#I like to use the weekends to finish my zines I say

[homonyat]

Tangentially related to my passion for communism themed degeneracy but my ancom homegirl has invited me over for dinner. Ma'am last time I came for a party someone ended up on a leash with a mouthful of jackboot plzzz (I ended up with a hangover X3)

[shootingstarrfish]

HOW DO YOU DRAW SO QUICKLY AGH

I swear every time I turn around you’ve posted another masterpiece I’m jealous you can draw so fast it takes me like 3 days at least for a piece lol

AHH i keep being asked this and im flattered yall think this?? ill take a bit to explain the choices that help with my speed and circumstantial stuff that helps a lot

obligatory YOU DON'T NEED TO DO THINGS FAST taking your time is good!! i just get bored easily so i like being done with things and moving on, but i'm very aware of the fact that social media rewards this and punishes inconsistency so i get it lol

long ass ramble under the cut lol

okay so things i deliberately do to draw fast-

i specifically have 2 distinct styles because i constantly have too many ideas, and most of them don't need to be several hour long illustrations so i try to pick my battles and go for a simpler more expressive style for shitposts/memes/etc and reserve my more detailed style for ideas that actually benefit from having that extra time and effort. ofc this won't work for everyone but i tend to have 50 styles at any given moment anyway so giving myself the freedom to switch between them has been really nice

not necessarily deliberate??? but theres no perfectionism in this house, which helps a lot so i don't spend ages fussing over minute details (im a perfectionist at heart but a lazy one LOL)

giving myself time deadlines is also really helpful, like "i have to finish the lineart im the next half an hour" has been really good for getting me to focus and get things done, even if i don't make the 'deadline'. i think generally being conscious of how i use my time is good

okay so circumstantial (?) things-

ALSO USE REFERENCES they help a lot!!! stumbling around trying to figure things out on your own is time consuming, don't be scared of using references!

this isn't a speed thing but i think it's important to note that i spend like ALL my free time drawing, probably to a ridiculous degree. i draw during my work break, i draw after work, on the weekend, speed is nothing in the face of time lol. im usually tired after work but im also stubborn so i try to push through and draw anyway (50/50 chance it works and i get something done or i just sit there in a daze wishing i was asleep LOL)

im also a dumbass who takes on way too much, i have a whole buncha zines and commissions constantly at all times cause i can never say no so i kinda just HAVE to be fast to keep up with everything. i don't recommend it but it's a thing ashdjfj

i also used to be on tiktok and for some god forsaken reason i spent like a solid few months consistently posting 3 times per day which burnt me out SO fast and i absolutely don't recommend but it definitely required speed lol

i will also say that as i draw more and feel more comfortable in my art it comes to me a lot more naturally, and i'm able to make decisions on the fly a lot easier

also okay so starr lore my dad used to be really against me drawing so i would have to sneak onto the computer when he was out of the house hahaha, this gave me anywhere from 30 mins to 2 hours per day to do whatever i wanted, so i had to quickly adapt to that and be super fast if i ever wanted to get anything done

again speed isnt the be all end all of anything, tbh most of this is just my brain working in weird ways that prefers the quicker pace so please don't compare yourself!!

okay long ass ramble over thanks for reading <3333

[zukkaoru]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @starrynightarchive and @feralshadowdemon, ty for the tag!! putting most of this under a cut since it's long lol

tagging (with no pressure): @that-was-anticlimactic @backhurtyy @rejectscanon

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

167 linked to my main ao3 account. maybe some others floating around that have been made anonymous or orphaned or something. who knows

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

965,845 - okay wow i did not realize i was that close to 1mil. huh

3. what fandoms do you write for?

well right now the bsd brainrot has taken hold of me and i cannot think of much else. but i do have a handful of zine fics for other fandoms that are in progress / will be posted eventually. i have a very long list of fandoms i have written for in the past; however, i would not recommend reading anything posted before 2021

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

plum blossom

you clutched my brain and eased my ailing

my calamitous love & insurmountable grief

five times ryan came out (and one time he couldn't)

(just wanna be) somebody i'm proud of

my disclaimer here is that these are absolutely nowhere even close to being by best fics and i kind of resent them being my top five

5. do you respond to comments

i'm trying🫠 i let like 600+ pile up in my inbox over the course of a year and a half (or more) and so i recently went through and just marked everything as read instead of actually responding. BUT (almost) all comments on fics posted since ~august 2023 will get responses. exceptions are if i literally don't know what to say bc i'm bad at talking to people sorry

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

you don't even want to know the horrors that showed up in my google docs this weekend. but also either if one of us dies or may we stay lost on our way home

7. what is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

i'll go with this ultraviolet morning light just bc it's probably the greatest payoff since it takes longest to get to the happy ending

8. do you get hate on fics?

not typically but there have been a few mean comments over the years. actually i got one bookmark on a fic that's in a series for a fanweek that says "ignore the others in this series but this one is good" and honest to god it just made me laugh. like.. you do realize i can see that, right?

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

i can barely write kiss scenes

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

i don't usually BUT when i was in middle school my friend and i created The Megacrossover, which consisted of us putting a bunch of different book characters into a hunger games arena. and we just kept adding more fandoms, and having new characters be transported into the arena. it was a good time. this was also entirely handwritten as all fanfiction should be when you're 10-12 years old

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge. definitely found one fic that was like. heavily influenced by mine back in my ouat days though

12. what's the longest you've spent working on a fic? and the shortest?

longest: over a year, at least shortest: a couple hours (not including editing)

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

not technically since the megacrossover but corey and i co-come up with ideas like. at least once a week

14. what's your all-time favorite ship? from all fandoms?

outlaw queen has to be my answer to this forever and always. never forgive never forget 🏹🍎

15. what's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

too many to answer. probably the biggest one is the azula-centric sequel to tuvml that i simply do not have the attention to write bc the hyperfixations have travelled elsewhere :( there are many many others though. i have an endless amount of ideas and not enough time

16. what are your writing strengths?

people often tell me i'm good at characterization and tbh i do pride myself on knowing characters better than 97% of the rest of the fandom. not all of the characters. but most of them.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

short attention span </3

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

do whatever you want forever. but like.. respectfully

19. first fandom you wrote for?

probably percy jackson when i was like 10. no you cannot find that anywhere online because i, like an idiot, deleted it without saving a backup copy

20. favorite fic you've written?

definitely (i am) the whisper of a memory. i love a lot of my fics, but that is one i am especially proud of because i tried new things with the formatting and i think it worked really really well

[pithmemos]

march excerpts

"Or I could mention Merchard softly turning her pages." Eileen Myles, Bread and Water, page 107 in this edition or in the story Bread and Water

"I didn't do anything. You could have gone to any memory. Why are you letting yourself be defined by the bad?" the last few pages of a zine from Marisa Fulper Estrada from toutoune gallery

In attempts to offset losses of the weekend (rest, work, ASL class, a screening booked, Rachel's birthday party, 340 at the vet) I sleep late Sunday, get a chai (marginally better hot than cold from the terrible cafe I won't name) and a basque cheesecake slice (always soggy, but better than not having cheesecake), read an interview Jess has out in the world, knit more with stormy violets, see Daisies at the lightbox, finish Bread and Water on the train home. A woman came in right before the movie started and sat to my left, asked if that was a real book I was reading in such a precious format, told me she loves Eileen Myles, and asked which location I worked at and where she could get the book. I almost gave her my copy, but I'm precious about it, too, and also I felt bad there's a scuff on the front of it. And I know I have a copy hidden in my stock for online so there is one for her if she looks for it with us. Now I'm home and watching Nina breathe.

I have a doppelganger in my new neighbourhood, but I haven't seen them yet (and likely wouldn't realize). The woman who owns the pet store I get hay from always mistakes me at first for someone else, who she's told me about now. At the terrible cafe I won't name, the owner who I rarely see says "oat latte, right," when I go to order, which is not my order, and she seems confused when I ask for something else. She always asks me how I'm doing on my day off, like I'm supposed to have a different job where I often work weekends--which I used to, but she wouldn't know that, and so I think she sees this double when she looks at me, too. Note to self to return to the double and the uncanny--I've been a bit obsessed since I read that article to help my sister's friend Kayley on an assignment a few years ago, and have a book including those chapters, somewhere. Now it makes me think of Lovecraft's Henry Akeley, that shiny metal jar on the shelf, the mostly empty chair.

[lizziemack]

WIP TAG GAME

WIP Challenge 😁❤🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤🤍❤😁🤩🤩 Rules: tell us the titles of all the WIPs you are currently working on right now and a little about them. Then tag five other writers. I was tagged by @malcyon ! Thanks for tagging me.

cut it out from flesh and bone: my piece for the Cancel Me Daddy zine so I’ll only say that it’s probably the darkest thing I’ve ever written 👀

Age Appropriate: I started this piece last year for JayDick week and never finished it. I want to have it ready for this year but it’s very much on the back burner. I have a vague outline and a opening paragraph.  Mommy Weekend Fics: I have like 3+ ideas that I’m developing rn but the only thing I have on paper is brainstorming. I��m thinking a HarlIvy vaguely inspired by trifles by susan glaspell/lamb to the slaughter by roald dahl and like my vague perceptions of Thelma and Louise never having seen it, and a Donna/Kori photographer falls for her subject thing? Plot is very nebulous at this stage. That Notable Librarian: It’s been almost a year since I worked on this one I’m not gonna lie. It’s sitting on ao3 with 9 chapters out of 10 posted and it’s probably going to stay like that until I find the spoons to work on it. I have the outline and first 1/4th of the final chapter complete but I think the entire thing needs re working and I’ve been putting it off to work on event fics and pwps. I have several other fics I want to start working on, soft sadist jaydick, jaytim first time together, a few rare pair fics with Dick and Slade, another instalment in my ‘What if I’m not Okay?’ JayDick series, but I don’t have anything down on paper for them so they probably don’t count as WIPs? Tagging @dexdefyingstunts @charleswaterloo @epistemologys @heteronymousbosch @guiltyofthesamethings

[razorsadness]

conversations in the kitchen

I’m half-standing, half-sitting on the kitchen windowsill, smoking an American Spirit, listening to the noises of my house, the overlapping conversations of my housemates. Waylon’s in the living room, banging out a new song on an out-of-tune acoustic guitar, the one he carved This Machine Kills Fascists into, in homage to Woody Guthrie. Bandit’s in her bedroom, playing Black Star so loud the bass reverberates through the thin walls. —Can ya keep it down? I’m tryin’ ta write a song! Waylon shouts, in his voice that’s somehow half country twang, half southern drawl, even though he’s from the suburbs of Chicago—maybe it comes with the name? Ziggy looks up from her notebook, says—Hey, Xiao Chen said he’s gonna be late, he’s doing the drag cabaret again. —Ah fuck, says Vegan Pete, I just hope he doesn’t bring anyone home tonight because he has the loudest sex and I have to work the early shift at the diner tomorrow. —Tilt your head back down, Sleazy Pete says to Vegan Pete, I’m almost done with your haircut. When the haircut is complete, Vegan Pete runs over to me—Hey Jack, how does my hair look? I try not to laugh, say—I’m not gonna lie, dude. Your hair looks like shit. You kinda look like...a lesbian Pee Wee Herman. Vegan Pete just shrugs, says—Oh well, at least I didn’t have to pay for it. Bandit comes bounding out into the kitchen, dressed only in a black slip, says—Don’t throw that hair away, I wanna use it in my art. Ziggy looks up from their notebook again, says—I just finished my first zine. —Uh... Sleazy Pete says, that’s your journal. —Well I’m gonna photocopy it! —You can’t just photocopy your journal and call it a zine. Now the sound of boots clomping up the stairs, and it’s Esma, saying—I’ve got tamales! Jalapeño and nopales. It’s my abuelita’s recipe but I made it vegan. And everyone is suddenly quiet, stopping what they’re doing to gather around the table.

I look around the kitchen. At the posters and flyers peeling off the walls—flyers for friends’ bands and art shows, smeary Xeroxes of punk iconography, posters of things important to our household and of our various hero/ines: Frida Kahlo’s The Two Fridas, Anarchists of Chicago/100th anniversary of Haymarket, Black Panthers/All Power to the People, Johnny Cash flipping the bird at San Quentin, Patti Smith as photographed by Robert Mapplethorpe, wearing a leather jacket with no shirt beneath and looking so perfectly androgynous and tough, John Waters’ Female Trouble, Guerilla Girls/Advantages of Being a Woman Artist. At the window Bandit had kicked a hole through the weekend her boyfriend and her girlfriend both dumped her, and we tried to cover it with duct tape but it still lets the cold in and if it’s windy, makes a weird rattling whistle. At the ashtray, overflowing with cigarette butts and the dregs of joints. At the shelves and counters, and everything on them: the dumpstered vegetables that are already half-rotten, the mason jar full of paintbrushes, the empty wine bottles filled with dead roses, the candles (La Virgen de Guadalupe, Santa Muerte, Jinx Removing), the coffee pot so layered with burnt coffee the glass looks black, and I think: home.

I look at everyone in the dusty light, turning gold, wreathed by steam rising from plates of tamales—Waylon with his mullet ‘hawk and gap-toothed smile, Ziggy with the green stocking cap they never take off; Bandit whose nose got broken in a bike accident so it’s now permanently crooked, and so lovely; Vegan Pete and his Animal Liberation/Human Liberation neck tattoo, Sleazy Pete with his ‘70s porn star mustache; I think of Xiao Chen backstage at the drag bar, putting on green fishnets and glitter eyeshadow. And Esma, Esma Rose, with her thorn tattoos and vintage pink sweater and polka dot skater skirt, so beautiful my breath catches like thorns in my throat when I look at her. All of them—my monsters. My family. I love them so much I can almost forget that I haven’t found the person I came here to find. I can almost forget I’m still searching for a ghost.

[mari-onberry]

Win-Win

For the Kagami Zine! @kagamizine​

This was a collab with @landturtlealyce’s beautiful drawing

Also on Ao3

During fencing practice, Adrien could tell that Kagami was nervous. She wasn’t as quick on her feet as usual, and she seemed distracted by something. He knew her identity as Ryuko, and she knew his identity as Chat Noir, so he was sure there wasn’t much to be worried about on that front. Also, she wasn’t the type to let that sort of thing distract her. So, he approached her during break. 

“Kagami, are you alright? You don’t seem like yourself today.” Despite them dropping their romantic feelings for each other a while ago when Kagami started dating Marinette, he still worried about her. He wanted her to know that he was there for her, no matter what it was she was going through. 

She was a little startled at the question, since she had been stuck in her own head for so long. “I’m okay, it’s just family problems, I don’t want to inconvenience you with that.”

Adrien would’ve been a little hurt by that sentiment if he wasn’t so worried about her. “Kagami, you can talk to me about anything. And I’m probably the one person who can sympathize with you about family stuff.” 

She gave in, realizing it would be better to tell him. She needed to talk to someone about it. “My mother wants me to go to that charity gala this weekend. And I’m fine with going, but she expects me to bring along a romantic partner. I would bring Marinette, but…” she didn’t finish her sentence, already a little caught up in her own head again.

“Bring me.” Adrien suggested almost immediately. “I know we aren’t dating, but we can pretend to be to get your mother off your back about it. Plus, it would probably make my father happy as well. Win-win.” He smiled reassuringly at her, hoping his suggestion would be a viable solution.

She pondered it for a moment, seemingly thinking through possible outcomes. “Okay,” she said reluctantly, then, “Yeah, that sounds good,” as she realized that it was her best choice right now. It even seemed like a fun idea, since it would be a good excuse to spend time with him. Plus, the Agreste family was invited to the gala as well, so he would be there anyway.

So, they planned it out, and Kagami was planning on telling her mom about it after practice when her mom picked her up. But once practice was over, they walked out together to see their parents talking. Gabriel had chosen this of all days to pick his son up from practice, which was a rare occurrence. “Father!” Adrien said, feigning excitement, a little worried. 

“Son. How was practice?” 

“It was fine,” Adrien answered, too preoccupied to elaborate. He started to make his way to the car before either of their parents could question them on their relationship. He didn’t want to lie, but he was willing to do it for Kagami’s sake. He just didn’t want to mess up their plans to tell their parents individually, since that seemed like the best way to not make that big of a deal out of it. If their story was too outlandish, their parents might get their hopes up about them getting married one day. Unfortunately, Gabriel seemed intent on being the one to mess up their plans. 

“So, Adrien, have you decided who you’re going to bring to the gala?” Gabriel asked before Adrien could escape to the car. Kagami looked at Adrien, realizing he was being pressured into a relationship, just like she was. 

Adrien smiled, seemingly genuine this time, and answered, “Yep!” More excitedly than was needed. “I’m going with Kagami.”

He bought into the lie, probably because he wanted it to be true, and even though their original plans were messed up, this way seemed to have a similar outcome. Then, Tomoe said something that made Kagami’s heart drop. 

“Why don’t you bring that Dupain-Cheng girl along with you, too? I heard her fashion designs have been getting popular lately. It’d be good publicity for her,” she asked them.

Adrien almost laughed from the irony, but answered, “I’ll ask her if she’s available.” He didn’t want to complicate the situation even further, so he thought the best thing to do would be to save that for later. 

They went their separate ways, and before Adrien got in the car, he shrugged at Kagami to say, “I’m sorry.”

Later that night, Kagami was able to call Marinette. Parental controls had been a difficult obstacle, but Marinette found a bunch of different ways to bypass them through Nino, and it had been a lifesaver. She needed to explain what exactly was going on, since even though Marinette was hopefully willing to go along with it, she was more than likely confused. “Marinette?” She asked as quietly as she could, since her mother was asleep in the other room.

“Kagami!” Marinette answered, sounding ecstatic to get a call from her girlfriend. “I was hoping you’d call. The party sounds fun, I can’t wait!” From her words, it became obvious that Adrien had already called her and told her about the gala.

Kagami decided she needed to clear things up as soon as possible. “I’m going to have to pretend to date Adrien.”

“What?” Marinette asked. That came out of nowhere. 

“I asked Adrien to pretend to be my boyfriend while at the gala.” Kagami started, trying to explain her thought process. “I thought it would be easier for him to be my plus one, since both our parents want us to be married, but I didn’t think it would turn out like this. I’m sorry.” 

Marinette let the information sink in. “Alright. Well, I know my family life is much different from yours, but we could’ve just gone as friends. I’m fine with Adrien being there, though, especially if it’ll help get your parents off your backs for a while. Thanks for telling me.”

Kagami blushed– she actually had a reason she didn’t suggest going as friends. “I didn’t think I would be able to pretend to be just friends with you anymore.”

Marinette couldn’t believe she was lucky enough to be dating Kagami. She knew that even if they would have had trouble pretending to be friends, most people probably wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference; they weren’t much for PDA after all. “Alright, I guess I can forgive you,” she teased. “Well, hopefully it won’t be too bad with Adrien there.” 

Kagami agreed and they stayed silent on the phone together for a while, not wanting to hang up. 

“Hey Kagami?”

“Yeah?” Kagami prompted her girlfriend to continue. Her eyes were closed and she had fully expected to fall asleep while on the call. 

“Do you still have feelings for Adrien?”

That was a tough question. Even after they started dating, they were both pretty open with the fact that they used to have feelings for Adrien. Key words: used to. It was just expected that both of them dropped those feelings once they started dating. In reality, that wasn’t as easy as it sounded. 

When Kagami didn’t answer, Marinette elaborated. “I mean, you did go to him first to ask him to pretend to date you. I know you two are friends, but there were other options,” she explained, then realized why Kagami might be having a hard time answering. “You can tell me, Kagami. We promised to be open about these things. I won’t be mad.” That was a guarantee, but Kagami still felt her heart drop when she thought of the consequences if she said ‘yes’. 

“I might. I’m not sure.” 

It was rare for Kagami to admit to not being sure about something. “Okay. That’s fine. Maybe pretending to date him will be a good opportunity, then.” 

Kagami noticed that Marinette seemed awfully fine with her girlfriend having feelings for another person, and Kagami appreciated it, but in this case, she couldn’t help but read into it. Marinette had always been in love with Adrien, and even if she had buried her feelings when she got together with Kagami, it was hard to drop that kind of feeling just like that. She didn’t say anything, though, since the whole situation was starting to stress her out. And maybe Marinette was right; maybe the fake dating thing would help clear things up.

Soon, it was the weekend, and all three of them met up in front of Adrien’s place to go to the party. Gabriel didn’t like having people at his house, but he had suggested Marinette come, so he thought it would only be polite to give them a ride.

Kagami’s breath hitched once she saw her girlfriend dressed up. Marinette didn’t have time to prepare a new dress for this particular event, so she wore one that she designed a couple months ago. Kagami had seen her in a similar dress before, but she never got used to how pretty she looked all dressed up. 

They drove to the gala in near silence, all three of them in the back while Gabriel sat in the passenger seat, and their bodyguard in the driver’s seat. Kagami found it sort of awkward stuck between her girlfriend and the boy who was pretending to be her boyfriend, but she was determined to make the most of it. Gabriel wasn’t looking back at them, anyway, so she took hold of Marinette’s hand, sliding her own hand against Marinette’s to rest it where it always fit perfectly, then set her other hand on top of Adrien’s. His hand was surprisingly soft, and he jumped when he felt Kagami touch him, but he didn’t make any effort to complain or move his hand. 

Once they got there, Kagami was actually buzzing with excitement, though she didn’t show it. Earlier, sometime after her call with Marinette, she had decided that if she had to be here with her girlfriend, she wasn’t going to be forced to pretend they were only friends. She didn’t owe anyone that. Plus, it wouldn’t be obvious unless they kissed in front of everyone. Her only problem was Adrien, and although she knew she didn’t owe it to anyone to pretend to date a boy, she actually quite liked the pretending. Adrien seemed to like it, too. So, she walked into the building with Marinette and Adrien on either side of her, arm-in-arm with both of them. 

Gabriel didn’t seem to care– Kagami was convinced he was there just to impress potential investors– and it didn’t seem like anyone else there cared either. So, they all embraced it. They sat down at a table that was draped with a fancy white tablecloth, and soon Adrien and Kagami’s parents were nowhere to be seen (no doubt busy with work) so they were no longer supervised. 

“You look nice.” Adrien said, wanting to start up conversation, but not knowing how. Then, to clarify, he added, “Both of you.”

Marinette replied, “Thanks, you too,” to be polite, but she wasn’t wrong. Adrien looked good in just about anything, so he couldn’t go wrong in a suit. 

Kagami’s reply to Adrien’s compliment was quite different. “She does, doesn’t she?” And pressed a kiss to the back of Marinette’s hand, much too intimately to be platonic. 

“Kagami!” Adrien scolded, “Aren’t we supposed to be the ones dating?”

Kagami shrugged. “No one’s looking. Besides,” she turned to look at Marinette, “I told you I wouldn’t be able to pretend to just be friends with you.” Marinette blushed, but Adrien blushed even harder. 

Marinette didn’t mind. “I do like this better than having to sit around while your parents deal with business deals.”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “Come on, it’s not that boring. I’ve been to a lot of these things, and usually the entertainment and hors d'oeuvres make it worthwhile.” He looked around the room, and although it was full of old, rich people, there were at least plates full of tarts, pâté and other small dishes. 

Kagami shook her head, admiring his optimism, but finding it a little naive. “I’m glad you’re able to look on the bright side of things, Adrien, but I’d much rather be doing pretty much anything else right now.” That wasn’t true; she did enjoy being with them, but she would rather they were at a movie, or a concert, or fencing. “We need to do more stuff together, the three of us.” If only their parents would let them. She couldn’t wait until she was old enough to move out. 

“Let’s make the most of our time together now,” Marinette said, already coming up with plans in her head. If only they could be alone, without a hundred people around them. “Do you think your parents would notice if we went missing for a while?”

Adrien was worried about the proposition, since he wasn’t one to risk getting caught misbehaving by his dad, but it wasn’t as if Gabriel cared about him in that particular moment. 

Kagami was fine with disobeying a little if it meant spending this limited amount of time together. “I’m fine with taking that risk,” Kagami answered, and almost instantaneously, Marinette took her by the hand and dragged her into the hallway, where they could hopefully escape unnoticed. Kagami took hold of Adrien’s hand, and he trailed close behind them.

Just because he was fine with the decision, didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about the consequences. “Where are we going?” 

“Relax, Adrien, it’s not like this is the first time we’ve all snuck out, just the first time without a city to save.”

That was enough to convince him. He followed along without another protest after that; after all, Chat Noir wouldn’t worry about this sort of thing. Maybe for the night he could pretend to be his daring superhero counterpart, just without the responsibilities. 

Marinette led them out the back entrance and they were finally alone. They weren’t quite at their destination yet, though, and she finally revealed her plan. “I think I saw an ice cream shop on the way here, only about a block away.” They would have to hurry there and back to minimize the risk of their absence being noticed, but they decided it was worth it. 

Marinette was right, the walk to the ice cream shop was short, but that didn’t mean it was uneventful. Adrien, intent on channeling his Chat Noir persona, felt a bit more confident. But, being the dense and clumsy person that he is, Adrien was still not the best at expressing his feelings. That sort of thing certainly wasn’t as easy when he wasn’t wearing a mask. 

“So, Kagami, now that we’re pretending to date, does that mean I get a kiss?” He teased, knowing it was far-fetched to ask such a thing.

Kagami didn’t see it that way. “Well, we don’t really have to pretend right now, but I wouldn’t mind a kiss.” She liked seeing him flustered, and she especially enjoyed the way Marinette reacted. It was as if she liked her girlfriend flirting with her (supposedly) former crush, despite her better judgement. “My lips are for one girl only,” she said, and Adrien was almost relieved that she had reinforced his suspicions that they were exclusive. As much as he was attracted to the two girls, it was too complicated for him to think about dating them both. Then Kagami added, “But that doesn’t mean there’s no room for a boy,” and that made Adrien look like he was close to collapsing from embarrassment. 

Once they got to the shop, they had decided to share a cup with three scoops: one blackberry, one orange, and one peppermint. It was an odd combination, but it was tasty, and Kagami was glad that they were actually trying out the combination of flavors André had assigned them, even if it wasn’t something they’d order again.

After a half an hour of being absent from the party, they decided they had been gone long enough and started to head back. It was getting dark now, and sunset served as a nice view for their walk back. They didn’t look forward to the festivities that now seemed to pale in comparison to their “friend” date, but it was almost bearable now that they had gotten a half an hour to themselves. 

“Come on, we have a party to get back to,” Kagami said once they got to the back entrance, taking hold of Adrien’s hand and leading him back into the building as he tried to hide the blush on his face. For some reason, holding hands with her felt a lot more intimate than it did earlier in the day. 

That night, maybe she would call Adrien as well as Marinette, and maybe they would talk everything through, or maybe they’d laugh it off as a one-time thing. Maybe a year from now, things wouldn’t seem so simple between them. Kagami decided she could deal with that later. For now, she could just enjoy the way Adrien’s hand clammed up against hers when she winked at him, and savor the quick glances Marinette would give her when she knew no one was looking.

[tomtyve]

Hello, its me again. Happy to say that my zine selected images is now available for purchase through the beautiful people over at Goodpress. look here for images and info. otherwise, its friday, working in my studio a bit. going to makret artfair tomorrow, looking forward to that. Today Im hoping to finish a collage, got som new vinyl stickerpaper yesterday. Also, Im thinking alot on how creators/ artists are using different social media plattoforms, how everyone present themselves, some is almost like influencers, some are like a diary, some are just nice photos of there art. how to find balance between privacy and showing yourself. its interesting i think. I constantly think about how often Im at instagram, facebook for example. must try to not be so active, but still show my work and life. any who. have a lovely weekend // T

[bronanlynch]

(bi)weekly media update

apparently I just. do these every two weeks now huh. sorry to the tuesday again no problem extended universe crew for being unable to keep to a consistent schedule

listening: Curses by The Crane Wives, a band that I just started listening to but I like their sound, nice and fun and folksy, lots of songs with ominous lyrics that are good on fanmixes

honorary mention to the new Lil Nas X song because we are all love the new Lil Nas X song, it’s a bop, it’s been stuck in my head on and off ever since I heard it, and I am not immune to sexily blasphemous music videos

reading: finished Smoke & Ashes, the most recent book in the Kate Kane series that I talked about last week, and I enjoyed it a lot but there sure is a cliffhanger and afaik no set release date for the next one. it’s pretty angsty but does have lots of nice moments of hope, and some discussion about recovering from both depression and alcoholism that I appreciated.

also read more romance novels, and I appreciate that Cat Sebastian, like KJ Charles, knows how to write about rich characters while making it incredibly clear that hoarding wealth is morally indefensible. it’s like the “wow, cool robot” thing where I want to be told that I’m right for disliking capitalism/imperialism/the military industrial complex, but also I do very much want you to show me the cool robot (hot rich prettyboy in nice clothes)

also finally started Harrow the Ninth today, so I’m sure I’ll have more to say about that next time

watching: speaking of “wow, cool robot,” watched a little bit more Turn A Gundam, which sure does have some cool robots. also some gender. the main character crossdresses to like, hide their identity for fun complicated spy reasons and it’s not treated as a joke or anything? it’s just a thing that they do? and no one comments on it beyond when they were like “hey you have to wear a dress to this event because the people from the moon think our mech pilot is a woman and they can’t know it’s actually you because they still think you’re working for them”

absolutely hate that the guy on the right is just wearing a normal boring suit though like. c’mon man

Zan and I have been watching The Falcon and the Winter Soldier aka the sambucky show each week and my review so far is. well it’s about what I expected. the first episode was incredibly slow and kinda disappointing (Sam and Bucky never interact! the fact that Bucky might maybe miss Steve is never brought up, not even by his therapist, who tbh gives me incredibly bad vibes! if my best friend and the only person I knew from my past fucked off and left me alone to deal with my trauma in favor of ruining the life of a woman who’d moved on from him, I’d be pissed!) (for the sake of not being angry all the time I pretend Steve died instead of did That).

the second episode was more fun, more happens, there’s some incredibly heavy-handed corporate queerbaiting mixed in with some actually nice emotional moments (this article and this thread by the same person have a pretty good summary of All That). the handling of race, uh, could be better tbh. I appreciate what they’re going for, and to be fair the whole show isn’t out yet so it could get better (since some of the problems are tied to, y’know, the overall political problems, i.e. the fact that the villains are a group of people, led by a Black woman, who hate borders and illegally deliver medication to refugees which is somehow a bad thing, I kind of doubt it). but there is something about the way they’re making a Black man the mouthpiece of American imperialism, and the way that the new (white) Captain America who takes the shield when Sam doesn’t want it has a Black girlfriend and a Black best friend who, so far, have mostly just given him motivational pep talks, that doesn’t really inspire confidence. (this article and thread are a good overview of that aspect of the show)

also, I think it’s very funny when people are like “well you can’t say anything about the show yet, only two episodes are out” like. first of all lads it’s a six episode show, a third of the content is a decent chunk to use to form an analytical opinion, and second of all, if something strikes you as Not Great, you’re allowed to feel that way and say that, you don’t have to wait to see if there might be some twist or context that makes the thing you didn’t care for great and fine, actually,

that being said,

(when we watched the first episode, the immediate next thing we did was watch Winter Soldier and I was pleasantly surprised how well it holds up. not perfect obvi but still a solid movie, and the music does fuck)

also watched this very neat little video essay on Victoriana costuming and like, why so much media is set in the Victorian era, and started the c-drama Word of Honor which I’m sure will either be in a future post or just. something I start blogging about normally

playing: the weekend before last was the Beam Saber season finale, which I’ve already posted about quite a bit because it was fun and I love to play games with my friends. played a very fun game of Things, Eldritch and Terrifying by S. Gates this past weekend. it’s a very fun game, with very easy-to-follow rules and lots of helpful adjectives and scene starters, and also just conceptual it slaps (one person is an eldritch terror, the other person is the human that they’re courting. there’s a variant where you play as a vampire. it slaps). we made it uh, more of a rom-com than a horror story but I had a very good time, we told a very cute love story, and we’re gonna try again to make it more horror-y next time.

also I finally started Brigmore Witches and it’s very good and fun. my one complaint is that I want the Whalers to have names, because I enjoy the bit at the beginning where you can eavesdrop on them and some of them are concerned for you and some of them are fucked up about the Overseers invading their home and some of them want to fucking betray you. also, I didn’t realize that the very beginning when you fight Corvo is a dream sequence so I spent the whole fight being like “wait why does he get a gun and I don’t, where are my powers, wait aren’t I supposed to lose this fight for Plot Reasons why is he dead.” also, fucking love the favor that lets you dress up as an Overseer to get into the prison. I do love a good disguise mission

making: citrus chicken (from a cookbook so no link), plus some citrus-y root vegetables. very good if you like orange.

writing: nothing I can share yet for ~zine reasons. yes I have several fandom event weeks coming up that I want to participate in, no I haven’t written anything for any of them yet

[itsjackgilbert]

Situation Comedy

INSCRUTABLE MUSIC-VIDEO GENIUS MAKES MOVIE. IT'S VERY GOOD. INSCRUTABLE FILMMAKER DOES MAGAZINE INTERVIEW. IT'S VERY BIZARRE. A VERY SMALL GLIMPSE INTO THE INSULAR WORLD OF SPIKE JONZE, WHERE MAKING AWESOMELY STRANGE FILMS, WEARING FAKE PENISES, AND GETTING BEAT UP (SORT OF) ALL ARE PART OF THE SCENERY

BY ZEV BOROW

"He came to visit me once and when he first arrived I got a phone call that I had to come pick him up because his car had been impounded because he'd been chased by, like, ten cops on bikes after he drove his car onto these little fairgrounds and did a bunch of doughnuts. So, then I had to drive him around all weekend." — Three Kings director David O. Russell

"Actors are more consistent. They tend to land their tricks." — filmmaker Spike Jonze, on who is easier to direct, actors or skaters.

"He wanted his brother to be in Three Kings, so he shot an audition tape with his brother doing the Sharon Stone role in Basic Instinct, crossing and uncrossing his legs. It was the weirdest fucking thing I've ever seen." — David O. Russell

I meet Spike Jonze at the production offices of his new movie, Being John Malkovich, which is a bizarre comedy about a love triangle between three people who find a secret portal into John Malkovich's head behind a file cabinet in an office building where the ceilings are four feet high. John Cusack and Cameron Diaz and Catherine Keener are in it. So is John Malkovich. It's really good and weird and funny, though not always in that order. Spike Jonze directed it.

Jonze is 29 years old and sort of famous for directing some of the best music videos ever made: the Beastie Boys' "Sabotage"; Fatboy Slim's "Praise You"; Weezer's "Buddy Holly"; Björk's "It's Oh So Quiet"; and other really good ones, too. He's also made some excellent commercials and two interesting short films. However, mostly because of the exceedingly cool videos he's done for, mostly, exceedingly cool people, Jonze has also become famous for being exceedingly cool. A wide and deep selection of the hippest people alive dig Jonze. They are his friends. This past July Jonze married actress, filmmaker, and fellow sort-of-famous person Sofia Coppola. Tom Waits sang at their wedding. Tom fucking Waits.

Jonze is small and wiry, with the body and demeanor of a skateboarder, which he is. He is relaxed, unfailingly polite, and has a voice suggesting a 15-year-old boy. When we meet he is wearing a T-shirt and scuffed-up $350 Marc Jacobs shoes. He tells me he's supposed to meet with Knox, an as-yet-unknown guitar player, to discuss ideas for his video and invites me along. But first we go to buy a big bag of cat food for his cat.

Jonze says Knox plays "sort of country-funkabilly-Prince-like music...really beautiful stuff." A friend gave him a tape, he says, and he fell in love with it. We get lost trying to find Knox's house.

When we finally arrive, Knox says he was asleep because Jonze was supposed to arrive hours ago. Jonze says he's sorry, that it must have been his assistant's fault. Knox is tall, with short, dark hair styled vaguely pompadour-ish. His apartment is small. Neil Young in on the CD player. An acoustic guitar rests in the corner.

"I'm the only one in the band, so I do the whole gig," Knox says. "My old man was a guitarist and my mother was, like...well, she was a capable pianist, not great. I'm from Tenness–Knoxville–that's why I go by Knox. My mother ahd a baby two years before me, a little boy, and it died at birth, and I am, like, the copy of that kid. And my little brother almost died at birth 'cause of me, so it's kind of all cyclical. But I'm still tweaking it. So, uh, what kind of ideas do you have?"

Jonze talks about making a video that's not very commercial, about something that's cool in and of itself.

Knox: "I just don't want it to be cute. Don't take this as an affront, but some of your videos are...cute. The 'Buddy Holly' thing was little fucking cute. I was thinking more of an early John Cugar-type of thing. Like 'Jack and Diane.' Maybe with some of the words on the bottom of the screen."

Jonze: "Uh, cool.... But it’s also cool to do something maybe not as literal.” He asks Knox if he wants to be in the video. Knox says maybe just his face, as a child.

Jonze says he could come over with a video camera and they could try some stuff out.

Knox: “Like what?”

Jonze: “Well, I don’t want to just throw stuff out.”

Knox: “Well, I’m not going to steal your stuff.”

Jonze laughs, sort of. There is an awkward silence.

Jonze: “How about a video with Xeroxes, just as a cool medium?”

Knox: “Yeah, well, that sounds schticky. Xeroxes are schticky.”

Jonze tries to say something about form. Knox says he likes “the Jazzercize” video Jonze did.

Jonze: “‘Praise you.’ Cool.”

Knox turns toward me and says he doesn’t think Spike looks very into it. Jonze says he doesn’t want to do anything he’s done already. He asks Knox if he saw the video he did for Sean Lennon.

Knox: “Nah. That guy’s too fuckin’ avant garde for me.”

Jonze: “No, I’m not saying that. It’s just I don’t want to make something silly out of your song, but at the same time....” He trails off.

There’s a tense silence, then Knox turns to me and asks if I have any ideas for videos. I tell him I don’t. Knox says “fuck,” loudly.

Jonze: “Look, I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do, and if you don’t really like my stuff maybe we shouldn’t work together. I like working with people who are....”

Knox: “Yeah, well...fuck.... Well, if you come up with some ideas, any ideas, call, but I just...shit.”

Jonze: “I should go.”

Jonze gets up. Knox begins to pace. Then he screams, “Fuck!” and throws a small wooden chair Jonze had been sitting on against the wall. It shatters.

Jonze: “Dude, chill.”

Knox: “I think you better leave!”

Jonze: “I was just....”

Knox: “Just fucking leave!”

Then Knox pushes Jonze into a wall, hard. I think to myself: Spike Jonze is about to get his ass kicked. Then, like a panther (or jaguar), Jonze jumps at Knox. They hit the floor. Jonze is on top of Knox, throwing punches at his head. After about 15 seconds, I pull them apart. Knox gets up and screams, “Wait right fucking there!” and runs into a back room. Jonze looks at me and says, “Let’s get the fuck out of here!” and runs out the door, fast.

Knox jumps out from the back room, glowering and holding a baseball bat.

DRIVING AWAY, JONZE MUSES ABOUT HOW “HECTIC” things got with Knox. He repeatedly pushes his face toward the rearview mirror and asks if I think his eye looks swollen. It doesn’t. He says nothing like that has ever happened to him before, except once “with Everlast, but it never got physical.” We pull into a 7-Eleven and he gets a juice and some Advil.

I try to ask some more questions about the movie. “I’m apprehensive about talking about it at all,” he says, “because I feel like it’s going to cloud someone’s opinion. You think about all the movies you had preconceived notions about, about all the ones you read stuff about until you were sick of them before you even saw them.

SPIKE JONZE’S REAL NAME IS ADAM SPIEGEL. He isn’t interested in talking about why, or when, he started going by Spike Jonze, or how much it has to do with Spike Jones, the 1940s band leader, but it’s probably related to the fact he grew up hanging out with a lot of competitive BMX bikers similarly fond of pseudonyms and alter egos. He was raised in Bethesda, Maryland, a well-heeled suburb of Washington, D.C., where his mother enjoyed photography and his father enjoyed being the scion of an extremely successful family-owned catalog company. Jonze is the middle child (younger brother; older sister) and was into skateboarding, photography, lots of Dischord-era punk rock, and, most of all, BMX.

In the mid-’80s, BMXing’s popularity was exploding, and Jonze was spending much of his time at Rockville BMX, a legendary retail and mail-order BMX shop in nearby Rockville, Maryland. At age 15, he accompanied the Haro pro-BMX team on a summer tour of the U.S., serving as part-time roadie, contest announcer, T-shirt salesperson, and using an old 35-millimeter camera, team photographer. By the time he was 16, he was writing and taking pictures for skate and bike magazines. At 17, immediately after finishing high school, he moved to Torrance, California, to work at Freestylin’, the sport’s preeminent glossy. There, he met Mark Lewman and Andy Jenkins, two kindred spirits.

“We were all living together in this apartment across the street from the magazine’s offices, in the Valley, which was like the epicenter of the skateboarding and BMX world,” says Lewman, who was 18 at the time and is now a creative director at Lambesis, a San Diego–based advertising agency that deciphers youth culture. “We’d skate to work, ride ramps, listen to Black Flag and Eric B. and Rakim, and get into adventures drinking Night Train, being weird, and stomping around downtown L.A.”

They’d also make zines. First, in 1991, Homeboy, then, two years later, Dirt. Clever and funny, they became popular with the 25-and-under, proto-extreme-sport, punk/rap-inclined hipster set. During this time, Jonze also started getting hired to take photos for magazines such as Details and Interview. And he began filming skateboarding videos, including one particular deft collaboration with ‘80s skate god Mark Gonzales titled Blind Skateboard Video.

One night, backstage at a Sonic Youth concert, Gonzales gave a copy of that tape to his friend Kim Gordon, who dug it so much that she asked Tamra Davis–who had just directed her first film, Gun Crazy, and had yet to become the wife of Beastie Boy Mike D.–to work with Jonze on shooting some skateboarding segments for Sonic Youth’s video for the song “100%.” He was 21.

Jonze has always lived in something of a rarefied world inhabited by bikers, skaters, emerging rock icons, and movie stars. Even so, he notes, he first met the Beastie Boys through his sister. She and Adam Yauch met in traffic school. The Beasties and Jonze share an appreciation for the absurd. Yauch and Jonze used to do things like rent police uniforms so they could direct traffic in Manhattan.

A few short years after “100%,” Jonze was established as America’s preeminent director of unusual music videos. This fact seemed to bore him. In 1998′s Fatboy Slim “Praise You” video, the one with the dancers in front of Mann’s Chinese Theatre in Hollywood, Jonze credited the direction to Richard Koufey and the Torrance Community Dancers. To this day, Jonze denies having been a part of it. Earlier this year, a typed letter arrived at the Spin offices vehemently demanding Spin retract its report that Jonze directed the video. It was signed Richard Koufey and included a detailed résumé for Koufey that stated he was a dancer in the “Thriller” video, the “Love Shack” video, the film Dirty Dancing, and something called “Dancextravaganza” at the opening of a Dellamo Fashion Center.

IN ADDITION TO BEING JOHN MALKOVICH, Jonze has another movie coming out, one in which he acts. It’s called Three Kings and was written and directed by David O’Russell. The two met when Jonze hired Russell to help him write a script for Harold and the Purple Crayon, which was to be a partially animated adaption of the children’s book, and Jonze’s feature-film debut, but never made it into production. Jonze costars in Three Kings with George Clooney, Ice Cube, and Mark Wahlberg. They play four U.S. soldiers who try to steal a secret cache of Kuwaiti gold at the end of the Gulf War. It’s a different, very sharp war-genre picture. Jonze plays a redneck private who is the sidekick of Wahlberg’s more seasoned soldier.

“I’d never really acted before,” Jonze says. “A few little things with friends, but nothing serious. And it’s not like I really want to get into acting. But David was really into me doing it, and Mark was especially supportive. In some ways I feel like I had no right to do it. But it was a lot of fun.”

Russell recalls Jonze’s commitment to the project. “He stayed in character a lot on set, and I think he eventually regretted it because Mark started beating the shit out of him as if Spike was really his tagalong sidekick. We tried telling Mark to go easy on him, but he was in character too. I think Spike was upset that that was happening.

AMONG THOSE IMMERSED IN THE CULT of Spike Jonze, the Weird Al prank is infamous. As partially recounted in an issue of the Beastie Boys’ zine, Grand Royal, Mike D. and Russell Simins, the drummer for Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, interviewed by Weird Al. During the interview, they got the conversation to come around to the Beatles. Precisely at that moment, they had Sean Lennon and Yoko Ono walk by and staged something weird and funny. No one at Grand Royal can remember exactly what happened, but it included Spike Jonze dressed up as a waiter.

I didn’t know of the Weird Al prank until weeks after meeting Jonze. As such, I spent a good portion of my evening immediately following the Knox vs. Jonze incident breathlessly telling friends all about their fight, until a friend, a longtime skater, looked at me and matter-of-factly said: “He staged it.”

Two days after the fight I go to meet Jonze for lunch, and, even though I’m not sure, I tell him I now that the afternoon with Knox was staged. Jonze demurs. “That would be gnarly” he says. “Maybe we should come back to this topic after lunch.

We pull into a Carl’s Jr. Things between us are slightly tense. I keep pressing him on the issue as we walk into the restaurant. Jonze doesn’t say anything until he’s just about to order at the counter, then he says we should walk outside. I follow him into the parking lot toward a parked black sedan. There is a guy in dark sunglasses sitting there, sipping on a Coke.

“Dude, it’s off,” Jonze says. “We’re busted.”

Jonze then reveals that he’d “planned something” for right there, right then, at the Carl’s Jr. We all had back inside the restaurant, where Jonze begins walking around the seating area and tapping on what appear to be lonely Carl’s Jr. diners on the shoulder. There are four of them, strategically placed; two have video cameras hidden on them, on has a regular camera. Two of them, including the guy from the car, who is Jeff Tremaine, the art director of the skateboarding magazine Big Brother, are wearing hidden microphones.

“This was going to be an all-out assault,” Tremaine says. “I was going to walk by and bump into Spike and my drink was going to fall all over me. And then I was going to get all jacked at Spike and knock some shit on him and get into a fight.”

“I was actually going to take a punch this time,” Jonze says, “but I was also going to bite down on some blood pellets.” He shows me two small capsules of fake blood. “I wanted the whole article to be about how I keep getting my ass kicked.”

“I was going to knock over the salad bar,” Tremaine says. “We were going to have the whole thing on tape. I twas going to be a turkey shoot, like Kennedy.”

“You are all extremely fucked up,” I tell them.

Jonze says he started planning for it late last night and tells everyone he’s sorry he didn’t go through with it. Tremaine tells Jonze that he was excited to punch him. Then, everyone tells me some stories of previous pranks, the best of which is described as simply the Hard-On One. It goes something like this:

The guy who played Knox yesterday–a friend of Jonze’s who also pulls stunts like getting himself hit by a car (for a Big Brother photo shoot) and shooting himself with a gun while wearing a bulletproof vest (for fun)–puts on a pair of flimsy gym shorts, out of which sticks a large, fake rubber penis. Then, he goes out and gets into a pickup basketball game. Next, he walks into a guitar store, where, when a salesman hands him a cord to plug in, the salesman is pulled toward the fake rubber penis. After that, he makes a quick stop at a karate studio, from which he is quickly removed. Finally, he goes to get measured for a tux, where, according to Jonze, the tailor exclaims [in a thick Indian accent], “What? You always run around with your dick sticking out?”

“It’s amazing,” Jonze says. “We’ve got the whole thing on tape.”

After Carl’s Jr., Spike lobbies me to concoct a wild, made-up story with him, one I could submit in lieu of the article. He’s got some funny, clever ideas for it, too.

“SPIKE DIDN’T GROW UP WATCHING A TON OF FILMS or even TV,” says Kim Gordon, who has known Spike ever since he worked on “100%.” “So he’s not tied to any sense of history image-wise, the way most people are. He just has a real instinctual feel for what people like. And he’s willing to try absolutely anything.”

“I think he kind of looks at everything like it’s a chance to take a golf cart and make it go 60 miles per hour,” says his old friend Lewman. “It’s always been about having a really good time.” Even so, by all accounts Jonze is meticulous, tireless even, whether it concerns a feature film, or taking down a Carl’s Jr. salad bar. His willingness to go to almost any lengths to maintain the integrity of any project–no matter how seemingly small, trivial, or twisted–is nothing short of spectacular. It is probably the one quality that best portends him making very good movies for a long time. A vast portion of Jonze’s creative energies are consumed by these tiny, hysterical performances that will never make any money, that are solely for the benefit of himself and his like-minded friends.

“But it’s not about being weird for weird’s sake,” Lewman says. “I mean, Malkovich is a movie that, at its heart, is about something everyone can relate to–desperately wanting to be someone else.... I think a lot of how [Jonze] looks at the world might come from skating and biking. You do that as a kid and you don’t look at things normally. You look at a hockey rink and see a place to skateboard. You look at a bench as a thing to do tricks off of.”

I SEE JONZE ONE MORE TIME. HE MAKES IT OBVIOUS he’d rather I not write about the Knox and Carl’s Jr. pranks. Further, he mostly turns off my tape recorder any time I start to ask him anything. He tells me he doesn’t know what to do because he doesn’t want to come off as a guy who is lucky enough to make cool movies with big stars but is all petulant about talking to the press. He tells me again how anything he says as far as explanation of his own work is less interesting than someone’s own interpretation of his, or any, movie. About an hour passes. I ask him to name some of his favorite movies and filmmakers.

“I like stuff that is unpredictable in terms of tone,” he says. “I like Tim Burton, The World According to Garp, Being There, all the Coen brothers’ stuff. I feel really lucky to even have the opportunity to try to make those kinds of movies.”

I ask about his movie, about what Malkovich was like.

“He’s just amazing. Really genuinely eccentric. He heard about the script and contacted us, loved the idea. It was weird because he plays himself in the movie, but it’s not really him, it’s the script’s idea of him. Whenever I see him do the Dance of Despair and Disillusionment, I’m like, this guy is my hero.”

The Dance of Despair and Disillusionment is reason alone to see Being John Malkovich. In the movie, John Cusack plays a puppeteer who enters the body of John Malkovich and forces him to give up acting for puppeteering. At one point, Malkovich acts out the dance he wants to be his ultimate master-puppeteer work, the Dance of Despair and Disillusionment. Just out of the shower, he acts it out in a towel. David Fincher, the director of Seven and Fight Club, fellow former music-video director, and close friend of Jonze, calls it “up there with Butch and Sundance jumping off the cliff, as far as greatest movie moments ever go.”

I try to get Jonze to talk about other things, videos, his commercial work. (Jonze often shoots commercials, the most recent being Lee Jeans’ “Buddy Lee” spots.) He won’t. A few days later, we talk on the phone. He asks how I’ve decided to “handle” the article, says he knows I’ll write “something good.” The next day, I call him back, ask him to clear up some factual stuff, dates he worked on things, how he first met certain people. He’s not into it. But, before we get off the phone, he does answer one question.

Me: Where did the idea for the “Sabotage” video come from?

Jonze: “Australia.”

[hellomynameisbisexual]

I’d go so far as to say that the nomination probably saved the site, in fact. For those who need a little background: despite being a small voluntary project the site was nominated for the 2014 Publication of the Year award by Stonewall, the UK’s largest LGBT charity, just nine months after its inception. This was a landmark step in Stonewall’s positive new direction on bi issues. To the best of my knowledge, this was the first time Stonewall had specifically nominated a specifically bi publication or organisation for an award. At this point my co-founder, who was taking care of the business side of things, had recently jumped ship and I was seriously considering packing the whole thing in. I won’t lie, I was astonished to read the email.

I’d worked on a publication which won the award under my editorship a few years previously. Unlike Biscuit, however, g3 magazine – at the time one of the two leading print mags for lesbian and bi women in the UK – had an estimated readership of 140,000, had been going for eight years and boasted full-time paid office staff and regular paid freelancers. Biscuit, by contrast, was being dragged along by one weary unpaid editor and a bunch of unpaid writers who understandably, for the most part, couldn’t commit to regularly submitting work.

Little Biscuit’s enormous competition for the award consisted of Buzzfeed, Attitude.co.uk, iNewspaper and Property Week. We didn’t win – that accolade went to iNewspaper – but the nomination was nevertheless, as I say, a huge catalyst to continue with the site. I launched a crowdfunder, which finished way off target. I sold one ad space, for two months. Then nothing. I attempted in vain to recruit a sales manager but nobody wanted to work on commission. Some wonderful writers came and went. There were periods of tumbleweed when I frantically had to fill the site with my own writing, thereby completely defeating the object of providing a platform for a wide range of bi voices.

The Stonewall Award nomination persuaded me to keep going with the site

The departure of the webmaster was another blow. Thankfully by this point I had a co-editor on board – the amazing Libby – so I was persuaded to stick with it. And here we are now. I don’t actually know where the next article is coming from. That’s not a good feeling. But, apart from for Biscuit, I try not to write for free anymore myself, so I understand exactly why that is. As a freelance journo trying to make a living I’ve had to be strict with myself about that. I regularly post on the “Stop Working For Free” Facebook group and often feel a pang of misplaced guilt because I ask my writers to write for free, even though I’m working on the site for free myself, and losing valuable time I could be spending on looking for paid work.

Biscuit hasn’t exactly been a stranger to controversy, in addition to its financial and staffing issues. Its original tagline – “for girls who like girls and boys” – was considered cis-centric by some, leading to accusations that the site had some kind of trans/genderqueer*-phobic agenda. Which was amusing, as at the height of this a) we’d just had two articles about non-binary issues published and b) I was actually engaged to a genderqueer partner, a fact they were clearly unaware of. Now the site is under fire from various pansexual activists who object to the term “bisexual”. To clarify – “girl and boys” was supposed to imply a spectrum and, no, we don’t think “bi” applies only to an attraction to binary folk. The site aims the main part of its content at female-spectrum readers attracted to more than one gender because this group does have specific needs. But there is something here for EVERYONE bisexual. Anyway, it’s a shame all of this gossip was relayed secondhand, and the people in question didn’t think to confront me about it (which at least the pan activists have bothered to do). We damage our community immeasurably with these kinds of Chinese whispers.

Biscuit ed Libby, being amazing

Whilst trying to keep the site afloat, I’ve also been building on the work I started right back when I edited g3, and trying to improve bi visibility in other media outlets. I’ve recently had articles published by Cosmopolitan, SheWired, The F-Word, GayStar News and Women Make Waves and I’m constantly emailing other sites which I’ve not yet written for with bi pitches. Unfortunately, although I am over the moon to be writing for mainstream outlets such as Cosmo about bi issues, it’s been an uphill struggle trying to persuade some editors out there that they have more readers to whom bi-interest stories apply than they might think. It’s an incredibly exhausting and frustrating process.

Libby and I are doing our best with Biscuit. I can’t guarantee that I would be doing anything at all with it if Libby hadn’t arrived on the scene, so once again I would like to mention how fabulous she is. But we desperately need more writers. We need some help with site design and tech issues. We need a hand with the business and sales side of things. We can’t do it without you. And if you know any rich bisexual heiresses who read Biscuit, please do send them our way. 😉

Grant Denkinson’s story

denkinsonpanel

Grant speaks on a panel chaired by Biscuit’s Lottie at a Bi Visibility Day event

So first of all, explain a little about the activism you’re involved/have been involved in. 


“I’ve been involved with bisexual community organising for a bit over 20 years. Some has been within community: writing for and editing our national newsletter, organising events for bisexuals and helping others with their events by running workshop sessions or offering services such as 1st aid. I’ve spoken to the media about bisexuality and organised bi contingents at LGBT Pride events (sometimes just me in a bi T-shirt!). I’ve helped organise and participated in bi activist weekends and trainings. I’ve help train professionals about bisexuality. I’ve also piped up about bisexuality a lot when organising within wider LGBT and gender and sexuality and relationship diversity umbrellas. I’ve been a supportive bi person on-line and in person for other bi folks. I’ve been out and visibly bi for some time. I’ve helped fund bi activists to meet, publish and travel. I’ve funded advertising for bi events. I’ve set up companies and charities for or including bi people. I’ve personally supported other bi activists.”


What made you get involved?

“
In some ways I was looking for a way to be outside the norm and to make a difference and coming out as bi gave me something to push against. I’ve been less down on myself when feeling attacked. I’ve also found the bi community very welcoming and where I can be myself and so wanted to organise with friends and to give others a similar experience. There weren’t too many others already doing everything better than I could.”

How do you feel about the state of bi activism worldwide (esp UK and USA) at the moment?

“There have been great changes for same-sex attracted people legally and socially and these have happened quickly. Bi people have been involved with making that happen and benefit from it. We can also be hidden by gay advances or actively erased. We still have bi people not knowing many or any other local bi people, not seeing other bisexuals in the mainstream or LGT worlds and not knowing or being able to access community things with other bis. We are little represented in books or the media and people don’t know about the books and zines and magazines already available. The internet has made it easy to find like-minded people but also limited privacy and I think is really fragmented and siloed. It is hard to find bisexuals who aren’t women actors, harmful or fucked up men or women in pornography designed for straight men. We have persistent and high quality bi events but they are sparse and small.”

What’s causing you to feel disillusioned?

“I’m fed up of bi things just not happening if I don’t do them. Not everything should be in my style and voice and I shouldn’t be doing it all. I and other activists campaign for bi people to be more OK and don’t take care of ourselves enough while doing so. People are so convinced we don’t exist they don’t bother with a simple search that would find us. We have little resources while having some of the worst outcomes of any group. I don’t want to spend my entire life being the one person who reminds people about bisexuals, including our so-called allies. I’m not impressed with the problem resolution skills in our communities and while we talk about being welcoming I’m not sure we’re very effective at it. I’m fed up with mouthing the very basics and never getting into depth about bi lives and being one who supports but who is not supported. I’m all for lowering barriers but at a certain point if people don’t actively want to do bi community volunteering it won’t happen. Some people are great critics but build little.”

What do you want to say to other activists about this?

“Why are we doing this personally? I’m not sure we know. How long will we hope rather than do? Honestly, are there so few who care? Alternatively should we stop the trying to do bi stuff and either do some self-analysis, be happy to accept being what we are now as a community, chill out and just let stuff happen or give up and go and do something else instead.”

Patrick Richards-Fink’s story

085d4de So first of all, explain a little about the activism you’re involved/have been involved in.

“Mostly internet – I am a Label Warrior, a theorist and educator. Here’s how I described it on my blog: “One of the reasons that I am a bisexual activist rather than a more general queer activist is because I see every day people just like me being told they don’t belong. It doesn’t mean I don’t work on the basic issues that we all struggle against — homophobia, heterosexism, classism, out-of-control oligarchy, racism, misogyny, this list in in no particular order and is by no means comprehensive. But I have found that I can be most effective if I focus, work towards understanding the deep issues that drive the problems that affect people who identify the same way that I have ever since I started to understand who I am. I find that I’m not a community organizer type of activist or a storm the capitol with a petition in one hand and a bullhorn in the other activist — I’m much better at poring over studies and writing long wall-o’-text articles and occasionally presenting what I’ve gleaned to groups of students until my voice is so hoarse that I can barely do more than croak.” So internet, and when I was still in school, a lot of on-campus stuff. Now I’m moving into a new phase where my activism is more subtle – I’m working as a therapist, and so my social justice lens informs my treatment, especially of bi and trans people.”

What made you get involved?

“I can’t not be.”

How do you feel about the state of bi activism worldwide (esp UK and USA) at the moment?

“I feel like we made a couple strides, and every time that happens the attacks renewed. I hionestly think the constant attempts to divide the bisexual community into ‘good pansexuals’ and ‘bad bisexuals’ and ‘holy no-labels’ is the thing that’s most likely to screw us.”

What’s causing you to feel disillusioned?



“It is literally everywhere I turn – colleges redefining bisexuality on their LGBT Center pages, news articles quoting how ‘Bi=2 and pan=all therefore pan=better’, everybloodywhere I turn I see it every day. The word bi is being taken out of the names of organisations now, by the next group of up-and-comers who haven’t bothered to learn their history and understand that if you erase our past, you take away our present. Celebrities come out as No Label, wtf is that. Don’t they make kids read 1984 anymore? It’s gotten to the point now that even seeing the word pansexual in print triggers me. I’m reaching the point now that if someone really wants to be offended when all I am trying to do is welcome them on board, then I don’t have time for it.”

What do you want to say to other activists about this?

“Stay strong, and don’t give them a goddamned inch. I honestly think that the bi organizations – even, truth be told, the one I am with – are enabling this level of bullshit by attempting to be conciliatory, saying things that end up reinforcing the idea that bi and pan are separate communities. We try to be too careful not to offend anyone. Like the thing about Freddie Mercury. Gay people say ‘He was gay.’ Bi people say ‘Um, begging your pardon, good sirs and madams and gentlefolk of other genders, but Freddie was bi.’ And they respond ‘DON’T GIVE HIM A LABEL HE DIDN’T CLAIM WAAHHH WAAHHH!’ And yet… Freddie Mercury never used the label ‘gay’, but it’s OK when they do it. And he WAS bisexual by any measure you want to use. But we back down. And 2.5% of the bisexual population decides pansexual is a better word, and instead of educating them, we add ‘pan’ to our organisation names and descriptions. Now, this is clearly a dissenting view – I will always be part of a united front where my organization is concerned. But everyone knows how I feel, and I think it’s totally valid to be loyal and in dissent at the same time. Not exactly a typically American viewpoint, but everyone says I’d be a lot more at home in Britain than I am here anyway.”

[leopah]

Tempo

This was my fic for the @kageyamazine “Prodigy”! Please consider checking out the zine; it’s full of so many wonderful works.

Read: AO3

“Hey, left, left!” Smack.

“Chance ball!”

The sun was already sinking low in the sky and the autumn evening chill was setting in, but inside the Karasuno gym, the boys’ volleyball team was still practicing. Despite their muscles growing tired and the constant wiping of sweat from their faces, they kept grinning as the ball flew back and forth across the net. Every few seconds, the idyllic atmosphere was punctured by the sound of a volleyball hitting skin or a hardwood floor, the squeak of shoes as they dodged to the side, or the sharp noise of a whistle.

They were playing three on three—a third year with two first years on each. The other teams had already finished their matches and were observing the final round with interest.

Tobio was facing off against Hinata, Suga, and Yamaguchi, with Tsukishima and Asahi at his back. He stepped confidently into place, feeling a rhythm to each step as he set the ball exactly right for each of them. This was what he was born to do, and he could do it forever.

The ball came sailing back. Tsukishima received it and Tobio set it for Asahi to spike right through the blockers, scoring them the winning point.

The final whistle blew and Daichi picked up the errant ball from outside the court.

“Great work today, everyone,” said Coach Ukai, standing up and clapping his hands. “The teamwork is really getting there, and I think we’ll crush it during the spring tournament.”

The words “spring tournament” sent a shiver down the whole team’s spine. Tobio was no exception; in fact, the words stung him even more than they did to the rest. He’d failed to prove himself against Oikawa last time. Would he miss the mark again?

“Before we wrap up for the day, though,” said Ukai. He was now staring directly at Tobio, who snapped back to attention. “Can anyone tell me what Kageyama did wrong in that last match?”

Hinata’s hand shot up immediately. “He was being a control freak.”

Tobio bristled, but Hinata continued, ignoring him. “He kept tossing Tsukishima and Asahi what he wanted instead of what they wanted.”

The words hurt even more than the reminder of his failure, so much so that he stared at Hinata with his mouth open, trying to think of a comeback.

Of course I took charge. I’m the setter. It’s what I do. The setter was the most important player on the whole team, no doubt about it. He analyzed the opponent’s weaknesses—in addition to his team’s condition—and adjusted his play accordingly. That was how he had always done things.

Oikawa’s remark about not even trying to think of the tosses his teammates wanted rang through Tobio’s head again. Certainly, he was trying to be more accommodating now, but every toss that went up was still by his design.

No comeback came, so he shut his mouth and shot Hinata a glare that ranked seven out of ten on the ‘mean look’ scale. Hinata responded by folding his arms and sticking his tongue out.

“That’s correct,” said Ukai, glancing between them. “I wanted to see if you’d remember on your own, Kageyama, but it kept happening. Those tosses you’ve been working on are coming along great, but you need to work more closely with your teammates.”

Tobio bowed his head, cheeks burning with shame. He wouldn’t forget again. “Right!”

Ukai continued discussing the other players’ performances in that last match, but Tobio tuned it out, flexing his fingers. Already he was itching to get back on the court and drill the new tosses until they became another lethal skill in his arsenal. Why did he have to go last?

Ukai passed it off to Daichi, who seemed to sense Tobio’s unease.

“I don’t have much to say, except that you did great today, and have a good weekend. I want you all to get some time to relax. Don’t burn yourselves out.” He leveled a stern glare at Hinata first, and then at Tobio. “...And we’ll beat Aoba Johsai in the spring tournament. Then Shiratorizawa. Then we conquer nationals. Yeah?”

“Yeah!” the team roared back.

Tobio was one of the last ones out of the gym, glancing wistfully at the polished floor. Two more days to survive without a proper volleyball court to play on, and then all day at school on Monday...perhaps he would come in on Monday morning just to have some time to think. He thought best on the court—everything happening in the blink of an eye but in slow motion too, his entire body in sync and moving with purpose as he determined the perfect tosses—Right. Focus. Be a team player.

The Karasuno team split up. Hinata charged away into the dusk, the ball of adrenaline that he was. The other boys headed their separate ways in their usual small groups, their minds already drifting to dinner and weekend plans. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi walked off, headphones on and phones out, Tanaka and Nishinoya were already plotting how they would get Kiyoko to notice them during Monday’s practice, Suga whistled a chipper tune, and Daichi and Asahi discussed their classwork. Tobio stayed behind.

In some ways, he wished he could be like them, but another part of him felt almost sick at the thought. Volleyball was who he was. Perhaps it was all he was.

He sank onto a bench and pulled out his phone. He stared idly at the home screen for a minute or so before a text came in from Hinata. He was asking if Kageyama had perhaps seen his wallet because he might have dropped it in the gym and he knew Kageyama hadn’t left yet and he really needed it to buy snacks. Please?

Tobio rolled his eyes but turned on his phone light, checking around the gym. He spotted the wallet a moment later, discarded by the steps. It was a garish green thing with a cartoon character sticker on it. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes again, Tobio pocketed it and waited for Hinata to come rushing back. He never seemed to move anywhere slowly, but if Tobio was being honest he admired his teammate’s quick thinking. Even though he’d never admit it.

He texted Hinata that he’d found the wallet, and went back to the bench, wishing he’d brought a ball with him to set against the gym wall and get some sort of rhythm going.

What would happen if he failed to refine his tosses and become a true team player? The scenarios were at the very least intriguing to consider.

The team’s rhythm would probably stay stuck at just slightly off, they’d lose to Oikawa again, and the blame would fall on his shoulders though no one would admit it (except maybe Hinata, after the fact). The downside of being the one in charge of the court.

Tobio thought back to their earlier game with a pang. What Sugawara lacked in being the same prodigious talent he was, he made up for in sheer experience. He’d been able to figure out the tosses Hinata needed right away and click instantly into place with him. He kept a calm head no matter how tough things got, and always got along with everyone. And he was a setter too. So why couldn’t Tobio get along with others?

Again he thought about what life would be like if volleyball was merely a hobby for him, a fun after-school club like it was for some of the others. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel like every match was life or death. Maybe then he’d feel more at ease with the rest of the team. His team.

Still, Hinata was as obsessed with volleyball as he was, yet he’d clicked with the team just fine. He was able to breeze from one thing to the next with equal passion. Tobio thought of their match earlier, how that manic grin had never left Hinata’s face despite working with a different setter than he was used to. True, he couldn’t pull off the same crazy quick attack, but he’d done his best anyway and high-fived Suga at the end. He’d taken everything in stride.

As it stood, Tobio’s options were to merge with the team, becoming a better leader but facing the possibility of losing himself in the process, or sticking to his pride and dragging everyone else down with him.

Neither would do. Perhaps there was a way he could become more like Oikawa, a talented player who led his team without bending them to his will.

Then again, what was right for one team might not be right for another. But he could worry about that later. For now, he just needed to get his tosses exactly right so they could show Aoba Johsai, and Shiratorizawa in the future, that Karasuno was a force to be reckoned with. The fallen crows would fly again, and they would go to the Nationals this year. He was sure of it.

Feeling renewed and finally ready to head home for the weekend, Tobio stood up. He hardly made it three steps before Hinata practically barreled headfirst into him.

“Watch where you’re going, dumbass!” he snarled, grabbing his teammate’s shoulder before they collided.

“I came to get my wallet!” Hinata said. “Where is it?”

Ah. He’d almost forgotten. “It’s in my pocket. Was the 500 yen in it worth it to run all the way back here?”

“Hey, claws off! The money’s mine!”

“I didn’t take anything. Not that there was much in there to begin with,” Tobio muttered, pulling it out of his pocket. “Here you go. Don’t lose it again.”

Hinata beamed. “Thanks, Kageyama! Hey, are you heading home now?”

“Why?”

“I was thinking of grabbing a curry bun from Ukai’s shop. Want to come with?”

Tobio shivered slightly in the evening chill. “Well, it is a good day for one.”

“A good day for two! They look lonely if there’s just one, so I always grab two.”

Tobio squinted at Hinata, trying to see if he was joking. But as with everything else, he was completely sincere. Being honest to a fault was something they had in common.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll go,” he relented.

It was good to have this moment with someone else on the team, though it wasn’t exactly peaceful. Hinata chattered his ear off with stories about everything and nothing, never minding that Tobio didn’t say anything in return. He was grateful he didn’t need to, since if a conversation wasn’t about volleyball, it wasn’t very interesting to him.

Even if he failed to completely connect with the rest of Karasuno despite his ongoing efforts, it was a relief to know there was at least one person he could count on.

[baileydremel]

THE ADVENTURE SERIES: ZINE MACHINE

What if there was a machine that would create a randomly generated 16 page A6 zine that is completely unique. Hmm

In a previous practical class we got feedback on our spreads, so I decided to work on finalising my zine before sending it off for submission.

I looked back on the slides and saw a comment from a fellow student about my spreads. I was really pleased to see some nice feedback from another student and it really pushed me in the right direction with my zine.

Fig 1. The comment I had received. Thx. Also enjoy my crudly scribble over the name.

I worked on my zine over the weekend so that I had finished it before the due date because I have been burned before with submitting assignments at the last minute and technology simply and logically saying ‘no’.

With all the feedback I was given, I now have a near finished zine. Here it is!

Fig 2. My near finished zine. 

I first took all the feedback I was given and made adjustments as such. I reduced the tint for some of the images, lined up everything to a central line and make the type on pages 8 and 9 more free flowing. That was the feedback section done and dusted.

There’s a story to how this ended up like this.

First, lets talk about page 12 (third row fourth image). Inside the number 4 (yes, that is the number 4), I added some notable images that had used Futura such as Barbara Kruger and Ford. This was a bit of a pain to make at the start but ended up working very well. It cost me though...

Secondly lets talk about the references. I initially was just going to have a single reference page where I could put all of my references down that I used for my research and my images. That’s what I would normally do, but little did I know that I had about 2 references for my research and about 16 REFERENCES FOR IMAGES, HALF OF THEM ON A SINGLE PAGE (page 12). I ended up changing how I was going to do my image references and I just put them at the bottom of each page that had images in it (in footnotes). Some pages, such as 8 and 9, would have their reference on the next pages as I got all the images from the same source. For page 12, I just said to refer to page 15 for reference as half the page would just be the references to the images.

I still need to make some adjustments, but they are not critical and are just decorative choices. The red tint is still strong on some of the images and somethings could be cleaned up.

Also, while looking through the zine after showing it to a group I am a part of and I saw something on page 12.

Fig 3. Page 12 in my zine.

Can you see it?

It struck me as soon as I looked at it.

The rectangle from page 13 erupted out the side of this page. ARGH! That was the first thing I had changed when I saw it because I am a perfectionist and that was interrupting my flow.

To top this post of, I will talk about the final page, or the back cover of the zine.

Fig 4. The back cover of the zine.

I realised that I hadn’t really showcase Paul Renners typeface fully (as in all the characters and symbols). I chose for my back cover, to showcase that by integrating his typeface into the letter F of his typeface. It turned out really well and I like how it looks. The final thing to note is my name. At the end of every publication or thing I make, I have a little signature that I like to add to it. It is made out of my own handwriting and is like a stamp of approval to me. I only add it to stuff I am proud of and I was very proud of this zine. 

This was an absolutely fantastic project as I needed an excuse to make a zine and this was the perfect time to make it. It would have been fantastic to actually print it out (on good, high quality paper) and share it with my peers. It really opened my eyes to what I would need to consider when making a zine and really helped me master InDesign. 

It really makes me miss the trips to Sticky Institute to get zines and talk with my friends about our projects. I miss that. I miss not having the time on the train where I can just listen to my music and read a zine. I miss that too. I miss everything about the Uni experience. I am glad I stuck through this transition and I am happy I got something out of it. I hope things go back to normal soon.

;(

Ps. I noticed the Ask Me anything project hashtag I’ve been using also looks like ask meany thing project. Huh.

[tarotdeckshuffle]

Can I request a nsfw Ignis x reader? S/o is wearing leggings and Ignis can’t keep his eyes off her curves and booty and he can’t keep his hands to himself which leads to S/o becoming pregnant (I love me some Daddy!Ignis 😏) Btw I also love your blog! I’m happy I came across it ❤️

So I made this one a bit shorter (about 1200 words) not because of the prompt, but because I need practice with brevity. All of the zines have low word limits so I need to learn to work with that. And then a thunderstorm moved in while I was writing this, so I rushed to finish it before I lost internet. 

It’s a quick read but I hope you like it! ❤

Taglist: @idiotflowerex, @laststory1013, @sayaoqueen, @jophinabean, @mysme-already

If you like what you read, please consider supporting me on Patreon or buying me a Ko-fi!

Leggings and Life

You’re life was always so hectic that there were only two things you could count on keeping up with you: your utterly incredible S/O Ignis and leggings. The first was a man sculpted by the gods themselves. He had a mind that could rival any great thinker, culinary ingenuity, a downright spectacular body, and a touch that could make you melt. 

And the latter were the only clothes that looked nice, moved with you, and made you feel nice. Leggings were amazing! You could work out in them but they were soft enough that you could relax in them. Put a blazer with the right pair and you looked fit to run the room! And today, they had to do all three. 

From working out, to emergencies at work, you hadn’t gotten time to change all day. Now, you were relaxing in a few minutes of silence.

You were in the kitchen. Ignis was running late so you thought you’d at least start dinner for him. You were bent over, looking for something in the fridge when you heard the door close. 

“I’m….” Ignis stood in then entry, shocked. When he finally found his voice, all he could think to say was, “Wow.” 

You made your way over to him to welcome him home. His fastened gaze didn’t escape you. His eyes were fixated on your hips and your every step. He looked tired, even slightly disheveled. 

You were inches from him when you whispered, “Welcome home, darling. How was your day?” A smirk creeped over your face as he still stared at you. 

He dropped everything to the ground so that he could touch the beauty before him. His hands trailed up and down your hips, taking the time to scratch the fabric of your leggings. With sudden force, he pulled your hips against him and captured your lips in a heated kiss. 

His mouth was hard against yours. In moments, his tongue was inside your mouth. Your head felt dizzy and you felt yourself loose grip on your body. Every little sound he made told you how much he wanted you. 

You were so caught up in the whirlwind of passion that the parting of your lips felt unnatural. “Far duller than my evening is going to be,” he whispered into your needing lips. His hands were around the curves of your ass as he pulled you closer and kissed you again. 

“Should we take this elsewhere,” you asked, breathless. He smiled into your lips. 

“Only if you lead.” 

With a playful smile you took his hand and lead him to the other side of your flat. From this distance, he could admire your smile, your eyes, your curves, and most importantly, your perfect ass. 

It didn’t take long before you were entwined in each other’s arms again. 

“I want to rip these off of you,” he growled, pinching your ass again. 

You pulled away to give him a playfully annoyed look. “Not this pair, you don’t!” He sighed in defeat. But soon you were on his soft lips with a promise: “Maybe some of my weekend ones.” 

Soon your clothes were scattered around the room from your whirlwind romance. Ignis’s shirt had gone first, your quick hands needing to feel his skin under yours. Next had been your shirt as Ignis was desperate to have your skin touch. In the same breath, your bra had vanished from your body and his hands teased at your breasts. His pants were undone but you weren’t able to finish your work, as he set about peeling away your leggings at an agonizing pace. 

Now, all of your clothes had been discarded. He cupped your ass and lifted you onto his hips, before throwing you onto the bed. 

He pinned you down, his hungry eyes taking you in. His lips met yours, hot, hungry for more, before soon parting to kiss down your jaw and to your neck. His teeth grazed the tender skin there, trailing down to your collarbone. His path led him to your breasts where he let his tongue dance on your nipples. Finally, his wandering mouth reached your core. He teased you by biting your thighs before even he couldn’t resist anymore. He plunged in, his tongue swirling around your clit. His soft moans harmonized with your cries of pleasure. He let his lips and tongue dance with heavy steps in all of the right places making you overflow with pleasure. He wiped his mouth as he came up, smiling at his breathless love below. 

You weren’t allowed time to orientate yourself, though. He plunged his length inside you, shocking you back into reality, before slowing pulling back. Everything began in a teasing fashion. You finally had to beg for more, to which he gladly obliged. 

He sat up and set your legs over his shoulders. The pace was brutal and he kept it up for longer than you thought possible. His hard cock filled you, thrumming against every nerve. You lost yourself in the sea of pleasure he gave you. 

It was weeks later. Work had been awful because you hadn’t felt well. You kept trying to figure out where you would have caught a cold when a terrifying thought stole your heart: could you be pregnant?  

It took all your nerve just to buy the pregnancy test and use it. That test could change your life. It took you hours before you quit treating it like a cursed object and used it. 

Ignis had been out of town for a week. He came home late to find you waiting for him on the sofa, lit by a single lamp. You were still in your work clothes and you wore a vacant expression. 

“What’s wrong, love?” He feared something horrible had happened and was at your side instantly. 

You took a deep breath and handed him the test. You focused your gaze on the cushion next to you, unable to meet his eyes. 

You couldn’t imagine what he would do, what he would say. Would he be angry? Sad? He’d likely be just as confused as you. Maybe he’d get up and storm out the front door. If he did that, would you ever see him again? Tears were welling in your eyes from the horrible possibilities. 

But you never imagined this. 

He began to laugh. In shock, you forgot your fear and turned to him. His glasses were pushed up and a hand covered his eyes. 

“Honey?” Your voice was quiet as you tried to get his attention. 

His laugh turned into a deep breath. The hand over his eyes moved, revealing tears. 

The two of you stared at each other for a long moment before he uttered the first word: “Wow.” 

That single word, this mixed reaction. You couldn’t take it. 

“Wow? That’s all you have to say? Ignis, I’m pregnant. This is…this is…”

“Great news,” he said, laying his cool hands on your cheeks to calm you. “We’re going to get through this.” 

“How?” He gave you confidence, but you truly hoped he had a plan. You needed him to put you at ease right now. 

He pulled you into his chest and held you tightly. 

“By figuring out how to be parents, I suppose.” 

Bonus Dialogue:

Ignis: At least your favorite article of clothing is part of the maternity line.

[strife-and-discord]

Can’t You See!

Read on AO3 here

Characters: Natsuo Todoroki, Enji Todoroki, Poor random office lady

Summary: Every year the number one hero is required to hold the annual Pro Heroes Gala. For the first time, this means Endeavour and he would like to have all his children there for the event, however, he's having a little trouble getting in contact with Natsuo. Oh well, surely he won't mind if Endeavour drops in on him while he's at college, right?

A/N: Okay, I'm gonna start with the nasty business by saying: THIS STORY IS BY NO MEANS AN ENDEAVOUR REDEMPTION and I don't think Endeavour particularly deserves to be forgiven. However, I don't think it's a bad thing that he's trying to be a better person, we should all try to be better people, and what this story is trying to show a bit is how Endeavour's efforts to be a better hero look from the outside. If you try to start discourse here I will delete your comments.

Oof, now that's over: I have been on such a Natsuo kick lately and I've been struggling on a zine piece so I decided to write this. I'm really in love with the quirkless Natsuo theory because I feel like it would round out the Todoroki family and make Natsuo's character more interesting.

I am a high school student in Australia and I know jack shit about college in Japan so don't @ about the absolutely false details in this fic alright.

Small and sleep deprived college students scatter as the hulking Flame Hero Endeavour storms his way up the path to the college’s main entrance, not even looking back at the wreckage he left behind him. The toppled students gaze up at him in awe, wondering what the de facto number one hero could possibly be doing at their school. Endeavour wasn’t really the sort of hero you invited to do education speeches and certainly not inspirational speeches, so most figured he must be here to arrest someone. Although it’d have to be pretty damn serious for to turn up.

There is no doubt that Endeavour is a man on a mission as he continues to stride straight through the doors of the college, only deigning to put out his flames right as he enters. Still, that was more than he usually did. At the slam of the door, the tired office lady looks up to see who could possibly be causing such a ruckus, only just managing to pull back before she scolds the number one hero for slamming doors.

Snapping her mouth shut she tries to pull herself together enough to go through the usual motions. Although she can’t quite keep herself from staring at him wide-eyed. She may not be a huge Endeavour fan, but it’s not like you get such a high ranking hero visiting you every day. And seeing that nasty scar of his up close in person…

She jostles herself. Now is not the time to be thinking about such things.

“Uh… How can I help you today, sir?” She winces at the way she fumbles the start

The way the huge man looks down at her, she can’t help but feel a bit like an ant in his path. Although she can’t help but notice that The Flaming hero doesn’t look as angry as she has him on telly before. She had heard rumours of Endeavour supposedly acting softer than he had as number two, could they actually be true?

“I am here to see my son who attends here,” The man booms just a little too loudly, “Can you tell me where I can find him?”

The office lady goes back to gaping at him. She’s fairly sure it would be well known among the staff if Endeavour's son was attending. If only because the big bosses would be all over the famous hero’s wallet. And she thought his kid was in UA? Did he have other children? She still checks the database for any Todorokis but unsurprisingly comes up empty.

“I’m s-sorry sir but we don’t have anyone by the name Todoroki here, are you sure you have the right college?” It isn’t easy asking arguably the most aggressive pro hero if he’s made a mistake.

A very large, fist slams down on the desk and she flinches back comically before it slowly retracts.

“I’m sorry, that was unnecessary. I’m sure this is the school my son attends, his name is Todoroki Natsuo can you please check again.”

The office lady is still certain that there are no Todorokis here but the name Natsuo does ring a bell, and she’s starting to get an inkling as to what may be going on here. She searches the database again but with the name Natsuo and successfully gets a hit this time. Now… How to break the news to Endeavour.

“We still don’t have any Todorokis enrolled but we do have a Nanase Natsuo.”

Endeavour’s face changes as soon as she says it, she’s not sure how to describe how he looks but sombre may be a good place to start. Then, he says quietly then she’s ever heard him before, “Yes… That will be him.” He pauses for a slightly awkward moment. “Nanase was his mother’s maiden name.”

There is obviously something deeper there but she is definitely not going to pry. She had heard the rumours.

“Ahem, uhh…” she clears her throat awkwardly and looks back down at her computer, “Well, in that case, Natsuo should be doing a peer-assisted study session right now in Rec room one.”

It occurs to her that considering this is Endeavour’s first time here, he probably has no idea where that is. She reaches under the table and pulls out one of the maps kept there for new students and guests.

She opens the map up to Endeavour, “You just need to go straight from here, take a left, follow this path until you see the door that says Recreational Room One and he should be in there,” she traces the path for him from the office on the map.

Endeavour nods along at the instructions before looking at her, “Thank you, I appreciate your help greatly. I’ll be on my way now.” And with that, he heads to the door.

“Good luck!” The office lady calls out to his retreating form. She sits for a moment in an attempt to try and process what had just happened and only realises after he is long gone that she forgot to have him sign in as a guest. Oh well, He’s the number one hero, what’s the worst that could possibly happen?

_______________

Natsuo’s struggling to concentrate today. There are a few more people than usual and he keeps getting distracted by various conversations. Nonetheless, if he wants to spend more time hanging out with Shouto on weekends, he actually has to finish his work in a timely manner for once. The old man hasn’t been doing anything to stop them from seeing each other so Natsuo’s taking full advantage of it to better get to know his little brother. It’s a bit of a new experience, seeing as he’d really only ever been a younger brother to Touya. But Touya isn’t around to be a big brother anymore and Natsuo has been neglectful enough to Shouto as it is.

Natsuo politely tells the others that he needs to stop talking to them if he wants to get this work done before putting his head back down to the book in front of him. He probably manages to get a solid half hour of work done before there’s an aggressively loud knock at the door that completely startles him out of his zone. Is there an emergency or something? Who on earth could feel the need to knock like that?

Everyone else seems to think the same thing as they all look at the door with expectation as an older student pushes himself towards the door with a sigh. For some reason, Natsuo can’t help but feel a vague sense of impending doom.

The reason for that is very clear when the door opens to reveal his… dad. It feels weird to even think of him like that, but it feels weird to call him Enji as well? Regardless of what Natsuo should call him, what the hell was he doing here!? He’d never shown any interest in Natsuo’s education before, or Natsuo in general, but it seemed unlikely that there would be some sort of villainous issue coincidentally in the same room that Natsuo’s currently in.

There’s a crushingly awkward silence as everyone in the room tries to process the presence of the number one hero, and Natsuo tries to sink down in his chair enough to be unnoticeable. Something that is hard to do when you have a similar build to freakin’ Endeavour.

The student at the door finally seems to accept the hulking figure in front of him and comes back to himself, “Uhh… hello Mr Endeavour, sir…” He does nothing to hide his disbelief.

However, disbelief has always done nothing but fuel Endeavour more. “I am here to talk to my son if that’s alright. I was told he might be here.” Natsuo sinks further into his chair.

He’d heard from Fuyumi that the old man had been trying to contact him lately, which of course Natsuo has him blocked in every way possible, but he never thought he’d do something as outright ridiculous as hunting him down at school.

One positive, at least, is that Enji is so used to saying “my son” and having people automatically know he means Shouto, that he doesn’t even think to refer to Natsuo by name, so there’s still a chance Natsuo could avoid this confrontation.

‘I... uhh… Are you… sure you hav-” Endeavour cuts in before the poor guy can even finish, “His name is Natsuo, you may know him by Nanase.” Shit. He must’ve figured it out at the front office. Of course, pretty much every kid in here knows him, and of course, as soon as the name’s out every head in the room swivels toward him like a herd of meerkats on the nature channel. Even Endeavour is looking over at him now, following everyone’s gazes, and Natsuo lets himself sigh in defeat. If this is how it’s all going to end for him, he’d like to make one final stand.

Natsuo rises from his chair, head held high, and marches towards his father with as much pride and intimidation as he can muster at this point. He can feel every eye in the room on him as he makes his way on what feels like a dramatic quest at this point. He sets his face in a glare aimed towards his father and as he reaches him he puts his hands out towards him and shoves with all his might.

“Let’s take this outside,” he commands. In the back of his mind, he thinks that this must be what Shouto means when he talks about going plus ultra.

To Natsuo’s surprise, and probably to Enji’s as well, He actually manages to move him. Endeavour stumbles backwards out the door and for a moment Natsuo worries he’s pushed too hard and he’s gonna be attacked for shoving the number one hero to the ground but thankfully he manages to hold his ground.

Natsuo shuts the door behind him and does his best to face his father expectantly while he regains his footing. It doesn’t take long for Endeavour to be back at his full height and staring Natsuo down. Suddenly, the plus ultra moment is gone and he feels like a little kid vying for his father’s attention again. But that doesn’t mean he can back down yet.

“What the actual hell are you doing here!?” Natsuo demands.

Enji just looks at him in a pondering manor before completely ignoring his question, “You’re going by your mother’s name?” The way he asks it makes Natsuo feel like it’s a question.

“Yes. I am. And you just exposed me to that entire room! Back to my question, why are you here?”

Enji at least seems willing to let the topic go for now, although Natsuo can tell this won’t be the end of that particular of discussion.

“As you are most likely aware, the number one hero is required to arrange and host the annual pro hero gala. Your sister and I have been working together to arrange this year’s and it would mean a lot to me to have all my children there. I came here to deliver your invitation personally”

Natsuo just stares at his father blank-faced. Having all of them at a gala like that would absolutely mean that Enji would have to officially present him and Fuyumi to the other heroes and the media. He would have to acknowledge their existence. And the fact that he came personally to his college just to give him the invitation makes it seem like he’s actually pretty serious about this.

“Why on earth do you think I would agree to that?”

“I understand that you won’t come for my sake so at the very least I ask that you come for your sister’s. She worked very hard on this and it would mean a lot to her for her siblings to see it and be there with her.”

Damn. That was a pretty good reason. And it’s exactly the sort of thing Fuyumi would actually say to him so either Enji’s gotten to know her really well in the span of a few weeks or she actually said that to him. He’s certain Fuyumi will go to the party meaning she’ll probably be able to convince Shouto to go as well. Also meaning that it would be a dick move for Natsuo to just abandon them there.

Natsuo can feel the fight draining out of him. He promised he was going to be a better brother from now on and that he wouldn’t run away when his siblings needed him. God knows he did more than enough of that as a child and if he hadn’t maybe Shouto would smile more today. Maybe they’d still have Touya.

“Fine… I’ll go. Hand me the invite,” Natsuo holds his hand out.

Enji holds out a deep crimson envelope with gold decal flowers nicely placed along the front framing the invitee’s name, which in this case says Natsuo Todoroki, a name that Natsuo hasn’t seen in a while.

“I’m glad you’ve come to that decision Natsuo. I look forward to seeing you at the gala.”

“Can you just go now,” Natuso snaps tiredly, “You’ve done enough damage here as it is.”

Enji hesitates for a moment before giving a soft nod of his head and turning to walk back down the path. Before he leaves, he turns his head back to Natsuo one last time.

“Why not use the family name?” He calls.

Natsuo can’t help but scoff, “And spend the rest of my life being Endeavour’s Qirkless Son? Haven’t you seen how much much Shouto’s been struggling to get out from under your shadow? I’d rather just be Natsuo.”

Enji finally takes his leave and Natsuo can’t help but give a sigh of relief when he turns the corner. Still staring at the envelope Natsuo goes to head back into the rec room but as soon as he starts opening the door he here’s the sound of nosey brats rushing back to their seats. Natsuo opens the door to a whole room of students looking at him with something akin to awe in their eyes.

One of the older students pipes up from the back, “So are we gonna be calling you Todoroki from now on?”

[peppersbian]

16 October 2022

Realistically I know money isn't an issue for me. I have two bills. Insurance and Car. But im stressed out. I'm used to having a steady income every week but now i am being paid monthly, and much less than what I was. What a bummer.

Its just stress really. I want another source of income. Ive I can take a second job, work a little on the weekends. Though in an ideal world I would have a passive income. I feel like I should finish the popsicklestuck sets on redbubble, so maybe I would get more sales and get paid my 20 bucks more than like once every 6-7 months. I think realistically that should be my first step. I also have been thinking about making crochet patterns and selling them on etsy/ravelry/itchio/whatever. I think that would be fun, but it would probably require being active on social media and all.

Aris says I should tutor and Clover says I should babysit. I bet i could do those, but i really would just like to not be anxious about money!

I wanna make a zine. Like a mini monthly publication. Form a poetry group. Make moodboards. I fantasize about like a pdf to download and share but I love the idea of printing and folding and handing them out too. i want to write and contribute to something again. Its like a writers high since the publication party.

Im writing in my journal again for now. hope this can scratch my itch, hehe