#But alas i live vicariously through art

[childrenofcain-if]

Hi! I want to start by warning that this will probably be a long rant about how much i love your IFs. But first, I hope you feel better soon!

The first IF of yours i played was the pjo one, which sent me down a rabbit hole of going through the rest of them (still haven't played tcs but i will soon 🤞🏻). It was just BAFFLING how people could be so purposefully ignorant about the concept of fanfiction and accused you over and over of plagiarism like, please go outside and touch grass, clearly the internet has stopped your brain from developing critical thinking.

Anyways, the adaptation was so well done and faithful while also exuding a newness to it that i am very excited to see unravel. I understand at the moment it has been paused (and I don't know if you've addressed why it's no longer up) and i hope with time you can feel comfortable with it again. None of the shit you've gotten was deserved or even understandable but alas, it still happened. As a content creator myself, i truly truly sympathize with you. I hope these words offer some comfort, however small.

Same goes for WLB, but the awe at how descriptive and raw your writing is really peaked through in something of your own creation. I find myself revisiting it and experiencing the exhilaration from my first reading all over again. I can't wait to watch everyone around my mc descend into eldritch madness as they become more and more unhinged. Consequences of my own actions? Never heard of them, i want my mc to go apeshit!

Now, gods where do i start... TBOTYG is *chef's kiss* flawless, i never thought i could become so obsessed with anything with only one part. I awaited the demo with baited breath, already anticipating all the ways you would surprise and impress (and you did). Every choice, every scenario, the way you build your plot and characters, your descriptions (I don't know if you can tell that I'm a little too hung up on the writing aspect of it) of characters and actions and feelings. The amount of work and effort you put into characterization is so very clear and it feels very freeing to have that amount of control over a character that we're supposed to "relate" to (in the context of the narrative, almost as if living vicariously through them). i think that no matter how much time passes, your IFs will remain a staple in the community and every player who finds your gems will feel blessed and changed after playing.

It's gotten to the point I've created a whole google doc of my MC, and made fake ig accounts with interactions (just for myself, to cope with the anticipation) and this is a level of commitment I've only felt with my own OCs and works. In such a short time, your IFs have carved a deep space for themselves in my life. I find myself replaying and going through their official pages religiously even though I've read every post already.

a question! will every LI's gender be chosen individually? I'm wondering because C and D are suitmates, but is it doable if they're different genders? same for mc and V. I'm thinking yes but also wanted to be sure

Honestly very very sorry for the long rant, I'm sure you have better things to do 😭😭 but i had the uncontrollable urge to express my feelings on your art and it took me an entire day of trying to talk myself out of it (i failed).

(also, here's my mc's profile and dm box. her royal highness maxine's ig profile is private btw. going for c route first. Mitică is the romanian diminutive for the name Dimitru, and opsis is an ancient greek concept i thought would fit V)

i’m speechless (sentimentally), dear reader 😭 i still can’t believe some people would take the time out of their day to think about my silly little worlds and the characters in it, less of all like how i’ve written my works. every single time i hit a writer’s block or have the whole doxxing trauma flare up again, i think of quitting but it’s the urge to write stories and the joy of sharing it with everyone that is still keeping me going.

i can’t explain how much your words mean to me because this is what i write for. to have people relate to or identify with or adore the world and characters i’ve built is such a dream within itself. from the bottom of my heart, i am thankful for every single reader who has always been nothing but supportive from day one. if elias has his apple, i have y’all. and no, it doesn’t mean y’all can have my meagre inheritance but it’s the sentiment that counts.

to answer your question, every single LIs gender will be selectable! blackthorne hall has individual bedrooms per suite so y’all will only be sharing the common areas and kitchenette with V while having your own personal space. it’s more like an apartment than a usual college dorm tbh.

oh and please, rant away! i’d love nothing more than to hear about your MCs and the various headcanons, questions, or theories you might have!

(also please knock C down a few pegs, they desperately need it 😔)

[wild-west-wind]

sorry if this is an odd question, but how did you become a park ranger? and did you "always" know you wanted to be a park ranger? (as in, did you decide this long ago and went to the right schools for it, or did it just sorta happen because of your educations?)

it seems like such a fascinating job, i feel like i would enjoy it but alas ive never been really good at the subjects required for it, but that doesnt stop me from daydreaming and looking at your posts about your job with like... is there a word for when youre kinda jealous of someone but in a kind and inspiring way? like "wow wish that were me!" but in a sweet way? haha im sorry, english isnt my first language and i just woke up and decided to send this

i hope you have a good day!!

Not an odd question at all!

So, as for how I became a park ranger, I live blogged the process in real time when I was first applying. In short, get two years of college (ideally a degree), learn how to write a good federal resume (it's different), apply for 100 jobs (easy once you get going), and get one job offer. The first seasonal job is the hardest, then the first permanent job. Lateral moves are really easy once you have your foot in the door. The government doesn't want to take risks on hires, but once someone else has vetted you, you can go anywhere.

And I absolutely did not always want to be a park ranger! It's like the ideal job I dreamed of at age 5, but I didn't go to school with this in mind, I wasn't dreaming about it at night. I needed a job, and this seemed like a good fit, so I went for it! It's probably a 60/40 split at my park, people who fell into this versus people who went and got one of those "Parks Management" sort of degrees that are totally useless outside this career path (and tbh really not necessary IN this career path).

And you should totally apply. The NPS manages A LOT of sites focusing on a lot of topics, and even in sites that are irrelevant to what you actually study, you'd still be bringing good skills in. Among our permanent staff I work with directly every day, we have a Parks Management degree, a music degree, geology/environmental science, biology, spanish, economics, and film arts something or other. Our summer staff has even more diverse educational backgrounds. If you're willing to put in the work, and you give a shit about where you are, you'd be a good park ranger.

As someone who lives vicariously through a lot of people, I'm happy to know some pictures and stories I'm posting here are giving you good day dream material!

[lunar-years]

Agree that RKJ doesn't really map onto the Challengers OT3 because for the most part they're vastly different people/dynamics, but I do think Roy would feel some kinda way watching what happens to Tashi in the movie.

YEAH! Like Tashi and Roy are so similar in terms of their very deeply rooted anger that manifests into loads of outward resentment towards others as well as inward resentment towards themselves. But for Tashi, right, her injury happens before her professional career has even really begun, whereas Roy is still able to reach and enjoy the peak of his career, and when it comes down it doesn't so much as crash suddenly as it does slowly wither out until the final s1 knee injury--and by that point, the death feels inevitable. I mean, he's almost 40, and no athlete goes on forever. Roy spends years playing a tortuous waiting game whereas Tashi gets hit by a meteor, so to speak. So to me they're ultimately two people with similar personalities experiencing and attempting to process two drastically different kinds of grief.

Which is all to say, i think Roy would feel Some Kind Of Way for sure watching what happens to Tashi. Definitely it would be Hard for him to watch but ultimately weirdly cathartic? Like, Tashi is sort of who Roy would've been if his very first knee injury had been an instant career ender, instead off only the beginning of a very slow downfall. Even something like coaching is very different to each of them, because for Tashi it's fueled by desperation and the need to live vicariously through someone else's body (Art's) to achieve the greatness that she feels has been denied her. I think Tashi feels sort of forced into coaching. It literally seems to her like her only choice to still have tennis in some capacity. Whereas for Roy, the decision to start coaching is very much his own, and it's a return to the sport he loves that's very significantly On His Own Terms.

Roy's resentment of his other teammates (and Jamie esp.) is something he largely overcomes by the end of s2 (his resentment of himself is another thing, but. alas, it's a journey lmao). And at that time, it's not even like Jamie is a meaningful person in his life--he blatantly hates him. By the time he starts coming around to loving Jamie, he no longer resents him like that, so the love and the resentment exist in two separate spheres. For Tashi, though, she genuinely loves Art & Patrick while also genuinely despising that they each have something that's been taken from her. So the two people she loves most are also the two people she resents most, and then she has to sit with that for over a decade and it changes their dynamics intrinsically.

I think Roy would basically Completely Get Her and Feel Very Seen and understand all of her actions whilst also being like, deeply, deeply relieved that it didn't end up like that for him. She'd be sort of a warning and a relief of a character for him, I think.

but anyway. there would definitely be tears shed at the royjamiekeeley Challengers movie night, I think.

[yinyuedijun]

😆Should i start tagging you when i find good ratiorine art so you can live vicariously through the doctor? I know i want to smooshed between the two of them. Or maybe i want aventurine between the two of us...

I will always love being tagged in any aventurine art rossi thank u for offering 🙏🙏🙏 also it is so valid of u to want to be in a throuple with them, they are an objectively hot pair with great chemistry which would only get better with you there 🫶 alas for me personally, my vendetta against ratio is too strong for that. though I would grudgingly allow a threesome if aventurine asked HAHAHFLSJS

[pythonpie]

Tfw ur (my) transition goals are impossible so you settle for "ok" and live vicariously through your muse instead

Fuckin' fellltt. I'd LOVE to be a 6'6" hunk of beef but alas I'm 5'5" and built like Danny Devito :/

BUT HEY!!! I've actually been getting more comfy in my skin now that I'm taking HRT. I'm getting BICEPS and PECS and OOUUGHHH IT FEELS SO GOOD!! I wish I didn't smell so strongly, but I'm being coached pretty well by other more experienced transmasc friends. The only reason I don't have top dysphoria is bc I grew up enamored with gay bara art in my deviantART days and have befriended some talented friends who draw their big guys with Tig ol' Biddies!! I just view my tits as big shelf pecs when I bind.

TLDR I am slowly looking more like my own muse Bruce and it makes me !! So happy !! It's why I changed his character to be a short king for an Arslani and gave him my hair type. I found that by changing some parts of my muse gave me a new confidence I didn't have before.

[attila-werther]

tagged by the wonderful @illegible-scribble!!

15 questions for 15 mutuals!

i. Are you named after anyone?

my parents named me after the first catholic martyr and also a great great grandfather somewhere on my dad's side of the family, so I was doomed to have a relationship™ with gender from the start. as for like, my name currently? not really lmao

ii. When was the last time you cried?

like, two days ago, I think? a cooking show got to me

iii. Do you have kids?

emotionally, I've adopted crassus' sons. in reality? no.

iv. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

oof. I used to, but I made an effort to cut back on it awhile ago because I don't have enough emotional range in my voice for it to be obvious :| (that said. if you stick me in a room with someone I find insufferable. it comes back in full force)

v. What sports do you play/have you played?

none, but I sure do love watching!

vi. What’s the first thing you notice about other people?

Uhhh. Voice, probably? Sometimes I have a hard time hearing things right, so I try to make sure I can recognize someone's voice, that way I don't accidentally ignore them when there's a setting with Multiple Sounds going on at once.

vii. What’s your eye color?

hazel!

viii. Scary endings or happy endings?

Whatever's most interesting for the story!

ix. Any special talents?

Uh. uhhhhh. ???????? I can play most video games with a trackpad unless the PC port is really janky.

x. Where were you born?

hell (america)

xi. What are your hobbies?

Videogames, reading stuff. OH I love baking. baked goods my best friend, my beloved

xii. Do you have any pets?

I WISH, but alas, no :( (my sister has a cat and I vicariously live through her photos)

xiii. How tall are you?

5'6"!

xiv. Favorite subject in school?

history, probably. also orchestra.

xv. Dream job?

GOD some kind of historian or museum work. in my heart, I crave art restoration. on the other hand, I also kind of just want to draw comics forever.

breaking the rules for this for my customary "tagging the usual suspects, tagging whoever wants to answer some questions": consider yourself tagged :)

[tehuti88-art]

2/16/24: r/SketchDaily theme, "Free Draw Friday." This week's character from my anthro WWII storyline is a twofer: Horst von Dobermann and Ewald von Dobermann. They are respectively: older brother and uncle of Louis Dobermann; older son and brother-in-law of Ilse von Dobermann; older son and younger brother of Rudolf von Dobermann; and are deceased before Inga Dobermann or Adelina Dobermann enter the story. Horst is a bit of a playboy (I gave him a dueling scar, seemed appropriate); I don't know much about Ewald, but he seems nice. There'll be more about them later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.

Regarding their design, they're fawn-and-tan doberman pinschers; Ewald is a bit chubbier and I gave him light reddish hair to distinguish him a bit.

This is now all the von Dobermanns! Well, except Adelina's and Gerhardt's sons, Louis II and Diepold (they take their mother's name).

TUMBLR EDIT: Horst and especially Ewald are characters I don't know a lot about, so I haven't much to say. Like Ilse and Rudolf, they both die in the Spanish flu pandemic while Louis Dobermann is recuperating in a military hospital (where he meets bride-to-be Inga). Neither Inga nor of course Adelina ever gets to meet Dobermann's family as they're wiped out within days of each other in 1918.

The rest of this entry, until the end paragraph, will be divided/individualized for these two characters to avoid too much repetition...

Alas, poor Ewald, I hardly know him. So I guess that means there's lots of room for future potential plot development. He's cheery and bubbly, a little more so than older brother Rudolf, who's more staid yet still quite sociable. Not surprisingly, he gets along well with his older nephew Horst, who regales him with tales of all his scandalous (well, not quite) exploits. Ewald never got the chance to be so adventurous himself, possibly due to not being in the best shape--unlike the rest of his tall, athletic family, he's somewhat short and plump, and has light gingery hair rather than blond or brown, so I imagine he might be a bit self-conscious about his looks, and was probably never very popular with the ladies. So he lives rather vicariously through Horst's stories of his latest adventures. This is a bit ironic, as it means he has more in common with his younger nephew, Louis--Louis is the wallflower who doesn't go on adventures, plays it safe, and feels uncomfortable dealing with people--yet, like the rest of the family, Ewald never fully understands the depth of Louis's discomfort in social situations. Ewald is just a bit shy until he warms to others, then he loves it. Louis...is utterly miserable in public. Ewald doesn't get it. So he and Louis never really connect.

That there is about all I know about Ewald as an individual so far. Also similar to Louis, as the younger brother, he's not the primary inheritor--the estate belongs to Rudolf (and by extension, Ilse)--and although he has enough money of his own, he largely relies on Rudolf's good graces, and lives on the estate as a bachelor largely because Rudolf and Ilse permit it. They don't mind--the more the merrier, and they're quite a close-knit, loving family--but it's simply a fact of Junker succession.

Ewald is unwittingly the one to bring about the von Dobermanns' end, though if it hadn't been him, it surely would've been one of the others, likely Horst, due to their socializing. Well into the Great War--which Louis, in traditional Junker fashion, went off to fight in--Ewald returns from a trip to the city, not feeling very well. By evening he's too ill to join the others at dinner, and goes to bed. By morning, he's feverish and coughing violently. Rudolf falls ill, then Ilse, then Horst, as well as much of the staff. Ilse and Horst, the better off so far, tend to the other two the best they can, but quickly realize they're fighting a losing battle; a family doctor they call says he can't come out to them, they need to get to the hospital if they want aid. Horst manages to drive them there--by now Ilse is coughing and gasping for breath, while Rudolf and Ewald are barely conscious--before collapsing himself. All four are taken to bed and promptly treated, but one by one, the von Dobermanns succumb to the flu...first poor Ewald, then his brother, then Horst, and finally Ilse. Ilse fights as long as she can--insisting she needs to see her son, refusing to believe the doctors who tell her he's in the next room--before her body gives out and she slips away.

The doctors think maybe it's best she died believing her son was still alive and in the army, rather than lying dead in the next room...they've long forgotten about the other von Dobermann son, who went off to fight in the war. They remember him again as soon as he has the family lawyers transfer large monetary donations to the hospital and the city to fight the pandemic: Louis is injured and hospitalized, but alive--the only one to not catch the flu.

...The entire von Dobermann family is eradicated almost overnight, leaving the younger son, Louis, as the sole survivor and inheritor of the entire estate and all its finances. He goes from being an army captain lying deaf and wounded in a hospital to Freiherr Dobermann, the insanely wealthy sole owner of the Dobermann estate and sole carrier of the family name. It's a lot of responsibility to take on at once, especially for someone who is so ill at ease dealing with the public. Fortunately for him, shortly after receiving this devastating news in the hospital, he receives an unexpected visitor: A young woman named Inga, who makes the rounds offering encouragement and companionship to the injured troops. For the first time, Louis feels a spark, and Inga feels the same. He eventually returns to his family estate, but he's not alone, and he's no longer the only von Dobermann left. Despite tragedy's best efforts, the family line carries on through their daughter Adelina, then through her sons, Diepold and Louis II.

[Ewald von Dobermann 2024 [‎Friday, ‎February ‎16, ‎2024, ‏‎12:00:34 AM]]

[jigensnacks]

Used reference

[torrikor]

“I AM GOING TO HACK THE GAME SO THAT I CAN CATCH HIM.” “serif pepsi don’t you fucking dare.”

i saw a video on twitter that reminded me so viscerally of @nighttimepixels​‘ pepper that i had to draw the tiniest, sketchiest comic thing ever. pepper is a huge dork deep down and no one can convince me otherwise

[mutantbanner]

been thinkin about @flightsofwonder‘s fenrir verse lately. 

give this sad old man a service dog already! (and this sad old dog a service human!)

[edzephyr]

Funny story, I was originally sent a card from Sammy Gomez that disappeared in the mail; a friend had pointed it out to me due to the resemblance to myself! Sammy very kindly redid the image (right) with a bonus (left). A small sadness of not (...yet...) being the official face of the character, it struck me, was the missed potential for sketch cards! Alas. I can live vicariously through such perfect renditions of my double...and these are just lovely. Thank you Sammy, these made my week.

P.S. tumblerian trekkies: I'm not sure what to make of my own genuine excitement seeing art based on my images; if it's a sense of universal validation or that I am just really damn excited to see the character again in life, in art, looking like himself - probably a bit of both! It's a dream for myself as both artist inspiring others and as a fan of the character - consider it appreciated!

[kiirokero]

Inure (KSJ)

Inure: To accept and grow accustomed to something undesirable

Part of the “Protect the Village!” Oneshot series.

Masterlist

Pairing: Banker!Seokjin x FinancialAdvisor!Reader

Genre: Fluff, angst, mutual pining, misunderstandings, a bit of suggestive content (?) idiots to lovers (kinda) 

Note: This was supposed to be out yesterday, but my dumbass fell asleep before I got to finish and polish it. I drank dumb bitch juice, apparently. 

Summary: Having strict, overbearing parents meant expectations, and those expectations pushed you to be a financial advisor for the sake of making them proud. Worst idea ever. Well... Maybe not. Besides, you got to meet Kim Seokjin.

Word Count: 6k

      “Taehyung... I’ve told you that eating half of your cookies every time you make a new batch isn’t good for business. You’re lucky Jimin and Jeongguk like your treats so much or you would be here filing for bankruptcy.” I scolded the younger boy in front of me. Taehyung gave me a sheepish smile as he scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry, Noona,” I sighed, shaking my head to relieve the small headache I had going on. 

      Taehyung was a good kid. Well... He was in his twenties, but he still had that childlike glow to him. But with the childlike glow came the less than logical decisions. “Tae, you still have loans to pay back and they’re coming up soon. I don’t want to be the pessimist, but it’s better to sell those cookies.” 

      Taehyung nodded, “Don’t worry! I got this!” He exclaimed, a determined grin on his face. “I’m sure you do, now you’re free to go do more fun things,” I chuckled, gathering all the paperwork that laid on my desk that detailed Taehyung’s finances. Boring stuff, really. “Thanks, Noona! Come by sometime, okay?” We waved goodbye, silence now encompassing my small plain office. 

     It wasn’t even lunch yet, and everything has already drained my will to stay awake. It’s not that I absolutely loathed my job. I enjoyed seeing Yoongi or Taehyung light up in joy when I told them they reached their business goal or answered their questions about the best way to save. It was satisfying.

But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t boring as hell sometimes. 

      Sometimes I wished I gave my parents a big middle finger and majored in art conservation. I’d rather be looking at 200-year-old paintings of dead people and bringing a portrait back to life rather than staring at paperwork with endless numbers printed on them. But, alas, I didn’t. Now here in Bangtan Village, I help the businesses (and occasional person) here thrive. 

      “Tired already?” My coworker, Hyejin, asked as she walked into my office. “An accurate observation,” I sighed, resting my forehead on my mahogany desk. “I assume Taehyung’s business is doing well then?” She chuckled, handing me some files that I’d have to look over later. “Now you know I can’t disclose client information, but let’s just say he’s lucky to have gluttons as friends.” I chuckled. 

     Hyejin snorted and shook her head. “That boy... Besides that I came in here to ask if you wanted to go out to dinner after work, but you really do look exhausted,” Hyejin’s face contorted into worry. She grabbed my face with both hands and moved it in different ways, looking at the consequences work related stress gave me. An acne breakout on my right temple, dark circles under my eyes, pale face. I’ll admit I didn’t look my best, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. 

I had to work.

      “It’s fine, really. I’m fine. I just need more coffee,” I shrugged, gently moving away from her grasp. “Y/n, running on just coffee isn’t good for you either,” Hyejin pouted, gesturing to the 2 empty mug already sat on my desk. “It’s not ideal, but I can’t just not work,” I pointed out, “You haven’t taken any days off since you came down with the flu, in January, two years ago.” Hyejin deadpanned, “You need a break. I’m sure Yoongi and Taehyung won’t go bankrupt in a matter of three days,” 

      I groaned and slouched in my old leather desk chair. “But what if they do...?” I whined. “You’re being irrational.” Hyejin sarcastically whined back, mimicking my slouched shoulders and pouty lip. “Why don’t you just ask Mr. Kim to give you a couple days off?” She suggested. I laughed, “Mr. Kim? Overly handsome Mr. Kim that I can barely speak a word too without blubbering? Me? Talk to him?” 

      I chuckled some more and Hyejin gave me an unimpressed face. “It’s not that hard! What’s so bad about it?” She scrutinized. “What so hard? His handsome face! The way he says my name! His eyes! They make me loose all brain function like I’m not a college graduate,” I pointed out, because it was obvious. 

      Kim Seokjin. Manager of Bangtan Village’s bank. 28 years old, tall, the embodiment of professionalism. He looked as if god sculpted him. A modern rendition of Galatea. He had a demeanor that called for authority without question. When he walked by, you had to pay attention. 

      Some may say that this only affected me so badly because of my tiny crush on him. But I beg to differ. How could you look at that beautiful face and not stutter? How could you hear that voice and not swoon? How could your heart not skip a beat whenever he smiled or laughed? Even if he always played the boss role, I couldn’t help but fall.

      “You’re overreacting, it’s just-” Hyejin was cut off by a knock at the door. “Come in!” I called, sitting back up in my seat and dusting off my blouse. The door opened and the one and only Kim Seokjin walked in. Speak of the devil. “Good afternoon ladies,” He said with an unwavering smile. We replied with a ‘good afternoon’ back. 

“What brings you here?” I asked, fiddling with my hands. 

“I just wanted to ask your opinion on something,” Seokjin explained. 

      He walked further into the room, rounding my desk to stand beside my sitting form. He placed a folder in front of me, three sheets of paper spilling from the manilla cardstock. Seokjin leaned down next to me, one hand on my desk, one hand on the back of my chair. I could faintly smell his earthy cologne. 

      I cleared my throat, erasing the invasive thoughts of Seokjin from my mind. This was work, business, he needed your help with something. Calming my shaky hands, I grabbed the first sheet of paper, examining the printed black numbers and letters. The closer I looked, I spotted the bank’s name printed on the top and different amounts of money though a certain number of months below it. 

    “M-Mr. Kim, are these the statements for our bank?” I asked, flipping through the three pages that contained more information on money and spending. “It is,” He answered back, turning his head to look at me. I looked at him in return, suppressing the gasp in my throat when I realized just how close he was. His honey eyes roamed my face for a moment before he spoke again, “What do you think?” 

      Confused, I looked back at the papers briefly. “Are you asking me to make a business plan for the bank...?” I questioned, looking back at my boss. He shrugged nonchalantly, “No, do you think we need one?” Answering my question with more questions. “N-No, the bank’s doing well.” I said, “We’re not drastically losing money or anything, not losing money at all actually...” I mumbled to myself, but loud enough that the man beside me heard. 

      Seokjin let out a nonchalant hum, sitting back up in his pitch perfect posture. “If you say so. I trust your opinion.” He said, gathering the papers from my desk and making his way to the door. “Wait! Mr. Kim!” Hyejin spoke up. Seokjin stopped, turning his attention on Hyejin, who had a knowing smile on her face. “Ms. L/n actually has a request for you,” She said in a sweet voice, gesturing her hand towards me. 

      Seokjin’s attention spun towards me and I stopped like a deer in headlights.  “Yes, Ms. L/n?” He asked, raising one of his eyebrows. That shouldn’t be attractive... But it was. “I- uh... I’m...” I stuttered, not being able to tear my eyes away from the alluring man in front of me. “Ms. L/n wants to know if she can have a couple days off,” Hyejin spoke for me.

      “I do?” “She does?” Seokjin and I asked at the same time. “Yep!” Hyejin said, giving me a “If you say otherwise I’ll put itching powder in your skirts” look. So for the sake of my comfort, I shut up and went along with it. A couple days couldn’t hurt, right? If there's a financial emergency, then I’ll get a call or something. 

      Seokjin cleared his throat and turned back to me with a worried look on his face. “Are you okay Ms. L/n? You’re not sick or anything?” He asked. “N-No just... I just need a break, ya know?” I nervously chuckled, fiddling with the end of my blouse to keep my racing thought to a minimum. “Ah, okay. You’re welcome to have a few days off, you deserve time off,” Seokjin smiled. 

      After we exchanged our goodbyes and Seokjin left, I whipped around towards Hyejin and glared at her harder than a teenage boy glaring at his mom after she took away his vape. “What was that?” I hissed, crossing both of my arms. Hyejin, unphased by my threatening demeanor, chuckled and sighed. “That, my friend, was you getting a well-deserved break”

      I never realized how bland my apartment was until now. I mean, yes, it looks kinda lived in and yes, there are kink-knacks lounging about. It just looks, barely used. Which wouldn’t be an understatement considering falling asleep on my desk at work is a common occurance. 

     Maybe it’s because I haven’t spent a lot of time here. I’m always cooped up in my office, whether it be my home one or the one at work. My home office looks like I’ve used it well, if all the coffee stains are anything to go off of. But the rest of my apartment looks like a set from a sitcom, purposefully messy, not “I’ve been here for 10 years” messy. 

      It was slightly unsettling how much I got used to something I dreaded. How I threw myself into a routine- an unhealthy one at that- and got used to it. I always told myself that no matter what, I’d still paint. I’d still go to art galleries and watch those calming art restoration videos on YouTube, living vicariously through the screen. 

But I didn’t.

      I suppressed the hurt I felt for not being able to follow my dream by forcing myself to like what cards my parents dealt to me, what cards I played. That fact scared me. It scared me cause even if this was my apartment, even if I had trinkets that reminded me of my favorite shows and books, even if I was away from the pressures of my overbearing parents. I wasn’t living in a home. This was my apartment, but it wasn’t my apartment.

      Not a single thing around reminded me of my passion. Not a painting, not a paint tube, not a paintbrush. Not even an art catalog. I love art catalogs. Maybe I really needed this break, maybe I needed it to show myself that I wasn’t thrilled with the life I had now. 

However, there was nothing I could do, could I?

       It was too late. The diplomas on my wall told me that. It was too late to turn back. I’m 27. I already laid my life out for myself. I would be a financial advisor until I retired or died. That fact didn’t leave a pleasant feeling in my heart. But what could I really do about it?

      The sound of the doorbell ringing jostled me awake from my nap. I gave myself a second to get my bearings. I was in my living room, on the couch. Grey blanket draped over my form while the T.V played some trash show. Groaning, I got up from my makeshift bed, stretching out my stiff muscles as I made my way to the front door. 

       Opening the door, I saw Jimin, the town's delivery boy, standing on my doorstep with flowers in his hands. “Hello Jimin,” I said, giving the boy a smile. “Hey Y/n! Long time no see,” He chuckled, “I have a delivery for you,” He said, extending the vase of flowers in his hands towards me. “Oh, thank you Jimin, but I didn’t order any flowers,” I said. 

     “Not you, someone ordered flowers for you!” He said, turning the vase around to show me a little card that was hanging off of it. “You have a secret admirer,” He chuckled. Confused, I took the vase from him, smelling the saccharine aroma of the peonies and daisies that laid perfectly together. “Oh, wow, thank you again Jimin. Have a good day!” I said, Jimin gave me his award-winning smile as he bid me farewell. 

      I stepped back inside my apartment, shutting the door behind me. I walked to my kitchen and placed the heavy vase down on the counter, grabbing the attached card. “Min’s Flowers” was printed on the front in a style resembling calligraphy. Opening the card, I saw a neat handwritten note. 

‘Dear Y/n, I hope you are feeling better after getting some rest. You should know that you can always ask for a break when you need one, you’re an amazing advisor, but I know that staring at paper work can get a bit boring. I hope you like the flowers, I remember you mentioning that your favorite art piece had beautifully painted peonies. Get some rest, okay? 

P.S. Why was the office of cantaloupes so glum? Because they were melon-colleagues!”

      “Melon-colleagues... Oh!” I chuckled to myself, only understanding the play on words once I said it aloud. “This was sweet of you, Mr. Kim,” I said to myself, smelling the peonies once again. It was stupid how easily the man made me swoon, a simple smile here, a compliment there. Anything he did made my heart skip a beat, and this was no different. 

      I carried the vase to my bedroom, placing it on my bedside table next to my alarm clock. Deciding that I should thank him, I grabbed my phone and opened it to my messenger. Was it unprofessional to text your boss? I mean, I am thanking him for a gift so I suppose it’s fine. I texted out a simple ‘thank you’ message and sending it. 

‘I got the flowers Mr. Kim, thank you. They’re beautiful :)’

But what I didn’t expect was an immediate answer back. 

‘You’re welcome and please call me Jin :)’

‘Alright, Jin’

      “I’m telling you Y/n, I think Mr. Kim has a thing for you!” Hyejin squealed over the phone to me. “No, he doesn’t, he’s just a nice man,” I said, placing the new vase of flowers that were just delivered to me on my coffee table. “He sends you flowers every day! That’s not nothing!” She argued. I rolled my eyes, picking up the new card and flipping it open to read. 

‘Dear Y/n, I got you mini sunflowers this time, they remind me of you. Also, why was the broom late for work? It overswept!’

      I chuckled, turning my attention back to Hyejin. “I’m sure he’ll stop soon,” I counter argued. “Besides, what would Mr. God’s bragging right want from me?” “God, you are so dense it hurts. Did you know he asks about you? Checks your office to see if you came in today? Every single day.” Hyejin revealed. I stopped fiddling with the flowers for just a moment. “He does?” 

      I heard Hyejin groan and sigh, “Yes! Mr. Kim totally has a thing for you!” She stressed, “Jin’s just-” “See! He even lets you call him by a nickname!” Hyejin cut me off. “Hyejin, you’ve been watching too many Hallmark movies,” I giggled, “Friends are nice to each other. No matter how badly I want Mr. Hottie to smack me in the face with his lips, it’s just unrealistic.” 

      “Okay, how about I prove to you he’s crushing on you? Get you undeniable evidence?” She bargained, and I could only imagine the mischievous face she was most likely sporting. “What are you going to do? Follow him around with a camera?” I chuckled sarcastically. “No! But what if you tell him about something you like? But really discreetly. You mentioned he remembered your favorite painting, say something in passing that nobody would care about unless they wanna impress you!” Hyejin answered. 

      “That’s a horrible idea.” I deadpanned, “But if it’ll get you to leave me alone about this, I’ll do it.” I heard Hyejin cheer, sounding way too excited about what will end up being nothing. “You’ll see!” Hyejin teased. I was about to refute her statement when my phone chimed. I took it away from my ear to see a message from Jin. “Speak of the devil, he just texted me,” I said aloud. “Well, don’t leave him hanging, go on! I’ll talk to you later!” Hyejin said as she hung up. 

Shaking my head at her antics, I opened my messages. 

‘Hey! How are you feeling?’ The text said,

‘I’m feeling better, thank you. How are you doing?’ I asked.

      That was the start of a very long conversation. One where we talked about mostly anything. Jin mentioned that he was bored in his office doing nothing and decided to check up on me, to which I joked about telling the boss about his slacking. 

      The conversation flowed without hesitation. There was no long pause between messages, no awkward one-worded responses. Just the two of us talking freely. I completed Hyejin’s challenge when Jin was telling me about all the pretty colored flowers that Yoongi had in his shop. I agreed with him, saying that it would be nice to paint it, preserving the colors in art form. 

But what I hadn’t expected was for Jin to drop a bomb on me. 

       We were talking about Jin’s printer that seems haunted because it beeps at the weirdest times. He was making a joke about talking to it and having it as a friend, and to bring that joke to a close he took a selfie with the printer. Admittedly, he looked very handsome posing next to a hunk of metal, but it wasn’t his face that caught me off guard, it was his collarbone. 

     Normally, looking at someone's collarbone on purpose just seems... Pervy... But when there’s an irritated bruise on it, it draws one's attention. Right there, peaking out from under his slightly unbuttoned white button up, was a bruise on his collarbone. Now, I’m not naïve. Why else would you have a bruise there unless someone left it on you in a steamy way? 

      Maybe I was denying the possibility of Jin having a crush on me to Hyejin, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t hoping for her words to be true. Deep down I wanted her to be right. I wanted my feelings for the stunning man I was texting and talking to for the past couple days to be reciprocated. How dumb was I?

      Of course he had a lover. Just look at him. Not only is he handsome, but he’s kind, funny, hard-working. We were in our late 20s, this was the time where most of the people our age were settling down, having kids, getting ready for the future. There’s probably going to be a ring on his perfectly imperfect finger soon.

That fact shouldn’t hurt as bad as it does...

‘Dear Y/n, You mentioned you’d like to paint the flowers in Yoongi’s shop, so I got really colorful flowers for you. Maybe now you can paint them? I’d love to see if you did. I’m sure your just as good as an artist as you are an advisor. Hyejin mentioned you plan on coming back to work tomorrow, I’m happy you’re feeling better. :)

P.S What’s red and smells like blue paint? Red paint!’

      I felt as if my body was betraying my thoughts as a slight smile graced my lips at Jin's terrible dad joke. My heart still beating for him even if my brain was against it, flashing the image of a passionately bruised Jin into my mind every time my heart rate picks up at his words. 

      What betrayed me more was my body moving on autopilot towards my storage closet, wrestling my way to the back, pulling out tubes of old paint, sets of old paintbrushes, and an old easel. What betrayed me more was my body going to an empty corner in my room, setting up a workspace for my suppressed passion to flow, setting the colorful flora delicately on a spare table. What betrayed me more was the way I didn’t hesitate to squeeze colors out of their tubes, meticulously pick paintbrushes, lift my hand up to start the first stroke. Then the second, then the third.

      Soon I got lost in the motion of forgetting everything. Enclosing myself in my own world, nothing but me and the canvas. Focusing on the details of flowers that nobody cared to look at. Stem, sepal, stigma. All pieces of a puzzle that made up a delicate lily. Those lilies making up the picture of the vase, that bouquet having much more meaning than anybody could interpret. 

      A bouquet that represented longing, hurt, disappointment. All conveyed with every stroke of the brush, every color mixed, every dot placed. Anyone looking in on my life from a fogged window wouldn’t understand why tears fell from my eyes as I continued painting. People would tilt their heads in confusion at the way I stared, longingly, at the seemingly simple flowers. People would whisper words of confusion as I unconsciously desaturated my colors to match the feeling that plagued me. 

A once bright image turned into a foggy photo of melancholy. 

      I painted those flowers and cried, dreaming about the man I couldn’t have, the man I longed to hold, to kiss, to cherish. Maybe it was stupid. Maybe I was overreacting. A simple bruise. A simple reddish bruise is all it took to break my spirit? Silly when you think about it hard enough, but feelings and rationality are a funny concoction. Never quiet going together in how they should, many opting to unconsciously separate the two. Many like me. 

      I should’ve suppressed the wayward feelings when I recognized them years ago. Lock them in a box and throw them away, never to be seen again. Have my heart swallow the key, then forget about its existence. But I didn’t. The nights spent thinking about him; the days spent watching him from afar; they passed like a flash of lighting. My feelings growing quicker than I expected, right under my nose. 

      When I finished, I didn’t move. I just looked at the painting that was a product of my suppressed sorrow. Realizing that not only did Jin steal my heart, he reawakened my passion for painting as well. 

      “Hey, are you okay? You don’t look so well,” Hyejin asked, taking a sip from her mug that aptly said “Cupid’s Sleuth” that I got her for her birthday one year after she set up two of our mutual friends together. “I guess,” I mumbled, focusing my attention on my own cup of liquid energy. 

      Hyejin put her hand on my shoulder to gain back my attention, but after a restless night my reaction speed wasn’t the best, so I didn’t notice it. “Y/n,” She called, and I looked up from my mug. “You’re even worse than you were before you took a mini-vacation, what happened?” 

      I sighed, placing my mug down on the gray counter of the employee break room. “You were right. He remembered.” I said in a gravelly voice. “That’s great! Right?” She cautioned. I said nothing, opting to fish my phone out of my pocket and opening my messages with Seokjin, turning the phone to her to show her the picture. 

     “I don’t- Oh...” She coughed. “That um...” She stammered. “Yep, looks like a hickey.” I said, putting my phone back in my pocket. “But that doesn’t make sense, he’s obviously likes you!” She argued, “Well, obviously he doesn’t!” I snapped, startling Hyejin. “Sorry, but the proof is right there, Hyejin, he already has a lover,” I sighed. 

      Hyejin didn’t say anything. Her face showed she was thinking about something, and she was thinking hard. “There has to be an explanation,” She mumbled. “There’s something we don’t know. If he had a lover, why has he never talked about them? Mentioned them in passing? Or even have a picture of them on his desk?” She pointed out. “Maybe they’re a private couple,” I reasoned. 

     Hyejin shook her head, mumbling out, “No... that’s not it,” Her eyebrows creased as we stood there in silence. “He’d at least have a picture... Why don’t you just talk to him?” She suggested. I choked on the coffee I was sipping, hacking up the liquid that made it down the wrong pipe. “Talk to him? And what? Admit that I’ve fallen in love with him so he can laugh about me to his significant other when he gets home? Not happening.” I said. 

      Hyejin rolled her eyes, “Come on, talking is the only way to sort this out. You’re an adult Y/n!” She gestured to my matured, adult body as if I didn’t already know this fact. “Sometimes, things are best left to the unknown, for the sake of my heart.” I finished the rest of my coffee and left the cup in the sink. “I appreciate your effort, but this time you can’t be cupid's sleuth.” I lamented, leaving the break room to go back to my office.

      I avoided Jin like the plague for the next few weeks. Running away from him in the halls before he saw me, leaving for lunch before him, not leaving my office unless absolutely necessary. Others were starting to notice my sudden aversion for my boss, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t look at him. 

      Every glance at his face, rumble of his voice, whiff of his earthy cologne whenever I rushed by him in the halls, it was torture. I hated the way my heart skipped a beat at everything he did. How my breath picked up and palms turned sweaty. I hated the way he still held my heart captive in his hands, even if he didn’t know it.

      So, if it hurt to be around him, I’ll avoid him. No matter how long it takes for my feelings to dissipate, I’m willing to dance this dance around him. They have to go away eventually, right? I wouldn’t be a hopeless romantic forever...

      I drowned my thoughts in paint. Left my sorrows in swirling blues and purples. Expressed my frustrations in striking reds and yellows. Wrote my whimsical wishes in hues of greens and pinks. I got lost in the empty canvas set up in front of me, giving color to the void of white. 

      I never knew how to start or where to finish, but I just let myself flow. Orange here, maroon there, wherever it felt right is where it went. Soon pictures of flowers and sunsets would emerge from the cacophony of colors that I splattered on the canvas. The worlds that I painted ones of idealization. Worlds where there was no hurt, no pain, no disappointment. 

      That’s where I was now, currently getting lost in saturations of green. Sitting in front of a canvas, I painted a world of my own. This one was turning into an open field at dawn. Maybe if I give it to a psychiatrist, they’ll understand the unconscious emotions I laid bare in the paint. Point out why such a picture gave off feelings of longing, melancholy. But for now this was my solitude, my abditory. 

      A knock on my front door threw me out of that daydream, however. Confused, I turned to look outside at the weeping sky. It was pouring. Who in their right mind was at my door? I quickly got up and hurried over to my door, not caring that I was in my paint stained apron or that I had paint on my face. But maybe I should’ve when I opened the door and was greeted by a soaking wet Seokjin. 

      Gasping, I took in his sopping form. He was dripping from head to toe, still dressed in his work attire. “Jin? What are you doing out in the rain? Come on, come in,” I said, ushering him inside. I wasn’t thinking about anything other than his comfort and the fact he was most likely freezing. 

      I quickly hurried to my hallway linen closet, grabbing one of my fluffy towels and rushing back to give it to Jin. “Let’s get you warm,” I led him to the couch, sitting him down. After Jin dried off a bit, I prepared some tea and handed him a cup. “Thank you,” He said, giving me that same adorable smile. “What were you doing out in the rain?” I asked, keeping my mind off of his charm. 

      “I wanted to come see you...” He admitted, nervously looking down at his cup. “M-Me? You see me at work, Jin,” I pointed out, taking a sip of tea from my own cup. “No... I don’t, you’ve been avoiding me Y/n,” He whinged, emphasizing the “avoiding” part. “I haven’t been avoiding you...” I fibbed, looking anywhere but at him. 

      “Yes, you have! It’s like I’ve got the plague-Which I don’t- Did I do something wrong?” He fretted, a look of hurt on his handsome face. I didn’t know what to say, I wanted to say no, tell him it was all me and my stupid feelings for him, but admitting that to him was terrifying. After I didn’t answer for a minute, Jin sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. 

      “I don’t- I really don’t understand...” He whimpered, sounding like a kicked puppy. It tug at my heart string more. “I’m sorry...” I mumbled, guilt bubbling up in my throat and stinging at my eyes.  

“I don’t want a sorry! I want an explanation! What did I do?” Jin glowered.

“It wasn’t you! Alright? It was never you... It was me! I can’t be around you!” I yelled.

“Why not?”

     “Because I love you, asshole! And it hurts to know that you already have someone who loves you the way I wish I could.” I wept, tears of frustration spilling out of my eyes. I furiously wiped away the stray evidence of my inner turmoil, turning away from the man in front of me. “Alright...? Is that what you wanted to hear...?” I sniffled. 

      Jin stayed silent. Not making a sound. The only noise that could be heard was the beating of rain against the windows and the occasional distant rumble of thunder. “I’ll call you a cab...” I choked out, stepping towards my bedroom where I left my phone laying on my bed. 

      As I went to go grab it, Jin stopped me, grabbing my wrist, pulling me back. I whipped around, bumping into Jin’s wet chest, his large hand still wrapped around my dainty wrist. “Jin, what are you-” “Where’d you get that idea?” Jin asked, cutting me off. 

      “What?” I whispered. “Where’d you get the idea that I have a lover?” He asked, staring directly into my eyes. His face was so close to mine that I could faintly feel the breaths he took. I could see the little imperfections on his face, a freckle here, a scar there. He never failed to take my breath away. 

      I peeled my eyes away from his amber ones, focusing on the- now faint- bruise that rested on his collarbone that was semi visible through his damp shirt. I reached up and lightly touched it, my hand shaking a bit. “I’m not seven, I know what a bruise on the collarbone means,” I whispered. 

“Y/n, that’s not a hickey,”

“Then what is it, Jin?” 

      “It’s the result of Jeongguk’s carelessness. He was swinging around his baton, hit me square in the collarbone. Hurt like a bitch,” He grimaced. Jin guided my hand away from the bruise, lifting it to his lips and giving it a chaste kiss. “The only bruise on my collarbone that I want is one that you give me,” He whispered, bringing my hand to cup his cheek. 

      I rose my other hand to rest on chest. I could hear my heart in my ears, beating in a rhythm rivaling the gallop of a horse. “Jin... What are you saying?” I asked. “When you started avoiding me, ignoring my texts and dancing around me at work. It hurt. I realized that without you, I felt like I was missing something important. I tried to ignore it. I tried to tell myself that even if it wasn’t what I wanted, I’d get used to it. But earlier today, when all I could see at every street corner was a happy couple... I knew I couldn’t ignore it anymore.” 

      Jin wrapped an arm around my waist, bringing one of his soft, slightly calloused hand to gently cup my cheek. Even if he was cold, the touch was so undeniably warm. “I really like you Y/n. More than I probably should.” He admitted, “So please, let me kiss you.” 

      Jin lent down, capturing my lips in his soft, plush ones as my knees threatened to buckle. His lips lingered in place, basking in the warmth mine offered. We moved together in an unspoken rhythm, a waltz we created in our own heads as our lips danced together. 

      Jin kissed me like the second he pulled away, the world we had created together behind our closed eyes would melt away, and he would be back shivering in the rain. “I love you too,” He whispered against my lips, kissing me with more fervor after every second. He held me tighter, his wide hands enveloping my waist in a comforting hold. 

      It felt so hot. Whether that was the heat from Jin or the flush from myself, I wouldn’t know. Our bodies melded in a way where you couldn’t tell who was who. Arms wrapped around one another, legs brushing together, lips clashing in a fight to get impossibly closer. 

      After we calmed down and our lungs started to burn, we pulled away. We still held each other close, not willing to part just yet. “I never want to part from you again,” I admitted, resting my head on Jin’s broad chest. “Me neither,” Jin whispered back to me, pressing a kiss on the top of my head. 

      We stood there in silence, holding each other in an embrace that said so much. So many unspoken words of “I’ve wanted this for so long” and “I never want to let go,” communicated through delicate touches and lingering kisses. 

       The man who stole my heart and refused to let it go. The man who reawakened my lost passion for art. The man who taught me that maybe talking is better than letting things wallow in an abyss of self pity, was mine. He was in my arms, kissing my lips, hugging my body. 

And I couldn’t be happier.

      “Let me see,” Jin said, looking over my should at the painting I’ve been working on for the past 2 hours. “Wow, you never cease to amaze me,” He said, giving me a kiss on the cheek. I was painting the recent bouquet of flowers Jin got me this morning, this one filled with different color peonies. “You’re so sweet,” I chuckled, giving him a kiss back. 

      Jin gave me a smile, his eyes full of admiration and love. “I love you, flower,” He whispered to me. “I love you too,” I whispered back, stealing a chaste kiss from his lips. “Are you going into work tomorrow?” Jin asked. “No, none of my clients need me so I’ll just stay home and paint,” I shrugged, turning my attention back to the canvas.

      Jin watched me paint for a little longer, stealing kisses here and there. It was relaxing to have him so close. “From workaholic to laid back painter,” Jin chuckled, his squeaky laugh pulling a giggle from my throat. “Well, I had someone to show me that it’s okay to have passions,” I said, giving Jin a loving look. “I’m glad,” He whispered, pressing a kiss to my waiting lips. 

[wonderwomanfantasy]

Certified Clown 

My Name is Sero Hanta and I’m a Rock Star

Part 3: two worlds collide at Yoko con

I’m sorry for the typo in the first panel it should be Yuri-> DDLC not dllc I just didn’t have it in me to redo a full page of tweets for one thing you know?

 I was supposed to be at a con of my own today but alas here we are living vicariously through (y/n) once again. Also I had this done before ray sent in the “certified clown” art and I SCREAMED so that was fun for me

<previous

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[arecomicsevengood]

Self-Released Comics from 2020

A bunch of zines came out this year that I liked but haven’t written anything about because I’ve been working under the assumption that my liking the artists involved is unsurprising. But I might as well, I like them more than much of what’s offered by larger publishers and they’re probably doomed to some degree of obscurity. I should excerpt images but don’t feel like doing that. All of these would be in consideration for a theoretical “best of the year” list, but I generally get conservative with those and limit it to five books that are widely available as a concession to an imagined general audience.

Gonzales, by Matthew Thurber and Ric Royer, available through Matthew’s online shop

The parties involved in this comic’s creation would probably prefer I not mention that Ric, the writer, was “cancelled” and made a pariah in Baltimore (and I believe Providence too) due to his behavior in relationships, which had a marked pattern of manipulation and psychological abuse. I don’t know how many people outside these places, in the broader comics community, are aware of such things, but certainly some people are probably buying this comic not knowing anything about it who would be uncomfortable with the concept if they knew. I support Matthew’s willingness to support his friend as an artist by collaborating with him in a context where it’s unlikely women would come into his orbit (this isn’t to imply there aren’t women in comics, only that there aren’t festivals happening right now) but not so much so I can look the other way entirely. If I had to have hand-wringing conversations with Baltimore friends, you have to have them in your head: Heads up for those who don’t like it when authors are creeps.

The comic itself is pretty good! It’s a satire about the Satanic Panic of the 1980s that basically works as a kid’s comic, where a superhero named Gonzales teaches kids to overcome their parents’ fears. Thurber’s a great cartoonist, and I don’t think he loses too much working from a script here. There’s less improvisatory surrealism and more general storytelling economy.

Everglide by Carlos Gonzalez, available through Wasp Video Roadhouse

This kinda feels like Carlos’ eXistenZ, by which I mean it’s about humans “jacking in” to video game worlds where they can run around. Also I think eXistenZ is the best Cronenberg movie, and who knows how good this comic will turn out? I like the serialized minicomic format. I do feel like the ideal format for this would be typical comic proportions, sold in retail stores monthly, and Carlos’ thin line that delineates the shape of a figure but none of its weight or texture could confront readers with its seeming amateurism. But alas! No one can afford to put out black and white genre comics in stores regularly these days. As a minicomic with so many pages in each issue, the focus on the narrative, and each issue feels satisfying on those grounds, building out its world.

Detective Double Digest by Drew Lerman and Pete Faecke, available at The Stink Hole

Drew Lerman takes his Snake Creek characters out for a detective caper with gags about pissing and a plot about cryogenic freezing. Pete Faecke, who I’m unfamiliar with, but is in the new Bubbles writing about the horse sequence in Jimbo Adventures In Paradise, does a comic where multiple people huff gasoline. It’s great. There’s plenty of jokes, an interesting tone, but also a good deal of narrative space being covered in a short amount of pages. The contrast between art styles works to the advantage of each, with Faecke sort of approximating a stiff “golden age” style while Lerman works in a scribblier cartoonier form, closer to a comic strip like Barney Google. Faecke also did a similar format split with A.T. Pratt of western comics that looks pretty good too.

Whisnant by Max Huffman, available at Motion Goods

I loved reading this comic as pages would pop up on Max’s social media feed. Honestly considered buying a page of the original art to finance the printing of the minicomic version. Improvised goofball comedy, tells a story, interrupts that story, then comes back to it, the way the gags and callbacks work is insane in this. I kinda hope he continues with it but maybe it won’t work if it attempted to function like an ongoing comic and not just a stream of consciousness thing that’s disinterested in resolution. On any given page, it feels either like Huffman is going for some weird gag or he’s exploring the form and abstracted geometry of page layout and shape. The amount of panels per page is generally pretty low, so it makes for a breezy minicomic, but reading it online a page at a time I always imagined it at classic comic book size, feeling like part of the point was the subversion of expectations of a classic “teen” comic like Archie.

Hubert by Elijah Brubaker, available at his Patreon

Elijah put up a few issues of this for free as PDFs somewhere but that might’ve been a limited time thing, and it’s worth tossing him some small amount of money to get these. They’re comedies about being an obnoxious dumbass who’s dumb and horny, sorta sitcom-y, sorta weird indie movie vibe, but with a cartoon’s sense of freedom from consequences. Strange and likable, uncontrived, honest to its world of slackers. Would be a good alt-comic in the tradition of Hate or any number of forgotten Slave Labor comics. Hubert the character’s abstracted cartoon shape is kinda like Ben Jones’ Alfe but he ends up in a house full of women and there’s a flirtatious chemistry in his interactions as opposed to Jones’ sexless goofball shenanigans. Since Brubaker’s I think most known for his Wilhelm Reich bio-comic and is currently working on a Charles Manson thing, this feels more “accessible” to a certain alienated pandemic brain looking to live vicariously through fiction while maybe the other stuff is more saleable to libraries. That may sound more cynical than I intend, I mean this comic is fun and it would be nice to encounter it on someone’s coffee table when you’re at the house getting drunk and stoned in a different era. The artist is unemployed and currently only making money from his Patreon, he deserves people kicking in donations for this thing.

Dog Biscuits by Alex Graham, viewable at Instagram for the time being

For a fictionalized document of the pandemic times we’re living in, currently being serialized on Instagram, running in sequences of panels you click through, I like this better than Crisis Zone. It seems close to wrapping up, at which point Alex will collect it into a self-published book I think will make a worthwhile purchase. As time has gone on, and the strip’s moved away from discussing protests and the Capitol Hill Autonomous Zone overtly, settling in with the romantic drama of its small cast as they try to find their way in a world where it feels like every stupid asshole might have exposed themselves to COVID already and now thinks nothing of exposing you as well feels fraught as any editorial cartooning, a sense of desperation to find joy underlies a multipage XXX sequence of characters boning. The Instagram comments are lit up with people seemingly familiar with only reading YA getting really emotionally invested and being extremely judgmental of the characters, with maybe the weirdest moment from my vantage point was someone asking the author what a character’s astrological breakdown was. These reactions do bring home how thought out, alive, and well-observed these characters feel.

[pepperboxcouture]

Eyes on the Biennale 2019

Eyes on the Biennale 2019

May you live in Interesting Times.

The 58th International Art Exhibition, la Biennale di Venezia opened on the 11th May 2019 and will run until the 24th November 2019. Split over 2 exhibitions and featuring 79 artists. So jealous if you have been, or are going to go in the future. I wish more than anything to go, alas I can’t. So I am resigned to view it vicariously through what the organisers…

[converginglives]

Creation Q&A: Emere

Next up on the OC Celebration is a  Creation survey: How did your OC come to be?

OC Celebration Week August 2018 Day 6

1) What was the first element of your OC that you remember considering (name, appearance, backstory, etc.)?

Her picture inspiration was the first in the set that gave way to Sitara and Nazreen as well. I looked at it and the muse went ‘she’s Iov’s second soulmate, she’s sturdy and blunt, rarely joking but always sincere’.

2) Did you design them with any other characters/OCs from their universe in mind?

Not really, I knew that her personality and Iov’s would have interesting clashes at times, that they were platonic soulmates. 

3) How did you choose their name?

I looked through a list of Maori names on a New Zealand based name site. It means “rival”, it’s equivalent to the Latin name Emily which means “industrious; striving”. It felt appropriate for her

Tereiti is a common Maori last name in the area I selected for her birthplace.

4) In developing their backstory, what elements of the world they live in played the most influential parts?

I did a lot of research on Maori customs and beliefs, and then did some adjustments for triad verse, though from what I found pre-colony days, there wasn’t as much adjustments needed as with some other cultures and belief systems. 

5) Is there any significance behind their hair color?

Nope, it is pretty standard for her background

6) Is there any significance behind their eye color?

Nope, it is pretty standard for her background

7) Is there any significance behind their height?

Nope, it is pretty standard for her background, though she is one of the tallest women in her family.

8) What (if anything) do you relate to within their character/story?

I relate to her wander lust, and live vicariously through studying some of the places she’s been.

9) Are they based off of you, in some way?

Not that I can think of, though I do have a degree in teaching, and she is a teacher.

10) Did you know what the OC’s sexuality would be at the time of their creation?

Nope. I was mildly surprised that she is demi-pan

11) What have you found to be most difficult about creating art for your OC (any form of art: writing, drawing, edits, etc.)?

Her Tā moko when working on her portraits, I wanted to design one similar to what real Maori have but not exactly the same to avoid offending anyone real. 

[ID: image of Emere in a front of a bookshelf]

12) How far past the canon events that take place in their world have you extended their story, if at all?

I know most of what happens between the end and when she dies.

13) If you had to narrow it down to 2 things that you MUST keep in mind while working with your OC, what would those things be?

Steadfastness and patient 

14) What is something about your OC can make you laugh?

The deadpan way she likes to respond to Pavel’s jokes

15) What is something about your OC can make you cry?

I can’t think of anything

16) Is there some element you regret adding to your OC or their story?

Nope, not even anything that someone else might say should be, she’s got one of the happier lives 

17) What is the most recent thing you’ve discovered about your OC?

Emere knows how to scuba dive, surf, and sail. I should known that but alas, she didn’t seem like she was interested originally, except she is.

18) What is your favorite fact about your OC?

She knows a form of martial arts

OC Celebration Week August 2018 Day 6

Tagging some writer peeps if you’d like to do it: @simplytyping @sj-flemings-writing @speedilydangerousturtle @teacup-universes and @theliteraryluggage