#helped me to learn some stuff while copying it...

[doodlingwren]

It's 2024 can we please stop saying it's normal to trace or copying an entire drawing and pretending it's 100% your work? Just bc you changed the character or added clothes on a base you found on pinterest it doesn't mean you created original art

Edit: I need to specifying some things, or somebody might misinterpret this post in the future.

Tracing and copying are more than okay to use if you need to exercise or study stuff! Copying might be a bit better because you're actually training your eye and hand on how to make shapes and volumes. My best advice is, if you trace something, keep it for yourself and don't post it online (if you do, ask the original artist if they're okay with it)

Always use references, especially for anatomy stuff! It's not a cheat! Poses are complicated, and there are a lot of photographers posting pose packs FOR FREE TO USE! Or even artists drawing them :)

Remember to read the TERMS OF SERVICE when using a photo/ base you've found online: some people want credits, others are fine without them! But you have to check to know, and please be respectful

YCH (your character here) are NOT free to use bases; please know that. They are artwork from other artist showcasing a type of commission they are doing. And neither are WIPs

do NOT trust stuff you find on Pinterest. A great part of the artworks over there have been uploaded 1) without the artist consent and often 2) with a misleading use. Already happened to find other artist artworks or sketches being given out as "bases".

This post came from the fact some of the images used and traced were actually anatomy studies made by a very famous artist who requested for them not to be traced over (or if used like that, to give credits were it's due).

For the actual bases, they can be found on Twitter, and credits are required as well.

For that one traced artwork. It's actually a work in progress made by an artist, and I suppose it was uploaded on Pinterest, so some people might think of it as a base? Although it has on it "WIP" and the original artist name (if you've been drawing. You know exactly what those 2 things mean). The other things that bothered me it's while for the other there has been an attempt, this one it's traced 1 to 1. Didn't bother to change the character face at all. That's what makes me mad. Taking all the credits for something that you didn't do. That's just being lazy and not giving a fuck about art. Also they traced other artist's illustrations as well with their OCs so. I guess it's not just fandom art 😂

On a side note, this is something that I've seen happen quite a lot. And especially if you're doing commissions for a living, a trace accusation can destoy your carreer. Therefore, I won't tell this person a name or make a callout post. I did block them and moved on, and this was a vent post I had to do for myself.

[mechanical-nonsense]

It makes me a little sad that I'm going to be convicted forever by the hate blog my ex best friend made about me years ago now; to her, the drama ended with that blog, but to me, it's going to stay forever as long as it's around, because it's one of the first things anyone is going to see when they look me up; I'd be more accepting of it if it wasn't also loosely comprised of buzzwords (Biphobic and ablest are specifically strange to me because I'm bi and diagnosed with autism, and even back when I was aroace I never said anything about bisexuals? I never said anything about any kind of disability either, I was always very respectful about both of those things and have even considered myself bi before now too, when I was 11) and mildly sexualized assumptions that an adult made of posts I made when I was either 10 or 11 years old in the furby community, just trying to fit in with what other people were saying but not entirely having a grip on what they meant and sounding off, when I never meant to sound the way I did at all; like how "Fetishizing trans women" was a post where I angrily mocked my mom calling me cute or girly things because I was a trans guy and found it upsetting, "disabled furby fetish" was me trying to make a positivity post about helping disabled furbies to be inclusive like everyone else was being, one of the things happened to be me saying I'd help a furby who couldn't walk sit on the toilet because I heard around that people taking care of the elderly would do that, so I included it in my post to seem knowledgeable on real ways of helping, and that was it; I really really wish that even while I was an unhinged young teenager, people would have just gently asked before writing those ever-lasting posts, "Hey, did you mean bla-bla-bla when you said this, or did you mean something else?" and I would've answered honestly, I'm sure; I was a bit of a monstrosity the further back you go into history of how I acted on the internet but I was really, not all that terrible to talk to when there was no perceived threat from the person and asking me a rational question would've been easy, I never ever mean to hurt anybody, but now, that's all people are going to think of me; even in real life, because who wouldn't look up my social media in this digital era? 🙁

And it was mostly, if not entirely, consisting of behaviors and views I've grown out of since the 5+ years ago it happened; I have even been met with backlash in 2022 or 2023, for saying I'm sorry to someone I was mean to back then 😯 (I now think that was unnecessary from me, I was very tired that day) what do the people who've cancelled me want from me? I don't think they want me to apologize, or care that I've gotten so much better since then; I think maybe they just want to revel in that I am a complete recluse now socially, a coward; I cannot even say "Cool fursuit!" or "I like your artstyle!" without feeling like somehow, someone will come forward and be able to twist what I've said into something terrible and use it against me if they don't like me, because that's just how people can be online now; it's terrifying. My ex best friend has shunned me behind my back for being so scared, I remember being shown longer ago; but knowing the things that upset her, she would be absolutely broken if someone did to her, what she did to me online; because that shit can ruin careers, it could ruin my chance of ever making a friend again, even IRL because anyone can look me up online; imagine doing that to somebody who was at the time, not even old enough to drink.

I've been called vile, irredeemable, and anonymously told to kill myself once even; I was a 16 year old; a rather air-headed one too yet. Who would talk that way to a 16 year old who made it clear he was trying to improve and never meant to hurt anyone? Who knew he was in the wrong and was trying his hardest to fix it? For young readers rolling their eyes, how absurd that is will click when you're older and realize how inexperienced most people are at that age.

And that isn't keeping in mind how developmentally delayed I always have been too, which I state as a fact and not as an excuse; I don't let it ever stop me from improving myself either, but I feel like it's probably important that I mention that about myself here; I've always been considerably far behind people my age socially and often, intellectually; it was very visible at School especially where alot of the work I did was far behind everyone else's, and was alot slower than them too, and when I was younger I'd hardly get any work done at all even and was very difficult to deal with as a whole; Autism can be a very unflattering disability, it's not generally pure or wholesome, and it has influenced my bad or otherwise embarrassing behavior alot in the past; which I will still take responsibility for; because my illness isn't some seperate entity from me I'd use as an excuse, I just want it to be understood and recognized that I can't function as well as most other people in the head, I never could, and I genuinely just want that to be understood coming from someone who is seriously, detrimentally autistic to a point I had gotten diagnosed with it at a young age; my past outbursts and socially-inept behaviors helped by it gave the internet ridiculous shitshows to point at, and I'll never be able to take that away; what I can do is hope that I'll be atleast somewhat understood in the end, and left alone for how I was such a long time ago now

I've made a good effort to no longer be that way or act immature and freak out like I did long ago, and I can't stop persuing a social presence at such a young age, over the idea that strangers might not understand that about me.

I have no respect for people who think call-out and purity culture are okay and useful towards youth; this stuff was meant for use against megacorperations and rich celebrities that are getting boycotted for being generally harmful and/or gross on a huge scale that affects many innocent people, not stupid teenagers like I was, or even young adults. People learn, grow, and change; I spend and have spent every second of my life finding ways to grow and improve, and taking information in from people I look up to and admire to do so; and came far enough that I am 100% no longer the petty, angry, and immature person I was at the time, and that makes me very proud. I am no longer going to cower in my little corner, shivering at the thought of complimenting someone's 3D model or uploading a piece of music on YouTube; because people who told a scared and confused autistic kid to end his life and tried to take future careers, friendships, or even love away from him with things he's said and done years and years ago, do not deserve my compliance anymore

[sumiieon]

✦ Chiming Bell ノ MODERN! High school hcs with the Chrysos Heir because I love them so much ⸝⸝ gn reader ⸝⸝ wc: 1780 ✦ Note ; The usual grammar error and spelling mistakes warning ⸝⸝ if they come across as ooc then I apologize because I'm still not very confident in my ability of writing HSR characters haha ⸝⸝ This can be interpreted as both romantic and platonic as your liking! ⸝⸝ will probably edit out some mistakes ⸝⸝ I'm very sorry for not including Hyacine TT

♡ Phainon ⸝⸝ I feel like he's kind of a jock BUT also not a jock. Like, he's not THOSE jocks that get angry at you if you cannot catch the ball that is beaming at 1000 mph to your face. ⸝⸝ Those popular kids that are actually super nice to everyone. I feel like he doesn't judge people much and if he does dislike someone, will not rub it in their face unless they deserve to. ⸝⸝ Basically just a ray of sunshine. Definitely has Mydei as his seatmate and I just imagine Phainon walking into class greeting everyone every morning and then Mydei is just sitting there massaging his temple, wondering how he's so bright this early. ⸝⸝ While he's generally super nice, I think Phainon is also pretty mischievous though. I can already imagine him getting into some light troubles and then having to sweep the hallway as a punishment LMAO. ⸝⸝ Probably enjoys learning history and literature, he just gets super sleepy and perhaps bored in them. Decent at math but HORRIBLE at science like chemistry. Phainon comes up to Mydei as lab partner and Mydei prays the two of them don't get involved in any sorts of explosion or chemical accident /j ⸝⸝ When Phainon is pinning on you, he will 100% turn into a golden retriever. Follows you around in a non-creepy way, helps you carry stuff, probably tries tutoring you the best he could, sometimes ask to have lunch together and then drags you to the rest of his friends. ⸝⸝ Gets super shy about it and it didn't escape his friends. Also gets not bullied but teased a lot for it, when you walked past them far enough, I feel like most likely Mydei would go "holy shit is that Phainon's lover walking past by just now?!" ⸝⸝ When he announced that the two of you are dating to his friends, they would hold their pearl necklace and pretend like they're shocked (except it's so purposefully exaggerated it's hilarious wow Phainon you're so slick!) ♡ Aglaea ⸝⸝ I hc'd that the Chrysos Heir is basically akin to the Student Council in the modern world, so expect no less that Aglaea is definitely the president or at the VERY least the vice president. ⸝⸝ That one strict classmate who always looks her best and behaves the best too. Probably a class president or rep too?? Would reprimand her classmates or the other students to mind both their attire and attitude. ⸝⸝ Teacher's pet, except she's one that you can't really walk over or trample. Girl just has that aura in her for not only being smart but also beautiful?!?! (My GOAT Aglaea as always) ⸝⸝ Looks scary at first glance, but if you need her help with studying she would help say no more! That one meme that goes like "would you let me copy your homework?" "no, but I'll help you with it" ⸝⸝ This may sound pretty personal and specific but hc that she excels and enjoys public speaking. Her words and articulations are probably amazing if you get what I mean... ⸝⸝ Honestly, if she is pinning on you? Nobody would pretty much find out about it unless she personally said so. I'm sorry but Aglaea strikes off to me as the type to be super good at hiding aka slick with her feelings for someone. (Ironically for being the bearer of Mnestia's coreflame in lore lol) ⸝⸝ So when she told her friends that you two are dating, their surprise is actually real and pure. ⸝⸝ It's still noticeable though subtle tho! Aglaea will be extra mindful of you and will no doubt worry about your grades and your performance. Would help you study even if it takes time say less! ♡ Mydei

⸝⸝ Similarly to Phainon, seems like a jock but isn't too much of a jock once you get to know about him. I think it's pretty much just a first impression since he's physically well built and healthy. For someone with his looks, Mydei is a pretty quiet and calm seatmate, ones targeted by people who is just full on comical nonsense (Trailblazer for instance…. They're so stupid I love them).

⸝⸝ Seemingly messy appearance (that slightly loose collar and messily tied tie fix that rn Mydei i hate hastily tied tie and sometimes spends 5 minutes redoing it if I couldn't get it right sobs), but is actually very discipline and a pretty decent student. Also hc that he uses reading glasses.

⸝⸝ Bluddy is probably the first to arrive at class and is usually pretty punctual with a few exceptions being made. Definitely that one friend who sleeps early and wakes up early. Probably lets you copy his homework just so you can get off his ass.

⸝⸝ Excels at history, terrible at math, probably decent at chemistry??? Hear me out though, he's terrible at math and physics but he's interested in them so it's kind of a party pooper LAMFAO (self projecting). Mydei doesn't hate it, he probably just doesn't understand it.

⸝⸝ Those type of guys that people are scared of because of his appearance, but is actually good with juniors. He helps them with studying and getting the subject's concept wrapped around their head and somehow patient for a man that doesn't look like he has patience at all.

⸝⸝ When Mydei pins on you, he won't look nor act THAT much different around you. If you're a much more comical or hilarious kind of person, he endures and tolerates you more. He will offer more lending hands though; for instance, explaining things you don't understand more, willingly tutors you, sneaks gifts into your desk or locker and then softly denies it when questioned (you're not slick bro.)

⸝⸝ Mydei doesn't announce it if you two are dating, rather, his friends found out on their own by the slight flush on his face when he's around you and the way his fierce eyes seemed to simmer down a little when you're around.

♡ Castorice

⸝⸝ SUPER quiet and probably finds it hard to communicate all the time. The reason people know her is mostly because she's apart of the Student Council, but that aside, she's also super kind and nice!

⸝⸝ Hangs around Aglaea a lot and acts as her 'assistant' or similar. Also a teacher's pet except on the more mellow side and one that even the meanest of the mean doesn't have the heart to mock.

⸝⸝ She probably could be vice president.. But that's just a rough gut and because I see her as one. Also reprimands her classmates and other students to be mindful of their attire and attitude.

⸝⸝ Generally good at any subjects given, but I hc that Castorice really likes art and music classes. The atmosphere is quieter and much more peaceful that even her mind could rest a little. Definitely joins clubs like sewing club.

⸝⸝ Sometimes sleeps on recess because I see her as those super-tired looking type of people who can doze off while standing but refrains on doing so in classes. Due to this, probably picks the seat closer to the window to hide away from the lights at the center of the class.

⸝⸝ When Castorice pins on you, she will subtly get super shy around you. Sometimes stutters on her speech and is extra polite at you much to the awkwardness. Be prepared for cuteness overload!!

⸝⸝ Castorice definitely makes things for you! A small crochet plush, flower crowns, or some fake flowers that reminds her of you. Surfs into flower language to express her affection to you by making said flowers for you!

⸝⸝ Castorice would reluctantly yet shyly declares her love for you one random evening, and the rest of the Chyrsos Heir is totally NOT spying at you two from behind some bushes. ♡ Anaxa

⸝⸝ This man is canonically a professor according to the in-game lore what else do I need to say??

⸝⸝ That one smart kid who's super snarky and sarcastic. If you think Mydei is pretty sarcastic for someone, then behold Anaxagoras and his sharp yet elegant tongue that totally does not remind me of a certain doctor.

⸝⸝ He definitely no doubt enjoys subjects science related. Chemistry, physics, biology, name it. Yet nobody really dares to approach him and ask him to be their lab partner due to, again, the aura that surrounds him. You feel like you're shrinking per second you stand next to him if you don't know anything about him. Also hc that he enjoys scientific debates.

⸝⸝ He probably goes overseas to attend science olympics like a lot, and obviously comes back with victory by his side. He's probably academic rivals with Aglaea haha. I can just see them competing for the school's 1st place.

⸝⸝ Anaxa gets avoided by plenty people because of his personality, but he doesn't pay any mind nor does he care about it. After all, his only interest currently is knowledge, isn't it..?

⸝⸝ Well that's until you, who doesn't seem to be that much avoidant of him, came along to his life. Anaxa is that one person that goes deep into denial when he has feelings for someone. "NO. WDYM I HAVE FEELINGS FOR THEM. FUCK."

⸝⸝ The rest of the Chrysos Heir found out about this when one random day, Anaxa suddenly came up to Hyacine and started asking her questions related to feelings that are leaning a little bit tooooo much on the romantic side (much to his dismay and denial). Even with his denial, he found himself coming up to the pink haired girl and asking her about this… Very foreign feeling of what she described as "butterflies fluttering in his stomach" and a suspiciously big grin on her face.

⸝⸝ Like Phainon, Anaxa doesn't escape the constant teasing from the Chrysos Heir for this, mainly Aglaea. She will devilishly giggle into her fingertips and make subtle jabs at him when she talks to you; "[name], do you have just any idea how breathtaking you are?" while giving Anaxa looks to which he responded with not only a glare but a suspiciously burning pair of ear tips <3

© fleuriion ― please refrain from ; plagiarizing, ai usage, repost without credits ― positive interactions are always welcome!

[gremlin-girly]

Double Crochet

Bob Reynolds x gn!reader

Not beta'd and I don't give permission for my work to be reposted, copied, translated or put through an AI machine.

Tags/warnings: just fluff, cuddling, mentions of a first kiss

Summary: After bumping into you at the store, you teach Bob how to crochet.

word count: 1.3k

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

Bob Reynolds Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Pick Your Fic

Double knit. Chenille. Alpine.

Wool. Wool. Wool.

Too many choices, too many projects, too little time. You're stood staring at the wall of Wool trying to remember what you actually went to the store for. Was it wool? Probably not. You already had too much in your room at the tower that you were surprised you didn't have wool coming out of your ears. What started as an innocent hobby had become your hoard - a dragon's next of fluffy comfort you had yet to spin into something worthwhile.

How many granny squares did you need for a jumper? What about that pattern you started two months ago?

You grimace to yourself. No. You didn't need more.

...but then again.

Your fingers brush the baby-soft chenille thoughtfully. Something could be made from this. Easily. It's a beige - easily manipulated into an animal of some kind. Probably. Or there's an electric blue that could be a potential... thing.

"Hey, Y/N."

You almost launch the ball of wool you're holding at Bob out of fright. He had a nasty habit of appearing out of thin air, and you weren't sure if it was a by-product of the shadowy Void or his quiet mouse-like nature.

Mouse.

"Hey, Bob." You try to sound cheery but your brain is busy trying to remember if you have any patterns for mice plushies. "Wasn't expecting to bump into you here."

"I just wanted some snacks." He jingles his crisps in his hands and eyes the wool your cradling curiously. "You knit?"

"Oh, uh, no I crochet." You wiggle the wool between your hands. "I was meant to come in here for something else and got distracted."

"You crochet? That's so cool!" Bob's face lights up with the sweetest, infectious smile that has you melting to the floor like ice cream on a hot day. "What do you make? Could... Could you... show... me?"

His voice tapers with his usual shy, self-consciousness and you can't find it in your heart to tell him no.

"I don't have any pictures of my recent stuff." You half admit, not wanting to give away the fact you haven't picked up a hook in months. "But when we get back to the tower I can show you?"

"Sure!"

Having Bob look upon your creations felt strangely intimate. He handled each one like it was made of glass, cooing and gushing over your plushies and patterns on granny squares.

"They're so cute. How do you do it?" He looks impressed and intrigued behind his smile; it's genuine interest in your hobby and it makes you giddy.

"Um, well you can find patterns and tutorials online." You say, digging your toes into your rug and twisting your ankle shyly. You were a hair's breadth away from blushing and twirling your hair like a cartoon bunny.

"Could you teach me?" His blue eyes are irritatingly round sweet and you find yourself struggling to say no. You don't even want to think about the kicked-puppy look he would shoot you with if you turned him down.

Thus, you were resigned to nod your head and gulp out a: "Sure."

Bob is surprisingly quick to learn the basics. You sit close to him and run through basic stitches, demonstrating them and praising him when it finally clicks for him. It was worth every moment spent to see his tongue poke out in concentration when he follows your instructions and his face light up with joy when he successfully completed a stitch. Over the course of two days, you're practically joined at the hip, chatting and crocheting side by side but when a new mission demands a few days of your time you offer Bob free reign of your wool stash.

You help him pick out some patterns from your archive to help him practice and keep him busy while you're away and urge him to keep you updated on his progress and to ask any questions he might have. Not that any come - Bob almost ignores all of your texts and you can't help but feel a little affronted; like you'd done something wrong somehow.

Downtime during your mission is spent crocheting your plushie mouse. You'd decided when you started teaching Bob to crochet you would make it for him as a gift, doubly so now that you thought you'd upset him somehow.

The final touches were done minutes before the quinjet touched down on the roof and you were already speeding off and ignoring Bucky's summons for a debrief so you could find Bob, give him your gift and apologise for upsetting him somehow.

Entering through the doors and turning your first corner, you slam right into Bob, making your search rather short.

"Bob!"

"Y/N!"

You both go quiet, smiling sheepishly, and you see he's got his arms behind his back. You hold up your mouse plushie, feeling your cheeks grow warm and you can't quite meet his eyes.

"I made this for you. I'm sorry if I upset you recently, what ever I did I-"

"You didn't upset me!" He cuts you off, pulling a plushie of his own from behind his back. It's a little wonky, the eyes don't match up and there's a few holes from missed stitches but...

It's the cutest damn bunny you've ever seen.

"I was just focused on making you this... abomination." He chuckles slightly, holding the bunny in his hands like it's a cursed object and your heart has a pitter patter to rival an excited heavy metal drummer.

"I love him!" You squeal, making Bob look up.

"Really?"

"Yes!" You hold out your mouse to swap him for the bunny and Bob takes it with a grin, running his fingers over the soft wool.

"I'm going to call him Fred." You announce, holding the bunny comically high over your head like he was Simba.

"Fred?" Bob's nose scrunches in disbelief despite his smiling. "What should I call mine?"

"You can rename yours, if you want... I've been calling him Bob Junior for a while." You smile sheepishly as Bob blinks at you.

"Junior? After me?"

"Duh after you." You roll your eyes playfully but you chest feels tighter than before. "I was making him for you and it just kinda stuck."

Bob's cheeks are bright red now, and he brings the gift you made closer to his chest. "No that's... No, I like it too."

Later that night (after Bucky finally caught you and dragged you back for a debrief) whilst watching a movie in your room, you and Bob placed your double-crochet creations next to eachother on the bedside table.

"They look perfect together." You say cosying up under your comforter. Bob nods but says nothing so you continue unperturbed. "They look like they're holding hands too!"

You're pulled back suddenly into a firm chest and let out a small squeak. Bob immediately apologises when you look up and looks like he's about to combust on the spot.

"Sorry! I - erm..." He gives you a sheepish look. "They look like they're cuddling and I thought that we..."

He swallows thickly and his eyes flit around your room nervously. That pitter patter in your heart returns and you smile, sidling up closer to him instead. Bob stiffens then relaxes, letting his arm drape around you - even if he is still shaking like a chihuahua.

"If you wanted life to imitate art, you should have just said so." You tease softly, laying your head on the space inbetween his neck and shoulder.

That night marks the beginning of many more in his arms, sometimes crocheting, sometimes watching a movie, always chatting. What you and Bob have builds slowly, and whilst you ruin your first kiss by covering the eyes of your plushies, he doesn't seem to care. Your love took practice and even though it may be a little misshapen like Fred, it was still beautiful.

End

A/N: if you haven't seen this post, @buckyys-babydoll and I are trying to boost engagement across fics in the writing community. If you liked this fic, please reblog - you dont have to leave a comment. You can leave a reaction image, gif or emoji(s)!

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Love ya! 🫶🏻

Taglist - add yourself here

@looking1016 @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @almostglitterybear @blackhawkfanatic @peaches1958 @purplefluffycows @ryubyy @steviebbboi @leeemabean @brianochka

[eclipsedechoesofmywords]

Could you write something where Joaquin Torres tells reader that he’s falling in love with her after a date and she doesn’t believe him or is self-conscious (fluff and angst)? 🥰

"Coffee And Doubt"

[Joaquin Torres x fem!reader]

Masterlist

Summary: Joaquin says something difficult to accept...

Warnings: Light angst, self-esteem issues, fluff

Word Count: 853 words

A/N: First Joaquin fic!🥳

You spilled an iced latte on him the first time you met.

It was your third shift at the Brooklyn café, and Joaquin had been leaning against the counter, all easy smiles and worn leather jackets, asking about the "weirdest drink on the menu." You'd fumbled the cup while explaining the Cinnamon Smoke Bomb, a monstrosity of espresso, cayenne, and caramel, and watched in horror as it soaked his sleeve. Instead of scowling, he'd laughed, and said, "Guess I'll have to come back tomorrow so you can redeem yourself."

True to his word, he did. And the next day. And the day after that, always lingering to ask about your favourite books, hobbies, the parts of your life you didn't think anyone cared to notice. By the time he finally asked you out, you'd memorized his order (black coffee, two sugars, and a secretly smuggled chocolate croissant 'for luck'), and he'd memorized the way your eyes lit up when you talked about your interests.

He saw you—really saw you—long before you let yourself believe it.

It was your fifth date when he said those words.

You were having lunch at the Ivy, a diner near your work. It was a nice, casual, and cosy place, one you and Joaquin had quickly taken to. You had had your first date here too, and Joaquin had insisted on bringing you here again after one of his missions. You knew about his work, he had told you pretty early on(he said it was because he didn't want to 'deceive' you, but you had a feeling his pride in his title as the new Falcon also had a part in it).

Joaquin sat across from you, his thumb tracing the rim of his coffee mug, a habit he'd picked up after missions when his hands needed something steady to hold. You'd learned that about him. Just like he'd learned you hummed when nervous.

"You're staring," you said, nudging his boot under the table.

"Am I?" He grinned, unapologetic, the diner's neon glow softening the edges of his face. "Can't help it. You've got…" He gestured vaguely at your cheek. "Syrup. Right there."

You swiped at your face, flushing. "Liar. I didn't even order pancakes."

"Your loss." He leaned back, all lazy confidence, but his knee bounced faintly—a tell. You'd come to recognize those too.

The waitress refilled your waters, and Joaquin waited until she left before clearing his throat. "So. I've been thinking…"

Your stomach dropped. Here it comes. The 'let's just be friends' speech. The 'work is too hectic' excuse. You'd rehearsed for this moment since date three when he'd shown up with an annotated copy of a book you mentioned loving. No one did that. No one remembered.

"—falling for you," he said.

You blinked. "What?"

He huffed a laugh, rubbing his neck. "Yeah. Uh. Hard. Which is… terrifying, honestly. But also kind of amazing?" His voice softened, earnest in a way that made your ribs ache. "You're… different. In the best way. You just… see me. And I—"

"Stop." The word came out sharper than you'd meant.

He froze. "What's wrong?"

"Don't," You gripped your napkin, shredding the edges. "Don't do that. You don't have to say stuff just because you think I want to hear it."

His brow furrowed. "You think I'm lying?"

"No, I—" You laughed, brittle. "C'mon, Joaquin. Look at you. You're… you. And I'm… some girl who works at a café and reads too much. You'll get bored. Or realize I'm not… enough."

The words hung there, raw and too honest. You braced for him to sigh, to agree, to walk away.

Instead, he reached across the table, his calloused fingers brushing yours. "You really don't get it, do you?" His voice was quiet, fierce. "That time you ranted about Pride and Prejudice for twenty minutes? I've never wanted to kiss someone more. Or when you helped that old lady carry her groceries in the rain—in your work apron—and came back soaked, grinning like you'd won the lottery? I live for that smile. And last week, when I came back from D.C. and you didn't ask about the mission, just… made me soup because I sounded tired on the phone?" He shook his head, wonder in his eyes. "That's why. Not in spite of who you are. Because of it."

Your throat tightened. "But… your life is so big. And I'm… small."

"You're not small." He squeezed your hand. "You're home."

The diner's noise faded. For a heartbeat, you let yourself believe him—let his words wrap around the bruised parts of you like a bandage. Then doubt crept back in. "What if you change your mind?"

He smirked, that infuriating, beautiful smirk. "Guess you'll have to stick around to find out."

You didn't say it back. Not yet. But when he walked you home, his jacket slung over your shoulders against the chill, you let him kiss you—slow, sweet, and tasting of cinnamon—and decided, maybe, home wasn't such a bad thing to be.

[missrosiesworld]

The Proxy is Crushing?

Here are some cute headcanons for Wise when he has a crush:

Nervous and Fidgety: Wise tends to become visibly nervous around his crush. His usually calm demeanor becomes more anxious, often shifting his weight from one foot to the other or playing with his hands.

Crush: "Do you have any good documentary recommendations? I’ve been wanting to learn more about ancient civilizations."

Wise, fidgeting with a VHS tape and shifting his weight: "Oh, um, yes! There’s this amazing documentary about the history of Mesopotamia. It's really detailed and fascinating. I, uh, could lend you a copy if you'd like?"

Thoughtful Gestures: Wise pays close attention to the little details about his crush, often remembering their favorite things and surprising them with thoughtful actions. 

Wise, handing a fresh cup of coffee: "Here, I thought you might need this."

Crush, pleasantly surprised as they smell the coffee: "You remembered my favorite coffee blend?"

Wise, smiling shyly: "Yeah, I thought you might need a pick-me-up. I remembered you mentioned it last week."

Blushing: Despite his typically composed nature, Wise can’t help but blush when his crush compliments him or gets too close. 

Wise is organizing some VHS tapes on a shelf, focused on his task. He’s been chatting with his crush about the latest movie releases. 

Crush, smiling warmly: "You look really nice today."

Wise, momentarily stunned and turning to face them, cheeks flushing: "Oh, uh, thanks! You... you look great too."

Overthinking: Wise often overanalyzes his interactions with his crush, replaying conversations in his mind and wondering what they meant by certain comments. He can get caught in a loop of second-guessing himself.

Crush gives Wise a compliment.

Crush: "You always have the best ideas!"

Later, Wise confides in Belle: "Do you think they meant that? Or were they just being nice? Maybe I read too much into it..."

Subtle Compliments: He praises his crush's intelligence, sense of humor, or unique qualities, always in a subtle, genuine way.

Crush: "I'm not sure if I can pull this off."

Wise, sincerely: "You always surprise me with how capable you are. I believe in you."

Protective Streak: Wise becomes more protective of his crush, always looking out for their safety and well-being.

Crush: "I'm thinking of going into the Hollow alone."

Wise, concerned: "Alone? No way. It's too dangerous. Let me come with you."

Daydreaming: Wise often finds himself daydreaming about spending time with his crush. He imagines different scenarios, from fun outings to quiet, intimate moments.

Wise is sitting at the counter, staring out the window with a distant look in his eyes. He’s imagining a cozy afternoon at home, snuggled up on the bed with his crush. They’re wrapped in a warm blanket, watching a movie together, with his crush resting their head on his chest.

Belle, waving a hand in front of his face: "Hello, Earth to Wise!"

Wise, snapping out of it and shaking his head slightly: "Oh, sorry! Just...thinking about something."

Nervous Laughter: Wise tends to laugh nervously when he's flustered, trying to cover up his feelings with humor.

Crush, noticing Wise's slightly tense posture: "You seem nervous. Everything okay?"

Wise, laughing nervously while rubbing the back of his neck: "Me? Nervous? Nah, just, uh, excited, I guess."

Crush, raising an eyebrow playfully: "Excited, huh? About what?"

Wise, still chuckling awkwardly as his cheeks flush: "Oh, you know... just the usual stuff. Nothing major."

Confiding in Belle: He secretly confides in Belle about his feelings, seeking advice but often regretting it when she teases him.

Wise talks to Belle about his crush.

Wise: "I can't stop thinking about them. What if they don't feel the same?"

Belle, teasing: "You? Overthinking? Never. Just be yourself, Wise. They already seem to like you."

Subtle Flirting: Wise tries to flirt subtly, using clever wordplay and teasing remarks, hoping to gauge his crush's reaction.

Crush, looking around the carefully set-up room: "Did you really plan all this?"

Wise, with a soft smile and a hint of teasing in his voice: "Maybe. I had to impress you somehow, right?"

Crush, smiling warmly: "Oh, I'm definitely impressed. I didn't know you had such a sweet side."

Wise, chuckling gently: "Well, I guess you bring out the best in me." He looks at them with genuine affection, his eyes warm. "Besides, I think you're worth the effort."

[tgcg]

ms paint. you know her. u used her age 8 to make loads of rainbow ovals all over the canvas and then scramble it with selection tool. now u will know her true powers with my handyrandy tips under the readmore. some will be pretty basic and others are very special.

this post has 8 cool trix to learn for you. enjoy and i may do another in the future if i remember/learn more stuff

some of it might be common knowledge. but its got some deep cuts. all tips have gifs to show process easily.

🙂 enjoy and i hope this encourages you to fuck around in mspaint more

soundtrack for this post (loop it while you learn for advanced learning experience)

TIP 1) the right click trick

left and right mouse click correspond to col1 and col2 respectively, which u can see in the top bar. this applies to all brushes and the fill tool like above. when using shapes col2 will be the fill colour (if you have solid fill selected). right clicking with shape maker will reverse the colours use on the shape.

TIP 2) right click eraser

this one is extremely helpful for lineart or add shading. the eraser always uses col2. so your eraser can technically be any colour. but here's where you get powers: right clicking with eraser will only erase onto col1, with col2.

TIP 3) transparent selection change a guy destination

the beloved transparent selection tool works based on what is selected as col2. so long as you have the correct colour as col2 you can make any image transparent and put it on top of anything else. and yes this works with photo bg as you can see.

TIP 4) the gradience

this one is a little more complex. you want to start off with any canvas size, and make as many diagonal coloured bands as you want. (protip: holding down shift makes a perfectly diagonal line with line tool)

then you need to resize the canvas to a width of 1px (make sure you resize by pixels, and do not maintain aspect ratio). then resize again back to its original width (or a different width i cant stop you). you will have your lovely gradience.

TIP 5) superimposter

so. you got a cool gradient and wanna put a guy on it. heres what i do:

i open a 2nd mspaint with same canvas size and draw whatever i want on there. i then pick a completely unrelated colour to my entire piece, and set that as the bg. you could use white, pink, geen, whatever you want as long as it doesnt appear somewhere else in ur drawing. copy the guy.

go back to your gradient tab. ensure that col2 is set as that bg colour you picked (lilac for me). have "transparent selection" enabled. paste your guy in. cue fanfare

TIP 6) advanced superimposter

the great thing about this method is u can put multiple gradients in multiple areas of the image. this is where it gets all japanese printmaking type of shit. ukiyo-esque

all you need to do is make another canvas with a new gradient, ensure col2 is set as the colour you want to replace, then paste your original piece onto the new gradient. now my guy has a soft fade. you can do this as much as you want. (you could even make a canvas with a texture or photo and paste your drawing onto there)

TIP 7) "sketch layer"

so as you now know, col2 is what is removed when you click "transparent selection". which means you can also remove any instance of a colour from ur drawing. which means you can have a unique colour for sketch layer and remove it from the drawing later. i admittedly dont do this but it is a great trick to have.

now combine this with lowering your dpi for smoother lines. may seem obvious but it helps. its like a free stabiliser whenever u want.

TIP 8) rainbow art

now this is where you can get dizzee rascal "bonkers". check out my small and shitty rainbow trick. you can select anything and hold down shift, then drag with left mouse, to turn that selection into its own brush. i even did it with a guy. and you can of course do this with a photo as well.

🙂well that it for now. hope you liked it thanks for reading now back to your regularly scheduled tgcg programming

[abby-howard]

I'm going to be asking a lot of artists I follow this question, but how did you develop your style? It SEEMS like most people find their style and stick with it forever, just making improvements and iterations. I tend to work in a lot of different styles because I enjoy doing that, though I know there are things I gravitate towards as well. But I wonder what your journey was and how you got feedback and improved while staying true to what you enjoyed?

Hi there!

I definitely wouldn't say that I've found my style and stuck with it forever-- I feel like each of my projects has asked for a certain kind of art, and has presented new challenges that push me in new directions.

Some of that comes from seeing someone else's work and having something click into place that might fix errors/faults in my own, and then I might try to incorporate that, such as bigger outlines on my characters to help distinguish them from the background, or maybe a way someone else simplifies eyes that can help make mine look less weird.

When I first started drawing, I can see where I encountered certain influences because my sketchbooks suddenly switch to incorporating some new stylistic element that I liked from whatever I was reading/watching at the time. But it was never QUITE right, it was never just copying, there was always something ~wrong~ with it. And that wrongness was my style! As much as I hated it, that was what distinguished my art from being just a copy of someone else's. I hate it less now, and understand that other people see something there that maybe I don't, because it's just what happens when I filter other people's work through my head. My soul, if you will.

There are definitely through-lines with my work, driven by what I like drawing and what comes easily to me-- hatching is almost always a major component, and I like making expressive characters. Here's some of my earliest available stuff, from my old webcomic:

Then not long after that, I started The Last Halloween, which pushed me to challenge myself in both layout and style:

And here's the same comic, years later:

And here's a series I did for kids, where I had to use full color and lay off on the hatching, as well as learn how to reconstruct animals that we have no photo references for, which is definitely a place where style comes majorly into play, whether I wanted it to or not:

Then there was the horror book I did, where I tried to push my work to be less cartoony overall, and to work very hard on improving my hatching:

Then I started work on Scarlet Hollow, where I incorporated a limited/muted palette and had to once again push myself to make less-cartoony art, as well as learn more consistency so I could draw sprite sets. This was a big challenge for me, and has helped me grow as an artist so much!

And most recently, I wrapped up work on Slay the Princess, which required that I go back in the cartoony direction, but in a very different way than I was used to. This took a lot of sketching to figure out, and there's still a decent amount of artistic stumbling in Chapter 1 while I settled into it.

She's drawing on anime/Disney influence, but each Princess required a bit of stylistic variability. Some are more anime, while some are more realistic than even the Scarlet Hollow characters.

So I wouldn't worry too much, honestly! A person's style is often something that reveals itself over the course of their career, rather than something they choose and then try to stick to forever.

Even if you don't think you have a style, you do. It might vary a lot piece by piece, especially if you're trying to closely imitate another person's art, but the more work you do, the more you'll figure out your own strengths and interests!

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Forty

“I’m not sure about this,” Eddie says quietly.

“It’ll be fine, and you need to learn, it’s been over a year, what if you fall in the pool?”

“I’m not gonna’,” Eddie tells him stubbornly.

“You can’t know that. We have to keep you safe.” It’s mid afternoon on a weekday, so the place is pretty deserted. Steve looks around the changing room real quick, but it’s definitely empty. He pulls Eddie close by the hem of his shirt, kissing him softly on the lips, “you’re going to do fine.” Eddie had spent the first six months of last year concentrating on basic motor function and gaining weight, not to mention getting a pretty good grasp on a whole language, learning to drive, learning to play guitar, plus all the other stuff he’s gotten up to. And then suddenly he had a job and Eddie made friends with Chrissy, there was all that stuff with Owens, and before Steve really knew it, it was too cold again to use their pool.

Eddie really needed to learn how to swim without a tail.

Eddie follows Steve out of the changing rooms and to the edge of the pool, “ow ow ow,” he picks his way carefully along the tile.

“They’re not that bad,” the anti slip ridges in the tile feel a little weird, but not painful. Eddie just glares at him.

“No one else has a shirt on,” he whispers when he finally makes it to Steve, but he needs to wear it because of the no nipples and no belly button thing.

There’s like two other people in the pool, both older guys swimming laps, “no one cares babe,” Steve whispers, before sitting on the edge and slipping in, the water only coming up as far as his middle. “In you get.”

“This is stupid,” Eddie says as he copies Steve, following him into the water, his trunks ballooning a little with air and the material of his shirt darkening and clinging to his skin.

“Everyone should know how to swim,” Steve tells him for about the fiftieth time.

“Legs are stupid,” Eddie grumbles.

Steve squats down, bringing the water to chin level, “okay come on we’re going to stay right here, now float.”

Eddie does, flopping over, Steve’s hand under his middle to steady him and stop him from sinking if he panics, “good now...kick with your stupid legs.”

“I’m so tired,” Eddie sits curled up on the bench in the changing room while Steve gets dressed.

“You did good though,” and Steve is now confident that Eddie won't actually drown if he falls in some water.

Eddie breathes out a long sigh, “I’m so slow now.”

“Yeap, just a regular human guy. How awful for you.” Eddie manages to muster a scowl, “go in the cubicle and get dressed, come on.”

Eddie huffs, but he goes.

Steve’s finger tips leave trails of glittering veils through the air. There’s a sound, far off and diffuse, water, like the steady swish of waves. The air is sparkly, the light soft, and every breath fills his lungs so fully and wonderfully he can’t help but feel it.

“Stevie.”

It comes from far away, and Steve’s more aware of it than he’d like to be, really. He kind of wants to stay here.

“Stevie, come on, I gotta go.”

Steve grumbles, the dream falling away as he nuzzles into the pillow. He cracks one eye open, the shape of Eddie hovering over him in the dark room.

“You’re so cute when you just wake up. Your face is all folded up, like an empty chip packet.”

Steve grunts, “s’early.”

“I know, we have to deliver the bouquet and stuff, and then decorate the church. I wanted to say goodbye before I went. Chris will be here in a minute.”

Steve grumbles, “okay. Love you.”

“I love you, too” and then Eddie is covering Steve’s face with smacking kisses while he tries to escape back beneath the covers.

Eddie bounds off the bed and shouts, “winning!” as he clomps down the stairs.

Steve goes back to sleep.

Steve has his elbows resting on the counter, watching listlessly.

“Stop leaving the sink full of water,” Robin bitches from the bathroom doorway.

“It wasn’t me,” Steve mumbles his protest, not having the energy to fight it.

“Uh hu, it’s one of the many other employees we have here today,” she finishes drying her hands with the paper towel, throwing it in the trash before she lets the door swing shut behind her.

Steve sighs, watching the empty car lot through the glass doors. Robin rolls past on the office chair, then pushes off against the opposite wall and rolls back again, “what’s up with you?”

Steve sighs again, “you ever wonder where...like. Where you’re going? Do you ever think that it might just be this, but forever.”

“I retract my question, go have your midlife crisis some place else.”

Steve bumps his head against the counter, “if this is my midlife I’m dead before I hit forty five, thanks Robs.”

“Is it the crushing and inevitable knowledge that you’re in a dead end job but all the kids are definitely going to go to college when they graduate?”

“Ooof. Nope. Too much, back it up a bit.”

“Okay, how about you still live with your parents?”

“Still quite close to the bone there Robs, thanks, and I don’t live with my parents-”

“Objection. Technicality.”

“...because they aren’t there,” Steve finishes weakly.

“Uh hu.”

“And you, also, live with your parents, I cant help but note.”

She shrugs, “yeah, but not for long. Wait,” she shuffles closer, pulling the chair along, looking up at Steve, being serious for once, “is this because I’m going to college? Because it’s not for a few months yet, and it’s not too far away! We can still see each other on weekends, you can visit-”

Steve sighs, turning away, “No. Yes. Maybe. I don’t know I just...everyone has direction. Even Eddie with his GED. He’s doing something, you know? Him and Chrissy are growing her business, she has this whole five year plan thing.”

“Yeah, she’s told me about it...in detail...there’s a color coded diagram. But how is that going? The studying thing?”

“Well, he’s only really been working through the books for a couple of weeks, Nancy helped him apply for a couple of evening classes, did I tell you?” Robin shakes her head, “yeah, Math and English, classes start soon, just a couple of nights a week for a semester.”

“That’s so good!”

“Yeah,” Steve feels himself soften, talking about Eddie, “it’s really good. Nancy and all the kids said they’ll help him study.”

“But you don’t have a thing? And you want one?”

“I don’t know I just...feel like I should be aiming higher than Family Video. But I don’t...I really don’t want to go back to school or do college or anything like that, it was never my strong suit, you know?”

Robin gets up to ferret under the desk, pulling out a newspaper, “well then, lets look.”

They have three adds circled when Eddie calls, Steve gets part way through the Family Video spiel when Eddie interrupts him, “Stevie? Can I use the car tonight?”

Steve flicks through his internal calendar a second, “I promised I’d take the kids to the arcade, what do you need it for?”

“I was at the place, you know, centerpieces for the reception,” Steve doesn’t really know, but he knows this wedding has been a lot of work for both Eddie and Chrissy, a job Chrissy wouldn’t have taken on if it was still just her at the shop. But with Eddie’s help, they handled it, and it’s probably going to lead to more of this sort of thing now they know they can do weddings and stuff, “and there was a flyer, a band looking for a guitarist. I called the number and the guy, Gareth, he’s really cool!”

“Right...you want to go meet them?”

“They have practice tonight, I said I only have an acoustic now but they said they could listen and see. Maybe I could get an electric with my savings?” Steve can hear Eddie’s excitement about this practically vibrating down the phone.

“How about I drop you, go get the kids, then come and get you after I drop them home? We’ll probably only be at the arcade a couple of hours anyway.”

“You sure? A lot of, you know, there and back.”

“I know, it’s fine. But you sort the times out with the kids, walkie them when they finish school, okay? I’ll be home around four.”

Eddie hums down the phone, “maybe I should get a car?”

Steve thinks for a second, because, yeah, that would give Eddie more independence, but realistically running another vehicle costs money and they have been managing with sharing the beemer, “we might need to think about cost.”

Eddie hums again, “I think there’s going to be more work with Chrissy. But. Yes, okay. Talk later?”

“Sure babe.”

Steve pulls into a driveway, the garage door open despite the cold, and a drum kit already set up, three guys milling around inside. Eddie is practically getting out of the car before Steve has it in park, hefting his guitar out of the back seat, the excitement coming off him in almost palpable waves.

Well, either that or they do have mind powers, Steve doesn’t know, but it makes him think for a second as he climbs out at a much more sedate pace. Eddie’s already saying hello to Gareth, and now Steve is here, he recognizes these guys from school. Gareth’s already giving him some side eye, which, great.

Because Steve, at some point or other, was probably an absolute prick to these dudes, or at least, a prick to their friends or other band nerds or whatever, “this is Steve,” Eddie is saying.

It’s almost painful when Gareth replies, “yeah, we know who that is,” in a tone that even Eddie can’t possibly miss.

It’s suddenly quiet, and suddenly incredibly fucking awkward, the other two guys still in the garage are watching Steve wearily, “I’ll be back in a few hours for Eddie, that cool?”

“I don’t know man, is it?” And Gareth is now looking at Eddie a little uncertainly, like Eddie is...a bully simply by association.

Steve just shakes his head and backs down, “I’ll see you in a bit,” he tells Eddie, and high tails it out of there. He prays, vaguely, on the way to pick up the kids that those dudes won’t associate Eddie now with Steve’s behavior at school. He second guesses himself all the way to the arcade, Dustin chirruping in his ear, should he have tried to straighten things out? Staying when they clearly still think he’s a massive prick, or worse, actually a danger to them, didn’t feel like the right thing to do.

He remembers smashing Jon’s camera, the whole school would have known about that. The fights he got into. Every time he intimidated someone, surrounded by his sad little army of dickhead jocks. Every shitty thing he’s ever done might just have come back to bite him. Well, worse, if Steve was taking it, it would be fine, he deserves it...but if Eddie’s now being treated badly because he’s friends with Steve well that...that feels shitty.

Steve tries to remember Gareth at School, or Jeff...or the third kid that Steve recognizes but can’t place. Robin would know, he’s pretty sure they were all in band together. He tries to remember if he did anything specifically to any of those guys but he...can’t. He shoved so many kids into open lockers over the years that he’s pretty sure he probably got one of them at some point. Odds are not in his favor, at least.

Steve prays vaguely while watching the kids play games that they’re bigger men than Steve and they will give Eddie the benefit of the doubt. Besides, it’s Eddie, and he can win pretty much anyone over.

Steve hopes.

Steve pulls into the drive, killing the engine. The garage doors are mostly shut, it is still January and fucking freezing. Steve sits and stares absently at the slither of light escaping out from beneath the door. It feels like it’s been dark for hours already, and Steve is caught squinting when the door slides open unexpectedly and the light blinds him a little. Eddie’s sitting on a roughed up couch, sipping something orange out of a glass, his acoustic cradled on his knee. Steve takes a deep breath, and debates getting out of the car.

Eddie makes the choice for him, he gets up, leaving his guitar lent against the arm of the couch, and comes around to the drivers side. Steve opens the door to speak to him, “okay?”

Eddie frowns at him, then looks back at the guys for a second, “Stevie? They told me things about...about you before and I don’t think they’re true-”

“They’re true.” Eddie really frowns then, but what's worse is the clear disappointment.

“I didn’t...I said there was a mistake?” Eddie says gently, hopeful to the last, “when Chrissy said you used to be a prick I didn’t...I didn’t understand then, what she meant. But when they said about...well it made me remember.”

Steve feels a bit sick, “I can’t change it and…it’s no defense but...I was stupid, then...I didn’t understand how much I was hurting people. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say it to me,” Eddie huffs a little, looking away, and disappointing Eddie feels like the worst thing in the world.

“No, yeah, you’re right,” Steve climbs out of the car. And the three guys watch him wearily enough that it really hammers home to Steve just how fucking horrible he’d been some times.

He knows he’s stalling, and he knows he’s fiddling with his hair and he makes himself shove his hands in his pockets instead. All eyes are literally on him, and Steve looks to the side, Eddie looking back at him, eyes big and brown and hopeful. Steve huffs a breath. He can do this.

He’s been tortured by Russians, there’s no way this will be worse. Probably.

“I...was a terrible person. I did shitty things that...absolutely no one has to forgive me for, and I know this is probably way too little way too late. But I am sorry, and I...do get it now. And I regret it. And I’m sorry.”

Eddie’s smiling at him, at least, looking encouraging. And kind of proud.

“So...yeah, I get the damage is done, and I can’t...change it. But Eddie’s a great guy okay? And he’s real excited about being in your band so, yeah, thank you, for having him over. That’s...cool of you.”

“Right,” says Gareth, looking over at the guy Steve is pretty sure is called Jeff, “well that’s...I mean. Thanks. I guess.” Jeff just shrugs.

Steve thinks his body might cave in on itself with how painful this is. He vaguely hopes that he will just disappear into the ground to escape.

“Okay,” Eddie finally says to break the silence.

“Yeah,” Jeff says, “whatever, same time next week Eds?”

“Yes!” Eddie has the biggest grin on his face.

“And remember about that electric, yeah?”

Steve makes himself scarce, waiting in the car as the guys say goodbye to Eddie. He watches as Eddie packs away his guitar, getting a round of fist bumps as they wrap up. They’re all smiling and laughing, relaxed again now that Steve’s out of the way, so Steve figures it’s all good.

Part FortyTwo

[meraki-sunset]

so your crow strider au gave me inspiration for my own au, but i've built up the idea in my brain so much that now im scared to try to put it to paper (oops) did you ever deal with this while making crow strider? (and if you did, how you got over it would be much appreciated thanks fhdjks) also your art is cool :]

Hi, sure, i encountered a few blocks when writing CSAU and other projects. I think my method comes down to a couple rules

You need to know how the story ends from the start, so everything in the story leads to the end. Things can change about the contents of the story as you write it and you change your mind about the events that will transpire in it, but you need an end goal you can build your story towards. Most importantly, this is what allows you to add foreshadowing for said ending and structure the narrative in a clear direction. Otherwise, you might come up with a cool ending too late and regret some choices from past chapters that now don’t help this new ending you want

On that same note (and i’ll proceed to copy and paste from an old post) You need to have a Word document with a rough timeline of the events from start to finish. You need to know how it ends from the beginning and how they get there. It can be really, really vague, but it has to be there. It can go like

. They start the game, the trolls bother them.

.both games go to hell

.scratch

.trip, develop relationships

.new set of kids/teen drama

.old kids they get there

.to hell again

.John retcons everything

.new timeline

.they win

And that's homestuck simplified, Those are your Acts. With them, you will know where you're going and if you need to change something earlier. Everything will be constantly up to change of course, but you will be going from point A to point Z more easily.

From there, you go to every point in that list and create a Word document for all of them. I have them in different folders to have every act separated and in order.

A folder for each Doc for every Act, Numbered, and in each one make more lists like that one telling what happens, for example

WordDoc1 - ACT 1 "They start the game, the trolls bother them"=

.John needs to get his game

.introduce Rose

.introduce the trolls on pester chats

. John gets the game

.introduce Dave

.etc

And those are your chapters. Now you can know the extent of what you want to do and if it makes any sense.

I addition to that, every Folder can contain not only the Word document for the Act but also relevant texts and art that are connected to the Act, so evey folder is all about that specific act and any inspiration for it.

Another piece of advice I can give you is to hint at anything important. That's a rule of comedy; actually, the comedian usually closes the show with something related to the first things they said.

That works for everything, and makes people go, "Oh the thing! The meaningless thing they said earlier, it was a clue all along!"

Interconnect it like a web, and that web will stop the story from falling

Homestuck is so ridiculously interconnected that you lose track of the stuff and objects that repeat that have no way to be where they got to be, songs and people and events that are too similar to not be connected but nobody addresses, things like that make it feel like you're dealing with a universe and not just a line of events.

3. Yet another thing, it's something I'm still trying to assimilate, and is that less is more, sometimes things don't need to be said, specialy not bluntly, and an expression, a gesture, a flinch can summarize them. Backgrounds can be reduced, and ideas can be conveyed.

one example is, In homestuck, it's never said that Dave was raised with lack of food. He never sais it, but it's shown in how happy he was to find a warm bottle of juice in his closet, how there is only weapons on the kitchen and no sign of food, how he later sais he never learned what the purpose of a fridge was until he saw it on tv. If someone is lacking something, don't have them say, "i grew up without X thing" show what filled that space in the absence of X thing.

Instead of some character saying, "My dad was never there for christmas" have them say how they thrited for presents at the local goodwill, payed with their lawn mowing money and put the presents under the tree themselves for their siblings and mom.

4. Something that I always have in mind when writing the dialogs and sketching the scenes, is

"I have an idea; what's the easiest way for someone to get the idea, to get the feelings i want to transmit from the idea?" I made the art something I could handle drawing hundreds of times, simplified the coloring, the aspect symbols, the way I draw backgrounds, the way I write dialogs, etc.

That will save you time and work and could prevent you from getting stuck with a project too big to handle

5. This is the most important one: The first draft’s only purpose is to exist.

Writing is like playing darts sometimes; you only get closer to hitting the center by missing it and learning what not to do. That’s an actual rule on animation and a motto on the Disney office. “Get it wrong as quick as you can,” because when you learn what you’re doing wrong is when you start learnign what doing it right means.

If it helps, title your first draft “the dumb version,” because that’s what it is—the version to get the idea out of your head, and then you built over it.

On the same note, once you write "the dumb version" don’t correct it. Rewrite it. It’s annoying, I know, i know, but fixing and fixing a text only carries the mistakes from the first draft, and everything looks kind of disconnected, because it ends up being a Frankenstein text of all the versions of the story mixed together.

This also applies to art; that’s how I handle both writing and drawing; if it’s not working, hold onto the core idea, new page, restart.

Rewriting it puts it in perspective; it feels like a text of its own, with a clear intent in mind.

I think that’s all I have. Making a story is mostly about managing your strengths and weaknesses, organizing and not being scared of it not being perfect.

Hope this helps.

[yan-randomfandom]

Hiii baby! Can I request Jinx, Cait and if you do Maddie (all separately) w/ a gf who is dose very crafty/homemade makeovers?

Hear me out- why spend money on a cut & color, new piercing, nails ect when your hg can do it for you herself?? (I just grew up poor and had to learn😭😭)

Jinx, Caitlyn, & Maddie with a crafty girlfriend headcanons!!

a/n: omg its so nice that you rose up & learned em😭 such a fun request! this one is written before act 3

I didn't proofread or edit so please feel free to point out anything that's bothering you 😭

also this might be ooc.... im so sorry if it is😔

Let's go and start with ...

🌀

Jinx

Jinx has an established style with her neon painted nails, twin braids, inventions, and everything in her possession. An endearing fashion sense, even if some think it looks ridiculous lmaooo

With Jinx being an artisan and artist herself, you both find being creative a common ground in your relationship!

Makeovers anytime, anywhere. No need to find professionals when you have your girlfriend right here! It's a give and take relationship for sure. I imagine it'd be so fun and full of laughs 😩

Also I think you guys will inspire each other back and forth lolol

Having an art block and you don't like it? Ask the other for help!

And if you're both having art blocks? Well, Jinx will take you out on vastly different spots until you find what you're looking for. It's a great way to bond, and sightseeing is nice (⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠)

When you're exploring new styles, and you aren't doing it on Jinx, she would love to simply watch you work. It has some sort of calming effect on her, especially if you're rambling while doing it.

If she sees something of your art that she likes, she might just copy you in her style! Kind of like how Jinx did that makeup when she was in Vi's apartment or something

Although don't be surprised if you wake up and see your face horrendously painted in the morning 😔

You can't even revenge because she sleeps with one eye open, I fear

☄️

Caitlyn

MAN. I feel like you'd have to beg Caitlyn for even the simplest makeovers. She looks so plain rn (in the style way) or am I just blind 😭

You suppose it makes sense. She looks so perfect and you keep giving compliments. Like, why is she so pretty?? There's just so many possibilities you can do with her appearance!!

But, sadly, she doesn't let you give her makeovers much. Not that she doesn't like your work, she respects it and adores it, but arts isn't exactly her thing.

I think make-up of any kind would probably feel uncomfortable for her. Plus it would be a hassle to remove it, she would say.

What you can do is give her hair a trim. A perfect line, as much as possible. She comes to you when her hair feels longer, or more damaged, than usual. Granted, it can be boring, but you're just glad you're doing something for her.

Another thing is that you can choose outfits for her. You can doll her up anytime as long as you don't take too long picking combinations!

If she has time, she'll probably let you paint her nails. Make sure she doesn't regret it, or else she might never let you again.

She'd buy anything you want, by the way. Money isn't a problem for her. So you technically have unlimited supplies, thank goodness, 'cause sometimes they can be so expensive.

You jokingly tell her that even if you break up, if she ever changes her mind about getting something, she'll come to you. Absolute dibs on Caitlyn!!

🍯

Maddie

I feel like Maddie has never really delved into bodily artworks, since she spent most of her time studying about laws and stuff.

Like,, do we agree on the motion that she cut her hair so she doesn't have to deal with it 😭 Less weight during missions too

So when her amazing girlfriend happens to be passionate about creatives? Oh, boy, she's going to be filled with curiosity.

She'll allow you to do anything you want to her, as long as it isn't permanent. In fact, she's super enthusiastic about it, always trusting the process and seeing the result.

You're so creative that it's impressive!! Even if it isn't your best work, she always finds a way to praise you 😭

She'd love to watch you work as well, but she's not exactly the quiet type 🥲

Expect a whole bunch of questions. "What's that for?" "Why are you putting that?" "Ooh, that technique looks complicated. How—"

One of your quality time is definitely you trying to teach her new things. Let her paint your nails, do your hair, and anything that can make you both happy.

If you make clips or whatnot, you definitely try to overload her fluffy hair with decoration. You try different hairstyles possible with that length of hers.

Sometimes, you catch her playing around with your make-up alone. It almost always ends with you fixing it up for her 😭

you, showing your new haircut (it looks horrible): yoooo isn't this so rizzing

jinx: hell yeah

caitlyn: you are not going out like that. go get your unnecessary amount of hair extensions and choose from there

maddie: hell yeah

[lucabyte]

obligatory ramble about postcanon loop ask

also your art is amazing

Hiiiiiiiii :D thank you :)!!

and thank you for the excuse to post the. just absolute wall of text that i truncated down to form the tags of that post. (i did,,, hit the tag limit. i forgot tumblr had one of those...) so let me just paste that and tidy it up a bit...

I am putting this under a readmore because it's a bit long. but:

This is like. The General Context for all* of my postcanon doodles? (Except AUs obviously) Like this is the base idea I've been drawing them all in. So, feel free to backread with this in mind. I've basically had this 'postcanon' timeline set in my brain since finishing the game...

My general thoughts are that I like the idea of Loop (even if through dubiously ethical means) being able to slowly reintegrate with the party as a whole new person, because they are, in fact, their own person.

It's a muddle of thematic threads im pulling on and "wouldn't it be fucked up if", but. (at its core, it's powered by the fact that like, while narratively isat's theme of 'the only person who can truly take the first step to help you is yourself'. (wrt: loop helping the party help siffrin in act 5) which i LOVE AND IS GREAT NARRATIVELY…. would be super fucked up irl to learn that your friend 'learned as a lesson' while you stood by kinda uselessly. I know i'd be upset about it. but thats mostly background here. doesn't really come up. at least not until loop has to explain who they are and the party realises they had to fall back on literally themselves again for help, but i digress,)

The real core concept is: Occam's razor. It is like, inherently, a buckwild thing to accuse a person of being somehow a clone or copy of your friend. Even if they start vaguely alluding to a backstory it's far more likely they were some other person before all that. (I still think Odile has that theory in the back pocket but she's rational enough to know it's a really long shot without a solid explanation. and i think Loop deep down knows this, and would, if cornered into confessing, turn the situation around to go J'ACCUSE and make HER explain it instead. Ever longer dodging being direct with their emotions...)

And the party are nice! And if someone has changed and wants to keep stuff secret it's kind of not their business? (Though it's hard not to speculate… see: the main joke of the doodles) And they seem important to Siffrin so they just try to accept them abrasive quirks and all. And eventually the question of their prior identity just fades away since, well, they're Loop. Their friend Loop.

but yeah. personal headcanon is that a few months/weeks after picking up and getting aquainted with Nille** (since that was presumably the IMMEDIATE TASK postgame), Loop reappears (either after a literal period of nonexistance, or just spending a few months wandering the french countryside alone being attacked by wild dogs). Since Siffrin has had a while to be therapised by the party they're doing mostly okay, but Loop showing up and still being agitated/aggressive pulls them both into a bit of a backslide behaviourally and puts the party on the back foot again.

Hooowever, I do think that due to no longer being literally stewing in the worst pressure cooker of all time together, the two do mostly actually sort themselves out with productive conversation. (Via a cycle of: genuinely distressing argument -> weeeird lovebombing -> ok we're good -> repeat, that gets less intense over time)

Thus, allowing the party to just. Integrate loop as a new person. They and Siffrin shuffle into different ecological niches (Loop taking over stuff Siffrin is now too squeamish for, etc (see: hunting, mostly)), and while it's not exactly what Loop wanted they generally get that beggars can't be choosers and it's a pretty good deal. And the rest of the party does straight up just like them as a friend, especially when Loop quits trying to actively antagonise them after a few weeks of being around them, since they just can't keep up being mean to people they like forever.

As for how I think the truth eventually drags itself out. This is where I invoke The Isabeau Torment Nexus™. So its gonna get shippy here for a bit hold on.

Which is, I think giving them time before Loop reappears long enough that Siffrin and Iseabeau actually manage to become established, Isabeau has to be the one to nudge the pair of them and go. "Hey. You know we're in Vaugarde right. I'm okay with polyamory if we all communicate." Before Loop and Siffrin actually even acknowledge that whatever the fuck they have going on kinda looks a lot like a relationship of some kind. (or have already been agonising about that via fighting and arguing, depending) (Obviously this comes after Isa "Emotionally intelligent enough to keep a lid on the jealousy" Beau has managed to use that big brain of his to Not just go Scream somewhere on the daily because oh godddd they keep talking like theyre suicide-baiting each other jesus chriiist. is it overstepping his boundaries to bring that up?? god)

This, taking a bunch of the tension out of Loop and Isabeau's relationship (Since I imagine Loop is a. being weird for the obvious reasons and b. feeling kinda guilty about 'getting in the way of' Siffrin and Iseabeau), allows them to actually get close in a normal friend way. (I think an interesting turning point could be Isabeau actually taking Loop's side in an argument vs Siffrin, which would absolutely break Loop's brain. Especially if it's an argument that matters. Like what do you mean he isn't just going to play favourites. What?)

Then Isabeau, just actually open minded and charmed by Loop (and maybe even somewhat at Siffrin's suggestion?) tries to close the final open side on the polyamory triangle here and that's the final straw for Loop on "This lie by omission is too unethical to keep up, this is just actually sick and wrong. I can't do this while he doesn't know who I am." Though. Obviously it probably goes. Very poorly with emotions high like that. And the added element of several months of deceit. Getting dark here for a second but that dagger is going MISSING and so are THEY for a hot minute.

Then yaaay everything works out in the end 👍 yippieee!! all it took was maybe a lot of harrowed recontextualisation of all the weird shit your new friend said and did when it turns out they're your old friend. It's fine.

But yeah. this is basically the context all of my postcanon doodles have existed within? And those exist to give other people something to chew on. So this does too.

I suppose TL;DR: Imagine if sloopis almost fucking happens before isabeau knows who loop is. can you fucking imagine. can you imagine having to navigate that. nightmare.

*Yes this includes the implied cannibalism comic. Uhh. Comes part and parcel with headcanoning that Loop went way off the deep end similar to A5 Sif But Maybe Worse before giving in. Add weepy half-asleep confessions to murder wherever you see fit in your mind palace. 👍👍👍

**Re: Nille footnote. I don't have anywhere to put this besides here! I have some thoughts on Loop and Nille having an odd dynamic. I don't imagine Nille to be super gung-ho on trusting a bunch of adults (even if they are majority around her age) given their implied backstory. It's probably a big shock to the system, especially since Bambouche is a good couple hundred Kilometers up north from Dormont and these guys don't seem to have trains. She would've been unfrozen and without Bonnie for some time....

Which is to say: I think she's suspicious of them. I think she may be looking for excuses to distance herself, keep Bonnie safe. SO.... A new guy showing up? And antagonising the party? What do they know that I don't...? I should find out.

And since... Loop didn't ever know Nille, they have no ammunition or real reason to be cruel. Plus, if they're trying to stay on Bonnie's good side (SINCE... if Bonnie thought Loop was cringe they may as well kill themselves. In their mind.) they SUPER have no reason to antagonise Nille.

Mostly, they might be able to open up to each other easier than they can the rest of the party?

I feel like this resolves with Loop feeling compelled to apologise for what they and Siffrin let happen to Bonnie, though... Hmm... Depends on how you interpret Nille that they'd be glad nobody else had been told about that yet, or furious it had been secret this long. I lean toward the former.

[lellalombardiapologist]

💙✨ So you want to learn more about Didier Pironi? Great news, I’m here to help! 💙✨

There isn’t much stuff out there, and a lot of materials are biased in favour of Gilles, but this is my overview of the materials about Didier that can be found out there:

(note: I say reading bc it’s how I best absorb info, that being said there will be a mention of the Villeneuve Pironi documentary. Also I will not include books that are mostly about Gilles)

Books in english:

Pironi, the champion that never was - David Sedgwick: so, remember when I said most materials are biased in favour of Gilles? Well, this one goes the opposite route. The only reason why I cannot call myself Didier’s number one defender and apologist is because mr Sedgwick is out there. This is the best starting point, it’s easy to find, cheap and very thorough. Among its source materials it can boast the book written by Didier’s mother and never published, which provides a lot of details about his childhood and personality. This is the book that got me obsessed with Didier, if you only have to get one book, get this one.

Didier, dreams and nightmares - Lorie Coffey & Jan Moller: I haven’t been able to find a copy of this one for a reasonable price, sadly, so I can’t vouch for this. Sedgwick told me on Twitter that it’s lacking some info, but again, I haven’t read it.

1982 The inside story of the sensational Grand Prix Season - Christopher Hilton: I’m including this because while it is not focused on Didier only, it does give an interesting overview of such a crucial life changing season. It’s not what I’d consider a mandatory read but it’s still worth checking it out.

Documentaries in english:

The Villeneuve-Pironi documentary: I have to mention this one at least. While it is better than others, I still have beef with it, because despite having some people from Didier’s side in it, it’s also still incredibly biased towards Gilles, and also Joann Villeneuve lies a few times (or at the very least what she says doesn’t match what’s out there in terms of available info).

Books in italian:

L’indimenticabile 1982 della Ferrari - Alfredo Rossi: a small book written by a journalist, it’s like a time capsule since it was written before the 1982 season even ended! Noteworthy how there is both deep admiration for Gilles and sincere respect for Didier. A bit harder to find but if you are in Italy you could get this on Abebooks or similar websites

Books in french:

Didier Pironi, la flèche brisée - Martine Camus: not as complete as the Sedgwick one but it contains a lot of interviews and pieces written by people who have known him, and can be found for decent prices, so it’s worth reading it

Lettre à Didier - Catherine Goux: this one I have yet to read, however I’m still including it because it was written by Didier’s last girlfriend, and mother of his twins. This is probably something that will make you cry a lot, but I bet it’s an interesting insight (Sedgwick said so, anyway)

Magazines in french:

Grand Prix #8, 2012: a Didier-themed issue which also contains extracts from the book written by Didier’s mom, an interview with Didier’s twins and Jacques Villeneuve and much more. It can be found on the magazine’s website, but they are out of the paper version so you can only get the digital issue.

Grand Prix #9, 2012: a Didier-Gilles themed issue, focused on Imola 82 and what happened to their friendship, another interesting read.

Other magazines and sources:

I like to collect old issues of Rombo and Autosprint, two very popular motorsport magazines of the past, even if that means enduring the bodyshaming they did to Didier, they’re still a valuable historical insight. According to where you live, you may look for old motorsport magazines too! Libraries may have those, and there’s always flea markets and ebay. I recommend starting with issues that depict positive events such as Didier’s victories, but I also own the Autosprint issue for Didier’s death.

Sometimes I translate old articles from those magazines! This is the sideblog where you can find them: la flèche brisée

If you can’t get old motorsport magazines, I have a suggestion: browse the online archives for your most popular newspapers, the biggest ones are probably old enough to have online archives, most of these are free. Select the dates for important events in Didi’s life, lead to the sport section and profit!

[kozachenko]

And now we are finally getting to the most recent stuff I've worked on, starting off with my 2025 Marisa redraw! This time I'll actually have some more stuff to say since I can remember my thought process while drawing this yipeeee- (click image for better quality)

Artist's Notes;

So ever since doing these redraws, I've always kinda mourned the loss of the second redraw's dramatic lighting, so I decided to finally bring it back for this one! This one is kind of the melding of a bunch of my favourite aspects of the precious redraws, plus some of the newer stuff I've learned ever sine making them. I also tried out a new style of rendering hair for this piece and I'm really happy with how it looks! Also if you guys are wondering, yes that it s the same lantern from the previous Marisa drawing I did, I copy and pasted it because I was lazy and I just needed it to look consistent, work smarter not harder folks.

So I've been returning to my old favourite brush, the Clip Studio Paint Default Oil Paint brush for this one, and I did a bunch of the rendering for this piece with minimal blending. For the clothing, I wanted to incorperate a technique I did a few years ago, where I added some subsurface scattering to make the lighting feel more dynamic, and I love the effect it gave the white parts of the clothes. For the hair rendering, I did one base layer of shadows on top of my base colour for the hair, then a sort of mid-tone underneath it to add some variety in colour, and then did my highlights underneath all of that. I focused less on rendering every single strand of hair and moreso focused on getting the general shapes down, since I got inspired by some art I saw on Pinterest with a similar rendering style.

Once I finished with the base rendering, I used a multiply layer to create some more prominent shadows and also to give the lighting more direction. I did this with another piece as well and I think it gives me some pretty good results. It helps make the shadows a lot clearer and also gives me some better lighting while also allowing me to do some rendering to flesh it out even further, it's the best of both worlds and I have a lot of fun doing it. Also, what helped me a lot in the compositional stage was making a shitty little stick figure version of the character in the pose that I wanted and then painting in the base pose like a mannequin. I find that just painting in the figure immediately instead of forcing myself to stick to a rigid sketch has helped me out a lot, and here's an example of how the process went below. Later on in the drawing I did flip my canvas and after fixing it, realized that I liked it better flipped so that's why the orientation is slightly different. It also helps to just to some quick linework distinguishing the body parts to it's easier for me to draw the clothes. I do often keep major features of the silhouette in tact during this phase though so I don't forget to include them.

The background was actually pretty fun since it's just a nice outdoors scene. I didn't want there to be too much detail since I am all for creating the illusion of detail than rendering everything in immaculate detail, though I do think I could do just a little bit better, but hey that's why I've mainly been drawing backgrounds nowadays lol.

Overall, I'm really proud of this piece and I had a lot of fun making it. I want to continue experimenting with backgrounds and how to incorporate characters into them, so after my hibernation period you guys can expect to see some more of that.

[fluentmoviequoter]

A Sacred Guardian's Duty

Part 2 of A Sacred Guardian

Pairing: (platonic) Tim Bradford x fem!Cybertronian!reader

Summary: While assisting Tim and Lucy in a street racing sting, you're abducted by Decepticons. Tim challenges Optimus's leadership and learns that his experience with war won't help the Autobots... or you.

Warnings: vague TFP spoiler (Starscream related), angst, r is abducted by Decepticons, canon-typical stuff, fluff

Word Count: 6.0k+ words

A/N: Here's a list of Transformers anatomy terms!

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

“Morning,” Lucy greets after roll call. “How’s… everything?”

“Everything’s fine,” Tim answers flatly. “What do you want?”

Lucy’s eyes widen in shock, and she raises her hand to her chest. “What makes you think I want something?”

“Because you’re not subtle.”

“I am very subtle,” she argues. “And I was just trying to be friendly.”

“Well, I’m your TO, not your friend.”

“Sorry,” Lucy mumbles.

Tim crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the back of the shop. Lucy shrugs one shoulder and steps toward the passenger-side door, but Tim doesn’t move.

“Fine,” she sighs. “I have a favor I wanted to ask.”

“You want to borrow my car,” Tim guesses. His brows lift when he says my, and Lucy’s shoulders drop in surprise at how easily he read her.

“I… How’d you know?”

“You didn’t ask how I was, so you weren’t trying to butter me up for anything.”

“Would she-”

 Lucy stops when Tim gestures toward his body cam. She nods once and walks away to get into the shop. It’s one thing to know about the existence of sentient robots disguised as cars. Still, it’s another to actually talk about them. Particularly when in a crowded police station or while on camera. You and your friends have a secret to keep, a war to fight, and jobs to do, so Tim and Lucy will do everything they can to help and to ensure that your identities – and your existence - remain undiscovered.

“Makes you look twice at every nice car you see, though, doesn’t it?” Lucy asks as Tim shifts the shop into drive.

“Every single one,” he agrees.

“7-Adam-100, switch to channel 3,” Nell requests over the radio.

“Copy,” Tim replies. He turns the dial, then asks, “What’ve you got for me?”

“The last three nights we’ve had consistent complaints of drag racing along Sierra Bonita Avenue north of Olympic,” Nell explains. “Calls start about 9 p.m. Sergeant Grey asked me to find a unit to post there tonight.”

Tim glances at Lucy, who nods emphatically. “We’ll take it,” Tim answers. “Any other details?”

“Several callers have mentioned a dark grey or black Ferrari, model unclear.”

“Got it. Thanks, Nell.”

“Want to check the area out first, find a place to post?” Lucy inquires.

“I do,” Tim answers distractedly. He’s been sitting at the same stop sign for over a minute without traffic blocking his route.

“What’s wrong?” Lucy asks, leaning forward to follow Tim’s eyeline.

“Don’t see many Mid-Wilshire residents park their trailers and off-road vehicles in the street,” Tim says, pointing to an unhitched trailer.

“Maybe they’re leaving with it soon.”

“No cars in the driveway… But maybe.”

“Want me to run the plate on the trailer?” Lucy offers.

“No, no reason to. Let’s look for actual lawbreaking.”

“Wow. Pull that straight out of an episode of Miami Vice? Should I get you some sunglasses to push up the next time you deliver a line like that?”

“You do know I can still have you fired, right?”

“I know.”

“Whoa,” you murmur, looking up from Ratchet’s computer screen. “What happened to you?”

“You should see the other guy,” Arcee replies.

You raise your digits toward her scraped chest plate and dented mouthpiece, but don’t touch her. Shaking your head, you drop your arm and wonder what you’ve gotten into. It’s been years since you lost your way home, and every day you defend Earth, you see that the dangers don’t stop with the Decepticons. Seeing one of your own injured is never easy, but knowing Arcee was alone on patrol last night makes you feel nearly as guilty as you are concerned.

“How many?” Optimus asks.

“Just two sightings today,” Arcee answers. “I heard chatter of a race tonight.”

“Which means the Stunticons will be there,” you interject. “I think Wildrider is in town.”

“What makes you say that?” Ratchet asks, scanning Arcee’s damage.

“Somebody’s radio was manually scanning fourteen frequencies at once,” you explain. “I can’t think of anyone else with that kind of energy.”

“Racing is the reward, not the finish line,” Bumblebee quotes.

“I didn’t get a clear location,” Arcee says, understanding Bee’s question. “Somewhere near a park, but it isn’t their first race.”

Optimus looks at you, and you nod once in understanding. Being a guardian is an important duty, but it’s usually a one-way relationship. You protect someone who needs to be protected, maybe they give you friendship or help navigating earth customs, but nothing more. Your guardianship is less typical. Because Tim Bradford is a police officer, he can help in ways no one else can.

“If the police know, Soundwave will too,” you remind your team.

“I can handle Soundwave,” Ironhide assures you, pressing his servos together.

 “We’re not looking for a fight,” Optimus interrupts. “Not tonight. Let’s keep these people safe, and we’ll wage war for Cybertron when the time is right.”

“Yes, sir,” you answer with your comrades, teammates, friends.

Transforming into your alt mode, you adjust your radio to listen for Decepticon transmissions, but they’re smart. Soundwave has gotten better at disguising their conversations since you fought Barricade.

“C’mon, Wildride,” you murmur under the rev of your engine. “Where’d that hyper desire for adventure go?”

“We’ll be back,” Tim assures Wade as he and Lucy exit the station at the end of their shift.

“Where are we going?” Lucy asks. “To get dinner? Please tell me it’s to get dinner.”

“We’re going to get some intel about our street racers.”

Lucy gasps, her smile widening as she asks, “Sparks?”

“You don’t have to come.”

“Uh, yes I do!”

Tim shakes his head as Lucy climbs into the passenger seat of his truck. You sent him a text earlier – something he really wants to ask about, though he knows it isn’t the top priority – and asked him to meet you after hours at his friend’s automotive shop.

Tim pulls into the open garage bay, and Lucy is out of the truck and standing beside your pristine, shiny red alt mode Mustang body before the door begins to rattle closed.

“Thanks for coming,” you say before you transform.

Rather than standing at full height, you lower onto the garage floor and smile at Tim and Lucy. There’s still a sense of awe in their expressions when they look at you, and you’ve grown to care deeply for both of them.

“You said you had information,” Tim reminds you, slipping his hands in his pockets.

“Wait, you talk to each other?” Lucy clarifies. “How?”

“My friend Ratchet has a gift for technology,” you answer. “Figured a text would be safer than broadcasting my voice over a police scanner.”

“Probably best,” Tim agrees.

“There’s a street race happening tonight,” you begin.

“On Sierra Bonita,” Tim finishes, his brows lifting. “How do you know… Decepticons?”

“Right. There could be civilians racing, too, I have no way of knowing. There’s one ‘con, who may be there though…”

“Dangerous?” Lucy guesses.

“Incredibly. His alt mode is a Ferrari 308 GTB.”

“He’s been at the other races,” Tim interrupts. “911 callers reported a dark colored Ferrari every night for the last week.”

“Sounds like Wildrider,” you agree. “He can drive over 200 miles an hour, he’s got maneuverability and control that even I’m a little envious of, and that’s not even the worst part of it. He’s got a scattershot gun that shoots lasers a quarter mile.”

“If he does that in the middle of Mid-Wilshire, hundreds of people could be injured,” Lucy comments.

“He likes the carnage he causes driving,” you add. “There is one good part. He’s reckless, overactive, overeager, and he causes his own tires to fail constantly.”

“Even if he takes himself out of the race, he’s a liability,” Tim says. “We can’t handle a race and a laser-shooting alien.”

“Sounds like one of the bad earth movies Jazz liked,” you murmur.

“See?!” Lucy exclaims, lifting both hands toward you.

“Any idea how many cars have been racing?” you inquire.

“Three or four, based on the 911 calls,” Tim answers.

“A group that small has to be all Decepticons.”

“Who else could be there?”

“Well… Wildbreak, Dragstrip, Slashmark, and Wildrider would be my first guesses. They’re Stunticons, a sub-faction of ‘cons that can combine.”

“What kind of vehicles are they?” Lucy asks.

“Their alt modes? Wildbreak is a sports car, Dragstrip is a 6-wheeled race car – I think that’s what you’d call it, and Slashmark is a red, blue, and gray off-road vehicle.” You lower to look at Tim and Lucy before you add, “Do not cross Slashmark.”

“We have to stop these races,” Tim argues.

“You stop bad drivers!” you exclaim, standing. “These ‘cons are the drivers! They won’t hesitate to hurt you- to kill you, and you can’t stop them!”

“We have to do something,” Lucy says softly.

“Then stay out of the way and let us do our jobs.”

Tim clenches his jaw, but he understands where you’re coming from. You’re a born protector, a guardian, and you’re lashing out at them from a place of concern and care.

“Fine,” Tim agrees. “But we’ll be close. If that race starts, we’ll have to step in and stop it.”

You sigh, shifting your pedes on the concrete beneath you. “Fine. Use your spike strips and then get people out of our way.”

Tim gestures for Lucy to return to the truck, then leans against a large metal toolbox, waiting for you to calm down.

“I’m sorry,” you offer after several minutes of pacing.

“I get it,” he assures you. “But you’re putting yourself and your friends in danger by going out in public.”

“What else can we do?”

“Tell me how to get the Decepticons to reveal themselves, and we’ll call in people who can subdue them.”

You bark a laugh, then shake your head. “If your government finds out about the ‘cons, they’ll start looking for more, for us. You can’t get involved in this fight, Tim.”

Tim nods slowly. “Then we’ll keep civilians out of your way, but you’ll have to act fast.”

After transforming into your Mustang alt mode, you rev the engine and say, “Fast is kind of our thing.”

Your tires squeal, blowing black smoke behind you before you lurch out of the garage and into the Los Angeles dusk.

“What’d she say?” Lucy asks when Tim starts his truck.

“We’ve got new orders,” he answers.

Tucked between two inconspicuous cars parked alongside Sierra Bonita Avenue, Tim and Lucy wait in an unmarked cruiser.

“Heads up,” Tim alerts as a yellow Camaro drives by. “Friendly.”

“That’s two of ours, then,” Lucy muses. “Where are the others?”

“Waiting, stalling, not coming,” Tim lists. “Who knows.”

“Incoming,” someone says over the radio.

Tim looks up in time to see a large truck hauling the trailer and off-road vehicle he and Lucy saw earlier. Slashmark, he realizes now.

“Should’ve run that plate,” Lucy mumbles.

“Who’s hauling him?” Tim asks.

The vehicle backs off the trailer as the truck rolls to a stop, then pulls away without anyone the wiser to what has happened. A moment later, vehicles matching your description of Dragstrip and Wildride arrive and park beside Slashmark.

“They’ll wait until the road is clear, right?” Lucy inquires.

“Unlikely,” Tim replies. “She said Wildride likes the carnage. These are obstacles to them, a way to make the race more exciting.”

“They should’ve sent the big guy,” Lucy says. “The big guy is an Autobot, right?”

“Optimus? Yeah.”

“You met him?!” Lucy yells, causing Tim to turn away from her. “That’s so not fair!”

“I’ve met most of them,” Tim responds.

“Shut up, you’re the worst.”

“They’re doing something,” Tim alerts.

He and Lucy lean toward the dash, watching Bumblebee back slowly across the road, his hazard lights on and his horn sounding every few seconds.

“What is he doing?” Lucy murmurs.

“Drawing attention,” Tim realizes.

Cars in both north and southbound lanes begin slowing, letting the Camaro do whatever he’s doing. Some drivers blow their horns, others yell out their windows, but most sit patiently, watching in curiosity. You pull out of a small loop at the northern end of the road and approach the Decepticons where they wait by the intersection of Sierra Bonita and 8th Street.

“No race tonight, boys” you communicate. “Head out to the desert, plenty of room to run there.”

Wildride lurches toward you, but your brake lights remain steady as you stay in place.

“You’re not in charge, bot,” Slashmark seethes, his voice dripping in disdain for you and your kind.

“Maybe not, but I’m calling the shots tonight. Road’s closed.”

“Is it?” Dragstrip asks.

You don’t hear Bee’s horn turn from measured beeps to a steady honk - a warning - until you’ve been blocked in. The truck that brought Slashmark stops directly behind you. Wildride and Dragstrip pull forward to pin you in as Slashmark transforms to sit higher on his destructive wheels - the tires you demanded Tim avoid.

“If there’s no race,” Slashmark begins. “Maybe we need something else to bide our time.”

Bumblebee turns his flashers off, steers into a wide arc, and begins cutting in and out of traffic as you send a distress signal. By the time he reaches the end of the road, you’re gone, and the Decepticons are out of sight.

Sirens echo behind Bee, and he waits at the intersection for Tim to pull up beside him. Lucy exits the passenger seat and slides into Bumblebee’s driver seat.

“What happened?” she asks, running her hand over Bumblebee’s shaking steering wheel.

“Calling all Autobots,” Optimus calls over the radio. “The Decepticons have captured one of our own… Sparks has been taken.”

Lucy looks over at Tim through the rolled-down windows, their wide eyes meeting before Bumblebee turns onto 8th Street and leads Tim toward the warehouse where Optimus and the rest of the Autobots are waiting, the lights and sirens doing little to quiet Tim’s racing thoughts.

“What have you done?” Ironhide demands as Tim enters the warehouse. He left the cruiser outside, but as Bumblebee transforms to stand above Lucy, he desperately wishes you were here with them. Tim lost you, let his guardian be taken for a simple street racing sting, and if you are injured – or worse – he will never forgive himself.

“Where would they take her?” Tim asks.

“Slashmark, Wildride, Dragstrip, and Wildbreak are not your typical Cybertronians,” Ratchet explains. “They work for Megatron, but they have strong wills, they do what they want, how and when they want to do it. If he isn’t aware of the joyrides, there is no telling where they may take her.”

“And if he does know?” Arcee continues. “They’ll offer her up to their lord as a sacrifice.”

“Can’t you trace her?” Lucy asks. “She contacted Tim, shouldn’t it work the other way?”

“We can,” Ironhide answers. “It seems to me that the two of you have done more than enough.”

“It is not your fault,” Optimus soothes. “But Ironhide is right, this is not your fight. Go back to your lives.”

“She’s my guardian,” Tim argues. “I’m not leaving while she’s in trouble.”

“We will find Sparks. There is nothing you can do now but go about your life as if nothing has changed. Should we find something tonight, Ratchet will contact you.”

“Is this how you did things on your planet?” Tim questions harshly. “Push people away when things get hard?”

“No people to push away,” Arcee reminds him. “You’re a liability right now, not an asset.”

“We’re cops,” Lucy counters. “Finding people, and cars, is what we do.”

“Then look for her during your patrol tomorrow,” Ironhide grumbles. “But get out of our way tonight.”

Tim shakes his head as Lucy nods. They will listen, not because they want to or agree but because Optimus is right. There is nothing they can do in this battle they are barely beginning to understand.

“I’m sorry,” Tim offers over his shoulder.

“You and me both, kid,” Bumblebee replies.

Tim and Lucy drive away from the secluded warehouse silently, each thinking about you, the Decepticons they saw tonight, and where you could be.

“We’re going to do something, right?” Lucy asks after several miles pass in a blur.

“Of course we are. She’s saved my life more than once, and I’m not going to sit back and let her lose hers.”

“We could offer up Barricade,” Arcee suggests.

“What’s left of him, you mean,” Ratchet replies. “He’s in stasis. His coming out of it intact is a question, not a given.”

“So, we have no cards to play,” Ironhide translates. “That’s great.”

“Playing their game has never been our way,” Optimus reminds him. “Finding Sparks is the priority.”

“I can trace her signal, try to get an idea of where earth’s Energon levels are highest,” Ratchet offers. “They wouldn’t leave her alone.”

“Walking into a trap,” Arcee muses.

“Nothing we haven’t done before,” Ironhide adds.

“Sparks is a fighter,” Optimus says. “Wherever she is, she’ll be trying to reach us, too.”

“Why do we fall?” Bumblebee plays.

The others silence at his reminder that if they fail, they’ll lose another soldier, another friend, another member of the family. As Autobots, they’re used to fighting as long and as hard as they have to for the right thing. Losing you might be the thing to push them over the edge.

“I’ve got a hit on the Energon trace,” Ratchet announces softly. “I’m counting six Sparks… one of them is weakening.”

“Will she survive the night?” Optimus asks, ever the voice of reason, even as his skirt plates snap into place for battle.

“She will.”

“Where?”

“Moving in a canyon east of where she was taken.”

“As long as they’re moving, we’re at a disadvantage,” Arcee mumbles.

“We’ll wait until they stop, preferably until morning,” Optimus decides. “Autobots, remain ready to roll out. This fight is neither for Earth nor Cybertron, but for us.”

Bumblebee flexes his cables and quotes, “Let’s kick his-”

You groan, your vents tightening with every small movement. Everything hurts, and you stretch your servos out before hissing in pain. Your visor is broken, but your helm is in place. Running your glossa along your intake, you’re surprised that your face plate and the receptors and sensors inside are intact and operating appropriately.

Slowly, you pry your optics open. The world around you is blurry at first, but as your surroundings come into focus and sensors begin making sense of what you see, you realize that you’re a few miles from the place where you were taken. The sun rises over the hills around you, but your radio crackles uselessly. Your chassis and bipedalism cord send a fire-like pain along your plating that you’ve never felt before. Though you’re in your alt mode, you can feel every piece and part of your body begging for relief.

Turning your tires, you know immediately that you’re stuck. Wrapped around a wooden pole holding up electrical lines, you look like the aftermath of a bad accident more than the victim of Decepticon torture.

“Calling all Autobots,” you stutter out.

“Hold on, Sparks,” someone answers before your radio crackles again and silences.

Smoke puffs from your tank and your exhaust, and you try to remain calm and ignore the pain threatening to render you unconscious. Time passes slowly but strangely, and the sun peeks over the hills before the first car appears on the road behind you. Hopefully, at the least, they’ll call the police, and Ratchet will intercept the notification.

“Sparks!”

“Ratchet?” you ask, prying your optics open once more.

“Oh,” he murmurs, transforming to walk around you. “Don’t move.”

“No problem,” you reply. “Thanks for coming.”

“My scrapes and dents don’t seem so bad now, huh?” Arcee asks gently.

“Still worried about you.”

“Of course you are.”

“Bee, send a message to Optimus,” Ratchet requests. “We need this road closed. And a way back to the warehouse.”

Bee chirps in reply, steps into your view, and does exactly what Ratchet asked, his bright blue optics steady on you and full of fear.

“Bradford, you look terrible,” Wade says, stepping out of his office.

“Thank you, sir,” Tim replies. “Just didn’t sleep very well. I’m feeling perfectly fine, though.”

“Good. Head to your house; dispatch just got a call about an illegally parked semi. I don’t need to know if you know the driver or if it’s yours, but it needs to be moved forthwith.”

“Yes, sir,” Tim answers, suddenly wide awake. “Chen, let’s go!”

Lucy follows him, struggling to keep up as he runs to the shop. “What’s the rush?”

“Semi parked illegally outside my house.”

Lucy’s eyes widen as she buckles her seatbelt, and they both allow their hopes to rise as Tim navigates the morning rush of Los Angeles.

Tim parks behind Optimus, turns his body camera off, and leaves it in the seat. Lucy does the same, then walks to the passenger door of Optimus’s big rig alt mode.

“Your laws discriminate vehicles based on size,” Optimus muses as he pulls forward.

“I’m hoping that the joke means there’s good news,” Lucy replies.

“We’ve located Sparks.”

“How is she? Where is she?” Tim asks quickly.

Optimus doesn’t answer, and Tim swears he can feel his heart in his throat as he swallows.

“Mr. Prime,” Lucy begins.

“You have work to do, no?” Optimus interrupts. “Perhaps you should focus on that until I have a solid answer for you.”

“How are we supposed to focus?” Tim snaps. “Is she alive?”

“She is,” Optimus answers. “At least for now. I only came to tell you, and now I must go.”

“Where?” Lucy asks.

“To assist my team in her recovery.”

“Then I’m coming too,” Tim says, reaching for the seatbelt.

“Not an option.”

“Grey will want to know where we are,” Lucy reminds Tim. “We’re still on shift.”

“And I need to move before I get a ticket,” Optimus adds. “Trust me, Tim.”

“Is… Okay. Fine.”

Tim opens the door and stands in the middle of his street to watch Optimus leave. After he rounds the corner and approaches a main road, Tim returns to the shop. Lucy knows it will be a long day and prepares to deal with Tim taking his fear and frustration out on her.

“Where was the off-road- Slashmark when we saw him yesterday?” Tim asks.

“Neighborhood a few miles east of the station,” Lucy answers. “Why?”

“Because we’re going to find him,” Tim answers, pulling the gear shift down into drive before he radios to check in.

“The boys in blue are here!” Bumblebee exclaims.

You hum, feeling your entire body rattling. Bee chirps, inching closer to you. He’s been lying beside you, trying to distract you from Ratchet’s prodding and pulling. You’re close to Bumblebee, more like brother and sister than teammates, and you appreciate his concern and willingness to stay at your side during such a trying time.

“Sparks,” Optimus sighs, slowing behind you. “Ratchet, how bad is it?”

“Slashmark did extreme damage to her chest plate, chassis, back strut, and thigh guard. And that was before they… wrapped her around the pole.”

“What if she just transformed?” Arcee suggests.

Ratchet hesitates before he asks, “Can you feel your T-Cog?”

“Yeah,” you answer softly. “I’m willing to try anything, Ratchet.”

“Okay,” he murmurs. “Give me a second.”

He scans your frame again, then runs his digits over the slashes carved into the metal of your body. You hear him kneel, feel the ground shake slightly, and barely manage to swallow your cry of pain when he touches your fuel lines, moving Energon rather than petroleum fuel.

“Ratchet, give us some good news,” Ironhide pleads. “You’re gonna be alright, Sparks,” he adds.

“Your lines are twisted,” Ratchet explains. “Give me a second to right them, and then you can try to transform. But only if you’re sure. Don’t take the risk if you don’t think you can do it.”

You nod, and Bumblebee looks up to communicate your answer. His eyes are steady on yours as Ratchet pulls your tangled fuel lines apart, sending white-hot pain through your metal joints. If only you were like Earth’s idea of robots, feeling no pain and serving a less noble purpose, you think.

“Sorry,” Ratchet says before he stands. “Slowly, whenever you’re ready.”

You activate your t-cog to transform, first pulling your doors forward. Each movement takes longer than usual, and you can hear the damaged metal scraping against your paint as you pull your pieces into place. When your chassis shifts and your pelvis slides into place, you stumble back, away from the pole. Ironhide steps behind you and catches you, his servos against your back plate as the rest of your friends surge forward to assist you.

“Where’s Tim?” you ask, lowering onto the bumper of the dry van trailer Optimus brought to transport you in.

“He and Lucy went back to work,” Optimus answers. “They’re safe.”

Your optics open and you push yourself to stand without thinking about the pain. “He’s going to look for the ‘cons from last night, we have to stop them.”

“He’s not that dumb,” Arcee counters. Her optical ridge lifts as she adds, “Is he?”

“I’ll send him a message,” Ratchet says. “But only if you get in the trailer and prepare for treatment.”

“Right,” you sigh. “Thank you, all of you.”

“Roll out,” Optimus instructs as you lie down in the 53-foot-long trailer and feel Ratchet pull a cord across your ankle guard to stop you from moving too much. Optimus is a good driver, but each little shake of the trailer worsens your pain, so before the first turn, you close your optics and dream of Cybertron.

“Trailer is owned by Benjamin Peterson, who is apparently a law-abiding citizen and a backer of the blue,” Lucy reads. “So, if we can’t move in for the trailer, what do we do?”

“We have reason to believe the trailer has been stolen,” Tim reminds her.

“But we can’t prove that Slashmark isn’t Peterson’s,” Lucy argues. “I don’t want to remind you that we were temporary but unknowing owners of a Decepticon.”

“Why are you making this so hard?” Tim demands, turning toward Lucy. “One of our own was taken because of this thing, and you want to make excuses for why we should leave it here and let it happen again?”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Lucy replies, keeping her voice level because she knows Tim isn’t mad at her. “But if we rush in because we’re mad, we could make this much worse than it already is.”

Tim’s phone buzzes, and he shakes his head as he lifts it from the center console. “Ratchet,” he tells Lucy. “Said they’re taking Sparks back to the warehouse and we need to get away from Slashmark.”

“It’s almost lunch, we could go see her,” Lucy suggests.

Looking up, Tim’s eyes widen before something crashes into the front bumper of the shop.

“Go, drive!” Lucy yells, gripping the door and the side of her seat as she pushes back into her seat.

Tim pulls the gear shift down, presses the gas pedal to the floor, and looks over his shoulder to reverse down the street. Lucy hits the switch for the lights and sirens, then yelps in surprise when Tim moves one hand off the wheel and uses the other to steer into a J-turn. Without slowing, he pulls the gear shift up again and drives forward, turning onto a main road.

“What was that?” Lucy asks, her voice high and terrified.

“Slashmark,” Tim answers. “And he’s still behind us.”

Lucy turns in her seat and watches Slashmark chase them.

“I’m going to slow down in a mile,” Tim says. “I need you to tuck and roll, then come up with an excuse about why I’m driving a wrecked shop.”

“What? No! I’m not leaving you.”

“I have to get him out of the city, but I can’t exactly stop and ask him to take it out back, can I, Chen?”

“Then I’m going with you.”

“7-Adam-100, check-in,” Wade radios. “System shows your body cams are off.”

“Sir, this is Officer Chen, our body cams were damaged.”

“Both of them?” Wade asks.

Lucy stares at the wide slash mark spanning the hood of the shop and answers, “Yes, sir.”

“Divert back to the station then.”

“Um…”

Tim pulls the radio out of Lucy’s hand and says, “Sir, I’m going to ask you to trust me for a few hours. We’ll be back later.”

Before Wade can reply, Tim turns the radio off.

“We need a new ride,” he tells Lucy.

“Like that one?” Lucy asks, pointing to a large black truck merging in front of them.

Tim accelerates, pulling into the left lane until he’s beside Ironhide. The driver’s door disappears, and the metal extends from the bottom of the door in a makeshift ramp.

“Chen, go,” Tim demands.

“What about you?” she asks, unbuckling her seatbelt.

“I’m right behind you. Go!”

Lucy crawls out of the shop’s window, steps onto the ramp, and jumps into the driver’s seat. Ironhide transforms his door and then speeds up. Tim pulls into the lane behind him, keeping a distance between the shop and Slashmark. When Ironhide turns onto a long, dead-end street separating businesses, Tim accelerates to drive beside Ironhide’s passenger door. Just as Lucy had, he climbs through the window and enters Ironhide. With Tim seated and his door back in place, Ironhide steers into a U-turn and drives through a dirt lot.

Tim and Lucy cover their ears when a sound like metal crushing fills Ironhide’s cab.

“Hope you weren’t attached to that car,” Ironhide grumbles.

Tim and Lucy look in the side mirrors, their eyes widening when they see the remains of their shop in the middle of the road and Slashmark nowhere to be seen.

“How’s Sparks?” Lucy asks Ironhide.

“The truth?”

“Please,” Tim replies.

“Not good.”

“Did that hurt?” Ratchet asks, stopping with a tool poised over your mid-section plating.

“No, it felt amazing,” you joke. “It’s fine, Ratchet, do what you need to do.”

Your view of the warehouse ceiling is suddenly blocked by a paint swatch, and you watch it sparkle in the light as Bumblebee leans toward you.

“Closer,” you hum. “It looks too red. Darker, maybe.”

Bee chirps, pulls the swatch away, and tries again to find the perfect paint color for you. Your paint is the least of your worries now, but Bee wanted to help, and Ratchet was grumpy enough without having someone hovering while he worked. Ironhide left to find Slashmark, and Arcee is covering the evidence that anyone ran into the pole in the desert. Your family didn’t hesitate to jump to action for you, and you’ve never been more grateful for them.

“It will be an ambush,” Optimus says.

“No doubt,” Bee agrees.

“They assumed you’d be angry – maybe even that I’d be dead,” you reply. “Only reason they sent the transmission, asked to meet.”

“Which I traced, but Soundwave has a sense of humor and it’s not a real place,” Ratchet complains.

“How are you feeling?” Optimus asks.

“Much better,” you reply.

He steps into your vision, looming above you from your position on Ratchet’s medical table.

“You’re not any better at lying,” he chides.

“I’ll be fine,” you amend. “Thank you.”

Ironhide’s engine revs as he enters the warehouse, and you smile up at Optimus.

“Always one to make an entrance,” he murmurs.

“Found some hitchhikers,” Ironhide announces, his doors opening.

Before you can speak, Tim and Lucy are at your side, gazing wide-eyed at the damage.

“Come here often?” you joke.

“Tell me you’re going to do something about this,” Tim says to Optimus.

“Are you okay?” Lucy asks you softly.

You nod, listening to Optimus explain why you must choose your battles. Tim is angry, his emotions urge him to be vindictive, and you understand. But you also know that retaliation and revenge are useless and dangerous when it comes to Decepticons.

“It’s been handled,” you interrupt.

“Then why did Slashmark just total my shop?!” Tim demands.

“If you’re here for any reason other than to check on your guardian,” Optimus begins, “save it for another time.”

Tim looks at you, and his eyes soften. He’s been worried about you all night, and when you wink your optic, he shakes his head and chuckles.

“You’re alright?” he asks.

“I will be. Thank you.”

Ratchet pulls a cable near your spark, and you grip the metal table beneath you tightly as air rushes into your vents. Suddenly, the pain lessens, and you sit up, despite Ratchet’s warnings against doing so.

“I remember something,” you offer. “Wildride mentioned that Starscream left his wing in the canyon. I thought it was a metaphor or something, but what if it was literal? He’s tried undermining Megatron before… If Starscream found something in the desert to use against Earth, we could use it against the ‘cons.”

“They said he left his wing? Not lost,” Ratchet clarifies.

“Right.”

“I can scan the area for Energon, try to locate a minimal amount.”

“Worth trying,” Arcee adds.

You stretch your arms over your head and twist, sighing at the relief you feel. The weld marks and scars spanning your frame will soon be covered by paint, but they’ll always be there.

“You’re missing something,” Optimus muses.

“I am?” you mutter, looking for a missing piece in your armor.

Optimus places an Autobot insignia on your chest plate, and you smile at him in thanks. When you stand, Bumblebee steps forward and hugs you tightly.

“I know, Bee,” you soothe, patting his back. “I was scared too.”

Optimus places his servo on your shoulder, and covers Bee’s too, before he speaks.

“Our fight to safeguard Earth from the threats of the Decepticons continues, but may we never forget that our own people have beliefs and freedoms to be guarded. To Sparks.”

“To Sparks!” your friends exclaim.

“To Sparks,” Tim adds, smiling up at you.

Bumblebee offers Tim a paint sample, and he holds it up to the light.

“Perfect,” Lucy says.

“Oh, we’re in trouble,” Lucy mumbles as Tim enters the station lot.

Sergeant Grey is standing by the door, his arms crossed, and a stern look on his face to accompany the lecture to come.

“Good luck,” you whisper, shifting into park for them.

“Are the Autobots hiring, if this doesn’t go well?” Tim deadpans.

“Only if you’re willing to be paid in joyrides and Energon.”

Lucy steps out of the car first, an apology ready. Tim walks around your front bumper and stops in front of Wade.

“You’re alive,” Wade says.

“Yes, sir,” Tim answers.

“And you didn’t think to let anyone know. Just left the mangled shop in a heap on the road.”

“Sorry, sir.”

Wade raises his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing the tightening muscle there as he sighs.

“Sergeant Grey,” Lucy begins.

“I don’t want to know,” he interrupts, moving his hand off his neck and raising it toward Lucy. “I trust the two of you. More than I should, maybe. So, I’m going to write this off. You’re going to get another shop – which you will not wreck – and we’ll move on.”

“Thank you, sir,” Tim says. “We appreciate the confidence.”

“Yeah… Whose car is this?”

Lucy smiles at Tim after Wade steps between them to look at the dark red, slightly sparkly Mustang.

“Friend of mine,” Tim answers.

“A beauty,” Wade muses, rounding the front.

Your right blinker winks and Tim glances at Lucy knowingly.

“5.2-liter engine?” Wade inquires.

“Predator V8,” Tim answers.

Wade whistles, and he shakes his head as he says, “What I’d give for one of these.”

You wink again, and Tim offers, “If you want to borrow her for a date night or something, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Her?” Wade repeats. “Never took you for a car guy, Bradford.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Lucy interjects, smiling as she pats your hood.

[jaggedamethyst]

circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part four)

tutor!jayce talis x reader, ekko x reader college au

content: jayce ghosts you when you need him most...so you have no choice but to lean on your best friend, ekko

pining, mental health mentions, neurodivergence, lmk if i missed any!

notes: ekko pic...omg... (you may think this series is going slow but i hate a slow burn ass fic that has them fucking chapter three don't pmo...also this evolved way past just jayce and i need to do ekko justice...bc some of yall don't, clocked it)

word count: 2.9k

series masterlist

⭑·ﾟﾟ·*:༅。.。༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅。.。༅:*·ﾟﾟ·⭑

“Do you know that girl Jayce is always with?” 

You arrived to class, ready to learn—but not about physics truthfully. You expected to cut corners, create friendly conversation about nothing, humor Viktor. When you got there, though, you had to ask him immediately. 

“Mel Medara?” Viktor looked to you with intrigue. “I know of her…but not much about her.” He leaned to his left, toward you, “Why?” 

“She’s just always…around? And we spoke to each other once but I was in a hurry…didn’t get much chance for a formal introduction.” 

“Are you certain that your intrigue is rooted purely in your inquisitive nature…or is there another reason you want to share?” 

“No-“ 

The sound of the door towards the front of the class opening interrupted you—it was perfect timing, actually. You would rather not have to unpack why Mel’s presence bothered you so much; truthfully it was an inexplicable feeling. Someone walked in, and you sat up straighter. 

“Hi, everyone! My name is Caitlyn, some of you may know me if you’ve ever been to the student resource center.” She smiled at you, exchanging a look of recognition. “I wanted to formally introduce myself… I will be joining as a TA. If you need anything and can’t get ahold of the professor, you can ask me your course related questions.” She moved to plug a laptop into the projector, “Here is my email for future reference.” She allowed some time for people to copy and take photos of her email down. “Unfortunately, today’s class will be canceled for an emergency…but I was instructed to relay to you that the quiz will still be held next week. It’ll be on vectors and calculating their angles. Be sure to refresh yourselves over the weekend and reach out to me should you have any questions.” People started to shuffle around her, getting up to leave class. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, guys. Feel free to use the space to get some other work done, or leave early.” 

“What the fuck, this was such a waste of my time.” You glanced back towards the board, making sure you got the email address right. “I have been so tired I could be sleeping right now.” 

“I’m sorry, I know you have a lot to deal with right now.” Viktor moved to the end of the aisle, grabbing his cane while slinging his bag over one shoulder. “At least you’ve been in tutoring. The quiz this week should be easier, right?” 

“That’s the thing,” you reached for your phone, “We’ve only just got to vectors so far. That was hard enough.” You hovered your finger over Jayce’s contact, never actually having messaged him. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you started texting him. 

hi jayce 

im sorry to bother you but i have my quiz next week and its gonna be on more stuff than we got to in our sessions

do you have any time to meet with me this weekend? if not thats ok, i can ask my friend

You paused, walking behind Viktor without looking up from the phone screen. 

i just need you

No, you shook your head, continuing the text. 

i just need your help

lmk

ty 

You grimaced at the text bubbles, hating how you split all of that up. You imagined his annoyed face, seeing all of these desperate messages. You wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t answer. You wouldn’t answer you. 

Viktor turned to you, “Are you alright?” 

“Yes, just frustrated and irritated and angry…thats all.” 

“That’s not a great combination.” 

You shook your head. Without trying, Viktor could always cheer you up. “Unrelated, but did Jayce ask you about what snacks I eat?” 

“He did,” he looked over at you, “It was odd. He said something about ‘reinforcements’ for your guys’ tutoring session.” 

“Oh...okay.” 

Viktor would call himself a lot of things, including perceptive. He didn’t say much, but he noticed the way your eyes lingered on one another when you first met. He was aware of the way you spoke about each other, especially when it was just Viktor around. He simply arched a brow at you, observing your concerned look at the phone screen. 

“Maybe you should take the weekend to rest and recuperate.” 

“I would…but the quiz-“ 

“Just for today. Wait for Jayce to get back to you. Then you can focus solely on next week.” He nodded reassuringly. 

He returned the nod, liking the sound of the plan. 

If only Jayce had bothered to answer. 

——————

“Hi.” 

“Come on in.” Ekko stepped back, letting you into his dorm. 

“I know it’s so last minute, but I know nothing about angles …figured you could help.” 

“I absolutely can help and would love to.” 

You sat your stuff down, getting comfortable as you’d done dozens of times before. You turned a corner, washing your hands at the sink before heading to grab a throw blanket from Ekko's bed. 

He knew your habits, calling from the living room area. “I have the heated blanket out here, too, if you wanna use that one. Know you get cold.” 

You exited his room, wearing the slippers you left under his bed. “Once again, you are the best…because I am, in fact, freezing my ass off right now.” 

“Want something to drink?” 

“Always.” 

The two of you were so in sync—it had to be that way after Powder. It became worse when Vi blamed you, suspecting one of you said something to her to make her disappear. Even though you know you did nothing wrong, there was still a self-hate there. That you couldn’t be there for a friend who needed you—so much so that she left entirely. You couldn’t do that to Ekko, he felt the same. 

“So,” you pulled out the folder Jayce had given you, a slight frown on your face at the thought of him completely ignoring you. “I have this paper, its like a cheat sheet for vectors…but besides what Jayce told me I don’t know what to do. The TA said we also have to calculate the angles…that makes no sense.” 

Ekko grabbed his notebook, flipping to a blank sheet of paper. He sketched a makeshift drawing—surprisingly good for how quick he’d done it. You were always in awe of his artistic talent. 

“Okay, so here…is a light pole.” He moved his finger to the other side of the paper, motioning toward a little drawing of you, smiling on the sidewalk. “This is you.” 

“Wait I’m so adorable here!”

Ekko chuckled, side eyeing you a bit, “Yeah…” 

You snatched the pencil—quickly drawing in a stick figure of him. “This is you!” 

“Is it really? Couldn’t tell.” 

“Hey-“ You swatted his arm, “You’re identical in my opinion.” 

“If having lines for a body is identical…then sure. But anyways…not the point of my sketch.” He grabbed the pencil back, “Thank you very much.” He flipped the pencil, using the eraser side to show you the details. “Okay…light pole…you.” He smirked, knowing you wanted to interject. Ekko raised his hand before you could, “This is the distance between you and the pole.” He made up and wrote a random number in feet under the bottom, the same for the pole. “This is the height of the pole. This is all you need to find every angle and distance measurement.” 

The look on your face was one of pure confusion. “How does that make any sense whatsoever, Ekko?” You moved to close the book. “Actually, lets just watch a movie instead. I’m prepared to fail at this point.” 

Ekko grabbed the book from you, reopening it. “Well, I’m not, so let’s get to work.” 

He continued, explaining as best he could. It was no use, though, it just wasn’t making sense to you. You nodded, trying to get him to move on to something else. 

“Does that make sense?” 

“Yeah.” You reached to hug Ekko, “You’re the best.” Pulling back, you plastered on a smile, hiding the discomfort. You didn’t feel ready whatsoever. Suddenly, Ekko grabbed your hands, pulling your attention to him. 

“You’re gonna do great.” He lingered on you for a while, “Promise.” 

The doubt you felt made you want to hole up and skip class altogether. Eventually, it developed into a disdain for Jayce. When you thought about it, he was the reason you were going to fail…again. 

——————

You decided against skipping class on Monday, but you were definitely opting out of that damn tutoring session. If Jayce can’t answer a simple few texts, how were you to know you even had a standing appointment anymore. It made you feel less than worthy of a proper notice. Above all, it just felt plain unprofessional…he’s an employee after all. 

Walking into class and into this quiz felt like a walk to your execution. Midterms were quickly approaching, which meant you only had so many quizzes you could fail before the majority of your final grade was tainted by bad ones. 

Viktor greeted you as normal, moving over to give you a seat. “Are you prepared?”

“As best as I can be.” 

The beauty of college was that you did assessments in class and got the results as soon as you submitted. Knowing you would get your score back in the next few minutes had your stomach churning. An image of Jayce, carefree and nonchalant, popped into your head. Nothing was making sense. Reluctantly, you started choosing random answers—disregarding the calculator altogether. Before you knew it, your grade, a 56%, reflected back to you. 

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself. You closed your laptop, getting up to leave class early. “I’ll see you later, Viktor.” 

Before he could reply, you were gone. Pushing through the door. You grabbed your phone from your pocket, texting Ekko. 

im done early, wanna meet rn?

He replied a few seconds later.

omw 

You picked up the pace, not out of urgency, but in pure frustration. Everything you’d been working towards wasn’t paying off. The time you spent not being with Ekko—with Jayce—was a waste. 

When you arrived to the dining hall, Ekko wasn’t there yet. You took the time to grab both you and him something to eat for lunch. Within minutes, Ekko showed up, that warm smile on his face as usual. He leaned into you, giving you a side hug while simultaneously grabbing the food from you. 

“How was the quiz?” You didnt reply, simply giving him a side eye. “Damn…I’m sorry.” 

“Not your fault…but thanks for helping.” 

He’d seamlessly changed the subject—allowing the two of you to talk without the reminder of your failure that day. You didn’t acknowledge how fast the time had passed and truthfully, didn’t care. You hadn’t planned to show up to tutoring…much less give Jayce any notice. 

To your right, you suddenly heard a voice, interrupting you and Ekko. 

“Hey.” You looked over, seeing Jayce standing there. “I figured you’d be here.” He looks between you and Ekko, hands now on his hips. “You missed our session.” 

You raised a brow and crossed your arms over your chest. “Wow, really? Didn’t know we were still having those.” 

“Of course we are, you have those quizzes-“ 

“Had.” You interrupted, “There was one today. You’d know if you checked your phone.” 

He looked down, embarrassed at his phone sitting in his front pant pocket. 

“I’m sorry- I know this is important for you but something came up.” 

“What? What came up?” Ekko spoke up. 

Jayce turned to look at him, finally acknowledging his presence again. “Something personal,” he looked away, focusing back on you. “Can we talk alone?” 

Ekko spoke again, “Say what you need to say.” 

“I would, but I’m not talking to you.” 

A screech of Ekko’s chair resounded in the dining hall. You reached a hand out, gesturing toward them. “Ekko, please.” 

Ekko looked over to you and inhaled a deep breath. He was looking at Jayce again, but kept talking to you. “I’ll see you later, okay? Call if you need anything.” 

“Wait- Ekko-” 

Jayce gulped, sitting down across from you. You watched Ekko leave as Jayce took his seat, hands resting on the table. 

“What the hell is your problem? You ghost me then show up here with an attitude? I should be pissed…I am pissed! I failed because of you!” 

He nodded, knowing the weight of his being inaccessible. “I’m sorry.” 

“You said that.” 

“There was a personal thing, a family emergency-“

“And yet, your phone is still in working condition.”

You didn’t want to be insensitive, but it takes seconds to reply. A simple message would’ve sufficed. 

“My mom’s sick.” You froze—remembering that it’s just him and his mom. “She was in the hospital all weekend…it still hasn’t gotten better.” He paused, looking at you now, “I thought I owed you to at least show up today.” 

“Well…now I feel like shit.” 

“Don’t. Not your fault I didn’t tell you what was happening.” 

“Is there anything I can do?” 

“Hope she gets better?” 

You reached over, placing a comforting hand on his, “I can do that.” 

He let you linger there, before pulling back. “How about this week, since I messed up so bad with scheduling…we meet as much as you’d like just so you can be ready. Shit, it can be every day if you want.” He nodded, “We’re gonna make sure you pass this class if it’s the last thing I do.” 

“Are you sure? I can be pretty high maintenance…” 

He leaned back in his chair, a nonchalant yet playful look on his face, “Not worried about it.” 

“Okay.” You shrugged, “If you say so.” 

The pair of you exchanged smiles, not at all prepared for how tumultuous this week would be. 

part five

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