“No! I haven’t seen him. Why would I? Do you guys want me to help you look for him? Because I can do that because I totally don’t know where he is.”
Look, Bitty loved Chowder like if he was his newborn child but he really didn’t know how to lie.
“He is hiding under the kitchen table, right?”
“No, guys, why would he? Wait! Where are you going? Are you really going to check? I am not lying! No, guys, don’t go in there!”
If the guys were going to discover where he was anyways he could at least stop hiding under the table and face them with what was left of his dignity after, you know. Hiding under the kitchen table just so they didn’t find him.
So he stood up, sat on a chair and started tiping on his laptop as if nothing had happened. As he did that, Ransom and Holster entered the kitchen followed by Chowder, who looked mortified.
“I am sorry Bitty but they didn’t really listen to me and I swear I was trying to stop them and anyways I don’t really know why you are hiding because you just came running and told me to lie to them but it can’t be that awful and I was thinking about that and I got distracted and I am so so sorry Bi–”
“Bitty, dude, we have the perfect date for you.” Interrupted Ransom, who apparently didn’t want to wait for Chowder to finish his long apology.
Bitty did a complain noise that sounded more or less like a dying whale trying to inform other whales that there was a dying whale close to them.
“No, look, you can do noises that you have probably heard while watching Looking for Nemo all you want but he is perfect for you. Like. Even we say that he is hot. We are telling you. You will fucking fall in love with his arms, dude.”
“Is it too late to go back to hiding under the table?” Bitty said as an answer, really not wanting to listen to them.
“Guys I think that I am going to try and find Dex and see if he needs help with homework. I’ll let you at it.”
“Yes. Bitty, really. You have to look at a photo of him. Ransom, do you have a photo of him? You two are friends on Facebook, right?”
Before Holster could know if Ransom and the dude were friends on Facebook and (thanks to god for that) before they could show Bitty a photo of the dude without a shirt on and start to tell him to admire his abs, a ring noise started to come from Bitty’s computer. He accepted the Skype call without even looking at who was calling.
An image of Jack, sitting on his apartment’s couch appeared on his screen.
“Hey guys how are–”
TELL BITTY THAT HE CAN’T IGNORE US WHILE WE TRY TO FIND HIM THE PERFECT DATE FOR SCREW, JACK!“ Yelled Ransom, getting dangerously close to the microphone of Bitty’s laptop. Apparently, too close, because Jack flinched and almost fell off the couch.
’‘Oh my god.”
“Bitty. This is the last year that we are going to be here for Screw you can’t do this to us.”
“Don’t try to make me feel guilty so I go y'all already do this so I bake you pies, guys.”
“I don’t really think that they have to work hard so you bake them pies. Probably every time that they think about going to the kitchen to ask you for pies there’s already one on the counter.”
“Oh, Jack, shut up. I don’t really need your chirps right now. Just tell me that you are coming here for Winter Screw so I can use you as an excuse for not going because if I have to listen to these two for three seconds more I am going to wait five more minutes till that pie is baked and I am going to put my head inside that oven.”
“Bitty don’t you dare suicide inside of our kitchen and look at David’s abs–”
“Excuse me but I can do what I damn want inside my kitchen and more if you are– put your phone away from my face, I am not going to look at anyone’s abs!”
“I am actually going to Samwell for Winter Screw.”
Three heads turned towards the screen and three voices talked at the same time.
“I was actually just joking–”
“Holy fuck dude you could have told us before!”
“Who are you going with?”
“I am not going with anyone. I’ll just stay at the Haus but I don’t want you dumping your dates just because I am going to be there.”
“Oh, that’s just perfect.” Said Bitty, with a sigh that clearly said that he was relieved. He stood up to put the pie out of the oven, with a face that said “I am really satisfied about this”.
“How is that perfect? Everyone has plans already and–”
“Well I don’t.” Bitty said, looking pretty happy as he sat in front of the computer again, having left the pie on the counter so it would cool down. “I’ll spend time with Jack while y'all are at the Screw.”
“But if you aren’t there who is going to control the frogs?”
“Do you prefer that I leave our poor Jack alone?”
“I could even burn the kitchen if I am there on my own.”
“I can’t let that happen, guys, this is my kitchen.”
“Oh, you shush up.”
Ransom and Holster were looking at each other very concerned and apparently having a mental conversation about the pros and the cons of letting Bitty out of this one. Bitty mouthed “thanks” to Jack, looking flushed, but mostly relieved. Jack just smiled, looking slightly amused.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go to a dance with his friends, really. It was just that he actually liked someone (thanks, Jack) and he already did the “I am going to try to forget my stupid crush on a boy spending the night dancing with another person” thing last year and it didn’t really work. Like, yes, he had fun and it was a lot better than any of his high school dances but it wasn’t what he actually wanted.
But he wasn’t going to tell Ransom and Holster that.
“Bitty, you can stay here.” Holster said, with a really official voice.
“But we are telling everyone about that time the cashier thought that you were like twelve.” Finished Ransom, with the same tone of voice as Holster.
“I actually want to hear about that.”
“Okay, I am going to my room, good bye.”
He could hear the laughs as he went upstairs.
(So, yeah. This was actually really fun to write. And I may keep writing it if you guys like it.
Probably I will write at least another chapter, but hey. Who knows.)
Untitled by twofriesshortofhomicide (Dean and reader text back and forth, leading to phone sex and then real sex) ((Are we sensing that Allie found a new blog this week and read thru the entire master list at once?? Sorry. I actually held back because there are several more that I wanted to post. Go check out the master list tho.)
Quiet by ilostmyshoe-79 (Reader has to be quiet for Sam since Dean is asleep the next bed over. I somewhat recently decided that the whole having-sex-while-someone-else-is-in-the-room-asleep thing kind of eeks me out, but I wanted to have at least a little bit of Sam smut on the list this week. )
I’ve had to resort to drastic measures because Jess ripped my heart out and stomped on it, then proceeded to defecate on its pulverized remains with Wish You Were Here. I was lured in with the promise of smut (there’s definitely smut) but my body was not ready for the feels. Oh, and then she went and wrote a prequel, which was also a meat grinder for the feels. From now on, smut timeout is where smut writers will be sent when they are bad- aka when I don’t get my way and I’m pouting about it. Let’s hope I don’t have to use it most Hump days, JESS.
Alright, that’s it for this week. Until next Wednesday, Happy Humping!!!
This is my own composition notebook homework assignment in progress. Professor Chewbacca reflects on the crayon experience. I’ve inked it and now I’m coloring it in
I like to figure out problems in my composition notebook using drawing and slow writing and non-photo blue pencil to help me with certain problems that defy being approached head on. I’ve found there is something to moving ones hand in a certain way – like a coloring way– while filling in a space and half thinking and half not-thinking about this something you are trying to figure out that invites possible answers to present themselves..
HELP! I am a teen writer. Or, I thought I was two years ago. I haven't written for fun in two entire years. Every time I want to write I have absolutely no ideas. I can't even write cliche stories (vampires, werewolves, bad boy falls in love with nerd girl stuff) without getting stressed out. I don't even like cliche stories. But I don't think there's anything new and original for me to discover. What do I do?
Ask yourself what you’d like to see written and write that. What existing stories do you like? Write in those worlds. Do you have a favorite character? Write about them. What do you really enjoy doing in life? Write about that. Start keeping a stream of consciousness journal and write about whatever’s going on right now, even if you don’t think it’s that interesting. Go outside and observe people. Write about what they’re doing. Write about your family. Write about what you love. Write about what you hate. Just put pen to paper.
But, know that even if you can’t come up with anything, that’s okay too. Don’t be distressed. There was a time when I was younger when I stopped writing because nothing really sparked my imagination… until something finally did. The funny thing about ideas is they sometimes hit you when you least expect it, and they come from the strangest places.
I think there’s plenty out there for you to discover. Don’t worry about what’s been done, or if what your doing is new and original. Find a subject you’re passionate about and write about it.
Of course, if you find that no matter what you do you’re unhappy with the idea of writing, then keep on taking that break until you want to come back. There’s no shame in falling in and out of love with writing. Maybe there’s something else out there that you’re more passionate about? Writing isn’t the only way to tell a story, and, perhaps, you not being able to write for so long is a sign that you should try something new?
How do you 'break down an art style?' I'm a bit confused/curious...
hmm it’s not an ‘official’ term as far as I know but for me it’s to look at artwork from an artist, or studio and try to emulate it! tho it’s a step further than copying. You try to glean their art process, and their habits! How do they usually structure things? Does a certain type of facial/body structure appear more frequently or all the time? What are their influences? And it’s not just with line, it could be the way someone uses color, or composition! Do they usually have lowkey or highkey lighting? Warm or cool tones often? How do they use textures?
So it’s kinda like…being asked to write an in-depth essay about a series of paintings, except a bit less writing and more applying what you see and making judgement.
And what you can do after is take the stuff you like and you think would help you and apply it to your art. Or note the stuff you don’t like and avoid it (like you know how someone may roll too much in For Glory matches in SSB). Or you could be doing a project that’s in a different style than what you are used to, so by breaking it down you can adapt more easily and get the job done!
I’ve done that a lot more for animation (by studying arcs of movement and timing) than for my illustration stuff, so I need to work on that too. Analyze my own art and see what kinda habits that I’d like to get rid of or improve on!
Alright so supersillyanddorky06 when I read your amazing works of art I sometimes forget that what other’s can do with a paint brush or a camera is what you can do with words. So sometimes this is what I see when I read one of your well crafted works of art. Now I’m not as gifted nor as talented as your other admirers but this is my contribution to the growing list of people that you have inspired with just your words alone. You truly deserve all the beautiful pictures, videos and graphics that this fandom keeps bringing your way I just hope that one day other readers get to appreciate your very rare and beautiful gift. I’m so truly glad that I decided to read “The Phoenix” and I’m so glad that sabahuniverse told that it was your story that had me riveted and begging for the next installment.
Oh, that is lovely. I can just see that happening in Pete’s World. Tentoo and Rose going on dates and then one night winning that as a prize. Her laughter because it’s corny and also perfect. A rose for his Rose. And she needs to kiss him NOW.
He’d successfully convinced her to pop in to the arcade with him after he so dutifully accompanied her on her clothes shopping (a thinly veiled attempt at dressing him). She wasn’t too keen at first, tailing him and watching him act like a kid as he played. Soon enough, however, she disappeared into the arcade, gluing herself to an old Donkey Kong unit.
Unbeknownst to her, however, the Doctor was on a secret mission. For weeks now, he’d been popping into this little hole in the wall to pour out his hard earned teacher money into these arcade games, some of which he didn’t even like. But he still came anyway, because every day on his bike ride home something in the window called out to him - a glimmering glass rose, for 1950 tickets. It was a seemingly unattainable amount, given the machines only awarded handfuls at a time.
Oh, sure, he could go out and simply buy one at the jewelers. Given how much he’d already spent it would probably actually have been cheaper. But why do that when he could win one? This was a matter of pride. And no matter how silly Rose might find it, he wanted to win a rose for his Rose. All his growling at the machines, being yelled at for growling at the machines, losing at air hockey to a pint sized kid, it would all be worth it for one little smile from his Rose. He only needed 50 more tickets, so today was the day to invite her along.
He kissed his arcade card when the screen on the Super Mario game displayed that last ten tickets he needed. He wanted to kiss Mario, too, for finally cooperating with him to get what he needed. The Doctor raced up to the counter, making the teenage attendant jump back. They were all too familiar with one another. He’d seen the kid every day for the past few weeks, and he knew exactly what the Doctor had been playing for. So the Doctor’s heart fell into his stomach when he frowned instead of fetching his case key.
“Somebody just picked it up. Tough luck, mate,” the kid told him with a half-hearted smirk.
“How? You’ve had that same one for weeks!” the Doctor growled and thrust his fingers into his weedy hair.
“A gorgeous piece of… a woman just picked it up. We’ll have another one, in a week or two.”
The Doctor’s heart fell, along with his head onto the counter. All his hard work, all the build up, the anticipation, that lost smile all crept up on him at once. Served him right, being such a git and not going out to buy it. He sighed onto his arm. He still wanted it, that was the worst part. Losing out wasn’t enough of a deterrent.
“Doctor, look!” Rose came up beside him and chirped. He rolled his head to the side and let her see him pouting. “I just won the jackpot on Donkey Kong! I got 2000 tickets! Can you believe it?” He chuffed at her. “Oh, but look Doctor! I got you something. It’s a rose! Thought you might like one, you know. A rose? Get it?” She pushed it gently in front of him and lifted his chin for a kiss that rippled warmth down to his feet. “Just for you, Doctor. A rose.”
This week we’ll be changing up our daily diary to something like a Bingo Game. It’s pretty easy. You trace this grid into your compbook and then look to the world around you and your day as you’ve lived it so far to find
3 things you did
3 things you observed
3 things you overheard
3 things to draw
You can do them in any order, you can do them over the course of your entire day or in a single sitting; at a coffee shop, a classroom or lecture hall, at home, on the bus– any where where there are people around you.
For the drawing part, it’s helpful to look for specific things, such as three round things in the room, or orange things, or hairdos, or switches or styles of backpacks. Anything that will make you look around the place you find yourself in.
I’ll pass out copies of this page tomorrow in class.