#wanted some stickers for my sketchbook so made these real quick

[abisalli]

some silly lil guys <3

[konveeart]

I thought last year I made the Art Summary post in January but I played myself. Anyways, Happy New Year!

I figured in early 2023 that I have a difficulty differentiating "want" with "have to". It's a real piece of tangle that became alarmingly obvious in the last months, between end-September to spectacularly turn into an aggressively-flashing-sign in December. I found more balance than I ever have to this date in the first half and by losing it in the second I can confirm what made it work, which is a big win. I am entering 2024 determined, carrying my worries and feeling nervous, but I don't feel desperate. At least, not in art..! For the future.. the pov might heavily rely on my dopamine levels and Vitamin D deficiency.

I drew a lot this year! The difference between sketching and drawing/painting grows in my folders but I've consistently for 2 years kept a "warmup" folder which also grows with a satisfactory level of diligence and fun. I taught myself to draw decent hands (still struggling when they are closed or.. doing more things than fingers being spread-out to show "I am a hand"). I also did a lot of new things!

::Quick Summary

January: launched an enamel pin ks campaign || February: drew a lot of アキ天, zine work & made my first home-made sticker-sheets🍓|| March & April: chibi-style exploration, SK8 sticker-sheets, sketchbook challenge and campaigned another special-merch collaborative project (」*´∇｀)」 || May: Convention time! ..and final zine work for the year (￣▽￣)ゞ || June & July: busy with the ks & packing orders || August: r e s t ♥ (with the best beans! I miss you all!!) || September: revisions, file-sorting, wrap-up commissions, picking up my projects again || October: online-shop run, comic-drafting, life gets busy || November: life is on fire, paperwork, learning to study (and succeeding) but getting tired, trying my best to keep on drawing!! || December: burnout caught up, Christmas cards give me life (*˘︶˘*).｡.:*♡, escaped to the mountains, pet a lot of cats

Thank you for an adventurous year 🌱 Wishing everyone all the best for the coming one ♥

Fun facts:

I've done a decent amount of work for myself and I plan on doing more! I keep having the difficulty of working out some boundaries for myself but it's improving.

This is not a resolution but if by the end of the year I have not sorted out my files, that's it I'm deleting them...! (bold statement)

Feb-Mar-April I discovered The Pudding Club and GOON and their music gave me so much energy! This is one of my favorite songs and makes me do a little dance every time I hear it~

What steadily led me to burn-out by December was denying myself wind-down time, daily, for four months (if not more). I remember feeling anxious in Jan - April for making so much work and still going. "Can it really be this good? Is this normal??". But the seedling sprouted and I took good care of it, despite my worries. I intend to keep taking care of it with more diligence. Sleep and food are necessities, and so is play.

[hologramband]

One Day p1

Alive!Luke x Fem!Reader Modern AU Word Count: 2.6k A/n: hehehe here’s the first part! I have it mostly planned out, there should be 3-4 parts! Lmk what you think! Summary: A shy girl is used to floating under the radar, keeping to herself most of the time, all was well until an opportunity fell into her lap, but what will these new people bring with them?

You were really good at staying right under everyone's radar at Los Feliz. You knew everyone, everyone knew you, but you didn’t have anything more than just a surface relationship with your classmates. You didn’t mind that, it was harder to get hurt this way. You got accepted to the Performing Arts High School with your ability to dance, but have always found your real talent lies within your visual art. Whether you were using paints, pencils, or a pen, you loved the way that your hand flew over the paper and created an image that represented your many different emotions.

In a way it made sense how you loved both dance and drawing, both sharing the flowing of movements to express things that words cannot. It was easier for you to express your emotions and thoughts in these mediums since social connection was hard for you. You had tried it once, really connecting with a person, but it ended up coming back and hurting you, causing you to shut down, so you weren't in a rush to try again any time soon. You floated down the hallways with ease, only having to stop at your locker to grab the remaining textbooks you need for the next few classes. While you were stopped you heard your name called from across the hallway, looking up to see Julie raising her hand in a small wave. “Hey, (y/n)! I like your top!” She came to a stop by your locker smiling. “Thanks! It was my moms, she just found this box of old clothes from when she was in school, this one just really stuck out to me.” You smiled down at yourself and looked back up at the girl to see three boys approaching. You felt heat subtly rise to your cheeks and you tried to focus your eyes on Julie. “Hey Jules, you ready to go to class?” Luke spoke as soon as they reached her side, sending you a nod of acknowledgement when he noticed you standing in front of them. Alex and Reggie both raised their hands with small waves in greeting to you. You smiled in return and turned back to close your locker, swinging your backpack on in the process. “Well, I gotta get to class too, see ya around.” You smiled back at the group and heard Julie call after you. “See you in Art!” You turned slightly and waved in return. Julie and you were pretty decent friends, you talked to her more than anyone else at the school, she had a good balance of how to get to know you without pushing you. You had met the boys a few times in passing, much like the previous occurrence, them not really speaking much more than a ‘hello’ here and there. There was something about Luke though, he never failed to send a storm of butterflies loose in your stomach. He probably didn’t even remember your name, but you could remember all the details of his face, not in a weird way, just in an artistic way, ya know? He had such a coolness about him, like he could totally embarrass himself but brush it off like it was nothing, like he meant to do it even. You thought you were getting better with your anxiety around people, but as soon as that boy was in front of you, it seemed as if your brain forgot how to function. You shook the boy from your thoughts as you continued through your day, classes went by like they typically do, all your general classes like math and english were in the first half of the day, the second half being taken by your dance class and then art. It was simple to say that you much preferred the second half of classes. In dance you went about as normal, running through a few routines and while wrapping up your teacher mentioned something about a new project that would be announced tomorrow. After changing you made your way to your final class where Julie had already arrived and claimed a table for the two of you. “Hi!” she smiled up at you. “Hi! How were your classes today?” You replied, starting a conversation that you hoped would carry throughout the class. You really did like talking with Julie, she was so sweet and really made you feel like she wanted to get to know you. The first day of class she noticed you were sitting alone and she took this as an opportunity to introduce herself, commenting on the particular band tee you had on, being able to strike up a conversation instantly. You admired her for this, the confidence she had when walking in a room was just astounding to you. The two of you went about the class in a way that you similarly would, talking about this and that while sketching away in your respective books, her only pausing to write ideas in her song notebook when an idea would hit. The class you were in didn’t have many actual assignments, just that you needed around 3 small pieces turned in periodically and one larger one for your final at the end of the semester, it made it an easy free flowing environment where there wasn’t too much pressure to stress on any one thing. Before you knew it the ding of the bell was going off overhead and you and Julie started packing up your things, she quickened her pace when she saw the boys waiting at the door for her. “You guys have practice today?” You giggled at her rushed movements. “Yeah,” she laughed as she zipped her bag closed, “Luke and I just finished up a new song too so I’m really excited to get back to the garage to figure out the music behind it.” She smiled up at you and you returned the affection. “Well don’t let me hold you up! Hope it all goes well! See you tomorrow!” You waved to the girl as she ran to the door, only pausing to throw a wave back at you. You laughed and shook your head at the girls' antics and went about your day as usual, starting your walk back home, you didn’t live too far and enjoyed the fresh air and time to recollect after the school day. After getting home you grabbed a quick snack and retreated to your room to finish a sketch that you had been working on in class today. Digging through your bag your heart rate increased when you pulled the red covered book to see the top covered in multiple stickers, this wasn’t your book, it was Julies song book, meaning she was currently in possession of your sketchbook. She must have grabbed yours on mistake when she was packing up quickly. You lightly sighed as you pulled out your phone to text her about the accidental switch-up. She replied instantly just realizing the mistake herself, then invited you over to switch them back and possibly hear some of the songs they were working on, looking for an outsider's opinion. You hesitated in saying yes, did you really need your book back that bad? Sighing, you sent back an okay and asked for an address, as nervous as you were to hang around the guys, more specifically Luke, you remembered how excited Julie was to go over the new song, the one that was probably sitting in the book you were holding in your hands. You threw on a light jacket and grabbed your backpack, for reasons unexplainable to you it just always just felt safer to walk around with a backpack on, and you were on your way to Julies. You could feel your nerves rising with each step you took towards her house, by the time you stood at the end of her driveway you felt like your heart was in your throat. “Calm down, (y/n), it’s just a little hangout to get your book back and hear a few songs, no biggie, nothing to fret about at all.” you whispered to yourself, taking one last deep breath before continuing your walk up her driveway. You had just come into view from the garage when you heard Julie calling out your name. “(Y/n)! How was your walk?” Julie ran out to meet you, now walking beside you into the garage. “It was good! You actually live closer to me than I thought, it was only like a 15 minute walk,” you smiled at her and you continued the small talk until you looked up and met eyes with the brunette guitarist. “(Y/n), these are the guys, Alex, Reggie and Luke,” she introduced them to you and you raised your hand in a wave. “Yeah, i’ve seen you guys perform before, you’re all really good!” you smiled and met each of their gazes. “Thanks! And that was all our old stuff, just wait until you hear what we have coming, um..” Luke stuttered realizing he didn’t know your name. You went to say it but Alex beat you to it. “(Y/n) you idiot,” he hit the back of Luke's head, while rolling his eyes. A blush rose to Luke’s face and he laughed it off. “I-I knew that, I-I just-” “You’re at the school for dance right?” Alex spoke again, interrupting and trying to take the attention off of the stuttering Luke. You smiled and nodded. “Yeah! I’m on a dance scholarship, so that's my main focus but my second is visual art, which reminds me,” You take your backpack off and pull out Julies song book, “here’s this!” She smiles and takes it from you. “Ugh thanks so much, I don’t know what I would have done if I lost this, Reggie can you grab her sketchbook? It’s on the piano!” Julie opened her book and smiled looking at the page. “Oh wow,” you heard Reggie mutter causing everyone to turn to him, “(y/n) this stuff is like, really good.” You blushed and looked down at your feet, you’ve never been good at accepting compliments. “Dude, boundaries!” Julie muttered reaching for the book, but Luke got to it first, taking his own turn looking through the pages. Your heart jumped when he started smiling at the pages he was flipping through, you didn’t have anything in there that you kept hidden, it was just that no one had ever gone through your work before. “You have so many different styles, this one is like a cartoon, but then the next one is like hyper realistic.” Luke looks up to make eye contact and you felt a blush rise to your cheeks. Alex took the second of him being distracted to pull the book away from him and hand it back to you. “I’m sorry for them, they still haven’t figured out what it means to respect someone's privacy.” He narrowed his eyes at his two bandmates. “You know,” you opened the book in your hands to search for a particular page, “I actually have something of each of you individually. I sketched them out the night after I saw one of your guys’ gigs.” You scrunch your face in concentration, you feel everyone rush to stand behind you when you finally find it. You look around at them to take in their reactions, their eyes were all glued to the papers you were displaying in front of you, Reggies mouth falling open. “Oh! Is this why you asked for the pictures my dad took of that night?” Julie looked up at you. “Yeah, I wanted to be able to add the details of everyone's chosen instruments and get some added information on where the highlights were from the lights,” you looked at each of their faces again and made a rash decision to gently tear the pages from your book, handing them to each respective person. Each person held them gently in their hands, then looked up to you in amazement. You just shrugged your shoulders in response, not knowing what else to say. “Well,” you looked out the window and saw the setting sun, “I better start my walk back to my house, it’s getting dark and I wanna get back before that happens. Enjoy the pictures guys!” You smile and turn to walk away, all the band still shocked to silence. “She’s never torn a page from her book before,” you hear Julie tell the boys as you walk further down the driveway, smiling to yourself. It was true, you never pull pages from your sketchbook, not this one at least, it was the better quality of all the other ones you had. You typically just used the less expensive books for class, you go through all the pages so quickly you didn’t want to waste the one’s in your higher quality notebook for the rough sketches, but the pages that you drew the band on were in the higher quality notebook, you had taken the time to really get them right, and they turned out fantastic. Your mother had always told you to spread joy where you can, and after seeing all their faces you knew that it was only right to let them have the pages that they were looking at. You arrived home and couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, there might be something there with them, an opportunity to make new friends, to open up. This idea makes you both nervous and excited, you let these thoughts and ideas later lull you to sleep. --- The next day at school you were walking to your locker when Julie caught your eye, she was waiting in her phone by your locker door. You would usually see her in passing in the mornings, but this is new. “Hey Julie, what’s up?” You greet the curly haired girl at your locker. “Hey (y/n)! Not much really, just watched to catch you this morning and run an idea past you…” She smiles and looks around her before returning her gaze back to you. “Okay? Is everything alright? You seem nervous,” you giggled at her antics and went back to putting the combination into your locker. “Yeah, yeah, I just know you take a while to open up and get close with new people, and I don’t wanna rush you into anything you aren’t ready for, but the boys and I were wondering if-” She gets cut off by a yell from down the hallway. “JULIE! HAVE YOU ASKED HER YET?” You turn to see all three boys running towards you, Julie facepalming at Reggies yell. “Geez Reg, she literally just got here. There's no need to yell,” Julie rolls her eyes at them and looks back to you. “Anyways, we were wondering if you wanted to make more designs and stuff for the band, like for posters and maybe album art one day.” She smiles at you after finishing. “You-you want me to… really?” Your eyes widen in shock. “Yeah! We all really like what you did with those portraits, and you’re pretty chill letting us keep them and all, we want you to be a part of our band, even if it isn’t you on stage with us, you’ll keep things looking cool.” Luke says as he leans against the lockers beside you. “Plus, then you’ll be able to hang out with us more!” Reggie pipes in. They all look at each other then back at you. “So,” Alex smiles at you, “What do ya think?” A million thoughts fly through your mind at once, they really want you to hang out with them more? They liked what you did? You looked at them all, looking back at you, and smiled. “I’d love to.”

tag list ✨

@gia-kerks​ @fangirlangioma​

[marksinn]

Passion Project: Inspiration

I don’t think I’m starting at the beginning with this post. Keep your eyes peeled for later posts that explain what I’m doing and why.

After a month of thinking about, sketching and painting designs, I have finally done something. Essentially, recently watching two films has pushed me into action, and a part of me is ashamed to admit it. There isn’t a word count or any typesetting to curtail my thoughts here, so strap in.

When I created this brief I figured I’d draw a million wee skateboards, colour a few of them in, then fling my favourites into Adobe illustrator and make them look good. From there I would take the 5 best up to the skatepark and ask some of the patrons there which designs stood out to them. Next, I would adapt the three front-runners and create sweet PhotoShop mockups that would show what my designs would look like as skateboards. If I had the time, inclination or money by the end of the project, I would have the design laid onto a real skateboard (I’ve been looking to buy a new one for some time) and then be proud of myself.

So I’ve drawn some wee skateboards. Then I started upscaling the designs onto the floorboards of my loft:

This was an exercise to let me see how small things need to be adapted to be blown up. Skateboards can have any level of detail that you like on them, I hadn’t considered this until I was trying to draw a semi-perfect triangle for the traffic cone, or until I was using chalk to recreate four cubes. It’s also been fun to work with different media on chipboard - I have learned that most kinds of pencil, paint, chalk and charcoal do not like being used on chipboard. Decorating paint, however, has no such issues. Thanks, Dulux!

And so, with a few of these under my belt, I decided to try some digital designs. So I jumped into Illustrator and totally ignored my sketchbook, coming up with three designs that were all inspired by the day I had just had. The top design, I’ll focus on last, for reasons that will become apparent (unless you follow me on Instagram, where you’ll already know that it’s an absolute hit, with over 19 likes already!). I was told by a guy at the skatepark that he likes decks with very basic designs, just a colour or two, nothing overly detailed. Another skater told me that he often likes the basic wood background with one small emblem or sticker just beside the wheels.

The duo-tone design felt nice, I’m usually one for over-complicating things. I definitely have an attitude of “If there’s more in it, there’s a greater chance someone will find something they like”. The first colour choice put my girlfriend in the mind of a hand-bag she had seen photographed in the arms of Carrie Fisher - it was designed to look like a Prozac pill. So I changed the colours up, and added the separating black lines and textures to give it some subtle character. I then went full meta with the Minimal design. And, if I’m being honest, I’m incredibly happy with how it looks like a wee character. Expect to see that making a comeback in the very near future. But the top design is what really got me going. 

I’ve recently been watching...

...Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, and have been loving Miles Morales’ multiple hobbies of graffiti, mixing beats and saving his neighbourhood from a variety of dangers. 

I then went to the cinema to see In The Heights, telling the tale of the Latin community during a blackout in North Manhattan. I found myself wrapped up in the romance, tribulations and music of the cast, and was felt oddly proud of Lin Manuel Miranda - who wrote this as a stage-musical while he was in college, had a modicum of success with it, then went on to create Hamilton, one of the most important musicals of our time. With the success of that particular show taking the entire world by storm, he was given the opportunity to make his old, relatively only semi-popular play into a blockbuster film. You can’t help but be inspired by someone like that.

I often find towards the end of a film I’m inspired by the characters’ journeys: be that from zero to hero, from lonely to loved or from rags to riches. Then I walk out and carry on with my normal life doing normal things. And as the hero of the story’s dreams all came true in the closing minutes (sorry for the spoiler, but it’s a musical, they rarely end in despair), a thought floated across my mind:

I’m utterly sick of being inspired

Now, to my credit, I did figure out in the car home that ‘tired’ would be a far more fitting and rhythmic word to use in this sentence, but this was a mentality that I found resonated really strongly with me. I’m very good at being inspired, I think most people are. We hear stories of people starting their own business, achieving some sporting brilliance or overcoming a personal hurdle and we say “Wow, isn’t that inspiring?” or

“It really inspires you to go out and make a difference!” or

“They are such an inspirational speaker!”

Then we go off about our day, not acting on the inspiration, and, for the most part, remaining uninspired. So I decided to act. 

I did some very quick research (/acquiring of images of graffiti) in order to get the right shapes and textures to create a spray paint effect in Illustrator. I did some very quick research (/confirming the colours) of South American flags, taking the blue and red used in flags of the home nations of Miles Morales from Spider-Man and Usnavi from In The Heights. And I created the top design.

YES! I had been inspired and I had drawn a wee picture to show that - I had acted on my inspirations!

Then I looked to my left and spotted three, blank skate decks that I had bought on a whim from Re:Ply (a wonderful wee company who do a great deal of charity work supplying boards to people who need them, selling boards to people who can afford them, and for a very reasonable fee, providing unusable decks to people who want to use them for artistic purposes). I realised I hadn’t acted on my inspiration, I had just drawn a few pictures of skateboards with the eventual aim of PhotoShopping them onto other pictures of skateboards.

So I took myself...

... into the city centre with a shoddily prepared speech: “I’m looking for some cheap, small cans of spray paint. I’ve no idea what I’m doing, or if I’ll be good at it, so don’t want to invest too much into this.” Hiding behind this self-deprecating shield I barged into multiple art-, pound- and model-shops and pleaded with the staff to help a young idiot out. Amazingly, a very kind shop assistant pointed me in the direction of Fat Buddha, a clothes shop I’d always ignored as it seemed a bit to “...” for me. I don’t know what it seemed, but I knew it wasn't my kind of shop. Happy to prove me wrong, the guys in there were super helpful and they helped me buy my first cans of spray paint. 

Now I’d spent money...

... and as a skinflint, that meant I had to get use out of my purchases. I had tricked myself into being inspired. Inspiration led me to the drawing, inspiration had led me to buy decks and the paint, now inspiration had to make me spray paint.

I’ll stop yammering on now. Essentially, I had planned on creating some analogue designs then digitising them (I’m guessing I should do a post on my brief, yeah? Might just upload the PDF to save me talking more), but then I found that I was doing the complete opposite. Genuinely accidentally. I had played with a few typefaces from various websites to get fonts that represented the ideas I wanted. The top one was semi-stolen (I can’t use the word ‘inspired’ any more in this post) from the end credits of In The Heights. The larger font is something of a nod to inspirational quotes you see on Facebook or on glittery frames in B&M.

I printed those out and cut them into stencils (very impressed that my digital boards have been drawn to a workable scale, thanks Maths). And after putting down a tack-layer (GRAFFITI JARGON (I think)) I sprayed the whole lot in blue.

Next, I tried to get a little fancy. Using cardboard blockers to create straight lines I added stars* (borrowed from the Puerto Rican flag) and made the bottom stripes vaguely reminiscent of America’s Old Glory.

I peeled the lettering off, and I’d done it. I may have to explain the overtly-negative inspirational quote to people, but to me it’s a clear sign that there’s no point in just being inspired, and that’s all I wanted.

A weight I didn’t know I was carrying was lifted from my shoulders. The plan was to possibly end up with a self-designed skateboard. And now I have one.

*Yes, I know they’re crosses.

[kazdoesntknow]

sorry for the stickers and lines in the latter image of leo, it’s the original one from before i got my sketchbook.

i ended up changing leo’s face. his right eye is burned, as well as his shoulder, and he’s blind in his right eye.

he wears goggles now- lightly based off of steampunk goggles. they read thermals, as well as zoom in and out. he’s also the only turtle who still has their mystic weapon- april still has hers.

leo’s really been through things. at his current age of twenty-one, he’s the leader of the team. though at sixteen, when he and his brothers went to fight draxum and most of the foot clan, he realized they were being overrun and he surrendered as a distraction so his brothers would be able to escape. he ended up being tortured over the next two years, as well as experimented on, but he eventually escaped and returned home, where he’s now planning on how to take his world back from the yokai, establish equality, and throw big mama and draxum away for their crimes, seeing as those two released shredder and made sure everyone else was shoved underground as the yokai had been.

he’s quieter now, and less quick to joke, and matured a lot faster than he should have. but somewhere in that heart of his, he’s still the same leon. he’s just struggling with how to express it.

he has a lot of mental disorders due to everything that has happened.

again, sorry for the stickers and stuff. that’ll go for just about everyone else,,,,

so this is raph. probably not the best drawn, i’ll redraw him soon, i promise that much. but anyway, as you can see, he’s got a few scars, and where leo has teal eyes, raph has green. ( aka i wanted to give them eye colors, and here they are. ) he’s twenty two, and during leo’s two years away, he’d begun to think leo was dead. but he blames himself fully for leo’s disappearance, and regrets not being the one to think of surrendering first. he doesn’t have his mystic weapon, though he does use his sais. once leo returned, he passed leadership onto him, because leo was the one who showed leadership and protected them all.

raph’s still his cuddly self, though his fear of being alone has gotten stronger, and he usually sleeps in mikey’s room to avoid waking up with panic attacks. he also has a strong fear of abandonment, and is terrified his brothers will leave or get kidnapped again.

also heavily blames himself for splinter’s death, even though he wasn’t fighting shredder with miko and casey.

stickers, yada yada. you get the gist.

anyway! this is the baby, mikey. i liked the addition of a bandana, so i threw it on him. he’s the youngest at age 20. upon leo disappearing, he chose to neglect the new way of life and pretend that nothing’s changed. upon leo’s return, though, he wasn’t quite sure what to do. he couldn’t seem to comfort leo. but mikey tried his best anyway.

during leo’s time in captivity, mikey was constantly with raph, bonding more heavily with his elder brother, due to donnie being more in his lab to deal with his own problems. mikey still loves to paint, and he simply wishes he could see sunlight again. he often plays video games with raph and does quite a bit of art- the lair is covered in his art, whether it be on canvases or walls. he chats about everything he wants to do.

he probably took draxum’s betrayal the hardest, seeing as he was the one the most supportive of draxum’s redemption. he wanted his two dads, and now, sadly, he has none.

and this is donatello, the last, but definitely not the least, of the turtles.

he fully blames himself for the abduction of his twin. fighting draxum was also very difficult for him, because his battle shell was torn apart ( again ) and he was carried home due to the wounds on his face and on his shell. he ends up cutting off his right arm for what he claims to be self improvement, though there is an underlying truth no one’s managed to dig out yet. he woud have cut off his other upon leo’s return, but leo had stopped him from doing that.

still a tech guy, he tends to isolate himself in his lab, save for whenever miko decides she wants to waltz in there like she owns the place. he doesn’t find her much of a bother because she’s usually pretty quiet. he’s still sarcastic and sassy, but he is very angry and defensive, and forgets to eat and sleep. he, though he would never admit it, probably missed leo the most because of their twin bond.

he has pilot goggles now, which is pretty neat, i think. they’re modified by the mystic crystals, though, so they work the same as his old ones did.

this is casey jones, age 22. living,,, somewhat his best life.

he met the turtles when he was fifteen, while he was out being a bit,,, crazy on the streets and doing his vigilante thing. he’s played hockey since middle school, and absolutely loves it. he’s learned hand to hand combat, and at school, he’s close friends with april o’neil. though at first, he had no idea she knew about the turtles until she went to introduce him to them, and... well, it just hit him. he was like “hey, i know those guys!”

he went with miko and splinter to help in stopping the shredder, and feels pretty sad about splinter dying, so he does the usual thing: vigilante shit. he fights off yokai who are harming humans or mutants, with the help of april and mayehm. he has hockey sticks, golf clubs, and baseball bats.

overall, casey’s a fun guy to hang out with. currently, he’s working on building up a resistance group to fight back, with leo’s strict instruction. in previous years, he was doing it on his own accord.

APRIL O’NEIL! age 21.

she’s pretty neat. has a scar on her chin that actually isn’t from fighting- her and casey were fucking around on the skateboard ramp in the lair and she fell and,,, chin scar. her jacket is immortal. her glasses are broke, though, and she had to tape them together, but she’s not too mad about it. in fact, she’s not too mad about anything.

she fought big mama with lavi, and though they lost, they managed to escape, and april still has her mystic bat. she snatched that up real fast when she bolted. she ended up forced underground, and she hangs out with her mom sometimes, and tries to hang out with casey vigilanting, and occassionally bugs donnie in his lab, or tries to help lavi pull the family back together- not to much avail.

she’s smart, and funny, and sassy. she’s the same as she was when she was younger, but she’s also gotten to be more independent and strong. she’s very confident, and though she’s been through a lot, she has a firm belief that they’ll win soon enough.

this is hizashi mikoto, an oc.

she’s a small. age 21. she’s formerly a business CEO, despite her young age, and graduated from MIT at the age of 15. she was raised in japan until she was twelve years old, and upon the death of her father and sister, she ended up moving to america with her mom. when she turned fifteen, her mom ended up dying as well to a foot clan attack. her relationship with her mom wasn’t the best- her ninja mother was fascinated with science, especially mutations, and inserted tiny bits of chameleon dna into her daughter through spars with swords. miko’s now partially chameleon. she met the boys by literally falling in on them. chasing down a few criminals vigilanting, she ended up falling into their lair and spraining their wrist when she was fourteen years old.

she fought the shredder with casey and splinter, and heavily blames herself for splinter’s death. she’s in love with technology and science, having of built a company off a computer chip she developed when she was twelve years old. so her favorite spot in the lair is in donnie’s lab. but she also likes to spar, and write on occassion, and is sometimes found watching tv with mikey.

this is lavi, the last oc.

gunslinger. she was born in watertown, new york, where her mother had abandoned her before her father found her and her little brothers in their home, but spent most of her life in maine, until conflict caused her to move away from her family and live with her mémé ( great grandmother ) up in new york. wanting to be a police detective and invest her time in chasing down cases at the age of fourteen, she ran around in a deep search for something to do, something to solve, and one of those days, she found leo. and literally just peppered him with questions about where she could go to find some cases to solve. and then they started being friends because “finding cases” turned into “spa day in the hidden city.”

after leo’s disappearance, she ended up searching for the turtle with donnie. the two were relentless in their searching, but two years later, they ended up finding him because he had broken himself out. she tries her best to comfort him as she had the rest of the turtles and their friends.

often passes out in a pile of pillows. leo usually throws a fluffy blanket over her.

but yeah! those are the main characters,,,, lemme know what you think!

[pepprs]

[DONT RB] ok so there’s no way for me to talk abt this that isn’t gonna make me look like an absolute dumbass but im in the middle of a creative existential crisis and i rly need help figuring it out :•( this is gonna get SUPER LONG so im putting it under a readmore. thank u to anyone who reads this!!! and double thank u to anyone who can give some input / advice, i rly rly appreciate it. im sorry abt the length!

aight so for some background.... ive been drawing n writing poetry for abt 5 yrs now and both of those things r rly important to me. in school im an english major w a creative writing minor (for the poetry) and i work as a graphic designer (for the art) so ive been growing a lot as an artist and writer esp in the past 2 yrs and im kinda workin towards one or the other (or ideally both somehow!) as a career. one of the biggest dreams ive had since i started seriously pursuing both of these hobbies 5 yrs ago is to publish a book of poetry that i design / illustrate myself, and also to have a portfolio online where ppl can read all of my poetry and see all of my artwork (both professional / work stuff but also archives of all of my sketchbooks since those r rly important to me!!!) and maybe even make some sort of online shop where ppl can buy my art (stickers, keychains, etc!) and my poetry books!

that sounds pretty simple right? WRONG!!!!!! why? bc im a fucking idiot! and there are several dumb things i do that make this dream completely impossible for me to achieve! love that for me!

so for starters... ive been posting (almost) all of my art and ALL of my poetry online for all 5 yrs ive been creating it. that’s bad because:

ive hardly ever used my real name (which i would want to use for the book / shop / portfolio), it’s been under my usernames / aliases that go along w them (p*pe, pep, pea, etc and related usernames that shall not be mentioned) and i started going by my real first name only abt a yr ago, but still maintain those usernames for the most part in conjunction w my real name

my work has been primarily been posted to d*viantart and tumblr which aren’t exactly the most uh... professional places to do that. not that there rly are many i guess lmao but still

my online persona on these platforms is rly like. lax and loose which is Cool And Quirky when brought into a professional setting if it’s done right i guess.... but im just immature and unprofessional. i swear all the time, i shitpost constantly, im incessantly tmi? and that’s not even it like it’s just a whole mess!

SO there’s that whole set of problems and like im just concerned because... i stopped posting art online last yr for the most part and a lot of the old stuff that’s on dA (since that was rly where i did it most) is bad and not worth sharing like that anyways, so im not as worried abt that. but my poetry.... i still actively post that online in all my messiness and candidness here and like. it’s rly not that hard to find me? like if u copy a poem of mine and put it in google it’ll pull up my dA right away! and that’s like.... GOD i just am embarrassed for anyone irl to see that or for that to be connected with my irl / professional self in the future, but i don’t want to stop posting my work there (or here!!!!!) bc the community is so supportive and ive made some rly good connections / built a lot of traction over the 5 yrs ive been doing it. (PLUS for the online portfolio i wanna do specifically... i kinda want to post all of my art and poetry there, like everything ive ever done (specifically poetry, ive written almost 500 poems over the 5 yrs ive been doing it!), but i feel like that’s not rly the most professional thing to do and idk how to even gauge whether it is or not :-/)

but that’s not all!!!! because there’s another part to this and that is: the very nature of the content i produce is Not Good! for my art it’s not as much of a problem bc since I work as an artist rn a lot of what i make is professional, but for my personal art... a lot of that is either self portraits or my characters and a lot of my characters are like. animals. like specifically pepe (who is basically Me As A Cat).... i draw her constantly and so much of my best work is of her but it’s just like? embarrassing i guess for my ocs to take up so much of my portfolio and sketchbooks and stuff and share that. like i know everyone has characters and it’s not bad to do that and share that but i feel like ppl will judge me :-( so it’s made me rly hesitant to post stuff to my art ig for example bc i just don’t fucking know how to act, like it’s bad enough that i can’t type the way i want to and i have to type in proper caps n whatever instead bc irls i don’t know / trust as well follow me (including some ppl from work? Yikes?)....... but i feel like i can’t share my sketchbook stuff for example bc it’s all cats and my characters and visual shitposts and im uncomfy to share that bc like... im almost 20 and i don’t want ppl to think im immature or whatever? i kno i should feel like it’s my account and i can post wot i want but like. i fucking can’t bro i just can’t!!

and THEN.... my poetry. that’s the biggie bc like for my art? even tho im uncomfortable i don’t mind sharing that w ppl i know irl but for my POETRY.... it’s very easy to find like where i share that i guess? (the google thing i mentioned earlier but also its linked to my art on here and dA too... f) but i literally never actively share my writing w irl ppl unless im performing @ an open mic or workshopping in class bc im fucking terrified of the possibility of irl ppl finding my poetry. it’s almost ironic how public ive been w it online but how private i am abt it irl... it’s like im living a double life and it’s fucking terrible but it’s the only way i feel safe. bc like art is what i do for other ppl and also to destress and vent when i need a quick fix on my own time. but poetry.... that’s personal, it’s where i feel most like myself, it’s how i talk abt my life and ppl in it and make meaning of things and talk abt things authentically and Get Deep. and my literal worst nightmare is for ppl (who have the explicit ability to by virtue of Knowing Me) to read into it and Understand what im talking abt and have that power over me and see me differently for feeling the way i do or doing what i do. ive actually already been burned by this before after my mom read some work of mine that had been published irl (i don’t want to get too into it but basically i retroactively outed myself thru her reading that poem for what it was and it was Very Very Bad) and as paranoid abt it as i was before, it’s even worse now that it’s actually happened to me and could happen again at any time, esp if i decide to take my work further.

that manifests in a few ways too, like my writing is so cryptic and vague and very heavy on metaphors / symbolism and shit partially out of that deep fear and need to shield myself and my work. sometimes in spaces where i do feel comfy sharing, ppl have a hard time understanding my poetry unless i give context. online and on stage and in workshop ppl don’t rly know me outside of a context where the only thing we have in common is self expression thru poetry, so i don’t rly mind sharing more when it’s appropriate. but if i were to share my work as a book or w/e, ppl im close to (who maybe don’t always think like a poet / artist does bc they aren’t that) would want to buy it and read it and might ask abt what it means and i don’t even know what i would do in that situation. and if ppl were to read my work and see themselves / others in it, whether it is abt them or not, im scared it could genuinely damage relationships like it did with my mom.

SO UH.... idk where im going w this rly, i kno it’s long and rambly and melodramatic and im probably overthinking it and making a mountain out of a molehill and nobody even knows / cares abt me AND my work @ the same time enough to read That Deep into it. but it just fucking sucks that im so uncomfortable and insecure that i can’t comfortably fulfill literally the one single long term goal / life dream that i have. andthe thing that sucks is i can’t talk to Anybody abt this except like... my sister and brother bc they’re the only ppl i genuinely tell everything to, but they don’t have the knowledge and expertise abt art / poetry that like... my poetry prof does, for example. and my poetry prof is one of the best ppl ive ever met and the Only person ive ever met irl who respects and understands my poetry in the exact way i need someone to. she and i have been talking and she rly wants to help me publish my poetry bc she sees merit in my work and knows how bad i want to / how successful it’s been already, but i don’t know how to talk abt this to her bc im embarrassed to tell her abt posting online and being ashamed abt my muses and all that and it just!!! sucks so much bc i kinda want to publish my work @ least once before i graduate and do it semi regularly for the rest of my life? but there’s so much in my way and it’s just! FGGFHDGJGGGG

[hamilton-one-shots]

Hamilton High School AU 4

“Yeah, of course.” Alexander nodded. “Whatever I did, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Good. Um..” He made sure nobody else was around before turning back to Alexander, looking less defensive and way more upset. “I don’t live at home anymore... I live on my own.”

“What? Why?” Alexander asked worriedly.

“My dad kicked me out... That’s a story for another time, though. Just please don’t tell Laf or Herc... I don’t want them worrying about me.”

Alexander hesitated before nodding.

John sighed. “Thank you.. That girl you saw me drawing, that was my sister, Mary... I miss her and my other siblings and I just got emotional back there.”

“Understandable.. I’m really sorry..” He didn’t think it was possible for him to feel worse about wrecking the painting. “And about the painting, if you don’t finish it on time, I could always-”

“No. I know what you’re going to offer and the answer is no. I don’t do handouts. Nothing personal, okay?”

Alexander opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out. He knew there was no changing John’s mind, so he closed his mouth and nodded.

“Good. Thank you.” He smiled. “Do you want to eat lunch outside? It’s quiet. Not to paint, just to sit. I don’t feel like dealing with Jefferson right now.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Alexander followed him outside to where John painted, sitting against the wall with him. “So... Tell me about yourself. I noticed you like turtles.” It was hard not to considering the fact that the front cover of most of John’s books were covered in turtle stickers.

He smiled. “Yeah, I do. It’s weird, but I’ve just always been fascinated by them.”

Alexander nodded. “Do you have them as pets?”

John shook his head. “No, I don’t really have the time to care for them. I wouldn’t want to do that to them, you know?”

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

“That would be cool, though.”

All of a sudden, Alexander wanted to buy him a turtle. After all, with the trouble he caused him, John had been nothing but nice to him, which was more than he could say for almost anyone else. And John was somehow different from everyone else, too. He didn’t so much as get irritated around him and he wasn’t the type to try and change him and his anger issues because he’d had his own. John was just... He was great...

“... Alex?”

“Huh?” Oh, god, had John been talking to him all that time?

“I asked if you had any pets.”

“Not now, but George said I could get something today.” That wasn’t true, but he was sure it wouldn’t be too much trouble, right?

“Oh, that’s cool.” He smiled.

“Want to come with me? You seem like you know a thing or two about animals.”

“Yeah. That sounds like fun,” he replied, smiling a bit wider now.

“Great. We can all go after school.”

“Yeah, that would be great if we didn’t have detention.”

Alexander groaned. He’d already forgotten all about that. “We can just go after, then. I’m sure Laf won’t mind too much, right?”

“Knowing Laf? No, he won’t. It’s settled, then.”

Alexander nodded. “Yep.” And a quick conversation over text during his next class ensured that he would not be getting into deeper trouble.

“What are you doing, Alex? Adams will kill you if he sees that,” Lafayette warned. “He already gave you detention.”

“How would you feel about going to the pet store tonight?”

“Wait, what?” he asked, confused by the sudden topic change.

“Pet store. I want to buy some turtles, but I need a ride.”

Now it made sense. Lafayette smiled knowingly and nodded. “That sounds good. Right, Herc?”

He nodded, just as knowing as Lafayette. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

Alexander smiled. Things were going according to plan.

After class, Alexander dashed out to go meet John for gym, running right past Thomas Jefferson and leaving Lafayette and Hercules behind.

“He’s awfully excited. There’s no doubt that he’s going to see John.”

Hercules smiled and nodded, attempting to take Laf’s bag for him before it was snatched away. Not by Laf, but by Thomas Jefferson.

“Isn’t it a boyfriend’s job to hold that for you, sugar?”

Lafayette rolled his eyes. Besides being an awful bully, Thomas Jefferson was a notorious flirt. “And that is why Hercules grabbed it for me.”

“Aw, how cute. You’re letting him think he’s good enough for you.”

“He is more than good enough for me,” Lafayette snapped, snatching his bag away.

Thomas chuckled and followed as the couple walked out of the room. “I like it when you’re feisty like that. It’s hot.” He stepped in front of them and pressed a purple sticky note to Lafayette’s forehead. “Call me when you’re done with your little charity case here.” He smirked and walked off.

Lafayette grabbed the sticky note and ripped it into tiny pieces before throwing them into a trash can. “He’s disgusting. You know I only have eyes for you, right Hercules? He’s being stupid.”

Hercules nodded, though not completely convinced... “Yeah, I know.” He kissed Lafayette’s cheek.

After school, Alexander followed John out of the locker room and started towards Adams’ class... But John didn’t. “Where are you going?”

“I’m not going to detention for something I didn’t do. And neither are you.”

“What?” Maybe it was something that Alexander would do, but he never suspected that John would.” But what if he calls your parents?”

John looked at him, a deadpan expression on his face.

“Right, sorry.”

And so, the two walked out and John led him to an apartment building. It was a bit run down, but nothing too bad, especially considering that John was only a high school student. He took him to the second story of the building and led him into one of the apartments. It was... More than Alexander expected, to say the least. It was well furnished and spacey.

“This place is nice..”

“Thanks. Art really goes a long way when you know what you’re doing.”

“I can tell,” Alexander nodded, sitting down on the couch with John.

“So, we have a good hour before we have to meet Herc and Laf at your place.”

Alexander nodded. “Can we draw again?”

John smiled. “Yeah, of course.” He got his sketchbook and a clean one for Alexander, then helped him draw some more.

Alexander loved that time with John. It felt like he was letting him into a whole other world, showing him a part of him that nobody else knew about and he couldn’t figure out why.

John knew exactly why. Drawing was always something that he shared with people he was closest to, with all of his friends and with his siblings and, now, with Alexander. It was nice to feel close to someone like that again... Wait, like what? John liked Alexander like a friend, didn’t he?.. No... He liked him as more, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

As for how Alexander felt... He knew he felt the same... He just didn’t know what to do about it. Not after last time...

No. John wasn’t like that. He was different, he just knew it. But how he would tell him about his feelings... That was the real question.

An hour flew by before either of them knew and John got up, getting ready to go to Alexander’s house, though the other didn’t move from his place.

“Alexander? What’s wrong?”

“I... Uh...” He took a deep breath. “You’re going to think I’m insane.”

John furrowed his eyebrows and sat back down. “What is it?”

And, for once, Alexander was glad that he was so impulsive.

[alliswell21]

The Christmas Box (part 2)

March, 1994

It had been three painful months since Peeta Mellark had the awful experience of watching his Granny’s coffin be lowered into the hard ground.

His heart was slowly mending, but sometimes he still got very sad, to the point of big, fat tears.

He walked into the back door of the bakery, feeling a little blue, he knew Granny was in heaven with Jesus, but he still missed her hugs and her sweet voice. He missed being able to share with her about his day, or hearing her delighted comments on a sketch he’d made for her, but most all, he missed going with her to the homeless shelters to help in anyway they could.

He was still too young to be around Downtown on his own, his mother wouldn’t allow it, and she wouldn’t accompany him either, so he was stuck depending on a person who didn’t share his charitable callings.

“Hi Peeta.” Said his father poking the dough that was proofing on the counter. “How was school, son?” He asked while sprinkling flour on the prepping table and dumping the dough on it.

Peeta shrugged, “It was fine I guess. Coach Thread announced tryouts for the wrestling team are next week.” He said knowing his father would be pleased about the news, the Mellarks had a long line of wrestling champions in the family, both his brothers were wrestlers, just like their dad used to be, and his dad before him, and so on.

“Hmm…” father made a curious noise at the back of his throat, causing Peeta’s eyes to lift up in his direction. “Are sure you want to try for it?” The question was unexpected but not unkind. “You know if you want to just do art with Mr. Cinna’s class that’s okay too. You don’t have to wrestle because is a legacy. You can choose your own thing.”

This took Peeta aback. He was good at painting and even sculpting, but he never thought of taking art over wrestling as extracurricular. Peeta was built for wrestling, just like every other Mellark. He was strong and knew many of the moves from years of rough-housing with his brothers. He peered at his father for any sign of disappointment or anger, but, he saw nothing of the sort.

“By the way,” father said, “you got mail. A letter. Over there on my desk. Grab a snack, and after you’re done reading it, come back to do the dishes. There’s also a whole tray of sugar cookies that needs to be frosted.” Father winked real quick, signaling it was time to go get his snack before work.

He sat on his father’s chair at his office desk, sandwich on a napkin- because he didn’t want extra plates to wash- and some water in a paper cup, because although father told him he didn’t have to become a wrestler to fulfill anyone’s traditions, he still wanted to try for himself, and he knew they were going to put him on a diet anyway.

He found a pile of envelopes waiting to be sorted, he made stacks for bills, junk and personal mail, and found the one addressed to him:

Mr. Peeta Mellark

12 Merchant St.

Panem, NC 01213

USA

He recognized the church’s stationary, he turned the envelope over, looking for a sender, but he found nothing else. Shrugging again, he started tearing it open. He’d find out who sent it soon enough.

Inside was a folded notebook page, with a sticky note attached to it. He frowned and pulled the post-it off to read:

Dear Peeta,

Somebody gave this to me for you. It’s a letter from the child who received your Christmas box, they wanted to thank you, but had no idea how to contact you.

Your grandma would’ve been proud.

See you Sunday!

Love,

Mags Shackleford (9th grade Sunday School Teacher)

Peeta’s eyebrows arched in surprise at the note, the Christmas box was the last thing he and his grandmother worked on together before her passing. He stuck the slip of paper on the surface of the desk and unfolded the notebook page.

He was welcomed by beautiful penmanship. The words were written in cursive with delicate loops and neat lines. There were no hesitation marks to show a mistake corrected by an eraser either. He was impressed!

He smoothed the page down, took a bite of his sandwich as far away from the letter, as to not drop any condiments on it, and read.

Hi Peeta Mellark! my name is Katniss Everdeen, I’m 11 years of age, I live in Manila with my mother and sister. My papa died five weeks before Christmas, and we were all so sad, but your beautiful present was just what we needed!

Thank you for the food, I think lamb stew with plums will forever be my favorite from now on, the bread was a little hard, but dipped in the stew was perfect! My mother and sister enjoyed it too! By the way, mama is American like you, she has golden hair and blue eyes and so does my sister, you look more like them than I do, but that’s fine, I look like papa, and I like being able to see him in the mirror when I look at myself. :)

Thank you again for the delicious Christmas feast you sent us. It was the best of presents. Please write me back if you can!

Your friend,

Katniss.

PS: I hope you like my picture.

He sat the letter down and looked into the envelope but it was empty. He wondered where could her picture have gone to. He reckoned he could ask Mrs Mags on Sunday to look for it. He read the letter again, wondering where exactly was Manila, he had never heard of it. He was also curious about her line about her mom being American like him. Did she meant that people in Manila weren’t white? Maybe a trip to the public library was in order.

He thought curious the most, that she only thanked him for the food. He had filled that box to the brim with everything and anything he could think of that was both funny and entertaining. He wasn’t sure who was gonna get it or where it was going to end up, so he covered all the bases, according to what he’d liked.

He took the last sip of water and closed his eyes to picture every item he had placed in that box.

There were a few toys, a yo-yo and some stickers, pencils, sharpeners, crayons, a sketchbook, glue sticks, socks, shoelaces, a book with nursery prayers, a tin of cookies, another tin with a Christmas bread, dense and hearty, filled with nuts and berries, the kind that’ll keep you going for a while just by itself, and at the last minute, he shoved in, two cans of his Granny’s favorite: lamb stew with plums, just because he missed her terribly and he thought she’d approve.

Lastly, he placed a picture of himself in the box. He had gotten his school portraits that week, and he had one less person to give a picture to that Christmas. He wrote on the back his name, age, grade and the words “Merry Christmas Friend!”

He sat back, staring at the letter in front of him, and decided losing a parent was even worse than losing a Granny, no matter how much you loved her.

He thought of his own father, just outside the door, baking bread. He’d be miserable if he’d lost his father. He thought of losing his mother, and even though she wasn’t as kind as his father, or loving as his Granny, he knew he’d be beyond sad if he were to lose her too.

He lifted a little prayer on behalf of all orphans, especially this Katniss Everdeen girl. She sounded like she could use the prayer too, and then he folded the letter back and placed it neatly in its envelope for safekeeping, before returning to the kitchen, to start on his chores.

[punkwithpaints]

Ungrateful Weeb (Weeb story #3)

So, my Junior year, my art teacher asks me to come over to her desk to talk to me about something. I was just hanging out in the art room (As usual.) I wasn’t a part of this class, It was like, Art 1 or 2, I forget. But I was hanging around anyway. She points out a new student, gonna call her CM. She tells me that she’s kinda shy, and is very good at color choices, shading, all that jazz, however, is not very good at coming up with original work/style. 

You guessed it, she drew anime.

Now, thing is, it wasn’t like, shitty, horribly draw animu. It was actually well draw and colored great. Considering this person only had access to crayola and sharpies, it was pretty awesome. My teacher asked me to go over and talk to her to see if I could convince her to step outside the anime territory and try something new. My confidence to stand up for myself had grown, but I’m the kind of person that waits for someone else to start the conversation usually. But, whatever, sure, I’ll talk to her. So, I head over where she’s drawing and kinda just look over her shoulder. I noticed she had a second sketchbook out and it was the same brand as mine. “Hey, I have the same sketchbook. They’re pretty good.” She looked up and seemed a little confused to have someone talking to her, but we got to talking and she warmed up pretty quick. She asked if I drew too, and I said I did. She was super excited and asked if she could see my sketchbooks and she would let me see hers. Alright, sounds fine. Now, she’s a little loud, but I can be too, so I don’t mind too much. 

I had my ‘regular’ sketchbook which was a sketchbook that I had whatever I was currently working on in it. I also had my Concept sketchbook with me, which had drawings and references for my characters I had created. So, pulled them out and sat them on the table for her, letting her decide if she wanted to look at both or one. Shit you not, she pulled out like, 5 sketchbooks, complete full. (They have around 60 pages per sketchbook I think.) Okay, whoa, shit, hold on. I signed up to see what your making now, not your life story. 

She doesn’t even touch my sketchbooks, just staring at me expectantly. I awkwardly take the sketchbooks and start flipping through them. Again, amazingly colored and not bad at all, but very ‘eh’ in the originality area. i just felt like I was looking through screenshots of varies anime’s and the google image page for the search ‘anime girl’ or ‘anime boy’. I told her they were nice, but she wouldn’t let me stop looking until I went through every single book. THEN she started on mine. It was odd to me, considering other artists who I’ve swapped sketchbooks with typically look through mine the same time I look through theirs. She flips through AS FAST A POSSIBLE (I tried to take my time, being nice to take time to look at details.) while basically screaming. 

“AHHHHH YOU DREW ALL THESE?!?! WOW. THAT’S CRAZY, HOW DO YOU DO THAT?!!!! I WISH I COULD DRAW LIKE THIS!!11! I HATE YOU. CAN i JUST HAVE YOUR TALENT PLEASE!!?!?!? OHMYGAWWWWWWWWWD!!!! I’M GONNA STEAL YOUR ART JESUS. CAN YOU MARRY ME?”

Okay, thank you for liking my stuff but holy shit. Honestly, I understand she was complimenting my art but I’ve heard the whole ‘I wish I could draw like this’. ‘Can I have your talent?’ (Not a talent, it’s a skill.) and all that so much it honestly annoys me to death. And to have them screaming while taking .2 seconds per drawing to look at it was even worse. You’re not even actually looking at the art, you’re just screaming. So I thanked her and let her keep screaming, very loudly all the way through my sketchbooks. This had gotten the attention of everyone is the class, who now, was staring at me. I was flustered and uncomfortable with not only the things she was saying, but everyone looking at me. Anyway, I finally tell her: “Hey,if you wanna maybe develop a style like this, you can always try drawing other things. Learning realism is a really important part of it.” She kinda just blew it off and kept gushing over Tokyo Ghoul and Black Butler, talking about she only drew anime and blah blah blah. 

Through out the year, she’d always run up to me, showing me a new drawing, and I always was supportive but tried to gently encourage her to draw something other than anime. She would only not draw anime if it was impossible to fit into one of the assignments. Pointillism? Anime character. Pencil drawing? Anime. Still life drawings were the only thing she couldn’t put anime in, and she complained the whole time. Thing was, she had a lot of potential to do amazing things with her skill level, but didn’t want to. 

At some point of time, she noticed my drawing were with markers. She asked:

“Do you use markers for your drawings?!?” I answered that I did and she continued with, “ARE THEY COPICS?!!!!!???” I just nodded and was like, “Uh, yeah, actually.” 

“OMFG COPICS OMG OMGOMGZDJDBFDSJ COPICS ARE THE BEST MARKERS I WANT THEM SO BAD OMG THEY’RE USED FOR MANGA AND I NEED THEM SO MUCH. CAN i HAVE SOME????”

Uh, excuse me? Can you have some??? No? Hell no? They’re expensive as fuck and I’ve saved up a long time to get the ones I have. I just kinda laughed, cause I thought she was joking. Nope, turns out she was begging for even just one of them. I told her no, that I couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t stop begging. I kept explaining that they we’re expensive and I had bought them with my own money. I tried to help her out by giving her the website that I got them from, but she said her parents didn’t let her buy stuff off the internet. Not my problem dude, go to Michaels or something. Eventually, she stopped asking. For that day. 

One day, I’m working on a piece. She had migrated to sit across from me since I regularly came into this class to work on stuff. I had my markers in my satchel, still in one of the 72 copic case’s, along with two of the 12 marker grey sets. (Warm and neutral) I’d like to say the 72 set was all bought individually, not as a complete set. I found buying them separately helped me get a color selection that was best matched to what I drew, and I wouldn’t have a bunch of marker colors I would never touch. I had been in the art room the period before hers, so I already had claimed my usual area with my markers sitting on the table by me. She came in, and all I hear is this high pitched screeching and she comes running over, grabbing some of my markers from the case to look at them. 

Don’t touch my shit. Especially my markers.

“OHMYGAWD COPICS!!!!! I’VE NEVER SEEN ONE BEFORE IN REAL LIFE!!!!! THEY’RE SO PRETTY! OMG LOOK AT THIS BLUE!! OMG NO THIS ONE! AHHHHH THEYRE SO NICE!!! YOU HAVE SO MANY!!!!!!!!”

I gently (as much as I didn’t want to be gentle) took the markers back and put them in the case, kinda just being like, “Yeah, they’re great. I’ve saved up for a long time now. Thanks.” She wouldn’t stop freaking out over them, as if they were the damn Holy Grail. I mean, I get it, it’s a nice marker, but damn. She kept telling me how badly she wanted copics and would die just to have a few, all the while, staring at me expectantly, as if I’m gonna be like, “WELL GOODNESS ME! Let me just give you mine! Of course!” She realized I wasn’t budging and kinda pouted. 

Now, as I’m coloring, I see this hand just slowly reach for my markers that are out of the case and laying by my sketchbook since I’m using them. I look up, and she acts all surprised I caught her and laughs. “I was just gonna burrow one to see how they work!” Nope. You’re watching me draw, you can see just fine how they work. I try and tell her no, but she snatches up the blue one she liked so much, and scribbled it on her paper, gasping dramatically and squealing. “IT’S SO PRETTY!!!!!!! I LOVE THIS COLOR!!!!!!” 

Excuse me, what the fuck. 

So I get my marker back and tell her more or less not to use anymore. 5 minutes later, there she was reaching for my markers again. Are you shitting me?

I just looked at her and shes like:

“HAHAhahahaa lol can I just use them to color in the skin of one of my drawings???”

No.

“Oh come on! Please???”

No, my skintones are running low on ink and I need to buy refills. 

“Well, can I color in the eyes at least?”

No. They’re expensive and my parents wouldn’t be very happy about me letting other people use them...

“Just really quick!!!!!!! *grabs for my markers again*”

I once again, pulled the markers away and very firmly said no. I knew that if I gave her an inch, she’d take a mile. So I told her no and she seemed to quit. However, she was obviously mad I wouldn’t let her use them. So, she started being a jerk instead. 

Over the course of that year, she constantly would make me feel bad for having the markers, asking if “It was nice being rich.” while complaining that she only had crayola. I remember I had went to Hobby Lobby at some point and had a coupon for an item. I bought a 12 set of Derwent Inktense pencils. Originally they were 35 dollars, but my coupon made them like, 15 dollars or something like that. They had one of those sticker price tags on the front of the tin. I had them with me one day, and of course, she snatches them up before screeching to the whole class, “*Dramatic choking and gasping sounds, accompanied by wheezing noises and clutching her chest* THIRTY-...THIRTY FIVE DOLLARS FOR 12 PENCILS?!!! GOD YOU ARE RICH!!!! WHO WOULD PAY THAT? ARE YOU STUPID?!!” I tried to explain I had a coupon and they were a great brand and was something I had been wanting to try, but no, she just kept yelling at me for it. “THAT’S SUCH A WASTE OF MONEY!!!!” 

Any time I would use my markers, she would of course try and get me to let her use them and try and just grab them. I would keep telling her no, and eventually kept the case in my bag, next to me and not on the table, so she couldn’t grab at them. She continued to bitch now about how I was ‘rich’ and I spent too much money on markers, obviously pissed I wasn’t giving her what she wanted and jealous. This continued through the school year, and when the art show rolled around, she looked at me as I was matting some of my marker pieces and gasped, “ARE YOU PUTTING THOSE IN THE SHOW????” Well duh, yeah. “Yeah...” “THAT’S NOT FAIR! YOU’RE RICH AND CAN AFFORD THOSE! YOU SHOULDN’T PUT THEM IN BECAUSE NONE OF USE CAN AFFORD THAT!.” 

Bruh. 

Whatever, if you’ve read my past stories, you know I’ve dealt with this shit for forever, and don’t care anymore but butthurt people. Senior year rolls around and she still sits by me and forces me to look at her 5,000 sketchbooks Every. Single. Day. EVERY PAGE. Child, I’ve seen it, a dozen times. I have nothing left to tell you.Remeber when I said that if I gave her an inch she’d take a mile? Senior trip was coming up, so all senior year I sold homemade brownies. I knew she didn’t normally have money, so the first time she asked for one for free, I let her. After that, every day she would whine and cry, trying to get a free brownie from me. Nah. So, Senior trips ends and I have close to 600 dollars or something left over, since I didn’t really buy anything while I was in New York.

I got back just in time to go on an art trip. We were visiting a near by college for art related things and decided that we could stop by a Michaels/Hobby Lobby after we left. I took my money I had left over, having rather spend it on supplies instead. I got in with my basket and go ahead, loading up on markers and pens, just things I had been wanting to try out. I checked out and came back to the bus with my bags. Sure enough, she see’s I have multiple bags and starts yelling, “WHOA DID YOU BUY ENOUGH?????!!! WHAT DID YOU BUY?!? THE STORE?!?!??” She then starts asking repeatedly how much everything cost. I really didn’t wanna disclose that information to her, considering I knew how she would act. (BTW, it wasn’t 600 dollars.) She basically forced me to tell her and kept screaming it to the whole bus while once again saying I was rich and stupid or spending that much money...wow it’s like I saved up money for a full year or something. 

During this year, the art classes were told they could enter into a contest held my Dole fruit cups. they created a poster or something. Winning school got money for the class, and also like, a shit ton of fruit cups. I don’t know man, it was weird. CM took part, and she actually did really good, considering she didn’t do anime. So, her poster won and our class got like, 500 dollars or something to spend on supplies. At this point, it’s toward the end of the semester, so my teacher asked me about CM. She had come from a low income family, kinda low class, and Miss B wanted to get her some markers since she always talked about mine. Fair enough, I’ll help you figure out a brand to get her. She tells me she’s not getting copics, since she’s only using a certain about of the winnings to buy CM markers while rest goes towards supplies we REALLY needed. Mama B decided on Dick Blick Studio markers. Good for beginners, but still around 150-200 dollars for a set of 48 or something.

Markers come in and she gives them to CM, who acts so happy and amazed, until Miss B left. 

Shit you not, this ass looks at me and goes: 

“Pffffft, what am I suppose to do with these????? I don’t even like markers! What brand even is this???”

Are you fucking kidding me. 

I got a note later that night on DeviantArt that said, “I wish I had your Copics still ;u;” 

Fuck you. 

She dropped out after that year.