was his best chance at success when in reality, it was a trap. 

My eagerness for more information was palpable, and the waiter, despite his initial hesitation, seemed to be warming up to the subject. He leaned in closer, lowering his voice even further as he continued. "Well, the way Ahmad did it was real sneaky. He made Jason sign some papers that basically made him a partner in the restaurant. But there was a catch. Those papers also gave Ahmad the right to do whatever he wanted with Jason's body. And I mean whatever. It was all legal and above board, because Jason had signed it away. But of course, he had no idea what that really meant... Long story short, Jason didn't find out about the real nature of those papers until it was too late. By then, he was already deep in debt to Ahmad, and there was no way out. Ahmad had him by the balls, so to speak. So, Jason did what he had to do to pay off his debts and keep himself alive. He worked in the restaurant, served drinks, and even helped out in the kitchen. But the worst part was when Ahmad started talking to all of us, including Jason, about using his body for the restaurant's signature dishes. At first, Jason refused, but Ahmad just threatened to get his brother and other men of his family served at the restaurant if he didn't comply. Jason had nowhere else to go, so he eventually gave in." 

Apparently Ahmad was very meticulous about the process of capturing and preparing Jason for the menu. He waited outside his house two weeks ago, with a few employees of his. And once Jason exited his door, they captured him. First, they made sure that Jason was drugged and unconscious before bringing him back to the restaurant, this time simply as meat. Once there, he was carefully cleaned and inspected by the chef, who selected the parts that would be served to customers. The rest of Jason's body would be preserved using special techniques, ensuring that his meat would remain fresh and tender for future meals and trophies.

As I glanced around the restaurant, I noticed that the walls are adorned with a dozen of handsome heads. Each head was carefully mounted on a wooden plaque, featuring a date and the name of the individual who was served as last week's special. My gaze landed on one particular head, which looked strikingly similar to Jason's. The waiter noticed my interest and stepped forward, gesturing toward the trophy. "Yes, that's Jason's head," he said softly, "it was on display as the top trophy for two whole weeks before Ahmad decided it was time to move on to someone new. You see, each week, Ahmad would choose a new person from the kitchen staff to feature as our 'Trophy of the Week.' It's sort of a morbid reward system, I guess. The more loyal and hardworking you were, the longer your head stays up there." the waiter said.

I was certainly shocked by the waiter's words. It kind of makes me want to open my own restaurant one day. I wonder if I'd be able to use Ahmad's tactics if I was in his position. 

To sum up, the food at Ahmad's was absolutely incredible. It's a shame what happened to Jason, but even he would admit that the dishes made from his flesh were unlike anything else you could find anywhere else.

[gravity-what]

Do you think drawing was something Guan just did professionally, or was a hobby he enjoyed somewhat? Do you think there is (or was) a picture he drew that was their equivalent of a team photo? Just a happy scene of the 3 (or 4 counting Dojo) of them hanging out or looking cool?

Guan was given a standard private education before entering into the temple which included the Four Books and Five Classics curriculum along with military books such as the art of war. However, given his status as a middle child he was also taught a lot of the arts. Reading and writing were obviously a must anyway, but he was also taught calligraphy and painting (he also learned tea ceremonies and music).

Which is a long way to say that drawing was just a part of his formal education and, given that he was actually good at it, the monks took advantage of that to get him to do a lot of the art in the scrolls, especially those pertaining to his time with Dashi. So it was more a professional venture for him.

However I do think he enjoyed it well enough. Art in general was something he was praised for having skill in so he certainly didn’t find it a burden. He was happy to provide such a service to others and stamp his signature at the end.

As for personal art though…he preferred sculpture for that. He created all of the statues in his own temple (not to mention the temple itself) and most of the older ones at the temple the kids are at. He has things like his book about how Chase became evil which are technically personal books/informal one. But most of those are specific stories of his accomplishments with appropriate art (and, it probably does say a bit about him that one of the few other ‘books’ he has in that group that doesn’t pertain to himself is all about Chase).

If there ever was a drawing of the OG trio +Dojo it has long since stopped fitting into the image that Guan was trying to paint for himself and so was likely destroyed…if it ever existed in the first place. It was the first time Guan ever used an element that was not his own. Fire. There was so much of his past-life to burn. And what a way to start a new one. With ash and a brand new element to master and control.

[this answer became much longer than I had planned…whoops]

[rwprincess]

Worth a Shot (Fred Benson x Fem!Reader)

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.6k

Synopsis: A few inconspicuous touches during movie night lead you to make a bold move in regards to your feelings for Fred during a late night in the Newspaper Office

CW: spoilers for The Elephant Man, anxiety, first kiss

It didn't start this way. At first, you were just part of a group of kids put together with a common goal: to tackle the school newspaper. 'Work colleagues' turned to friends, which evolved into its current stage of an infatuated crush. While you didn't let on to the latter and counted yourself rooted firmly in the "friends" category, you longed for something more. But, given your current status, you simply suggested 'hanging out' tonight and Fred accepted.

"We could rent a movie," you suggested and Fred gave you one of his signature deadpan stares. "What? What's that look for?"

"I hate going to the video store."

"Why? There's not a ton to do here as it is, options are limited, Freddie."

"Mm, mostly not fond of the buffoons who work there."

"That Robin girl seems nice enough," you chided.

"Sure, but admit it, she's pretty scatterbrained," he said and you gave a non-commital shrug before he continued,  "and then Steve Harrington? Need I say more?" He scoffed.

"Yes. What's your deal with Steve?" You asked.

"What's my problem with Mr. Perfect Empty-Headed Steve? Hmm, I wonder." He put on a faux-thoughtful expression and you giggled. "He also hits on you any time we're there." He muttered, fiddling with his glasses: a nervous habit he'd picked up to try to cover his emotions or lessen his anxiety. 

"Steve hits on every girl in a five-mile radius," you shrugged, trying to be nonchalant.

"And that doesn't bother you?" When you only gave him an 'eh' response and another shrug, he followed up with, "what, do you want him to hit on you?" He adjusted his glasses with the other hand now. He didn't really want to know the answer. 

"Pfft. Good God, no." You replied and the tension dropped from his shoulders, but you didn't notice.  "I just don't care because nothing will come out of it. I only surround myself with people who I find intellectually stimulating." You reached out a hand and gently ran it along his jaw, then patted his cheek. "That's what I have you for, my dear boy." It was a risky move on your part, it seemed like too obvious a gesture. But Fred didn't say anything about it or use the opportunity to try to make a move on you. He simply sighed as you took your hand away, which you took as frustration with your insistence on going to the video store but was really his way of lamenting the withdrawal of physical contact and his consistent inability to read you. It seemed like it was a good sign that you would say you didn't want the hot, popular (and willing) Steve and then to point out that you enjoyed Fred's company instead, but he could never be sure and he had to be. He didn't want to ruin the good thing you already had because he was deluding himself into believing you could be something more.

"Fine. We can go get a movie." He acquiesced. Truthfully, with that one touch, he was already done for. He knew you weren't consciously manipulating him, you just didn't know the hold you had over him. To try to save some of his dignity, he added, "but I get to pick." 

"Look, I get that it's an artistic masterpiece,  but you couldn't have picked something slightly less…depressing?" You hadn't argued with his choice at the store as he was already testy and you could see his agitation grow with Steve hovering to 'make recommendations,' but now you were at your house and you were definitely judging his choice of The Elephant Man.

"Have you actually seen it?" He asked, dryly as you thoroughly examined the VHS cover. 

"No, but I've heard it's sad. Good, but…sad." You sighed at the stern look on his face, knowing you weren't going to win.

"The good outweighs the sad," he said doing air quotes around your words he was echoing, "I promise. You love art, you'll love the makeup in this. It's so good that the Academy was pressured into making an award for best makeup effects."

"Really?" Now he had you interested, and he knew it.

"Are you questioning me and my sources?" He asked, falsely aghast, which made you roll your eyes in response.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm going to go make popcorn. You deal with…that." You gestured to the TV and accompanying VHS setup before heading to the kitchen, unaware that Fred was watching you, smirking.

So far, it wasn't a bad movie. It started with some curious surreal scenes and took some time building a dramatic reveal for John Merrick, The Elephant Man's makeup, which you found astonishing as Fred had promised.  You both were quietly invested by the time Dr. Treves took John to his own home to meet his wife, Anne. 

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr. Merrick." The character of Anne said, cordially. 

"I'm very pleased…"  John began to return in kind, before breaking down in sobs.

"What is it, John? What's the matter?"

"It's just that I-I'm not used to being treated so well by a beautiful woman…" Merrick replied and you put a hand over your touched heart. Meanwhile, Fred was eyeing you from his periphery, feeling very much the same as Merrick in that moment. While he didn't have a severe condition, of course, he had been ostracized growing up, particularly by girls who thought he was a loser. And yet, here you sat next to him, beautiful and kind. 

Later, you sat tensed up on the couch. It was what you assumed to be the climax: a gaggle of strangers chasing and harrassing Merrick through a train station until they had him cornered. "Why can't they just mind their own business?" You lamented to Fred, "It seems like every problem could be solved in this movie if everyone just minded their business and left him alone." Fred gave you a soft smile, knowing what you were trying to say, before you turned your attention back to the screen.

"I am not an animal! I am a human being! I am a man!" John cried and you felt tears spring up into your eyes. Instinctively, you grabbed Fred's hand. It was an unconscious gesture and you didn't realize you'd done it, really, until you felt his reassuring squeeze. You continued to hold on to him like a safety blanket until the danger in the movie seemed to have passed. 

At the end of the film, Fred looked to you and asked, "So, did you like it?"

You looked up at him with still wet eyes, swiping away the remaining tears. It definitely stirred up emotions in you and the evidence was plain to see on your face and the hems of your damp sleeves. "Yes. The good outweighed the sad, you were right."

"Aren't I usually?" He said with mock pride, trying to lighten the mood and cheer you up. It worked and you gave a tearful chuckle in response.

"Yeah, yeah. I shouldn't have doubted you. Thank you for making me watch such an emotionally devastating piece. I'm a better person for it." You joked, sticking out your tongue and he laughed, reaching up to wipe away one stray tear from your cheek with his thumb.  It was clear that he wasn't thinking about his touch before initiating it, either, as his face immediately turned red and he stumbled to adjust his glasses.

"Um, yeah." He cleared his throat looking away quickly. "Well, it's getting late, I should probably go." He stood up, looking to make a quick and flustered exit. "You don't have to. It's not that late. I could always drive you home later," you offered. He hesitated, pausing for just a moment as though he were going to say more, but just shook his head.

"No, no. I-I best be going. I'll see you later." He spun around and left through your front door before you could make another plea for him to stay. He feared he was already in too deep.

About a week later, you found Fred working late in the Weekly Streak office. Neither of you had brought up the "Elephant Man incident" (as you referred to it in your head), but you had definitely run through it in your mind countless times to try to process it. Fred was not a particularly open person and he seemed pretty vulnerable that night.  You still weren't sure what your touches and interactions meant. Maybe he just acted on human instinct the way you had when you reached for his hand. But even then, you had to admit to yourself that you had done that because it had been Fred there.  The impulse would have been curbed if it were someone else.

He was working studiously at his desk, brows furrowed in concentration and gaze down at his latest work. You took the sight in for just a moment. The hunched shoulders that always made him appear smaller than he was, his signature sweater vest and watch, and of course his large glasses, framing his adorably wide eyes. You sighed softly at the sight before approaching him. You placed a hand on him and he went rigid at the touch, not expecting it, but you saw him visibly relax as he realized it was you. "I think you need to take a break. You look tense." You said, giving his shoulder a squeeze before letting go, not noticing the way he sank into the touch. "C'mon, I brought you a Coke. Caffeine is perfect for meeting deadlines, right?"

He gave you a weak smile as he slid back from his desk to follow you,  "Thanks."

"Don't sweat it. I have Razzles too." You winked and he chuckled at your enthusiasm while shaking his head.

"Somehow, I'm not surprised."    

You sat on the floor, leaning your backs into some of the archives shelves, both facing the same direction.  You put your legs out in front of you, crossing them at the ankles as you talked. Fred was folded awkwardly and pretzel-like beside you as you talked. "I have an idea for a sort of game," you began as your previous conversation had died down. You stood up and gathered a couple of supplies: a few pieces of paper and an empty mug off of Mrs. Callahan's desk. "I guess it's kind of like truth or dare, but you kind of have to earn it."

Fred raised an eyebrow at you,  "I have no idea in the slightest what you mean."

You placed the cup on the floor a good distance in front of him and returned to sit by his side. "So, before you can ask me a question or I have to commit to a wager or whatever, you have to make the shot." You ripped off a small piece from the paper and wadded it up as an example. "Like, I get to pick the next movie night if I make it. If I don't, you do." You tossed the paper at the mug, watching as it bounced off the side. He looked at you as though you'd grown another head. "C'mon. It'll be fun." You nudged his shoulder with yours and he gave in with a nod, taking a paper from your hands.

"Um…I make it in and you have to interview Jason Carver about the basketball game. Save me from doing it." He tossed his balled-up paper and sank it into the mug. "Yessss." He hissed triumphantly.

"Ugh, thanks so much for the assignment. Let's see… if I make it, you have to tell me the most embarrassing thing that happened to you in elementary school." You poised yourself to arch the paper perfectly in, but Fred coughed beside you and ruined your aim. "Oh, come now. You did that on purpose!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied stoically and you laughed, pushing him playfully.

"Come on," you whined, "I didn't know you back then. I wanna know!"

"Become a better shot, then.  Rookie move."

"Fred Benson!" You feigned shock, "I have never been so insulted."

"I can't help it if it's true. And I didn't make the rules of this game, you did." He said, clicking his tongue, trying to hide the devious smile creeping up his face. "My turn. Uh…would you rather be poor and work at a job you love, or be well-off at a job you hate?" Of course he made his shot.

"This is not fair. I didn't expect you to be this good at this. You always claim to have no athletic ability," you complained.

"It's not a difficult question. It's not even that personal."

"I know but it's the principle of it."

"Well, you chose this game and you have to admit that you have no spatial reasoning. That's the only way it's working for me." He shrugged. "Anyway, quit stalling. Answer."

"Job I love.  I mean, I don't get paid for working on The Streak but I stay because I love it." He nodded in acceptance of your answer and you battled back with a question of your own, "If you could have any superpower, what would it be?" You took the chance and almost whooped in victory as you got your first scrap of paper in. "Yes! I made it! In your face!"

"What are you, six?" He asked with an eye roll, "I dunno. I guess reading minds selectively would be a good power. I'm never really sure if people are being honest or not."

"Hmm. Would be good for investigating too. See if someone's hiding the truth."

The two of you went back and forth. You, of course, had many more misses but kept trying, having faith you'd make it in. With your last ball, you threw caution to the wind and escalated the game. You had no idea why you decided to take the risk but the dare rolled from your mouth before you could stop it. "If I make it in, you have to kiss me." Fred gulped in response and you tried to delicately throw the paper,  hoping against hope that this one would go in, but it bounced off the rim. "Damn," you whispered and felt your face growing hot, both at your failure and your proposition. You both sat in silence for a moment and you began quaking with regret.

"Did you mean that?" Fred asked softly, voice barely above a whisper. You remembered what he said about never being sure if someone was honest.

"Yes," you squeaked, with a nod. Your throat had become unbearably dry and you were almost incapable of making a sound but you had to tell him the truth. 

He didn't speak, but looked at you, trying to read your expression.  Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours gently before pulling back. Your eyes widened in surprise and your heart took up residence in your throat.  You bit your lip nervously and Fred said, "I shouldn't have done that." You began to panic,  a million thoughts racing through your mind at once before he cracked a smile and said, "I mean, you didn't make the shot. You didn't earn it."

"Oh my God!" You shoved him, nearly knocking him off balance, so you pulled him back up. "I thought you meant you regretted it or didn't like me, or-or, oh, you jerk!' You cried out as he laughed.

"Hey, I gave that one to you because I wanted to." His laugh quieted down and he looked at you more seriously now. "Can I…can I kiss you again?" He looked apprehensively to your lips and then back to your eyes.

"What? Without making the shot?" You joked,  "We both know you would have made it anyway." You smiled at him as you placed your hands on either side of his face, his eyes fluttering closed at the touch before you pressed your lips to his this time.  

[dreamystella]

How to be like: Sofía Vergara

Sofia Vergara is a freaking goddess. She is literally what anyone could dream about, her personality, her looks, her pride in culture is something we all wish we could adopt. Here is some tips to be more like Sofía Vergara:

𝕊𝕠𝕗𝕚𝕒'𝕤 ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪:

Sofía has an extroverted personality and is incredibly sociable. Try talk to some new people, and if you are shy, try to just hang out more with your friends, ask potentially interesting people to hang out later.

Participate in conversations and give your opinion. Sofía does not sit out conversations unless it doesn't involve her and is always ready to give her opinion on something. As a judge on AGT, she was one of the kindest judges, always giving honest and critical feedback, but doing it so kindly and sweetly at the same time- one of her most admirable qualities.

Sofía knows her strengths and knows how to use them for hers and those around her, advantage. If you know you have great hair, flaunt it, if you know you are amazing at art, develop it further. Trying to fix our weaknesses is amazing, but try focus on the strengths if you want to be like Sofía.

She is not afraid of a challenge, such as in Griselda, Sofía had to change her mannerisms, her body, everything she usually relied on for the role.. But she took on the challenge as an experience and she had a beautiful outcome. Similarly, don't back down from a challenge (unless it harms you in some way), try to find a way to learn from the challenge- i know it sounds cliché, but it's really helpful.

𝕊𝕠𝕗𝕚𝕒'𝕤 𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖:

First, Sofía gives her face a nice wash using the Toty Escensical Balancing cleanser, to refresh herself but does not dry out the skin. I haven't used it myself but it has incrredibly high reviews and it costs $32.

The most important part of her skincare is, SPF. I recommend it, regardless of which person you want to be, if you want a glow up, use an SPF. Sofía will usually apply the Ilumina CC cream using a brush and if extra coverage is required, she also applies the Toty's CC creamy compact cream.

Apply any makeup afterwards, but remember to wash it off before you go to bed.

𝕊𝕠𝕗𝕚𝕒'𝕤 𝕄𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕦𝕡:

Mascara is a must if you want to look like Sofía Vergara. She uses too faced better than sex, or something like that to make her eyes look bigger and have longer lashes- she uses make up to enhance her features.

Don't pile much on foundation as she does use it, but she admits that she prefers to use artificial self tan and skin care products as it just gives her a preferred result.

If wanting her lip colour, use lipstick in any pinkish, nude shade possible. I myself would recommend Charlotte Tilbury's Hot Lips Lipstick, Liv it up pink, or the darker red one as these are her signature lipsticks.

She likes to play around with makeup looks, so dont be shy in trying new looks. She had a small era where she grew much more bushier eyebrows, compared to her signature thin ones.

𝕊𝕠𝕗𝕚𝕒'𝕤 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕤𝕖𝕥:

Always be positive. Sofía is rarely seen in any interview where she has entered with a bad mood, so try to be like that and think more positive.

Be proud of your culture and heritage as Sofía also is. She has been teased and made fun of because of her accent countless times. However, she has never bothered to apologise, in fact, she tries to emphasise her culture any way she can.

Try to be more easy going, as that is one of her's most noticeable qualities. Some tips to be more easy going include: writing in a gratitude journal to be more grateful, make more plans with your friends and stop negative self-talk.

She has this desire to improve herself, and looks up at her fellow co-star Julie Bowen due to Julie's determination and strict workout pattern. It doesn't matter if Sofía is an international superstar, she always tries to be the best version of herself.

Be more confident in yourself!.

"Confident people have a way of carrying themselves that makes others more attracted to them." - Sofía Vergara

Remember that creating confidence might take you some time, so don't stress about it, and take it slow and steady

Not everybody's confident their whole life.- Sofía Vergara

Don't be botgered of what others say, their opinion does not matter.

I think I'm going to be stereotyped forever, but I'm not scared of being stereotyped.- Sofía Vergara

𝔻𝕒𝕚𝕝𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕗𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕪𝕝𝕖:

Sofía has a very big sweet tooth, and she does treat herself some times, but she focuses on heating healthy leafy foods and vegatables.

To be as confident as Sofía, practice positive self-talk.

“Beauty is really all about confidence. If you feel beautiful, then you are beautiful.”- Sofía Vergara.

Sofía does not workout as much as expected of her, mainly because she dislikes it A LOT. And that is completely understandable, she does work out a bit due to her age and the requirement of muscles, but she doesn't force herself to do something she dislikes. So if you don't want to workout every day, try, 3 times a week, if you love working out, workout for the healthy amount of time.

Be proud of your body! Sofía is an endomorph, the body type which is usually considered 'less attractive' as it involves more curves. But Sofía proved that B.S, as she proudly shows off all her curves! No body type is unattractive!

This is kinda random lmao.... pls lemme know if you who you want next- or i could make a self motivation blog

[simpingandprocrastinating]

I wanna know more about your OCs, but I don't know what specific things to ask about. Is it alright to ask for five random facts about them?

No problem sweet anon, I've got you!

I wasn't sure if you meant just 5 facts or 5 facts for each of my OC's so I went with 5 for each. Also because it took me a little longer to answer, I added some extra Hogwarts AU facts.

She decides to become a vet because WoL gives her the opportunity to understand what's wrong with the animals.

‌She visits Nepal with Koichi to see Polnareff, the last man who saw her parents before they were killed.‌

Bini loves to slowdance with Josuke on the music of Prince or Roxette. ‌

Bini sees Tomoko as her mother figure, because she lost her own. ‌

When Bini was younger her favourite stuffed animal was a duckling called 'Dukkie' (Dutch translation: Duckie)

‌Jouichirou is the only child of Josuke who got to meet Joseph (Chirou was still a baby). ‌

‌He acts like he's all tough but when he's alone and listens to his favourite songs, he will sing them aloud. If he's in a good mood, he'll even dance to them, but if someone catches him, he'll be really embarrassed and even try to deny he was doing it.

‌At the age of 25, Jouichirou is 6'5"/195cm in height.

‌5-year-old Jouichirou had a crush on aunty Alexandra Parker. Since Jotaro is married to Alex and is his big example, Chirou also asks her to marry him, but with a candy ring.

‌Chirou's earrings are based of Jotaro's signature part 6 look: the chain hook and the star on the left side of his collar.

Hogwarts edition:

‌Jouichirou would be in Slytherin.

His patronus is a Bat.

‌When a girl comes to admits she has a crush on him, he'll be humble. He rejects her in a way she won't get hurt, maybe loves him even more. He will kiss her hand and tell her there's someone better out there for her than him.

‌During his school time, Touma took it upon himself to become class president.

‌Touma is on the school swim team.

‌His favourite season is winter, because he used to go outside with aunty Gogo when it was snowing. They'd build snowmans and she even learned him how to ice skate.

‌He's scared of heights.

Hogwarts edition:

‌Touma would be in Hufflepuff.

His patronus would be a Newfoundland.

He's is actually pretty great with little kids. ‌

Sei is bisexual. ‌

Seiua's type are proud, loyal, and headstrong men/woman. Let's say if Seiua would meet Ermes Costello, he'd definitely ask her out.‌

This boy can't cook. If he's in the kitchen, he'll burn it down. Keep him away from the stove!

‌He loves reptiles.

Hogwarts edition:

‌Seiua would be in Gryffindor.

His patronus is a Stoat.

Kazumasa is interested in history and wants to become a history professor.

‌He likes fashion alot.

‌Kazu was born on th 2nd of February.

‌He is lactose intolerant so he has to take lactase tablets to digest dairy products.

‌Kazu does have a stand (hence the ability to see stands) but he can't use his own because its locked away in his soul. This means he doesn't know it's name and what it can do.

Hogwarts edition:

‌Kazumasa would be in Ravenclaw.

His favorite spell is Capacious extremis, an extension charm.

Minami's love language is physical touch. She loves to hug her friends and family.

‌She was born on the 25th of December (Christmas).

‌Nami is a sweet tooth, she loves candy.

‌Minami is definitely a morning person, and even a bit too energetic for some people in the early hours.

‌While visiting the Kujo household, Minami first met Narciso Anasui and instantly got a crush.

Hogwarts edition:

‌Minami would be in Gryffindor.

‌She would be in the Gryffindor Quidditch team as a Chaser.

Fumihiro is actually a pretty intimidating young man.

Hiro has green eyes and auburn hair.

At the age of 25, Fumihiro is 6′1″/185cm in height.

He is very protective of Bini and doesn't like Josuke in the slightest.

Fumihiro and Rohan are good friends.

Hogwarts edition:

‌Fumihiro would be in Slytherin, just like Bini.

His favorite subject is Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Alex belongs to @ahoge-fish & Gogo to @helpimhyperfixating.

[doom-nerdo-666]

The Cosplay Slayer skin may have been inspired by a fan cosplay from years ago, by TheScarletImpaler.

(Images taken from the r/Doom post, so credit to TheScarletImpaler)

Here's the Reddit post:

Hello Slayers!

Forgive me as I don't know how to really use Reddit, but I'll try posting here. I'm the inspiration for the latest skin, "Cosplay Slayer." Back in 2012, I made a mediocre cosplay of classic DOOM Guy out of a paintball mask and cardboard. When I saw the latest Eternal skin reveal, Cosplay Slayer, I was very surprised at the specific design of it. At first, I was a bit reluctant to go on about it, but after I dusted off my old helmet and compared to what I saw on screen, I knew that my cosplay from years ago was the main inspiration. Across social media, including the forums, everyone is seeing the inspiration, too, backing me up.

My helmet comparison The cosplay (if these don't work, the images are on a recent Twitter/Insta posts using the same handle)

I know it might be hard to believe, but here is my DeviantArt with pics of it and building it back from 2012:Old DA (if this doesn't work, my DA has the same handle, when you get to the gallery, just search "doom")

I'm posting because I feel like I should receive some sort of credit or recognition for it. I'm not asking much, just something official from Id or Bethesda that makes the connection. Like a quick cosplay spotlight article or social media post. No money or any other compensation. I, and many others, feel that its my unique interpretation of the classic DOOM Guy design, from a time when there was very little reference of it, and because of that, bringing it from 2D art to 3D art took a lot of personal interpretation and physical work that I did. It's also been a childhood dream to be in a video game, now that my work and likeness is in a game, DOOM nonetheless, the joy feels incomplete and hollow because I'm not being connected to it.

Thanks, Alucard

This post is dated from 02 Jul 2020 and 2 years later, he made this post:

Slayers, it has been two years since the Cosplay Slayer skin was released and I have requested to be credited for my unique design. I have been ignored since. I had some IRL stuff get in the way of my original campaign, but now I'm starting this up again. I call upon Bethesda and Id to do the right and honorable thing to credit me and my design.

I know it may sound outlandish and farfetched, but please take a look and you'll see...

To those who do not remember, or need a refresher, I made a DOOM cosplay back in 2012, which was an interpretation of the original DOOM Guy, in a time where barely any reference material existed. So, it ended up to be an unique design. That unique was used without my permission to create the Cosplay Slayer costume. The evidence proves this beyond a shadow of a doubt. The original Reddit post is here https://www.reddit.com/r/Doom/comments/hk2umq/the_original_cosplay_slayer/

To help with this campaign, I've launched a petition to help. I humbly ask for signatures in hopes that Bethesda and Id will realize what they have done and correct the issue favorably. I also ask to pass around this petition around if you can. https://www.change.org/CreditTheCosplaySlayer

I still would like to resolve this without it turning messy, I'm not looking to screw Id or Bethesda for money, nor do I believe this should even become a legal situation - I only want to be credited for my work and my name to be in DOOM Eternal. However, I will do what I must in order to do what is right. If it takes a legal action to get recognized, I will do so.

In these past two years, I've seen countless posts by Bethesda and Id promote fan art and other cosplayers, crediting their efforts all over social media and blogs/articles. Yet I've been ignored completely. This will go on no longer. This cannot go on any longer.

Thank you, Alucard @ScarletImpaler (on Insta/TW)

The reason why i find this situation interesting is because it's another example of how something Doom related comes from the fanbase and ends up in the official series (Or alternatively, how people look at Doom).

I even made a post about things that came from Doom fans and how they impacted the series.

[rockinlore]

#NEWS: Manifesto in U.S., heaven of foods, is that right?

📍Atlanta, Georgia.

There are many things that make Atlanta a great place to visit—the food is just one of them. Visiting Egg Harbour during our concert in Atlanta was one of the most memorable experiences I've had in a long time. The quaint little town was filled with history and charm—the perfect escape for an afternoon getaway. Walking through the old streets, we could see the timeless beauty of the architecture and the vibrant colors that adorned the buildings. The smell of freshly baked bread and pastries wafted through the air, tempting us to stop at the local bakery for a snack.

As we soaked in the atmosphere, we stumbled upon a hidden gem—a small ice cream parlour that looked like it had been plucked straight out of the 1950s. We knew we couldn't pass up the opportunity to indulge in some frozen treats, so we eagerly made our way inside. Rows upon rows of colorful ice cream flavors greeted us, and we couldn't decide which ones to try first. The friendly staff behind the counter helped us narrow down our options and even recommended some local favorites. We were like kids again, licking our cones and giggling at the brain freeze that inevitably followed.

Welcome to New York🗽

Beneath Big Apple Sky. What’s better to call a city covered with the beautiful view whenever you look up to the sky?

New York is a city of many treasures. From the world-famous Rockefeller Center to the iconic Empire State Building, it's home to so much history and culture that it's impossible to see everything in one trip.

But don't be too discouraged! I’ve made ut easy for you: here are places that you simply cannot miss in the Big Apple. Experience the best of New York with a tour of the city's iconic landmarks.

As soon as I walked into Keens Chophouse, I was welcomed by a cozy atmosphere and the savory aroma of steak filling the air. The restaurant's antique decor exuded a timeless and classic feel that I absolutely loved. The menu was extensive, offering various cuts of meat and seafood dishes. The steak was cooked to perfection, paired with delicious sides and mouth-watering appetizers. See the photo of a meat I took of? That’s it!

We walked a few blocks to the iconic Tiffany & Co. flagship store. The bright blue store front immediately caught my eye, and I couldn't wait to explore the different sections of the store. We wandered the luxurious halls, admiring the beautiful jewelry and elegant displays. I also took some time to customize a piece of jewelry with an engraving, making it truly my own.

Lastly, we headed towards Radio City Music Hall and were greeted by the impressive art deco design of the building. The history and grandeur of the venue were undeniable. Upon entering, we were excited to leave our mark by creating our own signatures on the guest book. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and I couldn't have asked for better company to share it with.

p.s. Neeways I'm looking forward to the day when we meet again. 🤘

[ichigopanhpff]

Last Promise

Warnings: Some manga spoilers from the start of The 3 Deities arc, established relationship between Mitsuya and afab!reader. This can be considered a one-shot off of "Begin Again", but can also be enjoyed as a stand alone :D

Genre: Angst, No comfort, Bit of violence.

Banner art by me :)

–

Finding herself feel nostalgic, (Y/N) wandered the twilight streets of Shibuya alone. Looking up at the clear night sky, she sighed at these peaceful days she once yearned for in the past. Suddenly finding herself at the steps of Musashi Shrine, she made her way up to where Toman used to have their meetings, the pale moonlight illuminating her path up. Her brows knitted in confusion upon seeing unconscious bodies laid out by the temple.

She ran up and immediately recognized the first boy with short mousy brown hair.

“Peh-yan!” she called, shaking him by the shoulders in an attempt to wake him, only to see the unresponsiveness of his white eyes. She looked up and her line of sight immediately fell on a familiar set of short lilac hair after seeing Draken’s braided tail and Chifuyu’s undercut.

She gasped and ran to her boyfriend’s side. Carefully rolling him on his back, she supported the upper half of his body by cradling it. His face was littered with bloodied scrapes and bruises; his breath was ragged and winced in pain with every exhale.

“(Y/N)…” he hoarsely groaned and seethed from his injuries. “Get outta here.”

“No way! Are you nuts?!”

His bloody lips tried to form more words, only to have his consciousness slip. She called him a few more times to no avail.

“Oh, it’s you,” a familiar voice called without emotion. She turned to see Mikey staring down at her blankly. He was wearing a set of black sweats.

“Mikey!” she cried and gently set Mitsuya down. “Come help me! Someone’s attacked them!”

While she busied herself trying to prop her boyfriend up against the wall, the blond stood stationary, his dark eyes peering down at the ground. The silence from her friend shot a sudden chill down her spine, sensing ill, malicious intent.

She slowly pivoted her head back at the blond, breathing shallowly with widened eyes.

“… Mikey?” she warily called this time with a shudder in her breath.

“They were pretty stubborn,” he uttered out; she then noticed at his fresh, bloodied knuckles. She slowly stood and faced Toman’s former commander with hesitation, feeling her palms get clammy and her pulse quicken.

“… You did this?” she asked in disbelief. “Why?!”

“I was hoping I wouldn’t see you,” he continued, completely ignoring her questions. Just as he took two steps forward, she took two back with a defensive stance. “You’ll ruin my plans.”

“(Y/N)…” she heard Chifuyu grunt out from the far end, his body struggling to get up. “Run…”

"Mikey..." Draken raggedly called his friend, trying to stand. "Don't..."

“I dunno what you’re trying to do, but you need to st--”

Her sentence was cut off mid-way by Mikey’s burst of speed. He launched his signature roundhouse kick that she managed to dodge by the skin of her teeth, propelling her back near the stairs. She huffed an audible grunt, feeling the sting and rattle of his attack down to her bones. That hit felt like the hilt of a blade impacting the base of someone’s skull.

He was serious this time.

I guess we can’t talk, she thought to herself and prepared to fight. It’d been a while since she’s exchanged hits with anyone after her shoulder healed up and prayed she was successful in knocking some sense back into her kindred spirit.

He charged at her again, this time with a right straight. (Y/N) dodged it and grabbed his arm to twist it behind his back to disengage, only to be countered with his footwork. Steadying herself, she jumped into the offensive and led with a feint before going in with a left low hook to his body. Even though the hit connected, he was able to recover quickly and slugged her in the stomach, making her collapse on one knee and coughed violently.

“What are you trying to say?!”

She steadied her breathing to stand with shaky legs, her glare staring back into a black abyss. She hated what she saw; it was like she was fighting herself from two years ago.

That was it. It all made sense. He’s trying to push them away.

What the actual fuck; he said he wouldn't! Why would he lie? What changed?

“You better explain yourself after this, Manjirou,” she growled out, feeling the adrenaline rush all over.

She had to get aggressive.

The two went head to head and exchanged a high kick before backing off. Mikey charged at her with his punches, to which she managed to defend against. When he extended out again, (Y/N) grabbed his forearm and flipped him successfully. His back hit the pebbled grounds, only to rebound and jump at her again like it never happened. Just as she prepared to counter, the blond suddenly grabbed the back of her head with the kind of gentleness she expected from Mitsuya leaned with a chaste kiss on her lips.

Shocked from the sudden turn of events, she stared back at him after he released.

A single tear streamed from his obsidian eyes filled with pain and loneliness.

That was the last thing she saw before everything went black.

Feeling the cool spring breeze whip through in the calm night, she slowly stirred and fluttered her eyes open. The blurriness of the night sky gave way after adjusting her eyes to see the full moon shining above. She tried to move and immediately winced at the shooting pain from the base of her neck that traveled up to her temples and the middle of her torso, letting out a ragged hiss from her lips from the throbbing headache.

Rather than continuing to fight her, Mikey knocked her out. The tips of her cold fingertips gingerly found their way up to touch her lips; tears slipped uncontrollably out of her eyes.

All the words he couldn’t say were expressed through that one gesture.

“I promised I'd protect everyone no matter what. Be happy and forget me. I love you. Goodbye.”

[glitterdragonthegreatprotector]

Willy's Wonderland backstories for FNAFtale

Willy's Backstory

Willy grew up in his father's footsteps. Their family being part of a satanic cult for generations. Although they didn't see eye to eye, they were father and son. Jerry grew up with murder apart of his life, and just saw it as normal

The deal he made as an adult was strange for his family, but he only made the strange deal out of desperation.

His real name was Jerry Robert Willis

Sara's Backstory

Sara is a butch lesbian that got harassed by TERFs and straight men for most of her life. She murdered men that tried to touch her and "make her straight again". She became known as the "Siren killer", because her main tactic was luring men to motels and brutally murdering them after she forced herself to have sex with them.

Her favorite thing to do, and became one of her signatures as a killer, was to chop off their dicks and force them to suck them or even swallow them. Another one of her signatures was writing songs on the walls of her victims, all of them sapphic in nature. Adding on to the "siren" theme.

Her real name was Sarah Clarke.

Gus' Backstory

Gus was an Eco terrorist that would murder people that were animal abusers or would murder people who were against animal rights. People planning to burn down a forest to make room for homes? Dead the next day. Dog fighters? Fed to their dogs. People who littered on purpose over and over again? Also dead. Nearly got arrested several times by killing members of PETA when he joined them thinking they were genuinely for animal rights. His signature was feeding animals human flesh, taking pictures of meals made from his victims on their phones and posting it to social media, and planting flowers and trees over his victims bodies. Often using endangered plants to ensure they don't get dug up.

His real name was Abel Norman.

Arty's Backstory

He's a murder fan boy, and listened to murder podcasts, and did a lot of research on murder and how to get away with it. His abusive mother didn't do anything about it, only giving him attention when he fucked up, and she beat the hell out of him.

One day she tore up a drawing he did, and he stabbed her in the throat with a pencil. After getting over the fact that he killed his mom, decided to make murder his art form. Trying to find something unique to him that other people that took interest in murderers would be recognize, and maybe become one of their favorite killers.

His real name was Andrew Mortis

Ozzie's Backstory

Ozzie the Ostrich is detrans in FNAFtale. He was Ozwald first, Abby next, then changed his name to Ozzie. His family wasn’t supportive, which led him to grow more violent towards others. When he felt that his new name wasn’t right, he was scared that he lashed out and killed people who misgendered him when he thought he was a girl for nothing. Willy and the others supported him while he went through his gender crisis. Ozzie was the name the gang helped him choose, and he got to be named by a family that cared about him. If the new name didn’t fit, the gang promised to come up with another name. Ozzie has been happy with his name since. He's main victims have always been transphobic assholes and terrible parents.

His real name was Ozzie Thomson.

Cammy's backstory

Talked about Cammy's victims before in a Discord RP with a friend, but now I got more backstory for her.

Cammy grew up as an orphan, and wasn't giving a loving home. By her old parents, or by foster care. Ended up becoming obsessed with being a mother. But when she finally tried to have kids, she found out she was infertile. Physically couldn't no matter how hard she tried. No matter what boyfriend she got, what prostitution she got into, or what sperm bank she tried. Couldn't get pregnant.

Why didn't she adopt right away? She wanted her own child, and prayed that maybe she just wasn't doing something right. After trying and trying, she eventually caved and adopted a kid. Ended up loving them more than she expected, showing the love she never got. But she eventually lost her child in a school shooting, causing her to snap.

Killing families and playing "house" with the kids. Wearing her child's old stuffed animals and dolls as masks. She'd pretend to be a babysitter or nanny to gain her victims trust. Murdering the parents, and turning them into large dolls. Then forcing the kids to play house with her, using their parents bodies as toys. They'd play for weeks before the game would be "over". Sometimes she'd kill the kids too if they played well enough and stayed behaved. To "give her child siblings". Her child's grave ended up becoming a mass grave, because that's where she dumped the bodies. If they cried too much, or insulted her the right way, she'd let them live and drop them off at the nearest orphanage because "she's a bad mommy, and she doesn't want her baby to know that".

Little fact, she kept some of the dolls that she made and they're still rotting in her old house. Waiting for someone in the attic to find them (going to do a thing with them-)

Her real name was Cassandra Porterson

Tito's Backstory

Tito is a "what if" situation. Ended up losing his own family to members of the cult Willy grew up in. Instead of wanting to defeat the family cult though, he wanted to join. Seeing his family die awakened murderous tendencies in him he didn't know we're there. Copying the cult from a distance, trying to find a way to join.

He's like Liv, if Liv went fucking nuts-

We already have a case of a crazy Liv in another one of my AUs. But the reason why I did his origins like this is because

1. Thought it would be cool for at least one of them to already be connected.

2. It would make first meet even funnier and more awkward

His real name was Emiliano López

Knighty's Backstory

He was a crazy christian that actually took the word of god seriously, but in a crusader type of way. Anyone that exploited god's word would be found dead medieval torture style, or they would have been stabbed by his sword.

When he's not murdering people, he's a good pastor that everyone hates bc he's actually preaching what's in the book, and not hateful propaganda. He and Willy are NOT on good terms, but put their views aside to get their jobs done.

They get along better after the ritual, but Willy sometimes teases him over getting hurt while trying to pray like he used to-

His real name was Roger Neil.

[drafthorsemath]

Author Self Promotion?

Rule: post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to Ao3. If you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics. Thanks for the tag @ct-9902

So, I’m breaking the rules and only including my more current fic.  The stuff from eight years ago... it doesn’t count.

Note: The first one is explicit in parts, but the others are suitable for everyone

1. A Different Kind of Family

“Tech, are you sure this is where we’re supposed to be,” Hunter asked warily as they landed on Arbra.

“I followed Rex’s directions precisely,” Tech replied. “This planet is inhabitable, and the forest should at least give us good cover to try to hide.”

“Well how will we know where to find these people?” Echo asked. “We’re just supposed to land and they show up?”

“There is not much here,” replied Tech. “I imagine they will know what to look for. If no one comes, at least we found a place to rest.”

Stepping off the Havoc Marauder, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. They were hungry, low on water and other supplies, and the ship needed some repairs, but they landed.

“There should be an outpost of sorts in that direction,” Tech pointed, “but it is already late in the day. I’m also picking up a heat signature. Possibly shelter.”

“We’ll wait until tomorrow,” Hunter decided. “We don’t want to sti-”

They drew their weapons, knowing Hunter sensed something. Wrecker and Crosshair stepped between Omega and the direction Hunter was facing. Someone was out there. Hunter heard two sets of footsteps.

2. Hair Dye

“Omega! Time to eat,” Echo poked his head inside the ship trying to find his sister.

“Coming!” She put her sketch pad down next to her paints.  In a rush, she knocked over some bottles of paint, but left them once she saw they weren’t leaking.  She jumped down and headed outside where everyone was sitting around a fire.  

Tech handed her a plate. “Practicing your art again?”

She nodded.  “I’m working on getting more details right.”

“My favorite painting is the one you did of Lula and me,” Wrecker said with a grin.

She smiled.  Her art covered the walls of the ship.  Even the pieces she knew were not her best work were treasured by her brothers.  They always encouraged her.  “If you love something, you should keep at it as long as it makes you happy.”  Echo had told her that one day when she cried over a piece she tried so hard on, but just couldn’t get right in her own eyes.

3. Target Practice

Hunter’s eyes were open as soon as he heard the shot.

“I heard it too,” said Crosshair. The Marauder was open with Echo not far away, with no danger in sight. Hunter and Crosshair took a simultaneous deep breath, looked at each other, and stepped off the ship.

“Trouble sleeping?” Hunter asked, as Echo turned around.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Echo sighed. It started to snow heavily and although it was cold outside, he couldn’t calm his mind enough to sleep. “We all learned how to shoot with both hands, but, well, I’ve always been right-handed. Going straight for a blaster with my left still takes a moment to process. I don’t want to let anyone down.”

“Your aim seemed fine on Skako Minor,” replied Crosshair, brushing away some snowflakes that tried to land on his eyelashes.

Echo smiled slightly and replied, “I think most of that was adrenaline.” He took aim at a distant rock and hit it precisely.

4. Breakfast Revelations

"What are we having today?" Omega walked in and tossed her helmet in her room.

Echo finished whistling his tune in the kitchen before replying, "Pancakes, with bantha milk butter and Jogan fruit jam."

"I will just have two," said Tech. "My stomach is still not fully recovered from Wrecker's landing job."

"Hey! I got us here without crashing, didn't I?" Wrecker replied defensively.

"Well I don't care how many you eat as long as someone else washes the dishes," came Echo's reply. "First pancake's up. Omega first."

Hunter rushed in. "Guys! AZ has some vital information..."

AZ spun through the door with a "Greetings! I am AZ- 34521189..."

"WE KNOW!"

Okay, so I don’t know who to tag that hasn’t been tagged.  But if you want to participate please do so! I’m always looking for more to read.

[colorguardsweetheartblurrsgirl]

Totally did something I was not expecting.

Work on story: No

Work On Art: No

Had all the resources infront of me ready to get a few ar Peices done. 😏🥴😖😓😒😒😒 YES!!!

What did I do instead you may ask???

Open the Sheet music app and began retooling my song front two years ago that was originally the main theme for the first act. Or at least the first half of the first act. I took advice from friends and family that it just needed a little something more at the start and end. There was a good oomph as start made me think battle scene... but it needed something. I finally thought of the sound I wanted.

Found the Drum Rills I wanted (Though it took hours to find the exact one I litterlaly typed the exact words in the name and toik hours to find some reason and countless searches).

Found a bell sound I was totally like Yeha that could eb a fun opening..

Theb thought, eh I made the document. Might as well plop the opening down.

I have problem currently staying up all night zi guess.😓🤣😂😅😅😅

Yep, spent all night working on the song. I ahve to admit the guitar part so uh nds coll. The opening including open ik gn chorus. Sounds awesome. Maybe a few tweeks here and there. I restyled and also redid the notations and the octaves of tlntoss as well as their notation time signatures to fit with the new speed and design I'm going foe with the comic. And funny enough didnt even get the main theme in there this was all the themes that combine with it

Later parts are a but messy. But blhoenstly first minute sounds pretty cool, totally plants an image. So I hope it works out. Just have to retools thjnklgs Inliked about the old open in ng a but more before ri works. But after alls said and done what leads into the opening a piano followed by a guitar pick iij ng up thebebat a bit. Can say it sounds far better then the old music.

All the same cnat believe how much time I spent on it. But I got started on the new angle I'm going for. And it kinda gives a real atmosphere to it. Hopefully you guys will like it I've studied both college level and under music practically my whole life but I'll say 25 years practically since I was 5. So writtinflg music is soemthing I often do. I just havent really performed my lyrical stuff. I even have a lyrical song or a few I came up with for the comic. Although, I'm not sure they will fit with the comics main theme.

I will say thebprologues theme has been ready and done for 2 years now. And yeah I'm not changing that puppy. Its... well saying anything will give away a plot point. I'll just say it will get you're heart pumping... in a scary kinda way. Showed it to friends and family and they are like "Okay that was freaking creepy. That, you wrote that miss ray of sunshines?" I just knew what I wanted for teh prologue had a certain tone I wanted setting in. And it worked.

Well heres today's update for you. I'll probably post some pic later today. But till then take care. I'll see if I could post a snippet of the song later tod sass y or in the next few days. Probably will have to use one of my actual music programs to do that without saving and unfinished product.

... but till whatever update comes next.

Take care and have a blast.

(Ps. I knwo how to play the harp and paino. However, I dont own a harp anymore where I used to rent closed its doors long ago. And my piano is a keyboard I've had since 7 whose cord keeps absconding from me, so if your wondering I can play instruments I jsut have difficulty keeping track of them thus I use programs instead) I recently fo uh nd recordings I made at my families property two years ago on the old family piano, just me silently at night alone plucking out cords and slowly creating a song, and occassionally messing up... it was when I was first figuring out Lenna's theme. At the time trying to keep it more towards H.S. in theme and sound. This has since changed and I'm leaning more towards the other inspiration that shaped most of the characters since the start. So the sound has since changed. It used to have a country western sound to it.