Jun 9, 2022
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Dadhood
Prompt: whatever happened to Mrs. Fryman? IS there a Mrs. Fryman, or was it only a passing on-and-off thing that resulted in kids?
—
When Mr. Fryman passes over the bits, Greg notices that he’s received more than usual.
“Hey, Fryman”—he pushes the tray back—“y’gave me a little too much.”
“Nah, Universe,” the vendor shrugs gently, nudging the bits towards him again. “I gave you just enough…”
A pause.
Fryman coughs into his arm.
“I’m sorry to hear about your girlfriend… S’never easy to lose someone you love.”
Greg swallows thickly, suddenly sick.
Grieved.
Trying his best not to be undone.
Fryman’s own wife died a year ago.
“I got old baby clothes if ya need them,” he continues softly. “Just holler.”
In this edition of #TBT we have the time i drew Mr. Fryman from Steven Universe. God, the glow up is crazy. BTW, i changed the underwear from a jockstrap to a speedo cause i was in the mood to draw someone in a speedo.
Displaced
Part 51/181 of Facets. || 1x51, “The Return”
The caravan of displaced boardies doesn’t have the will to go any further.
Instead, everyone pulls off on the side of the road and watches as an alien hand approaches the only home they’ve ever known.
Well, almost everyone.
Propped up against his van, Greg Universe sits with his balding head between his knees, shuddering all over.
Sick.
“He’s a big boy now, Universe,” Mr. Fryman tries, clasping a hand on his shoulder. “At some point, the kids aren’t gonna be kids anymore.”
“My kid could die,” Greg lashes back.
Afraid.
Inconsolable.
“And I couldn’t... I can’t live with that.”
Prompt: How the gems learned to cook for kid Steven.
Cooking:
In the week leading up to Steven’s arrival at the newly completed house, Pearl… socializes with humans.
On Monday, she goes to Fish Stew Pizza, where Nanafua’s gnarled hands teach her how to shape homemade dough.
On Tuesday, she drops by the Fry Shack, and Mr. Fryman demonstrates how to… well… fry various things—which is objectively disgusting, but she digresses.
On Wednesday, she watches carefully as Vidalia somehow whips up a beautiful omelette in five minutes top.
“Listen, lil’ alien lady,” she grins, sharklike, triumphant, “if you can save the world, you can sure as hell cook an egg.”
