sketches of varying degrees of elaboration
School had never been something that Tom liked. I mean, why would he? He had to spend 6 hours, surrounded by idiotic, narrow minded people his age that seemed to think everyone had to be a certain way and despised anyone who didn’t follow that rule. Not to mention the shithead teachers, who either basically didn’t teach at all, were strict beyond belief, or were as sweet as honey and oblivious to pretty much everything that happened in the classroom.
Then, there were the ones that went the extra mile. Not the ones who were smart-asses, no; the ones who went out of their way to make the different kids feel especially unwelcome and out of place. Kids like Tom. Kids who seemed to just want to express themselves and not bumble along like sheep and get lost in the crowds of students who all looked and acted the same.
Tom didn’t like tuneless pop music; he liked rock and metal and punk and grunge and alternative. He had an actual taste in music, in his opinion. He didn’t wear trendy outfits, made up completely of expensive brand clothes; he wore black; ripped black skinny jeans, black and white checkered converse, black band tees, black jackets, baggy black or blue hoodies, slouchy black knitted beanies. He didn’t like girls; he liked boys. He wore jewelry too; he had multiple piercings in both ears, with black rings and studs, as well as black plastic stretchers in his lobes. He had a lip ring too, in the left side of his lip, and an eyebrow bar in his right eyebrow. The one, kind of rule, he did follow, was having tattoos; all the ‘cool’ guys seemed to have them.School had never been something that Tom liked. I mean, why would he? He had to spend 6 hours, surrounded by idiotic, narrow minded people his age that seemed to think everyone had to be a certain way and despised anyone who didn’t follow that rule. Not to mention the shithead teachers, who either basically didn’t teach at all, were strict beyond belief, or were as sweet as honey and oblivious to pretty much everything that happened in the classroom.Then, there were the ones that went the extra mile. Not the ones who were smart-asses, no; the ones who went out of their way to make the different kids feel especially unwelcome and out of place. Kids like Tom. Kids who seemed to just want to express themselves and not bumble along like sheep and get lost in the crowds of students who all looked and acted the same.Tom didn’t like tuneless pop music; he liked rock and metal and punk and grunge and alternative. He had an actual taste in music, in his opinion. He didn’t wear trendy outfits, made up completely of expensive brand clothes; he wore black; ripped black skinny jeans, black and white checkered converse, black band tees, black jackets, baggy black or blue hoodies, slouchy black knitted beanies. He didn’t like girls; he liked boys. He wore jewelry too; he had multiple piercings in both ears, with black rings and studs, as well as black plastic stretchers in his lobes. He had a lip ring too, in the left side of his lip, and an eyebrow bar in his right eyebrow. The one, kind of rule, he did follow, was having tattoos; all the ‘cool’ guys seemed to have them.School had never been something that Tom liked. I mean, why would he? He had to spend 6 hours, surrounded by idiotic, narrow minded people his age that seemed to think everyone had to be a certain way and despised anyone who didn’t follow that rule. Not to mention the shithead teachers, who either basically didn’t teach at all, were strict beyond belief, or were as sweet as honey and oblivious to pretty much everything that happened in the classroom.Then, there were the ones that went the extra mile. Not the ones who were smart-asses, no; the ones who went out of their way to make the different kids feel especially unwelcome and out of place. Kids like Tom. Kids who seemed to just want to express themselves and not bumble along like sheep and get lost in the crowds of students who all looked and acted the same.Tom didn’t like tuneless pop music; he liked rock and metal and punk and grunge and alternative. He had an actual taste in music, in his opinion. He didn’t wear trendy outfits, made up completely of expensive brand clothes; he wore black; ripped black skinny jeans, black and white checkered converse, black band tees, black jackets, baggy black or blue hoodies, slouchy black knitted beanies. He didn’t like girls; he liked boys. He wore jewelry too; he had multiple piercings in both ears, with black rings and studs, as well as black plastic stretchers in his lobes. He had a lip ring too, in the left side of his lip, and an eyebrow bar in his right eyebrow. The one, kind of rule, he did follow, was having tattoos; all the 'cool’ guys seemed to have them.School had never been something that Tom liked. I mean, why would he? He had to spend 6 hours, surrounded by idiotic, narrow minded people his age that seemed to think everyone had to be a certain way and despised anyone who didn’t follow that rule. Not to mention the shithead teachers, who either basically didn’t teach at all, were strict beyond belief, or were as sweet as honey and oblivious to pretty much everything that happened in the classroom.Then, there were the ones that went the extra mile. Not the ones who were smart-asses, no; the ones who went out of their way to make the different kids feel especially unwelcome and out of place. Kids like Tom. Kids who seemed to just want to express themselves and not bumble along like sheep and get lost in the crowds of students who all looked and acted the same.Tom didn’t like tuneless pop music; he liked rock and metal and punk and grunge and alternative. He had an actual taste in music, in his opinion. He didn’t wear trendy outfits, made up completely of expensive brand clothes; he wore black; ripped black skinny jeans, black and white checkered converse, black band tees, black jackets, baggy black or blue hoodies, slouchy black knitted beanies. He didn’t like girls; he liked boys. He wore jewelry too; he had multiple piercings in both ears, with black rings and studs, as well as black plastic stretchers in his lobes. He had a lip ring too, in the left side of his lip, and an eyebrow bar in his right eyebrow. The one, kind of rule, he did follow, was having tattoos; all the 'cool’ guys seemed to have them.School had never been something that Tom liked. I mean, why would he? He had to spend 6 hours, surrounded by idiotic, narrow minded people his age that seemed to think everyone had to be a certain way and despised anyone who didn’t follow that rule. Not to mention the shithead teachers, who either basically didn’t teach at all, were strict beyond belief, or were as sweet as honey and oblivious to pretty much everything that happened in the classroom.Then, there were the ones that went the extra mile. Not the ones who were smart-asses, no; the ones who went out of their way to make the different kids feel especially unwelcome and out of place. Kids like Tom. Kids who seemed to just want to express themselves and not bumble along like sheep and get lost in the crowds of students who all looked and acted the same.Tom didn’t like tuneless pop music; he liked rock and metal and punk and grunge and alternative. He had an actual taste in music, in his opinion. He didn’t wear trendy outfits, made up completely of expensive brand clothes; he wore black; ripped black skinny jeans, black and white checkered converse, black band tees, black jackets, baggy black or blue hoodies, slouchy black knitted beanies. He didn’t like girls; he liked boys. He wore jewelry too; he had multiple piercings in both ears, with black rings and studs, as well as black plastic stretchers in his lobes. He had a lip ring too, in the left side of his lip, and an eyebrow bar in his right eyebrow. The one, kind of rule, he did follow, was having tattoos; all the 'cool’ guys seemed to have them.School had never been something that Tom liked. I mean, why would he? He had to spend 6 hours, surrounded by idiotic, narrow minded people his age that seemed to think everyone had to be a certain way and despised anyone who didn’t follow that rule. Not to mention the shithead teachers, who either basically didn’t teach at all, were strict beyond belief, or were as sweet as honey and oblivious to pretty much everything that happened in the classroom.Then, there were the ones that went the extra mile. Not the ones who were smart-asses, no; the ones who went out of their way to make the different kids feel especially unwelcome and out of place. Kids like Tom. Kids who seemed to just want to express themselves and not bumble along like sheep and get lost in the crowds of students who all looked and acted the same.Tom didn’t like tuneless pop music; he liked rock and metal and punk and grunge and alternative. He had an actual taste in music, in his opinion. He didn’t wear trendy outfits, made up completely of expensive brand clothes; he wore black; ripped black skinny jeans, black and white checkered converse, black band tees, black jackets, baggy black or blue hoodies, slouchy black knitted beanies. He didn’t like girls; he liked boys. He wore jewelry too; he had multiple piercings in both ears, with black rings and studs, as well as black plastic stretchers in his lobes. He had a lip ring too, in the left side of his lip, and an eyebrow bar in his right eyebrow. The one, kind of rule, he did follow, was having tattoos; all the 'cool’ guys seemed to have them.School had never been something that Tom liked. I mean, why would he? He had to spend 6 hours, surrounded by idiotic, narrow minded people his age that seemed to think everyone had to be a certain way and despised anyone who didn’t follow that rule. Not to mention the shithead teachers, who either basically didn’t teach at all, were strict beyond belief, or were as sweet as honey and oblivious to pretty much everything that happened in the classroom.Then, there were the ones that went the extra mile. Not the ones who were smart-asses, no; the ones who went out of their way to make the different kids feel especially unwelcome and out of place. Kids like Tom. Kids who seemed to just want to express themselves and not bumble along like sheep and get lost in the crowds of students who all looked and acted the same.Tom didn’t like tuneless pop music; he liked rock and metal and punk and grunge and alternative. He had an actual taste in music, in his opinion. He didn’t wear trendy outfits, made up completely of expensive brand clothes; he wore black; ripped black skinny jeans, black and white checkered converse, black band tees, black jackets, baggy black or blue hoodies, slouchy black knitted beanies. He didn’t like girls; he liked boys. He wore jewelry too; he had multiple piercings in both ears, with black rings and studs, as well as black plastic stretchers in his lobes. He had a lip ring too, in the left side of his lip, and an eyebrow bar in his right eyebrow. The one, kind of rule, he did follow, was having tattoos; all the 'cool’ guys seemed to have them.School had never been something that Tom liked. I mean, why would he? He had to spend 6 hours, surrounded by idiotic, narrow minded people his age that seemed to think everyone had to be a certain way and despised anyone who didn’t follow that rule. Not to mention the shithead teachers, who either basically didn’t teach at all, were strict beyond belief, or were as sweet as honey and oblivious to pretty much everything that happened in the classroom.Then, there were the ones that went the extra mile. Not the ones who were smart-asses, no; the ones who went out of their way to make the different kids feel especially unwelcome and out of place. Kids like Tom. Kids who seemed to just want to express themselves and not bumble along like sheep and get lost in the crowds of students who all looked and acted the same.Tom didn’t like tuneless pop music; he liked rock and metal and punk and grunge and alternative. He had an actual taste in music, in his opinion. He didn’t wear trendy outfits, made up completely of expensive brand clothes; he wore black; ripped black skinny jeans, black and white checkered converse, black band tees, black jackets, baggy black or blue hoodies, slouchy black knitted beanies. He didn’t like girls; he liked boys. He wore jewelry too; he had multiple piercings in both ears, with black rings and studs, as well as black plastic stretchers in his lobes. He had a lip ring too, in the left side of his lip, and an eyebrow bar in his right eyebrow. The one, kind of rule, he did follow, was having tattoos; all the 'cool’ guys seemed to have them.School had never been something that Tom liked. I mean, why would he? He had to spend 6 hours, surrounded by idiotic, narrow minded people his age that seemed to think everyone had to be a certain way and despised anyone who didn’t follow that rule. Not to mention the shithead teachers, who either basically didn’t teach at all, were strict beyond belief, or were as sweet as honey and oblivious to pretty much everything that happened in the classroom.Then, there were the ones that went the extra mile. Not the ones who were smart-asses, no; the ones who went out of their way to make the different kids feel especially unwelcome and out of place. Kids like Tom. Kids who seemed to just want to express themselves and not bumble along like sheep and get lost in the crowds of students who all looked and acted the same.Tom didn’t like tuneless pop music; he liked rock and metal and punk and grunge and alternative. He had an actual taste in music, in his opinion. He didn’t wear trendy outfits, made up completely of expensive brand clothes; he wore black; ripped black skinny jeans, black and white checkered converse, black band tees, black jackets, baggy black or blue hoodies, slouchy black knitted beanies. He didn’t like girls; he liked boys. He wore jewelry too; he had multiple piercings in both ears, with black rings and studs, as well as black plastic stretchers in his lobes. He had a lip ring too, in the left side of his lip, and an eyebrow bar in his right eyebrow. The one, kind of rule, he did follow, was having tattoos; all the 'cool’ guys seemed to have them.School had never been something that Tom liked. I mean, why would he? He had to spend 6 hours, surrounded by idiotic, narrow minded people his age that seemed to think everyone had to be a certain way and despised anyone who didn’t follow that rule. Not to mention the shithead teachers, who either basically didn’t teach at all, were strict beyond belief, or were as sweet as honey and oblivious to pretty much everything that happened in the classroom.Then, there were the ones that went the extra mile. Not the ones who were smart-asses, no; the ones who went out of their way to make the different kids feel especially unwelcome and out of place. Kids like Tom. Kids who seemed to just want to express themselves and not bumble along like sheep and get lost in the crowds of students who all looked and acted the same.Tom didn’t like tuneless pop music; he liked rock and metal and punk and grunge and alternative. He had an actual taste in music, in his opinion. He didn’t wear trendy outfits, made up completely of expensive brand clothes; he wore black; ripped black skinny jeans, black and white checkered converse, black band tees, black jackets, baggy black or blue hoodies, slouchy black knitted beanies. He didn’t like girls; he liked boys. He wore jewelry too; he had multiple piercings in both ears, with black rings and studs, as well as black plastic stretchers in his lobes. He had a lip ring too, in the left side of his lip, and an eyebrow bar in his right eyebrow. The one, kind of rule, he did follow, was having tattoos; all the 'cool’ guys seemed to have them.School had never been something that Tom liked. I mean, why would he? He had to spend 6 hours, surrounded by idiotic, narrow minded people his age that seemed to think everyone had to be a certain way and despised anyone who didn’t follow that rule. Not to mention the shithead teachers, who either basically didn’t teach at all, were strict beyond belief, or were as sweet as honey and oblivious to pretty much everything that happened in the classroom.Then, there were the ones that went the extra mile. Not the ones who were smart-asses, no; the ones who went out of their way to make the different kids feel especially unwelcome and out of place. Kids like Tom. Kids who seemed to just want to express themselves and not bumble along like sheep and get lost in the crowds of students who all looked and acted the same.Tom didn’t like tuneless pop music; he liked rock and metal and punk and grunge and alternative. He had an actual taste in music, in his opinion. He didn’t wear trendy outfits, made up completely of expensive brand clothes; he wore black; ripped black skinny jeans, black and white checkered converse, black band tees, black jackets, baggy black or blue hoodies, slouchy black knitted beanies. He didn’t like girls; he liked boys. He wore jewelry too; he had multiple piercings in both ears, with black rings and studs, as well as black plastic stretchers in his lobes. He had a lip ring too, in the left side of his lip, and an eyebrow bar in his right eyebrow. The one, kind of rule, he did follow, was having tattoos; all the 'cool’ guys seemed to have them.School had never been something that Tom liked. I mean, why would he? He had to spend 6 hours, surrounded by idiotic, narrow minded people his age that seemed to think everyone had to be a certain way and despised anyone who didn’t follow that rule. Not to mention the shithead teachers, who either basically didn’t teach at all, were strict beyond belief, or were as sweet as honey and oblivious to pretty much everything that happened in the classroom.Then, there were the ones that went the extra mile. Not the ones who were smart-asses, no; the ones who went out of their way to make the different kids feel especially unwelcome and out of place. Kids like Tom. Kids who seemed to just want to express themselves and not bumble along like sheep and get lost in the crowds of students who all looked and acted the same.Tom didn’t like tuneless pop music; he liked rock and metal and punk and grunge and alternative. He had an actual taste in music, in his opinion. He didn’t wear trendy outfits, made up completely of expensive brand clothes; he wore black; ripped black skinny jeans, black and white checkered converse, black band tees, black jackets, baggy black or blue hoodies, slouchy black knitted beanies. He didn’t like girls; he liked boys. He wore jewelry too; he had multiple piercings in both ears, with black rings and studs, as well as black plastic stretchers in his lobes. He had a lip ring too, in the left side of his lip, and an eyebrow bar in his right eyebrow. The one, kind of rule, he did follow, was having tattoos; all the 'cool’ guys seemed to have them.School had never been something that Tom liked. I mean, why would he? He had to spend 6 hours, surrounded by idiotic, narrow minded people his age that seemed to think everyone had to be a certain way and despised anyone who didn’t follow that rule. Not to mention the shithead teachers, who either basically didn’t teach at all, were strict beyond belief, or were as sweet as honey and oblivious to pretty much everything that happened in the classroom.Then, there were the ones that went the extra mile. Not the ones who were smart-asses, no; the ones who went out of their way to make the different kids feel especially unwelcome and out of place. Kids like Tom. Kids who seemed to just want to express themselves and not bumble along like sheep and get lost in the crowds of students who all looked and acted the same.Tom didn’t like tuneless pop music; he liked rock and metal and punk and grunge and alternative. He had an actual taste in music, in his opinion. He didn’t wear trendy outfits, made up completely of expensive brand clothes; he wore black; ripped black skinny jeans, black and white checkered converse, black band tees, black jackets, baggy black or blue hoodies, slouchy black knitted beanies. He didn’t like girls; he liked boys. He wore jewelry too; he had multiple piercings in both ears, with black rings and studs, as well as black plastic stretchers in his lobes. He had a lip ring too, in the left side of his lip, and an eyebrow bar in his right eyebrow. The one, kind of rule, he did follow, was having tattoos; all the 'cool’ guys seemed to have them.School had never been something that Tom liked. I mean, why would he? He had to spend 6 hours, surrounded by idiotic, narrow minded people his age that seemed to think everyone had to be a certain way and despised anyone who didn’t follow that rule. Not to mention the shithead teachers, who either basically didn’t teach at all, were strict beyond belief, or were as sweet as honey and oblivious to pretty much everything that happened in the classroom.Then, there were the ones that went the extra mile. Not the ones who were smart-asses, no; the ones who went out of their way to make the different kids feel especially unwelcome and out of place. Kids like Tom. Kids who seemed to just want to express themselves and not bumble along like sheep and get lost in the crowds of students who all looked and acted the same.Tom didn’t like tuneless pop music; he liked rock and metal and punk and grunge and alternative. He had an actual taste in music, in his opinion. He didn’t wear trendy outfits, made up completely of expensive brand clothes; he wore black; ripped black skinny jeans, black and white checkered converse, black band tees, black jackets, baggy black or blue hoodies, slouchy black knitted beanies. He didn’t like girls; he liked boys. He wore jewelry too; he had multiple piercings in both ears, with black rings and studs, as well as black plastic stretchers in his lobes. He had a lip ring too, in the left side of his lip, and an eyebrow bar in his right eyebrow. The one, kind of rule, he did follow, was having tattoos; all the 'cool’ guys seemed to have them.School had never been something that Tom liked. I mean, why would he? He had to spend 6 hours, surrounded by idiotic, narrow minded people his age that seemed to think everyone had to be a certain way and despised anyone who didn’t follow that rule. Not to mention the shithead teachers, who either basically didn’t teach at all, were strict beyond belief, or were as sweet as honey and oblivious to pretty much everything that happened in the classroom.Then, there were the ones that went the extra mile. Not the ones who were smart-asses, no; the ones who went out of their way to make the different kids feel especially unwelcome and out of place. Kids like Tom. Kids who seemed to just want to express themselves and not bumble along like sheep and get lost in the crowds of students who all looked and acted the same.Tom didn’t like tuneless pop music; he liked rock and metal and punk and grunge and alternative. He had an actual taste in music, in his opinion. He didn’t wear trendy outfits, made up completely of expensive brand clothes; he wore black; ripped black skinny jeans, black and white checkered converse, black band tees, black jackets, baggy black or blue hoodies, slouchy black knitted beanies. He didn’t like girls; he liked boys. He wore jewelry too; he had multiple piercings in both ears, with black rings and studs, as well as black plastic stretchers in his lobes. He had a lip ring too, in the left side of his lip, and an eyebrow bar in his right eyebrow. The one, kind of rule, he did follow, was having tattoos; all the 'cool’ guys seemed to have them.School had never been something that Tom liked. I mean, why would he? He had to spend 6 hours, surrounded by idiotic, narrow minded people his age that seemed to think everyone had to be a certain way and despised anyone who didn’t follow that rule. Not to mention the shithead teachers, who either basically didn’t teach at all, were strict beyond belief, or were as sweet as honey and oblivious to pretty much everything that happened in the classroom.Then, there were the ones that went the extra mile. Not the ones who were smart-asses, no; the ones who went out of their way to make the different kids feel especially unwelcome and out of place. Kids like Tom. Kids who seemed to just want to express themselves and not bumble along like sheep and get lost in the crowds of students who all looked and acted the same.Tom didn’t like tuneless pop music; he liked rock and metal and punk and grunge and alternative. He had an actual taste in music, in his opinion. He didn’t wear trendy outfits, made up completely of expensive brand clothes; he wore black; ripped black skinny jeans, black and white checkered converse, black band tees, black jackets, baggy black or blue hoodies, slouchy black knitted beanies. He didn’t like girls; he liked boys. He wore jewelry too; he had multiple piercings in both ears, with black rings and studs, as well as black plastic stretchers in his lobes. He had a lip ring too, in the left side of his lip, and an eyebrow bar in his right eyebrow. The one, kind of rule, he did follow, was having tattoos; all the 'cool’ guys seemed to have them.School had never been something that Tom liked. I mean, why would he? He had to spend 6 hours, surrounded by idiotic, narrow minded people his age that seemed to think everyone had to be a certain way and despised anyone who didn’t follow that rule. Not to mention the shithead teachers, who either basically didn’t teach at all, were strict beyond belief, or were as sweet as honey and oblivious to pretty much everything that happened in the classroom.Then, there were the ones that went the extra mile. Not the ones who were smart-asses, no; the ones who went out of their way to make the different kids feel especially unwelcome and out of place. Kids like Tom. Kids who seemed to just want to express themselves and not bumble along like sheep and get lost in the crowds of students who all looked and acted the same.Tom didn’t like tuneless pop music; he liked rock and metal and punk and grunge and alternative. He had an actual taste in music, in his opinion. He didn’t wear trendy outfits, made up completely of expensive brand clothes; he wore black; ripped black skinny jeans, black and white checkered converse, black band tees, black jackets, baggy black or blue hoodies, slouchy black knitted beanies. He didn’t like girls; he liked boys. He wore jewelry too; he had multiple piercings in both ears, with black rings and studs, as well as black plastic stretchers in his lobes. He had a lip ring too, in the left side of his lip, and an eyebrow bar in his right eyebrow. The one, kind of rule, he did follow, was having tattoos; all the 'cool’ guys seemed to have them.School had never been something that Tom liked. I mean, why would he? He had to spend 6 hours, surrounded by idiotic, narrow minded people his age that seemed to think everyone had to be a certain way and despised anyone who didn’t follow that rule. Not to mention the shithead teachers, who either basically didn’t teach at all, were strict beyond belief, or were as sweet as honey and oblivious to pretty much everything that happened in the classroom.Then, there were the ones that went the extra mile. Not the ones who were smart-asses, no; the ones who went out of their way to make the different kids feel especially unwelcome and out of place. Kids like Tom. Kids who seemed to just want to express themselves and not bumble along like sheep and get lost in the crowds of students who all looked and acted the same.Tom didn’t like tuneless pop music; he liked rock and metal and punk and grunge and alternative. He had an actual taste in music, in his opinion. He didn’t wear trendy outfits, made up completely of expensive brand clothes; he wore black; ripped black skinny jeans, black and white checkered converse, black band tees, black jackets, baggy black or blue hoodies, slouchy black knitted beanies. He didn’t like girls; he liked boys. He wore jewelry too; he had multiple piercings in both ears, with black rings and studs, as well as black plastic stretchers in his lobes. He had a lip ring too, in the left side of his lip, and an eyebrow bar in his right eyebrow. The one, kind of rule, he did follow, was having tattoos; all the 'cool’ guys seemed to have them.School had never been something that Tom liked. I mean, why would he? He had to spend 6 hours, surrounded by idiotic, narrow minded people his age that seemed to think everyone had to be a certain way and despised anyone who didn’t follow that rule. Not to mention the shithead teachers, who either basically didn’t teach at all, were strict beyond belief, or were as sweet as honey and oblivious to pretty much everything that happened in the classroom.Then, there were the ones that went the extra mile. Not the ones who were smart-asses, no; the ones who went out of their way to make the different kids feel especially unwelcome and out of place. Kids like Tom. Kids who seemed to just want to express themselves and not bumble along like sheep and get lost in the crowds of students who all looked and acted the same.Tom didn’t like tuneless pop music; he liked rock and metal and punk and grunge and alternative. He had an actual taste in music, in his opinion. He didn’t wear trendy outfits, made up completely of expensive brand clothes; he wore black; ripped black skinny jeans, black and white checkered converse, black band tees, black jackets, baggy black or blue hoodies, slouchy black knitted beanies. He didn’t like girls; he liked boys. He wore jewelry too; he had multiple piercings in both ears, with black rings and studs, as well as black plastic stretchers in his lobes. He had a lip ring too, in the left side of his lip, and an eyebrow bar in his right eyebrow. The one, kind of rule, he did follow, was having tattoos; all the 'cool’ guys seemed to have them.School had never been something that Tom liked. I mean, why would he? He had to spend 6 hours, surrounded by idiotic, narrow minded people his age that seemed to think everyone had to be a certain way and despised anyone who didn’t follow that rule. Not to mention the shithead teachers, who either basically didn’t teach at all, were strict beyond belief, or were as sweet as honey and oblivious to pretty much everything that happened in the classroom.Then, there were the ones that went the extra mile. Not the ones who were smart-asses, no; the ones who went out of their way to make the different kids feel especially unwelcome and out of place. Kids like Tom. Kids who seemed to just want to express themselves and not bumble along like sheep and get lost in the crowds of students who all looked and acted the same.Tom didn’t like tuneless pop music; he liked rock and metal and punk and grunge and alternative. He had an actual taste in music, in his opinion. He didn’t wear trendy outfits, made up completely of expensive brand clothes; he wore black; ripped black skinny jeans, black and white checkered converse, black band tees, black jackets, baggy black or blue hoodies, slouchy black knitted beanies. He didn’t like girls; he liked boys. He wore jewelry too; he had multiple piercings in both ears, with black rings and studs, as well as black plastic stretchers in his lobes. He had a lip ring too, in the left side of his lip, and an eyebrow bar in his right eyebrow. The one, kind of rule, he did follow, was having tattoos; all the 'cool’ guys seemed to have them.School had never been something that Tom liked. I mean, why would he? He had to spend 6 hours, surrounded by idiotic, narrow minded people his age that seemed to think everyone had to be a certain way and despised anyone who didn’t follow that rule. Not to mention the shithead teachers, who either basically didn’t teach at all, were strict beyond belief, or were as sweet as honey and oblivious to pretty much everything that happened in the classroom.Then, there were the ones that went the extra mile. Not the ones who were smart-asses, no; the ones who went out of their way to make the different kids feel especially unwelcome and out of place. Kids like Tom. Kids who seemed to just want to express themselves and not bumble along like sheep and get lost in the crowds of students who all looked and acted the same.Tom didn’t like tuneless pop music; he liked rock and metal and punk and grunge and alternative. He had an actual taste in music, in his opinion. He didn’t wear trendy outfits, made up completely of expensive brand clothes; he wore black; ripped black skinny jeans, black and white checkered converse, black band tees, black jackets, baggy black or blue hoodies, slouchy black knitted beanies. He didn’t like girls; he liked boys. He wore jewelry too; he had multiple piercings in both ears, with black rings and studs, as well as black plastic stretchers in his lobes. He had a lip ring too, in the left side of his lip, and an eyebrow bar in his right eyebrow. The one, kind of rule, he did follow, was having tattoos; all the 'cool’ guys seemed to have them.School had never been something that Tom liked. I mean, why would he? He had to spend 6 hours, surrounded by idiotic, narrow minded people his age that seemed to think everyone had to be a certain way and despised anyone who didn’t follow that rule. Not to mention the shithead teachers, who either basically didn’t teach at all, were strict beyond belief, or were as sweet as honey and oblivious to pretty much everything that happened in the classroom.Then, there were the ones that went the extra mile. Not the ones who were smart-asses, no; the ones who went out of their way to make the different kids feel especially unwelcome and out of place. Kids like Tom. Kids who seemed to just want to express themselves and not bumble along like sheep and get lost in the crowds of students who all looked and acted the same.Tom didn’t like tuneless pop music; he liked rock and metal and punk and grunge and alternative. He had an actual taste in music, in his opinion. He didn’t wear trendy outfits, made up completely of expensive brand clothes; he wore black; ripped black skinny jeans, black and white checkered converse, black band tees, black jackets, baggy black or blue hoodies, slouchy black knitted beanies. He didn’t like girls; he liked boys. He wore jewelry too; he had multiple piercings in both ears, with black rings and studs, as well as black plastic stretchers in his lobes. He had a lip ring too, in the left side of his lip, and an eyebrow bar in his right eyebrow. The one, kind of rule, he did follow, was having tattoos; all the 'cool’ guys seemed to have them.
charles my friend charles is a genius these 2 in a room together would b really funny. what with how hypocritical gordon can be<3
bonus 2nd panel variants(tw blood violence scopophobia suicide mention):
DEAD OR ALIVE
girls that say "hiiii ^_^" girls that say "bruh"
Musical interlude
yall remember when i used to draw redux? me neither
W + ratio + playing + giggling + frolicking
back at it again
This is Part One! Here’s Part Two
This comic is based off of a headcanon I saw in the tags someplace, somewhere (I can’t find the post !! 😭) that Zuko has a surprisingly nice singing voice. The lyrics are based off of '40 East,' a beautiful song by the Avett Brothers (my favorite musicians!).
This comic was very experimental, style-wise. It was so fun to play with lighting!
(The pictures are from a trip to the beach I went on with my friends. Hopefully I edited out the signs of modern teenagers-- there may be a Pringles can in the darkness I failed to black out 😅)
[ID: A digital comic of the Gaang. They lay next to a campfire, covered in blankets. Sokka sings badly: “Rockabye baby, in the snow tooops,” Suki covers her ears and says, “The is the OPPOSITE of a lullaby…” Katara looks angrily and says, “Augh, Sokka, cut it out!” Aang clenches his teeth while Toph raises a fist and says, “SOKKA, MY EARS!” Zuko smiles warmly. Sokka turns angrily and says, “WELL. If no one likes my singing, why doesn’t SOMEONE ELSE do it?!” as Katara sticks out her tongue. Aang then says, “Hey, Zuko! Do you know any Fire Nation lullabies?” The Gaang looks surprised. Zuko says, “Well, I guess I know one…” He clears his throat and sings, “Sleep, darlin’, rest your head, I’m moooving through the night toward you. Sleeeeep darlin’ I’m ooon my waay to you. Let go, oohhhh, Let goooo, oooooooohh.” He ends, and the rest look at him in awe (Toph is asleep) Then, they smile. Suki says, “Zuko, that was amazing!” Katara says, “I didn’t know you could sing!” Aang says, “You have a delicate, grainy timbre, Zuko.” Zuko smiles and says, “Oh, uh, thanks. (I have no idea what timbre means)... My mother used to sing it to me.” Sokka raises an eyebrow. “Wait. you have a mom?” Zuko frowns. “Uh, yeah. Everyone does.” To Katara and Aang’s horror, Sokka continues, “Oh, I know that… but I was just thinking-- since the rest of your family are MURDEROUS, WAR- HUNGRY PSYCHOPATHS--” Zuko looks angrily at Sokka, “YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ME,” then plops back behind his log. The Suki says, “SOKKA!” Katara punches Sokka and says, “WHAT WAS THAT?!” Sokka puts his hands on his head and says, “I don’t know! I don’t know why I said that!” Aang says, “Sokka! That was a chance for some character development!” Then, Zuko yells, “I CAN HEAR YOU” Toph blearily wakes up. End ID.]