kids memories

anonymous asked:

sorry if you've already been asked this, but how long have you been drawing for? i'm just starting to learn and you've been such an inspiration i love everything you do and gosh you're just a great person in general 😭

AAAAA WOW TYSM ANON!!! I’M SUPER FLATTERED <3!!! i’m actually a giant mess irl hgjfkdhgf bless…..
i’ve been drawing for as long as i can remember! i started really pursuing it hard in middle school though, around 6th grade!

strilondes & co stupid s’mores post

Karkat: his marshmallow is engulfed in flames. dave keeps telling him to take it out. this only makes him more stubborn. shut up I’m doing this my own way. he has created charcoal. it is disgusting. he’ll eat it anyway because dave will make fun of him if he doesnt. dave makes fun of him for eating it. he cannot win

Dave: he keeps making his marshmallow touch other marshmallows. except karkat’s because it is on fire. everyone regards this with benign amusement except john who keeps telling him to knock it off you damn doofus you are going to knock them off into the fire. challenge accepted. they are passive aggressively trying to knock each other’s marshmallows into the fire. in an inexplicable turn of events roxy wins. they didn’t even realize she was trying. dave blames john. john blames dave. roxy feels bad and makes them both perfect s’mores after. they accept this, begrudgingly. roxy sits between them. she puts her arms around the both of them. leans forward and innocently asks if there are any other challengers. no one accepts

Dirk: perfectly roasts his marshmallow. burns his hands pulling it off the stick. pretends that this didnt happen. is annoyed by how it is impossible to eat a smore without getting marshmallow shit all over his face. no one look at me. fuck, everyone is looking. rose is raising her eyebrows at him. jake is grinning at him. just eat it. come on

Jake: bets karkat he can eat more of them than he can. they lose track of who is winning somewhere around number nine. karkat accuses him of cheating b/c hes breaking off the graham cracker pieces outside the lines so his are smaller. jake calls him a whiny soft gut wiggler. karkat mashes a half melted marshmallow into jakes hair. they eat six more each and then bond over a mutual inability to endure even a whiff of the scent of marshmallow or chocolate without gagging for months thereafter

Rose: likes her marshmallows slightly burnt. makes fun of dave for barely toasting his. dave scoffs at her. you just like ur marshmallows the way you like your soul, black and shriveled. rose grins. why thank u dave. youre so sweet. she makes aggressive eye contact as she consumes half the smore in one bite. graham cracker and marshmallow go everywhere. god damn smores and their notorious structural instability. dave and roxy snort when they laugh. rose wipes her face with a paper napkin, balls it up and throws it at them. at least my marshmallows are warm inside. yours are cold & nasty and that’s the facts

Kanaya: doesnt super get it b/c lets face it sweets are kind of ???? when you’re a vampire who constantly craves the coppery taste of questionable liquid sustenance. she eats four anyway because it seems to be The Thing. It’s actually not the worst thing in the world. she slowly collects all the dark chocolate. these are mine. jane asks where tf the dark chocolate bars all went. kanaya looks up, a half melted marshmallow speared on her fangs, sucking the melty fluff out of the middle. it was definitely not me, she says, around a mouthful. uh. yes of course not, jane agrees. she sits back down. her eyes are v. wide. no one questions it again. kanaya privately delights at her good fortune. her story is rock solid and no one suspects her at all and now all these delicious bitter bars are hers and also half rose’s because she’s pretty sure that’s how human marriage works ?? ? ..?

Roxy: puts 7 marshmallows on a stick and creates a toasted gradient. eats the marshmallows directly off the stick. dirk informs her the noises shes making as she does this are borderline obscene. please stop. roxy makes aggressive eye contact as she eats the next one in line like a fuckin marshmallow corncob. dirk throws a marshmallow bag at her. roxy asks him if the marshmallow stick hes using has any relation to the one lodged up his ass. jake chokes on his 14th smore. jane apologizes on their behalf to everyone else present. roxy queues another 7 marshmallows, smirking

Callie: collects one (1) smore from everyone b/c she wants to try out everyones styles. she compliments them all effusively but secretly likes jane’s the best. she cant believe shes finally found this, a sweet that she can also roast mercilessly over an open flame. truly these are gods gift to cherubs. she eats them steadily with no sign of stopping. ppl begin to notice. they become concerned. they are running out of marshmallows. callie. callie we had like ten times as many bags as any reasonable group of people could ever hope to go through in one sitting. what is happening. callie waves them off. she’s still crunching away. she is Content

so patroclus is often portrayed as being kinda weak and in need of protection but i think we forget that patroclus is kind of a certified badass on his own ?? like he literally killed a kid over a dice game .. he went into battle dressed as achilles and people believed it was him .. like i’m all for protecting my soft gay son but its good to be reminded than he can and will kick your ass and i think thats beautiful

Random memorable npcs in pokemon games:

* the super haircut brothers
* I WANT TO GET OFF TRICK MASTER’S WILD RIDE
* Aqua grunt and magma grunt that fall in love in the postgame and give you their camerupt and sharpedo as they ride off into the sunset and my heart explodes
* Dr Footstep’s somehow leg-based fortunetelling hut
* That one asshole trade lady that sticks an everstone on her Haunter
* Guy who stands behind a tree and dispenses nugget-based puns 24/7
* CYRUS’S GRANDPA
* Mr ‘plasbad’
* Pokestar Studios
* Machamp trainer lady who tells you about her husband’s tragic death at the cemetary and gives you a TM
* Delibird berry man who roasts Team Skull to hell and back

Feel free to reblog with any of your favourites too!

No, Wait, You Got it All Wrong

You know what there’s not enough of? Canon compliant future fic where Stiles is a cop and he runs into Derek again. What’s that you say? There’s a ton of that?? Yes, true, but NOT ENOUGH.

“…. so then he says, ‘No, Officer, I swear to God this is the first time I’ve ever smoked up! I’ve never been in trouble with the law in my life! And I say, Billy, my man, you’ve been in trouble with me personally twice this month.” Stiles snorts at the memory. “Kid was so fucking high.”

Amanda must be halfway past tipsy, because she laughs uproariously into her beer at the mediocre punchline.

Stiles smiles. He’s satisfied with her reaction, with the warm murmur of the bar, with the buzz he’s got going… with just about everything, actually. After tonight, he’s looking at two full days off before he’s back on the beat, and the night’s still young. He leans back in his chair and takes a pull of his beer, savoring it.

Amanda glances towards the bar, probably considering a fourth round, and then visibly perks up as something near the front catches her eye.

“Oooh, Stiles,” she croons. “Look over at the door, like, just glance over.” She’s adjusted her gaze down at the table now, faking casual disinterest. Badly.

Stiles raises his eyebrows at her.

“This dude just walked in, he’s so your type,” she hisses. “C’mon, look! I’m telling you, six feet two inches of ‘yes, please, give it to me’ muscles, with some salt-and-pepper scruff icing. Unff.”

“Eh,” Stiles says, tipping his weight forward to hunch over the table. It’s not that he isn’t interested, exactly, but this is a cop bar and he doesn’t want to shit where he eats. Metaphorically.

“No, really,” Amanda insists. “He's… oh my God, he’s looking over here. He’s looking at you. Oh my God, Stiles, he’s coming over here!”

“No, he isn’t,” Stiles scoffs. He’s filled out a bit from high school and he’s finally competent at styling his hair, but he’s not that hot. Only Amanda’s sitting straight like a rod, eyes fixed on a point behind him that’s about where a six foot two man’s eyes would be.

“Stiles?”

He turns then, shooting to his feet before his brain’s quite caught up, because that voice is familiar like the back of his own hand.

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