#i gotta draw more of em i gotta figure out how they work

[tksubby]

[zebratimw]

Spirit animal SQH

[bmpmp3]

I NEEED to go back to making art that makes it ABUNDANTLY clear that theres something wrong with my brain BUT NOT in a cool or stylishly interesting way. i need to do it in a way that makes people say "hm." and walk away

[2knightt]

↳my rhymes, my pen, my pad.₊˚✧

──IN WHICH, miles falls head over heels inlove!。✦

||✰ — 1610!miles morales x gn!reader.

you weren’t new to this school, you’ve been going for so long now. it got boring, nothing interesting ever happens there.

same preppy people walk in and out, always on time, always talking about the same stuff.

your teacher brought out a projector and put on some video.

you weren’t the slightest bit interested. you were drawing on the sides of your work sheet, drawing nonsense.

you heard the classroom door swing open and some kid, with papers and books flying all over the places stumbled in.

“you’re late, morales.”

morales, that’s new. you think to yourself as he stands in front of the projector, looking scared.

you stare at him longer, trying to see if you recognize him, but you don’t.

miles was scanning the classroom while trying to figure out what to say next, when his eyes met yours.

miles was—stunned to say the least.

you were gorgeous, even if you looked a little bit intimidating.

your hair framed your face just right, your lips looked soft, everything about you was just, breathtaking.

miles realized all eyes were on him and started to open his mouth without thinking.

“Einstein said time was relevant. maybe i’m not late, maybe you’re just early.”

he said, with a shrug and an awkward smile.

you smiled, you have to admit it.

what a dork, you thought to yourself as you heard a chuckle from the other side of the room.

you could tell he was embarrassed, he looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

to which, he did.

miles looked for any sort of reaction in you, but all he got was a smile.

that smile was all he could think about as he sat next to this blond haired girl.

was it a good smile? or was it a bad smile?

were you making fun of him? did you think he was funny?

you had filled his thoughts, without even knowing.

before miles knew it, he was walking to his uncles house.

he had pulled out his phone, took a picture of his uncle, and sent it to him.

aaron laughed, opening the window as miles pushed his face against it.

his uncle welcomed him in, seating miles next to him on the couch.

“whatchu want? is it romantic troubles?”

“h-how’d you know?! what’re you, a wizard?”

aaron chuckled at his nephew, and started to push him for more questions.

“well, what’re they like? do you know ‘em? what’s their name?”

miles just stared at his uncle.

he didn’t know.

he didn’t know your name, how you act, or anything.

he only knows your smile, and that alone was enough to make him like you.

god that’s so embarrassing.

“i uh, dunno.”

“whatchu mean you don’t know?”

aaron asks, laughing immediately after.

he thought it was so funny that miles didn’t know shit about you!

“well—it was a uh, love at first sight typa thing. you get it, right? right?!”

miles started to play with his fingers, he didn’t know why he was so nervous to talk about you.

“how do i start a conversation with them?”

aaron looks down and shakes his head, like miles just asked the stupidest question ever.

“you just gotta do the ol’ shoulder touch, man.”

“what’s that?”

miles asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

his uncle chuckles, looking down before gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

he looks up and with the most smug voice miles has ever heard says,

“hey.”

miles started to laugh, like he wasn’t allowed to laugh anywhere else.

“so like, hey.”

he said, mocking his uncle.

the two of them started laughing like there was no tomorrow.

but unfortunately for miles, there was.

he saw you in the halls, so he took the opportunity to run up to you.

“h-hey, wait!”

you heard the shouting come from behind you.

you looked behind you and you couldn’t recognize the guy off the bat but nonetheless, you listened.

he stopped right in front of you, crouching down with his hands on his knees like he had just run a marathon.

he finally stood up after what seemed like hours.

he looked at you dead in your eyes, and you have to be honest, you kinda got uncomfortable with his stare.

he looked nervous just staring at you. jeez, you weren’t that scary, were you?

he slowly placed a hand on your shoulder, and looked like he was trying to, i don’t know, look cool?

“hey.”

you giggled at his poor attempt to start a conversation with you.

you didn’t mean to, it was just—hard not to!

“hey. do i, know you or something?”

miles started to panic, he didn’t think it’d go this far!

“i-uh-yeah! we have science together! i’m miles morales.”

“oh! lovely to finally meet you morales. i’m y/n.”

you said, sticking your hand out for him to shake.

he looked at it for a second and took your hand.

y/n, what a cute name. miles thought to himself as the bell rung.

“ugh, it’s so loud for no reason.”

you complained, letting go of his hand.

“yeah, i know right.”

“well—i’ll see you ‘round, miles.”

you said, walking away while waving.

miles just nodded and waved back. he could tell he looked like a loser, he could feel his muscles all tense as he waved back.

when you were out of sight, he finally relaxed.

he finally talked to you, and he got your name!

miles has got to tell uncle aaron about this later!

thank u guys for 200 followers i might cry

[brawlstars-dragon-au]

Sketch dump time! A whole bunch of requests from the crazy ex-bird app

In Order: Maisie, Pam, Colette, Buster, Chester, Chuster ❤️🧡 (and a teeny Gus), Leon and Sandy (Leondy 💚💜), Bull, El Primo, and Mandy!

Extra notes about each sketch:

Maisie:

Her breath attack is a condensed foam material, similar to that of a fire extinguisher. Using a gas similar to a pressurized CO² (based on gas-based fire extinguishers!), she shoots it out at high speeds. These hits can potentially cause frostbite and even severe damage to the body if left unattended. She's quite powerful in this AU due to this ability 👀👀 being able to put out the fires and overpower another dragon's breath? Now THAT'S some queen moves right there! She can also simply spray out the foam substance at short range without that pressurized gas. This helps with more close range fire fighting work.

Her right wing and front leg were undeveloped, a disability she'd had since she hatched. However! With the help of mechanics, she uses these prosthetics to help her fly. Still gotta test out how to draw it to make sense, as well as sort out how it stays in place. I've been using inspiration from Toothless (HTTYD) and his tail that Hiccup made.

Pam:

Pam is a bulkier dragon, very much on the larger side of all of them. I'm at odds with myself to figure out whether ot not she'll have wings 🤔 so I had two copies there! Perhaps her wings may be a bit smaller if I do give her them.

Pam spits out molten magma that's stored up inside her as an attack. However, it can also be chunks of scrap metal that she stores up. Otherwise, it's just magma.

Though I didn't draw this, I want Pam to be very resilient to fire in general, as her species/family of dragon use their ability to spew this magma (technically Lava after ut leaves her body? I'll do more research on this...) in order to craft and shape metal. While other dragons need to spend some time to build up a fire hot enough, the Junker family line is able to do this much more easily. (Amber is a close second, though)

Her skin has the ability to crack and seep up lava out of it, potentially coating her body in this to give herself a temporary lava shield, something extremely hard to break through. (In the future, little Jessie may also be able to do this... however, Pam doesn't think she's ready at the moment and avoids the topic or any ideas of teaching her how.)

Colette:

Colette flies in a sort of funny way, twirling around and flapping her wings to maintain somewhat of a chaotic flight pattern. Think of a snake slithering through the sky, but with large wings and the grace of... a teenage dragon (not much, but it does work).

When she gets better at flying...pray and hope she isn't able to catch up to her favourite brawlers cause she isn't ever gonna let go of them 💀 It makes for a great attack, actually! Charging at enemies and coiling around them like a snake to prevent movement, like a big hug ❤️ she just loves everyone SO much 😍

Buster:

Finally kinda set on a design for this funky guy! He's a larger dragon (smaller than El Primo or Frank, but still definitely up there in size)

His wings never quite grew fully, so he wouldn't be able to fly 😔 however, that'll never stop him and his dreams of being a cool movie star 🧡🧡

Buster, at the heart of it, is an unstoppable force when he sets his mind to something. He'll charge in with the same ferocity as his favouite protagonists, rivalling the audacity and hard-headed nature of even Bull! All while doing so for his friends 💪 we love Buster in this AU frfr

Chester:

Chester always has theatrics when he flies. Flips, spins, and fun aerodynamic movements up in the sky! He's gotta compensate for his lack of speed compared to other wyverns after all, but he thinks he's pretty great 😎

Loved drawing this kinda unique pose tbh! That's what I loved with these drawings, I got to experiment without really thinking too much for em with how polished and clean that look. It was very fun! 🔥

Chuster ft. Gus❤️🧡:

We love some goofy gays here 🥹❤️🧡 I just wanted to let em have a little nuzzle + smooch! Dragons don't necessarily kiss, but little side boops like this are the equivalent of a cheek kiss.

Also, a little Gus on the side 🥹🥹 I love this sort of found family dynamic that have! Buster being the cool dad vibe/big bro to Gus, and then Buster being in a relationship with Chester so that he's also a cool dad too 😎 Gus loved these two guys from the very start, they're funny 🤭 never a boring day for these silly lads.

Leondy 💚💜:

My beloveds 🤲 I really do cherish the ship, as well as strong friendship Sandy and Leon have. (Btw in my HCs, Leon and Sandy are 13 & 14 respectively, just to clear that up!)

Sandy, I've mentioned a few times, is very inspired by Capybaras, so Leon finding one is just perfect 🤭 silly little deadpan face lads.

Bull:

BULLDOZERRRR- What a lad! Bull is inspired by- uh, Bulls! Great creatures, large bodies and thick necks to support those headstrong charges 🐂 I love making his posture all confident, strong steps to say, "Yeah. You TRY and stand up to me. I DARE you." Don't wanna mess with him on most days 🏃‍♀️💨💨

El Primo:

Still figuring out a full-body for El Primo, bit he's roughly the same size as Bull! (Maybe a bit bigger)

El Primo has got really small wings, similar to his El Dragón skin. Even his scales and horns are inspired by that mostly! Love when characters have preexisting dragon themed skins 🤭 makes it a lot easier to make ideas!

His "mask" is actually just body paint. He has similar paint on his body, really showing off the vibrant colours and persona he puts on for the crowds.

He WILL beat up his enemies into a pulp in matches. Thank goodness there's the gem powered regeneration and the respawn system in place 😭 I plan to give him a very strong body and tail, enough to support him when he needs to go on his hind legs and overpower his opponents. Buster is designed in a similar way as well!

Mandy:

Last but not least, the Queen of Candy herself. Not even the Dragon AU let's her escape fast food work 😔😔

Her super attack is purely a magical sugar-based rainbow blast, as shown in the sketch. Also, I'm now realizing that I forgot her red spots oml- No wonder she looks so empty 💀 uhh sorry about that, lads 😭 I'll redraw her one day to show off that glowing effect of her spots 🥹🥹

And that's all! Thank you for reading if you made it this far! Hopefully I can make more of these sketch dumps 🤭✨️ maybe take reqs from here too! We shall see. Take care y'all!

[13thdoodle]

[ ECTOBERHAUNT 2023 BANNER ]

I'm doing the banner for this year's @ectoberhaunt event~ The theme is Science vs Magic

I had so much fun making this~ Sam get the fantasy AU fit while Tucker gets Cyber/futuristic style

Sketch Progress

I like the idea of Sam being a druid bc nature connection tm

And Tucker would vibe very well with fancy future stuffs. i was gonna draw him with a bigger puffer but I couldn't figured it out. I like the one we got here too so yay

Okay so I was a bit pressed on time while working on this so I couldn't do as much research and references as I should.

On Sam's part, the somewhat floating book was inspired on how genshin impact's catalysts have their books/weapon just floats and it looks fancy n magical n Sam deserve that honestly

Her glowing tattoo are highkey inspired of this beautiful Sam with tattoos art by @the-stove-is-on-fire Mine is nowhere close to that but that's my main inspiration for this

I was gonna give Tucker his usual orange sweater but I noticed a lot of neon or cyberpunk outfit relies on dark backdrop to pop.

And since the background color is gonna be bright yellow, I gotta put the dark color somewhere else. And his sweater would be the perfect spot to balance out all the brightness with a bit of darkness

And it matches with Sam too so it works out great uwu

The magic circles on their back were mostly there to balance out the composition bc it looks too empty as is, gotta spice it up a lil bit uwu But a direct halo would look.. too out there? I mean I can but like.. Sam is magic/fantasy based, why not lean on that n go for magic circles :D

Tucker's random bits on the background took the most out of me bc like.. its hard qwq I literally try to look up aesthetic bg to figure out how to work with his?? Eventually I just settle on less is more and added shadow under the bits to make em pops out against the orange

source

And for the color choices, I wanted the two of them to have purple, yellow, and green on them. The green color on to symbolize Danny bc I'm an Everlasting Trio shipper lmao

I wanted Sam to have some yellow and green on her magic, which kinda.. got covered with the whites honestly. But the greens stays with the vines so we'll go with that Tucker was harder to figure out, so I settle with him with blue and greens instead of purple qwq

In the end, only the green end up staying lmao It ends up unifying both sides so hell yea it all works out lol

[rocksibblingsau]

Actually, honest question on Chaz cause being the only Smooth Jazz troll we ever see, has some semi lonely implications. And the actual idea of Chaz, whose people may be very very very nomadic and feeling very out of place in spaces, and t!Branch also feeling out of place and just....genuinely bonding over vibing together, talking bout dangerous stuff, ways to keep safe....like I could honestly see them just....intimate together, not even hot and nasty, just lowkey vibing while really physically close. Like knowing the other gets them, removes some kind of physical boundary and they just....can't stop touching each other, like holding hands, or arms, or laying on the other, or messing with their hair. Just super intimate stuff, but also like....completely platonic? and then Synth being their energetic enabler and respecter of boundaries makes his way in and suddenly its either Synth and Branch, Branch and Chaz, Synth and Chaz or if all of em are in the same place, Synth Branch Chaz and everyone is busy trying to figure out...the everything, but its literally what you see is what you get. Just pure powerful Best Friends who looked at Boundaries and Respectfully stepped all the way over for each other in the best way. All getting used to touch and companionship in a different way. Branch getting more comfortable in his skin with people who don't judge him nor blame him, and being comfy expressing his want for touch and physical affection. Chaz also enjoying the physical affection with the actual emotional weight and understanding that these touches mean something more than just the physical, emotional grounding weight he craves. Synth enjoying the calmest slowest vibes and how its ok to slow down, and learning to enjoy a longer drawn out sensation than a constant build towards a drop, and this one doesn't really have to end, so he can really slow down and enjoy it. Its good for them, and they don't really give it too much attention past what it requires. Its the best kind of Mindless Affection, cause its fully conscious, fully consensual and fully enjoyed as it is.

This is actually so sweet???

According to Chaz in the episode 'Smooth Operator', Chaz is the only Smooth Jazz Troll. While he might have been lying for sympathy, I'd fully believe that he is a sub-genre that broke off from Jazz itself, which may be somewhere in the world of Trolls.

I think Chaz being the only Smooth Jazz Troll would explain why in the "noncanon" media like Trollstopia and Remix Rescue he's obsessed with turning other Trolls into Smooth Jazz Trolls, because there are NO other members of his genre. That's gotta be incredibly lonely and I think Techno Branch would sort of understand how it feels to be the odd one out as he was a grey troll amongst Pop trolls and he's a Pop troll amongst Techno trolls.

While in Remix Rescue, Chaz not wanting his music remixed is shown to be because he doesn't care for any other genre, I could see Chaz being protective of his genre because his songs are the ONLY songs of it. Not only that, but any art student might know the feeling of making a piece they really like, only for their art teacher to draw on it and 'fix' it. Chaz would prefer his songs stay unremixed, and I think Branch would respect that. He'd ask Chaz how he'd like for people to incorporate Smooth Jazz into their genres and Chaz would likely say if they wrote their own take on Smooth Jazz then that would likely be okay. He's extra protective because his genre is quite literally in its infancy. It doesn't have hundreds of years worth of artists and songs for people to be drawing this inspiration from or remixing since it's old and popular, it's just him. One guy.

Synth initially wanted to remix his music, but when he hears Chaz's reasoning he can't fault him for being protective of his hard work. I think Synth would ask if he'd ever want to make a song with the intention of it being sampled, or letting him record bits to use. Chaz would probably need to think it over but until then he's open to coaching Synth on the structures of his genre.

All of this to say...

Techno Branch could fix him.

[clemblog]

Caine’s Lesson - Part 7

•

Gummigoo wasn't kidding when he said his Ma's food was good. Caine's food from that one evening after the gloinks couldn't compare. It was full of so much more flavour and taste.

"Penny for your thoughts, Poms?" Grinned Gummigoo, coming to sit across from her with his own bowl.

"You weren't kidding when you said it was good-" Mused Pomni, sheepishly.

He chuckled at such.

"We don't lie round these parts Poms, you'll learn that quick if you stick with us."

"I-It'll be fun to see!" Smiled Pomni, shyly with a hum. "So... When do you wanna do the uh shooting practice?"

"Ah yeah! I figured once we've eaten, I'll speak to Ma real quick and then we can get started! Sound good to you?"

"T-That sounds good to me-"

"Snazzy."

The two continued to eat happily with occasional words of conversation, mostly happy to just exist aside one another.

It was the peace Pomni had been wanting for the last few days.

It was the peace Gummigoo hadn't known he'd needed for the last few weeks.

The pair were soon headed over to a little clearing by the main ranch house. It was surrounded by fencing and had a few shabby targets nailed together at the end.

"Welcome to Pa's shooting range, Poms." Grinned Gummigoo. "This is where I learned to shoot, and now it's where you'll learn too!"

"I-I'm excited to learn!" Beamed Pomni, sheepishly.

"I'm glad to hear that! Now come stand here."

Pomni moved to stand in front of the mark. She looked up and saw she was stood inline with the centre target.

"First, we'll work on accuracy!"

He moved to stand behind her and crouched down. He tenderly placed his pistol into her hands, making sure to position her hands on the right position.

"Now, this is how you hold ya pistol! Try to hold it like this as much as you can, otherwise the force back from after you shoot can hurt ya hand. And you don't wanna do that, trust me, I learnt from experience."

"N-Noted! Hold the gun safely- As much as you can-"

He hummed at this approvingly with a nod. "Now, what you wanna do is line up this little eye piece right about here on the target."

He slowly moved her aim into position.

"You would think to aim here, right? Well, these bad boys are different! Pa made em on an angle, so wild shots have a higher chance of being accurate. Does mean however that every casual shot you take is gotta be on an angle."

“Right..” Nodded Pomni, slowly.

“Now all you gotta do is click here.” He hummed softly, guiding her hand with his atop it to the trigger.

*Bang!*

Pomni had successfully shot a gun!

“I did it!” She grinned, looking up to Gummigoo.

“You sure did Pommy!” He hummed, returning the grin. “You were so close to a bullseye but hey, practice makes perfect, aye?”

“Definitely!”

He helped her take a few more shots, only sitting back to watch when Pomni felt confident enough to shoot on her own. She was picking up the skill amazingly fast! It was natural talent Gummigoo hadn’t seen in a while- He most definitely would have to talk to Ma about making Poms her own gun. He watched the way she’d flinch back a little from the force of his gun. If she had one accustomed to her, he had a hunch she’d be shooting better than Max and Chad in no time!

Ma was awfully busy though with all the Candy Kingdom Citizens, so he figured he might as well take some time in the next evening to make Pomni a gun! That way she would be well equipped to join himself, Max and Chad on scouting adventures.

So, that’s what he set off to do! Leaving Poms to her practice.

•

Zooble was sat watching Gangle draw in her notebook when Kinger and Ragatha came over.

“H-Hi you guys!” Squeaked Gangle, softly in her usual tone.

“Hey.” Nodded Gangle.

“Hello!” Smiled Ragatha, gently. “Is it okay if we join you? Kinger thought it may be a good idea if I hung out with you guys for a bit to try and get my mind off Pomni-“

“O-Oh sure!” Nodded Gangle.

The two sat down.

A content silence fell over the group, the only sound being the scratch of Gangle’s pencil. After a few minutes work, she ripped out a page and handed it out to Ragatha.

“I-I know you’re sad about Pomni s-so I figured I might do you a drawing of her so it feels like she’s still with you!” She explained, sheepishly.

Ragatha was quiet for a few minutes looking over the sketch of her with Pomni.

“…GANGLE THIS IS SO SWEET OF YOU-“

Gangle squeaked as she was pulled into a crushing hug by Ragatha, her happy mask flung off but was caught by Zooble luckily.

“Gosh! I’ll have to make you something in return- This is to perfect Gangle!” Beamed Ragatha.

“O-Oh! Alright-“ Smiled Gangle, sheepishly as Zooble gently placed her happy mask back onto her face.

“You tell me what you want and I’ll get on it! Or I can make it a surprise-“

“A surprise could be fun-“ Murmured Gangle, shyly.

“A surprise it is then!”

Zooble put an assuring arm around Gangle sensing her growing anxiety from being overwhelmed by Ragatha’s sudden excitement.

Things weren’t perfect right now, but at least they had each other!

Part 8

[guess-my-next-obsession]

In The Cold, Cold Night: Chapter One

pairing: cowboy/frontier!joel miller x oc (Dorothea) / unrequited tommy miller

rating: M (talks of death, bordellos, gender constructs, other wild west things, tommy is a cocky flirt)

wc: 7.2k

series masterlist | playlist

It was a hot and dry spring in Texas, the corn fields out in front of the Mackey family farmhouse dying underneath the brutal and unforgiving sun. John Mackey, the patriarch of his small, humble family, tried his best to conceal his worry over the season’s meager harvest, but his wife, Jessa, and his eldest child, Dorothea, or Dottie as her family called her, had a unique ability to see right through his hardened exterior to the vulnerable, frightened man inside.

Although she was a grown woman, her twenty-fourth birthday passing just seven months prior, Dorothea chose not to venture out from her parent’s watch like all the other girls in their small town had done years before. She liked the predictability of home—the sound of her father’s work boots hitting the hardwood after a long day in the field, the smell of her mother’s cooking, the loud chatter of her five younger brothers as they ran around the house and farm like they were wild animals. Though a part of her did crave more, it was a small enough part that she could ignore, fixing her brown eyes instead on taking care of the things she already had.

“Daddy!” James, the youngest of the clan at only six years, came hurtling into the kitchen as his father sat at the dinner table sipping on a fresh cup of black coffee, Jessa Mackey and Dorothea standing at the sink scrubbing this morning’s dishes. “Look what the lady at the store gave me and Ed.”

“Let me see what’cha got,” the gruff man said, lowering his cup and newspaper to the tabletop as he fixed his attention on his son.

James wore a wide, boyish grin as he reached into the front pocket of his dirty, denim overalls and pulled out a burlap sack, his tiny fingers pulling the drawing string loose so that he could dump out the contents on top of his father’s morning news.

“Well, what’s all this, now?” John said, catching a few of the tiny glass spheres as they began to roll off the uneven table.

“Marbles,” he said, full of wonder and excitement. “She even taught me how to play with ‘em.”

“Can you teach me?” he asked, setting the handful of marbles into the little boy’s hand.

“I forgot,” he smiled bashfully. “But Eddie—“

“I didn’t ask Eddie, now did I?” John smiled back. “Come on, figure it out. You learned once, you can remember.”

“Oh, will you leave him be,” Jessa scolded lightly, chuckling at her husband’s insistence as she walked over, drying her hands on a cloth before throwing it over her shoulder. “Where’s your brother?”

“Outside playin’ with Sarah,” James said, looking up at his mother with round eyes as she carded her fingers through his dust-covered brown hair.

“Who’s Sarah?” Dorothea asked as she dried her hands off on her apron, her brows stitching together.

“She’s new ‘round here,” her youngest brother replied. “She ain’t got any friends—“

“Doesn’t have,” John corrected, lifting his newspaper back up.

“How old is she?” Jessa asked.

“My age,” the boy said, a big toothy smile on his face. “May I go play with ‘em, mama?”

“Yeah, go on,” Jessa smiled and watched as her son ran out of the room with his bag of marbles in hand, the wicker screen door slamming against the wooden frame of the old home as he bolted through it. “I gotta talk to Maggie about givin’ him new toys every time I send ‘em over.”

“She likes it,” Dorothea interjected. “Can’t have babies of her own, it only makes sense she spoils everyone else’s.”

“Don’t matter,” Jessa took a seat at the table to rest her aching feet. “We don’t need another tab.”

John’s eyes lifted to meet his wife as if he were daring her to continue.

“If that girl’s new, maybe I should bake a pie and take it over to her mama and daddy,” Dorothea suggested, sensing the building tension. “We got some blueberries that’ll turn any day now.”

“Sure, honey, go on,” John said, looking back to his paper.

“Don’t use more than y’have to, Dot,” Jessa ordered. “I need flour to make biscuits for supper.”

“I’ll only use what I need, ma,” Dorothea promised with a saintly smile, flashing her emerald green eyes at her mother before heading into the pantry to start out on her baking.

“Daddy!” Sarah’s squeal could be heard from a mile away, causing her father, Joel, to turn his head in the direction of the dirt road, spotting his daughter riding on the handlebars of of a brand new, candy red-painted bicycle, his younger brother pedaling towards the opened gate of their farm. “Look what Uncle Tommy got!”

Joel shook his head at the needless expense as he watched them ride up to where he stood near the porch, his white cotton shirt soaked down his spine from spending the better half of the afternoon fixing the old wooden steps.

“You ain’t got nothin’ better to spend your money on?” Joel asked as they came to a skid in front of him, Sarah hopping off the handlebars and skipping up to her father’s side to hug his hip, his hand smoothing her wild curls out of her face. “Where you been all day, missy? Out causin’ trouble?”

“I made friends with some boys down the road,” she replied, looking up at her father as he quirked an eyebrow.

“Boys, huh?” he asked, his tone playful. “You ain’t old enough to be hangin’ around any boys.”

“But daddy, they’re sweet,” she insisted, rounding her hazel eyes at him and poking out her bottom lip for good measure. Joel smiled and nodded, rubbing his hand across her shoulders.

“I’m just kiddin’, baby girl,” he assured. “What did y’all get up to?”

“We played cowboys on their farm,” she beamed. “I got to be the sheriff.”

“You know me and your daddy used to be cowboys?” Tommy said, leaning against the post of the porch.

“Well, I would’a caught you,” she said, tilting her chin up in confidence.

“Alright, sheriff, why don’t you go inside and wash off all this dirt before supper?” Joel ordered, patting her back as she begrudgingly obeyed her. “Cheer up, I’m makin’ your favorite.”

“Chicken soup?” she squealed again.

“You got it,” he nodded before waving at her to head into the house like he’d asked.

“If you’re gonna yell, yell,” Tommy sighed, taking a seat on the second step.

“I ain’t gonna yell,” Joel sat down with him. “But you can’t be goin’ around town showin’ off and spendin’ like that. We don’t need people pryin’ into our business and gettin’ the wrong idea.”

“It ain’t a crime to be a bounty hunter,” Tommy argued.

“Not when you’re workin’ for the law, but you and I both know we were about as far from the law as we could get,” Joel said. “Just don’t want people treatin’ Sarah bad because of what we did to make ends meet. That’s why we had to leave the last place, remember?”

“Yeah, I know,” Tommy nodded. “I just saw it and thought it would make droppin’ Sarah off at the schoolhouse easier on me, s’all.”

“Well, I ain’t gonna make you take it back,” Joel said, offering a soft smile, bumping his brother’s shoulder with his own. “Just…talk to me before you go out and buy somethin’ that pretty next time, alright? I might want one for myself.”

“Well, speaking’ of pretty,” Tommy nudged his chin forward in the direction of the gate, Joel’s eyes following his eyeline until he saw what he was so fixed on. Tan, freckled skin, a head of chocolate brown waves thrown up messily, a pair of bright green eyes and an equally bright smile heading up the dirt path to the porch.

“She here for you?” Joel whispered to his brother.

“I certainly hope so,” Tommy replied with a smile.

“Hi, y’all, sorry to interrupt,” the unfamiliar face greeted them as she reached the bottom of the steps, both men staring at her with a mixture of confusion and awe. “I’m Dorothea. My little brothers were playin’ with your sister earlier, and I thought I’d bring a pie over to welcome y’all to the town.”

“Sister?” Tommy asked, fixing a charming smile onto his face. “No sister here, but we’ll be glad to take that pie off your hands.”

“Oh,” she furrowed her brows in confusion. “I’m sorry, I guess I must’a—“

“You talkin’ about Sarah?” Joel spoke up, drawing her eyes to meet his.

“Yeah, I think that’s what her name was.”

“That’s my daughter,” he smiled.

“Oh!” Her eyes widened in shock. “I’m sorry, I thought—you look young, so I just thought—“

“No need to apologize,” he assured, standing up and unintentionally towering over her as he walked down the steps. “I had her young; I’m used to it by now.”

Dorothea smiled softly and nodded, her eyes lowering to the pie in her hands rather than at his dark, round eyes.

“Well, this is for y’all, then,” she said, holding the pie out for him to take.

“Thank you,” he accepted it and lifted the cloth covering the top, bringing the pie close to his nose. “Smells great.”

“It’s a family recipe,” she said. “I can give it to your wife if she’s around?”

“Oh—no,” Joel tensed, his smile faltering. “She, uh, she passed givin’ birth to Sarah.”

“Oh,” Dorothea’s eyes turned soft and sympathetic. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” he assured, flickering his eyes over to his brother who remained watching their new friend with eager eyes. “We’re about to have supper, you could join us? Let us repay you for the pie?”

“Oh, I wish I could, but my mama’s makin’ biscuits and gravy tonight and she’d throw a fit if I stayed out past dark,” Dorothea said, offering him an apologetic smile.

“Well, you’re always welcome,” Joel shrugged. “Your brothers, too. I’m sure Sarah would love it if her new friends stopped by.”

“I’ll let ‘em know,” she smiled. “Well, I should be goin’.”

“You need a ride?” Tommy asked, standing up.

“Oh, no,” she giggled. “I like the walk, gives me a little time away from all the noise.”

“Alright,” Tommy smiled. “You said your name was Dorothy?”

“Dorothea,” Joel corrected.

“That’s right,” she chuckled. “And y’all are?”

“I’m Tommy, he’s Joel,” Tommy said.

“Well, Tommy, Joel,” she smiled as she turned her eyes from Tommy to meet Joel’s again. “It was nice meetin’ y’all. Enjoy that pie.”

“I’m sure we will,” Joel smiled. “Get home safe, now.”

“Everybody knows not to mess with me,” she smirked as she began backing her way towards the gate.

“That so?” he smirked.

“Yep,” she giggled. “Bye now!”

“Bye,” Tommy called, waving at her as she turned around and started down the road in the direction she came. “What a looker.”

“She wasn’t lookin’ at you,” Joel teased.

“What, you think she was lookin’ at you?”

“No,” he replied defensively as he started up the steps. to head into the house, Tommy trailing closely behind.

“You got a crush, old man?”

“Twenty-eight ain’t old,” Joel argued, setting the pie down on the dinner table.

“Older than me,” Tommy quipped. “Older than her.”

“Alright, well since you’re so young and spry, why don’t you go out back and fetch us some milk for supper, charmer?” Joel teased, grabbing the cloth from the pie and swatting it at his younger brother.

It was Sunday afternoon, Joel and Tommy finished with the week’s chores and labor, Sarah skipping down the road with them as they made their way to town to look around at the shops and stands.

Joel, as always, kept his pistol tucked into the holster on his belt, his eyes scanning his surroundings for any potential trouble while desperately hoping none found him.

Joel had lived a lot of life in his twenty-eight years. He started out as a ranch hand to his father, Tommy just old enough to form a sentence while his older brother was expected to go out and tend to the horse, sheep, and cows at five in the morning. School wasn’t a priority to his parents, but learning to take care of the ranch was, to them, as essential to living as breathing.

Joel was fifteen when his father passed from typhoid fever, his mother following shortly after getting caught in the middle of a shoot out in town, leaving him to not only take care of the ranch, but his eleven year old brother as well.

Two years later, Joel and Tommy got swept up in the bounty hunting lifestyle after seeing how much the sheriff was offering for an outlaw on a wanted poster. They bid their ranch goodbye, packed up what little they had, and rode off into the desert to start anew, not knowing a single thing about what was to come.

Though their endeavors started out lawful, a then-seventeen year old Tommy quickly grew bored of their meager earnings and convinced Joel to abandon the lawful bounty hunting in favor of working with outlaws, the two of them hunting out sheriffs and their own people instead.

This was how Joel met Sarah’s mother at the young age of twenty-one. She was ten years older than him, working in a bordello Tommy insisted on staying at for the night during one of their hunts. Joel was hesitant at first, but quickly found his footing once he spotted her across the room. She had dark skin, rich, brown eyes, and a figure like he’d never seen before. He was already hooked then, but once their visits grew more frequent, he realized it was more than just a drunken lust he felt for the woman. He loved her. And when she fell pregnant with his child, Joel took her down to the town church and married her before riding off again to go on his next hunt. He only saw her two more times before Sarah came, and then she was gone.

Joel tried to go back to his old life, but found it difficult to do what he needed to do with a baby in tow. The boys settled down in Utah for a while, but Tommy’s antics at the local saloon had them packing up and heading west to California. Tommy had some luck there panning for gold, but just as quickly as the last time, he got into a brawl and the three of them were forced back on the road. It went like this for a while, up until just a few months ago when they were talked out of moving out of their old family ranch by a wealthy man looking to buy it for a handsome sum, the money too appealing for Joel to decline.

That’s how they ended up here in the Middle of Nowhere, Texas.

Joel liked it here. It was quiet, there wasn’t any trouble, and everyone seemed to have an understanding that this place was for families, somewhere safe to keep your children in the midst of all this shooting and debauchery. Joel wanted to stay here, but there was a nagging voice every time he looked over at his reckless younger brother that told him it was only a matter of time before they’d have to pack it all up again and run off. He hoped this time, Tommy would learn his lesson.

“Daddy, can I go look at the flowers?” Sarah chimed as they reached the booming Main Street, her little finger pointing at a flower cart.

“Yeah, but don’t go runnin’ off too far,” he said, keeping a watchful eye on her as she skipped towards the daisies.

“I’m gonna go see about that wheelbarrow,” Tommy said, nudging his head in the direction of an old man’s roadside stand of junk.

“Anything that keeps you outta the saloon,” Joel said, his eyes still locked on his daughter as she chatted the ear off of the older woman selling flowers.

“Robert, you better stay out of there!”

Joel’s attention was turned in the direction of a faintly familiar voice calling down the street. There he spotted Dorothea, surrounded by five boys ranging from Sarah’s age to somewhere around her own. The eldest looking boy, Robert he assumed, waved her off as he continued ahead of them into the saloon and bordello, leaving her fuming as she tried to corral the three youngest to follow her while the second oldest followed in his brother’s footsteps.

“Dottie, look! It’s Sarah!” the youngest squealed, his finger pointing down the road at Sarah who was getting a flower pinned in her curls. “Can I go say hi?”

“Yeah, just stay where I can see ya,” she said, watching as all three boys ran off in Sarah’s direction.

Joel cleared his throat as he felt obligated to go over and say hello, but Dorothea spotted him first and gave him a polite nod from down the road before turning to head into the general store. A strange pang of disappointment hit him in the chest at her lack of interaction, but he quickly reminded himself that he didn’t want the responsibility of a friend. He had enough on his plate with his ranch, his daughter, and his brother.

“Daddy,” Sarah came strolling back over hand in hand with Dorothea’s youngest brother, both of them smiling cheekily. “This is my boyfriend, James.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” Joel gave the boy a playful once over and shook his head in feigned disapproval. “How about a boy friend?”

“Daddy,” she pouted and fixed a stern look on her face that looked every bit her mother.

“Alright, James, but I expect you to respect my daughter,” he said, playfully wagging his finger in the little boy’s face and poking his nose, earning a giggle.

“Yes, sir,” James smiled. “I think Sarah’s the love of my life.”

“Love of your life?” Joel asked, resting a hand on his hip. “You ain’t lived much life, son.”

“Six years of it,” he countered.

“Six years a long time to you?” Joel continued with a smile.

“Yeah. It’s my entire life,” the boy quipped, pulling a laugh out of Joel.

“I guess you’re right,” Joel chuckled. “Long as you treat her right, we ain’t gonna have a problem.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Those your brothers?” Joel nudged his chin in the direction of the two slightly older boys, one of them chasing the other with a flower he’d plucked from the lady’s cart.

“Yes, sir,” James nodded. “Ed and Bo.”

“And the other two?”

“Robert and Paul,” James said. “But they’re mean.”

“Yeah? They mean to you?” James nodded. Joel smiled and squatted down to be eye level with him. “Let me ask ya somethin’. One day, you’re gonna be big enough to be mean right back to ‘em,” James nodded. “That somethin’ you’re looking forward to?”

“No,” James shook his head.

“No? Why not?”

“I don’t like bein’ mean,” James said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Good answer,” Joel smiled. “I don’t want my daughter with somebody mean.”

“Boys! Come help me with these groceries!” Dorothea called from the shop, her eyes flickering to Joel as he stood up and turned to look at her. “They ain’t botherin’ y’all, are they?”

“No, ma’am,” he said, tipping the brim of his cowboy hat at her.

“Lord almighty, she’s a fine lookin’ woman,” Tommy appeared next to Joel, earning a stern glare from his older brother.

“She’s off limits,” James said, his own face scrunching up. “My daddy said so.”

“Well, your daddy hasn’t met me yet,” Tommy smiled. “She got a boyfriend?”

“No,” James replied defensively. “And she don’t want one neither.”

“What about a friend?” Tommy persisted.

“I’m her friend,” he said, crossing his little arms over his chest.

“Did you get the wheelbarrow?” Joel asked, desperate to stop his brother’s back and forth.

“Yep,” Tommy nodded.

“Good, now go on and use it. We need fire wood,” Joel said, tipping his chin towards the hardware store. Tommy sighed and did as his brother commanded while Joel urged both Sarah and James off towards the general store to pick up their weekly groceries.

“Daddy, can we get some blueberries to make another pie?” Sarah asked, pointing ahead at a pint of blueberries sitting on the table in the middle of the store along with the rest of this week’s harvest.

“I didn’t make the pie, baby,” he said. “Don’t know what else we’ll need.”

“Y’all talkin’ about my pie?” Dorothea asked, offering a smile to Sarah as she walked over holding a basket of fruit in her hand while her younger brothers carried the rest of the haul.

“You made it?” Sarah asked with delight.

“Yes, ma’am, I did,” Dorothea nodded. “You want the recipe?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sarah smiled. “I’ll make my daddy teach me.”

“Is your daddy good at bakin’?” Dorothea chuckled, glancing over at Joel who watched her carefully.

“No,” Sarah frowned.

“No, he doesn’t look the part,” she smirked at him, watching as a subtle blush grew on his cheeks. “Well, maybe I could come and teach you since your daddy ain’t so good.”

“Daddy, can she?” Sarah asked, tugging on her fathers arm.

Joel looked down at his wide eyed daughter and felt affection bloom in his chest for her, immediately caving in to her request. “Sure, baby girl.”

“Alright, you want me to show you what you need?” Dorothea spoke to Joel, bringing his eyes back to hers.

“Yes, ma’am,” Joel nodded, gesturing at her to lead the way.

“Gonna need flour, y’all got that at home?” Joel nodded. “Butter?” Another nod. “How ‘bout milk?”

“We got our own cows,” he said.

“Looks like y’all ain’t gonna need much, then,” she smiled. “All’s left is some blueberries, a lemon, some sugar, and…I think that’s it.”

“You think?” Joel teased, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“I know,” she corrected herself with a smirk. “I’ll come by tomorrow afternoon, if that’s alright by y’all.”

“Sounds alright with me,” Joel smiled. “I’ll make sure Tommy ain’t around to bother ya.”

“Oh, you ain’t gotta worry about him. I think he’s kinda sweet…in his own special way,” she shrugged. Joel lifted his eyebrows in surprise at the jealousy that sparked inside him at the thought of Tommy and her together.

As if on cue, Tommy walked in, his eyes scanning the room until he spotted the three of them.

“Well if it ain’t Miss Dorothy,” he grinned.

“Dorothea,” James corrected from the counter as he scooped up the final sack of groceries.

“My apologies,” Tommy smirked. “Guess I’ll have to spend more time around ya. Get the name to stick.”

“Alright,” Joel rolled his eyes and patted Sarah on the shoulder, guiding her towards the counter to pay for their hail. “We’ll see ya tomorrow, then, Dorothea. Bring that James with ya if ya want. Word is him and Sarah are in love. I’d hate to come between that.”

Dorothea giggled and nodded. “That’d be a crime, now, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re comin’ by tomorrow?” Tommy asked, leaning against the counter.

“Yes, sir,” Dorothea nodded. “Showin’ your niece how to make my famous blueberry pie.”

“Got room for one more student?” he asked. “I’ve been meanin’ to learn how t’ bake.”

“Oh, have you now?” she giggled. “I suppose you can join us, long as you pay attention.”

“I’m gonna be payin’ attention, alright,” he smiled. “Have a good day, now, Dorothy.”

“Dorothe—“ She stopped herself from correcting him again once she realized he was now doing it on purpose, her head shaking as she smiled at him. “How ‘bout you just call me “Miss” from now on? Can’t get that wrong, can ya?”

“Ain’t no fun in that,” he smiled. “I’ll get it one ‘a these days.”

“I’m sure you will,” she rolled her eyes before looking to Joel. “See ya, Joel.”

Joel tipped his hat at her and watched her walk off back down the long road headed towards her ranch, her horde of brothers following closely behind.

“You gotta mess with her?” Joel asked Tommy as he pulled out a few notes and handed it to the clerk.

“Least she’s a nice woman,” Tommy reasoned. “Could be goin’ after one of my women at the bordello like you—“

“Watch it,” Joel warned seriously, no trace of amusement in his eyes as they flickered to an oblivious Sarah. “That mouth’s gonna get you in trouble, Tommy. One ‘a these days someone’s gonna come along and do somethin’ about it.”

“They already tried,” Tommy chuckled. “I’ll take my chances.”

Joel only shook his head as he led the three of them out of the store, Tommy’s hands busied by the wheelbarrow hauling lumber while Joel carried their bag of groceries and Sarah worked on the lollipop the cashier handed over to her.

“Dot, come down and help your mama with hangin’ clothes!” Dorothea’s mother, Jessa, called up the staircase of their quaint farmhouse, interrupting her journaling.

“Yes, mama!” she called back, closing her books before making her way downstairs to tug her boots on before entering the mid-morning heat. She joined her mother out in front of the lawn as she sat scrubbing the dirty laundry on her washing board, a few sheets already hung up on the line.

“Thank you, baby,” she said, wiping her brow. “It’s hot out today.”

“It’s been hot out every day,” Dorothea commented. “How’re the crops lookin’?”

“Your daddy don’t bother tellin’ me anymore,” she said. “Half of me wonders if we wouldn’t be better off packin’ up and movin’ west. I hear there’s still plenty gold.”

“Who ya gonna get to mine for it? Daddy’s back can’t take it, and your two eldest don’t seem to care ‘bout nothin’ except goin’ to the saloon.”

“Don’t you wish we had that luxury?” Jessa said with a smirk. “I know I’d like to be able to run off whenever I want and drink the night away.”

“I don’t care much for the drinkin’, but I would like to know what it feels like to do whatever I want whenever I wanna do it,” Dorothea replied. “Instead we gotta ask permission anytime we wanna leave the house. Makes ya sad if you think about it too much.”

“I’ll tell you somethin’,” Jessa locked eyes with her daughter. “You ever feel like sneakin’ off for a night—maybe go see a pretty boy—you can count on me t’keep your secret. Long as ya tell me, I’ll watch out for ya.”

“You gonna lie to daddy for me?” Dorothea giggled.

“Lord knows I’ve done worse things.”

Dorothea quirked an eyebrow at her mother, smirking in interest.

Jessa ignored her daughter’s curiosity. “So this mean there’s a boy?”

“No,” Dorothea shook her head. “Not yet, at least.”

“Come on, now,” Jessa smiled.

“James’ new friend, Sarah, has an uncle,” she shrugged. “He seems interested.”

“But you ain’t?”

“I don’t know, mama,” she blushed. “He’s fine and all, but…he ain’t really what I’m lookin’ for.”

“Why’s that?”

“He talks too much,” Dorothea replied, earning a hearty laugh from her mother.

“You’re just like me, ain’t ya?”

“Sarah’s dad, however—“

“Dad? How old is he?” Jessa furrowed his brows.

“He doesn’t look much older than me,” she replied. “But he’s quieter. Doesn’t talk unless he has to. And he was sweet with James,” she said. “Thought it was cute.”

“But he ain’t interested in you like the brother is?” Jessa asked.

“I don’t think so,” she said, grabbing the last piece of wet clothing from her mother’s hands and wringing it out before hanging it on the line. “Either way, I don’t foresee any sneakin’ out in my future.”

“A little sneakin’ out would do you some good,” Jessa argued. “You’re too well behaved for your own good.”

“Someone’s gotta be,” she smiled and nudged her head in the direction of the house. “Alright, I gotta go change.”

“Where you off to?”

“Helpin’ Sarah make a pie,” she said.

“Mmhm,” Jessa smirked. “Well tell the uncle and the daddy I said hello.”

“Sure, mama,” she smiled back knowingly before skipping off to the house.

“There she is,” Tommy chimed as Dorothea walked up the steps of the porch, a sweet tea in his hand as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Where’s my student?” Dorothea smirked, tilting her head at him.

“Right here,” he said, gesturing at himself. “Ready to learn.”

“I meant my promisin’ student,” she countered, bringing a grin to his face.

“She’s out back with her daddy,” he said, tipping his head back towards the house. “But we could get started without her.”

“I’m sure you’d like that,” she chuckled. “I’m gonna go find her.”

“I’ll be right here,” he drawled, watching her as she walked down the steps and rounded the corner of the house.

Out back, she was met with the sight of Sarah filling the pigs trough full of scraps while her father brushed the mane of a chestnut horse, his white shirt pulling taut across the breadth of his shoulders.

“Hey, y’all,” she announced herself, drawing both pairs of eyes to hers.

“Dorothea!” Sarah chimed, abandoning her work at the pig pen to come skipping over. “Time for pie?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she smiled, her eyes trailing from the little girl in front of her to her much larger father as he walked over, his blue jeans clinging to his legs as if they were painted on.

“Miss Dorothea,” he tipped his hat at her. “You come to take this trouble maker off my hands?”

“You causin’ trouble?” Dorothea asked, looking back to the six year old.

“Daddy’s lyin,” she grinned.

“So I got a troublemaker and a liar on my hands,” Dorothea smiled, looking back to Joel. “Ya gonna stay out here, or ya gonna join us inside?”

“Ain’t gonna be much help, I’m afraid,” he smiled.

“You can be our taste-tester,” she shrugged. “And maybe you can keep that brother of yours on a leash. He seems particularly determined today.”

“I apologize for his forwardness,” Joel spoke sincerely. “He thinks he’s smooth ‘cause every woman he’s ever talked to has been eager. He don’t realize it’s ‘cause he paid ‘em to be.”

Dorothea laughed, her brows lifting in shock at the racy nature of his joke.

“I’m sorry,” he said, realizing himself. “Forget I’m talkin’ to a lady.”

“Am I that homely?” she teased. “Maybe I’ll wear my best dress next time. Get Tommy to remember my name and you to remember you’re talkin’ to a woman.”

“Yeah, daddy,” Sarah scolded. “Where’s your manners?”

“I must’a lost ‘em,” he joked.

“Well, me and Dottie’ll help you find ‘em,” she sassed, grabbing Dorothea’s hand and dragging her along back to the house, Joel smiling to himself as he followed them.

“So, cows, a horse, pigs…looks like you’ve got yourself a ranch,” she said, looking behind her as Sarah continued tugging her along.

“Yep,” he agreed.

“You don’t talk much, do ya?”

“Try not to,” he said.

“Any reason?”

“Find people like me a little better when I keep my mouth shut,” he replied, earning another laugh.

“Someone must’a trained you right,” she joked. “Tommy on the other hand—“

“Y’all talkin’ ‘bout me?” Tommy spoke from the porch as the three of them ascended the steps. “Good things, I hope.”

“Hope is a dangerous thing,” Dorothea quipped, earning a chuckle from Joel, the sound drawing her eyes away from Tommy and over to him.

“I don’t get it,” Tommy said, smiling even though his brows were drawn together.

“Nevermind, let’s just get workin’,” Dorothea said, gesturing for him to lead the way.

“He ain’t too clever,” Joel leaned over Dorothea’s shoulder as they filtered inside, whispering to her, and she would’ve laughed if she hadn’t been so caught off guard by his proximity.

“You know anythin’ ‘bout makin’ a carrot cake? My mama used to make the best, and I haven’t found anythin’ quite as good since,” Tommy called from the kitchen as Dorothea remained frozen in the entryway, her eyes watching Joel as he squeezed past her to join his brother and daughter inside the small kitchen. “You hear me?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Dorothea cleared her head and composed herself as she walked in to join them. “Carrot cake, ya said? I don’t think I’ve ever made one.”

“Well, you had to have a flaw,” Tommy drawled.

“I’ve got a few,” she countered.

“Like what?”

“I’m very particular,” she replied.

“‘Bout what?”

“I like the quiet,” she said, smirking at him. “And I get real bossy.”

“I can shut up,” he said. “And I can follow orders.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Joel groaned, sitting down at their round dinner table.

“Alright, then, if you’re so good at shuttin’ up and followin’ orders, how ‘bout you go sit down and stay quiet while me and Sarah get to work.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tommy grinned, walking over to the table by the window to sit with his brother while Dorothea and Sarah got to work. “She likes me.”

“She hates you,” Joel corrected.

“What d’you know about women, huh? When’s the last time you talked to somethin’ as pretty as that?”

“Just a few minutes ago in the yard,” he said, lifting an eyebrow to signal his victory.

“You think she likes talkin’ to you anymore than me?” Tommy asked with a smug smile. “I can’t imagine how crazy someone’d have to be to find you interestin’. All you do is take care ‘a the ranch and complain.”

“I didn’t say she liked talkin’ t’me,” Joel shrugged. “Just that we talked.”

“Yeah, well, leave the talkin’ to me,” Tommy said. “I’ll have me a wife come winter, you’ll see.”

“She ain’t gonna marry you,” Joel chuckled.

“Why not?”

“You ain’t committed to nothin’ but causin’ trouble,” he said. “No amount ‘a pretty’s gonna change ya that quick.”

“Well,” Dorothea smiled across the table at Joel as he hauled a bite of her and Sarah’s creation into his mouth, Tommy long gone and out at the saloon while Sarah laid in the living room fast asleep from two thick slices of pie. “Any good?”

“Ya know it’s good,” he said, flickering his eyes at her before dropping them back to his plate.

“Is it always like pullin’ teeth with you?” Joel furrowed his brows as he looked at her again. “Givin’ a sincere compliment?”

“It was sincere,” he said.

“Guess I’m expectin’ somethin’ more like Tommy’s reaction.”

“What, fallin’ to my knees?” he joked, cracking a half smirk. “My knees are busted. I’ll have to praise you from my seat.”

“You and him are so different,” she commented, watching him as he ate. “He’s…wild. Too wild. Reminds me of my two brothers.”

“The ones who went into that…establishment?” he asked, wiping his mouth on a scrap of cloth he’d fashioned into a napkin.

“Yeah, them two,” she nodded. “You ever…been to one ‘em?”

Joel froze a bit, his hand pausing as he lifted a glass of milk to his mouth for a sip. “You askin’ me—“

“I just wanna know what they’re like,” she shrugged. “What they do.”

“You’re better off not knowin’.”

“Well, the men always seem to leave happy,” she said.

“They sure do,” he blushed and brought his cup the rest of the way to his lips, taking a swig before setting it down. “But I ain’t completely sure if that’s somethin’ you need’a know about.”

“Why is it that you boys get’a have all this fun and us girls are supposed to stay home and bake pies, sit and wonder what y’all are doin? What if I wanted to go into a bordello?”

“I ain’t sure it’s they’d know what t’do with ya,” he chuckled.

“Is it—are they…makin’ love?” she whispered the last line, causing Joel to choke on his bite, his fist pounding against his chest to clear it.

“I—“ He shook his head, lost for what to say. “I don’t know that I’d call it that.”

“But they are…sleepin’ together?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “But they ain’t doin’ no sleepin’.”

“And that’s where Tommy ran off to?”

Joel hesitated for a moment but nodded.

“Well, then I know for certain I don’t want him,” she said, looking at her plate.

“You don’t like…those kinda men?” he asked, recalling his own past.

“I don’t like men who get around,” she clarified. “If a man wants me, I better be the only one. But so far, I haven’t met a man willin’ to hang up his hat.”

“They’ll grow outta it,” he said.

“Did you?” she asked, knocking his boot under the table with hers.

“I had my day,” he said, locking eyes with her. “Sarah’s mom—she, uh—I met her in one of those…places.”

“But you married her.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Never liked two-timin’.”

“Well, there’s still hope to be had, then,” she smiled. “Just hope I’m still young and pretty by the time these boys decide t’grow up.”

“How old are you?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.

“I’ll be twenty-five on Christmas,” she said.

“Christmas, huh?”

“Yeah, makes it easy on my mama and daddy,” she joked. “What about you?”

“Twenty-eight,” he replied. “Twenty-nine in September.”

“Birthday just passed, then,” she said. “I’ll have t’bake you a belated birthday cake.”

“You tryin’ to win me over with food?” he flirted, just to test the waters.

“I didn’t know I was tryin’ to win you over,” she smiled.

“I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

“Your brother would,” she countered.

“Yeah,” he shrugged.

Dorothea sat there watching him with a smile, searching his eyes for any sign of a cruel joke being played on her but found none. Even still, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do in this sort of situation. She’d been flirted with for half her life, but was never interested enough to flirt back. Until now.

“I guess I should be goin’ off,” she said, swallowing her feelings for the man in front of her out of sheer fear of falling flat on her face.

“You gonna get home alright?” he asked, standing up when she stood to carry her plate to the sink. “Could take the horse.”

“No, I’m alright,” she assured with a smile, turning around to find Joel right in front of her, his chin tipped downwards as she looked up into his molasses brown eyes. Though she remained breathless, she couldn’t help but let out an airy chuckle as she lifted her hand to press it against the firm wall of his chest. She didn’t push him away, she simply rested it over his heartbeat to feel for a similar rhythm to her own. “You’re awfully close.”

“Would’ya like me to step back?” he asked, his eyes darting across her features, admiring the curve of her button nose.

“No,” she replied, what was supposed to be playful turning into a whisper as she watched tongue peek out and swipe over his bottom lip. She couldn’t help herself but to want to trace the line, too, her hand raising to rest over his bearded jaw while her thumb ghosted across the bow of his lip. “Never kissed anybody before, y’ know that?”

“S’easier than you’d think,” he whispered back, leaning down to slowly fill the gap between their lips, Dorothea’s eyes fluttering shut as she splayed her hand over his cheek while the other lifted to bury her fingers in his curls.

Joel hummed into the kiss as his lips landed against the pillowy softness of her pout, his chest pressing to hers as he pressed her into the counter behind her, his hands gripping the edge of the rustic wood.

Dorothea’s brows laced together as she tried to keep her head above water in this sea of him. He tasted like the pie she spent all afternoon baking and a little bit of whiskey, the warmth of both heating her skin up as she melted into him.

“Daddy,” Sarah called from the other room, her tiny voice thick with sleep. Joel pulled back first, leaving Dorothea to chase his lips with her eyes still shut. He smiled at the sight and leaned forward to kiss her forehead, pulling her out of her haze.

“I gotta go take her t’bed,” he whispered, his voice raspy in her ear as his lips came to rest there. “Wait for me.”

Dorothea couldn’t speak, her olive colored cheeks turning a shade of red as she watched him walk back and out of the room, his voice soft as he spoke to his daughter, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her down the hall

She stood there resting against the counter, her hand resting on her heated cheeks, smiling at the wood beneath her feet.

Was this what it felt like to want somebody? Did it always feel this good? A blood rush to the head?

Joel found his way back into the living room a few minutes later, finding her in that same spot, still spinning over his touch.

“I…hope that was alright,” he said, seemingly catching her by surprise, her eyes jumping away from the floor to meet his. “I hope I didn’t…assume—“

“I think ya did, just a little bit, but that’s alright,” she smiled, walking over to meet him in the middle of the room, her hands sliding over his chest to loop around his neck. “You assumed right.”

“Tommy ain’t gonna like this,” Joel warned, resting his hands on the small of her back.

“He doesn’t got any claim over me,” she replied, her eyes flickering back to his mouth. “Y’know, your lips are softer than they look.”

“That supposed t’be a compliment?” he smiled and she nodded. “Well, thank ya, ma’am.”

“I like when you call me that,” she grinned. “When you use those southern manners.”

“Yeah?” he grinned back, leaning down to brush his lips over hers. “You like when I’m quiet and polite?”

She laughed softly and nodded, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Like that you know when to talk and when to shut up.”

“Then I’ll shut up now,” he said, smiling into the kiss as he squeezed her closer, his tongue swiping across her bottom lip before grazing the tip of her tongue. Dorothea moaned into the kiss, the sound causing Joel to short circuit and pull away, his forehead resting against hers. “You gotta go home.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, still breathless.

“Come see me tomorrow, if you got the time,” he said, pulling back to comb his hand through her brown waves as they hung loosely down her shoulder and back.

“I’ll see if I can sneak off,” she grinned, stepping back from his embrace to walk out the front door to his porch.

“I’ll see ya,” she said, biting her lip as she turned on her heel to walk down the steps of his porch.

“Bye, Dorothea,” he smiled to himself, tucking his hands in his pockets and leaning against the doorframe as he watched her frame get tinier and tinier as she walked down the long, dirt road until she disappeared out of view, taking the sunshine with her.

[askthefivefallen]

“Okay, so the key to a good sand castle is a good sand to water ratio. If you have too much water, it’s mud, too much sand and it won’t stick. You want it to stand on its own but still be pliable. Like this,” *Emily squeezes a handful of sand and it keeps the shape of the space between her palm* “Once you have that, you can build it up and shave away what you don’t need. If you make a mistake, just add a little more and fix it.”

*She offers the sand castle building kit to Shamira* “Here, now you try!”

Alright, Sugar, here you go. Go ahead and summon your mask; it's your time to shine.

Shamira smiles, snapping her fingers to summon a periwinkle mask into place. It wasn't the same as her face guard, the fabric far more flexible and permitting her to speak, but it brought her a similar level of peace. She then took the kit Emily handed her, tilting her head as she puzzled through the various pieces. Aside from the bucket that carried the kit, there was a small hand shovel and several molds to build the actual castle. "It seems fairly straight forward."

She kneels down and familiarizes herself with the various components before taking the bucket to dig out a small pit, intending to use it to create a pool of water she could easily draw from and using the displaced sand to build her castle. Then, she went to gather water.

You know, now seems like a good enough time to ask- why sandcastle building?

I'm unsure what you mean with that question.

You're pretty invested in doing this and I'm just curious what about sandcastles has your attention. Not like either of us knew surfing was a bad idea until this morning.

Shamira gathers up water in the bucket and ferries it back to her pit, going back for a second trip as most of the water began seeping through the sand at the bottom.

I am intrigued by the concept and I hope to better understand our dynamic by experiencing the process myself.

Our dynamic?

Yes. We're very much like a sandcastle.

Sugar, I'm pretty good at reading you, but ya gotta explain this one.

Shamira continues bringing water, focused solely on creating her pool of water and conversing with Ass in her head.

Sandcastles combine two concepts that should not make sense together. Sand is malleable, always shifting, dynamic; a castle is not. The stone is immutable, worn away only after ages have passed. You are the sand- dynamic, changing, adapting, and yet you remain true. No matter how the ocean beats against you, you are still the same Ass, despite how much you've changed,l just like you may never walk on the exact same sand but the beach endures. I am the castle; I am set in my ways, virtually incapable of changing easily, and I fear I may be worn away entirely one day.

What makes you think you'll be worn away?

A few things. I'm not as strong as you- spiritually. It's as Emily said; you are a wild, blazing flame. I am not.

Just because you're not a flame doesn't mean you can't endure. Look at the Palace; that's a type of castle and it's been around ages.

... I suppose.

And, even if you're always going to be a castle, that doesn't mean you can't change. You were once a castle dedicated to Sera. Now you're dedicated to Emily.

I changed because you showed me how. In that way, we are a sandcastle- two things that, by all rights, should not be even remotely considered relevant to each other. Yet, we are.

Okay. Well. Couple things. First, whatever our 'dynamic' is, I promise it's gonna be stronger and hardier than any fucking sandcastle.

Noted.

Secondly, sandcastles, even well built ones, are still messy and imperfect. So, it's okay if we're a little messy and imperfect, too.

Reasonable.

Finally, trust Em's word. It's about finding the right ratio, the right balance. It might not be intuitive. But, if we keep working at it, we'll figure it out.

I believe that's a sound strategy.

Awesome. Now, you've been fucking silently filling up that hole with water for, like, ten minutes. Em's probably a little worried.

Shamira blinks and looks up, turning her head to meet Emily's gaze while holding up the bucket. "Preparations are almost complete. Then, construction can begin."

((@ask-emily-em-emmy))

[the-golden-comet]

✨OC Interview Tag✨

Thank you for the tag, @illarian-rambling ! I’ve done all the main OCs thus far, but I can bring out Johnny Astrum from Lone Star Rangers for this one

Were you named after anyone?

Nah. Astrum’s the name that runs in the family. Come from a buncha cow herders. Figures, right?

When was the last time you cried?

I don’t cry. I get even.

Do you have any kids?

I’m on the move too much to settle down. Bounty huntin’s not the cozy lifestyle you wanna raise a family in.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Depends. Sometimes that’s how you lure a target. Gotta use the best tactics to draw the varmints out, y’know?

What is the first thing you notice about people?

If there’s a bounty on ‘em. They act all skitterish, always check in’ over their shoulder, always lookin’ to see if anyone’s following’ em. That’s why you gotta act cool so you don’t draw suspicion on yerself.

What is your eye color?

Uh….you probably can’t see my eyes too well. I’m made out of natural gasses. You probably shouldn’t stare at me too long neither, lest you wanna go blind. Definitely makes my job harder—can’t blend in too well.

Scary movies or happy endings?

I’ve been scorned too many times by past partners. I’ll take a scary movie, if they even work on me.

Any special talents?

Wranglin’, Herdin’, Gamblin’, Blowin’ smoke rings and shootin’ through ‘em.

Where were you born?

Andromeda Majoris IV, in the Astora Galaxy sect. That’s where all the Astrums were reared.

Do you have any pets?

I used to work on a farm with my folks. Had cows, horses, chickens, pigs, sheep, you name it. Once I get enough credits to settle down, I’ll get a plot on a gentle star galaxy, raise my own livestock.

What sort of sports do you play?

Do darts count? I have a pretty mean streak o’ darts. Can usually take home lots of credits if the bettin’s high. Definitely have ended in lots of saloon shootouts.

How tall are you?

Oh, I don’t know…maybe 6’8? Bounties have always said I’m an imposing feller. Tried to get to my soft side. Too bad their heads were worth more than their compliments.

What was your favorite subject in school?

School? My parents taught me on the farm. So, I guess….raisin’ animals was my favorite? Or maybe growin’ our crops…I didn’t like reading none….math, maybe. You gotta know how much water to give to the soil, n’ how much feed to the cattle.

What is your dream job?

God damn, if I could just be a farmer and raise animals for the markets, that would be ideal. I got caught up in wanting to be a star….and despite bein’ one in body, in spirit I just wanna settle down, y’know? Bounty huntin’s great n’ all, but my astral bones’ll get weary one o’ these days, and I gotta have a backup plan.

I’ll tag (no pressure): @wyked-ao3 , @autism-purgatory , @sunglasses-in-the-bentley , @madi-konrad , +open tag! 💖

[stray-tickles]

Thank You

a.n. MORE wolf 359. Bc I am inspired.

Read on AO3

--

Eiffel had to admit, he was grateful for the R&R. It wasn’t like he could do much when he could barely see, but part of him thought that he’d be expected to do… well, something. More surprises from Commander Minkowski.

He groaned, laying back on his bed. “Hera, is there a traditional gift that says, ‘thanks for saving my dumb life’?”

“Umm, not that I’m aware of.”

“Come on, work with me, there’s gotta be something.”

Hera paused. “Flowers?”

“Oh, very funny.”

“I’ve heard chocolates are a good gift.”

“Something we have, come on!”

Hera sighed. “Have you considered simply saying thank you?”

“I did that already! It’s not- obviously that’s not gonna be enough.” He lay back on his bed, running his hands over his face. “Look no one’s… No one’s ever done something like that for me. So… I’ve gotta figure something out.”

Hera was silent, but he knew she was there. She was always there.

“Maybe a candle?” He snorted. “Oh my god she’d hate that. Objectively a terrible gift even if we weren’t in space.”

“What about a letter?” Hera suggested.

“Hmmm, nah. Hey, we got any ingredients for a cake? I can write ‘thanks for saving my ass’ in icing.”

“Sorry, no cake.”

“Damn. Eh, I can’t bake anyway. Balloons?”

“Somehow I don’t think Commander Minkowski would like balloons floating around the station.”

Eiffel laughed. “We don’t need to put helium in them!”

He could tell Hera was amused. “That’s only marginally less dangerous. Really though, consider just saying thank you. I’m sure Commander Minkowski wouldn’t mind you saying it a second time, and you can think about what you really want to say.”

He buried his face in a pillow at the thought. “Hera.” Eiffel said, muffled, “I cannot do that.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know! I just can’t! I mean, come on, she’s terrifying!”

“She’s not that bad.”

“No! Not like, bad terrifying, just… I dunno, strong? And I’m a pain in the ass, I can’t do that.” Eiffel sighed. “Maybe that’s it. I could make a voucher book of ‘Eiffel Free Days’. Cash ‘em in and enjoy the blessed silence.”

“Eh, personally I’d prefer the cake.”

“Commander!” Eiffel sat up so quickly he bumped his head, the implications hitting him slowly. “You… have been standing there. This entire time.” He groaned, pulling the pillow over his face and laying back down.

Minkowski grinned widely, stepping into his room. “No please, tell me more about this parade you’re planning.”

He groaned again, drawing it out in an attempt to erase her presence.

“I mean, balloons, cake, flowers, sounds like a good time.”

“Hera how could you do this to meeeee?” He whined into the pillow. She had to know she was there. She’d known the whole time.

Hera giggled. “I don’t know, I guess it slipped my mind.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I think fireworks would work, don’t you?”

Eiffel hurled a pillow in her direction, but it flew wide. It was probably a bit harder to aim when he couldn’t see. Minkowski retrieved the pillow and approached his mortified form. It was nice to hear him say those things. She hadn’t thought that Eiffel had much respect for her, but maybe that assessment was incomplete. She hit him over the back of the head with the pillow.

The impact drew a yelp, and Eiffel peeked out from his pillow. This close, he could just about make out the outline of someone standing there. He narrowed his eyes. “What happened to Commander Hardass?”

She snorted. “Sorry, she’s on her break, you’re stuck with me.”

The next pillow impacted on her shoulder. Eiffel glared playfully. “Careful, I’ve got plenty of ammunition here, even if I can’t see.”

“Mm-hm.” She smacked him across the face, drawing out a spluttering laugh.

“What is happening?” He said, throwing another pillow in her direction. “Are we friends now? Is that what this is?”

Minkowski rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”

Eiffel smiled. He hadn’t heard a ‘no’. In which case…

Two pillows hit Minkowski in the face in quick succession, earning a yelp and a playful growl. “You’re really gonna assault a superior officer?”

He blinked innocently. “I thought she was on break? AAH-” Within moments, Eiffel found himself pinned down, being repeatedly beaten over the head with a pillow by a snickering Minkowski.

He couldn’t have kept from laughing if he’d wanted to. “Help!” He shouted, trying in vain to shove her off. “Officer down! Officer down!”

“Um, is everything okay?” Hera asked, confused.

Minkowski laughed. “Everything is fine, Hera, nothing to worry about.”

“Call the cops!”

“Shhh.” She held the pillow just over his face, leaving enough room for him to breathe. “Stop fighting. Let it go dark.”

Eiffel shook with laughter, doing his best to mime suffocation. Where had this side of Minkowski come from? He was almost mad to find that she did know how to have fun after all. Almost.

He kicked out his legs, surprised that it actually threw her off balance. Unfortunately, the next thing he knew a hand was grabbing at his ribcage seeking purchase, and he had no chance of not squealing.

Eiffel couldn’t make out more than her rough outline, but the smug smirk was something he could feel in the air. “Oh?”

“No!” He yelped, managing to wriggle off the bed and onto the floor, “No ‘oh’, nothing! Nothing to report here!” He didn’t even get to his feet before two hands struck like lightning, lobster clawing up his ribs and drawing out immediate, shrieking laughter.

Minkowski laughed too. This was good information to have, but more importantly, it was fun. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had fun. “Sure there’s nothing to report?”

His hands latched onto her wrists, and she graciously allowed him to pull her away for a few moments. He was grinning, all teeth and ruffled hair. “You really gonna attack a blind guy?”

“Eh, only if he’s a real pain in the ass.” She teased, twisting her hands free and digging her fingers into his stomach, sending Eiffel right back to cackling. He flung one arm over his face, the other flailing around uselessly as he twisted in place, trying to escape. Her fingers massaged deep into the soft flesh of his stomach, and it was torture.

Minkowski snickered. “Wow, not a single ab.” She continued to knead at his stomach like a cat making biscuits. “Forget a six pack, you could at least have a one pack.”

“Um, Commander?” It was hard to tell if Hera was amused or concerned.

“Nothing to worry about, Hera!”

“SAVE MEHEHE!”

“I’m getting some mixed messages here.” Hera said, voice tinged with laughter.

Minkowski couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled this much. “Seems our Communications Officer is a bit ticklish.”

Eiffel cringed, feeling his face burn. He batted weakly at her hands, biting down on giggles. “Nohoho I’m not!”

Hera giggled. “Seems like more than a bit.”

“No!” She was poking now, drawing out squeals and making him curl up more with every jab. Eiffel could feel himself getting lightheaded and giddy from laughing so much. Just as he was considering the suicide mission of fighting for revenge, he felt a telltale itch in his throat. “Wait!” He gasped, making the sign for a time-out. “Waitwaitwait!”

Sure enough, moments later he broke into a coughing fit, shoulders shaking from the intensity. He was taking a few deep, stabilising breaths when a hand found his shoulder, which definitely didn’t make him twitch.

“You okay?”

Eiffel nodded, pushing himself into a sitting position.

Minkowski grimaced. “Sorry.” She muttered. “I shouldn’t have…”

He was still smiling, he knew. He was a bit sore and out of breath, but he felt… good. Better than he had in a while. “No, it’s okay. Fun’s in short supply on this ship. In fact, I thought you’d jettisoned it to make space for… I dunno, more protocol?”

“Careful.” She smirked. “I know how to shut you up now.”

Eiffel shrank back mockingly, holding his hands up. “Oh no, Commander please have mercy!” He whined, grinning when she laughed. He let out a sigh. “Seriously, I… thank you, for saving my life.”

Minkowski shrugged. “That’s my job.”

“No, no, that was above and beyond, and you know it.”

She looked away. “It’s my job to keep my crew safe. You don’t owe me anything, okay?”

Eiffel groaned. “You’re making this really hard, you know that?”

She sighed deeply. “Fine. When we get back to Earth, you can make me a damn cake.”

“I’ll do you one better.” He grinned. “I will buy you a damn cake.”

“Fine.”

“A goddamn cake.”

Silence.

“A motherfucking goddamn cake.”

He wasn’t going to crack her just by swearing about cake. She refused.

“A motherfucking goddamn cocksucking cake.”

Shit. She couldn’t keep from laughing at that, noting his proud little grin as she got herself under control. “I-” She giggled. “I have serious questions about the icing on this cake.”

Eiffel laughed too. “Commander! Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Fuck off.”

“Language!”

She would never admit it to him, but his dumb jokes were worth flying out into a solar storm to save.

[mechaseraph]

*trying to figure out the shit is going on with Genba's outfit* Okay, can I just talk here for a bit and go into my "character design is my passion, so is analyzing em" mode

Came to conclusion that the easiest way for me to stylize him (/likely sort of intended read of his figure/design?) is just to draw dark silhouette kind of blob and slap some orange over it. We ball (each like less than 5 mins, don't take those seriously) There are something get lost like this, though...

Okay, here's my thoughts on him/how I think his design works under the cut

This might be the most hobbyani ass coded toku character I've ever seen in my life. He would fit right in with bottleman dx cast I think (that's to say, mfb is more on my mind here have anyone here heard about ren cvf hey). Like. How is coat even goes. What with the little "shoulder cape" thing. As he wears black/dark-gray for p much all, shirt and coat blend to point where you might confuse where one starts and other ends (or, at least, I do sometimes). Dare I say, the coat makes his figure look off at times, it is rather free and follows arms movement, while sleeves are firm, creating stick arms+broad figure combo. Almost every element is layered (tried to get my understanding? of his shirt out on 3rd. It looks 3 layered?), you can clearly see that the orange parts stick out over black and vice-versa?

And it is so obviously hand-made/hastily thrown together. The fabric's threads stick out, wouldn't say like "an eye-sore" but once you notice, it's hard to ignore? And you could say, "some clothes are just designed like this" and it be true, if not some of those sticking out in random fashion and from under orange elements. Genba, at least few of yours sewing threads are one pull from making a tear, I fear. (red highlights on 3rd and 4th. Just some) Overall, his outfit just. Not falling apart at all, just got those little parts that stick out, that's it, there's personal taste and direction, but it's sure an one to throw people off. Which is, gotta give to designers, fantastic job done! With whatever 3rd lap promises, it is very intentional and should speak for what kind of character Genba is. Or rather, his hidden parts and how it's all crumbles apart at its seams?

[plutoons]

Can you do a tutorial on how your art process is done I’m about to quit on Art everything I make fucking sucks .

hey anon !! My art process is almost non existent cause i haven’t been able to stick to One definitive way and i don’t want to cause i think its limiting. I still have a long way to go for improving my skills and learning new things and figuring out different styles !!

Heres a quickk drawing showing what my “main” process is

This is something i generally have stuck to for most of my posted drawings (i can post things specific to some drawings on a separate reblog ^^ im just to lazy to get pictures of em for examples rn)

Doodle !! I cant visualize shit, and usually have a very vague idea of what id like to draw Or just nothing at all. So I doodle messily with expressive gestures till’ i find something that sticks

choose one final concept/sketch and clean it up a lil so i have a way better idea of what im getting myself into

Base colors cause i hate doing lineart. So i just go straight into colors casue its fun and i like fun!! Right on top or on a diff layer it doesnt matter. I color pick with my eyes and put base colors or anything i think it would be cool. No pressure and it can messy cause I’ll clean it up and figure shit out later

fuck around and find out (rendering ig)—> i cant explain it super well or definitively. I just layer and throw colors on top till im satisfied or Done with it. I flip my canvas a bunch or check my values to make sure the results come out to look more coherent regardless of the mess of color

Im just a simple person and cant handle something that requires too many steps or things that havta be done Just right so this works for me atm. This may not be your jam but finding a process in that works for you through trial an error is just a part of art. Do what works for you!! I think experimenting is so important even if it sucks in the end

(more Words / “advice ?” under cut)

I have so many shitty drawings and sketches and even colored things that outweigh the tiny bits of art i decide to show off

I totally get that creating art can get really discouraging at times; not getting the results you want when you want them no matter how much effort you put in just sucks, but it won’t always be that way :] even if it takes you 10 years to find your groove and see improvement or 2 years, it’ll happen. I find that i’ve only improved when i actively didn’t give a fuck about how my art looks and only cared that i was having fun through it all, and thats hard cause perfectionism is a bitch and its hard to get rid of. You could improve with studies and daily practice for sure but moving towards improvement can be as fun and light n breezy as you want to make it, like taking a break to explore different hobbies or changing up mediums or fucking around and experimenting with it can help !!! Allow ur art to be bad; cause fuck it, at least you made something and thats really really cool. Once you cut urself some slack it’ll be easier to improve upon your skillset and slowly but surely get to where you want

Sorry im a bit tired idk if this is coherent so heres a more direct thing i’d like to say:

Maybe ur art isn’t where you want it to be rn and ik it can kill ur motivation to keep going at it (i’ve experienced this feeling a lot and im sure so have many others). But you gotta ease up on urself and stop worrying about results so you can allow yourself to experiment and have fun!! And its hard getting into that mindset but you gotta keep trying and you’ll find it getting easier

[artymcartist]

your art is so ‼️‼️ i love how you draw everyone and everything!

any tips you can spare for a struggling artist (specifically anatomy/dynamic poses if that’s okay?) 🙏

thank you :D

Aaa thank you!!!

This might sound dumb because Im still quite loopy from the dentists today, but here we go!

SHAPES

lots of shapes, especially rectangles

Honestly, I learned by observing others and shaping out the more anatomically correct drawings they'd do into segments. Using segments lets you kind put em wherever and test out poses without getting too deep into a drawing! You can round things out as you go or you can keep them as shapes (works especially with mcsm HAHA).

Plenty of good reference photographers on here and Insta too if you can't figure out a pose, but its kind of a balancing act of cool and realistic?

Gotta say, those body refs where they break the body up are VERY handy

Dont be afraid to copy poses you see for practice!!

[sburbian-sage]

Hey there, Knight of Quartz again! I’ve been testin shit, here’s what I got for you so far:

I’m in the Land of Fabergé and Rhystic, LOFAR.

So right away, weird, because Rhystic isn’t a real word, it’s a thing from Magic the Gathering- a word used for cards that an opponent can pay a cost to prevent you from using. Rhystic Study for example draws you a card every time someone else casts a spell, unless they pay an extra point of mana. (God FUCKING DAMN do I miss MTG, can’t play it now though, too risky, lots of cards give corruption.)

Meanwhile, Fabergé was literally just a guy’s name I think? But the way it manifests here is clearly about Fabergé eggs, they’re all over the place.

It’s kinda hell actually. Tons of the eggs have consort ashes (and/or organs/bones) in them and are basically like grave urns. But some of them have important stuff so I gotta open em anyway, and I think all the funerary ones I keep desecrating by accident are actually dropping my land rep.

As for the Rhystic keyword, I’m kinda stuck actually. I’m not seeing much about it really? There’s a place called the “Rhystic Tower” in one of the consort villages, and the consorts get really weird when I try to talk to them about it, but I can’t figure out how to get inside.

Onto the topic of death, none so far. No comas either. I want to ask though, if Quartz DOES rely on no deaths, do you think dying to go god tier might fuck all this up and make it so I retroactively never would have been assigned the aspect? Not that any of us have found our beds yet anyway, but I'm worried about it... Realselves don’t leave a ghost in a dream bubble when they god tier, right? Since you are your realself and dreamself at the same time? Or am I wrong?

As for time stuff, the meteors seem to be working like normal. Appearifier is still letting us make paradox slime for frog breeding, and the Ectobiology labs are present in the veil (but we’ve not found a gate to them yet). I think the exiles aren’t working though? Hard to tell. They might just be subtle and not have much to say, or maybe all of us have too much pepleader or something.

Okay, now for the big list of abilities I’ve gotten:

The first two were [Rose Tint] and [Smoke]. I guess in reference to rose quartz and smoky quartz. They are notably NOT offensive, and in fact seem to barely work, if at all. I think they might just be bugged. I can target living things with them, and they eat up some pluck, but then nothing seems to happen. I know abilities can be finicky, but I’m running out of ideas.

[Record] is an ability that I’ve been using constantly though. I actually learned to freestyle this early on, though the ability version is way more efficient. Either way, it basically it lets me extract a memory out of something’s mind. They come out as these glowy colorful orbs, but I can’t like, stuff them into my own head or anything. When I touch them, I think I get an impression of what the underling I extracted from was feeling at the time (mostly anger and fear so far). I’ve not found a real use for these yet, but it’s become almost compulsive for me to [Record] every enemy I fight at least once. I assume they’ll be useful later on.

As for abilities that actually do stuff in fights, [Elegist] was my go-to for a while. It feels like it “skips” me ahead, to after an enemy is already dead, and then I get a mental summary of how I beat them. But while it’s running I’m actually just in a fugue state, it’s not time travel or anything even though it feels like it. Had to stop using it after it let me get run through the chest with a sword just so I could get in close and kill an imp, I almost died from that… Plus, I just don’t trust it, no way Sburb really gave me a “I win” button, I bet it’d fail against strong enough enemies or whatever.

So instead I’ve mostly been using [Brain Fart] and [Going In Circles]. Fart just makes a target forget what they were doing for a second, and the circles one seems to make an enemy want to go back to wherever they were standing when I used the ability on them, after a few seconds. Both of these are really good at throwing enemies off in battle, and cost barely any pluck, so I can spam them.

There’s more, but my coplayers need me for a dungeon dive, and these were the ones I’ve been using the most, so I’m just gonna send this off as is.

I'd be a bit concerned about the Land Keywords. The running theory is that Quartz is a bugged Aspect, and Lands don't typically generate pop-culture references. I mean, it'd be kind of stupid if you got like, the Land of Gonzales and Mug Root Beer and you don't know that wrestler/that soda isn't available in whatever country or world you come from. Pop culture is constrained almost entirely to Alchemy, so you should be seeing immediate red flags any time they pop up. Related sidenote, I am now much more skeptical of this entire post.

On the funerary ashes, you just gotta roll with it. Toppling sacred urns, desecrating mystic ruins, and defiling hallowed tombs is as natural as breathing. It's sad, but you can't make an omelette without traumatizing a few people.

"Retroactively not getting assigned your own Title" isn't a thing. The only thing you can do to make yourself not be the Title you've been assigned is to do Vagabouncy. The nature of the Quest Beds and how ascending works is unknown, so it's kind of your job to figure that out. And as for whether or not ascending leaves behind a Dreambubble Ghost, the classical mistake you're committing is thinking about Dream Bubbles. Don't do that. All thinking about the Dream Bubbles typically does is existentially freak yourself out. So don't think about it, or whether or not you leave a ghost when you suffer a non-Just or non-Heroic death.

That the meteors and Ectobiology labs are working as normal seems to throw a wrench at our previous "Quartz supersedes Time and replaces it" theory. The game DOES have back-ups in case the meteor plan doesn't work, so "it brute-forces the meteors to time travel when the Reckoning happens because that's an essential step of the game" isn't an answer. Or at least, it seems somewhat hackneyed.

I don't think [Elegist] is an "I win" button, per say. It gives you a roadmap for defeating an enemy, but knowing how to do something and actually doing it are two different things (I say as I smooch my bulging biceps while wearing a shirt reading "SAGE EXCEPTION"). It's like how you can read guides for how to get top scores on Punch-Out!!, but the input, timing, and RNG makes it difficult. I would advise not using it on tougher enemies... Alone. If you can get someone to run a distraction (or otherwise protect you), it could make for a really good tactic. The defending player learns how to protect against its attacks, you learn the perfect offense, and then you put it into action. Unite, synchronize.

Those other abilities seem more immediately useful though, yeah. One ability that might be looking into, either "try freestyling" or "potential in-game ability?", is forcing an enemy to repeat the last action they performed. It'd be really predictable, which would help one learn how to avoid or counter an attack, not to mention the potential of "making an enemy with an explosive attack keep exploding and causing collateral damage". That's the first ability I'd think of when it comes to Quartz.

I'm glad to hear the progress report. Keep your wits about you, seize all tomorrows, and report back with any breakthroughs.