Hey, I got sidewalk chalk that has more than just six pastels! And to celebrate… of course… …Someone seriously has to give me some requests (that I can do) because if not I will be drawing Sweeney Todd forever…
Pretend you’ve never met, then loudly try out lame pickup lines in a swanky bar. Act like they worked.
Go on a walking journey and every fifteen feet draw a chalk arrow in the direction you’re going. At the end of the trip, leave a big pile of chalk.
Create photo evidence suggesting that you went on an adventure that didn’t really happen
Go for a drive. You can only make right-hand turns. When you finally get stuck, turn around and then you can only make left-hand turns. Repeat until you find something interesting. Take pictures along the way!
Build forts out of furniture and blankets, and wage war with paper airplanes.
Go to a major chain bookstore, and leave notes to future readers in copies of your favorite books
Write a piece of fiction together. Outside at a cafe. Ask strangers when you get stuck.
Try and visit as many people as you can in one night, and turn as many things inside their apartment upside down as you can, without them noticing.
Do the lamest tourist thing in your area that you have both secretly wanted to do forever. Have an unabashed good time!
Hide and seek in the park
Go around the city with sidewalk chalk and draw hearts with equations inside on random things
Drive somewhere unknown and have dinner in a city you’ve never been to. With fake names.
Go for a drive with the passenger blindfolded, choosing directions at random. see where you end up
Dress up as pirates, commandeer shopping carts, and have a war upon the high seas.. er, parking lot.
Go on a search for as many good climbing trees as possible, climb as high as you both can in all of them, compile photo evidence
Rent a movie you’ve never seen before. Set on mute and improvise dialogue.
Dress up as pirates and go parrot shopping at local pet stores
Go to the airport, get the cheapest, soonest departing flight to anywhere when you show up, and stay there for a weekend.
Walk around a city and perform short silent plays in front of security cameras
In the middle of the night, drive to the beach, so you arrive just as the sun is rising. Have a breakfast picnic, then fall asleep together. Bring a sun umbrella.
Did a Crayola sidewalk chalk and BBQ charcoal drawing of Mephisto from Lolirock. It’s not perfect but it’s kinda hard to draw Lolirock style since I haven’t practiced it more than a few times, and drawing in chalk makes everything harder XD
Also here’s the shot of Mephisto I used as a reference
As she learns about her world in the After, Eleven finds that it’s the little things in her life that make it so special. It’s painting her nails each a different color while Nancy rambles on about the happenings of high school. It’s sneaking the whisks from the electric mixer while the cookies are baking to eat the raw dough with Will. It’s watching old movies with Dustin on a staticky television with bright colors and busting into laughter when either of them quotes the movie days after. It’s keeping a shoebox of mementos–movie tickets, dried flowers, Polaroids that didn’t turn out right–that Hopper has almost accidentally thrown out five times (and promptly had a lecture on the fondness behind each memory from El). It’s wearing an NYU hoodie nearly every day of winter so she can proudly say that her big brother is there. It’s the smell of dusty furniture in the Wheeler’s attic where Holly insists all the best toys are. It’s calling out whoever ate all the M&M’s and peanuts out of the trail mix on their summer hike. It’s finding a comfy chair in the library with Mike, losing track of the time as they pore over a stack of books higher than the tops of their heads. It’s sidewalk chalk drawings of her favorite superheroes with Lucas smudged by bicycle tires and bare feet.
It’s the little things that bring the most joy, little flames of happiness when her deepest memories are consumed in darkness
Tuesday’s day-old special was supposed to be sourdough bread,
not an underpaid delivery boy rapidly turning colors in a pool of his own vomit
on Bill Adama’s storefront. “This is going to be bad for business,”
Not that he didn’t feel for the kid – Karl was kind of a
self-righteous pain in the ass on the best of days, but he showed up on time
and his receipts always evened out at the end of his shift. He might have taken
a little too long on deliveries and come back smelling like flowers – and occasionally
with a giant hickey – but he wasn’t a bad kid.
Not a bad kid, but most definitely a dead kid, and Bill had some
calls to make before he started prepping the day’s orders. Somewhere in his
file cabinet, he had the forms Karl filled out before he started this job,
forms with an emergency contact number.
Dan and Phil Soulmate AU: Soulmates share dreams. When people are young, they don’t dream at all. About half the world will never dream. But, the ones that do will live out amazing adventures or peaceful fantasies from the comfort of their own bed. However, when Dan begins to have repetitive nightmares, he’s certain his soulmate is in grave danger. Amidst confusing pleas from his mysterious lover and clues that reveal something ugly, Dan might find something far worse than he ever expected.
Dan shifted uncomfortably on the cold metal, the thin paper crinkled beneath him and pretended to make the patient’s table more comfortable. The only sounds were the clock ticking and his own breathing- it was so quiet Dan could’ve sworn he could hear his own heartbeat. His tried to keep his eyes glued to his phone but they wandered, scanning the posters advising patients wash their hands regularly and cover their coughs. There were flyer holders that held promotional pamphlets for every drug you could imagine- opiates, heart meds, blood clot prevention, painkillers specifically for arthritis, and SMD treatments (soulmate dysfunction, which was recently named an actual mental disorder. It was basically for sad people who didn’t have soulmates and wanted to be special. The “treatment” was a strain of hallucinogen. Dan felt pity for anyone desperate enough to try them.)
The door gave an irritated squeak when opened, and the doctor walked in. He settled himself somewhat awkwardly on a rolling stool, like he wasn’t quite sure how to go about it. Once he’d adjusted his uncomfy bird-squat to his satisfaction (but not Dan’s, who was trying not to cringe), he tapped his clipboard with the butt of his pen and cleared his throat. His absurdly sharp adam’s apple bobbed when he spoke and each time Dan flinched.
“This is actually a pretty common issue, Daniel. You don’t hear about it often, but many people have this issue. It’s a variation of SMD,”- Dan rolled his eyes, mentally- “Where instead of dreaming with your soulmate, you actually have night terrors.
"It’s typically caused by your SM having an anxiety disorder of some kind, but without being able to contact her,”-Dan’s eyes rolled harder- “there’s no way to advise a psychiatrist visit and find out for sure. As for your eye, I’m not certain the cause. It’s possible you have an oddly strong connection with your soulmate, which would allow the events in dreams to effect you in real life. You still have depth perception, though, which is odd…
"I’ll prescribe Xanoxillus, it’ll stop your dreams for now. I’m sure you’ll want to start dreaming again eventually, but stopping the night terrors will be best at the moment. We don’t want it to have negative effects on your health, son.”
Everything the doctor had said was so negative. Eventually could be a long time from now. Despite all the bullshit that had been going on, with his eye and Phil’s vague posts, he still felt very much connected to the other man. Something deep inside him quivered and tugged whenever he saw a post from him, or got a glimpse of him through the living walls of the Treehouse. He only knew his face from four pictures he’d studied a while ago, and the memory was fading.
He unlocked the door to his flat, Bandi coming to greet him by glaring at him until he threw her a treat, and then rubbing her head against his knee in brief affection and retreating. He set the bag with his prescription in it down on the counter. The instructions said to take every evening with dinner. It was only 6:00. He opened his computer, still logged onto MentalMingle from the night before. He pulled up Phil’s profile again, and this time opened the pictures of him.
He zoomed in to each one, staring into Phil’s blue eyes, taking in his dark hair and pale skin, memorizing every line and spot on him. Some deep need in him pushed him to remember Phil tonight, maybe even save him. He came to the picture of Phil on the sidewalk again, drawing in chalk. He was looking up at the camera and smiling but there was something sad in his eyes.
His eyes scanned downwards, looking at the words scrawled on the ground in pink. They were backwards and upside down, but with a little effort he was able to make out what it read.
“Dan- MM: 1987_PL_! BB: 008724_SpAgPL Remember.”
He tilted back in his office chair, covering his mouth with his hands. He looked at the upload date. April 15th, 2017. Almost exactly seven months ago. Dan had only been dreaming for six months.
He audibly gasped in shock, amongst other things. The world seemed like it was spinning. He found himself rubbing his blind eye, unsure what to do. Phil knew about him before they were even soulmates, somehow. It was all so immensely complex that it gave Dan a headache right behind his eyes. He must have sat there, stunned, staring at his screen for a few solid minutes, because his ringtone snapped him out of it and left him blinking away spots. He answered.
“Hi, Dan!” A chipper voice greeted.
“Hey Dodie, what’s going on?” The voice of his old friend soothed him a bit.
“Well, it’s been ages since I’ve seen you and I’m in town, so I was wondering if you’d be up for lunch?”
“Of course. You know I’m always free.”
“Great! I’ll see you tomorrow, then? At one? Meet me at Tenduvaga, the new sandwich place on 5th. I have to go, I’m kind of juggling groceries and my keys and my phone at the moment. Wanted to call before I forgot. See you then!”
There was a sound very similar to the sound of someone dropping their phone on the other side, and the line went dead. Dan ran his fingers through his hair. It’d be refreshing to see Dodie, after such a crazy week. She was always a positive ball of energy, happy and eager to cheer him up. He pushed away an old, cringey memory that tried to surface of a drunken kiss they’d shared at University.
Dan slept. He had eaten dinner but had not taken his meds. The urge to see and remember Phil’s face was just as prevalent as it’d been earlier, like having a name on the tip of your tongue. He hoped the feeling when he did see Phil would be like a facepalm and an, “Oh, duh.” He was on the floor of the Treehouse, but the vibe had changed. It went from ominous, quiet, and lonely, to happy and springy, with the sound of birds and the feeling of warm sunlight on his skin. He stood, and turning around, he could see the doorway. And, in the doorway- Phil.
“Oh, duh.” Dan whispered.
Phil beckoned him outside, which relieved Dan. He had nothing but fear related to the Treehouse. It was built in a forest meadow, and they sat cross-legged across from each other on the soft grass. It was more awkward and strange than their first shared dream. No touching or passion, just talking. Quickly. And quietly. It was like Phil thought a spy was lurking in their own heads, and Dan picked up on his anxious energy.
“How do you know my name?” Dan asked, starting with the first question that came to mind.
“I’ve known you for quite some time, Daniel. You haven’t known me but I’ve known you.” Phil said, smiling as though this was something Dan should be proud of.
“What does that even mean?!” Dan hissed, picking at the grass beneath him. Phil’s eyes darted to the side fearfully, as though he’d heard something. All Dan saw were the figures of black birds circling high in the sky.
Phil raised a finger. “I can’t say.” He picked up on Dan’s irritation. “I’m sorry, I would if I could. There’s more important things on your mind, anyways, I’m sure. Talk fast, we don’t have a lot of time. I’m not sure how long I can keep us here.”
“Fine. I found your message in the picture. What does it mean?”
“Passwords.” He said simply.
“Passwords for what?” Dan huffed. This man was impossible to get answers from. “You’ll find out when the time comes. I need to tell y-”
“Oh, and what happened to my eye? You said it was a gift, but now I’m just half blind!” Dan interrupted.
“It is a gift. You’ll see. I-”
“Stop saying ‘I’ll see!’ I don’t want to see! I want to know now, because if I have another nightmare I might very well wake up and not be able to see at all!” He was raising his voice now, and noticed that the black birds had gotten closer, although he was doubting that they were birds now. Their movements were off…
“Keep your voice down! Listen, you have to be careful of them. The..” Phil looked up and Dan could see the dread in his eyes. “Shit,” He whispered. “I can’t say. Be careful, please. Look out for the signs. For the greedy copycat. For the scapegoat. For the deadly- Dan, are you paying attention?"
Dan’s neck was craned up, eyes still trained on the sky. They weren’t bats, no… Something else. Leaves? They moved too independently to be leaves… Phil flicked him hard, right between the eyes. Dan recoiled, shooting him an offended glare. "I heard you! The greedy copycat and the goat.” He was trying to control his anger, sarcasm thinly veiled in his tone. Here he was, with the man who clearly had all the answers, and he wouldn’t reveal a thing.
Phil started to say something but stopped when he realized he’d lost Dan’s attention again. Now they were both fixed on the creatures buzzing above them. Many more had joined from who knows where and now there were so many the sky seemed completely black. Phil tried to say something else but the creatures descended, drowning out whatever Phil said with the flapping of wings and swarming Dan’s face before he could make out what they were.
Dan woke up, his hands covering his face, Bandi staring at him in confusion. He got up, stretched, and went to take a piss. He glanced at the bathroom clock. It was only 3:00 am. His irritation with Phil started to return. Sure, there was probably a reason Phil couldn’t tell him everything, but the fact he wouldn’t talk even in their own dreams- it unnerved him. So he made a decision. A strange, morally twisted decision, in that he went to the kitchen, grabbed the Xanoxillus, and popped a baby blue pill.
Feeling better already, he collapsed back into bed, but his pillow was unusually lumpy. To the point he couldn’t possibly get comfortable on it. He flipped it over and that made it even worse. Finally- after about an hour of sleepily grappling with it- he flicked on his light, grabbed some scissors and sliced it open. Inside was a thick mat of feathers, tightened in a spiral, right where he lays his head every night.
He was too tired to think about it much further, so he set it on his bedside table and sunk into a blissfully dreamless sleep.
I’m a total and complete weirdo but I decided that I want to play with sidewalk chalk. The first pic is me dicking around in pixlr after taking a higher quality snap of a JSE quote I randomly picked (also it made me laugh), the bottom pic was taken with my phone and just edited there. I can’t quite get it to look the way I want in pixlr yet, but I love trying to make pictures my bitch, so I’m still working on it.
I think this would be a neat artsy thing to do once I figure out how to get it looking the way I want because you can clearly see all the other sidewalk chalk drawings (hearts, the flipper of a whale, a bastardized version of the space shuttle) that I’ve already swept off the porch.
In real life you can’t see them clearly at all - they show up in the editing and I love that.
ANYWAY that’s enough of that.
I’m still learning but I am really interested in making this a Thing ™ so if there are any quotes or phrases or (easy) drawings you’d like to see me do - just drop me a note.
@septicquote I found this on your blog so thanks for the inspiration (^-^)
specializes in spray paint and graffiti-type of art, murals, sidewalk chalk landscapes, and charcoal drawings; especially in urban areas
can't art for shit but wishes he could draw anime/ manga style
loves watercolors, knitting/ crocheting, cupcake decorating, drawing cartoonish cute things like bunnies, and making crafts with lots of pastel colors, ribbons and bows
the most artsy he gets is drawing stick figures
likes to sketch machinery, cars, steel buildings, aircrafts, steampunk, robots and sometimes Transformers
he's decent at doodling but dislikes traditional art; he tries to get modern with digital tablet-drawing and absolutely sucks at both line-art and coloring, usually rage quits
three words. AMAZING. TATTOO. ARTIST.
as expected, he's a great manga artist. however, he has very eccentric interests, such as anime-style body horror, guro, and hentai
likes doodling animals and nature landscapes when he's bored, usually when he's out camping and has a sketchbook
has a portfolio full of clothing designs, haircut ideas, and "draw me like one of your French girls" model poses
he always uses black ink for drawing and he's into dark themes/ fantasy. Some of his favorite things to draw are spiders, werewolves, faeries, demons, possessed/ worn dolls, grim reapers and ravens
SUPER. TALENTED. AT. CALLIGRAPHY. also, he likes to draw video game/ movie fanart, such as Prometheans and Predators
A nice Cheer Up Post masterlist full of art types and artists with unique talents. (Fashion, music, anime, jewelry, interior design, and cosplay are not included because they would make the list too big.) As with all my masterposts, this one will be updated regularly. Enjoy!
Ladynoir: Parisian skylines at dusk, the smell of leather, little scrapes and big grins, side-cramping laughter, mud on shoe shoes, copper on the back of your tongue, wind-tousled hair and sticky frozen treats, stolen liqueur and midnight dares, standing back-to-back against the world, cigarette smoke and dirty alleyways, moments stolen but kisses freely given, ‘everyone you meet comes into your life for a reason’, unquestioning trust
Ladrien: four dozen red roses with blushes to match, hiccupy syrup-sweet giggles and shy, glancing touches, the swoop in your stomach when you miss a step, love at first sight, summer storms, sunshine daydreams, afternoon naps, standing on an edge with your back to the wind, butterflies in your stomach, electric and new, jasmine and wet concrete, changing room trysts, thank-you kisses and Spiderman kisses and ‘I’m glad you’re safe’ kisses
Adrienette: pink cotton candy and chocolate-vanilla swirl ice cream, shakes at retro diners topped with maraschino cherries, sidewalk chalk drawings of initials in hearts, toasted vanilla beans and fresh-cut grass, breathless, fumbling first times, seven minutes in heaven, whispered secrets hiding the kind of longing that hurts, locker room love notes and fencing trophies and tournament after-parties
Marichat: worn PlayStation controllers and the remains of pastries, hand-quilted blanket nests, rain on window panes and fresh-baked bread, bubblegum bubbles, friends with benefits, mugs with cat puns printed in the sides, morning breath morning-afters and pillow fights, houses of playing cards and arguments over Uno, three A.M. pep talks and next-day ‘I told you so’s, affectionate gestures both unthinking and unabashed