HELP THIS SILLY FRFR HE DESERVES IT SM❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️

taking art requests, preferably related to whatever media im interested in at the time

was listening to masochism tango when i started this and thrashville 2/3 when i finished it

:3

WHIRL and the other two are here ig…

thank god 🎉

imo cabby should totally win

finally drawing transformers that aren’t ocs!!!! starting w very messy glitter pen sketches of one of my favs <3

WHY DOES TUMBLR NOT GIVE ME YOUR NOTIFS I LITERALLY TURNED THEM ON GRRRRGRGRGRFGR

ANYWAYS I LOVE CAM SM RAHHHHH 💙💙

hey sillies so i have a spidersona/oc guy (he's also silly dw) his name is cameron callister and i forgot i wrote one of his canon events like a month ago so here :3

Cameron Calister was born on a rainy day with periods of hail. His mother was nearly knocked out from a baseball sized pellet. His father was nowhere to be found. He was an average child, toys and tantrums plaguing most of his younger years. His mom died.

Cameron isn't sure when she died. She was missing for a while. The gravestone simply put the date she was reported missing. He remembers standing over her grave, spider suit under his thick Winter jacket. She never knew. She died before the Cobalt Spider was alive.

He's been swinging(and running) the streets of New York for about a week. The civilians kind of tolerate him, some even let him walk a dog or two. Cobalt, Cameron's alter ego, was a bit more peppy. Smarter and more sharp-tongued, he was the new hero in town.

It was a cold Tuesday evening. There were no storm clouds in sight and everyone was wearing a black puffer. Cobalt was wearing a pair of cargos over his dark blue suit. He had just taken his dose so his webs were in top shape.

He didn't need to use his webs tonight. There wasn't enough criminals for Cobalt to break a sweat over. So, somehow, he was stuck on dog-walking duty. She was a Great Dane named Princess. She smelled of cigarettes and Cheerios.

The webbed vigilante was avoiding the melting patches of snow. More accurately, he was sliding through them while Princess barked angrily. Cobalt giggled before continuing on his walk. He heard a ding from his cargo pockets before he pulled out his phone. His gloves were specially designed to be compatible with touch-screens.

It was his cousin. "hey!!! you busy? i bought fruit roll-ups‼️‼️"

Cobalt, Cameron now since family was involved, bit his lip. He stopped where he was, Princess whining in annoyance. He shifted from the balls of his feet, eyes squinting as he tried to figure out what to reply with.

"can't. lotta stuff to do. sorry, quincy :("

Cameron shook his head with guilt, knowing Quincy never had much free time. He was only ten years old and barely had a life to live. Cameron only got to see him every month or so. He nearly zoned out before Princess started dragging him by her leash.

Cobalt quickly kept walking, ignoring the next ding that came from his phone. And the next. And the next. It wasn't like it was on purpose. It was more like he zoned out. For a while. He's not sure how many dings went off before the gunshots did as well.

Gunshots. One after the other. And then the screeching sound of rubber tires on cracked asphalt. Cameron heard all of this. Two miles away and it felt as if he was right at the scene.

And eventually he was. Not in that stupid spider suit anymore. He was wearing a torn up tang top and his cargo pants. He pushed through the bitter wind chill to get to his bleeding cousin. There were multiple shots fired. And it seems like they didn't miss a single one.

His skin was cold and pale. His lips were tinted blue and his shirt was stained red. There was no pulse. Obviously. But Cameron kept checking. He nearly dug his two fingers into Quincy's neck before he finally gave up.

He fell to his knees, melted snow seeping through his cheap pants. He thinks there were tears rolling down his face. He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of anything. Except for the fact that his cousin was completely dead. There was no chance or miracle to save him.

No Cobalt or God could save this boy. And Cameron knew.

He failed to save the one person who knew who he was inside. The only who gave two fucks about him.

Two miles. 10,560 feet. 126,720 inches.

That was all it took. Cameron was always told life is short. But never for Quincy.

He was supposed to grow old. See his hair gray and feel his joints weaken.

Not like this. Not like this. Not like this.

It can't be like this.

hope ygs enjoyed that?? idk man but i'll probably write more of him soon

(also here's an amazing drawing of cammy my great friend multi-purpose-paperclip made go give them some love please)

attempted a soundwave sketch and couldn’t bring myself to draw him in his complexly designed entirety

i have nothing interesting to post so have some quick art of julius as a human—and a jedi! how fun!!!