TC: wHaTs WrOnG lItTlE bRoThEr?
AT: uHH, kARKAT, hE SAID I, uH, lOOK LIKE
AT: a, uH, sTUPID LITTLE NOOKWHIFF
AT: wITHOUT MY, uH, fRONT TEETH
TC: aAwWwW dOnT wOrRy AbOuT hIm LiTtLe BrOtHeR.
TC: I lOsT mY tEeTh ToO! sEe?
TC: NoW wE cAn GeT oUr BiG bOy TeEtH tOgEtHeR!
AT: lOVE YOU, gAMZEE
TC: LoVe YoU tOo LiTtLe BrOtHeR
TC: : o)
I forgot how much I liked these…
Coffee shop run ins
remember the WIP I posted earlier?
Wellp its done!
can someone give me a better title please?
ehrm, not much to say on this, except baby!Dave and baby!John!
and a bit of DirkJake
You scribble out another detail on what felt like your 10th draft and you erratically scribble lines all over the entire thing before flipping the page in frustration and starting out another. You hurriedly write the words “Concept art” at the top of the page before lightly touching the tip of your pencil to the paper. You’ve gone through so many unsatisfactory sketches that your brain is having quite a bit of trouble re-booting and the incessant buzz of conversation and static-y jazz music blaring out from the shitty speakers really isn’t helping.
Sighing, you look over at the reason why you aren’t in your apartment, working at your desk, in your nice, quiet room like a sensible person. It was busy staring at its surroundings, which reflected clearly in his huge, shiny baby shades like a tiny, freckled, blonde camera.
Your name is Dirk Strider and sometimes you really dislike your son.