Transformers Starscream Drawing Novelas e Histórias

“It’s a yellow Camaro like Bumblebee.” That tracked. We watched Transformers a few nights ago. I stood behind my sons and quietly observed their paintings. Grant’s was of a superhero—Batman, to be exact. Grant could pull off the broody superhero perfectly for Halloween. Casey was painting what appeared to be a tiger. “I want to paint,” I said, finally announcing my presence and giving my family a scare. “Jesus, Jon. Don’t sneak up on us like that,” Kierra fussed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle.”

She was somewhere around seven or eight, completely absorbed in whatever she was drawing, her tongue pressed to the corner of her mouth in concentration. I lowered myself carefully into a chair near her, mindful of my ribs, and looked at the paper. The drawing was full. Not in a crowded way, in a deliberate way, like she had a clear picture in her head and was working her way across the page with intention. There was a dragon in the top left, red and blocky with impressive teeth. Below it, a woman in a red cape with a pointed hat on a flying broom, carefully coloured with a orange crayon. To the right of that, something with fangs and a dark cape that I was fairly certain was meant to be a v

Chris laughed awkwardly, “not as much hidden talents, as working at a school and having to do art projects when I started. I can draw some animals. See if you like them?” I shrugged, “let’s see what you fucking got.” Chris went to draw some animals on a paper to show me, while the rest went to work and painted the room pink. April said it was a light pink or what ever the fuck the color is called. It was pink. Suddenly Kane came up with the brilliant fucking idea to look up templates on the computer. “What about like butterflies? Or ladybugs? Or dragonflies? Those much be easier than a whole animal?” Kane said.

For a little guy, he is way too good. There are all different kinds of drawings that are too neat, I shuffle through them, trying to find one to stick on our fridge in the kitchen. I smile to myself when I come across a picture of him and I then there's Jasmine and even Alex, with and without devil horns— that makes me laugh. I pass by other boyish things, like cars, dragons, dogs, dinosaurs and ninjas, lots and lots of them.

There had been a time when I’d spent years trying to make him smile. I immediately shut the thought down. Absolutely not. “Mummy!” I blinked. Leo was standing beside me. Holding up his drawing. “Look!” Saved by the child. Again. “Let me see.” I took the paper. It looked exactly like every drawing he’d made for the last six months. Stick figures. Random lines. Questionable anatomy. And somehow Iron Man. Always Iron Man. “Very impressive.” “It’s me.” I looked closer. “Which one?” “The one with muscles.”

I didn’t stop walking. Upstairs, I shut my door too softly for the satisfaction I wanted. Kicking off my leggings, I grabbed a hoodie and crawled into bed. The moment the lights were out, my brain flipped the switch on its nightly torture reel. Old memories. New fears. That terrifying feeling I’d let something important unravel tonight and didn’t know how to rebraid it. I reached for my sketchpad. My safest escape. Tonight’s drawing began with a scar. A long one, slicing down a man’s cheek. His eyes were soft, though. Kind. I made him older. Mid-thirties. Ex-boxer, maybe. Wrote notes in the margin:

Cameron decided tapping on the glass bowl in order to get the creature within to hiss and dance. “It’s cool,” Rhett replied. He’d stolen some of Aislen’s art supplies and was drawing the creature in various poses. “My customers will love these designs,” he said, using a hairband to tie his hair back out of his face, his biceps bunching and straining at the fabric of his top as he did so.

I said gently, wrapping my finger. She giggled. “No, he is! He gave me this crayon box. Ask Jimmy if you don’t believe me.” She showed me her drawing: five figures. “That’s you in pink, Daddy in black, me in yellow, Jimmy in blue... and—” “And who’s this one in red?” I asked. “Why are there horns? Is that blood, Luna?” Before she could answer, Elane walked in. Luna quickly hid the sketchpad behind her back.

Nicole. “Heidi…” my heart softened as I dropped to my knees beside her. “I’m gonna put them back, I promise. I just wanted mum to stay here for a while.” One of her drawings rested ont he table too, almost covered by mum’s scarf. I pulled it from under there. It wasn’t the best picture but I could tell it was two older women with a child in between them. One of the women’s hair was done with a yellow pencil while the other was black, the child had tiny dots around her head to imitate hair, but what they all had in common was the yellow circles hovering over their heads and the triangle wings.

"Look, Mom! I made this for you!" I looked up from where I sat on the edge of the bed, my body still aching from yesterday's confrontation with Damon. Ethan stood before me, proudly holding up a sheet of paper covered in colorful crayon marks. "It's beautiful, sweetheart," I said, taking the drawing from his small hands. Three stick figures stood holding hands - a small one in the middle and two taller ones on either side. He'd colored himself with spiky hair, me with long green lines for hair, and a larger figure with brown hair.