#WE WILL NOT BE DRAWING AN ENTIRE COMIC JUST FOR A “WOW ITS BEEN A LONG TIME HUH” META JOKE

[bonestrouslingbones]

OK CAN MY BRAIN STOP COMING UP WITH IDEAS PLEASE

[graces-mindscape]

UnderInfection Prologue Ch. 2; The Cave pt 1

"It's ok!" he called back, "I'm alright!"

Conner stood up and brushed himself off, quickly running a hand through his long, chocolate-colored hair. Having just fallen about nine or ten feet, he was lucky to have slid on some dirt that helped cushion his fall. Verdana leaned over the edge, looking down at him. Just as she was about to say something, she let out a yip as the ground caved under her, causing her to fall in with him, and land right on her pelvis.

"Ow! My coccyx." she exclaimed rubbing her back.

"Are all skeletons that specific?" Conner laughed as he helped her up.

"It's not that weird" she said taking his hand and dusting off her shirt, "it's like when a human says "ouch! My back' or whatever you all say."

"Like when you hit your hand and go 'oww my calves!'" Conner said jokingly, pretending to hurt his hand, giving the wrong term on purpose.

Verdana giggled. "Yeah!"

Conner rolled his eyes with a smirk, clearly she didn't get the joke.

"Nnnrg, where are we?' Verdana rubbed her skull a bit as she looked around the hole. It seemed way to deep to crawl out of, and to make matters worse the "walls" seemed to be loose dirt and sand, making any attempt out impossible.

"Not sure" Conner responded, also looking around. Suddenly, his gaze landed on a strange plant up against one of the newly formed walls. The plant seemed just about half his size when he walked up to it. "Woaaahhhh, check this out!" he kneeled beside the plant to examine it. It was bulbous in shape and came up to a point near the top; what made Conner even more interested were the colors. The plant was grey, at least at its base. It had pitch black splotches and red speckles all over it with a black tip and red leaves to match.

"Wow, look at this thing!" he exclaimed, grabbing a stick.

"Conner? Do you really think you should be-" before Verdana could finish her sentence, Conner poked the plant with the branch he found. Almost immediately, the plant shot out a large cloud of spores. Conner tried his best to cover his face with his elbow, but not before breathing in some of the fumes. He coughed as he fanned the spores away.

"See? I knew you shouldn't have messed with it!" Verdana exclaimed with a worried tone.

"Hey don't worry, I'm ok." Conner grinned as the cloud subsided, sounding a little breathy. As he began to stand up, he felt a sudden wave of dizziness come over him causing him to stumble back a bit. He of course caught himself, but he decided he wouldn't tell Verdana. The last thing he wanted was her freaking out about him.

"How are we going to get out of here?" Verdana moaned

"Can't skeletons teleport?" Conner asked.

"Well yeah, but I haven't gotten much of a handle on it yet. It takes a lot of my magic and I can only do it about twice a day"

Conner groaned at the fact. He decided to look around one more time.

"Look! Over there!" he pointed to what seemed to be some sort of cave opening near where the plant was. "Looks like some kind of opening, it could be a way out!"

"Are you sure Conner? What if it only leads deeper into the mountain..." Verdana looked at the cave anxiously.

"Hey, it's ok. Besides, if it doesn't go anywhere, we can just come back and wait until your magic comes back, right?" he shot her a confident, reassuring smile.

She looked at the cave, still nervous, then looked at him,eventually returning the smile.

"Alright... let's go!"

----

Read the beginning here

Soooooo it's been awhile! I've honestly been putting off posting the next segment because I told myself I was going to draw panels for it, buuuuuut I'm a lot better at writing than drawing comics so the entire time I was just too intimidated and demotivated so I never posted despite having it already written.

So! I'm going to post it anyway, but this time in two segments! I'll post the next part next week and trust me, that's when things start to really get interesting. 0-0

Stay tuned and enjoy!

Underinfection by me ^^

[divorcetual]

[ID: Three drawings of a young, chinese man with short, black and white striped hair. The first two are headshot drawings, and the third is a crude full body with the words "Organ seller, wanted crimimal, ex-cannibal" written next to it /End ID]

This is Day my friend Day of pastex fame. Hes an OC from my still yet to be drawn Comic and hes been im existence for. Since November 2022 WOW. okay. Anyway he looked totally different back then tho

[ID: A digital drawing of a young, white man with orange, pushed back hair. He has an angry expression as he breaks an egg into a pan /End ID]

He used to have color changing hair. rip proto day's hair u will be missed. ANYWAY thats not important, who is day NOW?

WELL he is a gunslinging organ seller from an unincorporated settlement (<- Takes a lot of explaining, basically there was a giant war n now the world is in a nuclear winter. Theres one main city, Koro, that incorporates the smaller settlements into itself in exchange for the ppl in it to work for them). Day's old town was bought by Koro, so he kinda hates them now.

Previously, he had a little brother, Ico. Day was suuuuper protective of Ico and a little insane abt him- the village they lived in was totally isolated since it was on top of a mountain and the entire base was surrounded by high levels of radiation. The top, where they lived, was safe but they couldnt go anywhere. Because of this there werent a ton of other kids in the village so ig Day put all his energy into being a good older brother. Except he actuallt wasnt his overprotectiom was actually a little too excessive and got in the way of anything Ico ever wanted to do. Buuuut Ico was really deep into being a victim so he went along with it. They genuinely did care for eachother as brothers its just they were both reaaally unwell just in general

[ID: A drawing of a missing poster with a photo of two children. One has an open-mouth smile and is holding carrots. The other one is holding a rabbit stuffed animal, but his face is blocked by a speech bubble. It reads "Turns out he's one of those brothers that went missing a few months ago. We thought he died..." /End ID]

After Day + Ico's village was bought, Day was suuuper not into that and didnt want he or his brothers life to be boight and yo become employees for Koro. Their dad was one of the advisors to the mayor who had insisted on agreeing to the contract, so Day killed him and ran away with his brother at age like. 12 I like. Ico was 9? idk I just know they were kids.

While escaping, they got in a fight with someone from Koro. Ico kept running and Day's words, while Day stayed back and took on the guard. The guy was kinda weak and was also caught by surprise so Day did end up beating him, but during the fight the guard had stabbed into Day's right shoulder. Day crawled forward, trying to escape, but that ended up just pulling the knife further. It ended up going all the wau from his right shpulder down to his left knee, where it stabbed fully through. His calf ended up having to be amputated, which Day and Ico then ate as a means to get by.

Buuut, the radiation hadnt been clearned fully at that point. Part of the contract was that Koro would clear the radiation with technology unattainable to the village, but it took time to do and it was only partially done. Both of them got sick from it, but Ico- being younger and of weaker constitution- died. Not wanting his brother to die, too, he asked Day to eat the meat from his body so he wouldn't starve. Along with the radiation, a major factor in Ico's death was that neither of them had really eaten for multiple days.

[ID: A digital drawing of the same two boys from above, now both with longer hair. The second one is pale and laying on the ground as the first one kneels over him, holding intestines and with his mouth and hands covered in blood. His left leg is also cut off from the knee. At the top right is text reading "It looked like he was eaten" /End ID]

Day ended up eating part of Ico, but he couldn't bring himself to eat the whole body so he just sat with it. The death was obviously very traumatizing for him so Day just. sat there. He couldn't think, he could't move, there was nothing he was able to do. The only reason he ran away was to help Ico, so what was he supposed to do now?

Maybe a two or three weeks later there had been a ton of complaints about two homeless kids out on the street, so a social guard came to do smth about it. At this point Ico had begun decaying and his face was totally sunken and rotted. Day was kinda in a trance at this point tho so he genuinely didnt notice. When the social guard came and teied to tak the rotting corpse away, Day got super angry and started clawing at the guard and screaming for him to stop. He actually ended up killing the guard, and mutilated his face so much he was totally unrecognizable.

Day, still in his dead brother trance, couldn't tell which corpse was Ico's and that totally broke him. He ran away and was found a day later in the snow by some people from an unincorporated settlement called Geludum. He had total amnesia about his brother n family, but he still remembered things like uis name and where he was from.

Day ended up living in Geludum in a communal home. As he got older he took on a few differemt jobs, and ended up getting really immerses in the black market. One thing that particularlt interested him there was a radiation bug (see previous post in #pastex for more info on bugs), bit it was SUUUPER expensive. He found a freshly dead corpse one day and since the snow actually kept organs viable for WAYYY longer than theu would usually be, he was able to sell them and make a hugeee profit. So that became his job !! He would aquire corpses and sell their bugs and organs to make money, eventually making enough for the radbug. He installed it himself and kept on living, selling organs n gettin into gunfights bcs he was selling organs, etc etc. Ended up getting a massive bounty on his head from all the everything.

And thats basically caught up to where the story starts !! Cant give you anything else w/o spoiling it (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

babe who is Day ♡

GIGGLES CUTELY. ONE SEC

[mickey-henry]

𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐈 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝

pairing: bucky barnes (bookstore au) x reader

summary: eager to escape the heat, you find yourself in the presence of a mesmerizing bookstore and an irresistibly beautiful man.

word count: 2.3K

author’s note: hello! welcome to my third fic😊 I’m eager to share this with you all! I now have a taglist (the link is also in my bio) if you’re interested🥰 thank you to @certainaesthetic​ for helping me workshop this idea, @fuckandfluff​ for the grammar help, and @midnightf​ for hyping me up as I wrote it! likes, reblogs, messages, replies, and comments are cherished! the header images are from pinterest and the divider is from here. I hope you like it! 💖

You’re desperate to escape the smoldering heat. It’s too hot to rest in the car; it’s been baking all day beneath the sweltering summer sun, parked just outside your place of work. If you attempt to sit in it now, you’d only be greeted with a wave of torrid air, stung with the touch of your seatbelt, and burnt from the searing leather of your steering wheel.

You’re off from work earlier than usual—the blinding sun is usually long beneath the horizon before you head home for the day. The pathetically small sun visor does nothing to shade your eyes from the blazing sunlight. Rather than driving half-blind, you decide to wait out the setting sun.

As you ponder how to spend the rest of your afternoon, you realize that now is an opportune time to visit the new bookstore, The Book Haven, that opened last month. After changing out of your uniform and throwing your work stuff in the trunk, you walk across the plaza to the shop entrance.

The bookstore greets you with the chime of a bell and a rush of cool air as you step in, a blissful contrast to the scorching outdoors. The welcoming scent of coffee grounds and the tangy aroma of old books accompany the refreshing breeze. You take a deep breath, appreciating the convivial atmosphere. The bookstore is a sublime sight; words almost can’t describe its charm.

Shelves like skyscrapers—stuffed to the brim with books, magazines, and comics—graze the ceiling. An intimate reading nook lies next to the door; an inviting window seat dwells beside a floor-to-ceiling window. Clear mosaic window clings cover the glass, casting beautiful rainbows throughout the store. Stringed vintage light bulbs illuminate the shelves; candle-lit sconces adorn the top corners of each one. Oriental rugs lay between the shelves, covering a dark mocha floor. Tucked in the back of the store is a small coffee cranny, hidden at first glance. Frank Sinatra’s charming, rich vocals travel through the air, tickling your ears. The owner clearly put the utmost time, energy, and love into the creation of their shop. It is unequivocally perfect and already one of your favorite places.

You wander to the classics section, enthralled by the exquisite covers. Sensing someone nearby, your eyes glance at movement caught in the corner of your eye. Your stomach somersaults at the stunning stranger. The instant you lay your eyes on him, you forget to breathe for a moment—your breath engulfs your throat. You’re astounded by the Adonis of a man before you.

Bristles of scruff grace his defined jawline—his low man-bun neatly styles his dark chestnut hair. A grey short-sleeve button-up shirt hugs his toned arms; a white tank top clings to his lean, fit frame; cuffed slim-fit khaki pants, help up by a bronze braided belt, embrace his thick thighs; and weathered, chunky brown leather shoes don his feet.

Through the rose-colored glasses that surround your heart, your soul imagines a life with a perfect stranger. The hopeless romantic in you can’t help but steal glances, hoping to catch a better glimpse of him. The moment he turns to walk away, your heart sinks to your stomach. You hope this isn’t the last time you see this gorgeous man.

A few minutes later, you’re mulling over a collectible edition of The Catcher in the Rye, attempting to justify purchasing yet another copy of your favorite book. A melodic voice interrupts your pondering. “That’s a pretty edition of The Catcher in the Rye you’ve got there.”

You turn towards the charming voice. Lo-and-behold, it’s the love of your life: the handsome stranger you’ve mentally lived a lifetime with. His beauty is even more profound up close: now you can see that his eyes are a lovely shade of blue. His eyes, haunted by a subtle sadness, draw you in, unlike anything you’ve experienced before. You find yourself entranced in his sea-blue current; you could easily drown in his gaze. You attempt to hide your awestruck expression and converse with him like a normal human being. “I agree! I already own a copy though, do I really need a new one?”

“I think we both know the answer is always yes,” he assures.

“Okay, you’ve convinced me. I'll get it! Thank you for justifying my unnecessary purchase.”

Your words hang in the air, everything going quiet as you wait for the ravishing stranger to introduce himself. The two of you stare in silence at each other, the tension thickening as the seconds pass by. After a few moments, his face flashes in realization—you were waiting for his name.

“I’m Bucky,” he offers with an enchanting smile, extending his hand out to you. You share your name as the two of you shake hands. Your eyes stare down his veiny arm to his ring-studded fingers grasped around yours. You allow yourself to imagine for a few moments how amazing those fingers would feel tracing your arms, tangling your hair, and teasing your inner thigh. Your lustful reverie comes to an abrupt halt at the sight of the book nestled inside the crook of his elbow: The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka, the bane of your existence. You scoff with furrowed brows; of course, Mr. Handsome Stranger would be interested in the one book you despise.

“Got something to say there, sweetheart?” he questions with an amused grin.

“Out of all the classic novels in this entire store, that’s the one you chose? The Metamorphosis?”

“What’s wrong with this one?” he jives.

You pause for a second, debating whether it’s worth it to argue with a stranger. The pondering lasts only a few seconds; the exhaustion from your day disintegrates your filter. Besides, you loathe The Metamorphosis.

“What isn’t wrong with it? The dude wakes up thinking he’s an insect? The reader has to sit there throughout the entire book, wondering whether he’s a man or a bug? What the actual fuck? I didn’t appreciate the existential crisis that book gave me at fifteen; if I can help someone else avoid the suffering caused by that monstrosity, I'm going to do my part,” you huff, unamused by the joy Bucky seems to gain from your zealous analysis.

“Wow, what a passionate review! Perez Hilton would be envious of your slander. Okay then, what classic would you recommend instead?”

You cross your arms, expecting him to challenge your response. “The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde.”

“That’s a play,” he counters.

“It’s published as a book; it counts! It’s witty, playful, and has a happy ending, which is the most important point of all. It also doesn’t make you want to pull a Fahrenheit 451 and burn every copy in existence,” you attest.

He steps closer to you, tucking loose strands of his hair behind his ear. “Life doesn’t always have a happy ending, sweetheart.”

Great, there he goes again with that freaking pet name; it’s going to be the death of you. He knows your name, you just gave it to him, yet here he is, infuriatingly insisting on calling you sweetheart instead. Stupid pretty boy with his ocean blue eyes and amorous smile.

“That’s exactly the point,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “So, why would I want to read something that doesn’t end well? If I’m going to escape this reality for a while, it better be for a happier one.”

“And if it's not?”

“Then I’ll throw the book across the room and make up my own happy ending!”

“Ooh, aggressive,” he tuts. “The owner of this place might not be too happy with you if you’re throwing books all over the place; it’ll scare away the customers.”

“Then it’s a good thing the owner isn’t here,” you interject confidently, knowing full well you have no idea who the owner is.

“Well, that just isn’t true, sweetheart. You’re looking right at him.”

He’s lying—he has to be. Why would a dreamboat like Bucky own a bookstore?

You scoff, “you’re not the owner of this place.”

“I’m not? What makes you say that?” he banters.

“People like you don’t own bookstores!” you exclaim.

“People like me?” he goads, cocking his head to the side. The action erupts butterflies in your stomach.

“Attractive people!” you groan.

“So you think I’m attractive?” he plays, stepping to close the gap between you.

“Psh, no, you wish,” you muster. The heat spreading across your cheeks betrays your bluff.

There are mere inches between the both of you now; you hope he can’t hear your racing heartbeat. You watch his eyes go down from yours to your mouth and back up again. He eyes you with a smirk, his teeth playfully tugging his bottom lip. It takes everything in your power not to give in to his spell.

“I’ve known you for what, five minutes? I don’t go around kissing strangers, Bucky,” you falter, taking a step back from his closeness.

“Then let’s not be strangers, sweetheart. Grab a coffee with me; I know a nice place, not far from here,” he flirts, gesturing to the counter at the back of the store.

“Let me learn more about what goes on in that pretty little head of yours,” he purrs, his breath tickling your cheek.

“Okay, fine. I’ll have a coffee with you,” you surrender.

A bright, honeyed smile dons his face.  

“It better be good, though. Not the stale crap you usually get in the middle of the afternoon.”

“I’d only give you the best, sweetheart,” he winks, extending his right hand. You take it; he gives you a soft squeeze before weaving you through the towering shelves.

Your discussion continues with another passionate book review as he prepares your drink. He’s a sucker for gritty dystopian novels while you gravitate towards sappy romances. He shares his passion for painting as he guides you to the reading nook. The artwork hung on the edges of the bookcases is crafted by him—a detail you hadn’t noticed at first glance. His stunning work features both landscapes and people. He loves to sit in a picturesque landscape and paint for endless hours. Occasionally, he takes his old polaroid as he explores the town, snapping moments between strangers, translating their intimacy to canvas when he gets home.

He gestures for you to take a seat in the reading nook before handing you our steaming cup of joe. You sit with your legs crossed, your hands hugging the mug in your lap. Bucky sits with his leg draped over the side of the bench, his left foot pressing into his right thigh. The conversation shifts topics; the two of you divulge your desires and unfulfilled ambitions. You aren’t sure if it’s the look in his eyes, the sweet cup of joe in your palms, or the aroma of coffee surrounding you, but in his presence, your senses feel wide awake.

Before you know it, the mesmeric moon replaces the sizzling sun, melting away the blistering heat, and the steaming cup of coffee in your hands has long chilled. Bucky’s employee interrupts the blissful rendezvous, informing him that all the closing duties are complete, and he’s headed home for the night.

You stare at your watch in shock—it's five past nine. Where did the time go? You apologize profusely to the poor kid who had to close up alone; he assures you it’s no problem.

A melancholic pit in your stomach forms as you turn back to Bucky. He’s nestled himself into your soul; you don’t want to say farewell to him so soon. He has a sad glint in his eyes; you hope it’s because he’s also dreading the end of this perfect night.

“Can I walk you to your car?” he asks timidly, his earlier suave demeanor gone from his voice. He stands up in front of you, offering his arm to escort you.

“I’d love that,” you reply with a shy grin, grabbing his arm and hugging it tightly.

In the blink of an eye, you’re in front of your car. You let go of his arm and lean against the trunk. You stare into his eyes, hoping that he can see without the use of words how much you don’t want this moment to end. There’s a few moments of painful silence before Bucky clears his throat.

“So, now that we’re not total strangers, how about that kiss?” he flirts with pleading eyes.

“Okay,” you reply with a bashful smile.

He slowly reaches his hand towards your cheek, softly stroking it with his thumb. He presses his forehead against yours. “Are you sure you want to do this? ‘Cause if we do, you might not be able to get rid of me, sweetheart.”

“Yes I do, Bucky,” you giggle.

He grins as he gently presses his pillowy pink lips on yours. The kiss steals all the air from your lungs—his touch sends tingles throughout your body, electrifying your veins. You’re breathless when your lips finally part.

“Let me get your number before I let you go,” Bucky insists. You nod and hand him your phone, unable to form a coherent thought.  The ghost of his lips and fingers trace your figure. You’re barely acquainted with his tender touch, yet you feel naked without it, yearning to once again be within his grasp.

You exchange phones—adding your number and name with a sparkling heart emoji and swiftly passing his phone back before you can change your mind. Bucky snaps a quick selfie for his contact, smirking for the camera. You grin when you see he also put emojis by his name: a beetle and a kissy-face.

He pecks your cheek before opening the car door for you. “Hope to see you around, lovebug.” The new pet name burns your cheeks and erupts butterflies in your stomach.

He doesn’t leave the parking lot until your car disappears completely from his view.

You drive home with thoughts of Bucky swirling in your mind. You send a silent thanks to the universe for bringing this beautiful man into your life. His voice, touch, and smile echo in your thoughts for the remainder of the evening—his presence paving its way through your dreams. You’re falling hard and fast; you only hope he’ll be there to catch you.

tagging a few mutuals who expressed interest in this story🥰please fill out the taglist form if you’d like to be tagged in the next story! 💖

@ritesofreverie @midnightf @certainaesthetic

[reidingmelodies]

Dinos and Tigers and Donuts, Oh My!

Summary: Spencer wanted one thing this year: for your kids to plan his perfect Father’s Day Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Includes: dad!Spencer, heavy mentions of Father’s Day, mentions and consumption of food Category: Fluff Word Count: 2.6k A/N: This isn’t my favorite, but it’s been sitting in my drafts for awhile all the same! Happy Sunday ♥️

 When Spencer was called away on cases your house seemed to lose a bit of its charm.  Mornings felt more tiring than ever before, the afternoon slumps dragged on for what seemed like years, and dinners, even with babbling five and seven-year-olds at your side, were a little too quiet.

This time around though, things were different.  You woke up to your five-year-old daughter sitting by your feet, her mind preoccupied by one of the search and find books Spencer had bought her the week prior.

The space next to you was empty, a piece of paper lying where your husband previously was, and you knew exactly what it was going to say before you even picked it up.

Good morning, love,

I got called on a case this morning, but it’s local and the team thinks we can wrap it up by tonight.  The kids both ate breakfast- and PSA that they were a little too excited I was going to be gone for the day.  I don’t know what they’re planning, but good luck.  I love you, and I’ll see you soon.

-Spencer

Unlike Spencer, you knew exactly what the kids were excited for, and it had everything to do with Father’s Day being tomorrow- you just hoped he would be home in time to celebrate like he predicted.

You folded the letter and placed it in your nightstand along with the others you’ve found gracing his pillow in years past when your bedroom door opened just the slightest amount.

In walked your seven-year-old son, comically exaggerating his tip toe motions as he stage whispered to his sister.  

“Is Mommy still sleeping?” He shifted his gaze in your direction, all effort to keep quiet out the window when he saw your eyes meet his.

“Mom! Guess what?” you opened your mouth to respond, but your daughter beat you to the punch.

“Daddy left for a work trip this morning!  So, we can make our plan today while he isn’t here!”

There was no denying that your kids loved their daddy, that was for sure.

“That’s so great!” you matched their enthusiasm with ease, getting ready for the day while they kept brainstorming in the background.  

Just last week, you had asked Spencer what he wanted to do for Father’s Day over dinner, and the children were as attentive as ever, eyes wide and lips pursed as they waited to hear the plans for the big day.

But, to their amusement, Spencer’s only plan was that they plan the entire day.  His reasoning was that they were the reason he was a dad so they should be the ones to decide what to do, but really you knew the truth was that he overheard their whispers about having the perfect plan for his day.

A plan you were finally going to be let in on, so it seemed.

The three of you made your way down to the kitchen where you settled down with your breakfast, eyebrows raised in enjoyment at your children.  They were sat across from you with a stash of markers and fresh index cards, and they had a few stacks of previously filled out index cards resting along the center of the table.

Ah- so that’s where they’re going with this.

It had become a bit of a family tradition to have a family scavenger hunt whenever you had a full weekend together.  You and Spencer were all too familiar with the concept of cherishing the time you have with your loved ones, and there were many a weekend where Spencer was called away, or you were busy with a million other plans ranging from extended family gatherings to birthday parties or weddings.

It was all the more reason to make the moments where it was just the four of you count even more- and thus, family scavenger hunts were born.

When they were toddlers, the scavenger hunts centered around finding certain shapes or colors, be it in the house or at the park.  Once every item was checked off you would have a family outing of their choice: the go to choice used to be another trip to the park (the one with the ‘fancier’ slides this time), but with the upgrade to slightly harder scavenger hunts centered on science and math they’ve upped their prize to ice cream.

What could you say? They were Spencer’s kids through and through.

“Wow!” you exclaimed, relishing in the beaming smiles on their faces, “do you guys want to make a scavenger hunt for daddy?”

Two enthusiastic faces nodded eagerly in your direction as your son grabbed one of the red markers.

“Yes! And we can have dino pancakes in the morning and get donuts after our scavenger hunt at the zoo- all of daddy’s favorite things!”

Dino pancakes were a Sunday morning staple in your home- you would use a cookie cutter to cut out a dinosaur shaped pancake, and the kids would eat those while you and Spencer would eat the ones with the dinosaur outline in them (and a few regular ones for good measure).  But donuts instead of ice cream?  That was new.

“That’s a great idea, I’m so proud of you guys for working together to plan this,” you praised, “but why donuts?”

Your daughter peered up from the index card she was drawing flowers on to answer your question, “because they’re daddy’s favorite and it’s daddy’s day!”

“And for our scavenger hunt we want all the animals to spell out ‘best dad ever’,” your son tacked on at the end, already beginning the task of writing numbers and circling them on the front of the card.

That was another newfound tradition for your family.  Now that the kids were learning to read, the two of you would try to have the first letter of each answer spell out a certain word or phrase.  Sometimes, it would be something like ‘I love you’ or ‘hello’, other times it would be the name of a special someone that would be joining you for ice cream afterwards (so far ‘Aunt Penny’ and ‘Uncle D’ were their favorite ones to come across).

You grinned once more, moving to grab your laptop and pulling the Smithsonian’s National Zoo site up to look at their list of animals.

“Alright, my loves- let’s do this”.

***

Three hours, eleven index cards, one snack break, and two very patient children later, your scavenger hunt was finished, index cards clipped and ready to go for the following morning.

Each index card had blank slots, the number of which corresponded to the name of the animal, on the front of the card with three fun facts written on the back.  In retrospect, Spencer wouldn’t even need the slots (or more than one fun fact, to be fair), but you knew he’d make a show of trying to think of each and every animal tomorrow afternoon.

Yet another reason you loved him.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur, all of your energy going into spending time with your kids. But once they went to bed, that energy was refocused into prepping for tomorrow to take your mind off the fact that it was nearing 10 PM and your husband wasn’t there.

You couldn’t bear to think of your kids disappointment if he didn’t make it home that night.

Outfits out and pancakes ready to be made, you made your way to the couch when the clock struck 11:30 PM, ready to settle in for a movie while you awaited his return but there was no need- as you walked into the room your husband made his way through the front door.  He looked as exhausted as ever, but the glimmer in his eyes proclaimed what you knew to be true.

He was happy to be home.

***

7 AM the next morning found you face to face with two wide eyed children gently shaking you awake, joy radiating from them as they saw that their father was fast asleep next to you.

With much persuasion in the form of puppy dog eyes, you made your way out of bed and into the kitchen to start the first task of the day: dino pancakes.  

Your little helpers set the table and brought Spencer’s gifts from the coat closet and into the dining room in the meantime, and as you placed the last pancake on a plate two arms wrapped around you and pulled you back tightly.

“Good morning, darling,” his raspy morning voice brought a soft smile to your face, and you leaned your head back to kiss his lips in greeting.

“Happy Father’s Day, Spence,” you laid another kiss against his lips, pulling back as the patter of little feet made their way into the kitchen.

“Daddy!  Happy Father’s Day!”

“Daddy!  Come see your gifts and eat pancakes!”

Two little voices fought for the spotlight, and Spencer kneeled to the ground to wrap the both of them in a hug.  You laughed at the scene, watching as they squeezed him just as hard before grabbing onto his arm and leading him to the dining room table.

“C’mon, Dad,” your son pulled his chair out and pushed his gifts closer to his seat, “let’s eat and open gifts!”

“Gifts?  You guys know I don’t want anything,” his brows furrowed as he looked at you, but you shrugged your eyes and took a bite of your pancakes in response.

“You always say that,” you rightly claimed, “and we always buy you gifts anyway- it’s practically tradition”.

You had a point, there.

Breakfast passed by in a blur of conversation, dad jokes, and present unwrapping.  And just like that, Spencer was the owner of new books to pass his time on the jet, a 5k puzzle you were sure he’d solve in an hour flat, and a homemade Father’s Day shirt with your children’s handprints decorating a globe, the words ’Best Dad in the WORLD!!!’ gracing the blank space.

His eyes sparkled when he saw the shirt, and you swore you’ve never been happier to call that man your husband and the father of your children.

Granted, that thought passed your mind no less than fifteen times a day, but still.

Within the hour, the four of you were out the door and on the way to the zoo, Spencer’s Father’s Day shirt proudly on display.

You drove with a grin, the radio turned off in favor of listening to your children explain today’s scavenger hunt to Spencer.  They were practically giving a word for word verbatim of what the two of you usually told them pre-scavenger hunt, all the more proof that your kids were sponges.

An equally exciting yet terrifying thought.

You were at the zoo within half an hour, your hand intertwined with your son’s while your daughter latched onto her father, everyone eager to start the scavenger hunt.

“Alright, guys,” Spencer began, “what’s our first clue?”

“Mommy can read it!” your daughter piped up and you nodded, grabbing the small pile from her hands before reading the first card of the day.

“Okay, so!  This animal has six letters in its name, and your three fun facts are: whiskers help this animal detect objects around them which helps them navigate the dark, they’re the largest rodents in North America, and when they’re in danger they slap their tail on the surface of the water” you finished your explanation and watched as Spencer’s eyes lit up in recognition, but just as you predicted he dragged the process out instead of guessing right away.

“Hm, it sounds like we should go to the rodent exhibit first!” He proclaimed, and your kids nodded, walking in a row like little ducklings to the exhibit.

The four of you took your time looking at each of the animals, until you came face to face with the animal in question.  “Aha! I think the animal we’re looking for is a beaver,” his answer was met with cheers from both of your children, and you wrote the answer in the blank slots before continuing with the hunt.

At the end of the hour you added an electric eel, sloth bear, tiger, dama gazelle, alpaca, and degu to the list.  Eight animals down, four to go.

Which was fantastic, considering that your kids were starting to get antsy for donuts.

“Okay, guys!  Are we ready for our next animal?” You were walking hand in hand with Spencer, your kids skipping directly in front of you and eagerly shouting in affirmation at your question.

The four of you stepped to the side, and you grabbed hold of the fourth to last index card before reciting the hints.

“Alright so!  This animal is two words, seven letters in the first word and seven in the second.  They have whiskers that look like mustaches, they’re native to the southwest Amazon Basin, and they have claws on each of their toes but the big one”.

“Hmm.. I don’t know guys, what do you think?” Spencer turned to your children, smiling wide when your son giggled in response.

“We can’t tell you, Dad! It’s a secret”.

Spencer laughed, sighing in defeat as your daughter gestured for him to come closer.  He did as asked, leaning down until she able to reach his ear, “I think we should go to the monkey exhibit!”

Her not so quiet whisper brought a smile to both yours and Spencer’s faces, and a grimace to your son’s but to the monkeys you went, where you came face to face with an Emperor Tamarin.

From there you crossed a Von der Decken’s Hornbill and an Eld’s Deer off your list until you had one animal left.

“Alright, my love- last one! This animal is two words, three letters in the first one and five in the second.  They mainly eat bamboo, their fur acts like a camouflage when they climb in trees, and they live in temperate forests in the Himalayas,” you finished your spiel with a quick eyebrow raise towards your children, both of which were not so discreetly pointing at the red panda exhibit just a few feet away.

“Is it a red panda?” Spencer asked, giving both your kids high fives when they jumped up and down in excitement.

“Yay Daddy, you got it! And guess what all of the first letters spell? Best dad ever!” your daughter jumped into his arms and Spencer chuckled, spinning her around and laying a gentle kiss on her head.

“Is that so?” he asked, “you three are too nice to me”.

Truthfully, you didn’t think it was possible to be too nice to Spencer.

“How about our last surprise for Daddy now, my loves?” your question was met with enthusiasm from your little family, and you were back in your car and on your way to Spencer’s favorite bakery in ten minutes flat.

As you pulled up to the bakery, two eager children and one extremely happy father made plans as to what donuts they were going to eat.

It was decided that Spencer would get a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles, your son would get a glazed donut, and your daughter would get jelly.

And you? You had every intention to get your favorite too, but above all you were just happy that another amazing Father’s Day was in the books for Spencer.

The seventh of many.

***

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[sunder-soul]

first of all your work is AMAZING- like damn that smut? 👀 but anyway- i’ve had this concept for awhile imagine that reader was the one who made the design for the dark mark for tom riddle? like y/n is an artist and likes to draw, paint, all that jazz, and she saw the symbol in like her dreams or something and decided to draw it. and then tommy boy sees it and takes a liking to it like, “...i could use that-“ i don’t if this is a weird ask or not but i thought it was interesting. 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

So this has been in my inbox for so long bc I just couldn’t crack how I wanted to tackle it and then yesterday BOOM I had an idea so here I am!! Hope you enjoy  💖

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. 

Consume

Summary: Reader looks into Tom Riddle’s tea leaves on an unlucky day in Divination. Something looks back.

Word count: 1.5k

Content warning: none.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

You’ve heard of the domino effect before, but never has it been so grimly demonstrated to you than in that exact moment standing in front of the entire Divination classroom with the only spare seat left opposite Tom bloody Riddle.

It started (or at least, as far as you can tell) an entire week earlier when you’d walked in on Ophelia Greengrass sobbing in the fourth-floor girl’s bathroom during second period. Up until then you’d not spoken more than half a dozen words to Ophelia across your entire time at Hogwarts, but it had felt wrong not to say anything – and as it turned out, Ophelia had been in dire need of someone saying something to her. She’d been dating Lestrange for a little over three months and by the sounds of it things were not going well.

So of course you’d comforted her as best you could but it was hardly surprising when she tentatively approached again you the next day, and the next, and the next, and then every single day for an entire week there had been a new horror story until yesterday you’d finally had enough and told her that she should break up with him.

That, of course, was why he’d confronted you in the corridor that morning on the way to Charms, angrily accusing you of losing him his girlfriend. And that was why you and Lestrange had been caught by Peeves with a watering can full of Bulbadox juice brandished gleefully in his spindly hands.

Which was how you both ended up in the hospital wing for the entirety of first period, Lestrange with boils all over his face and down his back, and you with them on your hands from where you’d managed to shield yourself.

You’d left Lestrange behind complaining loudly as the matron peeled back his school shirt, sprinting all the way up to the Divination tower at breakneck speed, throwing the trapdoor to the classroom open and scrambling inside, the trapdoor falling shut behind you, the very final domino.

“Sorry I’m late, Professor,” you gasp as you spin around to face her. “Peeves caught me and Lestrange!”

The class snickers.

“That’s quite alright, quite alright…” Cassandra Trelawney says, deep and ringing, “we have not yet started, take a seat with Mr Riddle and we shall begin…”

You freeze. Riddle…?

That’s when it hits you.

Lestrange always sat with Riddle in Divination.

And you’re so late that everyone else already has partners.

You turn to see Tom Riddle sitting at the back of the room looking at you with a polite but blank expression on his face. The class giggles again. The vast majority of Hogwarts students are at least somewhat in love with Riddle – beautiful, intelligent, polite Riddle, orphaned and poor but refined and successful. Better yet he barely speaks to anyone, leaving a lot of empty space of endless possibility for people to fill in with their personal daydreams.

He scares you.

Those horrible boys that hang around him remind you of flies hanging around rotting meat. And if they’re the flies, that makes Riddle…

You grit your teeth and step forward, weaving between the other tables and snickering students to take your seat, dropping your bag to the floor and eyeing the tea set on the small table apprehensively.

“Begin your readings!” Trelawney calls.

You frown and turn to Riddle questioningly. “We’re doing tea leaves?”

“Tasseography,” he corrects smoothly, leaning forward and picking up the burnished copper pot with one hand and pouring steaming tea into the little china cup in front of him.

You blink at him silently. There’s something manufactured about his face that you can’t put your finger on.

“Shall I go first or would you like to?” Riddle asks casually, pouring you a cup, too.

“I don’t mind,” you mumble, looking away.

Riddle sets the pot down and picks up his cup in long, elegant fingers, lifting it to his lips. “The instructions are on page seventy-nine,” he says after taking a sip, looking around the room disinterestedly.

You pull out your book and find the right chapter and scan the first few paragraphs as Riddle finishes his tea, sipping absently at your own, and by the time he finally hands you his cup your heart rate has finally returned to normal from running up eight flights of stairs.

“You have a scattered-type formation,” you say, checking it against the diagram on your page, “and it’s north-west oriented.”

“Mhmm,” Riddle says noncommittedly, his dark eyes level on the parchment before him as he takes notes.

You lean forward over Riddle’s cup and frown as you compare it to the pictures in the book. “That looks like shepherd’s crook,” you say, pointing to a cluster shaped like a pinched hook, “which means… either the responsibility to protect, or the exertion of power and authority over a group of people.”

Riddle scoffs very lightly, his lips curling into a slight smirk as he continues to write.

Something about it had clearly struck a chord with him, but you pointedly train your eyes back on your book. “Oh,” you frown, checking his cup again. “Or it’s the old glyph for seven.”

Riddle stops writing. You look up curiously at the sudden lack of his quill scratching evenly on his parchment to find him perfectly still, his eyes on your face. “Seven?” he repeats, tone distinct.

You nod and push your book around to show him. “The number seven used to be drawn like that, too.”

Riddle’s eyes drop to the page and linger there for a moment before he resumes taking his notes – though his expression is much more preoccupied than before.

But something in Riddle’s cup has caught your eye. Beside the shepherd’s crook/number seven is a lump of tea leaves so distinct in form that it’s almost comical – the round of the cranium, the square of a mandible, and gaps in the leaves to indicate two eye sockets.

“Oh,” you say in surprise, pulling your book back around. “Wow, that’s pretty clearly a…”

You trail off, frowning. You’ve noticed the tea leaves below it, the long twisting trail that leads directly into the skull’s mouth. A cold, creeping feeling is curling in your stomach as something about the image before you seems to move, you can almost see the thing writhing, it almost looks like a…

“How are we going?” Trelawney asks, suddenly right beside you.

You jump, looking up at her in panic. “Fine,” you say quickly.

She lifts her brows, assessing you thoughtfully. “Hmm,” she says, before glancing at Riddle. “And you?”

“Fine,” Riddle echoes smoothly. But he’s not looking at Trelawney.

He’s looking at you.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The image worms into your thoughts like a deep root, twisting into places you don’t expect to find it and spreading itself out more and more. The dreams are first, and then the nightmares, and finally the night terrors. The skull hovers before you, its pitch, hollow eyes bore into you, the snake coiling endlessly with its fangs yawning wide.

Something about it is cold and evil, some sort of strange perversion of an ouroboros, the eternal snake broken by the skull’s mouth.

Consuming it.

“What is that?”

Your head snaps up from your parchment feeling like you’ve just been jolted awake from a deep sleep, and it takes you a second to process the sight of Tom Riddle before you, his eyes fixed attentively on the parchment strewn on top of the essay you’re supposed to be writing.

He’d caught you drawing it for the hundredth time.

“Nothing,” you say hastily, sliding it away under a book. “Just a doodle.”

Riddle’s eyes flick to yours. There’s a cold rigidity to his expression that you don’t like. It’s a coldness that feels horribly familiar.

For a moment you almost think he’s going to force you to show him, but after a long moment Riddle looks away and he’s gone, disappearing off further into the library. You exhale in relief and pull out the parchment again.

Drawing it made the thoughts go away for a bit, like manifesting the horrible thing distracted it from its need to live in your head. You lift your quill and carefully write a single word next to the skull.

Consume.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The parchment goes missing the next day.

You never prove that he took it, never even mention it to him, but Riddle’s eyes have a cold glimmer to them when he catches your eye in Divination next, the smallest curl to his lips like he’s daring you to bring it up.

The dreams abruptly stop.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

When you see it next, it’s in a photo on the front page of the Daily Prophet beneath a terrified headline, a spectre hovering just like it had in your nightmares at school years prior. Except this time it’s real. This time it’s above the burning remains of the family home of a prominent Muggle-born politician and Voldemort’s name is a shadow on everyone’s lips.

You stare at it on the page, the snake writhing in ink, the black, hollow eyes of the skull, and you think about Tom Riddle’s cold smile watching you from across the classroom, his manufactured beauty, the boys that hung around him like flies around rotten meat.

He’s named it the Dark Mark.

[gumnut-logic]

Alan was bored.

It wasn’t often that he found himself with a lack of things to do. Life was generally busy with Thunderbird maintenance, rescues and backup duties.

Of course, he could always kill some zombies, but he was feeling restless. Gordon was off the island with Grandma so that didn’t help. Scott was buried in paperwork and John was still hiding on Five. Virgil had disappeared.

Wandering out onto the balcony, Alan eyed the pool a moment before throwing the idea out. Without Gordon it wouldn’t be anywhere near as much fun.

Maybe he could go for a walk. Scott had been nagging him to get into a more regular exercise routine and, hey, he hadn’t seen the other side of the island for a while.

Darting up to his rooms, he threw on some loose clothes, decent shoes and a hat. A quick note to John to say where he was going and he was out the back door and crunching gravel up the side of the mountain.

While he had no objection to the great outdoors, Alan had no particular preference for sun, surf or bush walking. Not that he didn’t love a splash in the ocean with his brother, or even a jog around the island with Scott, it was just that many of his interests lay in the confines of the virtual world.

Or space.

Part of him didn’t want to admit he was like Johnny, but he was in many ways, but where John adored seclusion, Alan loved people. Basically, Alan was happy doing pretty much anything as long as it was with someone, preferably someone he loved.

So, he would really be lying if he said he took his route at random. It wasn’t a conscious decision, more just what he knew was going to happen regardless.

Virgil had some favourite places on the island to sit and just be. Alan didn’t quite get it any more than he got John’s love of solitude, but he knew his brother liked it and he stored the information for when it was needed.

Today Alan wanted company, so he used the information he had at hand.

Clambering around on the rocky island was not for the faint-hearted. There was no doubt that he was getting a good workout just by going for a simple walk. His first stop was a small cliff beyond Thunderbird Two’s runway. It was Virgil’s favourite, just on the other side of the mountain. He could often be found here just staring out into the ocean thinking who knew what. The scene had been painted, scribbled and, in one case, mosaicked onto a table. This was definitely Virgil’s favourite place.

He wasn’t there.

But Alan still had his list.

Two more Virgil spots proved empty and Alan had managed to work up quite a sweat. He was beginning to wonder why he was even bothering when he caught sight of a figure almost completely hidden in a grove of palm trees.

Virgil sat on a rock, his sketchpad on his lap, completely absorbed in his art. He was up a cliff overlooking a good chunk of the island, the twin peak at an angle even Alan could appreciate.

Alan eyed the climb and with a deep breath began the trek to reach his brother. He kept quiet. The last thing he wanted to do was disturb him. That would be a good way to get his head ripped off. But if he approached from just the right angle, he should be able to see what Virgil was actually drawing.

It took actual rock climbing in a couple of places, but Alan eventually found himself situated behind his brother on top of the cliff, and as expected the view was breathtaking.

It was late afternoon and the entire side of the island was lit up by the sun. Gulls were wheeling in the air above the forested slopes, catching rising air. Far below, raw Pacific collided with the rocky shore in places and wrangled with reefs in others.

Virgil had certainly found a spot.

Quietly Alan made his way closer to his brother. Virgil drew on, showing no sign of knowing Alan was there. The cliff was a slope that had Alan descending towards his brother. Virgil was facing away towards the scenery, slightly hunched as he drew. Because of that slope, Alan was actually able to see his brother’s hand, this time his right, sketching pencil lines on the paper.

For a moment Alan was content to simply watch, but if he was honest with himself, he hadn’t come all this way just to spy on his brother.

“You do know it is rude to stare.”

Virgil’s voice was always soft yet possessed a strength that could be startling. Alan stiffened, annoyed at being caught so easily.

“What? Do you honestly think all that rock clambering would go unnoticed?”

“Dunno.”

His brother had yet to look up at him, simply continuing to sketch as he spoke. You gonna come and sit down?” Virgil held up a hand. “Just be very quiet, I don’t want you to disturb them.”

Alan frowned. “Who?”

But that hand didn’t answer, just beckoned him over.

Alan did what he was told and found himself sitting on that rock beside his older brother.

Virgil was scratching lines furiously onto the page, but the subject wasn’t what he expected. All that beautiful scenery and Virgil was drawing a haphazard pile of sticks?

Whispered. “They’re sea eagles. I’ve never been so close.”

Alan’s eyes darted from the sketchpad to a slither of rock a stone’s throw away from the edge of the cliff. The pinnacle stood alone and defied gravity almost to the point of disbelief. On its very top sat a huge nest. From this angle he could see the two chicks waiting for their parents to return.

Breathed out quiet. “Cool.”

Virgil was sketching madly and under his practised hand, one of the chicks slowly came to life. Simple line instinctively placed, shaded and shaped. It was a little mesmerising.

Alan, of course, had watched Virgil draw before. Amongst all the other things. His brother was usually fiddling with something. He had to have something in his hands, whether it was a pencil or paintbrush, piano or Thunderbird, Virgil tended to always have something playing between his fingers.

When Alan was little there had been many a Kansas winter night snuggled up by the fire, curled up beside his brother watching him draw. Sometimes he would dare him to draw outrageous things like Pedro the Peanut-Killing Pickle. There had been odd stories and scribbled down comics. Alan had even tried his hand under a little encouragement from his brother, but he didn’t have the enthusiasm that Virgil had for the art.

Besides, Alan was quite happy to just sit and watch. Rare quiet moments shared with his artistic brother.

They had been getting rarer and rarer.

“Can I sit with you, Virg?”

A brown eye with an arched eyebrow peered at him. “You’re already sitting.” The curve of a smile. “But sure. Just be quiet and don’t make any sudden moves.”

Respectfully whispered. “Okay.”

So, they sat for an unknown length of time. Virgil drew the second chick, and as one of the parent birds landed with the evening meal, its strong wings, talons and beak appeared on the page. Alan watched as the pencil lines grew darker, surer. Virgil switched pencils and they grew darker still, the birds emerging out of the page into three dimensions.

Down below the two chicks guzzled food from their parent.

A loud, awkward screech from above and another eagle was circling overhead, likely the other parent.

In the corner of the page, the bird quickly appeared, wings spread wide, soaring.

The quiet was amazing. Alan wasn’t one to sit still for any length of time, so perhaps he was missing the obvious, but the sound of Virgil’s pencil, the tease of the breeze and the call of the eagle above had only to compete with the waves far below and the rustle of the scrappy forest.

And a pair of squawking, complaining eagle babies.

Gordon would probably have loved this. His fish brother loved the sea, but he loved all the creatures contained in it even more. Despite this preference for water breathers, if you shoved a puppy or a panda in front of him, the man melted into a gooey puddle. Eagle babies would definitely be on the goo list.

“This is nice, Allie.”

“What?”

“Bit like old times, you sitting and watching me draw.”

Alan shrugged. “I’ve always liked to watch you draw. Guess we haven’t had as much time lately.”

The pencil paused. “Yeah.” His brother turned to look at him. “Well, it is good to see you out here. Nice to have your company.” A gentle smile.

“Anytime, bro. Kinda nice out here anyway.”

That smile grew a little before softening. “Well, unfortunately we have to head back now.”

“What?”

“I’ve got to pick up Gordon and Grandma.”

Alan checked his watch. Where the hell had the time gone? He’d been out here…three hours! “Wow, didn’t expect it to be so late.”

Virgil didn’t comment, just smiled a little more as he packed up his sketchbook and pencils.

Alan stood up and stared out across the ocean. A flicker on the surface of the water and he caught sight of a pod of dolphins frolicking in the swell. He stared.

“It’s amazing what you can see if you stop and look.” His brother’s soft voice so close to him made him jump.

“Virg, personal space.”

His brother snorted and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I don’t think such a thing exists on this island.” That smile again. “Probably why John hides on Five.”

Alan grinned. “You’ve got a point.” And despite his earlier protest, he dropped his head against Virgil’s shoulder and for just a few more moments, they both tracked the dolphins as the cavorted past the Island.

“Can we do this again?”

“Sure.” Virgil slung his pack over his shoulder.

“Great.”

Silence fell, and they stood there a moment longer until Virgil squeezed a little and let go. “C’mon, sprout, time to clamber down the mountain.”

Virgil took the first few steps and Alan followed, throwing one last glance back at the nest now full of the entire family of sea eagles. A sharp beaked head turned in his direction and glared at him.

Alan couldn’t help but smile at the bird before he hurried after his brother.

-o-o-o-

[sometipsygnostalgic]

adventure time wizard city liveblog

 well here we go

my last adventure time liveblog, i havent actually done one of these in MANY years... probably not since 2014

this takes place at the same time as obsidian?

DID-- DID CHOOSE GOOSE JUST DIE

DID BUFO JUST KILL CHOOSE GOOSE

yeah i know that’s bufo, they only made it enormously obvious, tsk tsk

@spaceacepearl​ joked about us seeing choose goose get sent to hell but i diDNT EXPECT IT TO HAPPEN

This music is i assume by one of the many musical artists Adam Muto listed on twitter, it rocks. It’s not as hardcore as Obsidian’s intro, but it’s suitably chill for the scene. 

“get offa my bus kid”

Those wizards in the left and far right groups appear to be new! 

OH MY GOD--

HELP?????? NEW PROFILE PIC TIME

HAHAHAHAH

THE MUSICAL CON DID ME GOOD, I DID REALLY LOUD AUDIBLE LAUGHTER

i bet hanna and co had fun making these signs

my favourite is the cat with “FAMILIARS HAVE RIGHTS”

cadorka..... wow

We’re not even four minutes into the ep and peppermint butler has already killed someone in front of a large group of witnesses

“this smells of DARK MAGIC” “yall kids know thats illegal right” peps watches the other kids nod before later joining in, LOL

i cant believe pep started the great gum wars and got killed by golb

SOMEONE has been playing Overwatch... 

i-- i still cant believe choose goose is fucking dead

how long was he stuck in hell for, or was that recent to together again after new death showed up 

i have to admit im not a big fan of spader, too perfect, and not in that funny way either. i hope they give him some characteristics that make him stand out. 

im getting flashbacks to OK KO and Owl House here...

Cadebra using music is a reference to Abracadaniel’s love of interpretetive dance in Play Date. 

“they only laugh because youre different” “i know” “SO STOP BEING DIFFERENT” oh my god it’s like talking to my own parents cadebra is actually... a LOT like me, less in her hyperactivity but more in her nonchalant enthusiasm and almost acceptance of the inevitable bullying because it means more time in people’s consciousness

ahhh - it’s quietly revealed here that she is responsible and a skilled magician, she is just bored of magic! i like that she parents abracadaniel instead of being downtrodden by his ramblings. 

PEP NO--- oh i see the problem, he hasn’t got his Bug Milk... sorry Martin Olsen fans, no Hunson today. At least we get one more Phil Face for the road! 

candy people in their natural habitat

Ahhh that’s Doctor Calidoneus! The voice actor was at the recent Distant Lands panel alongside Pep and Blaine’s actors. 

“pretty sure hes just trashcandy” - i like you, sassy antler lady

the mystery of how he gets clothes

and once again spader is proving to be the most irritating distant lands character of the lot, there is no subversion here. where is the subversion?  

NANI

what is going on here? are pep and peppermint the same person or not? im sure they must be, but there is something going on here with peppermint butler’s soul being trapped in the body of his child self who hasn’t got the same memories. 

OH, HYNDEN WALCH DID A NEW LINE yes this is what im here for, special over 

peppermint butler cursed himself... of course he did - Shado was correct!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA WHAT THE FUCK

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK

ROCK STUDENT, BLESSED ROCK STUDENT, WAS THAT POOR GUY WHO LOOKS LIKE A JAWBREAKER

love the reference to astral plane, of course pep cant astrally project because cursed pep is still inside of him 

wow, blaine, wow

they have a crush

LITTLE DUDE! COLE SANCHEZ!

i love the dynamic between cadebra and abracadaniel, imo so far it’s the heart of the special. im not really gripped by peppermint butler’s school troubles. i imagine someone else probably will be but i want to run past that shit as far as possible. 

TRDGFYGHJH

WE

WE MADE  A PREDICTION THAT WAS JUST LIKE THIS

PEPPERMINT BUTLER GETTING TURNED INTO THE FOUR COMPONENTS OF PEPPER MINT BUTT LURE WAS IN THE WIZARD CITY PREDICTIONS ART DRAW THAT HASNT BEEN POSTED YET

ILL SHOW YOU WHEN NICK POSTS THE VIDEO and then ill tell you who made the prediction because i... think it was nick himself, insanity 

who plagiarized finn’s signature???

turns out pep really DID take over wizard city!!!!

i love this band

i understand your pain peps

you probably have a bit too much in common with your mother, and i imagine it isn’t easy being turned into a kid and not being able to do stuff that came so easy. you’re disappointing yourself! (he’s literally disappointing himself)

I’m less than halfway through the special, what the fuck. I wasn’t wrong when I said Wizard City had a lot on its plate. It’s noit that I’ve been particularly gripped up to this point, though to be fair I didn’t pause at all during the other specials barring Obsidian. 

that... that poor kid is still a rock

and then the preview happened and bufo casually revealed to the audience that, yes, he killed choose goose

i dont know whats happening with pep but it seems he needs to be exorcised of... pep. which is a shame. i hope they learn to coexist. 

i have to say the background work in this special is really good! like, really damn good. 

WH

WHAT

DID SPADER JUST DIE

IS THIS WHY PEOPLE THINK PEPBUT KILLED HIM 

oh thats right - abracadaniel is cadebra’s uncle! this must be abracadniels sister. sorry, folks, he doesn’t fuck. 

Where are they? Is this anywhere near Wizard City? It’s an unpopulated prewar wasteland. 

THESE ARE JUST HUMANS

OF COURSE SHE WANTS TO PERFORM TO MILQUETOAST HUMANS

my child

is this an art style choice or did they get the people from that one studio to make this

HANNA FINALLY GETS TO FULFIL HER DREAM OF INSERTING KANEDA INTO ADVENTURE TIME

the red jacket he wears and his head pill shape is a big kaneda reference actually, which i suppose makes sense considering he’s a rival to our protagonist, but it’s a bit on the nose

bufo killed one of his own students? but why????

“MY UNCLE’S A COP”

“no one likes a rat”

i actually really like blaine, though im confused. did their VA change halfway through the special?

HOW NATURAL, NO WASTE, IT IS AN ENDLESS CHAIN

did doctor caledonius steal the trophy,,,? 

EVIL SNAIL EVIL SNAIL

MONMSTER HUNJTER DISCOVERY NOISE, this time it’s a tetsucabra

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I HAVE QUESTIONS

god i wish this is what this special was about, i miss adventure time

these remind me of the comics with their art style :) i wonder who designed them? the one on the right with pb and pep, in particular, very comics-y. 

fdgfhgf because he’s like 500

“pep can be kind of a jerk but he wouldn’t kill anyone”

sorry, cadebra, i have news for you

is doctor calednoius the true villain? if bufo’s out of the picture, she MUST be, 

ANTS

oh no, he might gbe stuck in wizard city :( 

HELP

the writing on the wall...

SPADER LITERALLY FUCKING DIED OH YM JESUS CHRIST

PEPPERMINT BUTLER’S OWN CULT????

THIS IS JUST OK KO NOW

okay im not surprised all the teachers at wizard city are cultists in worship of peps, maybe they killed spader and bufo because they bullied peps T_T

wait no, they thought spader had the potential, but sadly not

HE FUCKING KILLED HIMSELF

sorry, i was distracted by the pretty dope fight sequence and now the special is over????

fucking jesse, hes probably at least partly responsible for the cult nonsense

This credits art is by Maya Petersen!!!! Holy shit it’s adorable!

LRETGFDRGTFGMHGFHFG

LEAF MAN

DO YOU THINK THEY PUT HIM IN RETROSPECTIVELY

DO YOU THINK MAYA PETERSEN DREW THIS AND ADAM PUT IT IN THE EP RETROSPECTIVELY

HE LIVES

MAYBE THIS IS WHY CHOOSE GOOSE WENT TO HELL

okay, it’s over :) 

first thoughts out of the way: not a big fan of this special. it’s like watching a completely different show. it’s not got the PZSHAHH of the normal wizard city stuff and there weren’t a lot of funny jokes or even hearty moments in the thing. 

it suffers from a lack of invested character interactions, much like BMO did. there was not a single main cast member in the whole thing! and like i said before, much of peppermint butler’s character in the show is based on his very sweet relationship to his mother, princess bubblegum, so when they showed a single (hilarious) photo of them together it made me sad we didn’t get any scenes with them together. it would have STOLEN this episode. and they teased the hunson golf photo, and death!!! and jake appeared in a photo T_T last jake appearance. 

it also suffers because Peppermint Butler is clearly not himself, imo he was way more entertaining in the Together Again special, where we seem him back to his “normal” self. 

i dont think peps being a dark wizard was something to “kill off” exactly. i wonder what was going on there? was that actually peps, or was that a spirit he cursed himself with based on himself? we at least know in the future he does become a dark wizard again, and even princess :) this special didn’t answer those questions but lol. 

THE GOOD STUFF, because yes, there was a lot of good stuff! 

God, I’m with Aracle and Maya on this - I LOVE Cadebra and her relationship to Pep. I wish she was even in more of this - I would love to watch the adventures of Cadebra and Pepbut in their first year of school, like in the end credits.

That, imo, is where the heart of the special lay - Peppermint Butler’s attempts to impress himself, versus Cadebra’s self acceptance and desire to follow her dreams of being a goofy goober, no matter what other people thought of her. 

It turned out that Cadebra is a responsible student and family member. I really liked that. Her scenes with Abracadaniel were, somehow, my favourite in the entire special! 

I like that theres a lot of cool magic towards the end of this special, and a lot of HORRIFYING DEATH. It wouldn’t be adventure time if you didn’t randomly kill off child characters. Poor Spader, I hated you but damn, what a grim fate. 

I like that Bufo and Caledonius had this crush/hatred thing going on, but they were part of the same cult in the end. 

I didn’t like the giant peps scene at the end, the monster was extremely milquetoast compared to the madness we usually get in AT. Obsidian, for example, had the awesome Larvo design. Nemesis had some INSANE dark magic!!!!  I wish they drew more from that episode. 

Considering how much Steve Little appears in this special, I do feel bad for Mace (little Peps). He said he would have really benefitted from coaching, but recieved none. He had to re-record his lines 3 times! Judging from his description of events, Wizard City was a hard time for him. 

The wizard school did remind me, heavily, of both The Owl House and OK KO. Personally I was hoping AT would offer me something more insane, but I do love both of those shows, and I know Wizard City was on a really tight schedule. 

I think they should have spent less time on the school bullying plot, and skipped straight to MURDER. 

We did have a cold opening, not on par with Together Again’s at all, but damn!

I am wondering where I would put this in the watch list? I do think it should sit after Obsidian as the third special. The intro scene makes it clear this takes place at the same time as Obsidian!!!

Well, that was it, the last ep of AT for the next few years at least T_T

i think together again was the better finale, definitely. but wizard city feels pretty detached from AT for me, despite the familiar characters it tonally isn’t like the show other than the awesome brutal death scenes. I thought the last 11 minutes was easily the best in the special! Which, honestly, is how it should be, though I do wish it gripped me more. Maybe I’m just not the target audience for Wizard City? It feels like something I would find very compelling if I was a bit younger! 

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

Back at it again with my self-indulgent comic posts. This time! It’s Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow #3, perhaps the most tonally-distinct entry yet, with shades of The Twilight Zone. 

Spoilers!

So, as mentioned, this issue is the most deliberate in terms of both its pacing and its tone, IMO.

What is that tone, you ask?

To quote Alex Danvers, from “Midvale”: Hello, darkness.

THE STORY:

Kara and Ruthye are still looking for Krem Clues in the alien town of Maypole.

(Which is actually just Small Town, USA, complete with vintage 50s aesthetics.)

But the locals are clearly hiding something! So Kara and Ruthye continue to investigate, and they eventually discover what it was that the residents of Maypole were so keen to keep hidden. 

Genocide, basically. 

As I said, this issue struck me as very Twilight Zone; a genre story involving the build-up to a dark twist, all set against the backdrop of an idyllic small town. (Think, like, “The Monsters are Due on Maple Street” but instead of focusing on the Red Scare, it’s classism and racism.)

The wealthier blue aliens kicked all of the purple aliens out of town, and when space pirates showed up to pillage and plunder, the blue aliens made a deal with them: the lives of the purple aliens in exchange for their safety.  

Which is where the episodic story connects to the larger mission; it was Krem who suggested the trade, and then joined up with the Brigands (space pirates) when he was freed by the blue aliens.

The issue ends with no tidy resolution to the terrible things Kara and Ruthye discovered, but they do have a lead on where to find Krem, now, as well as Barbond’s Brigands.

KARA-CTERIZATION:

Ironically, it’s here, in the darkest chapter yet, that we get the closest to what might be considered ‘classic’ Kara. 

Which I think comes down to that aforementioned deliberate pace--this issue is a little slower, a little quieter. It gives the characters some room to breathe.

That’s not to say Crusty Kara is gone. Oh no. She is still very much Crusty. XD 

But anyways. A list! Of Kara moments I loved!

I mentioned a few of these in a prior post when the preview pages came out: I like the moment where Kara blows down the guy’s house of cards, and I like that the action is echoed later in the issue when she grabs the mayor’s desk and tosses it aside. A nice visual representation of the escalation of Kara being, like. Done with these creeps. (Creeps is an understatement but you get the idea.)

Another one from the preview pages: Kara explains to Ruthye that her super hearing won’t necessarily help her detect a lie, especially if she’s dealing with an alien species she’s not familiar with.

It not only reveals her level of competence and understanding of her super powers, it also shows that, you know. She’s a thinker. She’s smart. 

Amazing! Showing, rather than telling us, that Kara is smart! Without mentioning the science guild at all wow hey wow.

(Sorry, pointed criticism of the SG show fandom.)

Anyways.

I dig the PJs! 

And Kara catching the bullet! Not only are the poses and character acting great, it’s also a neat bit of panel composition:

We start with Ruthye’s POV, and then move to the wide shot of the room. The panel where Kara actually catches the bullet is down and to the side of the wide shot panel--we move our eyes the way her body/arm would have to move to intercept the bullet. Physicality in static, 2D images!

Also, like. It’s a very tense moment, life-or-death, but. Ruthye’s wide-eyed surprise at the bullet in Kara’s hand? Kind of adorable. 

I was pretty much prepared for the page of Kara shielding Ruthye from the gunfire to be the highlight--it was one of the first pages King shared and I was like, ‘yeah, YEAH.’ But, shockingly? The TRUE highlight of the issue?

Where do I BEGIN?!?!

EVERYTHING. About this moment. Is lovely.

From Kara holding Ruthye above the bench to explaining the concept of a piggyback ride, to telling her:

“I’m going to hold my hands here, and these hands can turn coal into diamonds, so they’re not going to let go. I’m going to keep you safe.”

HNNNNNNNNNNNG.

Ruthye’s narration--about how Kara had avoided flying as she was concerned it would freak Ruthye out--just adds a whole additional layer of YES, GOOD, YES, and her line on that splash page is great: “You see, all that time, she was worried about me.”

HNNNNNNNNNNNG. AGAIN.

To say nothing of the STELLAR ARTWORK.

And SPEAKING of that stellar artwork, Evely and Lopes continue to knock it out of the park. Each issue is distinct and beautifully crafted, a true joy to look at.

Before I jump into more of the art, a few final notes of character stuff in general.

Ruthye is the one most affected by the experience in Maypole, as she can’t comprehend how a society of people that look so nice and gentle and peaceful could have been party to such a horrible act.

One of the big criticisms of the book thus far is that Supergirl is not the main character, and I guess I can agree with that observation. Typically, in Western media, the main character is the one who goes through the most change in the story. 

And, yeah. That’s Ruthye.

As I was reading the end, where Ruthye sits on the curb and Kara hugs her, I was imagining how the scene would’ve played, had King stuck with the original idea for the series: Kara as the one learning to be tough/experiencing all of this for the first time, and while I think that could certainly work...

I continue to appreciate that King literally flipped the script; that Kara, especially in this issue, is like, ‘I’ve seen this, I know this,’ as opposed to being the one going through a loss of innocence.

*Marge Simpson voice* I just think it’s neat!

Because Kara’s been a teen in DC comics for so long--ever since she was reintroduced to the main DCU continuity, actually--so this is all brand new territory, here. Having an older Kara who’s SEEN SOME STUFF.

(Alsoooooo, since Bendis made the destruction of Krypton not just inaction and climate disaster, but rather, genocide, and the subtext of a Kryptonian diaspora text, the waitress’ derogatory comment regarding the the destruction of Kryton, as well as Kara picking up the bad vibes the entire time, suggests not just a broad commentary on discrimination in all its forms, but specifically allegorical anti-Semitism. The purple aliens being forced out of their homes and into substandard living conditions, then the blue aliens--their neighbors and once-fellow residents--essentially allowing the space pirates to kill them, making them literal scapegoats, Kara discovering the remains of the purple aliens, and Ruthye’s horror at the ‘banality of evil’...yes. A case could be made, I think.) 

(Which would probably require a post unto itself and a lot more in-depth discussion, nuance, and cited sources.)

(Should mention that King has brought up that both he and Orlando--the other Supergirl writer he talked to--are Jewish, and for him personally, that shaped his views on Kara’s origin story.)

I guess my point is that this issue is perhaps not as out-of-left-field as some might think, and just because there isn’t as obvious an arc for Kara, doesn’t mean there isn’t some sharp character work at play. 

(I could be WAY OFF, of course, and I’m not suggesting it’s a clear 1:1 comparison. I’d actually really love to hear King talk about this issue in particular.)

Anyways.

Here’s the final page, which I think works, because as I mentioned before, there is no easy answer/quick wrap-up to the story of Maypole:

THE ART:

I mean. How many times can I just shout ‘ART! AAAARRRRRRRRRRRTTTT!’ before it gets old?

I dunno, but I guess we’re gonna FIND OUT.

There are some panels in this issue that I just. Like ‘em! From a purely artistic standpoint! Because they’re so good!

Like, I just really love the way Kara is drawn in that top panel. Her troubled, confused expression, the colors of the fading light, the HAIR. 

Evely draws the best hair. I know I’ve said this before. I don’t care. I will continue to say it, because it continues to be true.

The issue I find myself running up against when I make these posts is that I really don’t want to post whole pages, as that’s generally frowned upon (re: pirating etc.) but with something like this, you just can’t appreciate it in panel-by-panel snippets.

(Guided View on digital reading platforms is a BANE and a POX I say!)

Anyways.

LOVE the implied movement of the cape settling as Kara speeds in and stops. 

And, obviously, Kara flicking the bullet away is just. A+. 

And the EYES, man. LOPES’ COLORS ON THE EYES???!?! BEAUTIFUL.

Also, should note the lettering! The more rounded letters for the ‘WOOSH’ of Kara’s speed (and, earlier, the super breath) work nicely, and contrast with the angular, violent BLAMS of the gunshots. 

And, I gotta say, the editor is doing a really great job of not cluttering up the artwork with all the caption boxes. Which is no small task.

(I assume the editor is placing them, as editors usually handle word balloon/caption box placement, but I suppose it could be Evely? Sometimes the artist handles it. Either way, whoever’s taking care of all the text, EXCELLENT WORK! BRAVO!)

Okay I think that’s everything.

Ah, nope, wait.

MISC.

Just a funny observation, more than anything else: Superman: Red and Blue dropped this week, and King had a story in there, “The Special” (which was very good, btw.) Both Lois and the waitress swear a lot so I’m beginning to think that this is just how King writes dialogue for any adult character who isn’t Clark. XD

This is absolutely a personal preference but when Kara was like, “And my name IS Supergirl,” I was like nooooo. I know King is trying to simplify all of the conflicting origin stories and lore but I LIKE KARA DANVERS, SIR. XD

It’s almost assuredly a cash-grab/an attempt for DC to get all the money it can out of a book they don’t have much confidence in, but I like the cardstock covers! Very classy, much Strange Adventures.

(OH my gosh, can you imagine that issue 1 cover with spot gloss???? Basically the only way you could possibly improve on it.) 

Okay NOW I’m done. For real. XD NEXT TIME: Kara and Ruthye go after Krem and the Brigands!

[4awny]

Crenny fluff from Chapter 19

Craig stood up from the bed when he heard the door open.

"Sorry, prolly shoulda' knocked, but I-" Kenny stopped in mid-sentence when he saw Craig standing before him in a fitted t-shirt and shorts. "-thought you'd be expecting me." He finished slowly, using his foot to kick the door behind him. There wasn't anything about the raven that should have stood out, but when Kenny took sight of his lean thighs, there was something about him that just made him stare in absolute awe.

"Hey." Craig greeted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry for the mess."

Kenny looked around his surroundings. What mess? He thought when he saw absolutely nothing out of place. He watched as Craig picked up the empty can of Pepsi from the nightstand and throw it into the trash can. "Oh, that mess." He answered out loud and gave a chuckle. "That's your idea of mess?"

"I didn't have time to clean up. I thought you were gonna give me a heads up."

"You should see my room." Kenny muttered and then threw a thumb behind him. "Anyway, guess what? I just walked all the way from Kyle's. We counted the money. This is your half." He pulled the rucksack from his shoulder and extended his arm out.

Craig eyed the bag suspiciously, a little surprised that his friend had just carried a bunch of money on his own, in the cold. "You didn't have to walk all the way here, I would have just picked it up at a more convenient time."

Kenny had his own good reasoning. "You told me to come by. Plus, I feel bad for hitting you." He nodded to the small red mark on Craig's cheek.

"Don't worry about it." Craig shook his head like it was nothing and took the bag from Kenny's grasp. He didn't bother unzipping it to check. Instead, he dumped it to the floor and turned to his nightstand to pull out a folded piece of paper.

"Happy Birthday."

Kenny accepted the folded paper and as he opened it, his eyes lit up. It was a rough pencil drawing of Deadpool with a middle finger in the air and written in comic book font were the words, Happy 18th Birthday, McCormick. He couldn't stop the huge grin from splitting his face and he loved every detail of it, including the creases from where it had been folded multiple times.

"Wow, thank you so much, man. You really didn't have to do this." This feeling of surprise didn't falter and he pulled his eyes away from the gifted artwork to lock them onto Craig's. As if his body moved on its own, he stepped forward and on his tippy toes, he wrapped an arm around the taller male's neck, pulling him into a warm embrace.

The unusual contact came as a bit of a shock to Craig, but as he felt a second arm wrap around the other side of his neck, he found his arms snaking their way around Kenny's waist, pulling him in close.

It was usual behaviour for Kenny to give hugs, but it was not usual behaviour for it to last as long as it did. The way Craig's arm hugged tightly around his body, combined with how their torsos rested so intimately against each other, was a feeling neither of them could have ever comprehended from each other.

When Kenny pulled back, one of his hands fell to comfort against Craig's chest, with the other remaining where it was behind his neck. When Craig saw blue eyes flickering to his parted lips, he froze. He felt this nervous feeling in his chest and he wasn't sure how to recover from it. Their lips were that close to each other, Craig could feel the warm breath emitting from the blond's parted mouth. It looked as though he was waiting for something.

Is he waiting... for me? Craig wondered as he watched Kenny's eyelids lower into a mysterious, hooded gaze. His blue eyes not once leaving his lips. Craig felt this fixation, this temptation, this adoration... All of these sudden feelings swarmed his mind and it was almost like something else was taking over his entire consciousness. He had the sudden urge to pull his arms away and shove Kenny with force. The blond stumbled back, hitting the wall firmly behind him. Stunned by the abrupt push, Kenny's expression turned to panic, assuming he crossed the mark.

But as Craig stepped forward, the blond learnt that this new look in his friend's eyes was not anger. It was indeed, lust.

Kenny's eyes softened when he felt a set of fast hands cup around the sides of jaw, thumbs clenching at his cheeks. He allowed his back to push into the wall behind him and his mind fuzzled into a moment of sheer joy when Craig pressed his lips onto his.

It was a bold move to make for him, but it was leaf he had subconsciously taken from the Book of Kenny, because just for a split second, he felt himself living for the moment.

It felt right.

Kenny's idle arms found a way to move on their own and his fingers wrapped loosely around Craig's wrists. The blond always took pride in knowing how to take control in a relationship, but with Craig, he found himself lost in what to do with himself. It was easy with a woman, because the general consensus was for the male to be domineering and he had no problem with doing that. But it was Craig that appeared to be the dominating and although Kenny was totally down for it, it felt completely new to him.

Craig pulled back to see the blond's eyes flicker open. Their eyes connected for a brief second, before he leaned back in and kissed him again. One of his hands dropped to wrap around the side of his neck and the other hand slipped down to the blond's slender hip, pulling him in close enough for their lower abdomens to bump together.

"Mm, wait~" Kenny murmured into his mouth, but neither of them pulled away. "Craig, hang- hang on just a second."

Mumbling against his lips, Craig grew a little impatient. "What is it?"

"No, nothing. Ah, it's just~" A rough sound of arousal left Kenny's lips and a hand pushed at Craig's chest. "I need to tell you-"

"Spit it out, McCormick." He released the fingers that were clamped onto the blond's waist and dipped them under his flimsy jacket. When his fingers touched the small of Kenny's back, he flinched at how icy the skin was. "Fuck, what's wrong with you, why're you so cold?"

Kenny felt a sense of loss when the hands on his body abandoned their positions. "Hey, you try walking two and a half miles in the blistering winds and see how far it gets you."

"Take this off." Craig pulled on the zip of the blond's second hand jacket and backed away to the wardrobe. He shuffled through the neatly aligned and color coordinated items of clothing and stopped when he came across one of his favourite hoodies. He had to stop wearing it throughout senior year, because it was getting too small for him. Glancing over at his friend's small frame, he figured he may have found its new owner.

Kenny had already shrugged his jacket off and hung it up on the door handle by the time Craig came over with the new item of clothing. "Hm." He hummed in amusement when he saw the small NASA logo on the top left hand side. "I remember seeing you wearing that thing all the time last year."

"I miss wearing it." Craig confessed as the sweater was taken from his grasp. "It'll keep you warm, but you should really buy a coat or something. I don't wanna hear none of that I have no money bullshit, either. I don't care if you're saving it up, you've got more than enough to spend fifty bucks on a decent coat."

The blond slipped the hoodie over his head and straightened out the hem. "Yes, sir." He mocked playfully, shifting around in front of the mirror to check out his new outfit. He slicked his blond strands back and when he was satisfied with his look, he turned to face the man standing behind him. "What do you think?" He asked, extending out his arms.

Craig tilted his head to the side to study his look, but it was more of an excuse to admire his physique. Sure, he was a little malnourished, but it would only take a couple of decent meals to fill him out. But even so, he believed Kenny still looked perfect. He was clumsy, a little rough around the edges and filled with complete optimism, even on the worst of days. There was not one bad bone in the blond's body and Craig thought it was incredibly admirable.

Kenny was a good guy and only now, was he really starting to notice it.

"Looks better on you than it ever did on me." Craig admitted as he folded his arms.

"Well, you're not wrong." The blond agreed with a cheeky smile, before stepping forward. "Dayum. You weren't lying when you said it'll keep me warm, huh?" He fanned a hand in front of his neutral tempered face to pretend to cool down. "Whew, it sure is warm in here. What is that you got on, central heating or something?"

Craig rolled his eyes, but couldn't stop the smirk forming on his lips as he played into Kenny's little game. "If you're that hot, maybe you should take your sweater off."

"What? Oh, this thing?" The blond pulled at the collar. "Ah, what a great idea. I never even thought of that."

Just before he could grab at the hem, Craig's fingers got there first. "Here, let me help you."

Kenny lifted his arms in the air and when his head poked through the hole, their eyes immediately locked on to each other and the gray garment was discarded to the floor next to two pairs of socked feet. Having a floor littered with worn clothing, was always a pet peeve of Craig's. However, that thought didn't even cross his mind and if anything, it looked better on his bedroom floor anyway.

"You were saying?" Craig spoke, the comforting sound of his voice reeling the blond in with each word. "Just now, you were about to tell me something."

"I was?" Balancing on the balls of his feet and leaning in, Kenny's fixation on trying to search for whatever it was in those fair eyes had clouded his mind and he had to wait for Craig's words to catch up on him. He then remembered what he wanted to say. "Oh, I was."

"Tell me."

It wasn't that he didn't want to tell him, he just lost the nerve. Could he really just go ahead and unmask his online persona to Craig right here and now? I have to, right? No, wait. I can't. Not now. Bad time. Later. Promise. He concluded in the shortest argument in the world.

"Craig-" He whispered out, eyes darting between the left and right eye. It felt like he had been waiting for this day for an agonizingly long time. He never believed that this moment was ever going to be possible outside of his lasting daydreams and extensive fantasies. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for this?"

A twitch of confusion from the crease of his brow was a sign that Craig had been completely oblivious to these growing feelings Kenny had for him. Had it really been that long? How long was that long anyway? The thought of Kenny crushing over him while he was none the wiser was a little overwhelming. All of those times the blond would flirt with him and he would brush it off, thinking he was being mocked or played with and this whole time... it was a sign?

Have I really missed all of the signs? The thought passed through his mind as well as the memories of all of his past interactions with Kenny. It was surprising at how many memories came forth in a matter of seconds, but he didn't have the time to organize them and decipher each one, because that was going to take a couple of sleepless nights, at the very least.

"No, I really have no idea." He admitted and a small part of Kenny felt disappointed for not advancing on their friendship sooner. But then again, Craig was a confusing guy and had rejected almost every move Kenny tried to make on him, so maybe it was all to do with the right timing.

Kenny dropped his attention to the floor as his lips cracked into a bashful smile. "Nah, I didn't think you did."

Of course, Craig was insanely curious by this and was determined to know exactly how long Kenny had felt this way, but they had all the time in the world to talk about it and as of right now, he had other things on his mind.

"Alright, enough with the confessions." The taller male declared and smoothed a hand down Kenny's arm, before yanking him in close by the forearm.

Stumbling into an unexpected kiss, a soft sound of surprise escaping the blond's throat. He felt a second hand reach the side of his neck, the same way it did before and he leaned into the touch, like a purring cat.

With his body now warmed up, not only from the luxurious privilege of having quality central heating, but also from heat of Craig's hands, Kenny started to find his confidence again. He withdrew from the kiss only to grab at Craig's collar with both hands and pull his head down to his level to meet his lips. He took the parting of Craig's lips as an invitation and their tongues met in the middle. Light licking turned more ferocious with each breath they shared, silencing their thoughts and submitting to the intense arousal.

Having escaped the fierce cold from the piercing winds outside, Kenny was now facing a desperate escape from the radiating heat burning beneath his skin. He lightly pushed Craig to move back, but as the raven was too invested in his own lustful thoughts, he took the gesture as a form of rough play and gripped the hand he had on the side of Kenny's neck harder with a few of his fingernails digging into the back roots of blond hair.

"Argh." A pained hiss of pleasure escaped Kenny's lips and he could have sworn the guy had just glued razor blades to his fingers, because there was just no way anyone could have a grip that sharp.

Do that again. The words were about to slip from his mouth, but it seemed as though God was finally there to grant him his wish.

Craig's hand abandoned the neck completely after hearing that erotic sound leave Kenny's lips and snaked it into the growing length of blond hair. Still needs a haircut. He argued and made a valid point by tugging a fistful of hair back. Kenny couldn't read his thoughts, but he could feel the firm grip on the back of his head and it made him smirk with pleasure.

"I didn't think you'd be so... rough." Kenny admitted when he pulled away. He felt the firm hold on his head release and the tension was replaced with soft, inquisitive fingers.

"Your hair is soft." Craig noted as a second hand pushed back the falling strands from Kenny's forehead. "Would look better if it was short."

Kenny's attention bounced between the two eyes that were inspecting his mess of blond hair. The features on Craig's face were captivating him in every way possible. From the piercing gray eyes, to the sharp jawline, to the small horizontal scar sitting above his left eyebrow. It was barely noticeable and if he was any further away, he wouldn't have noticed it.

In the midst of wondering what kind of badass hustle Craig could have possibly gotten himself into to receive such a battle scar, he also took the comments about his hair into consideration. Kenny wasn't sentimental when it came to hairstyles and even if Craig preferred it fully shaved, he would have done just that. So with a sudden spark flashing through his mind of ideas, he came to a decision.

"Craig, can I ask- if you don't like something, what do you usually do about it?"

Still playing with Kenny's hair, he took a moment to think about it. "Give me an example, I need context."

"So like. Okay, let's say, you really wanted to go and see a local band. All your buddies are going, everyone's gonna be there, there's gonna be booze, drugs, sex. Y'know, the usual shit, right?"

"Right." Craig hesitated, wondering where the blond was about to take this.

"So one night, your ma's there. She's getting all menstrual with you, telling you, you can't go. You're all like, why the fuck not? My name's Craig Tucker, not Cuck Tucker, you get what I'm saying?" The gap Kenny left was meant for Craig to agree, but Craig didn't agree. He just halted his hand movements and watched his friend tell the story in silence. "So anyway, she starts yelling. Your dad comes home after a fourteen hour shift, he starts yelling. Your sister comes down the stairs, annoyed that her Disney Plus subscription has expired, so now she's yelling. Stripe leaves his bed for the first time that day to find no food in his bowl and guess what? He's now yelling too. Everyone's mad at each other and poor Craig is stuck in the middle. So you're all like, man! Fuck this shit, if I wanna go to a stupid party, I'm gonna go to a stupid party! Your dad turns to you and says if you leave this house, don't bother coming back! So. What do you do?"

Taking in the question, which felt more like another one of Kenny's monologues, Craig tried to express an answer in the best way he could. "Um. Well, first of all, I don't understand what relevance any of that had to do with each other. Why is Stripe getting involved?"

"Because you forgot to feed him, so he's mad?" Kenny's eyes narrowed and his eyebrows drew together, the answer being seemingly obvious to him. "I don't get how you're confused, I'd be mad too if my owner forgot to-" He quickly closed his mouth before letting the irony of what he was about to say leave his lips. "Look. This ain't about me right now. This is about you."

"You focus too much on little details." Craig noted, but it was not to criticize. He enjoyed listening to the minor details Kenny would come up with, even for the sake of a stupid story. It blossomed his creative mind, something Craig could express visually through pen and paper, but not verbally. To create color with words, he thought it was an admirable quality to have.

"Will you just answer the darn question?"

"I don't even know what the question was. Are you asking me to choose between staying home to avoid being... grounded? And miss out on the fun, or go to the party or band or whatever it was and just deal with the consequences afterwards?"

"Yeah." Kenny confirmed with a nod.

"It wouldn't matter if this is a realistic question or a hypothetical one, because you should already know the answer to this pointless question."

"There is a point to this, I swear." The blond assured.

"Okay." Craig sighed and decided to just play along. "Anyone that tells me I can't do something, I tell them to go fuck themselves and go ahead and do it anyway."

The attitude behind the words was amusing enough as it was and it was not an exaggeration. He was a man of his word.

"Interesting." Kenny mused, slipping away from the grasp and backing to the door behind him. "You know what? You, Craig Tucker, can not cut my hair. I will not allow it. There will be consequences if you decide to cut my hair." When Craig did nothing but blink at him, Kenny elaborated further. "Craig. I am refusing to let you cut my hair. Re-fu-sing. I do not consent, for reasons unknown. Get what I'm saying?"

It didn't take much longer for Craig to catch on to the silly game Kenny was playing. He couldn't understand why someone would waste so much breath for a simple question. It did not make sense to him and he should have known better, because he knew more than anyone that Kenny was a talker.

"You want me to give you a haircut?"

The grin on the blond's face dropped in an instant and he scratched a spot at the back of his head. "Yeah, we'll go with that."

Craig's lips broke into a soft smile as he sighed. "You talk too much. Would've been easier if you just asked."

"Yeah, I don't know if you're aware of this, but people usually, you know... play along?" He gestured his hands in a circular motion. "That's kinda how it works. Cartman's the worst for it, sometimes you can't tell if he's joking or being deadly serious."

"Doesn't that show you how different our friendship groups are?"

"Yeah and yours is yawn, boring. I got Kyle and Eric fighting all the time and do you know what that means for me?" He didn't even get time to respond before Kenny answered. "Front row seats, baby."

Craig rolled his eyes and found himself grateful for not having to put up with that much drama within his own squad. But then again, Clyde had already been a handful over the last few months, so maybe they were even with the drama. "Speaking of which, I presume you heard about what happened between Clyde and Cartman the other day?"

Kenny tilted his head, like a curious pup that had just learnt the command word for treat. "Something happened?"

Craig picked up the pair of scissors from the stationary cup that was on his desk and nodded his head to the door. "Come on, I'll tell you about it when I chop this goddamn mop from your head."

.Despite the negative opinions he had on Kenny's hairstyle, it would have been ironic to say that it actually started to grow on him.

The Chat Room Scandal - Chapter 19

Feel free to read the entire fic on AO3!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31878976/chapters/82834027

[awigglycultist]

Okay so I have a headcanon that Spencer and Graham meet Paul, Artie and Liam (Paul's roommate if you don't know/remember) at like comic con or some sort of convention and then become friends so uhh here's some incorrect quotes because why not

Spencer: You're a loose cannon, Paul

Paul: No, I'm not. I'm a cannon maybe, but a loose cannon? Is that what you think of me?

Liam: I think you play by your own rules

Artemis: No way, he thinks rules were made to be broken

Spencer: Those are all attributes of a loose cannon

Paul: No, I'm just a reckless renegade. Graham is a loose cannon

Graham: *smashes a chair*

---

Graham: I’m gonna need a human skull and I can't have you ask any questions why

Liam: Only if you also don't ask why

Liam: *Pulls out 7 pristine human skulls* Take your pick

Graham:

Liam:

Graham: This one is fine

---

Artemis, banging on the door: Graham! Open up!

Graham: Well, it all started when I was a kid...

Paul: No, she meant-

Spencer: Let him finish

--

Liam: There are seven chairs and ten people. What do you do?

Spencer: Have everyone stand

Artemis: Bring three more chairs!

Paul: The most important ones can sit down

Graham: Kill three

---

Artemis: Is having a penis fun?

Paul: It has its ups and downs

Graham: Sometimes it’s a little hard

Liam: It’s a pain in the ass

Spencer: Oh, Jesus, fuck, guys, come on.

---

Paul: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon?

Graham: I'm a knife

Spencer, from across the room: They're the little spoon

---

Paul: Hey, you want some leftovers?

Graham: What's that?

Paul: You've never had leftovers???

Graham: No, because I'm not a quitter.

---

Liam: Care for another sundae, weenie?

Spencer: I am not a weenie!

Paul: Relax, you’re among friends. *raises his drink*

Spencer: My friends don’t hang out at Weenie Hut Jr’s.

Graham: You tell ‘em, Spencer! *sips his drink*

Spencer: Graham, what’re you doing here?

Graham: I’m always here on Double Weenie Wednesdays

---

Spencer: We’ve been conducting an ongoing study to see what Paul will and will not eat.

Graham: Grass? Yes!

Spencer: Moss? Yes!!

Graham: Leaves? Ohh, yes!

Spencer: Shoelaces? Strange but true!

Graham: Worms? Sometimes!

Spencer: Rocks? Usually nah.

Graham: Twigs? Usually!

Spencer: Liam's cooking? Inconclusive!

Artemis: How did you… test this?

Spencer: You just hand them stuff and say ‘eat this’ and if he eats it, he eats it

Artemis: ... I don’t know how to feel about this

Liam: IS THAT WHERE ALL MY SPARE SHOELACES WENT?

Paul to Artie later: look being a half werewolf does things to you

---

Graham: Who thinks I can fit 15 marshmallows in my mouth?

Artemis: You’re a hazard to society

Liam: And a coward. DO TWENTY!

---

Spencer, setting down a card: Ace of spades

Graham, pulling out an Uno card: +4

Paul, pulling out a Pokémon card: Jolteon, I choose you

Artemis, trembling: What are we playing

---

Artemis: How did none of you hear what I just said?

Paul: I’ve been zoned out for the past two and a half hours

Spencer: I got distracted about halfway through

Graham: Ignoring you was a conscious decision

---

Spencer: It’s dark in here

Paul: Don’t worry dude I got this

Paul: *Stomps his feet*

Paul: *Skechers light up*

---

Paul: Graham isn’t answering his phone

Spencer: I’ll call

Artemis: Paul and I have both tried six times each, what makes you thi-

Graham: Hello?

---

Graham: Hey, what do IDK, LY, and TTYL mean?

Spencer: I don’t know, love you, talk to you later

Graham: Ok, I love you too, I’ll just ask Artie

---

Paul to Artemis: On the count of three, what's your favorite cake? One, two, three-

Paul and Artemis, in unison: Chocolate cake peanut butter frosting with chocolate chunks!

Graham: Our turn, Spencer! One, two, three- vanilla!

Spencer, deadpan: I've never had cake, what is cake.

---

Liam: Why are Spencer and Graham sitting with their backs to each other?

Artemis: They had a fight

Liam: Then why are they holding hands?

Artemis: They get sad when they fight

---

Spencer: Isn’t it weird that we pay money to see other people?

Paul: Plane tickets?

Liam: Concert tickets?

Graham: Prostitution?

Spencer, holding his broken frames: Glasses.

---

Graham: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Spencer: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

Graham: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING PAUL WITH ME

Artemis, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

---

Graham: You fuckers don’t know about my knife stick. It’s a knife taped to a stick and it’s the ultimate weapon.

Artemis, not looking up from her book: Spear.

Graham: BLOCKED

---

Spencer: You have to apologize to Artemis

Graham: Fine.

Graham: 'Unfuck you' or whatever

---

Spencer: There is no future. There is no past. Do you see? Time is simultaneous, an intricately structured jewel that humans insist on viewing one edge at a time, when the whole design is visible in every facet.

Paul:

Artemis:

Liam:

Everyone Else At Spencer's Surprise Birthday Party:

Graham: All I asked was if you wanted to cut your birthday cake first

---

[The group, playing DND, are in a prison cell that was just hit by an earthquake]

Paul: Uh, I'm gonna roll a perception check of... 4, and see if our cell is, uh, in any way damaged by this quake

Spencer: You're in a prison cell

Artemis: You did great. Well, I got a 10-

Spencer: You're in a prison cell with bars on it

Graham: I got a 1!

Spencer: You're in... a cube-shaped place.

---

Artemis: Welcome, idiots

Spencer: Hello, Artemis

Artemis: No, no, not you, you're not an idiot

Spencer: You underestimate me

---

Paul: If I die, my funeral is going to be the biggest party ever and you’re all invited

Spencer: If?

Graham: Great, the only party I’ve ever been invited to and they might not even die!

---

Store Worker: Would a Ms Schue-Horyn please come to the front desk?

Artemis, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem?

Store Worker, pointing to Paul and Liam: I believe they belong to you?

Paul and Liam, simultaneously: We got lost :(

Artemis: I didn’t even bring you guys here with me-

---

Paul: Liam... Why did you draw a pentagram on the floor?

Liam: Your text told me to satanize the house before you returned

Paul:

Paul: I wrote sanitize, Liam

---

Graham, after Artemis and Paul were complaining about APN: I'm gonna burn this place to the ground

Artemis: I'll show you where my desk is. You can start there

---

Graham: What's the expression? Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice... fiddle-dee-dee.

Liam: Fool me once, and I'll be fooled for a day. Teach me how to fool people and I'll be fooled for the rest of my life.

Paul: Fool me once, fool me twice, fool me chicken soup with rice.

---

Graham: Back in uni I once self medicated with a mix of NyQuil and DayQuil called QuilTM in the hopes it would manage my undiagnosed ADHD

Paul: And did that actually work?

Graham: Spencer tells me I wasn't much different than usual but, between you and me, I don't remember my entire sophomore year

---

Graham: I'll whoop their ass.

Spencer: Wait, don't! That's Artemis!

Graham: Wait, is it?

Graham: I mean, I'm still gonna do it, but is it?

---

Liam: Wow, Graham. I like seeing you get all feisty

Graham: That's the Graham way

Spencer: I thought the Graham way was a toasted bagel with grape jelly?

Graham: That's the Graham breakfast way

[delicourse]

Hi, I've got a few questions for you if you don't mind answering them

1. How long does it take you to draw a drawing digitally? Do you have any tips on drawing digitally faster?

2. How do you shade? It looks SO good and I'm in love with your artstyle and shading 🥺

3. Are you ever gonna make a webtoon?

Sorry for bothering you, hope you're healthy, and have a nice day/night 🥰💜

sorry for taking so long to answer these!! i really had to think abt the answer so it took a while! sorry if the first one ended up being an essay

1. it tends to vary depending on how well i have the artwork planned out! the thing that tends to take the longest for me is the decision-making parts (sketch and composition, base colors, and colors again once im almost done but going “ok but...what if..”) and the rest(lineart, shading, details) is basically stuff that i can go on autopilot for. so if i already know what im gonna do and somehow stick to that, an artwork can take 3-6 hours depending on size! but most of the time it can take several days of having multiple artworks up at the same time, and making small changes in each at a time until im happy enough to move on lol. so its really hard to measure the time on those since i don’t really know if going back and forth between “lime green” and “turquoise green” for 2 days counts as me actually drawing. i also have a habit of always letting the artwork “rest” for a day inbetween steps where i dont look at it to make sure im not missing any obvious mistakes. (especially at the sketch and linework stage, if they look off the entire artwork will) looking at your art with a fresh eye is really important!

when it comes to speeding up the process i think simply drawing things often enough really is the way to go. its boring but to me the fast parts are only that bc ive done it so many times i dont have to think too much when doing it! (unless im trying something new, which i have been doing lately and oh wow we sure are Thinking in this house) also i see all my artworks as a very “step by step” routine, so i try to never go back once ive completed a step. it makes just moving forward easier. since i also have several artworks up at a time; theyre almost always at different steps in the process, so if i get stuck at or bored with say, lineart, i just go to another artwork where im doing final details and just have fun with that! it makes me feel like im always making progress somwhere. also dont be afraid to just redo something entirely if it looks off. save ur canvas and open a new one and start over, its usually way faster the second time and u keep ur previous mistakes in mind so overall? its faster than to keep adjusting the same parts of the artwork over and over and never really being happy with it, at least thats how it is for me! also also also; make your own brushes for things u already know how to draw but dont wanna do by hand 50 times over. like say, the diamonds in some of my works? theyre just a confetti esque brush with a bunch of diamonds i drew the outline of. then i color them in manually and do shinies and shades but i wont have to do linework for that at least, and its still in my “style” bc i drew them! (it also lessens the feeling of “cheating” that, i at least, tend to have at not doing everything manually) ....also get over the feeling that ur cheating when ur taking shortcuts. in this house we are Professionals who know what we are doing and there should be NO shame for achieving the same results more efficiently

2. ill post some images of my coloring process soon, i dont know if it explains things too well but it is an attempt hdhsbs

3. i cant write to save my life!! all i do is pretty drawings, which i love doing, but it would rule to someday work with others to create some form of comic or webtoon or just general story that i can illustrate!

[awoken-artist]

Update on Posts! - Ive moved to another state!

so, yeah this was the biggest...first move ive ever done...

27 years [my entire life] ive lived in california..and now moved out of california to texas.. its a brand new start, im still getting stressed and anxious and..home sick for the most part now im ways away from my old home. thankfully my old house is now owned by my eldest cousin, so we can visit them anytime we visit california, if able. we plan to in july for my grandmas 80th birthday.

not only that but two of my friends are planning to move as well, but have to wait until april to do so...but it was very emotional to talk about the move cause i just wanted to cry... and they are in the same boat when it comes to the move. im happy though i get to hang out with them before leaving, same for one of my other friends too.

my friend brea and I hang out at her house, and watched some anime, but mostly just watched anime we used to watch back in middle school for old time sake. watch a bit of the FMA 03 series but i felt i wanted to watch naruto, and we did and it was my second anime obsession of mine back then and i wanted to revisit because its been way too long. yeah uh WE MADE FUN OF SAKURA AND NAURTO FOR OBSESSING OVER SASUKE AND WERE LIKE WOW XD its hilarious and poke fun at the episodes.

I hang out with my boyfriend more when nearing the end of when we will prepare to move...we hang out at night getting some ice cream after having dinner out with my parents and my boyfriend tagged along with us. it was great but lord i know i ate too much that time.

it was very emotional... we stayed at my aunts for two nights, went to my grandmothers for 3-4 nights then back to my aunts and final day staying was at our house for the final time until we get up at 4 am or 6 am to get ready and leave on the road. [yeah we drove out of cali to texas... not fun XD]

it was very very very emotional when i had to say goodbye to my aunt and uncle, especially my aunt.. she knows im emotional and got emotional herself. she plans to visit in january of next month and i cant wait when she fly on over. my grandma said she'll come to texas cause one of our family members actually lives in texas and she visits her when she can. so gives her excuse to come visit. :3

i can say even though it was emotional to a high degree with saying goodbye to my friends, and my family that im way more close with, it was very very very very hard to say bye to my boyfriend. i couldnt stop wanting to cry and my eyes couldnt stop watering at all, and the feeling of a lump in my throat kept on coming and i just wanted to cry and bawl against his chest. he knows im very emotional person, and.. a worry wart and anxious but he tells me over and over and over again hes not going anywhere and I wont lose him..

i still held onto his grandmothers ring he gave me and his two other rings as well..and the ring he bought me too [even though the rose quartz stone was being a butt staying in >:[ its the changeable stone kind] and i know i'll see him again and dayum straight im glomping the fuck out of him and cry.

i also cant wait until we finally have a house together, i dont care where it will be i cant wait for that in the future. hes my future and im his and we cant wait when the time comes with that. for now we stay in touch on discord and video chat whenever we could.

it'll be a long long journey for me, it'll take some time getting settled in the new house, but otherwise i know i'll feel this way regardless [like moving in with my boyfriend and such if you get what i mean?]

i await what happens next, i am still going to do what i love to do. draw, make art of my characters, do streaming, and more.

i also told myself that i should quit waiting or hesitating to write more of my comic i went back and forth on writing and updating for YEARS on, because i know there will be those that wont like it and will like it. i am no people pleaser, i do want my comics to be entertaining and be great at least to me. im no professional writer but i hope my comic and my other comics you guys will find much enjoyment with.

i also plan on doing comics with my fandom ocs like My hero academia, FMA, and so on.

im now back and settling in my new house and cant wait to share any arts i wasnt able to share in time possibly, with you guys when i was in process of moving. so now im at the new house i can show ya guys.

hope you guys are having a lovely holiday!! ^u^

[davidmann95]

Comics this week (5/12/2021)?

comics-and-videogames said: This week's comics (asking now cause it's around the time you said you'd have them if not disregard)

Anonymous said: Comics this week? (05/10/2021)

Just under the wire before the new batch:

Spider-Man: Spider’s Shadow #2: Not exactly another Life Story in the making, but this does seem to be the closest we’ll ever get to a Spider-Man Kills The Marvel Universe, and I don’t know that there’s any other team I’d trust more with that.

X-Corp #1: Wow, so it turns out it’s really hard to do what Hickman does if you’re not Hickman, huh. Frankly this kinda sucked all on its own merits, but no overlooking the disparity.

Guardians of the Galaxy #14: Oh my god we already knew Ewing writes peak Doom shit but guys this is SUCH peak Doom shit.

Heroes Reborn: Hyperion & The Imperial Guard #1: Not quite as good as it was clever, but still a solidly fun little jaunt and I’ll keep an eye open for Ryan Cady’s name in the future.

Heroes Reborn #2: Aaron’s “it’s dumb and bad but I like it” Avengers approach applied to writing the high-concept adventures of dickhead Superman? You know I was all about this.

Project Patron #2: Not as propulsive as the first issue, but still a really solid read and setting up exciting things to come.

Proctor Valley Road #3: Still pretty good but I am completely thrown by how quickly and entirely Morrison abandoned the relative realism they were handling the dialogue with in the first issue.

Ice Cream Man #24: It’s a familiar schtick at this point, but still a good one.

Barbalien: Red Planet: I’d been hearing effusive praise about this mini for as long as it was coming out and was looking forward to it finally arriving in trade, and I can’t say I was disappointed. Obviously it looks good as hell with Gabriel Walta drawing it, and Tate Brombal does some really good “superhero as metaphor” work by having the layer of fantasy not over the subject itself - in this case the AIDS crisis and cop violence against the queer community - but how the central figure engages with it. An easy recommendation if you might otherwise be on the fence.

DC Festival of Heroes: The Asian Superhero Celebration #1: Aside from the eponymous ‘Festival of Heroes’ entry everything in here ranges from solid to really good, definitely among the winners of DC’s anthologies over the past few years and I’m looking forward to the apparent Monkey Prince book in the works.

Superman #31: The substitution of Godlewski with Norm Rapmund threw me in a way that artistic switches rarely do, but this is still a really solid issue and I’m kicking myself for only just now realizing the metaphor with a story about Clark and Jon struggling with legacy having them literally fight a gigantic shadow that makes vessels of whoever it’s cast upon. These Tales of Metropolis backups though...folks, I stood up for Sean Lewis with his Future State work, but it’s starting to look like we may have dodged a bullet that he didn’t get a more prominent place in the line.

Wonder Woman #772: Continuing to really dig this! Just don’t understand how this team’s Future State story sucked so bad, because this has been a hoot and now it’s grappling with larger ideas regarding Diana really well. Hope it continues on this trajectory, for now just happy that we’re finally getting fun Wonder Woman comics.

RWBY/Justice League (digital) #9: So it IS multiverse-related, which makes me much more curious how this is going to end up. Glad the next installment will apparently be the ‘everybody sits down and talks’ material that’s all I’ve really wanted from this story since it was announced.

Justice League: Last Ride #1: Not all you want it to be, but in ways I’m not sure can really be called its fault? It was written and formatted as a digital-first book but for some reason didn’t end up one so it stutters awkwardly back to life after a clean breaking point halfway through, and with all due respect to Miguel Mendonca who does a fine job here, if you’re doing a prestige-ey continuity-free kinda grungy Final Justice League Story mini and have Darick Roberson on the covers, it’s gonna be frustrating to not also have him on the interiors. It’s still a solid read and Zdarsky clearly gets Clark in particular in a big way, it’s just hard thus far not to imagine a better version of it.

Batman: Urban Legends #3: Zdarsky writes such a good Batman, god. The Shiva story was decent, I’m hoping the presumed upcoming Brandon Thomas Outsiders book is more of a piece with his Future State feature for them than this, and the Grifter stuff is still decent trashy fun.

The Joker #3: Still a great Gordon book, but arguably more importantly given the title this is the first time Tynion’s done a truly great Joker moment.

Rorschach #8: A book I continue to like.

[thanksjro]

Dark Cybertron Chapter 1: Welcome to Comic Event Hell

You know what readers love? When the stories they’ve gotten invested in over the course of a couple years get interrupted for some pseudo-crossover bullshit.

And you know what writers love? When the story they’ve been crafting over the course of a couple years get interrupted for some pseudo-crossover bullshit.

Did I say love?

Because I didn’t mean it.

“Dark Cybertron” was penned by John Barber and James Roberts, with collaboration with comic writer and artist Phil Jimenez, and was published from early November, 2013 to late March, 2014. Atilio Rojo, James Raiz, and Livio Ramondelli did the art, each responsible for scenes in specific locations, with Robert Gill filling in as needed. Alex Milne, Andrew Griffith, and Brendan Cahill would also contribute pencils to the first issue and the back half of the series. It was a celebration of the 30th anniversary of the franchise, and the second birthday of Phase Two... which went on for over four months, but never mind that!

Both "Dark Cybertron” and its preliminary materials were made to go alongside the Transformers: Generations toy-line, each issue being included as a toy pack-in with whatever character was being featured… or, at least, that was the plan. Sometimes it didn’t work out. Regardless, this storyline was created to sell toys directly, as opposed to the MTMTE/RID series being made to sell toys more through the power of suggestion. It’s a small distinction, but important, because it will help explain any lack of soul one may perceive while they read “Dark Cybertron”.

“But Hannz!” you cry out, reaching to grab me by the throat and shake me like a rag doll, because to you I’m merely a faceless voice on the internet. “Surely by calling this specific storyline soulless, you’re completely ignoring the very nature of this franchise that you’re almost uncomfortably invested in!”

To which I’ll say this: look, I’m pretty realistic about where my giant space robots came from; Transformers as a franchise would not exist the way it does without Ronald Reagan introducing the Free Market to literal children and fucking up how we interact with media for the rest of time. There is no ethical consumption under capitalism, and that rings especially true when I’ve got a Spinister on my bookshelf staring me down as I write this, that was likely made out of plastics which either involved blood oil or unethical labor practices, if not both.

However!

The choices of a company to have their comic license holders to cook up an entire plot that derails what they’ve already got planned out for toy tie-in comics is a completely different animal than what IDW had had going on up to this point. Phase Two had been about exploring different ideas that hadn’t been able to be explored during the war, and seeing what happens when you take away a third of the logline for Transformers G1 as a whole. Being a part of a brand of toys was almost inconsequential to how the stories were being told; even the Spotlights, which were also toy tie-in comics, had plenty of charm to them, if only because there weren’t quite as many constraints placed on the writers, and they were stand-alone issues.

Of course, being tie-in comics isn’t the only reason that “Dark Cybertron” is a bit of a slog, considering everything IDW itself was trying to get done within this storyline, but we’ll cover the publishing company’s/Simon Furman’s/Transformers’ tumultuous relationship with the concept of gender identity and expression later on, when it becomes relevant to the story proper. This point also ties into the interesting origin of Windblade, who we’ll meet in a few issues, and what happens when you let your fanbase have a taste of power and forget that people might like to see themselves represented in the media they consume.

“Dark Cybertron” is what ended up making me stop reading MTMTE the first time I tried it in 2015. A big part of it was because it forced the reader to need so much information from RID and even events prior to Phase Two, it wasn’t very fun to try to parse what was going on, on top of the writing beginning to flag because of obvious constraints to what Barber and Roberts could actually do, both within their deadlines and the rules put in place by their higher ups for the event.

 “Dark Cybertron” is the result of the sort of executive meddling that kills reader enjoyment by requiring writers to cram their two worlds together as quickly as possible, without the option to go for nuance because there simply isn’t time. The reason we have four separate artists for the front half of this story is because Milne and Griffith didn’t have time to draw both their current workload and “Dark Cybertron” at the same time... but sales probably went up due to the nature of how the story was published, so I’m sure they didn’t really see a problem with it.

That’s a general “they”, not a Milne and Griffith “they”.

In short, we’ve got license contract obligations, fan-poll obligations, and gender stuff fighting for space within the next 12 issues, which will be published in the span of roughly four months. Things are probably going to be a little bloated and sloppy.

Regardless of any of these points, this is what we’ve got. It’s not like it’s all bad- “Dark Cybertron” has the benefit of being written by two people who had been working closely before it had even been conceptualized. Barber was the senior editor for MTMTE, and IDW as a whole until he left in 2016. It also isn’t a proper crossover- y’know, where two completely separate titles get mashed together for a bit. MTMTE and RID exist in the same universe, just have their own things going on, so a decent amount of things still carry over without you needing to have read every single thing in both. The writing, while not quite up to par with pieces that had more creative freedom and breathing room between scenes, is still recognizable as being Barber and Roberts’. Their voices are still here, they’re just strained under the weight of everything that has to be said inside of 12 issues.

With all THAT out of the way, let’s dive in to Dark Dawn: Dark Cybertron Chapter 1.

We get a quick rundown of the most basic information you’ll need for this entire story to make sense, as we reintroduce the fact that Shockwave is an ecoterrorist with more agendas than a daily planner factory on meth, and also that he grows magic crystals. I don’t care what he says, the Ores are fucking space-magic. If you don’t want to read through all of RID for everything else, please see Robots in Disguise (2012), #1-22- A Recap, For Reference Purposes.  We also get a quick rundown of the Lost Lighters’ deal, as Swerve potentially has a meta-episode.

Be careful what you fucking wish for, bucko.

Our story proper starts with a flashback to the shittiest road trip Cyclonus ever went on, as the Ark 1 finds itself at the edge of a mysterious portal. This is likely why he wasn’t super thrilled when the portal to Luna 1 showed up- portals are probably a touchy subject for him.

Jhiaxus doesn’t know what this portal is- surely this means that science has failed us, and it’s time to call in the religious crowd to try and suss out what’s going on here.

It’s moments like this that make me wonder what exactly happened in the Dead Universe that made Cyclonus’ cheek meat just pack up and leave.

Now, we know that Cyclonus is correct here, because we as readers have more knowledge than the characters at this point, but Jhiaxus tries to write off this theory as hogwash, because he is a man of rationality and science. This is a slight removal from his character in the present, whose most notable traits seem to be a lack of ethics and screaming.

Everyone here seems to be slightly different from their current iterations, actually; Galvatron doesn’t say a word as he steps between Jhiaxus and Cyclonus, only using his body to communicate that the scientist might want to back off. Cyclonus himself is certainly the wordiest we’ve ever seen him to be, droning on through his actual thought process before he comes to a conclusion on what exactly they’ve found. Compare this to the Cyclonus of today, who only deigns to grace everyone with his voice if they outright threaten him, have something he wants, or are Tailgate. If he were to ever pull this verbal meandering on board the Lost Light, people would probably assume he’s having a stroke.

Nova Prime- you remember him, don’t you?- gives not a fuck about the Dead Universe, only what it means for him personally. And what it means for him is more locations to subjugate, because he is cartoonishly evil. His character is the least removed from his present-day iteration out of everyone. He tells the crew they’ll be getting a little closer, only for the portal to do the work for them, by way of dark energy tentacles.

Wow, the pilot for the Ark 1 really is just straight-up named Butt, isn’t he? And what the fuck is that face you’re making, Cyclonus? Are you- oh my god, are you emoting? Oh my god, he’s emoting.

As the Ark 1 is pulled to its doom, Jhiaxus makes a quick phone call to Shockwave to tell him he’s his favorite, and to keep up the good work.

In the present, Shockwave reflects on just how friggin’ long this whole ordeal has taken. Fortunately, Waspinator and the Titan are almost here, and he can hardly wait.

Not, uh, that he’s got emotions or anything. It’s been established that he doesn’t have those anymore. Is impatience an emotion? Does that count?

Shockwave seems like he’d be really frustrating to write for.

Anyway, the Titan shows up, the Ore inside him and the Ore in the underground Crystal City combine, and the Titan starts screaming because everything hurts. Shockwave’s about as thrilled as he can be about the situation, given his lack of emotions.

Above Crystal City, we finally get back to that nonsense about the early sunrise, as someone- maybe Starscream, given the color of the narration box- waxes poetic on the planet of Cybertron, wartorn and wild in its rebirth, ruled by paranoia that has nothing to bounce off of, and so creates its own walls.

Then we get a detailed shot of Rattrap’s mug, and the moment is broken.

Rattrap’s character is a lot of fun in everything he gets tossed into, but you’re a goddamn liar if you think he’s pretty to look at. You are lying to yourself, and I won’t apologize for saying it.

Starscream walks out of his room in his hot new body, feeling fine and ready to take on the world. We’ll check in on him later in the day to see how that positive mentality is working out for him.

So, the sun hasn’t moved, and it’s way too early for the sun to even be up right now. That’s weird. Because I guess he didn’t know how the sun works, Starscream’s only just realized that this is perhaps a problem. He does some computer work and realizes that this is indeed a very bad thing, and asks that Rattrap call the Autobots. Not the ones who fucked off into the wilderness, the other ones. The gay, space ones.

Up in space, Orion Pax and his pals have found themselves in dire straits, the collapsing Gorlam Prime sucking their ship back down as the Death Ore consumes everything.

That’s not how engines work! And I think it really says something about the “Prelude” issues that I completely forgot why Wheelie was down an arm for a solid five seconds.

It turns out that Orion was the narrator the entire time, which I should have known- since when is the once and future Optimus Prime not the primary voice in any media he appears in?

It’s looking rough for the fellas, but luckily we’ve got to get the plot rolling, so the Lost Light VZZZZTs into existence and picks up the Skyroller to place it gently into its belly.

Orion isn’t exactly jazzed about the fact that Rodimus didn’t listen to what he told him, not even bothering to thank the guy for saving his life. I say y’all keep going on your Thunderclash Quest and leave this ungrateful loser behind. No space yachting for you, Orion.

The rest of the Pax Posse enter the Lost Light proper, and Hardhead reveals that he nearly joined the Quest, before he saw who all would be coming with, while Garnak has a tearful reunion with Rodimus. The fact that he’s calling him Sir- which I don’t recall him doing in Transformers (2009), at least not in a way that seems reminiscent of an unfortunate Antebellum Period Romance- feels rather weird, but I’m glad someone’s fucking happy to see Rodimus at least. Ultra Magnus asks Orion if he’ll be assuming command of the vessel, as Rodimus tries not to look horrified by the thought alone, but fortunately Orion’s not going to pull his “I’m Optimus Prime and I Can Do What I Want” Card just yet.

Smash cut to the bridge, as Rodimus tries to make himself sound competent, when Starscream calls. Orion doesn’t like that Starscream has their number, Perceptor almost reveals the fact that this ship technically doesn’t belong to a faction, likely due to being purchased after the war, and Cyclonus gets brought in for his professional opinion.

As it turns out, that early sunrise isn’t a sunrise at all, but a portal to the Dead Universe. This is a problem, because the Dead Universe really sucks, and you don’t want to go there, especially if you enjoy being alive. Orion seems more concerned about the fact that Starscream is ruling the planet, and Bumblebee is nowhere to be found.

Speaking of Bumblebee, he and all his camp buddies are psyching themselves up for a confrontation.

Swoop, please, this is hardly the time for crudeness.

The Dinobots, sick of Bumblebee’s dithering about, decide they’re going to fight the fucking sun and gear up. Prowl, though generally disliking their brand of problem-solving, does share his begrudging respect of their can-do attitude.

Their can-do attitude over fighting the fucking sun.

Then an earthquake happens and the ground rips open to reveal that Titan that Waspinator showed up with.

Shockwave takes over the narration at this point, and we get artsy, as we see events that haven’t transpired yet over musings on the nature of... time? Maybe? It would be in line with Roberts’ go-to topics, but honestly the whole thing’s kind of vague so I couldn’t give you a solid answer. Shockwave gets awfully introspective for a guy who shouldn’t care, I know that much. The point is, he is inevitable and is super good at logic and science.

Also, Nova Prime and Galvatron are back, which is cool, I guess. Not sure where Galvatron had gotten to exactly after the events of “Chaos”, but he’s back now, so it doesn’t matter too terribly much. Shockwave serves them, which we’ll probably get an explanation for at some point.

God, you can practically taste the desperation to pin all these plot points together before the entire thing implodes on itself.

[rametarin]

And further thoughts about the yaoi paddles.

If you’re under 20, and just now learning that fandom seniors in their late 20s, 30s, 40s, even low 50s, used to run around slapping eachother on the ass with yaoi paddles in anime and comic conventions after anime became a household media staple, you probably have.. questions.

You’re probably thinking, “Wow!! It was really lawless and anarchistic back then, wasn’t it! They never heard about personal space or sexual harassment laws! SOCIETY must have been SO different, back then!”

NO. I cannot stress enough, the Yaoi Paddle phenomenon was borne PURELY because the demographic MOST LIKELY to protest and be wet blankets about everything fun and sexual and admittedly VERY SKETCHY sometimes in fiction, and ALWAYS bad in reality.. turned off and said virtually nothing. Wokesters that’d protest about the environment and sexual assault against women would take off their Problem Glasses by night and act like paddling was harmless, contextually acceptable behavior.

Yaoi Paddle shit appeared because something absolutely magical happened in scifi and fantasy fandoms. It survived purely because boys didn’t complain, or their complaints were not taken seriously. I promise you, I assure you, if you grew up in the late 80s, your night time TV was INUNDATED with heavy handed messages about how sexual harassment (always male-on-woman flavored) was wrong, even proxy or indirect violence to women (tossing rubber gloves in their lap) was wrong, and to never, ever, ever do that thing or they’d rub your nose in it and consider you mentally diseased until the day you died.

Fandom was always niche, with sci-fi and fantasy stuff being off in its own little corner. Conventions, before the internet was king, was one of few places where more rural, disparate suburban and city-definition isolated geeks, nerds and dreamers could get together and just cut loose. Comic books, novels, video games. All that GOOD shit. But if you knew a girl in the 80s and 90s, you knew a girl that knew a girl that was getting them to be less tolerant and “more conscious and aware” (80s and 90s parlance for Woke) and when that happened, a new persona was created. A new bunch of dialogue options, created.

Suddenly they didn’t say stuff like, “Ew. Why is this character dressed like a SLUT? Typical male writers. Like we’d ever draw ourselves in this or put ourselves in this.” Because that’d be a personal, subjective opinion. Instead, the option to say, “It’s endemic in our western culture that male chauvinist authors and writers in a patriarchal system exploit femininity in media and reproduce misogynistic culture.”

And so assured this was true by mob mentality AND the idea that learned, educated, acredited and tenured academics had this opinion, they were scientists, and so they were right, permeated. Suddenly girl-fans had outlets to have justified apprehension for everything they saw and didn’t like or, if they actually liked it, STILL interpreted it through their lenses to be on, “the right side of history.”

It made fandom miserable and a sausage fest for a while, if only out of fear of driving away female friends. You couldn’t share that shit unless you knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that your female peers and friends wouldn’t disregard you like a “typical misogynistic western male” for enjoying that stuff.

Sentiments and peer pressure thoughts emerged. Like, “The comic industry is hostile and cruel to women that try and enter it, and they exploit the image of women for cheap dollars.” So they simply weren’t interested in comics- mostly- unless the comics were written by women and sold with that virtue in mind. In which case, you had boys glowingly mentioning just how much they liked this authentically written adventure by this female comic author. Isn’t that just so special? Not like those horrid anti-woman cigar smoking old man stories, right?

There was always something to nag and get vitriolic about with the media. That’s part of why the Whedon brand of feminist writing got so popular in the 90s. it was low hanging fruit of peppy “sassy” girl characters doing girly things. They weren’t like “other” girls written in comics and cartoons. They were actually girly. Not idealized infantalized children, like those horrible white men write, you know.

Well. Things were looking really bleak for the forseeable future. Lots of boys just felt like comics and cartoons were lost to girls that weren’t specifically into them, and that meant more sausage fest conventions or hobbies, and signing off hope on those things being respected and accepted on the merits of what they are and were. The girls had embraced serials-filed-off radfem rhetoric and lenses, sometimes without even knowing the origins of where those truisms like the Male Gaze even came from, just assuming it was true and indisputable. And it complimented their insecurities, so they’d embrace that shit until they couldn’t anymore.

And then.. something absolutely miraculous and amazing happened that blindsided this whole vitriolic culture.

Anime.

And amazingly, every complaint that a lot of nerdy girls had about the very much sanitized, policed and made PG writing and characterization of characters in western comics and cartoons, just... fucking up and vanished. Seemingly within a fucking YEAR, the entire social culture of Problem Finders, finding everything wrong about these stories, the characters, the writer and the company that produced them being misogynistic male chauvinism, dried up. Those voices quieted, or were shut out of the groups.

Media from Japan was some of the most infantilizing, sexist, tittelating shit compared to mainstream American comics and cartoons and video games, and girls fluttered to it like flies to shit. We had Buffy basically subverting boogymen that a bunch of girls had been taught were still relevant after the 1950s by fighting crime in melee combat with men, and winning, while wearing jogging pants and cracking sassy, like Lola Bunny being a “tough girl.”

Japan had doe eyed, waif bodied ballet dancers that basically farted iridescent glitter, hearts and all the symbols and shapes of the Lucky Charms, riding unicorns and fighting evil in cute outfits. Being childish and not at all mature or professional to show how womanly and competent they were, basically being overgrown 11 year old girls fresh off the playground swing set.

And the fangirls loved it. Those nagging voices that would speak up and remind them about misogynistic, male chauvinistic “societies” and culture? Just.. they fucking VANISHED from the mind for AN ENTIRE GENERATION. I’m not exaggerating. Tolerance and fun and innocence was back again. The problem-glasses felt too ostracized and alienated, or didn’t even want to wear them anymore for personal reasons, and the Radfem Baby Wokes just seemed to grow out of that collective hysteria and pretend it never happened and never existed.

That’s why the very EXISTENCE of Yaoi Paddles at conventions was just so fucking bizarre to those of us that lived up to that point. After, “Stay in your own personal space, boy. DON’T even TOUCH a GIRL unless she VERBALLY AND PUBLICLY CONSENTS or it’s proof you’re just living up to this misogynistic, objectifying society’s evil history!” was drilled into us, day on the playground by day on the playground, by women with axes to grind and good-boy sycophants performing sharing those sentiments for brownie points, it was so fucking surreal to IMAGINE girls just running around sexually assaulting and physically assaulting random strangers because they thought they looked like cute, gay men.

It wasn’t that they didn’t know any better beforehand, it’s that they COMPLETELY put those sentiments away and up and decided, as girls, it was okay to violate male autonomy because they weren’t women, and “it’s okay to paddle a yaoi boy ^.^!” With NO self-awareness whatsoever.

The very fact it existed is testament to how attention starved boys were for girls approving gaze and playful interaction, that they’d tolerate some pocky fingered little cow stranger smacking them on the ass with a plank of wood because it was a socially acceptable way to just interact with girls in their lonely assed fandom and interest. It was an acceptable way to meet girls and positively interact. That’s the degrading bullshit boys said virtually nothing about at the hayday of yaoi paddles, purely to be welcoming to girls in anime and hentai approving spaces.

WE GREW UP hearing and watching horror stories and boogymen stories about true crime and sitcoms and crime shows about evil evil men violating the personal space of women for lewd and lecherous reasons. We had it drilled into our heads that the tolerance for boys and men doing that was negatives, and the general sentiment was men caught doing that (to women, or children of any sex) were effectively free game for any violence you personally felt like unloading on them, confident that in such outraged rape and sexual assault hating times, juries would excuse that passion as a defense.

So if you look back on the era of Yaoi Paddles and think. “WOW. That must be like driving cars before they invented seat belts and cough medicine before they invented the drug safety and scheduling legal system!”.. NO.

It was not like the 50s-70s, where many of the rules hadn’t been written yet so it was anarchy and chaos. Yaoi Paddles existed almost PURELY because girls HAD no rules if they didn’t want to respect them. The Yaoi Paddle phenomenon flew in direct opposition to how interactions were supposed to go, and ABSOLUTELY NO ONE would tolerate the reverse; no cis straight man could walk around randomly smacking women on the ass with a plank of even foam in pantomime, or ‘floating hand’ pretending to be a perverted character. The double standard was GLARING. The Double Standard was a fucking bugbear that had grown from a tiny screaming goblin and was now hanging upside down from the ceiling, roaring.

But because it was GIRLS inflicting it on BOYS, absolutely no party cared enough to raise a stink about it. The Radfems kept their mouths shut, because boys were the recipients. The Radfem Sympathizers really wanted to spank boys, so suddenly they couldn’t find their problem glasses and instead put on their neko ears. The boys were either stoic and amused by it or really wanted to be seen as cool and not buzzkills, so they tolerated to reveled in it.

Many times when you hear about things that happened either when you were a child just too young to really personally experience a thing, or before you were born, we’re quick to assume it’s a medieval place and the people were so uncultured as to have never pondered the social problems of spanking one another on the ass unprovoked. Violation of personal space, personal sovereignty- all that. That was NOT okay at the time. It happened because fujoshi decided it was okay and nobody argued with them to not do hat, or they were told to stop and did it anyway.

And as I’ve laid it out, that is the most bizarre and surreal element to the whole thing. They DID know better, but felt it didn’t apply to THEM because they were girls, and a girl slapping a boy on the ass “as a joke” didn’t mean anything- because it wasn’t happening TO them, FROM a man.

And irony of ironies, it was NEVER okay, EVER, throughout that entire era, for the reverse to be a thing. It was very specifically and exclusively not. As a man if you ran around slapping cute looking girls with the Yuri Paddle, you goin’ to either juvy hall, or prison, boi. Both sexes knew it. And yet, yaoi paddles STILL became a thing.