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ivyveil · 2 years ago

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Eddie & the Hideout

the one where Y/N accidentally leads Eddie to believe she's dating Robin and also it's my first time posting fanfic in over 4 years so let's just give it a go?

genre: fluff, slight angst (teens!!), minors sipping beer :/

A/N: Hi! Hello. Very weird to be back but I'm really enjoying the Eddie Munson realm of works atm and would love to jump in with some ideas/AUs. For those who don't know, I primarily have written Harry Styles works in the past so check out my masterlist <3 Be easy on me this time, just getting back on the bike. More works to come!

The air was smoky, with weed, cigars, and the aftertaste of knowing you’re too young to be somewhere but too comfortable to leave. It was the Hideout, aptly named, for on Thursday nights it held those of Hawkins High who never caused enough trouble to be kicked out, but simply needed somewhere to go that wasn’t home. Often Eddie Munson toed the lines but Reagan, the bartender, partial-owner, and one of the many parental figures you had picked up in your time, had mentioned something about his uncle Wayne calling in a favor.

Your role in the establishment was picking up odds-and-ends jobs for a bit of cash; your older cousin, who took you in when the going got rough, only made enough to barely scrape by when it came to bills. Your income allowed for a few nights out for you both, and possibly some new records depending on how much of a sale she could wiggle out of Virgin Vince at Narbo’s Vinyls down the road.

The man of the hour (or, possibly, a boy, from how he was sulking in the corner) had seen you reading against the bar, enjoying the hours before Reagan came up with things for you to do, and plopped himself a few seats down. In the realm of school, neither of you tended to speak–but you also tended to keep to yourself when your paths crossed in the Hideout, so the silence could be safely named Comfortable.

You were aware of his antics and while his outlandish personality and rocker looks tugged at some of your strings that longed to be ripped out of the standard seams of life into something exciting, passionate, and chaotic, you were held back by minor setbacks.

Never having been kissed.

Not knowing what a dick looked like up close. (Biology textbooks don’t count)

Hearing they could move on their own, and terrified at the prospect.

Lastly, and most importantly, having utterly no idea what to do with your hands in most normal situations, rendered completely useless in anything romantic. There was the one encounter you had last year when Prescott Smith tried to hold your hand during a drive-in movie night. You had pulled it back immediately, mumbling an apology and offering the popcorn up, assuming he had meant to go for that instead. He wouldn’t speak to you for the rest of the night, a drenching sense of guilt for something you hadn’t even known you did wrong clenching your fists tight on the heavy ride home.

Reagan told you that you were an idiot for that one (perhaps rightly, perhaps there was a way you could have rectified things instead of waiting for a man to suddenly read your mind) and made you clean out the men’s room after close that night, dealing with the stink and vomit, because “learnin’ men are fuckin’ disgusting even when they’re not trying” is a “part of life” and to “glean the comfort you can and leave soon after” was her advice.

So no, any serious notion of chatting with Eddie would necessitate some level of exiting a comfort zone that had done nothing but do you well so far. You remained kind, offering waters at the end of his gigs to his band but with a safe enough distance to ensure you wouldn’t be a reliable source of eye contact on his fourth Lunch Rant of the Month (you had a Bingo sheet going with Robin to try and source out some pattern of prediction to the gut-lurching, almost poetic Eddie Munson).

It occurred to you that maybe you could get him to include something about the Moon Landing in tomorrow’s, for a pint on the house. You’d have your first Bingo and Robin would owe you Cokes for the rest of the month.

“Hey.”

You were so far in thought, staring at a random page, your forearms holding the book to the bar, you completely missed Eddie’s attempt.

If you had been aware, you would’ve noticed his leg jiggling under the table, how he stole looks your way a half dozen times before turning the full amount and jerking his head up. It was half past 9, almost time for his set at 10, and usually Eddie would be in the parking lot, hyping himself up in his van. Once, you offered him some kohl eyeliner you had tried (and become frozen with the realization your reflection was a stranger and you didn’t know how to pretend) and occasionally it would play a part in his pre-show routine.

But for now, he sat, in the silence of your daydreaming and his unfamiliarity with being casual.

In the quiet, he spared a glance to the ceiling to see if Jesus would prove himself once and for all. Upon no reply, and a renewed vow to the Devil and his kinship, Eddie sighed and shook his hair out, renewing what he considered his best feature, his hand knocking against his water glass as he did so. Despite his arm crashing to be a barricade to the glass taking a trip over the bar ledge, the liquid made a fast track down the sticky wood to begin seeping onto your book.

You looked at him, this time.

“Whoops.”

Wide brown eyes, open and clear, and very apologetic, met yours.

“Hey, Y/L/N, how’s it hanging?” A second trial, Jesus’ return.

You leaned forward over the barstool to grab a server’s towel, sticking it against the sides of your book and along the cover. Your place in the text, lost against the speed in which you were trying to save it, caused you to huff, annoyed.

“I’m alright Munson, just catching up on the newest Jackie Collins ‘fore I have to cover for Reagan.”

Before Corroded Coffin’s set, Reagan often assisted in ensuring all of the amps were set up properly and the band members had actually picked out 4-5 songs to perform. It would happen occasionally that Gareth or Eddie would have a spat whether Judas Priest or Iron Maiden deserved that night’s attention, and while Reagan had time to give to drama, the antics of heavy metal teens rarely made it worth it.

“Ooh,” Eddie drawled, having picked up a secondary cloth and, seeing your novel in one shape, given the bar a half-assed pat, “You haven’t heard?”

“No, what?”

“We had to cancel tonight’s show. Jeff got the flu.” His tone wasn’t entirely monotonous, twinged with the infamous Eddie dialect, but you could tell he was fairly bummed.

You offered a weak smile, unsure entirely of how to navigate comforting someone you barely knew, but he took it in stride and moved to the seat closer to your own, clapping his hand on your jacket.

“No, no, I’ll have none of your tears Y/L/N. Save it for sadder tales, if they exist. Although some of us believe the show must go on, it’s undeniable that in the spirit of being a band, Corroded Coffin must wait another day.”

Another water glass appeared before Eddie, Reagan having moved down the bar to where you two teenagers sat, perched, leaned in to one another like friends. Your book had been moved to the side, your body resting against the bar’s edge and your knee dangerously close to where Eddie’s jeans tempted them.

“No damn reason in comin’ just to get water and not play,” she grumbled, removing the spilled glass and giving Eddie a withered, yet careful look. You had a feeling she cared more for the Munsons than she let on, but sometimes one’s past should be respectfully not yanked into light. (In other words, you were pretty sure that in another life Reagan would be Eddie’s aunt but it was a different, but similar, cavernous distance that kept you from others separating her from properly reconciling with Wayne).

“Well Reagan, I was going to see if you needed any help ‘round the place tonight. But since Y/L/N’s on shift, I’m guessing you don’t? What a gal, she’s got it covered, this one. Always on top of it.”

Reagan just shook her head, tsk’ing as she drifted back to the paying, of-age patrons.

“Thanks, Munson,” you mumbled, taking a sip of your own drink. Reagan preferred you drinking in her establishment as opposed to the “rancid-ass house parties football players gawk at their own dicks and try to fuck holes in the wall, dumping who-knows-what in whatever piss they drink” but it was strictly limited to one a night.

“No worries, never mind bigging up a fellow reader.”

“You read?” Your attention was now fully on him, and his body only rested for a moment before continuing his consistent fidgeting. His fingers, if anything, moved faster around one another, twirling ringed jewelry and picking at his nails.

“Mainly D&D stuff but occasionally I’ll knock out a Stephen King,” he said, proud to have grasped your attention–and maybe, was that a bit of respect as well? He’d take it, hook line and sinker.

From there on out, for the next twenty minutes, you two discussed bits and bobs from novels, to a few movies (neither of you had seen Terminator yet but patched together a rickety synopsis from what you’d heard), and finally dashing around to the highest commonality you both shared: high school.

You were animated, alive, raving about something that had happened at lunch a few weeks back, and Eddie’s fingers danced along his water’s condensation. He couldn’t help his captivation; a joint had made its way out during the chat, but he was still considerably sober. Completely strange that he felt a bit drunk, his feet and arms tucked into your shadow.

There had been something on his radar, something he had been meaning to ask you at some point. It was high school, there were rumors, and even though Eddie Munson was the town’s ultimate Freak and social pariah, he wasn’t immune to the chats of the hallway and whatever clips of gossip his drug clients gave forth between exchanges of cash and goods.

And so, in the moment of a sharp silence, in which you had said something about “Robin cheated at Bingo but I was certain you had said-” before rapidly cutting yourself off in an embarrassed haze of revealing too much, he ventured forward, forcing himself not to think.

“So...you and Robin...” you nodded, indicating him to continue, “Are...partners?” Eddie’s mouth twisted into something uncertain, as if he couldn’t tell if words had come out or if potentially it was you.

Your lips were around the beer’s rim again, eyes pursed before nodding. “Yeah,” your fingers dashed over lips to catch the spare liquid, “we’ve got chemistry together.”

The first day of class, when notebooks were settled neatly in the nooks of desks as if staying aligned with a wood grain could transfer to the rest of your life, had been noteably deterred by your teacher, Ms. Shannon, ominously announcing the person next to you would be your lab partner for the year. Typically teachers, in fear of some popularity loss that had the rest of the teenagers gripped until graduation, allowed for some grace period. An allowance for meeting, warming up to one another. But what was a trial run had become a year-long attachment to one Robin Buckley.

She had been pleasant enough of a lab partner, with quirks that made toiling through sheets of homework and lab reports worth the effort. Math came in as one of her strengths (something about counting and music and staffs and, quite frankly, you never had a solid sense of rhythm so you’d leave the calculations to Robin) and you had the organization to keep the pair on track. An unbeatable duo.

Yet, to your knowledge, this wasn’t entirely relevant to Eddie’s day-to-day. He had chem the previous period; actually, you were fairly sure he sat in your desk if the devil horn scratches and leftover song lyrics were any indication. “Garbanzo Smokes” and “Half-Baked Lasagna” weren’t likely to be the songs of your generation but again, you often chose to leave the musical judgments to those more inclined.

“Yeah, bet you do,” Eddie mumbled, scratches in his voice. He was looking down at the joint dangling between his fingers, several strands of his curls falling against his cheeks. He looked forlorn, very boy-ish, and a yearning in your chest brought you forward from your position curled up in the barstool.

“Why? Did you wanna see her tonight?” You couldn’t help it, the questions that spewed out of your mouth. The answers you never really wanted to know, primed before you by only your doing.

It’s strange, how two paths that deviated into one another time and time again never fully crossed until nights like this. Some other band was up on stage, some older men with heavy, wet breathing noises and dreams still too vivid to die, but it had almost sounded sweet against the rosiness of Eddie’s cheeks and the vibrations of him vehemently rapping his ring-laiden knuckles against the bar when you said your opinion on EMILY’s List.

Eddie scrunched his eyebrows, shaking his head.

“Nah, I mean-” he whirled to face you more directly, hands splayed in some form of surrender. The joint was between silver stacks on his middle and forefinger–you plucked it out to fill yourself with something other than perpetual regret.

“She seems nice. Great! Even. I just wasn’t sure, well, what she was...but I mean, I think it’s great you came. Still. To see me perform-"

"I work here."

"Even though-” Eddie had a knack for breathing through his words, inhaling as he spoke and cascading everything upon you in a rain of run-on sentence and thought-through speech –”we got cancelled on. Guess people like hearing a Springsteen regurgitation compared to genuine art.”

“I thought Jeff had the flu?”

Eddie shrugged. “Flu, Springsteen 2.0 offered Reagan an extra $20 for my spot, what’s the difference?”

You’d believe it, unfortunately; for how much hard love she’d show to the younger Munson, the Hideout wasn’t as popular as the closely named Hideaway and sometimes an Andrew Jackson was a world of difference.

“Why’d you come?”

Eddie shrugged again, his flamboyance narrowing in stature as you felt you were closing in on something he couldn’t yell his way out of.

You knew his uncle worked nights at the factory, so it could have been not wanting to stay in his trailer alone. Sense of schedule, perhaps? Waking up tomorrow and feeling it to be Friday would be massively harder if you didn’t spend the early seconds of Friday morning cleaning up half-filled pints and several shot glasses from between seat cushions. But to exist, to float around a small town where there was no true getaway, there had to be some secrecy behind purpose. You could understand that, partially, if not for your own desire sometimes to simply be completely, utterly alone.

“Y’know, Thursdays are when Reagan can sometimes slip me a few bucks more. Sometimes the band- when they’re good-” Eddie flashed you a grateful smile “brings in a few more patrons than earlier in the week. If you wanna help me wash out a few glasses, sweep up near the front, I’ll give you a cut of it,” you offered., pressing the roach of the joint into a nearby ashtray. You kept your eyes on the suffocating ember, always unsure of how men would react to acts of sympathy. Some demanded it, others abhorred. Eddie wasn’t a clear read for you, not in the slightest.

You were Prescott, your hand reached out, the popcorn in Eddie's court.

Eddie took in a deep breath, leaning back in his seat, drawing in the smoky light between you both once more. He performed a quick act of pondering the offer over, his fingers curling against his chin and a general murmuring about the semantics of his night and all his plans he would rearrange and how he hadn’t brushed up on his cleaning skills in quite a bit, before launching a hand before yours.

“Sounds like a better time than cleaning up Jeff’s puke, so count me in.”

“If someone pukes tonight, Eddie, I’m making you clean it up regardless.”

“Even better, I prefer it when it’s from a stranger.”

A/N: eddie munson i love u give me ONE chance maybe actually TWO bc we both have issues, urs being ur dead. <3 hope you guys enjoyedddd lmk what you thought here and check out my other works here xoxo

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurb #stranger things blurb #stranger things fanfic #mine

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antiloreolympus · 3 years ago

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6 Anti LO Asks

1. im kinda confused, bc for some reason in LO the human race must be younger than the gods, right? but then how was persephone in college (god, remember when she was in college?) for biology? does that mean humans as a species are only a few centuries old? like girl you cant have this be modern and still be following bible creationist ideology when even actual christians dont believe that anymore. the world building and sense of logic and history makes no sense in this.

2. Hades' nose always makes me think about that scene from Family Guy where Cleveland cuts a hole through a safe with Reese Witherspoon's chin.

3. the over-rendered shiny lips with the too big, flat eyeballs with no irises and weirdly shaded, neon skin tones with no difference in hair most of the time is such a strange design choice. its like it wants to realistic but also cartoony at once, so you get this weird uncanny valley middle ground and it just doesnt look good. the early style was also rough (and tbh kinda ugly now that i look back at it) but it at least had nice colors and interesting effects to distract from it, but now ...

4. Persephone and Apollo's story could've honestly been really well written. The two literally mirror each other like how most great protagonists and antagonists do -

They both have controlling, single mothers (I would prefer if we would stop villainizing poor Demeter, but what can we do).

They both have had to work hard to reach ridiculous standards, giving them both many talents.

They are both viewed as perfect and innocent, even though they have a dark side.

But because Rachel has pretty much villainized Apollo to ridiculous levels, and refuses to give us a better idea of where he's coming from, all of these interesting parallels are hard to see and get thrown out the window.

And the r*** plotline? Totally unnecessary. Just have Apollo want to use her to become King and end it there. Rachel has even shown us that there might be some justification in Apollo wanting to take over from Zeus - all of this could've helped make Apollo a three-dimensional villain. But nope.

5. I don't want to start a war here, but I just want to say that as one of the Greek anons that said that Hades was the only one that really hurt Persephone in the myth - when people say that Hades hurt her (and raped her in some interpretations) it's to bring up the point that Hades was made in LO to be better than his myth counterpart, but at the expense of Demeter's character - ruining her relationship with Persephone when it was a very positive one in the myths. It's not to say that Hades was an evil-doer with no redeeming qualities. It's just stating a criticism towards how Demeter is portrayed. At least, that was my interpretation and how I framed it.

-----FP Spoilers/Mention-----

6. (Fast pass mentions) tbh after reading the latest fast pass, it's just become 100% clear that this whole trial bullshit is just Rachel's "Gotcha!!!" To all the antis because it's just "Oh look Thanatos also got it through nepotism" (which he didn't bc child labor isn't nepotism but okay Rachel) and then in the latest fast pass its like "oh she wants to take over because she wants to make heaven for the shades" because she apparently does feel remorse and feel bad for them despite bring so nonchalant about this situation multiple times.

Also apparently Hades is okay with wanting to change how things are done in the Underworld now because God Forbid he and Persephone have a problem in their relationship that lasts more then a single chapter or we get any actual drama during a murder trial.

It used to be kinda fun to critique lore olympus but this whole trial part is just so poorly done and it's clear Rachel has no idea how a court system works anywhere and it's become such a drag, especially with this new "Savior" plot coming in. I know this final part of commentary isn't anything no one else has said yet, but I have no idea what else to say about it, honestly.

#anti lo #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical #lo critical

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moss-gender · 2 years ago

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obligatory intro post!

heya! im mossy. this is my tumblr! I also go by river, ghost, lucid/cid

about me

age: 30

orientation: queer/demi/arospec

gender: agender (ae/aem/aer or they/them)

neurotype: autistic/neurodivergent

disabilities: chronic anxiety, psychosis (mostly paranoia and derealization but also depersonalization and dissociation, also delusional), chronic gi issues, auditory processing issues, ptsd

ideology: leftist/ancom leaning

privileges: white, middle class upbringing

spirituality: buddhist witch, believe in a lot of weird bullshit (the line between this and psychosis is blurry sometimes)

relationship status: relationship anarchist

special interests: entomology (insects) + arachnids + isopods + myriapods, hyenas, lucid dreaming, writing, paleontology, diy dollhouses/miniatures, j-fashion (menhera, decora, spank kei, cult party kei, fairy kei, punk lolita, bittersweet lolita, gothic lolita, yami kawaii, yume kawaii, mori girl/boy, harajuku street fashion), candy gore art, farming rpgs (especially sos, ac, minecraft), personality quizzes, sanrio (cinnamoroll is fave), queer microlabels, techware fashion/art, furry art, cringe art, dreamcore, weirdcore, old web, mycology (mushrooms), mandela effect and reality shifting stories, cyberpunk fic and art, diy fashion and decor, survival skills, mythology, etc (may add to later)

what I'll post besides special interests (tag list):

me: things that i vibe with

current events: news (you can block this)

feel good: positivity

art: art i like

humor tag: shitposts and memes

queer: queer stuff

gender: gender stuff

aro: arospec stuff

friends: cute animals and critters

important: psa and important info

life hack: self improvement, etc

mental health: tips, awareness, education, etc (will probably tag specifically too like bpd, psychosis, ptsd, adhd, anxiety)

sw: sex work stuff

m a: mutual aid

fashion: j-fashion as well as faecore and punk fashion

want: things i wish i could have (may or may not have shop links)

recovery: things pertaining to either alcohol, self-harm, ed, or bpd recovery

resources: resources i want to remember

my posts (formerly “river says things”): diaryposting, life updates, thoughts, etc *I will probably just say vent posts from now on. idk my name

may tag friends if something makes me think of you!

current tags for blocking purposes: ableism, racism, transphobia, queerphobia, whorephobia, current events (rn "roe v wade" for example), sexual assault, sex, rape culture, diet culture, gore, creepy crawlies (for insects et all), hate crime, unreality, police, police brutality, abuse, addiction, ed, relapse, substance (sometimes will talk about psychedelics), slut shaming, csa, pedophilia, food (for people with ed or for during Ramadan), anti-semitism, islamophobia, please note that as of 06.28.22 i have started tagging again so be cautious going backward!! also!!! let me know if i should add something!

fandoms in case relevant (in rough order of how high the interest is): sanrio, animal crossing, minecraft, junji ito, skyrim, our flag means death (ofmd), what we do in the shadows (wwdits), king of the hill (koth), trailer park boys (tpb), russian doll, beastars, kuragehime, everything everywhere all at once, hannibal, x files, buffy, star trek... will add more as they come to mind

feel free to send me asks! im not always good at responding so if i forget it's not personal!

Edit 05.09.23: I no longer support AI art. This has been true for a while but I haven't updated my intro. If you go back far enough you may find some art. When I first got into it I thought they used only free photo databases and only art that had entered public domain. I know this was naive now. I liked the hyperrealistic style renders that could generate character inspiration. I didn't know how much art was being stolen and how many styles were being replicated nonconsenually. Honestly when I got into it I was being very delusional. So it took me a while to accept that what was happening with AI art was happening. Using AI art tools for fun was not as completely harmless as it first appeared. I don't want to help that industry, but I do hope one day AI art could be different. Not a threat. Because the programming potential would not be a replacement of human art. AI programming is a special interest bc I think the field needs people who care about the ethics of how AI technology is used. I sometimes blog about AI art in reference to this interest in understanding the industry of AI as a whole and how it can be used for justified choices.

Edit 11.15.24: I don't really tag things anymore. Unless I have anyone request this moving forward I don't think this will change

#rye says things #intro post #river says things

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

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If life gives you melons...

Ship: Loki x F!alt! reader

Rating: Explicit / word count 5,5k

Summary: You've heard about meet-cute, how about meet-ugly? Reader has tattoos and a tongue split. There's this joke that "bisexual alt girls go looking for a girlfriend and end up with sad, tall and skinny white bois" and boy did that hit home. Inspired by this cringy video of Hiddles [youtube link].

During a panel at a comic con, Loki notices reader and they go on a date, reader gets railed: top!Loki, choking, rough sex, unprotected sex, all the good stuff. Open ending, with a bonus of reader and Loki pranking Clint.

x. I usually fancy they/them pronouns for Loki but seeing as it's a smut-shot, I decided to go along with he/him for the sake of simplicity. Loki's at least 6'4 tall and you can fight me on that. Also, I write like a Tony stan - I feel the need to apologize to Loki stans for that. I love you guys! 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

The long line of people appeared to be neverending. Loki was an enhanced, as the government recently had adopted a politically correct term for Earth's non-human inhabitants, but even his enhanced endurance had begun waning due to sheer amount of people wanting a piece of memorabilia signed by The God of Mischief. Loki had gained a considerable amount of fans after doing his part in killing the mad titan Thanos and by extension, saving the world. It turned out, humankind was a sucker for a good redemption arc.

Loki's hands ached where they wrapped around the pen that he'd been using for nearly 4 hours to neatly place his name, written in neat runescript, on various pieces of merchandise that his fans (and wasn't that a strange thing!) presented to him. He used to think that he would have actually succeeded conquering the earth if he had a grasp on how to use social media and his charm; now, he just wanted the torture to end. An involuntary sigh left his mouth when he saw another print of himself in full battle gear being placed in front of him by a reasonably attractive young woman.

"Um, thank you," She stammered, giggling softly, and Loki spared her a painstaking smile, scribbling his name once again. The woman briefly caught his eyes. "Um, you're the reason- the inspiration for me. I became a stripper."

Loki blanked, feeling his eyes widen and blink on their own accord a few times. He wasn't sure if he heard the woman correctly, as the unusual statement made his brain freeze.

Loud snickering from behind the blushing woman interrupted the system error that he was experiencing in his head. It wasn't often that somebody managed to render him speechless. It looked like whoever was in line behind the stripper woman had taken advantage of that. Loki's eyes snapped to the short-haired person, who looked torn between cringing and breaking into embarrassed laughter.

The stripper left without a word, and as Loki picked up the cursed writing instrument once again, the short-haired person smiled at him kindly. "That was a little weird," They snorted, "And thanks, have a nice day Mr. Loki."

"When life gives you melons, you might be dyslexic," Another woman, that appeared to be the short haired person's friend, deadpanned and gave a cynical side-eye to the departing stripper. Loki heard snickering coming from the short-haired person and quietly joined himself. The woman noticed it, winking at him as she collected the newly signed t-shirt. "Bye," She smiled kindly.

It was a split second decision, really. Something about the cheeky way she addressed the situation sparked Loki's interest. "Wait, you forgot something, darling," His baritone called out to the departing woman. She turned around, confused, and hastily grabbed the standard issue photo that he was holding out to her. With a final grateful nod, she smiled and left.

If Loki's smile had returned for the time being, none of his teammates made any remarks on it. Only his brother, Thor, gave a couple of knowing looks to the Asgardian sorcerer.

The woman in question didn't think twice about the photo that she stashed in her backpack along with the signed t-shirt. The Comic-Con had been full of people and the lines were unfairly long. The sheer exhaustion after attending a 3-day long convention had set in and she was eager to simply come home back to her apartment and crash on the nearest soft flat surface. Upon arrival, she did exactly that, flopping down gracelessly on the couch, her backpack landing next to her with a careless thud.

Unloading her trophies was a short time affair: a single white tee with a dozen signatures on it, written in what she hoped was waterproof Sharpie; one mug, shaped like an Iron Man helmet; one poster, showing Spider-Man on a picturesque NYC horizon and a signed photo of one Loki. Strangely enough, she did not remember requesting it - not that she was complaining. Free merch was free merch.

The front side wasn't signed whatsoever. Overcome by curiousity, she turned it around. A phone number was written on the back of it, the handwriting neat and the letters obviously being inked out by a thinner, more sophisticated pen than the one Loki had used for scribbling on the tee. The woman gaped silently, not believing her eyes. Did Loki himself had given her his phone number?

One margarita and a hefty helping of Chinese takeout later, the numbers persisted staring back at her mutely, the neat cursive being almost mocking in its quiet. The woman's smartphone had found a comfortable place right next to the photo, equally mum regarding the unusual situation.

An additional margarita was needed to gather the courage required to actually type out the number in the receiver box. Fruity alcoholic concoction in one hand and phone clutched in the other, the woman's eyes squeezed shut tightly as soon as the dreaded "Hey, got your number today! :)" read delivered. She'd typed and erased the message several times, groaning in embarrassment. How the hell does one approach an alien god?

"Hello! May I ask your name?" The response came after a brief moment - a moment the woman had suffered through by taking too haste sips of her drink, her common since screaming her to not overdo it and wait at least a full minute before replying. Everything felt awkward and misplaced.

In no time, she was sending the screenshots of the conversation to her girl-advice group chat that consisted of her closest friends. Chatting with Loki turned out to be surprisingly easy and he was great at upholding conversation, something that couldn't be said about all those Tinder matches she had had back in the day.

Even if using proper grammar during a text message conversation was something she had to reacquaint herself with, she was glad he wasn't just another boring, shalllow, condescending-ass white boy. Despite the cultural differences and his lack of knowledge of things like pop culture and music - something he said he was working on since New Asgard became a sovereign state on Earth - they bonded over music and tattoos and generally being rebellious against society's standarts.

The invitation to dinner didn't come as a surprise for the woman. She agreed happily, looking forward to continue their conversation outside of the internet - if Loki's part of the chat was anything to go by, not only was he charming, but also quite intelligent. And easy on the the eyes, too. They had traded selfies at some point and the Asgardian didn't look any worse in a hoodie and sweatpants than he did in his battle leathers. Loki had appeared to truly have had integrated into Earth's society.

The night of the date, the continuous text exchange did very little to calm her nerves. Loki texted as much as an overeager teenage boy: every now and then he would double-text and grossly overreact to her sending a simple meme. In fact, he smugly conveyed the fact he'd single-handedly started a meme war between the Avengers and even Steve was forced to participate; something that was, allegedly, out of character for the blonde man.

She didn't mind. Not like she had many friends to have so much fun with. Even if it took her twice the time to do her favourite eyeliner style, it was worth it. She hoped Loki would appreciate the bold, but classy make-up and the dress and shoes combo that accentuated her assets. Her date expressed curiousity about her tattoos and the difference between her preferred style and the humans he spent most time with. She guessed secret agents were not particularly fond of anything that made them memorable so she held out quite the hope for... Showing off some of her tattoos in a more private setting.

In other, simpler words, the woman came in prepared for both a friendly, leisurely stroll and a quality night. Either way, it would be a time well spent.

Loki's shiny, raven hair was impossible to miss as he towered over the rest of the people waiting by the restaurant's entrance. He wore tailored black trousers and a simple cashmere sweater, perfect for the evening's damp, cool air. Tall and lithe, Loki was mouthwateringly handsome.

"Come here often?" She wormed her way through the crowd, causing the man to smirk down at her. Her cheeks flared from the tiny gesture alone.

"Just waiting for a friend," Loki uttered lowly, extending an arm towards the woman, which she gracefully accepted as they made way towards the entrance. "Reservation for Loki," The Asgardian stated to the hostess, who, after a rapid doube-take, led them to a private, secluded area in the back of the restaurant.

Loki shouldered the slightly awkward interaction with grace, paying no mind to the girl. His focus was solely on his date and he was nothing but gallant as he took the woman's purse and held out the chair for her to comfortably sit down. As a prince, he was taught well, she mused.

"Usually I would ask 'what brings you to our little ball of water and dirt?' but I think we can skip that part," The woman stated with a sheepish grin, idly flicking through the menu and curiously eyeing the items that were unfamiliar. The desire to try something new fought with the possibility of accidentally ordering something too far out - like snails or other things that rich people fancied, for some reason.

Loki's greens briefly appeared over the top of his menu, grateful and sparkling. "I think it's best if we do just that," For a second, he looked away, before returning to the menu. "I can think of better things to discuss. I recall you didn't finish telling me about that college friend of yours, who was an anarchist... I'm dying to know..."

The waiter came and went, barely noticed by the pair, as they both poked at something that sounded the most familiar for both of them. Stoically, Loki admitted that Tony Stark did the booking for him and the woman reluctantly acquitted she wasn't very familiar with upscale establishments, being of middle-class background and working a middle-class job.

Interrupting the story she began telling hours ago, the woman took the time to point out the things she was familiar with on the menu and advised Loki to stay away from - like the aforementioned snails, and other things, slimy and salty things that she considered to be 'disgusting but rich people liked it for some reason'. The conversation slowly progressed into Loki telling her the mischief he got up to at the feasts Odin threw. The Asgardian shared the woman's disregard for influential people doing gross things to show off.

The food was good - it was really hard to miss with a traditional Italian lasagna - and seeing Loki shovel an obscene amount of food was an experience, but she didn't comment on it, tactful enough to consider his alien biology might have different dietary requirements that her human one. It was great, really, that she could order dessert and not feel guilty about it.

The gelato melted in her mouth like sweet ecstasy and she moaned with her next bite, only partly aware of how obscene really was the noise.

Loki's hand stuttered on it's way to his mouth. Wide-eyed, he stared at her lips, at her mouth, where her tongue lapped up the small drops of dessert from the spoon. "Why the split tongue?" The Asgardian finally gathered his wits, having had a good look of what he was sure was a trick of the eye at first.

She grinned, acutely aware of the effect that particular body modification had on men. "I like being different. I embrace the weird." She giggled, not at all ashamed, sticking out her tongue and wiggling both parts of it teasingly.

Loki's Adam's apple bobbed; "Weird?" He raised his eyebrow, fighting to maintain his previous cool composure.

She nodded. "Weird," She retorted coyly. "I usually don't divulge the details at least until the third date. Wouldn't want to scare my potential suitors off," The playful wink was the proverbial cherry on top. He was hooked, his eyes darkened, following the plump arch of her lips as she took another spoonful of the treat and savoured it, closing her eyes for a brief moment.

It was pornographic.

"Obviously, Midgardians don't know what's good for them," Loki scoffed in his usual bored monotone, fully aware of how fitful his attempt to conceal his excitement was. He sounded needy even to his own ears.

"And you do?" She pushed away the empty plate, chastely patting her mouth with a napkin. The raised eyebrow and the little smirk spoke volumes.

The grin he wore was hardly anything but feral; he asked for the waiter's assistance by flicking his wrist in an impatient fashion. Once the bill was paid and the woman's cardigan found its rightful place on her shoulders, Loki once again took hold of her arm, this time holding her smaller body against his larger one, taking care to slow down and keep his strides shorter.

She found the coolness of his presence refreshing in the moist, heavy air of the New York city.

"Where to, milady?" Loki asked her, looking down at the woman fondly.

"My place is a block away. Walk me, good sir?" She gave a delightfully easy smile in return.

He nodded, letting her lead the way, allowing himself to get a little bit lost in their shared presence, a little bubble of them in the middle of a busy city. It was as if someone had quickly turned down the volume of the honking cars and noisy pedestrians around them, leaving the soft breeze and the sun slowly descending below the skyscrapers. It felt far too short, partaking in the comfortable silence together, skin tingling under the thin layers of cloth where they were touching.

The sun was trapped in the strands of her hair as she smiled at him from her doorway, worrying her lip between her teeth. It was a bittersweet moment.

"A kiss good night for the good sir?" She asked hopefully, eyes darting between his face and his mouth.

Loki obliged, resting his palm flat on the door frame, towering over the woman as he gently slotted his thin, cool lips against her warm ones. The woman stood on her tippy toes, eager, placing a hand on his chest. The pair melted into the kiss - it had no business being this mind-blowing, brain-freezing for two people that have not met until that very day. The woman didn't refuse when Loki probed with his tongue, requesting entrance to her mouth; she licked into his own with fervor, fisting her hands in the soft fabric of his sweater.

With the hand that was free, Loki pulled the woman flush with himself, feeling the heat of her start a fire of its own inside of him. Her breathing rapid, the gesture only served to tighten her hold on his sweater, until a soft, barely audible moan slipped into his mouth, causing his brain to quickly reassess the situation.

Regretfully, Loki pulled away, clearing his throat. "Perhaps we should take this elsewhere," He meaningfully looked at the array of doors around them.

"I thought you'd never ask," She retorted with a fond eyeroll, tightening the grip on his sweater once more, to pull him inside her apartment and shut the door behind her. The awkward moments were few and in between; neither knew who reached for the other first, mashing their mouths with less grace than before, clutching at the other's arms and hips with hunger.

This time, Loki didn't hold back his own muted groans of satisfaction, shivering when the woman's hands snuck under his sweater and the simple tank top he wore underneath. Blunt nails scraped along his abs.

Step by step, she pushed him further inside her apartment, determined in her small quick strides. There was no mistake of their destination; no mistake in her desire: she was as hungry and as impatient as him. The crease between his eyebrows deepened, long arms extending to unzip the top of her dress to reveal a simple but tasteful black lacy bra covering her breasts. The woman barely noticed the action, stepping out of her dress as soon as it hit the floor.

He admired her. Inches of soft skin covered by intricate ink, some patterns bizarre and complicated, some beautiful in their simplicity. Loki couldn't wait to find out about the meaning behind every one of them, to trace the lines with his tongue and sink his teeth into the heated flesh.

The hands that were holding onto him for dear life tugged on his sweater and he chose to simply vanish it, too preoccupied with looking at the view in front of him. She gasped and her eyes met his: uncanny, magnetic emeralds shone with magic and power and desire.

"Fuck," She more mouthed than said, walking backwards in a trance until her shins hit the bed.

Loki grinned, advancing on the panting woman with the grace of a predator. "Darling?" His tone was innocent; his expression was anything but. His large hand encompassesed the side of her face, thumb running over her bottom lip in a possessive gesture that had her squirming in her place. He loved the way she just melted into his touch.

Their lips met again, slower this time. The kiss was once again graceful and unrushed, allowing them to explore the softness of each other's skin, mapping the arches and valleys with gentle strokes of their palms. The broad expanse of Loki's back was uneven, riddled with scars and blemishes, and she mapped every single one, blunt nails raking down it as she pressed into him, arching into his hands where he held her.

The soft flesh of her ass, barely covered by a scrap of black lace, was shamelessly grabbed - the woman didn't doubt there would be marks left - letting her feel his arousal pressed against her belly, hard and twitching. She didn't resist her desire to ge handsy and palmed it, taking note of the gasp and the twitch coming from the man occupied with the clasp of her bra. In no time, it flew away, forgotten somwhere the very moment Loki's palms took over her breasts, running a careful thumb over each nipple.

"Fuck," She parroted her previous statement, equally breathy and considerably more aroused.

"That's the plan," Loki's chuckle was hoarse.

She huffed, biting her bottom lip before reaching out to swiftly pop the button of his trousers, smirking at the hiss the friction of her palm produced against his cock. It shouldn't have surprised her that Loki was a commando kind of guy, but still, she gasped, partially from the ministrations of his clever fingers, partially from the mouthwatering sight in front of her. The thick, flushed length made saliva gather in the corners of her mouth.

He must've heard the audible swallow. "Not so haste, darling," He tutted, giving her relaxed body a gentle push, causing her to land on her back, heated skin against the soft duvet of her bed. "Let me taste you," A thud; Loki had dropped to his knees, using his large palms to spread her legs, opening her up to his eyes.

If his previous work hadn't made her so pliant, so aroused, she'd have been rendered speechless; instead, the woman arched her back, presenting herself and the desire that had pooled down below. The Asgardian chuckled, fingertips soft against the scratchy lace.

"Tease," The woman moaned, outstretching her arm to guide him but quite unable to reach him. She had to settle for squirming in her place, receiving a fraction of the desired traction against her swollen lips.

"Am I, love?" Loki asked her sweetly, caving enough to dip a single finger to run along the outside of her slit. It glided easily thanks to all the moisture gathered there, lips parting easily before his touch. The panties were vanished away promptly, another finger joining in immediately to rub slow, precise circles around her clit.

She keened low and long, fisting the fabric in her hand until her knuckles turned white. Loki knew what he was doing. It didn't take him very long to slide his long digits to the welcoming heat of her opening, dipping them inside until she began to make the noises he so craved. His mouth followed after that, long agile tongue drawing senseless shapes on the inside of her labia and dipping deeper, where her clit stood out engorged and slick.

He could smell the bittersweet of her arousal, mouthwatering and hot.

"Loki, fuck," She moaned, only half-coherent and partially aware of her own hips following his every stroke, every flick. He only advanced, hitting that sweet spot inside her with every stroke; the sparks traveling up her spine quickened with each time she changed his name like a prayer. "Loki, Loki, Loki..."

He growled, attaching his mouth firmly to her clit, and she arched for the final time, coming undone, squeezing around his fingers and gushing in his mouth, the obscene sounds covered by her own scream of delight and his impatient growling. The growling that sent shivers of aftershocks throughout her body.

"Darling, you taste so sweet," Loki groaned, still panting.

She took the time to open her eyes: Loki looked comically out of place in her bedroom, he dwarfed her bed and made her feel small, but it didn't matter at all at that very moment. His erection stood out hard and proud; despite the leg-shaking orgasm just moments ago, she wanted more, she wanted to taste him, she wanted to feel him inside-

With unsurprising agility, one swift motion was all it took for her to rest comfortably against the pillows, his throbbing member resting against the juncture of her thigh. She tasted her own release on his lips, however brief, whispering a weak, "Please," aching to feel the emptiness.

"As my lady wishes," Loki's cool breath ghosted over her cheek. She waited with baited breath until the tip of his manhood breached her, exhaling a moan into his neck and immediately wrapping her lips around a patch of skin as he stretched her so sweet.

Loki's arms shook slightly as he waited for her to adjust. He kissed her, soft and sweet; there was something vulnerable in him, something as sweet as the ache he'd taken away. Once he began to move, slow and fluid, all there was left was an all-consuming need to feel. As graceful as dancer and with a deadly precision, Loki pounded gasps, moans and screams out of the woman's slack mouth, kisses turning hungrier and sloppier by the second.

"So sweet," He cooed, relishing in the snug grip of her cunt around him.

She only keened in approval, too far gone and unused to the intensity of the feelings from a man with centuries of practice and the power of a god.

His thrusts slowed gradually until he was rutting into her, grinding his pelvic bone into her clit. The gasps and screams turned into drawn-out, longing moans; her hips followed his, meeting in a slow, sensual motion.

Loki was not a patient man. He withdrew - she gasped in protest - flipping the woman over on her fours with ease, taking but a split second to admire the curve of her body presented on display for him. Just for him.

With that thought burning in his mind, Loki sheathed his cock deeply inside her spasming cunt. It was nearly unbearably stimulating and only his own desire to prolong the bliss held back his own impending orgasm. That, and his own ego; he was naught if not a generous lover.

She slurred something, quiet and incorrigible, fucking back onto his cock as eagerly as he was plunging into her heat. The hand he'd placed on her shoulder promptly wrapped around her throat in hopes of lifting her close enough for him to hear the words but instead, it sent a full-bodied shiver throughout her. Loki grinned, tugging her that much closer.

The arch in her back looked quite uncomfortable yet she didn't mind; it was the exact opposite, in fact, her cunt tightened around him, drenching his shaft down to his balls. Her fingernails dug into the flesh of his thigh, the sting of pain going straight to his cock-

"Loki, I'm gonna, I'm gonna-" She slurred, gasping for air.

He weakened his hold on her throat enough to let her gulp the so-needed oxygen. It was her undoing: was it the rapid pace of oxygenated blood traveling to her brain or was it his cock, mercilessly pounding against her g-spot - she was violently spasming around his cock, much like she did around his fingers not too long ago.

It felt like ages, her crescendo coming in waves with no signs of stopping any time soon. Loki's continuous thrusts, his hips slamming into hers, her skin feeling like molten lava.

"Gonna fill your sweet cunt with my seed," Loki moaned lowly, holding her up by the throat, the other hand leaving fingertip-shaped bruises on the outside of her hips. "Mark you from the inside out," His voice had gone into primal territory, growling filling up the room.

"Please..." The woman rasped, oversensitive.

And he pleased, with a series of sharp thrusts, he buried himself to the hilt in her, the force of his release making her shudder and moan once against, going limp in his arms. Loki kept her in her place until every drop was inside of her cunt. Nothing was sweeter than that.

The Asgardian didn't bother with getting under the covers to hold her, conjuring a soft, comfortable throw in modest green, to cover their nudity. He didn't need the extra warmth but his companion was by far more fragile and sensitive to these things- Loki's fingertips traced the array of bruises he'd left in the wake of their passion, expression surprised as he found the woman smiling.

"Feels nice," She supplied meekly, eyes half-lidded, face trusting and open towards him.

He gave a small grin in return, placing a chaste kiss atop her head. "Yes, it does, darling."

Time after time, she didn't expect much out if their date. The sex was nice, nice enough for both of them to want seconds and thirds after their rushed first time - but it wasn't like she expected him to hand around. It was a pleasant change from the usual mutual ghosting she'd done with her previous partners, but Loki had texted again and they had resumed their conversation via text like nothing had happened.

No, that would be incorrect. Now, she had a wonderful friend who was a great conversationalist and an even better lover. There was no pressure to put a label on their relationship so the woman didn't bother with it; it didn't seem like Loki cared about the label, either, so she left the topic alone and enjoyed things the way they were. It wasn't like she had a line of suitors anyway.

She couldn't help the smile that creeped onto her face when she unlocked her phone and saw a video call request from other than Loki himself. She still had thirty minutes worth of lunch break to waste and this was a wonderful time to chat with a friend.

"Stark, hand it back or I swear to Norns-" Loki's voice sounded agitated and far away, accompanied by sounds of a struggle; the bearded, smug face on the screen was not who she expected at all. Only years of customer service and low bullshit tolerance combined stopped her from freaking out seeing none other than Tony Stark smirking at her from the screen of her phone.

"Yes?" She arched an eyebrow, taking note of the anger of Loki's tone.

"Hi, I don't think I need to introduce myself," Stark babbled, eyeing her - disheveled and with a wall full of sticky notes and miscellaneous items acting as the background to her video. "Reindeer games refused to show you to us so we decided to persuade him," Tony's grin grew wider, muted whispers being rapidly exchanged in the background all the while Loki screeched "BROTHER!" and various expletives at the top of his lungs.

"You could've, I dunno," She paused, unimpressed. "Asked me to dinner, like a normal person. Instead of stealing, you know, like a thief," The eyeroll that she performed had the team worried her eyes would fall out of their sockets.

"I merely borrowed his phone, don't be dramatic," Stark huffed, and for a moment, she could see various other people trying to look at the screen and by extension, at her. "So, what is it that you do? Because Smurf over there wouldn't..."

"Oops, bad signal. Sorry, can't hear you properly," Her side of the call suddenly shook and in a moment, she ended the call, not at all willing to deal with people that lacked boundaries. Sure, it might have been Iron Man, but if he was planning on being a snooping asshole, she wasn't gonna go down with that easily.

Exactly five minutes after she had clocked out, an incoming call from Loki had her equal parts excited and mortified. What if..? But he was apologetic. And very angry, swearing in his native language - something that he'd promised to teach her at some point.

"So, Clint did it?" She sipped her beverage, strolling home with the phone pressed snugly against her ear.

"Most of it was his fault, yes," Loki grouched on the other end of the call.

"I vote we get back at him. Invite me over, if he's so inclined to see me, and watch him get humiliated in front of everybody," It wasn't a secret she had her own mischievous tendencies.

"As much as I appreciate your vigour, darling, I doubt the Widow will appreciate you verbally castrating the Hawk in public," He replied sourly, his voice still betraying the faint notes of interest.

"I have a backup plan!" She stated without a hitch. "He'll embarrass himself and I'll be your alibi."

"I'm listening," Loki perked up immediately.

They decided to not to stall and schedule the 'family dinner', as Thor himself dubbed it, for the next available weekend. Loki had made sure Tony's AI had been made aware the trickster would be gone all day, and it took him very little magic and effort to pop in and out of the tower for the five minutes that were needed to execute their prank.

His friend barely managed to keep the snickering at bay as they ascended the elevator to the common floor where the dinner was being held. Not only that, but the woman spouted an area of dark purple love marks, barely obscured by the low turtleneck of her blouse.

She made her introductions and they made theirs. "This affair could use some background noise," She remarked off-handedly, casting a meaningful glance at the TV.

Tony Stark was known for being a great host so he entertained her wishes, flicking on the huge flat screen with a flick of his wrist.

The team froze.

"I... -" The woman stared at the screen, mouth hanging wide open at the scenes that played out. "... am not going to kinkshame, but please turn it off," She stated in a small voice, seemingly unable to tear her eyes away from the mass of tentacles commencing erotic assault on a woman's body.

Wordlessly, the TV shut down, immersing the room in stunned silence. Loki face-palmed, the slap of his palm against his face echoing in the eerily quiet room.

"Loki!" Captain America, red as a tomato, instantly accused the most obvious person.

Except, he had forgotten one thing. "Loki was with me all day," The woman replied, unkindly. "Do you need more proof?" She tugged on the hem of her turtleneck, exposing an inch of skin marked blue.

The good Captain's face changed the shade once again, venturing very well into beetroot territory. "Who was the last one to use the TV?" Rogers asked, now with a hint of anger, as he stared at a guffawing Bucky.

"I believe it was Mr. Barton," The AI piped up, mechanical voice sounding almost insinuating. Or, perhaps, it just appeared that way.

#loki x reader #Loki smut #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #tom hiddleston #it's 4am y'all #we be THIRSTY

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leam1983 · 3 years ago

Text

On Grief

This is a long one. You're under no obligation to push further if you don't want to. It's a personal post, so I'll more than understand if this isn't to your tastes. The normally-scheduled pedantry, commentary and memes will resume shortly.

One of my relatives was diagnosed with ALS. What started as an odd case of palsy in her left set of vocal cords that could've been far more benign was just confirmed by her referred physician. It's Lou Gherig's, and with her age and current condition, her prognosis is of three to five years, tops. Sure, Stephen Hawking blew his own prognosis out of the water, but a combination of notoriety and luck enabled him to eke out as much existence as medical tech could've possibly allowed.

We knew things were suspect when my aunt, a marathoner with a monthly sub to Runner's World, stopped running. Her food intake dropped like a stone, and she soon took to increasingly simple painting and drawing styles. At first we thought it was just her wanting to explore simpler rendering techniques, but then...

Then we noticed the twitching. How awkwardly her pens and brushes were set in her hands. She was in great shape and didn't mind living in the ass-end of Sutton, basically in the open country and with a path leading up to her front door that was all in rough cobblestones. She broke a hip against them, last year.

Her speech started to slur, lately. Her last bike trip also landed her in the ER. She doesn't bike anymore. She doesn't run, and being a gourmand by nature, feels obligated to restrain herself, for fear of gaining weight. She's aggressively vegan. Not towards others, but towards herself. No meat, no eggs, nothing. Most of us ovo-lactos and omnivores in the family know her constant snacking meant her seventy-plus body is desperate for energy.

From the look of things, it feels like the diagnosis broke through her bullshit reasoning for being vegan. She wasn't vegan for the sake of limiting her carbon footprint or making more responsible choices at the grocery store, but because she, as a lifelong anorexic, thought she was ugly and needed to lose weight. That's been a constant with her. Age catches up and skin sags? She mistakes it for a love handle, cuts out virtually all sources of protein and carbs safe for tofu, seitan and bean-based preps. Of course, like a lot of anorexics, she'd have bulemic episodes. I used to sleep over at her last bachelor pad, as a teen, and I remember her pantry was loaded up for bear with Danish cookie tins, Nutella jars and whipped cream. I remember she invited me over specifically when she intended to cheat. Then it was back to yoga, pot-smoking, meditation and shopping runs - and she probably kept her purging for when I was gone.

So yeah. I'm betting Belgian Asshole (see one of my previous posts) convinced her to break her vows and went looking for a "slice of authentic Tikka Masala", to quote his email. The entire family is made up of ethnic food diehards, so we spam-flooded his inbox with recommendations. Looks like she'll be eating meat again, soon. Her own email mentioned concerns of strength and stamina, so I get it.

Otherwise? We're gobsmacked. Imagine spending an entire weekday both at work and off work, aggressively goofing off because you're trying as hard as you can not to think of your favourite aunt's mention of assisted suicide as an option.

Three to five years. Maybe one, or two good Christmases. After that, her condition should probably have started to deteriorate quickly.

I'm not close with a ton of my own family. I love them all, but it's more a sense of polite respect than anything involving solid bonds. The only two folks I know I'll be devastated for when they'll die are her, and my youngest cousin on the other side of the family.

I'm mostly okay now. No doubts, no crisis of unbelief, no anger, no rage... But then I'll see her in a more diminished state, one of those days. How am I going to take to it?

Part of me keeps a tally of the deaths in the family. First, it was my uncle on my mother's side. Ruptured abdominal artery, with a leak small enough to pool into the gut's cavity for months. Decay settled in, guy got anesthetized for an intervention...

They didn't even bother sewing him back up.

Second one was my other paternal aunt's new husband. First one was great, but left the country in the seventies to go live in Stockholm with his medical assistant. Second one was a geologist and physicist at the same campus she taught as. French guy, the son of innkeepers four generations down. It showed, too. Our Christmas tables haven't been the same since he left us his recipie books, all his corny jokes on provincial eating habits, and his obstinate focus on turning every 25th of December into a Roman orgy probably befitting of the old Saturnalia traditions. I mean, when's the last time you've had an eight-course meal, outside of Thanksgiving?

Tumors in his mesenteric artery lined the blood vessel's inner walls, deposited virtually everywhere in his body. He was diagnosed in June and dead by August. He'd always been the lanky type, bone-thin even if he hoovered food like he'd never have enough. He looked even thinner in his hospital bed.

Then, my maternal grandpa bit it. Decades of casual alcoholism, cirrhosis more or less jumping on him around his seventy-sixth year. He looked a bit like John Keston, the actor who played Gehn in CyanWorlds' Riven. Same hairline, same hawkish nose, same eyes - just more Cajun and less New England-esque. I don't know if it was youth or stupidity or - anything, really, but I dropped by to see him, just two days before he died. I didn't realize he was tallying my life, asking me if I had everything in order, if things were planned.

Now, I understand.

Next one on the chopping block is Aunt Doris, still on Mom's side. She of the serial mooching, she of the concept of not needing much to get by if you were the cute one of the family. She was pretty enough in her prime, sure - if by pretty you meant "cigarette-butt blonde with a discount Farah Fawcett blow-up and an unfinished High School degree". First husband was an abusive ass who gave her an uncommonly sensitive son, second one figured she'd stick to the minimum-wage circuit while he tore out rotator cuffs or busted his C7 while on his outboard like clockwork. By the end, she roped my grandmother into living with her, spent her days sloppy-drunk and died on her ratty couch while falling asleep and choking on her own vomit.

Before them all, the youngest of my uncles died at age two. Cancer. Never knew which one, was told it didn't matter. You didn't survive much of anything cancerous, back in the late fifties.

Ping-pong this back to three years ago, and my oldest paternal uncle dies. Paul, who smoked like a chimney for most of his life and successfully stopped after discovering Champix. He got to live five great years as the high-IQ oddball he'd always been, smoke-free. Paul was the weird bird in the family, the type to remember a really engrossing story at two in the morning and making a note to call you up first thing in the morning to share it. He always had a project of some sort to work on, like a simulated investors' tank for young entrepreneurs looking to learn the ropes, or a Byzantine arrangement of coaxials allowing four of his lakeside neighbours to pirate his cable sub. He'd invite us over for dinner, gather all the ingredients we'd need for whatever it was he wanted to treat us to - and then he'd let us cook it - just sitting by the sidelines, chatting away.

He was also a bit of a narcoleptic, and looked a bit like William Howard Taft if you'd worked him out of these old sack suits and into modern shirts and suspenders. He fell asleep practically everywhere, with his more wakeful environments being his workshop and his property's dock. He took me out fishing, once, and knew what the entire family expected.

"Oars're here, Gremlin, fish're that way. Wake me up when you've got a bite."

At this point, it wasn't even a point of concern; it was just an Uncle Paul Thing, the exact thing you'd have expected out of this kind, eccentric blob of a man whose idea of fishing involved pushing his hat over his eyes and basically all but ensuring that his roaring snores would scare prey away. He'd been a supposedly high-IQ type, terminally bored with almost everything, only really getting agitated and interested back when I asked him for help for my Junior High Computer class's Javascript calculator. Once the syntax hit something familiar and he realized that JS has some similarities with FORTRAN, he was on a roll, acting like someone had snuck a Red Bull in his coffee.

Well, fibrosis caught up with him. His last hours were spent directing us on how to cook what would've been his last meal. I think he really just wanted to know we were alright, that we still could exchange laughs around the kitchen counter. He clocked out the way he always did, except he had an oxygen tube running under his nose. His head bobbed down, he snored loudly for a few minutes, then turned increasingly quiet...

And that was it.

And now there's Isabelle. The marathoner, my partner-in-crime when it comes to professing to have a healthy diet while occasionally cheating in glorious, weekend-defining means, my gateway to cannabis and also the first person who took my cringy self-insert fanfic fodder and went No, that's worth it! Push it, develop that universe of yours!

I wouldn't be almost two-thirds of the way through my first decent manuscript, if not for her, and I wouldn't be shopping for publishers with the same energy you'd reserve for weekend-grade Facebook putzing-about. I owe her part of my self-acceptance, and part of my discovery of what defines my routine to this day. Isabelle was my first meditation coach.

And in three to five years, she might be gone.

I just thought grief might be... noisier, is all. Louder. Right now, it's just germane to confusion, and it's sitting there. There's a pinch of fear in it, too. My parents are in their mid-sixties. How long do I have left with them?!

And the family and I just covered that up with jokes and, well, cooking. I've been told I'd make a half-decent therapist but - navigating your own emotions is hard work...

I don't know. I guess I needed to put this down somewhere.

#personal life #tw: cancer mention #tw: alcoholism mention #tw: death mentions #grief #coping

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donnerpartyofone · 4 years ago

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reasons my i am probably too sensitive to have anything to do with other people

including other people’s drama that has absolutely nothing to do with me

i started reading this person’s new webcomic on instagram a month or two ago, and what started out as a fun little time killer that i looked forward to every day has started making me so uncomfortable that i wish i’d never heard of it. it takes place right now, in an especially embattled US city, and it’s about the dysfunctional lives of a bunch of shallow millennials, set against the backdrop of an increasingly dangerous country in an unpredictable state of revolt. it’s solidly engaging, convincingly characterized, and rendered in a unique funny animal style; i wasn’t surprised to discover that it’s going to be published soon by the most reputable publisher of this sort of thing. at first, i was impressed by it because i thought the behavior and dialog of its insecure young people was so well observed. it felt like one of the only things of its kind that i’ve read, more or less about real people living right now, that was neither a broad ugly satire, nor a pretentious drama exaggerating the specialness of its characters. the other thing i liked about it was that while it was largely about their sex lives, it didn’t seem at all sexy to me. the artist has a kind of distorted, rough-hewn visual style that i thought put some emotional distance between the overheated state of the characters, and the real consequences of their decisions. then it all got weird.

the artist stuck a really long, graphic sex scene in the middle of story that made me think...oh, maybe i AM supposed to be getting off to this? that’s weird, this all seems really bad to me, like every character is just mindlessly, selfishly bent on destruction and not doing much to make me like them, and i’d been reading along thinking “god i’m SO GLAD i’m not in my 20s anymore and i don’t have to deal with people like this--or with the pressure to act like this, as if using sex to create drama and being ‘crazy’ is the ultimate thing a person can do with their life”--and then suddenly it felt like maybe the comic was actually some kind of celebration of this lifestyle, or at the very least it’s an intensely sentimental portrait of a time of life, and of types of people, that i cannot imagine feeling sentimental about. then something else happened that made the comic even MORE uncomfortable to read, somehow: it had been gaining traction at an amazing pace, with tons of people leaving comments to the tune of “noooo don’t do it!”, the way you would yell at someone in a horror movie not to go back for the cat, as each character made the worst possible personal choice in every daily installment. the “don’t go in there!” response seemed pretty natural to me, but then the artist stepped in and made this announcement threatening to stop doing the comic altogether if the readers wouldn’t stop criticizing the characters. pretty much everyone in the comments was like “???”. many apologized if their comments were offensive, although they had no idea what they could have said that was wrong; other people, who seemed more sure that they were the ones being accused, said that they thought you were SUPPOSED to feel critical of the characters’ obviously bad decisions. that was how i felt, and at that point i was just enormously glad that i never comment on shit online or get involved in any type of community shit, especially when the artist started explaining laboriously that all of the characters represent some facet of the artist themselves and so therefore none of them are meant to be seen in a bad light at all and they’re all meant to be loved unconditionally and if you find yourself thinking mean things about the characters then you are effectively shitting all over the artist as a person. a lot of readers fell all over themselves to be supportive, and i just thought...this isn’t something you should support, though. it sucks that the artist is feeling so sensitive, but they’re about to have a book out in the world where they won’t have any ability to threaten readers who are “reading it wrong” or having incorrect thoughts about it. i mean...life is full of uncomfortable experiences and people you can’t relate to, i really don’t think we should be promoting this hopeless sanitization of all experiences in which trigger warnings used to be something that protected traumatized people from being randomly confronted with traumatic material, and now they’re used to just make sure nobody ever has to hear anything they don’t like, ever. anyone who cares about this artist should be helping them understand that they cannot control how people read their book or how they feel about each character and story in it. or failing that, they should be encouraged to just turn off instagram comments. but because of all this drama, i found myself reading all the comments obsessively--something i did when the blowup first happened, because i couldn’t find anything in there that i thought was mean or offensive, which added to my uncomfortable fascination with the whole thing--and that’s when i spotted a comment where somebody asked the artist is this was a furry comic. i wish this didn’t blow my mind, but it kind of did. i mean, it’s a book where almost all the characters are animals, and they occasionally have a bunch of raunchy sex. i think that if you’re a furry, meaning you’re interested in that sort of thing, this book is completely available for you to enjoy however you want. but this person needed the artist to FORMALLY CATEGORIZE IT as a furry comic. what the fuck is the meaning of that? it struck me as something that people in fandoms do, where they need every single thing to be labeled to death in an intensive and intractable way like it was science, the Final Word on everything in the universe, and they like *argue with each other* about whether they’re *allowed* to ship certain characters together or imagine them doing specific things, which is something you would only worry about if you thought the topic represented a literal material reality that could be adversely affected by people’s improper thoughts. i mean imagine if you felt that way about your jerkoff fantasies about fictional characters? that your horny thoughts are up for debate by hundreds of people you don’t even know? imagine feeling like that about OTHER PEOPLE’S jerkoff fantasies, like it’s worth fighting over and trying to CONTROL? like holy fucking shit you guys, STOP IT. it would even be one thing to ask the artist if THEY were a furry, which may or may not be anybody’s business, but to ask whether interpreting the comic through a furry lens is ALLOWED is like...well, actually, maybe it’s exactly in line with the artist’s recently expressed attitude, that you’re forced to think of the book in exactly the way that they personally think about it, or else you should have your reading privileges revoked. so now i’m still reading the comic, sort of compulsively, because i’m a little addicted to the soap opera of it and i’m ALSO a little addicted to the soap opera of the artist battling the readers over finding the correct orthodoxy for reading the comic--there’s a particular guy i’ve become aware of in the comics community because he is always harassing people with this mix of really caustic sarcasm and really bitter political self-righteousness, and he was surely the main person who was being “mean” to the characters, and HE’S STILL DOING IT IN EXACTLY THE SAME WAY, because i guess the artist would rather have problems with people than simply block them and eliminate them from the equation? but the whole entire thing is making me so uncomfortable i can hardly stand it. reading about like, dumb hot chicks with no self-control, and smug young shitheads who use the veil of progressiveness to hide or justify their predatory sexual behavior, and grownass adults who start drama with 20 year olds in order to feel relevant, AND being forced to know that the artist intends for me to embrace and adore all of this bad shit--like, people and things i left behind in real life, because it was all bad!--with ultimate love and compassion, or else they reserve the right to claim that they’re being personally attacked, has just become too much to take. it’s starting to make me feel sick. i really need to take the reigns on this thing. as much as the artist needs to forget about this control fantasy and stop being so precious about what they’re doing, i need to stop subjecting myself to something i find painful, embarrassing, and frankly creepy, if i ever wanna get back to a state where i have less to complain about.

tl;dr: stupid hipster is too sensitive to read a webcomic by a stupid hipster who is too sensitive for anyone to read their webcomic.

#NOT simon hanselmann #somebody else!#i will tell you if you chat me i just don't wanna get involved

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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Why Oblivion is Still the Best Elder Scrolls Game

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With their acquisition of ZeniMax Studios finally complete, Microsoft is poised to challenge Sony’s recent reign of exclusivity dominance by potentially making the next generation of Bethesda releases exclusive to Game Pass platforms. For the moment, though, the biggest benefit of this acquisition is undoubtedly the ability to access a good portion of Bethesda’s library of classic games via Game Pass.

While most of the Bethesda games recently added to Game Pass are worth playing for one reason or another, few are more intriguing than The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion. Sandwiched between the releases of the revolutionary Morrowind and the eternally re-released Skyrim, Oblivion is sometimes thought of as the middle child in the modern history of one of gaming’s most beloved RPG series. Nearly 15 years after its release, though, it’s remarkably easier than ever to appreciate the many ways that Oblivion represents the very best of the Elder Scrolls franchise.

Don’t believe me? Use its recent addition to the Game Pass library as an excuse to play Oblivion again (or perhaps for the first time), and you’ll find these reasons (and more) why it remains arguably the best Elder Scrolls adventure so far.

Oblivion Has (By Far) the Best Elder Scrolls Quests and Stories

Let’s start with one thing that few Elder Scrolls fans will argue against. When it comes to quests and stories, Oblivion is a far better game than Morrowind or Skyrim.

I’ve talked about this more extensively in my look at the best Elder Scrolls quests ever, but I remain truly amazed at how much thought and creativity went into even the most “average” quest in Oblivion. That baseline level of quality is really the key point here. While many of Oblivion’s biggest quests (such as the Dark Brotherhood and Thieves Guild assignments) are obviously memorable, even the little quests along the way that you may have forgotten about offer something special that helps them stand out.

I don’t know why the Elder Scrolls quest design and writing teams were at the top of their game at this time, but I doubt even The Elder Scrolls 6 can top the work they did here.

Oblivion Found a Nice Middle Ground Between Accessibility and Depth

For quite some time, the line on Oblivion has been that it’s the “middle” game between Morrowind and Skyrim. While that’s obviously true of its release date, that idea speaks more to the suggestion that Oblivion represents Bethesda’s struggles to balance the more hardcore RPG ideas of a game like Morrowind and the accessibility improvements featured in Skyrim.

Some say that means Oblivion doesn’t truly excel at either pursuit, but I don’t see it like that. In Oblivion, you get a taste of Morrowind’s incredible RPG philosophies and mechanics without having to deal with that game’s most annoying aspects. At the same time, Oblivion manages to be much more playable than its predecessor while still feeling deeper overall than its successor from a role-playing perspective.

Oblivion doesn’t necessarily combine the best of Skyrim and Morrowind, but it finds a nice middle-ground between those styles that’s easy to appreciate to this day.

Shivering Isles is Still the Best DLC Expansion Bethesda Has Ever Made

Granted, I can’t (and would never try to) defend most of Oblivion’s DLC. There’s a reason that “Horse Armor” is still used as the gold standard for exploitative and uninspired video game microtransactions.

However, it’s easier to forgive Oblivion‘s DLC stumbles when you realize they all eventually led to the Shivering Isles expansion. That was the expansion that finally dared to answer the question “What if The Elder Scrolls just got weird with it?” By transporting players to a land ruled by Sheogorath (the often hilarious Daedric Prince of Madness), Shivering Isles dropped most of the stuffier fantasy elements of the franchise in favor of allowing the talented Oblivion design team and writers to breathe life into their wildest ideas.

The golden age of single-player DLC expansions was highlighted by the idea of letting studios break free and truly experiment with new and strange creations that would otherwise not likely see the light of day. Shivering Isles is perhaps the greatest example of that era.

Oblivion’s Atmosphere is Consistent and Helps Tell a Story

I will freely admit that the province of Cyrodiil isn’t always the most interesting place. There are certainly times when it comes across as “Capital City, Fantasyland.”

Yet, there’s a consistency to Oblivion’s atmosphere that I remain fascinated with years after its release. While Morrowind’s alien-like worlds are hard to beat from a pure design perspective and Skyrim’s tundras offer a welcome deviation from the most common fantasy tropes, there’s something about the way that everything flows in Oblivion that I’d argue Bethesda has never quite replicated.

Individual regions of Oblivion’s map manage to remain distinct while also feeling like the logical progression of the area you just arrived from and the area you’re going to. There’s also something to be said for how Oblivion sells the idea of people battling to protect their land from invasion and corruption by presenting a fantasy world that you might actually want to live in.

Get Past Their Voice Acting, and Oblivion Might Have the Best NPCs in any Elder Scrolls Game

I’d like to argue that Oblivion’s “bad” voice acting and awkward NPC designs actually give the game a personality you don’t find in refined titles, but I understand that some rough edges are hard to ignore.

Instead, let’s focus on the ways that Oblivion’s NPCs are advanced even by modern design standards. Nearly every NPC in Oblivion has a personality of their own, something unique to say to you, and will legitimately go about a daily schedule that even changes from day to day due to their ability to make dynamic decisions rather than simply follow a tightly scripted path.

At a time when developers are sometimes more interested in putting more characters on-screen rather than crafting richer NPCs (looking at you Cyberpunk 2077), there’s something undeniably refreshing about a game that emphasizes offering more unique interactions rather than simply relying on the quantity of NPCs.

Oblivion Let You Build Wild (and Broken) Characters

The “highlight” of Oblivion‘s character-building system in the minds of many fans will undoubtedly be the time they discovered it’s possible to make a truly invisible character who can pretty much do whatever they want. That kind of mechanical exploitation is certainly one of the most noteworthy examples of how Oblivion let you run wild with the characters you created.

Yet, when I think back on my hours with Oblivion, the kinds of broken characters I appreciate most are the ones who didn’t make it far. While Oblivion’s enemy scaling system has been (often rightfully) criticized for its shortcomings, there’s something to be said for how the game’s attempts at offering a consistent challenge level meant that your design decisions were tested more often throughout the game.

It wasn’t a perfect system, but when compared to a game like Skyrim, or even titles like Destiny, where building a viable character is really about reaching higher levels and reaping the rewards, I miss, at the very least, Oblivion’s attempts to challenge me to master the character I built and the times it would actively punish my worst decisions.

Oblivion is Less About Combat and More About Adventure

In terms of pure combat, Skyrim is really in a class of its own when compared to the other Elder Scrolls games. Its improved controls, cinematic qualities, and smoother animations are more than enough to make it the favorite among Elder Scrolls fans looking for the best action.

I certainly recognize that some of Oblivion’s combat system problems are the result of bad decisions and outdated technology, but years later, I really appreciate how the game was never really about the action; it was about the adventure. Much like how Fellowship of the Ring utilized action sequences as the response to danger that our heroes otherwise tried to avoid, combat in Oblivion is just one of those things that you’ll come across as you explore but isn’t necessarily meant to be the grand set piece or the big draw.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

While Oblivion’s main questline betrays this philosophy somewhat during its most action-heavy (and often worst) moments, there’s still a sense that the game is more about exploration, storytelling, and the little discoveries you make along the way rather than a desire to get you to the next big sequence or other chances to simply fuel a power fantasy.

The post Why Oblivion is Still the Best Elder Scrolls Game appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3vjIt9R

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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howrry · 5 years ago

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ice

a/n: finally! i’m settled into skool lyfe and bella is back in business bitch (we love alliteration) here is that full fic of ice i’ve been hinting at :~)

w/c: 4.2k

warnings: this fic has an age gap of about 4 years and one of the characters is an older teenager! this is totally legal where i’m from but if it’s not where you are or it makes you uncomfortable then maybe don’t read this? also smut

***

Waiting for that one Facetime was like watching a huge pot of water boil. It was cliché, but you were running out of mundane things to do since you’d gotten home from uni. Seriously—laundry, reorganizing your soulless childhood room, even fully unpacking despite having weeks to get comfortable. Of course, as soon as you came back, you had your reunion with your parents and other family, but you hadn’t quite reached the seeing-friends phase of coming home.

At least, not until that lovely ringtone hummed through your room and you pounced on the bed, swiping on Gemma’s beautiful face. “Babe!” you cried.

“Hush,” she joked, crunching on a red apple on her side of the screen. You could hear her turn down the volume by clicking the buttons on her phone.

“Are you ready for me, then?” you asked, bouncing up and down on your tippy toes.

“No, don’t want to see you,” she crunched again, “just wanted to call to see how your mum’s doing. Of course I’m ready, twit!”

“Watch your language!” you chastised. “But I’ll be over in a New York minute.”

Getting ready was a rush—at this point you were just ready to get down the street. You shoved your feet into your Birks and grabbed your phone and keys, and once you’d padded down the stairs, your parents merely got a “be at Gem’s, later!” before you slammed the door.

When you got there, it was Harry who greeted you. You’d knocked and waited, since their house was always locked anyways. He threw the door open so fast that his cross necklace was still swinging when he rested his head on his forearm propped up on the doorframe. “Sorry, we don’t want any Girl Scout cookies,” he joked, smirking around his own jab.

“Ha ha ha,” you sarcastically bit. “Move it, Fisher-Price, I’m here for your sister.”

“I had a great semester, thank yeh for askin’,” he smiled, moving back and letting you in. “What about y’self?”

“It was productive, actually. Good to see you again, H,” you responded congenially. Ahh, the smell of your friend’s home was so nostalgic and inviting. It was fall all year round with the pumpkin in the living room, vanilla in the foyer, pine needles upstairs…

“Likewise,” he winked just before you went upstairs to your friend’s room.

Harry had always been a little charmer. Anne raised him to be very polite and he was naturally entertaining despite his introverted tendencies, but he’d always been Gemma’s annoying little brother to you. He always tried to butt into your hangouts with her, as far back as when he was four and you were eight and he wanted to play outside with you two, up to when he was 15 and you were 19 and he tried to buy beer from Gemma.

But soon, things changed. Harry got taller and his voice dropped and his skin got clear, and suddenly he wasn’t just the annoying little brother anymore. He was almost an adult, and he certainly developed a way with girls. The first time you went to see Gem and Harry had a girl over, something you couldn’t describe churned in your stomach. There’s no way Harry didn’t notice the way you cut your eyes when you initially saw her.

Ever since then, he just took a different light in your eyes. Going to Gemma’s house suddenly had double the benefits since you were seeing your best friend and her stupid hot little brother. If she left you alone for any period of time, you’d do anything to get Harry’s attention. He would chat with this amused smirk, one hand in his pocket and the other fiddling with his cross necklace, as if he knew you were subtly pining.

It was honestly kind of pathetic. He was still in high school, and you were in the home stretch of university. You had a potential hook-up pool that was at least five times the size of his and a much better selection, yet you were yearning for a guy who can’t even buy his own cigarettes.

But you didn’t care, and obviously Harry didn’t either. He humored your goofy flirting and gave it right back to you. For the most part, it was just harmless compliments and light schoolyard jabs and never escalated past that, until, well, it did.

You were going to go to brunch with Gemma that day. She’d gotten a part-time job as a photographer’s intern downtown that year, and invited you to try a new café with her. It was the perfect excuse to wear that flowy Free People dress you got, so you agreed.

While getting ready, Gemma called you in a panic. “Y/N! I forgot my wallet on my vanity at home,” she breathed. “Do you mind getting it before coming over?”

“Not a problem,” you hummed, checking your lipstick.

“Thanks, love. My mum left the front door unlocked when she got in this morning so just make yourself at home looking for it. See you soon!” Gemma blew a kiss into the phone before hanging up.

Her front door was open, just like she warned, and you hopped up the stairs to her room. Unfortunately, Gemma was more of the messy type, so finding her wallet was no easy task. Her vanity was covered in makeup and hair care bottles and papers from the previous semester. Where the hell could the wallet possibly be?

“Looking for somethin’?” Harry asked, leaning on the door frame with a Coke can in hand.

You looked up, pushing the hair that had fallen in your face to the side. “Need your sister’s wallet. It’s brunch time.”

“Ooh, bring me back a ricotta toast,” he ordered, reaching into Gemma’s Louis purse hanging by her door and pulling out her black wallet.

“You’d be lucky if I brought back a napkin,” you sneered, taking the wallet from him and going to shove past him.

He blocked your exit and held a hand up to your shoulder. “Wait, doll. Your earring is twisted backwards.” The hand that stopped you trailed up to softly ghost across your face and fix your earring, which must have gotten tangled in your wild goose chase.

Fuck, he was close. You could hear the soft breaths fanning out from his nostrils, his almost disinterested gaze slowly morphing into his classic smirk, and hand not leaving your skin in a timely fashion. His piercing green eyes rendered you stupidly frozen.

And the tension snapped. Within minutes he had you out of your dress and was fucking you into Gemma’s floral duvet. Everything was happening so fast; you didn’t even stop to think about how wrong it was. The feel of his teeth dragging across your neck and the stretch of his cock inside you were really the only things on your mind at that point.

It was rough and quick and dirty (and quite possibly the hottest thing you’ve ever done) but by the time you two were adjusting yourselves and catching your breath, you were twenty minutes late to lunch. You blamed it on traffic and Gemma didn’t care to push it.

So that’s how it started. It wasn’t anything exclusive, it wasn’t intimate, and it certainly wasn’t something you talked about outside of the bedroom. “The bedroom” being figurative, of course, since Harry and you liked to get it on whenever you had the chance. It wasn’t weird if you ended up bent over a washing machine or on your knees in front of him pressed up against the wall in a hallway.

When you thought about it, like reallypondered in a hot shower, you knew it was fucked up to be doing what you’re doing. It’s not like it was illegal—you just felt like you were betraying Gemma. You were closer to her than anyone else in the world and you were sneaking around with her brother.

He didn’t make it fair, though. He was so poised and smooth and fucked like he wasn’t still in AP Physics. The way he bantered with not only you but his sister and mother was definitely more witty than most boys his age. It only made sense to let him rearrange your guts.

So you had a bit of an internal dilemma. Frankly, if your little affair is well kept from Gemma, it shouldn’t be a problem at all. So you thought.

***

“So, do you have lice or something?” Gemma asked, raising an eyebrow from behind her magazine. The two of you had finally settled into winter break time and were taking turns spending at each other’s houses. Today, it was girls’ night at the Styles’ home.

You froze, one hand ruthlessly digging in your hair. “What? No. There’s just a wicked knot in my hair and I can’t get it out.” It was in the most unfortunate location on the back of your scalp, and your fingers could make no sense of the mat of hair.

“Do you need some help?” she offered, setting down her literature.

You reared back even though she was sitting at her desk across the room. “Gross, you just painted your nails! No thanks. Besides, I think I’m getting it.”

She shrugged and blew on her soft blue nails. “Whatever. I’m getting a yogurt.”

“I want one too,” you hummed, sliding off her comfortable duvet and gently pulling out a few strands of broken hair. A tiny plopaccompanied your feet on the rug and you spun in confusion. The noise was too soft to be a phone, but you still checked that yours was in your pocket. Barely visible in the fibers of the shag rug rested a solid black metallic ring. It was Harry’s.

You stared at it in horror. The ring had been in your goddamn hair. Earlier that day you’d given Harry a blowjob that left him slack-jawed and pink-cheeked and his hands had been so tangled up in your hair that your hair stole his ring. Which just fell out onto the floor in Gemma’s room.

“Is that Harry’s ring?” she hissed, gaze locking on the ring standing out from the white rug.

Oh no. Oh fuck oh fuck fuck fuck—

“He’s such a twat. Why does he leave his jewelry everywhere? You could’ve stepped on that!” she continued, reaching down to pick it up. “I’m gonna throw it in the trash.”

When she moved to her trash bin, your eyes widened and you squealed a “don’t!” That ring was really nice and you knew Harry would be devastated if she threw it out.

Gemma turned slowly. “Why?”

Your mind raced to think of a good excuse. “Because, if you throw out a ring he wears all the time, he’ll throw out something of yours that youcherish.” You gestured towards her vanity where the Tiffany box sat. She’d just bought herself a necklace for doing so well on her exams and you knew that Harry would retaliate with it.

Your best friend eyed the necklace and then the ring in her fingers. “You’re right,” she finally agreed. You let out a huge breath—there was always the risk of being too weird about Harry and blowing your own cover, but once Gemma ducked into her brother’s room and pinged Harry’s back with the ring, you knew the cover was totally intact.

***

God, you didn’t want to party. The break ended next week and soon it’d be books and schedules and debt again. Who could be shotgunning 4Lokos at a time like this?! Plus, none of the bars were open this day of the week so the only option was a freakin’ house party. What uni students over the age of 21 go to house parties?

But Gemma wanted to, and what she wants, she gets. Though you loved her tenacious attitude at times, all you cared about right now was taking off your revealing top and climbing into bed.

You nursed on straight Coke in the kitchen and absentmindedly watched Gemma go hard. You trusted her and vice versa; she knew her limits but still could have a really, really good time. The men of the party were in awe as she threw back tequila and slapped the bag right after, and even the inside of yourmouth was feeling withered just watching her.

“Hey, there,” you heard from off to the side. You casually lulled your head over to see a shockingly attractive guy. He had thick, dark hair with a sprinkling of light brown freckles on the bridge of his nose.

“Hi. You lost?” you joked, moving to make room on the upholstered bench next to you, where the mystery man joined you.

“Not anymore.” Mm. The faint scent of alcoholic breath wafted to your face but this stranger was keeping his composure quite well. “I’m Russell.”

“Y/N, pleasure,” you hummed, shaking his hand.

He started chatting you up, but to be fair, it was in one ear and out the other. He was clearly throwing words to the wind, and not even his good looks or nice cologne could draw your attention. It wasn’t like Harry, who could entice you with conversations about chopped liver if he so wanted to.

Ahh, Harry. You wondered what he was up to right now. He was probably at a party himself, drinking watery beer and flirting with any bird with eyelash extensions that gave him attention. God, why were you getting so jealous of him? You certainly didn’t owe him any loyalty and neither did he. In fact, if you so desired, you could go out and get laid right now and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it!

Your attention drifted back to the cute boy next to you. Somehow, as Russell droned on about his recent physics prof, you started to see Harry in his features. Certainly not in anything coming out of his mouth, but the curls that flopped down into his face were just like H’s after he’s played footy all day. Russell’s hands had prominent veins on them, just like Harry’s hands when they were grabbing at your skin and smacking your ass. Even the way he toyed with his bottom lip while thinking aloud.

Though H was really the last person you wanted on your mind right now, all these physical thoughts were making Russell more and more attractive by the minute. He wasn’t Harry, but maybe he could be Great Value Harry. You reciprocated his flirty chatter and got touchy with him, and things quickly devolved into kissing in the corner of the kitchen you two occupied.

Things were happening surprisingly fast for how sober you were. You went upstairs with him, you made out with him on a random bed, you undressed each other, and before you knew it he was rolling on a condom and pushing himself into you.

It wasn’t necessarily that it was bad sex. Russell had soft lips that kissed your neck as he thrusted and he certainly wasn’t small, but it didn’t really blow you out of the water. Your toes didn’t curl and your eyes didn’t roll back into your skull. He even lasted a decent amount of time, but once you made your mind up about not getting an O, you kinda just wanted it to end.

Once it did, he got busy falling asleep and you tried to not take it personally (c’mon, it’s pretty taxing for a guy to cum). You tugged your clothes back on and went out to look for Gemma, and of course she was upstairs as well, throwing up into a bathroom trashcan.

“Hey, Gem, how you feel?” you asked, rubbing at her back and tucking your hair behind your ears.

“Better now that this is out of me. Wanna go home?” she mumbled, sighing and wistfully staring at the toilet that she was seconds from making it into.

“Yep. C’mon, I’ll call an Uber,” you said to no one, hoisting a lackadaisical Gemma onto your shoulder and out of the house.

Once home, getting Gemma situated was the most difficult part. Her mother worked late and Harry was probably out, but even without the chance of running into one of her family members, she was still heavy. Her choice to not use her legs at all certainly didn’t do you any favors, either.

When the front door opened and the familiar smell of her abode hit Gemma’s nose, she perked up. It became minimally easier to hoist her up the stairs and into her bed. You did your best to scrub at the makeup that had lasted through her dancing and puking without waking her, but she was so tired and lulled to sleep by her drinks that an earthquake wouldn’t make her stir for at least eight hours. You nodded at the unopened cheap water on her nightstand, reminding yourself to get her a reusable bottle.

Your work was done. Gemma was snoring smoothly within minutes with a clean face and a drink waiting for her in the morning. You got laid, even though you were completely sober, it wasn’t exactly a great dick review, and you’re a 21-year-old who got fucked at a house party. Maybe it was just time to go home and accept the night for… whatever it was. You padded downstairs softly despite the minor coma your best friend was in. Common courtesy, you supposed.

Thump.

Face first into a chest. It was totally dark in the house and you definitely didn’t expect there to be a solid torso in Gemma’s living room for you to bump into. A sharp gasp filled your lungs and the figure reached behind and clicked the lamp on. Harry, of course.

“Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me,” you breathed, slapping a hand to your chest.

“It’s my house,” he grumbled. As your eyes adjusted to the light, you saw his puffy eyes and messy hair and wrinkled clothes. He’d been sleeping.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you? I thought you’d be out.” Just seeing him in such a soft state made your lower belly swirl.

He shook his head a bit. “What are y’doing here?”

“Went to a party with Gem. She got too wild so I put her to bed,” you bluntly explained.

Harry pursed his lips, crossing his arms and eyeing you focusedly. “Did you have a good time?”

“No,” you answered quickly, because you didn’t. “I didn’t drink and I had to take care of Gemma and I fucked someone.” That last part fell out of your mouth before you had a chance to think twice.

There were a few beats of a heavy silence and you wondered if you made a mistake. “Did they fuck you good, baby?” he finally asked, no emotion inflecting his words.

You couldn’t have been less prepared for that response. “No,” you whimpered, face getting hot at his critical stare.

“Oh, doll, they couldn’t fuck yeh like I can, huh?” His voice was pure sex—every response he had to you threw you off more than the last. Everything he said just floated off his tongue and danced into the room and onto whosever’s ears they were around.

“No, they couldn’t,” you choked out. You felt like your throat was closing. “No one fucks me like you do and I can’t understand it. I shouldn’t be seeing you because it’s so wrong but...” God, shut up shut up shut up. Your word vomit amused Harry beyond belief. The smug look on his face was making you feel even smaller than his height already did.

“Oh, I know what you’re sayin’, doll,” he laughed. “You wanna do the right thing by m’sister but yeh just can’t. Deep down y’know you’ll always come back to me, hmm?” Harry took a step towards you, and you completely froze. You thought that he was about to bend down and kiss you but he surprised you yet again by snapping a hand up and gripping it around your neck. “I own you, y’hear me?”

You nodded, or at least the best you could with his vice grip on you. Every breath you tried to take stopped short in the back of your throat, and it almost felt like your feet were about to lift off the ground. Your own hands flew up to claw at Harry’s hand before his grip finally softened. A thick gasp sucked in and your legs threatened to not support your body, but he grabbed at you and steadied you. His fingers grazed your quivering lips. “Who’s mouth is this?” he asked, intently staring.

“Yours,” it came out as a whisper. Normally he’d be much meaner and wouldn’t accept such a quiet response, but he was feeling generous, apparently. He leaned down and kissed you, sucking in on your bottom lip and biting the red flesh.

The two of you made your way down to the couch, such that you were straddling Harry and he was cupping at your ass. Your hair kept falling in your faces, but he didn’t care and continued to kiss you and grab at your throat.

He took a break and leaned back on the couch, taking his time to lazily cup at the soft skin behind your thighs. “Mmm, and who’s ass is this?” When you breathed out another “yours” he smacked it audibly. “Goddamn right, pet.”

He didn’t take your shirt off, nor any of his clothes. He lifted you just enough for you to tug your shorts and panties down, and for him to pull his leaking cock out of his dark sweats. You tried to tease for a moment, grinding your bare center against him, but he put a stop to that. “Do I even have t’ask if this is mine?” he growled, assertively cupping your cunt with his big hand. You shook your head and he smirked, guiding his tip up and down your slit.

“Nope, because I know it’s mine,” he whispered, letting you slip his whole length inside your wet pussy. He shoved his hands up the back of your shirt, dragging his nails down the soft skin. Once you’d bottomed out and you were desperately grinding your clit against his pubic bone, he put a hand flat on your chest. “Lean back and ride me, pet.”

You obeyed to the best of your ability. You put your hands behind you on his knees and shifted your weight back, allowing him to fully watch himself disappear into you. The coarse, dark curls at the base of his member lightly stimulated your clit on the downstrokes, making you helplessly whimper while you fucked yourself on him.

“Are yeh sure you fucked someone?” he grunted. “So fuckin’ tight, I just don’t believe it.” His fingers snaked down and played around with your clit, which undoubtedly threw off your bouncing. Your hips begged to stay down and enjoy the circles he was tracing over your button, but he wouldn’t let you. His free hand went to your hip, just above where it bent into your thigh, and guided you to start moving again. “Uh-uh. Keep ridin’ me, love. I know yeh can keep a rhythm, hmm?”

So you kept riding. The pressure of his tip ghosting around your G-spot combined with him stimulating your clit was making it difficult to stay quiet. Sure, Gem was asleep, but she wasn’t dead, and if you made a ridiculous amount of noise, she’d definitely investigate.

“Gonna cum, aren’t yeh?” he asked, and fuck, he was right. That knot was already starting to form in your lower belly.. “I can tell. Yeh gonna let go, all over m’cock? Gonna make a mess fo’ me?”

His words caused you to spill over, and you were no longer able to hold yourself up leaning back. He was very forgiving of this, and let you grab at his shoulders while riding out your high. Once you’d stopped shaking and panting into his neck, he thrusted his hips up into you once, twice, three times and came inside of you with a grunt and some more nail-digging, this time into your thighs.

And then it was silent. You meekly got off of him and shakily pulled your shorts back up. You two quietly redressed, Harry nearly dead from his draining orgasm and you weak in the legs from your sexual workout. The only noise was the scratch of fabric on fabric and your shared heavy breathing. Finally, when you were gathering your things to leave, Harry spoke in his sultry, hoarse voice.

“I like when you come around,” he smiled, and you immediately returned it. It didn’t seem like much, but this was Harry’s way of expressing affection. Regardless of how good he was in bed or how witty and charming he came off, he was still a goofy teenage boy who had trouble talking about his emotions.

A little giggle came out of your nostrils. “Thanks, Haz.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, hmm?” he asked, pinning that unconfident noise at the end despite knowing you’d be back. He was already relaxing, crossing his arms behind his head and lazily eyeing you scramble towards the front door.

“Yeah,” you dreamily affirmed, giving a quick wave to Harry (which he goofily returned) and floating out the front door. “Tomorrow,” you said to the empty street in front of you, toying with your car keys in your hands.

#yahtzeeeeeee #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harryforvogue #permanentcross #jawllines #haroldloverboy #inwhichitrytowritesomething #adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy

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klappert-art · 4 years ago

Text

A weird and long step by step

((this probably isn’t a good tutorial, no one asked for this, i just want to write something)) If you think too much words just read the bold ones. Program used is Clip Studio Paint Pro. I bought it in summer 2018 with 50% sale, really worth it if you ask me.

I start off with rough sketch, usually the draft was just stickman (i deleted the layer so there’s no such thing in the GIF) using Redjuice’s flatbrush, or I do this step traditionally using pencil and paper then took a photo of it

rough lineart, well I’m bad in lineart so this one particular lineart will be our final lineart, or maybe I would redraw this again just to make sure of the composition & detail. I’m using the default (rough?) pencil tool

blocking the figure. To save lives, make sure do this in new layer. Using default G-Pen tool in desaturated (or gray) colors. This step will help if you want to make background.

uhh rough colors?? I never prepared color palette beforehand so I just brush off colors to see how they work. Still with Redjuice’s flat brush with different pressure. I did this until I’m satisfied. Usually I use complementary colors in base color and highlight (eg if the basecolor blue, then the highlight will be yellow/red). For shadows just around saturated/desaturate colors. In this step defining values is important. This step is very necessary for me because I like colorful things, so sometimes just splashing colors into drawings and it ended up ugly.

make folder of all usable layers, then duplicate folder, then merge. I try to keep my layers in minimum due to my laptop’s low spec. I also have too much experience of wrong layer so in the end let’s just merge all of them. Usually I separate between background, figure (the one blocked before), and eyes cuz eyes are frickin hard for me. Maybe more if there are details.

Render pretty much self-explanatory, for this style I’m using this watercolor brush. Altough in 90% of my drawings I also use this brush. Start with the pic’s focal point I mean if you draw people usually the most important part is the face, then try to make it as best as you can. I will not move to the next part until I finished the face, especially.. eyEs.. Just pick colors by pressing alt then brush everything.

better explanation. skin: I used saturated color for the lines, then paler colors. nose: idk i usually make noses more saturated than the rest. eyes: dark top, then some highlight in the middle, and bright desaturated color in the bottom.. pretty much basic anime eyes. For all parts I start off by drawing lines (aka painting lineart)

Hair is my fav part, but also hardest aside from eyes. I just make some blob at first, then lines, then render by making triangle or rhombus of colors

Render the rest until u satisfied (I’m very sorry at this worthless effort of explaining), just follow the rough color created before

Make it fancy. I just airbrushed red/orange in overlay layer. Then some droplet from default brush. If necessary a color balance layer and curves can help too.

That’s all. Sorry for too much words lol. I just happen to have some rough weeks hahA. Anyway I’ve posted several drawings in this style before, my favorite is this one (top), and these posts also used similar style/technique: 1 2 3. If anyone want a better and more detailed tutorial just let me know, so I’m sure what I did can be useful for someone...Thanks if anyone read this.

#tutorial #i believe this post will not show up in tumblr's search result #step by step #art tutorial #...i guess? hope this inspired someone huhuehaha #long post

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pycverse · 4 years ago

Photo

This is something I felt I’d do for fun, given it’s PYC anniversary today!

Yes, as a graphic design nerd this kind of thing is fun lol. By the way, the “DD” referred to is Drunkduck, PYC’s original host (it’s called “The Duck Webcomics” now).

Transcript after the break for Screen Reader/other uses of non-image text:

PYC Logo History

[[Image: Pokémon Yellow Comics's first logo, on a red backdrop.]] May 31, 2006 PYC debuts, and so does this logo, adorning the Comic in all its rough glory. It's basically just an edit & reshuffling of the source game's logo. The font for "Comics" is Dotum.

[[Image: PYC's second logo, on a red backdrop.]] Jun 21, 2006 As early as Comic #4, the logo already begins evolving. The yellow pixel artifacts have been cleaned up, and the space between "Pokémon" and the speech bubble was made yellow to separate the elements more.

[[Image: PYC's third logo, on a gray gradient backdrop.]] Oct 4, 2006 A very short-lived logo. It only appears on Comic #13, which itself has a graphic design style unique to that Comic only. This logo is the previous one but with an emboss effect, which has the unfortunate side effect of making the word "Yellow" undicipherable.

[[Image: PYC's fourth logo, acronym version.]] [[Image: PYC's fourth logo, full title version.]] Oct 16, 2006 Debuting on Comic #14 (incidentally the final sprite page before the change to drawn), this logo sees the first (and certainly not last) use of the font "Psiphoon BB", a Blambot font that just screams "mid-2000s". Teenage Rokko saw a lot of appeal in this font and besides now splitting the logo into acronym and full title variants, she branded everything possible in the old DD layout with this font. Buttons, affiliate links, extra page, that kind of stuff. The graphic design language heavily leans on a yellow-and-dark gray color scheme.

Interestingly, the acronym version, as seen on Comics #14-66, has a slight gradient as well as navy trim.

Variants

[[Image: Clip of the acronym logo in a black-and-white style.]] Miru Wallpaper [[Image: Acronym logo in an orange cloudy style.]] Halloween 2007 [[Image: Acronym logo in alternating red & green colors, with a snowstorm effect.]] Holiday 2009 [[Image: A hand-drawn version of the logo, with "Happy Birthday" added.]] First Anniversary, 2007 (an attempt was made to draw the Psiphoon font) [[Image: Acronym logo with a gradient and slight glow.]] Nozo Wallpaper [[Image: The acronym logo in gray, over a yellow glossy button.]] Button [[Images: Four examples of buttons and banners intended for affiliate linking.]] Various Linking Buttons/Banners

[[Image: PYC's fourth logo, acronym version, but with flat styling.]] From Comic #67-120, the acronym version of the logo was rendered in flat yellow, like this but also very small. (The title bar at the time was tiny.)

[[Image: PYC's fourth logo, full title version, with a heavy glow effect.]] DD title logo, from all I can gather, was after 2006 but before 2010. [[Image: PYC's fourth logo, with a glow but also 3-D effect.]] 2010-2016 DD logo

Weird Sidetrack Nov 6, 2006 [[Image: A very different logo for PYC, it's rendered as the full title: "Pokémon Yellow Comics".]] This logo appears on a piece of promotional artwork for PYC on Rokko's DeviantArt.

It's bizarre in the fact that it's artifacted to heck, and uses the official Pokémon logo, right down to retaining the Registered Trademark symbol, and the font useage isn't Psiphoon BB but rather, Lowrider BB, and with an unflattering stroke weight to boot. What is interesting is the use of the navy speech bubble, which featured in the original PYC logo but would also make a grand return with the 2016 logo. Speaking of which...

[[Image: PYC's 2016 logo, acronym version. The letter "Y" has a thunderbolt styling and is on a navy speech bubble.]] [[Image: PYC's 2016 logo, full title version.]] May 31, 2016 For PYC's 10th anniversary, the logo was significantly overhauled. Bringing back the nacy speech bubble and with a lighter shade of yellow (as well as overall reducing the surrounding graphic design palette's reliance on dark gray), this logo wears the connection to Pokémon on its sleeve, with the yellow with navy stroke, as well as the new styling for the word "Yellow", which combines Pokémon's letterform styling with a thunderbolt twist, to relfect Nozo, naturally. Psiphoon BB is still kept for the "Pokémon" and "Comics", and now the "E" has an accent mark (custom-made since Psiphoon doesn't support the diacritic.)

Neither logo is used on the Comics themselves, but instead the Comics have the Number inside a navy speech bubble, in Psiphoon BB, so it fits in with the logos' design language.

[[Image: A Sample version of the title bar in newer PYC Comic Pages.]]

#pyc webcomic #graphic design nerdery #long post

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comicteaparty · 4 years ago

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Webcomic Recommendations

Check out this plethora of webcomic recommendations archived from Comic Tea Party’s Webcomic Recommendations Channel!

Nutty (Court of Roses)

Children of Shadow: Ashes https://spiderforest.com/comics/children-of-shadow-ashes/ Genre: Anthro/Horror/Urban Fantasy Trigger Warnings: Rated Mature for blood, gore, and intense scenes Reasons: Some of the most lovely pencil work I've ever seen, well-rendered animal art and a compelling world!(edited)

Heirs of the Veil https://spiderforest.com/comics/heirs-of-the-veil/ Genre: Drama/Urban Fantasy Trigger Warnings: Rated PG-16+ for transphobia, dysphoria, mental illness, blood, trauma, body horror Reasons: Absolutely gorgeous artwork, really compelling illustrations of the lgbt experience

Aloe https://spiderforest.com/comics/aloe/ Genre: Adventure/Drama/Sci-Fi Trigger Warnings: Rated Teen for violence and blood Reasons: I'm normally not into sci-fi but this comic is so bright and colorful, I really love it a lot. Also the main character is non-binary!

Millennium https://spiderforest.com/comics/millennium/ Genre: Adventure/Fantasy/Sci-fi Trigger Warnings: Rated PG-13 for Mild Violence and Mild Language Reasons: Lovely art, fun characters, and an engaging space world! I love it so so much.

Sombulus https://spiderforest.com/comics/sombulus/ Genre: Adventure/Comedy/Fantast Trigger Warnings: Rated Young Adult, no warnings Reasons: An absolute blast, super fun story and characters, with a nice long archive too!

Arbalest https://spiderforest.com/comics/arbalest/ Genre: Fantasy/Horror Trigger Warnings: Rated Mature for partial nudity, blood/gore, sex, themes of abuse Reasons: A really compelling story in a non-traditional narrative style, and super spooky to boot.

And finally, to top this off, I'll drop in my own comic as well! Court of Roses https://spiderforest.com/comics/court-of-roses/ Genre: Adventure/Fantasy/Comedy Trigger Warnings: Rated Teen, for Fantasy Violence and Alcohol Use Reasons: Because this is my comic and it's my pride and joy and I love my bards a lot. :3

AntiBunny

Dead Winter http://deadwinter.cc/ Genre: Zombie Apocalypse Trigger Warnings: Violent Reasons: Well it's a straightforward zombie survival comic. What's impressive is how well the artist has studied comics as an art form and put thought and purpose into every panel.

HiddenElephant

http://welcome2earth.webcomic.ws/ Snarky alien crashes onto Earth. Not enough people are reading it in my opinion.

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

Super Galaxy Knights Deluxe R: http://sgkdr.thecomicseries.com/ Genre: Action, Comedy Trigger Warnings: Blood, Dismemberment Reasons: A recommendation for @Goobatron . It's my comic. The creator is me. Super Galaxy Knights is a story about Mizuki Sato, who goes on adventures through a strange world, making friends along the way. The dialogue is like... 70% banter, 30% total non-sequiturs. The art style uses 3D models, in like a weird cel-shaded style that's meant to be reminiscent of games like Wind Waker and Dragon Ball FighterZ. And there's also a bunch of animated panels/pages. There's also a ton of really strange characters. Like there's a dude whose power is that he always wins knife fights. There's a wizard who shrinks hot dogs and carries them around in capsules. Etc. One warning - the early pages are a bit rough-looking. Some have been redrawn recently, but others haven't yet, so it can be a bit jarring to go back and forth between styles.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Clockwork http://www.clockwork-comic.com/ Genre: Fantasy / Drama CW: Some language and violence Clockwork is a comic about Cog Kleinshmidt, a moody teenager with an uncanny talent for repairing machinery. He feels he’s a nobody, but is swept into the turbulent world of politics, and is forced to learn magic in a world where magic is strictly forbidden. The art in this comic is incredibly polished and lively, and the characters are all instantly endearing. The writing is also top-notch. The first time I read it, I was completely sucked in after only a few pages. It’s currently on hiatus while the creator prepares the next chapter, but it’s well worth the wait.(edited)

Moral_Gutpunch

Micheal Morbius: Freelance Vampire http://freelancevampire.thecomicseries.com/ Genre: Drama, comedy Trigger: mentions of death and violence, talk of abusive relationships, mention of rape. It's all in dialog. Micheal Morbius, from Marvel comics, struggles to adjust to a as normal a life as a vampire can have. He helps a friend get back on her feet, he goes through therapy, and he's visited by Spider-heroes, this time a new one. Meanwhile, a true monster lurks int he shadows. The art isn't good, but the story and dialog are worth it. It's my comic. I hope after I get a few more pages going people will enjoy the story. It's a story I've been wanting to write for ages and I figured I'm not going to write for Marvel anytime soon (yes, I checked copyright law, Marvel allows this). Dedicated to Stan Lee.

Pakky

The Boy Who Fell http://boywhofell.com/ Genre: Drama, Adventure, Action, Comedy TW: Violence, blood, fighting, ptsd, suicide, death Synopsis (from the website): The Boy Who Fell revolves around an innocent, softhearted and almost-spineless boy named Ren who suddenly finds himself in Hell after accidentally falling off a school rooftop. He is then forced to partake in a tournament full of powerful and vicious beings in order to attain his only way of going home: an all-powerful wish from the ruler of Hell himself. As the story progresses, lines between allies and enemies are blurred, dark pasts are revealed, political issues come to light and all the while, Ren slowly realizes that in order to survive this journey, he might have to give up the very things that make him human I love this webcomic and have been following this artist for over 10 years now and recommend their work to anyone who will listen haha! Super long running webcomic with a well developed storyline and world.

Shizamura 🌟 O Sarilho

Broken http://broken.spiderforest.com/ Genre: Horror Trigger Warnings: Military, death, monsters Reasons: Broken offers a very interesting twist on the concepts of fairies, presenting you with a fairy general on the battlefield fighting against corrupted abominations. The concepts and worldbuilding here are very interesting and the battle/action scenes are great. Often makes use of animation and some HTML/CSS for extra effect. Of Magic and Muses https://xiicomic.com/magic-and-muses/ Genre: Magical Girls, mystery Trigger Warnings: There's a big monster at some point? Reasons: It's a magical girl story! Except nobody knows what's happening, the powers the girls get are maybe not of a friendly nature and they wear armor? The escalation of events is suberb. It has a large (and growing) cast, but each character has their own unique personality, making them super easy to follow and love. Ghost Junk Sickness https://www.ghostjunksickness.com/ Genre: action, sci-fi Trigger Warnings: violence, limb loss, death Reasons: There's a lot to be said about this comic! I really like the characters, who are deeply flawed and charming and make a lot of mistakes (the main duo having an especially interesting, yet sorta problematic dynamic). The worldbuilding is interesting and quirky to match. The mysterious bounty The Ghost is a looming presence, and apparently we'll be learning more about them soon. Super exciting and fun action scenes too!

Desnik

https://monsterhead.net/ Genre: LGBT+ American rural occult fantasy Trigger Warnings: Animal death, mild body horror Reasons: The author/artist is an OC-loving member of the LGBT+ community, and her work deals with self-love in the face of weird circumstances. Love the colors, Carter is an appealing and relatable main character, and the worldbuilding is something I've never seen before.

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

http://www.phantomarine.com/ Genre: Fantasy, Supernatural Trigger Warnings: Death, Mild Body Horror, Mild Violence, Mild Language Reasons: ...This is my comic! (edited)

Phantomarine is a spooky-but-sweet fantasy webcomic about a ghostly princess and her perilous journey across a haunted sea, hoping to save her soul from a devious, shapeshifting death god known as the Red Tide King. Expect all manner of maritime mysteries – monstrous sea creatures, sacred lighthouses, strange afflictions, accursed marauders, feuding gods, grand sea battles, and a heaping helping of humor in-between.

eliushi [Keyspace]

https://tapas.io/series/KEYSPACE-A-Winged-Tale/ https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/keyspace-a-winged-tale/list?title_no=322364 Genre: YA Science Fantasy, LGBT+ Trigger warnings: Mild body horror/violence/monsters, death Reasons: My comic Blurb: Florence thought her idyllic life living with the winged beings would last forever. However, when her mother disappears from a mysterious expedition, she fears for the worst. Through exploring hidden laboratory tunnels beneath the forest, facing Machines from a century-long war against humans, and seeking guidance from the Lost people from a civilization gone by, Flo and her winged friends must piece together the past in order to save all those they love.

Shizamura 🌟 O Sarilho

O Sarilho https://www.sarilho.net/en Genre: Post-Apocaliptic/Sci-fi Trigger Warnings: War, military, death Reasons: I make it Short description: A small team goes on a mission to enemy territory to find the remains of an ancient satellite and they end up finding a lot more. There are computers and dams and electricity-worshipping future romans (edited)

GGY

Tile: Over 8 Miles https://tapas.io/episode/859067 Genre: Drama, Comedy, Slice of Life Reasons I make it: Cause its fun and I enjoy sharing the existence of my characters and their life outside my brain

Emma (Friends or Lovers?)

Dreamwalker Felix by KT and TK https://tapas.io/series/Dreamwalker-Felix and https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/dreamwalker-felix/list?title_no=182487 Genre: Fantasy/Supernatural Trigger Warnings: There's some body horror in there Reasons: The art is just beautiful, and it has tons of funny moments Friends or Lovers? by yours truly https://tapas.io/series/friendsorlovers and https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/friends-or-lovers/list?title_no=49520 Genre: Romance/school slice of life Trigger Warnings: Mentions and depictions of bullying Reasons: It's my comic, so I'll just quote a reader: "Your comic is more accurate to real teens in love in high school than most. It's really good stuff"

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Earth in a Pocket http://earthinapocket.spiderforest.com/ Genre: Retro Sci-fi, Iyashikei Trigger Warnings: none Reasons: This comic posted its final page very recently! It's a relatively short read; very gentle and hopeful without being cavity-causingly sweet. The creator has put together such a heartwarming story that I've been adoring for a while. One of my faves, now complete!

renieplayerone

O Human Star https://ohumanstar.com/ Genre: Scifi, Robots, Drama TW: Dysphoria, Depression Reasons: The characters are so well written and emotional, plus I love the simplistic color palette. They get across the journey of self-discovery in such an interesting way.(edited)

carcarchu

Arcane Flames https://tapas.io/series/Arcane-Flames Genre: Fantasy Trigger Warnings: death? Reasons: I've been following kutty sark for many years now and I've really been looking forward to this comic which I'm pleased to say even exceeded my expectations. Fantastic art and the tone of the story is just lovely, i adore al'vis

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

https://sfeertheory.com/ The art is incredible. Every character, even the background ones, is full of personality. I love a good underdog story, and Luca's speech in chapter three made me scream into my hands and tear up. I can't recommend it highly enough

Tantz Aerine (Without Moonlight)

http://secondcrimeanwar.thecomicseries.com/

The Second Crimean War is a powerful and fun story in an alternate 1990s decade in Ukraine. The art is black and white and improves in leaps and bounces as you move on in the story! The story itself draws you in from page one. There's suspense, there's (black) humor, there's atmosphere and adventure. Highly recommended if you like war/action/suspense.

varethane

Have you ever read Nasty Red Dogs? https://nastyreddogs.com/

oh golly, haha

yeah, it's a fun and twisted and surreal little tale, the early parts especially are like walking through a really bizarre dream that if you describe it, it ought to be called a nightmare, but at the moment you're in it, it doesn't FEEL like one lol

the creator also does a comic called Feast For A King, which I think is more well-known but I haven't read yet (will at some point tho): https://feastforaking.com/comic/

kelly-zine

Title: Zyra Slash Genre: Sci-Fi, Comedy, Slice-Of-Life TW: None (for right now at least, it just started!) Reasons: I love Alex and their characters so much! ZS is a project I’ve been following and chatting with them about for a long time and it’s amazing to see it come to fruition. I think you’ll like it too. (Note that it’s on hiatus at the moment!) https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/zyra-slash/list?title_no=373763

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Title: Ark https://www.arkcomic.com/ Genre: Fantasy, Drama, Anthro TW: violence (nothing heavy yet, but my Spider Senses are tingling) Reasons: A 1920s-inspired, extremely believable fantasy setting. Hints of racial tension and a possible war brewing on the horizon. It's pretty early in the story, so hop in and claim the front row seats for this gorgeously illustrated comic! (edited)

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

Tamberlane https://www.tamberlanecomic.com/ Genre: slice of life, heartwarming, Anthro It has a cast of colourful characters. Charming story of a clumsy bat named Belfry who adopts a little human. Various animal neighbors to love

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

I found one of the Chinese webcomics I use to follow, is now on Webtoons. They rename the title to: The Emperor's New Body because it's about body swapping and has interesting depth while some silly hijinks https://tapas.io/series/the-emperors-new-body(edited)

trinketfox

May as well rec my first ever favorite webcomic! Warrior U! https://warrior-u-thecomic.tumblr.com/ It's so expressive and funny that I've always wished it would become a show on cartoon network or something. Only the first few pages are still up on this tumblr since the official site is down, but all chapters are on the artist's gumroad!

It's an episodic comedy fantasy that goes from page-long gags to full episodes. Reccomended for it's humor and a really fun art style.

SteffieMusings

Nebula Beings https://tapas.io/series/Nebula-Beings Genre: Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Horror/Thriller Trigger Warnings: Violence, scary imagery (especially in chapter 7), talks/implied past abuse Reasons: It's a fun series and the two main characters learn to overcome challenges during their travels.(edited)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

http://humoncomics.com/elftaken-1

Very short comic about the fae!

shadowhood {SunnyxRain}

For anyone who wants really strong character development/plot/art in general, I’m recommending Heir’s Game https://www.webtoons.com/en/drama/heirs-game/list?title_no=1445 For slapstick humor and characters with strong platonic bonds I give you Waffles and Pancakes https://www.webtoons.com/en/slice-of-life/waffles-and-pancakes/list?title_no=1310 And because why not, and if you like Victorian romance with a cute bickering couple, I give you Miss Abbott and the Doctor https://www.webtoons.com/en/romance/miss-abbott-and-the-doctor/list?title_no=707

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

Encephalon Genre: Sci-Fi, Horror Trigger Warnings: Blood, Gore, Strong Language A rescue crew sent to an abandoned space station comes face-to-face with a bio-computer experiment gone horribly wrong. A sci-fi webcomic with body-horror elements. Very creepy stuff! It's just getting started, but after seeing the rest of the story in thumbnail form (my IRL friend is the making it), it's going to AWESOME places. Please check it out! https://encephalon-comic.com/

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

This is: Mirror Mirror for 'Brain' short story contest entry. The 1st ep caught my eye and I'm invested in it https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/mirror-mirror-b/list?title_no=427186(edited)

carcarchu

https://www.lezhin.com/en/comic/freak Genre: fantasy Trigger Warnings: violence? Reasons: sakon's art is brilliant and incredibly consistent. season 1 is now available to read for free!

sagaholmgaard

Genre: Supernatural, urban fantasy, slice of life Trigger Warnings: Maybe abusive parents? idk i feel like it will be explored in the future Reasons: I love the art style and the latest chapter have some CHAOTIC ENERGY and im living for it!! https://tapas.io/series/bygonesbe

GGY

Just got back from hiatus! If y’all are interested in some slice of life + comedy drama I’d like to share my webcomic Over 8 Miles: https://tapas.io/series/O8M/ep39

carcarchu

Veni Vidi Vici https://vevivi.blog.fc2.com/blog-entry-1.html Genre: slice of life, comedy Reasons: reading this comic feels so comfy and it reminds me of being in roman studies class again. you can really see the love and care that Ruby has put into this comic and her passion for ancient rome is really on full display in this work

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

This is the comic books for Cafe Suada I used to read way back. It's a fun slice of life about a teahouse shop keeper rivals with a coffee shop manager https://tapas.io/series/Cafe-Suada The artist used some traditonal tea staining for the textures. The story inspired me to draw my own slice of life series(edited)

sierrabravo (Hans Vogel is Dead)

The Strange Tale of Oscar Zahn https://www.webtoons.com/en/fantasy/the-strange-tales-of-oscar-zahn/list?title_no=685&page=1 Genre: Paranatural Investigation with just a dash of Cosmic Horror Kinda spooky, some light/fantasy violence From the website: Follow the journey of the world's greatest paranormal investigator - Oscar Zahn. Friend to lost souls, enemy of evil, he may lack a body but that doesn't mean he's missing a heart! The art is INCREDIBLE, the tone is really fun with some neat Hellboy vibes, it's complete and it's a good binge read. I really enjoyed it!

carcarchu

Short story about a cat, make sure you've got tissues ready https://akimiya.tumblr.com/post/129049384624

boogeymadam

just caught up with wychwood and it's such a huge treat!! there's some amazingly fun worldbuilding, a lot of intrigue about how the protagonists came to have the powers they do, and the motives behind the things that made the world the way it is * _ * it's also got soooo many pretty derelict environments, cool creature design and fun training montages! http://wychwood.sevensmith.net/comic/1

Yung Skrimp (Carefree)

I started reading Cloven Hearth, it’s interesting and has a really cool art style

https://twitter.com/ruinationcomics/status/1254126660007399425?s=21(edited)

carcarchu

Hana and Mr. Arrogant https://www.ciayo.com/en/comic/hana-mr-arrogant Genre: romance Reasons: Easy breezy read, with nice art and a super likeable heroine! Nothing we've never seen before, but delivered with genuine heart that makes it stand out

LabsZach

This one esp, with the greenery shifting into dirt, roots, and mushrooms, and how it compliments the figures on it is just aces. https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/cloven-hearth/touch-of-the-divine/viewer?title_no=396780&episode_no=14

boogeymadam

recently binged malverav's comic Love and War and it is sooo satisfying, about 2 competitors in a medieval tournament involving jousting, archery and more! The banter between Svanhildur and Marinelle had me grinning a lot. Also, it's a wlw rivals-to-lovers romance aka a GREAT kinda love story!! (my favorite kind ) it's on tapas https://tapas.io/series/Love-and-War/info

carcarchu

cronaj's sports comment got me thinking about this and how damn good it is https://tapas.io/episode/968762 Genre: Sports, drama Reasons: it's insanely creative and the art is so intense, i found it extremely memorable and powerful to read(edited)

carcarchu

Came across this stunning webtoon today. It was originally published on taiwanese webtoon and the author has decided to tl into english to share with a wider audience https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/intertidal/list?title_no=371176 Really gorgeous traditionally drawn comic and a lovely poetic writing style

carcarchu

the winner of this year's eisners awards for best webcomic. definitely worth checking out! https://friedricecomic.com/

#ctparchive

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betweengenesisfrogs · 6 years ago

Text

Homestuck is My Favorite Sprite Comic

Yes, you read that right.

Homestuck is my favorite sprite comic.

Those of you who remember the earlier days of the internet are probably looking at this post in disbelief right about now. Others of you might be scratching your heads, not knowing what I’m talking about.

But here’s my pitch: Homestuck is the culmination of an entire genre of internet art, and the tools that make it so powerful are the very tools that made that genre once so reviled.

Homestuck is the greatest and most successful sprite comic of all time.

And honestly, I’ve wanted to talk about that for ages, so let’s do it.

WHAT SPRITE COMICS WERE

Many of my readers are probably too young to remember the era of sprite comics. So: what were sprite comics?

Sprite comics were a genre of webcomics made entirely by taking pixel art from video games – especially character art, called “sprites,” but also backgrounds and other images—and placing them into panels to tell a story. They were near-ubiquitous on the internet in the early 2000s, emerging right as webcomics in general were seeking to establish themselves as an art form.

They were not, shall we say, known for their quality. The low bar to access meant that art skill was not an obstacle to starting one. The folks behind the huge swell of them tended to be young people, kids and early teenagers recreating the plots of their favorite video games with new OCs—not the most advanced writers or artists. They were the early 2000s’ quintessential example of ephemeral, childish art. Unfortunately, they look even worse today—blown-up pixels don’t hold up well when displayed on higher-resolution monitors.

Today, they’re mostly forgotten, remembered only as a weird, strange moment in the youth of the internet. Someone who evoked them today, such as a blogger who compared them to one of the most successful webcomics of all time, would be inviting good-natured teasing at the very least.

It would be unfair to dismiss them entirely, though. In this low-stakes environment, comics where the author could bring more skill—engaging writing, legitimately funny jokes, or especially, a real ability to work with pixel art—really stood out. (Unsurprisingly, these authors tended to skew a bit older.)

The obvious one to mention is Bob and George. Bob and George wasn’t the first sprite comic, but it was the most influential. Conceived initially as Mega Man-themed filler for a hand-drawn comic about superheroes, it quickly became a merging of the two concepts, with the original characters made into Mega Man-style sprites, full of running gags, humorous retellings of the Mega Man games, elaborate storylines about time travel, and robots eating ice cream. It was generally agreed, even among sprite comic haters, that Bob and George was a pretty good comic. Worth mentioning also are 8-Bit Theater, which turned the plot of the first Final Fantasy into a spectacular and hilarious farce, and of course Kid Radd, my second favorite sprite comic. (More on that later.)

But even if you weren’t looking for greatness—there was something just damn fun about them. The passion of sprite comic authors was clear, even if their ideas didn’t always cohere. To this day, I think the sprite comic scene has the same appeal pulp art does—it’s crude and rough, full of garbage to sift through, but every so often, something deeply sincere and bizarre shines through, and the culture of its authors is a fascinating object of study in itself.

Okay, full disclosure: I was one of the people who made a sprite comic. I’ve written about my experiences with that in more depth elsewhere, but yeah, I was on the inside of this scene, rather than a disinterested observer, and from the inside, maybe it’s a lot easier to see the appeal.

Still, let me make this claim: even with all their flaws, sprite comics were doing some incredibly interesting things, and Homestuck is heir to their legacy.

TAKE ME DOWN TO RECOLOR CITY

One of the problems people always had with sprite comics was the sprites themselves. They’re the most repetitive thing in the world. You just keep copying and pasting the same images over and over again, maybe with a few tweaks. That’s not really being an artist, is it? It’s so lazy. Re-drawing things from different angles keeps things dynamic, develops your skill, and makes your work better in general. Right?

I’m mostly in agreement. Certainly I think it’s fair to rag on the Control-Alt-Delete guy, along with other early bad webcomics, for copy-pasting their characters while dropping in new expressions and mass-producing tepid strips. And to be fair, digging through bad sprite comics often felt like an exercise in seeing the same slightly-edited recolors of Mega Man characters over and over again. You got really tired of that same body with its blobby feet and hands.

(It should be noted, though, that there were folks in the sprite comic scene who could pixel art the quills off a porcupine. I salute you, brave pixel art masters of 2006. I hope you all got into your chosen art school.)

All this said, I think the repetitive and simplistic nature of sprite comics was often their biggest strength.

THE POWER OF ABSTRACTION

In his classic work Understanding Comics, Scott McCloud makes an observation about cartooning that has stayed with me to this day.

McCloud notes that simple, abstract drawings, like faces that are only few lines and dots on a page, resonate with us more strongly than more detailed drawings. This is because our minds fill in what’s missing on the page. We ascribe human depth to simple gestures and expressions based on our own emotions and experiences – and this makes us feel closer to these characters as readers. Secretly, simple cartoons can be one of the most powerful forms of storytelling. If you want your readers to fall in love with your characters, draw them simply, and let them fill them in.

Video game sprites work very well in this regard. They have that same simplicity that cartoons do. In fact, I’d be willing to bet a huge part of the success of SNES-era RPGs was simple, almost childlike character sprites drawing people in. I think sprites did the same for sprite comics.

Here’s the weird thing: Bob and George worked. Despite four different characters being variations on the same friggin’ Mega Man sprite in different colors, they immediately began to seem like different people with distinct personalities. For me, George’s befuddled, helpless dismay immediately comes to mind whenever I picture his face, while with Mega Man himself it’s usually a wide-eyed, childlike glee. I would never confuse them. This, despite the fact that the only actual difference between their faces is that George is blonde. It’s pretty clear what happened. The personalities the author established for them through dialogue and storytelling shone through, and my brain did the rest.

Sprites, in short, were a canvas upon which the mind could project any story the author wanted to tell. Even the most minute differences in pixel art came to stand, in the best sprite comics, for wide divergences in personality and ideals, once the reader spent enough time with them to adapt to their style of representation.

Wait a minute, haven’t we seen this somewhere before? Character designs that focus on variations on a theme, with subtle differences that nonetheless render them instantly recognizable?

Oh, right.

Look at what greets us on the very first page of Homestuck. An absurdly simple cartoon boy, abstracted to a ridiculous degree—he doesn’t even have arms!—followed a whole bunch of characters that follow suit. Though many other representations of the characters emerge, these little figures never quite go away, do they? Why is that?

Simple: they’re very easy to manipulate. They’re modular—you can give John arms or not, depending on whether it’s useful. You can put him in a whole variety of poses and save them to a template. You can change out his facial expressions with copy and paste. You can give him a new haircut and call him Jake. It’s all very quick and easy.

Sprite comics proliferated because they were very easy to mass-produce. Andrew Hussie’s original conception of Homestuck was very similar: something he could put out very quickly and easily, where even the most elaborate ideas could rely on existing assets to be sped smoothly along. We all know the result: an incredible production machine, churning out unfathomable amounts of content from 2009-2012. I’d say it was a good call.

But it goes way deeper than that. The modular nature of sprites always suggested a kind of modularity to the sprite comic premise. George and Mega Man were different people, true, but also two variations on a theme. Was there something underlying them that they had in common? Perhaps their similarity says something like: We exist in a world which has a certain set of rules? One of my favorite conceits from Bob and George was that when characters visited the past, they were represented by NES-era Mega Man sprites, while in the present, they were SNES sprites, and in the future, the author used elaborate splicing to render them as 32-bit Mega Man 8 sprites or similar.

Suppose there was a skilled cartoonist thinking about his next big project, who wanted to tell a story centered around this kind of modularity, a narrative that was built out of iterative, swappable pieces by its very design. He might very well create a sprite comic named Homestuck.

Homestuck is a story about a game that creates a hyperflexible mythology for its players, where the villains, challenges, and setting change depending upon what players bring to the experience, yet which all share underlying goals and assumptions. What more perfect opportunity to create a modular story as well? Different groups of kids and trolls have motifs that get swapped around to produce new characters, whether that’s through ectobiology, the Scratch, or the eerie parallels between the kids and trolls’ sessions. And yet each character can be analyzed as an individual.

This is an incredible way to build a huge emotional investment from your readers. Not only does this kind of characterization invite analysis, the abstractions draw readers in to generate their own headcanons and interpretations. A deep commitment to pluralism is at the heart of Hussie’s character design. Then, too, it encourages readers to build their own new designs from these models. Kidswaps, bloodswaps, fantrolls—these have long been the heart of Homestuck’s fandom. And what are bloodswaps if not sprite recolors for a new generation? With the added bonus that now a change in color carries narrative weight, evoking new moods and identities for these characters in ways that early sprite comics could only dream of.

In Hussie’s hands, even the dreaded copy-and-paste takes on heroic depth of meaning. Even when Hussie moves away from sprites to his own loose art style, he continues to remix what we’ve previously see. Indeed, Hussie talks about how he would go out of his way to edit his own art into new images even when it would take more time than drawing something new. Why? Because he wanted to evoke that very feeling of having seen this before—the visual callback to go along with the many conceptual and verbal callbacks that echo throughout Homestuck. This is at the heart of what Doc Scratch (speaking for Hussie) called “circumstantial simultaneity:” we are invited to compare two moments or two characters, to see what they have in common, or how they contrast. Everything in Paradox Space is deeply linked with everything else. And Hussie establishes this in our minds using nothing less than the tool sprite comics were so deeply reviled for: the “lazy” repetition of an image.

(It’s fitting that some of the most jaw-droppingly gorgeous images in Homestuck—dream bubble scenery and the like—are the result of Hussie taking things he’s made before and combining them into fantastic dreamscapes.)

But it all started with the hyperflexible, adaptable character images Hussie created at the very beginning of Homestuck.

And if you need more proof that Homestuck is a sprite comic, I think we need look no further than what Hussie, and the rest of the Homestuck community call these images.

We call them sprites.

THE FIRST GENRE-BENDERS

Was Andrew Hussie influenced by sprite comics in the development of Homestuck? It’s hard to say, but as a webcomic artist in the first decade of the 2000s, he was surely aware of them. It’s likely that he quickly realized that his quick, adaptable images served the same purposes as a sprite in a video game or a sprite comic, and chose to call them that.

One purpose I haven’t mentioned up until now: sprites lend themselves very well to animations. In fact, in their original context of video games, that’s exactly what they’re for: frames of art that can be used to show a character running, jumping, posing, moving across a screen. It’s not surprising, then, that sprite comic makers quickly saw the utility in that.

Homestuck was, in fact, not the first webcomic to make Flash animations part of its story. There were experiments with various gifs and such in other comics, but I think sprite comics were among the most successful at becoming the multi-media creations that would come to be known as hypercomics..

Take a look at this animation from Bob and George. It represents a climactic final confrontation against a long-standing villain, using special effects to make everything dramatic, but ultimately, like many a Homestuck animation, leads to kind of a pyscheout. The drama and the humor of the moment are clear, though. This relies in large part on the music—which is taken directly from the game Chrono Trigger. This makes total sense. Interestingly, it also contains voice acting, which is something Homestuck never tried—probably because it would run contrary to its ideals of pluralism. What I find fascinating is that in sprite comics, animations like these served a very similar purpose to Homestuck’s big flashes: elevating a big moment into something larger-than-life. Another good example is this sequence from Crash and Bass. Seriously, it seems like every sprite comic maker wanted to try their hand at Flash animation.

(By the way, it’s a lot harder than it looks!! I envy Hussie his vectorized sprites. Pixel art is a PAIN to work with in the already buggy program that is Flash.)

The result: because of the sprites themselves, sprite comics were among the first works to play around with the border between comics and other media in the way that would come to be thought of as quintessentially Homestuck.

What it also meant was that another genre emerged in parallel with sprite comics: the sprite animation. Frequently these would retell the story of a particular game, offer a spectacular animated battle sequence, parody the source material, or all three. Great examples include this animation for Mega Man Zero, and this frankly preposterous crossover battle sequence. Chris Niosi’s TOME also found its earliest roots as an animation series of this kind. You also found plenty of sprite-based flash games, in which players could manipulate game characters in a way that was totally outside the context of the original works.

The website the vast majority of these games and animations were hosted on?

Newgrounds, best known to Homestuck fans as the website Hussie crashed in 2011 while trying to upload Cascade.

What’s less talked about is that Hussie was friends, or at least on conversational terms with, the owner of the site, hence the idea to host his huge animation there in the first place, and other flashes, like the first Alterniabound, were initially hosted there as well.

It’s hard to believe that Hussie wasn’t at least a little familiar with the Newgrounds scene. I suspect that he largely conceived of Homestuck as part of the world of “Flash animation—” which in 2009 meant the wide variety of things that were hosted on Newgrounds, including sprite animations.

The freedom and fluidity sprite comics had to change into games and animations and back into comics again was one of their most fascinating traits. Homestuck’s commitment to media-bending needs, at this point, no introduction. But what’s less known is that sprite comics were exploring that territory first—that Homestuck, in short, is the kind of thing they wanted to grow up to be.

PUT ME IN THE GAME

I would be a fool not to mention another big thing Homestuck and sprite comics have in common: a character who is literally the author in cartoon form, running around doing goofy things and messing with the story. This was an incredibly common cliché in sprite comics, no doubt because of Bob and George, who did it early on and never looked back. You might have noticed that the animation I linked above concerns a showdown between Bob and George’s author, David Anez—depicted, delightfully, as another Mega Man recolor—and a mysterious alternate author named Helmut—who is like Mega Man plus Sepiroth I think? It’s all very strange. I could ramble for hours about the relationship between Hussie and the alt-author villains of Homestuck and what it all means, but I’m not sure I can nail anything down with certainty for these two. Maybe Bob and George was never quite that metaphysical.

But yes, bringing the author into the story in some form was already a cliché by the time Homestuck started up. Indeed, I think that’s why Hussie’s character refers to it as “a bad idea” to break the fourth wall—he’s recognizing that people will have seen this before, and are already tired of this sort of shit. And then he goes and does it anyway and makes it somehow brilliant, because he’s Andrew Hussie.

Homestuck breathes life into the cliché by taking it in a metaphysical/metafictional direction. I don’t think that was really the motivation for most sprite comic authors, though. Let’s see if we can dig a little deeper.

I think the cliché kept happening because sprite comic authors were writing about a subject that very closely concerned themselves: video games. I’m only kind of joking. The thing about video games is that even though they’re made for everyone, playing through one yourself feels like an intensely personal experience. You develop an emotional relationship to a world, to its characters, that feels distinctly your own. Now, suddenly, thanks to the magic of sprites, you have an opportunity to tell stories about that world for others to read. Of course you’re going to want to put yourself in the story in some form.

When it wasn’t author characters in sprite comics, it was OCs. You know Dr. Wily? Well here’s my own original villain, Dr. Vindictus. You know Mega Man? Here’s my new character, Super Cool Man. He hangs out with Mega Man and they beat the bad guys together. Stuff like that. Most sprite comics retold the story of a game, or multiple games in a big crossover format, with original elements added in. There was quite a lot of “Link and Sonic and Mega Man are all friends with my OC and they hang out at his house.”

What’s interesting, though, is that because these sprite comics were very aware that they were about video games, this was where they sometimes got very meta. It started with humorous observation—hey, isn’t it funny that Link goes around breaking into people’s houses and smashing their pots? But sometimes, it grew into more serious commentary. Is Mega Man trapped in a never-ending cycle, doomed to fight the same fight against the same mad scientist until the end of time? Is it worth it, being a video game hero?

Enter Homestuck. What I’ve been dancing around this whole time is:

Homestuck is a sprite comic…because Homestuck is a video game.

Or more specifically, Homestuck’s a comic about a video game called SBURB, where the lines between the game and the comic about the game blur as characters wrestle with the narratives around them, both those encoded into the game and those encoded into our expectations.

Homestuck presents the fantasy of many a sprite comic maker: I get to go on heroic quests, I get to change the world and become a god. I get to be part of the video game. And then it asks the same question certain sprite comics were beginning to ask:

Is it worth it, to be that hero?

I want to tell you about my second favorite sprite comic, a comic called Kid Radd.

Kid Radd distinguished itself from other sprite comics of the time by being a completely original production. Its sprites looked like they could be from a variety of NES and SNES-era video games, but they were all done from scratch, and the games they purported to represent were all fictional. Kid Radd used animations with original music, and sometimes interactive, clickable games, to tell its story. It also used all sorts of neat programming tricks to make it load faster on the internet of the early 2000s, which was great—unfortunately, these same techniques made it break as web technology evolved, something Homestuck fans in 2019 can definitely relate to. The good news is, fans have maintained a dedicated and reformatted archive where the comics can still be seen and downloaded.

Kid Radd’s premise is that video game characters themselves are conscious and alive—more specifically, their sprites. Sprites developed consciousness as human beings projected personality and identity onto them, remaining aware of their status as video game constructs while also seeking to be something more. The story follows the titular Kid Radd, at first in the context of his own game, commenting on the choices the player controlling him. He must endure every death, every strange decision along the way to save his girlfriend Sheena. Then the story expands into a larger context as Radd, Sheena, and many other video game characters are released onto the internet as data. They try to find their own identities and build a society for themselves, but struggle with the tendency toward violence that games have programmed into them. The story culminates in an honestly moving moment where Radd confronts the all-powerful creators of their reality—human beings.

It’s a very good comic.

The first sprite comic authors wanted to fuse real life with video games. Later sprite comic authors decided to ask: what would that really mean? Would it be painful? Would you suffer? Would you find a way to make your life meaningful all the same? Despite the limitations of sprite comics, these ideas had incredible potential, and in works like Kid Radd, they flourished.

Homestuck is heir to that legacy.

It takes the questions Kid Radd was asking, and asks them in new ways. It tries to understand, on an even deeper level, how the rules of video games shape our own minds and give us ways to understand ourselves.

At its heart, Homestuck is a sprite comic, and it might just be the greatest of them all.

EPILOGUE

I’ve seen a lot of good discussion recently on how Homestuck preserves a certain era of the internet like a time capsule: its culture, its technology, its assumptions, its memes.

I think sprite comics, too, are part of the culture that created Homestuck. Do I think Hussie spent the early 2000s recoloring Mega Man sprites? No, probably not. But what I do know is that sprite comics were part of his world. The first webcomic cartoonists came of age alongside an odd companion, the weird, overly sincere, dorky little sibling that was sprite comics. Like them or hate them, you couldn’t escape them. They were there.

And maybe a certain cartoonist saw a kind of potential in them, in the same way he summoned Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff from the depths of bad gamer culture.

Or maybe he just knew, as some sprite comic authors did, that the time was right for their kind of story.

On a personal level—Homestuck came along right when I needed it.

Around 2009, the bubble that was sprite comics finally burst. People were getting tired of them, or growing out of them, and blown-up sprites no longer looked so good on modern monitors.

I was more than a little heartbroken. I’d enjoyed Bob and George, read my fill of Mega Man generica, and fallen utterly in love with Kid Radd. I’d been working on my own sprite comic for a long time out of a sense that there was huge potential in them that we were only scratching the surface of. I’d dreamed of maybe someday doing something as amazing as the best of them did. But I was watching that world disappear. I had to admit to myself that my work wasn’t going to continue to find an audience. That I could live with. But it was painful to think that the potential I sensed, the feats of storytelling I wanted to see in the world, would never be realized.

And then, in the fall of 2010, a friend linked me to a comic that broke all the rules, that mixed animation, games, music, images and chatlogs. A comic that crafted its own sprites, just as Kid Radd did, and remixed its images into an ever-expanding web of associations and meanings. A comic that took on the idea of living inside a video game with relish and turned it into a gorgeous meditation on escaping the ideas and systems that control us.

That this comic would exist, let alone that it would succeed. That it would become one of the most popular creations of all time, that it would surpass other webcomics and break out into anime conventions and the real world, that it would become such a cultural juggernaut, to the point where it’s impossible to imagine an internet without Homestuck—

I can’t even put into words how happy that makes me. It’s the reason I’m still writing essays about Homestuck nearly eight years after I found it.

And it’s why Homestuck will always be my favorite sprite comic.

-Ari

[Notes: The image of the kids came from the ever-useful MSPA Wiki—please support and aid in their efforts to provide a good source of info about Homestuck! They need more support these days than ever.

For more on Homestuck’s place as a continuation of the zeitgeist of early 2000s experimental webcomics, this article by Sam Keeper at Storming the Ivory Tower is excellent and insightful.

Thanks for reading, y’all.]

#homestuck analysis #homestuck #homestuck's influences #hypercomics #understanding homestuck #sprite comics #internet culture

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