#Syndicate Sunday
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Yabba Dabba Ouch “Flintstones Comic Strip” (1963)
#60s#the flintstones#comic strip#sunday comics#hanna barbera#McNaught Syndicate#comic art#fred flintstone#zapped
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It hits differently when your work appears in print...
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I thinks folks expressing incredulity at the quality of the writing and composition in Calvin and Hobbes are often missing the context that Bill Watterson is arguably the most influential sequential artist of his generation. Like, this is a guy who once told the editors of nationally syndicated newspapers to go fuck themselves when they wanted to mess with his panel layouts, and not only did he keep his job, he got his way. He could have had literally any gig he wanted, and he chose to be the Sunday funnies guy because that's what made him happy. He's basically the Weird Al of sequential art.
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i just realized he's trying to dress like mvp
#ricochet demands to be taken seriously despite everything about him#aew lb#in his sunday best to impress the hurt syndicate
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Well, I Hope You’re Happy
Original sketch and final art by Jim Davis from a Garfield Sunday strip, published by United Feature Syndicate, July 18, 1982.
#80s#comic strip#art process#garfield#jim davis#newspaper strip#sunday strip#united features syndicate
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hihi, how are u⁉️ may i request jealous crocodile and/or doflamingo smut? i am OBSESSED w ur fur & feathers story, you’re an amazing writer!! thank you sm 🙏🫶💓‼️
➤ pairing: sir crocodile x afab!reader
➤ word count: 2.6k
➤ warnings: dom!crocodile, possessive behavior, spanking, degradation, praise, belly bulge, overstimulation, mentioned breeding kink, established relationship, fem reader
aww i'm glad you like it! i decided to give crocodile some love since i already have a few fics about doffy :3 i had really bad horny brainrot writing this he drives me insane
NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu
Deciding not to join Baroque Works was your own choice, but you shouldn’t be suffering for it.
The crime syndicate’s leader and you had been in a relationship for quite a while. You’d long since accepted his dedication to his job and his workaholic tendencies – a serious job required someone just as serious. But recently, it had gotten to be too much.
He spent sixteen hours a day holed up in his office, pouring over documents and answering calls and meeting with Miss All Sunday. Grunted quiet greetings when he came home at night, climbing into bed beside you then falling asleep immediately. He’d barely said three words to you all week.
You were jealous of the fucking Transponder Snail for how much attention it got. It was time to take matters into your own hands.
So you put on your sluttiest dress, a nice pair of heels, and flashy diamond earrings, then wandered around the massive Rain Dinners casino looking for easy prey. You settled on a drunk average-looking man with a winning streak at roulette. He openly ogled your body as you approached, and smirked lecherously when you asked if the empty seat on his left was taken.
The man clearly wasn’t a local. He didn’t recognize you, even though you weren’t shy about hanging onto Crocodile’s arm in public. And he was much too stupid to notice the casino staff’s constant nervous glances. While laughing and holding your drink, you brushed a flirty hand over his shoulder and pressed your body against him.
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Crocodile emerge from the staff-only hallway to survey the room. Everything about him commanded attention – his abnormal height, his expensive clothes, his intimidating presence. In a flash, he materialized behind you. Half of his body was still reforming from a whirling sandstorm. Menacing golden eyes shone down at you, but his expression was eerily blank.
The entire casino fell silent. Everyone’s focus was on you.
Crocodile exhaled a pungent cloud of cigar smoke. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Bullshit. He’d hardly looked at you at all for nearly two weeks. Ignoring the shivers running down your spine, you decided to continue taunting him.
“I’m watching my good friend here play roulette! He’s very lucky, he might take all your money home with him.” You didn’t even remember the man’s name, but you lied with a cheeky grin and firmly patted his thigh twice.
Much too friendly for Crocodile’s liking.
Your lover’s eyes narrowed in on the empty martini glass in front of you. “How many of those have you had?”
“I dunno, three? Four?” You turned to the stranger with a saccharine smile. “Were you keeping count?”
The man was frozen in place, terrified into silence at the sight of the eight foot tall Warlord towering above him. His all-consuming fear made him seem like a small animal staring into a Bananawani’s open jaws.
“You’re drunk. You should sit down.” Crocodile’s tone was steady but dangerous. Always aware of his public image, his carefully chosen words made him seem like the perfect gentleman.
“But I am sit–“
A murderous glare cut you off mid-sentence. You realized you’d taken your bratty act as far as it could go – any more might be threatening to your well-being. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you rose from your seat and automatically moved to his side. Tucked yourself into the folds of his coat, choosing to look down at your heels rather than his face.
“Make yourself comfortable in my office, darling.” The Warlord patted your shoulder, causing you to flinch. His voice dropped an octave as he growled, “I’d like to speak to this lucky gentleman in private.”
Crocodile’s pristine office was unnervingly quiet. You took a seat on the plush couch facing his desk, nervously bouncing your legs and trying to calm your racing heartbeat. With the lights off, the room was only illuminated by the water surrounding it. Dark shadows of swimming Bananawani regularly moved across the walls. Silly little prey, willingly walking into their nest.
The door suddenly slammed shut behind you. Heavy footsteps slowly approached but you didn’t dare turn around. Rich cologne flooded your nostrils and his golden hook flashed in your peripheral vision.
Your lover stayed quiet, patiently biding his time until the silence finally got to you. Timidly, you asked, “What happened to that man?”
“What man?” Your lover cocked his head to the side, feigning ignorance. After a moment, a sadistic chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Oh, you mean the mummy in the back room. Let’s say he mysteriously disappeared.”
You whipped your head around with wide eyes. “You killed him for me?”
Oddly, you didn’t feel bad about it – that man was a creep. Getting rid of him was probably a blessing for the women of Alabasta.
“Of course. I’d do anything for you, dear.” He sounded sincere, but then leaned down and fiercely whispered, “Except play this stupid game of yours. I like showing you off, not sharing you.”
Soft breath tickled your cheek and the fur lining of his coat brushed against your skin. You felt a fire ignite in your core – he was irresistibly sexy when he became possessive (well, more possessive than usual).
“Have I done something to upset you?” Crocodile kissed and licked down the column of your neck. “Or were you taunting me for fun?”
“Y-You’ve been so busy lately, I was–” The word ‘lonely’ died on your lips when he sunk his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder.
“Oh, my poor dear. Are you feeling neglected?” He cooed when you shyly nodded, pressing a chaste kiss to the bite mark. “I’m very sorry. Work’s been out of control recently, but everything will settle down soon. You have my attention now.”
The tip of his hook slid under your dress’s thin shoulder strap, then cleanly tore through it. He repeated the action on the other side until the torn fabric slipped down to reveal your bare breasts.
“Not even wearing a bra?” Your lover clicked his tongue, roughly cupping and caressing your right boob then smacking the soft flesh. “If that man looked down your dress, then his death sentence was too lenient. I should’ve tortured him.”
“You’re so scary,” you giggled, letting your head fall back against his sturdy chest with a content sigh. Grainy fingers traced your areola then rubbed over your hardened nipples. Thankfully, you knew you’d never experience the true extent of his wrath – he adored you.
Without warning, he wrapped his cold hook around your throat. The proximity of its sharp edge to such a dangerous area made your hair stand on end.
“Bend over my desk,” he commanded, gently nipping your ear. “Darling.”
You stumbled over to the enormous desk, legs shaking from anticipation and arousal. Bracing your arms on the polished wood, you arched your back and presented your ass to him. The Warlord took a moment to admire the view, amused by your visible impatience.
“I bought you these,” Crocodile drawled, tracing the waistband of your silky panties with the curved back of his hook. You never saw their price tag, but they felt expensive. He poked your earlobe. “I bought you those earrings, too. They cost more berry than that pathetic man could ever make. Everything about you belongs to me – seems like I have to remind you.”
A large hand came down on your ass hard, jiggling the soft flesh and making you cry out in delight. The collection of rings on his fingers added a delicious extra sting. Three more spanks followed rapidly in the same spot, then four on the other cheek until every part of your ass ached.
Crocodile snickered when you rubbed your thighs together like an animal in heat. A wet spot had already dampened your panties. “Silly little slut. If you wanted to be spanked, you should’ve just asked. No need for all the theatrics.”
“Didn’t have a chance to since you were talking to that Snail all fucking day.” Your petulant mumble quickly turned into a yelp when his hand brutally struck the crease of your thighs. Making sure you’d feel the sting every time you sat down. He grabbed the roots of your hair and yanked your head back.
“Watch your tone,” Crocodile growled. The Warlord released you, catching you before your limp body hit the desk and easily flipped you onto your back. A wicked smirk almost as wide as his scar spread across his face. He hungrily observed your body like a predator about to pounce.
He pulled down your panties with an unnerving carefulness – he didn’t want to damage his property, after all. Then he roughly spanked your bare pussy. Your surprised cry of pain echoed throughout the empty room. Satisfied with your reaction, he did it again and again until your folds turned puffy.
Crocodile spread your cunt using the back of his hook so he could land a direct hit on your sensitive clit. The impact on your bundle of nerves sent electric shocks throughout your body, your back arching painfully off the table. Your lover chuckled and swiped two fingers through your drenched folds.
“Who else can make you this wet?” Crocodile webbed your juices between his fingers before bringing them to your lips. Obediently opening your mouth, you suckled and swirled your tongue around them. Paying extra attention to his rings, making sure the precious jewels shined with your spit. Though it was a rhetorical question, he pulled his fingers out to hear your response.
“No one.” You answered honestly, your eyes dilated with lust and chest heaving. “Just you.”
“You’re damn right.” Crocodile unlatched his belt, letting his trousers hit the floor with a metallic clang. His enormous dick smacked against his pelvis, rock hard and leaking pearly precum. You unconsciously licked your lips at the sight. “Can’t let another cock can satisfy you, either. I need to ruin you for anyone else.”
Demanding you to look directly at him, he lined up his tip with your hole and thrust his hips forward. Slowly at first – his massive cock often met resistance in your tiny cunt – but after the first few inches, he slammed the entire length inside. Knocking all the air out of your lungs, your head lolling back on the desk. Crocodile stayed like that, appreciating the pretty bulge in your belly.
“Crocodile, please…”
“My name sounds perfect on your lips.” That predatory gaze was back, the need to possess you overwhelming his thoughts. Your lover pulled back until only the tip remained in your dripping pussy, then harshly rammed his dick in all the way.
Quickly setting a rough pace, Crocodile palmed at your tits with rough hands then leaned into the crook of your neck, whispering a dizzying mix of praise and degrading phrases. All of your coherent thoughts vanished from your brain.
You clutched onto his coat to ground yourself, to not get lost in the sea of pleasure washing over you. His cock was too fucking big. Too fucking good. It bullied its way inside your wet walls, permanently reshaping them to the perfect fit as he called you his pretty little cocksleeve.
Over a week’s worth of pent-up sexual urges were quickly coming to a head. Crocodile knew your body so well that he immediately recognized the signs of your impending orgasm. He reached his hand between your bodies to rub circles on your clit, pinching and pulling the sensitive nub for good measure.
“H-Holy fuck, ahhh, shit, I’m gonna…”
The Warlord smirked cruelly and paused his movements with his cock halfway inside you. “Apologize for being a brat. For even looking at that worthless man.”
If you had a stronger resolve, you could’ve kept this game going even longer. Asked him to apologize for ignoring you. Maybe even gotten a few more spanks out of it. But you needed to cum, and you desperately needed his giant cock to move.
“I’m sorry,” you panted desperately. “I won’t be bratty anymore, I promise. You’re the only man I’ll ever want. I’ll do anything, just – please, please, let me cum.”
“Very good girl.” Crocodile rewarded you by sensually rolling his hips to stir your insides around. Snickering, he admitted, “Although, I do enjoy when you act up every once in a while. You’re especially sexy when you submit to me.”
Your lover resumed fucking you hard enough to make the desk creak. Legs shaking with every thrust, your eyes were unfocused and the only thought in your head was how full you felt. Looking down, you dreamily watched the bump in your stomach move up and down as his dick rearranged your guts.
“Scream my name loud enough for the entire casino to hear when you cum. Let them know who owns you.”
Just one scream wasn’t enough for you – you chanted his name like a prayer as your orgasm hit you in full force. Juices gushed around Crocodile’s cock and dripped down his balls. He lazily fondled your clit to help you through it, only pulling away once the aftershocks had subsided. You lay limply on the desk, face flushed and chest heaving.
Belatedly, you realized that Crocodile hadn’t budged. A concerning sign.
“You… you didn’t cum?”
“This soon? Of course not. I didn’t commit murder for one measly orgasm,” he chuckled. “Evidently, I have a lot of lost time to make up for. Your cunt better be prepared.”
“W-wait, give me a minute –”
“No, dear, you were right. I spent too much time ignoring you. You deserve all my love.” He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust that knocked his mushroom tip against your cervix. “And affection.” Another thrust. “And every inch of my cock.”
Filthy squelching sounds and your lover’s balls slapping against your ass accompanied your overwhelmed scream. Tears pricked at your eyes as he increased his pace, your brain becoming as mushy as your cunt.
“Such a perfect pussy. Only a real man like me can treat it properly.” Crocodile murmured smugly. Leaning down to press his body flush against yours, his muscular pecs squished against your tits. His normally slicked-back hair was coming undone, strands sticking to his forehead from sweat. Dizzying pleasure washed over you when his fingers found your clit again.
Crocodile felt his balls tighten, but held himself back from the edge by slowing down to a relaxed grind, focusing all of his attention on you. You fucking lost your mind when he spelled each letter of his name on your sensitive bundle of nerves. A second orgasm washed over you in a bright light, your tongue lolling out of your mouth as you murmured absolute nonsense mixed with cries of his name.
Your cunt clamping down on his cock like a vice sent him over the edge. At the very last second, Crocodile pulled out to spurt thick stripes of cum across your stomach. With a deep, satisfied groan, he jerked himself to completion until your skin was painted white. Fully marking you as his own.
Satisfaction and exhaustion made your eyes flutter shut, but Crocodile ensured you stayed awake by giving you a surprisingly tender forehead kiss. Cradling your cheek, he asked, “Feel better?”
“My ass hurts, but yes. I feel great.” You nodded with a fucked-out grin, chasing his lips for a real kiss which he eagerly granted.
“Good. As pretty as you look covered in my cum, the next load is going inside you. I need to fuck a baby into my beautiful girl.”
His next load? Your eyes widened when he began stroking his cock again, still soft but beginning to twitch with interest. Turning your head, you met the downward-turned eyestalks of his shut-off Transponder Snail.
#bananawani comparison bc it's what he would've wanted#sir crocodile smut#sir crocodile x reader#sir crocodile imagine#crocodile smut#dom!crocodile#crocodile x reader#crocodile imagine#one piece smut#one piece x reader#sir crocodile#crocodile#request#anon#mine#my fics#croc
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Resistance News Network:
Despite the announcement of a ceasefire agreement, the bloodthirsty zionist entity persists in its genocidal war up until the final moments before the agreement takes effect on Sunday, targeting homes filled with displaced people.
IOF warplanes continue to bomb the Gaza Strip, even as its people celebrated the anticipated end of their suffering.
In the past three hours:
Northern Gaza
- Heavy IOF shelling currently underway in the northern Gaza Strip. Dozens of injuries are arriving to Al-Maamadani and Al-Shifaa hospital.
- An IOF airstrike targeted Al-Nabih"family home in Al-Shawa Square, Al-Daraj area, east Gaza City. The attack resulted in at least 3 martyrs and injuries, and efforts are ongoing to search for missing individuals under the rubble.
- Five martyrs and several injuries reported after an IOF airstrike targeted the home of the Abu Jalila family near the Engineers Syndicate, close to the Abdul Aal intersection in Sheikh Radwan.
Central Gaza
- Two martyrs and several injuries reported due to a reconnaissance missile strike on Street 20, near Khaled School in Al-Nuseirat Camp.
- Martyrs and injuries reported after targeting a humanitarian aid group near the entrance of Al-Bureij, central Gaza Strip.
Southern Gaza
- An IOF airstrike targeted a residential home belonging to the Al-Lahham family in the Qizan Al-Rashwan area of Khan Younis.
And just now:
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Gerec’s Favorite Fics - 2024
A couple days late but here’s a list of some of my favorite 2024 fics. A great big thanks to everyone still writing for this fandom (or newly writing for it!); I know I’m very grateful to have all these amazing stories to read and to share!
CHERIK FICS
Standing Invitation by smilebackwards
Erik has two standing invitations in his life. One is to the maximum security wing of Rikers Island prison. The other is to Sunday tea with Charles Xavier.
Strange Bodies, Strange Minds by populuxe
He wiggles a set of sturdy, blunt fingers that he unfortunately knows all too well, and then he raises his other hand and wiggles those sturdy, blunt fingers, too. They’re his hands—he’s making them move, and he can feel them moving—but they’re obviously not his hands.
“For God’s sake, Erik,” his doppelgänger snaps. He points to the mirror above the fireplace. “Stand up and properly look.”
A few weeks into their mutant-collecting road trip, Charles and Erik approach a boy with a very special mutation—who subsequently turns his abilities on them. Trapped in each others’ bodies (and saddled with each others’ powers), it seems like an inconvenience at first, but it will have consequences neither of them could have predicted.
Rapprochement by populuxe
“Hank peered at the newspaper over his shoulder and said haltingly, ‘Do you think…Erik might be trying to send a message…to you specifically?’”
When Charles stands Erik up for their annual winter holiday getaway, Erik spends the following twelve months expressing his displeasure in increasingly creative ways. With this year’s winter break approaching, Charles makes plans to head to the cabin alone—or without contacting Erik in advance, anyway...
Is It Casual Now? by niniblack
Charles hasn’t seen his ex-boyfriend Erik since the latter went to an Imperial prison six years ago, and he’s just fine with that, but a hookup job gone bad on a rain drenched planet has Raven calling in the only person they know who can talk down the criminal syndicate currently after them: that very same ex-boyfriend, Erik.
Erik’s not that happy to see him either.
It's Not Too Bed by Aurrus
The room is tiny – which is good, because at least it’s blessedly warm, which he didn’t dare hope for, considering their luck, but it’s also tiny enough that there’s only enough space for a rickety side table, a small desk, a chair and a coat rack.
And a bed, of course. Only—
“There’s only one bed,” Erik points out needlessly.
things have changed for me by joshriku
It's not easy for Erik to juggle a divorce and burnout from his current job. Luckily, he's made up his mind - he'll quit this job, move out on his own, and find his way from there. It's totally not a mid-life crisis.
Luckily, Charles is there to help.
Despair is for the Living by jeriais
This curse is devouring him from the inside and he's afraid of what he'll be left with when it finally consumes him.
Or, an angsty vampire AU in which everything changes.
all the soarings of your mind by ikeracity
From the PDM III, the Psionic Diagnostician Manual: 297.3 PSYCHIC BLEED
Diagnostic Features The essential feature of Psychic Bleed is an abnormal, involuntary transfer of feelings, thoughts, experiences, and preferences in a close relationship involving at least one psychic partner (Criterion A) following prolonged mind-to-mind to contact. The psychic partner, sometimes termed the "instigator" or "source case," is unable to prevent this transfer from occurring through traditional psionic defenses such as shielding, empathetic defense, or astral distancing (Criterion B). The transfer is not better accounted for by another psychic disorder (e.g. Latent Psychic Manifestation Syndrome) or individual mutations of either the source case or the receptive case (Criterion C). See below for diagnostic criteria.
---
Erik likes his psychic therapist—maybe too much. Is sharing his therapist's cravings and impulses a... known side effect?
The Boy Raised in Fire (The Boy with the Sigil Tattoo Remix) by jeriais
Erik Lehnsherr is on a mission to kill his creator, the man who raised him to be the living weapon that he is. He has a plan and will suffer no distractions, that is, until a handsome stranger gets in his way.
On compromise and lasting peace by brawlingdiscontent
The morning of their wedding, the king of Genosha and his soon-to-be consort reflect, separately, on what’s to come.
magnetic attraction by brawlingdiscontent
Charles may be an online dating novice, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to fall for a catfish
The (e)X: Men and Other Issues by larkdily
Erik’s writing is just like Erik himself — strong, vibrant, and always captivating to Charles, despite his better judgment.
or: It's senior year of college. After a publishing mishap of epic proportions, Charles and Erik - bitter exes and uni literary rivals - are drawn reluctantly back into each other's orbits.
The Shears by Isolee (WIP) It's been fifteen years since he last looked at Erik, the house, and all his mistakes. Thirty-year-old academic, he thinks, orphan, now, and starving, too. His mother is dead, and nothing has changed, except he forgets what he likes for breakfast. And Erik looks at him like - like he doesn't understand the language Charles is speaking. Like he has to strain a bit to make sense of the man in front of him.
With the pruning, a branch is stronger; you will learn to love the shears.
out of my league by roachvibes (WIP)
Charles Xavier leads an extraordinary career in professional soccer until an injury leaves him with no choice but to retire into coaching. When he unexpectedly encounters his ex-husband at a national football conference, the two are forced to reconcile their differences on human-mutant coexistence—and parenting.
Best Laid Plans by InterstellarClark (WIP)
Alpha Erik is tired of waiting for the right person to settle down with, he’s ready to be a father and have a family again. Omega Charles has lost everything, his inheritance, his job at Columbia, and needs a next step. Both of them turn to Stark Surrogacy, hoping they can find a future.
Inevitably Yours by vvividlyy (WIP)
Times like this, Charles wishes Raven hadn’t told him to stay out of her head years ago. Well, he wishes that all the time, but it would be really especially handy for situations like trying to figure out exactly how upset she was about her breakup with no particular person for no particular reason.
Or:
Sometimes the man of your dreams meets your sister first.
XAVIERINE, CHERIGAN & OTHER PAIRINGS
burning gin by kremas
Logan clenches his jaw. He takes one last drag of his cigar, and Charles watches nervously, his heart beating rampantly in his chest, anticipating rejection.
Please don’t say no. Please don’t say no. Please don’t say no.
Logan slowly blows the smoke out of his mouth, the cloud trickling out and down, dissipating just before it can reach Charles’ face.
He shakes his head, briefly shutting his eyes.
“God, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill Magneto.”
Or, after Erik leaves him, again, Charles just needs to feel something. Logan can help.
The Deal We're Making by arcapelago (arcanewinter)
After Logan resumes control of his own body after his future self supposedly took it over for a few days, he eventually settles down on the grounds of the Xavier School for Whatever it was, mainly due to the attentions of its headmaster.
But a few years into this unusually stable living arrangement, a new student with a unique ability causes Logan to forfeit his body a second time--and find himself in a different one.
It gets worse from there.
Return (the orbital period remix) by arcapelago (arcanewinter)
Midway through August, Logan comes home.
The whole ride, all four hundred miles of it, he refuses to call it that. But as he parks his motorcycle in the garage in the same place it was a month ago and extinguishes his cigar on his forearm, he's not sure what else to call it.
Surrender, maybe.
A Type by Groot_the_tree
“You certainly have a type, Charles,” Erik had said one day and, at the time, Charles wasn’t sure he understood what Erik was referring to. Now though, it was becoming more and more clear that Erik had, for once, been right. - Charles slowly realizes that Erik and Logan are more alike than he first thought. And it just took them dating to find out.
Metal Man and the Magnet by Groot_the_tree
“You know that thing you and the professor do?” Logan asked, sitting on the couch pushed against the wall.
“You’re going to need to be more specific than that,” Erik said, “Charles and I do a lot of stuff together.”
“In the bedroom,” Logan added which, okay, narrowed the list down to some extent but it was still rather large. “With control and his powers? Where he takes over things.”
“Yeah, I’m familiar with the concept. Why?” He asked.
There was a brief pause before Logan asked, “Do ya think me and you could do somethin’ like that? With the adamantium in me and your powers?”
Promises by Mataolma
Mafia AU. Erik is the right-hand man of mob boss Sebastian Shaw. Fed up with life at the man's side, Erik plots his escape, but not knowing that this decision will lead him to lose something very important.
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The Katie McGrath Archives (WIP)
A repository of my ongoing digital archeology & archival work please contact me if you have anything to contribute and buy me a coffee if you value my content
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Interview - 2012-12-03 Merlin S5 Katie McGrath interview international press day [BJsRealm]
Interview - 2012-12-03 Colin, Bradley, Katie phone interview [BJsRealm]
Interview - 2013-11-09 Katie McGrath on BBC One Saturday Kitchen [BJsRealm]
Interview - 2019-07-22 ENTREVISTA SUPERGIRL Elenco fala sobre a nova temporada [Warner Channel Brasil]
Interview - 2019-07-23 Melissa Benoist Teases Directing An Episode Of 'Supergirl' [ET Canada]
Interview - 2020-02-21 ‘Supergirl’ Celebrates 100th Episode [ET Canada]
Panels - 2011-07-28 Merlin Comic Con 2011 Panel [ThinkHeroTV]
#katie mcgrath#katie mcgrath interview#Katie McGrath archive#Katie McGrath filmography archive#wayback machine#media preservation
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About Newspaper Comics
An ask cross-posted from Cohost, which is not long for this world.
Anonymous User asked: I would like to know your opinions about newspaper comics
This is a very choose your own adventure kind of question. Am I meant to speak about the art or the business of newspaper strips? The current state of newspaper comics or their century-spanning history? Stream of consciousness it is.
Newspaper comics were the original dream for me before all other dreams. I fell in love with Garfield and the story of its success, and wanted to make a syndicated strip at an early age. Later, I fell in love with Calvin and Hobbes - itself a lesson in craft, history and business - and abandoned the syndication dream for “art by any means necessary”, and dove into webcomics. (There were a few more steps along the way, but that’s the basic trajectory and not uncommon for my age.)
In the 80s and 90s when I was dreaming Garfield dreams, syndicated newspaper strips were already dying. They’d been jam packed so tightly into rectangles in the comics section that no room for great cartooning remained. The schedules were brutal, the audience was broad and apt to complain, and the aging comics legends were phoning in or delegating their work, so even the full-page Sunday strips were gridded and lifeless. Even fresh new artists (rare as they were) were hammered creatively into the shape of the paper. The death of most major newspapers from the late 00s onward spelled the end of Garfield Meredith's dream.
The thing is, Garfield Meredith would be very pleased with the present day. Comics are bountiful, they're free to read online, and they're all accessible from a single app. Even better, the creators interact with their audiences day and night. In comics we have safely returned to the late-stage newspaper syndication model, after a brief "art by any means" era, with 24/7 access to the creators as a bonus. It goes without saying that most of the money these comics generate goes to the platform. As more people discover online comics, the memory of any other model has faded. Comics is a pushover industry, easily steamrolled by detached parties with money.
So what do we do? I'm afraid that's not what this post is about. Mom's tired. My heads is not really in the comics game anymore, and big tech & our rotting internet is a problem everywhere. But I think discussions about our history as cartoonists and comics appreciators - and an acknowledgment of what is disappearing - is important. It's no surprise that Bill Watterson's stubborn refusal to license, adapt, or needlessly continue his creation past its prime shocked me and many others onto a different path. I think it is useful to be a high-functioning crank in your own age: to fully accept the now without forgetting past possibilities or drawing a border around the future.
And of course, we mustn't let current trends tame our wild imaginations or our command of the craft. We have been given the tools to create beauty and make sense of life, and these creations - not the platforms that indiscriminately corral them - are worth sharing.
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Pneumatic Chiseled “That’s My Pop!” (1935)
#1930s#30s#king features syndicate#thats my pop#comic strip#sunday strip#comic art#milt gross#ink#graphite#bristol board
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Hualālai Chung: What untapped destination should people know about? Jae-Ha Kim: I wouldn’t consider this destination untapped, but I will definitely say that Korea is an extremely fun place to visit. My experiences there were definitely some of the most memorable ones.
#Hualālai Chung#Moana 2#Chicago Tribune#tearsheet#syndicated columnist#I wrote this#Sunday newspaper
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Q: How about the stories that an American syndicate offered Brian Epstein £3,000,000 for his percentage of the Beatles? For that money, said John, I'd sell my share of the others any day. Paul was more serious. He said: If Brian accepted that offer, I'd just quit. I'm not going to be pushed around in America by somebody regarding us as merchandise. The others agreed.
(The Jack Bentley Page, Sunday Mirror, 3 January 1965)
To him [Allen Klein], artists are money. To me, they’re more than that.
(Paul McCartney, Jan 1974, interview with Paul Gambaccini for Rolling Stone)
add to this
#accidental divorce#the beatles#john lennon#paul mccartney#george harrison#ringo starr#interview: paul#interview: john#allen klein#brian epstein#john and paul
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"Joseph Clement Coll's illustration of the unnamed theropod from Conan Doyle's "The Lost World". This appeared in the American syndication of the novel in the "Associated Sunday Magazine", June 16, 1912."
This is supposed to be a dinosaur and I think that's neat.
Courtesy Mark Witton on Facebook
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Crimson Lights
Summary: Kay moves to a new town after a tough breakup and falls in love with her neighbor Chris. Chris is young, handsome, and rich and he sweeps her off her feet. He's funny, sweet, loves to cuddle, and great in bed. As their relationship blossoms, Kay suspects that all may not be as it seems with Chris. She soon learns that Chris is also Bang Chan, the feared and respected leader of the SKZ crew and next in line to rule the infamous, ruthless, and powerful Crimson Syndicate, a global criminal empire.
Bang Chan x Original Character (f): Smut, Mafia AU
Warnings: This work of fiction is intended for 18+ audiences only. Includes explicit sexual content, violence, explicit language, etc. Author chooses not to issue tags for everything that takes place to preserve elements of storytelling.
Updates currently posted weekly on Saturdays or Sundays.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
My Masterlist
#stray kids fanfic#stray kids fanfiction#stray kids#skz fanfic#bang chan#bangchan fanfic#bang chan imagines#skz smut#bang chan smut#bangchan smut#hyunjin#hyunjin fanfic#hyunjin smut#stray kids smut#bangchan#changbin#changbin smut#changbin imagines#skz#skz fanfiction#changbin fanfic
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Never Too Big To Clown A Bit For Us, Eh?
Original Count Screwloose strip by Milt Gross, published by the King Features Syndicate, November 16, 1931. Count Screwloose was the “topper” strip for Gross’ Sunday strip, Dave’s Delicatessen,
#30s#comic strip#count screwloose#dave's delicatessen#newspaper strip#sunday strip#milt gross#king features syndicate
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