#also written worse lmao

[t4tails]

in sharp contrast to the previous penguin issues interesting stylization, this poison ivy one was clearly drawn with only one hand

[mr-cia-adler]

Dadler barbecue headcannons:

(With a sprinkle of Woods and Mason being uncles) (Take 'kids' as twins if you'd like, gender neutral)

--------

-His beloved would be the one to organise the get-together, or a neighbour if they weren't in the picture.

-Yes, Adler loves his own children, but a whole swarm of them relying on him? He'd prefer just a small gathering. His family, probably Woods and Mason too.

-It's hosted on a Friday afternoon, after Adler has picked up his kid from soccer club. If he's got twins, one might be on the soccer team, one might be more interested in creative arts, Adler wouldn't care which.

-Would automatically be put on barbecue duty, not because of the typical 'dad on the barbecue' role, but because Adler doesn't trust anyone else doing it and everyone's learnt at this point that he won't take 'no' for an answer.

-An absolute TOOL. A master of the craft. You'd think he's being working the barbecue his whole life for how seamless he can flip burgers and use a knife.

-He's not allowed to smoke near the barbecue. Since his beloved/kids saw ash fall onto the food, he's been banned from smoking during it.

-Even if he did try, one stern look from his beloved or a frown from his kid would stop him.

-(Expect him to be missing for 5 minutes during the get-together though. If you look for him, he'd probably be inside smoking by an open window or behind a fence).

-His barbecue, his rules: no one is to touch the food until he's finished, all food requires a safety check, and if you've complaints? Keep them to yourself.

-(He'd let his kids sneak a bite or two until they get too greedy and he lightly swats their hand with a spatula. Woods tried this once and got a strong scowl and threat from Adler).

-Food is to be safety checked. Adler has instinctual trust issues due to his line of work, so if you're planning on bringing food to the barbecue, expect Adler to check it over for contraband or harmful substances. The safety of his family and friends is his priority.

-His favorites eat first. Mason and Woods have to watch at the back of the line as Adler's children pounce onto the buffet.

-Speaking of buffet, expect a spread from hot dogs to carrot sticks, Adler wants to make sure his kids eat healthy. (Lord help if he finds out Woods takes his kids to burger town occasionally).

-Adler keeps an eagle eye on the get-together and along the treeline, out of paranoia and for safety. He's just "taking care of them", Adler would tell his beloved/kids if they asked, despite having a concealed firearm on him.

-Would eat with his family. If his kid asked for some of his food, he'd probably split it with them. Extra points if the kid uses manners and makes Adler smile.

-His apron is stained with smoke, sauce and grease, but he refuses to wash it because of the paint doodles his kids put onto it. He feels proud every time he wears it.

-If they're young enough, expect to see his kid on his hip or hanging from his neck when he's working the barbecue, most likely pestering for food. If twins, expect them both there.

-(Mason once offered Adler's kid a hard candy from his pocket. Mason should've checked the expiration date before he saw the pure grimace on the child's face).

-(He then got berated by Adler and spent the next hour of the get-together sulking by the paddling pool with a beer).

-Adler is the one who puts his kids to bed later that night and packs away the spare food into the fridge. He most likely falls asleep on the couch after he can finally relax.

[boopshoops]

The Watcher of the Great Pine Tree

TW!!! this is fucked up- warnings for child death/injury, descriptions of decomposition with bugs- and just bugs in general. srsly gross I warned you. Also unreliable narrator. I do my best to handle these topics with respect!

Let's see... what year was it? Ah, yes.

I died in the late 1830s. A few years before, locomotive trains finally made their way to the Land of Dawning. I was a considered a lucky charm prior to that, all of my parent's other children had died. Now now, settle- that wasn't uncommon back then. Even up till the 1870s, half of the amount of children birthed died prior to the age of five. At least those from families without magic.

Lucky me, I made it to six.

Quite the oddity compared to today, no? Nonetheless, as you can see, I have long since made up for it.

I loved to watch the trains. They astonished my little mind. I wasn't a very smart one by any means, but I wanted to know everything about them. How the wheels turned, and the whistle blew... how something that big was able to move at all. In a way, I wanted to BE the train, hah! Me and the other children would always play by the tracks whenever we were free from our studies. Every time the train went past, I was there.

Then, I fell.

What, were you expecting something more climactic?

No. I got a concussion while playing by the railroad tracks like the wreckless scamp I was. It took me awhile to learn the terms to understand- as well as most medicinal studies at the time, but fluid pressed on my brain more as the days went by, and I had a stroke.

That was when I first became a spirit, but I was not dead yet. My brain was practically nonfunctional. I could see it all like it was from the eyes of another, tethered closely to my body.

My father put me out of my misery with a mallet.

I watched him bury my body by the railroad, and I remained tethered there as all the life in the surrounding woods hummed a tune.

How did I feel? Oh, why of course I was absolutely beside myself. I feel anyone would be, but I was lucky- I had a comfort:

The crickets.

Their lovely song thrummed through my spirit along with the whistle of the train. They were there the entire time, soothing me. Family and friends visited, of course, but the bugs... the bugs were the only ones who truly spoke to me.

So when they began to consume my body, I felt betrayed. However- I learned that this was yet another blessing in disguise.

They all carried parts of my flesh. I was valuable to them. I was such a divine blessing for them. To feed the hoard. The masses. To continue to hear them sing. To untether me from my grave. I was free. I had done something. For the first time in my life, I was something greater than myself. There was nothing left of me there, but I was more than I ever had been. Yet, foolishly, I still grieved.

I followed those bugs out into the woods, to the tree. The old pine tree- I believe it was later called the Great Pine in the years to come. With magic buried deep in its roots. I practically raised myself out there in an abandoned old cottage, a place where I could keep an eye on my nests of friends where my body sustained them.

Despite what I had done for them, as years went by, I knew I wanted to live.

I wanted to live more than anyone else who had ever visited that pine tree.

More than anyone who was already alive.

So I watched. And I learned about that tree. For decades.

At the time, I was quite a sentimental fool- I got very wrapped up in it all. In how I felt, so much so that I forgot completely the feelings of others. Not that I ever had much experience with it in the first place, having passed on so young. I truly only ever thought of myself or my small critter friends. I used to excuse what I did with my death. Now I don't bother. In truth, I don't regret what I did either way.

Because I get to live.

I get to live a life no one else can.

A life of feeling. A life of being more than simply myself. I get to repay the generations and generations of creatures that fed from me. Now I can care for them forever.

So, no, I don't regret taking that girl's wooden frame.

Because now, that exact frame is home to so much more.

Wouldn't she be grateful? To have your very being become an ecosystem?

To be reunited with the very being that once bit into you? To become a part of their lives?

Maybe not. Either way, I am happy. I did feel guilty, mind you, I wasn't completely out of my wits yet, haha! It did eventually happen, though. Wits have been loss, I'm aware by how you are staring at me. Feel free to hate me, I've long since moved on to bigger things.

Suppose around two hundred years will do that to you. I almost miss the guilt.

I almost miss the feeling.

*(sorta) prequel to "The Dolls of the Great Pine Tree" from the pov of that mysterious pal.

tags!

@lowcallyfruity @skriblee-ksk @justm3di0cr3 @cecilebutcher @kitwasnothere

@beneathsakurashade @qsoap @prince-kallisto @kathxrat-01 @twsted-canvas

@scint1llat3 @the-trinket-witch @thehollowwriter @distant-velleity @techno-danger

@sillyslipperybananapeel @gimmeurmoneyagh @tixdixl @twstinginthewind

[fcb-mv33]

Always makes me giggle when certain fans are like “why is max not calling out the abuse x driver is getting” because lmao said driver literally drip feeds shit for the English media to abuse Max with AND said drivers own father liked a tweet wishing silverstone 21 to happen to Max again SO???

Also never seen any driver called out the abuse Max consistently faces from media, teams, other drivers, fans etc

[deoidesign]

Hello! I just discovered your blog and I immediately became captivated by your webcomic, but I'm unsure where to read all of it. I know it's on Webtoons, but I can see it hasn't been updated for a while, and you still post about it.

Are your physical novels just prints of the webcomic? Are they a continuation? Is the story complete? Thanks in advance!

Hi there!

Glad you found me and are enjoying my comic!

It's only on webtoons, and the story is not complete yet! We're 2/3 of the way through right now. It's currently on hiatus, and it's scheduled to come back in about 2 months!

I'll explain why it's been so long if you're curious, but also for my followers who might also be wondering about it under the cut. Sorry, it's pretty much just me complaining haha

I took a month off I took 2 months to get the books printed I took a month to prepare my next comic and I took 2 months to write the rest of the series (I knew the character arcs I wanted, but not the time periods or mysteries!!!) I've been working on actual episodes since then

I had to take some time off because of some pretty extreme burnout due to the sheer amount of work it was to draw over 800 pages and write 6 complete stories in a year and a half... I was getting sick almost weekly due to the overwork, it was really really bad honestly. I was having to work 60+ hours every week just to keep up...

The nature of the comic itself is also difficult... Each of the arcs is a complete, self contained story which can be read (ideally) without context, and my arcs need to be about 10-13 episodes each... And since I have an exact number of episodes to work with, it's even harder.

It takes a ton of planning and a ton of refinement, and working week to week with no breaks I was forced to put out second or even first drafts, so I just wasn't happy with the work I was doing... And to do that for the rest of the series? I wouldn't be proud of the work I did.

Plus... To be entirely honest, webtoon has treated me quite badly IN MY OPINION... They deprioritized me before I launched (I had to beg for more promotion, I'm not exaggerating), they outright denied me the opportunity to even ask for a raise, I don't make any money on fast pass and they pay me less than my partner makes working at trader joes. My first editor left me completely hanging, my second editor (who I loved) was fired... And they told me I wouldn't get a third season before my first season even finished. So it was just repeatedly completely demoralizing.

I'm sorry it has taken so long, it'll have been 10 months by the time I come back. But I realized... I won't get promotion either way. I won't get more episodes either way. I won't get more money either way. So to finish everything, to make it feel good, to make it something I'm proud of, I chose to take longer to make it better.

I am fully aware I will lose a significant amount of my readership for this and it might genuinely affect my career moving forward. But it's what I had to do! So I'm sticking to my guns on it, and I'm confident long term it'll be worth it. It never could have been this good if I didn't take this much time.

[memento-morri-writes]

random snippet - birthday duels

aka Terrible Time Tuesday (yes, I posted parts of this yesterday. But the new parts, which is most of it, are fun! I promise!!)

Rook was not having a good time on Sunday, and this was before he died from a plethora of stab wounds. Would you believe me if I said this was one of the "best" times he's dealt with bad feelings? pov: Rook wordcount: 1.1k character(s): Rook (D&D), Tyra (NPC), Aki (Other PC) canon status: canon session rewrite trigger warnings: death mention, grief, guilt, self-hatred, very unhealthy coping mechanisms summary: on the birthday of his recently deceased friend, Rook struggles to deal with his emotions and winds up taking them out on his first mate, Tyra.

As the day wore on, the black cloud of grief that had settled over the ship grew thicker and more oppressive. Rook paced the deck, nearly vibrating with tension. It was almost suffocating, pressing down on him with the weight of a thousand regrets. 

Thoughts clawed at the back of his mind, bringing unwelcome reminders of the part he had played in Warren’s death. If things had gone differently, if he had been a little faster, a little smarter, would his friend still be here?

He shook his head rapidly, trying to shake off the guilt that clung to him with barbed claws. The others didn’t blame him. They’d made that point very clear. And yet, he still couldn’t help but blame himself. 

Wrenching his thoughts away from the dark pit they were circling, he marched up the stairs leading to the quarterdeck. Tyra stood at the helm, talking to Tempest. When she saw Rook, she trailed off. 

She opened her mouth in greeting, but before she could say a word, Rook spoke. “I know you’re more than capable of handling the crew, but how do I know you can hold your own in a fight?”

Tyra’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I can handle myself. I’m best with my pistol,” she tapped the beautifully carved handle emerging from the holster at her hip, “but I’m not too bad with a rapier.”

Rook made a contemplative sound. There was a long pause as he looked her up and down. “Show me.”

Drawing his rapier, he turned on his heel and descended to the deck, stepping onto the cargo hatch. The crew moved out of the way, clearing a space around him. Looking back up at Tyra, he beckoned her with his sword. 

Tyra exchanged an unreadable glance with Tempest, who stepped forwards to take the wheel as she slowly made her way down to the main deck. She positioned herself across from Rook. Hesitantly, she drew her sword, a curved cutlass that was shorter and thicker than his rapier, with a wide, flat blade.

Around them, the crew had started murmuring, hurriedly placing bets. Rook let their voices fade away, trying his best to clear his racing mind. He and Tyra stared at each other, time stretching out between them.

Then, in the blink of an eye, Rook lunged, sending his blade towards Tyra’s chest. She stepped back, parrying his strike with the flat of her blade. She tried to keep the momentum going, but he disengaged, dancing out of her reach. Now it was her turn to bridge the gap, lunging towards him. He knocked her blade aside with ease. 

Their blades clashed again and again as he effortlessly parried her every blow. She redoubled her efforts, deflecting his next strike. Drawing her arm back, she prepared to attack, leaving her torso unguarded. Rook struck. In a flash, he had his blade hovering over her chest. She froze.

In the background the crew exchanged money as the two stood there, gazes locked. Rook stepped back, raising his sword into a ready position. His heart pounded in his ears as he said, “Again.”

Tyra’s eyes widened, but she raised her sword. This time, she struck first, trying to gain the upper hand early. But it wasn’t long before he had her on the defensive, trying her best to hold him back.

She blocked him again, and this time, instead of pulling back for another strike, he stepped forwards, pushing his sword down her blade. With a flick of his wrist, he knocked the cutlass from her hand.

She stepped back, breathing heavily. 

Rook crossed to where her sword lay, and with one quick motion from his foot, sent it flying into his hand. He held it out to her, hilt first. Reluctantly, she took it. 

“Again.”

This time, he didn’t even give her a second to gather her bearings before he struck, targeting her with several blows in quick succession. Immediately she fell onto her back foot, desperately trying to match his furious pace.

He kept pushing her back, off of the cargo hatch that had been their arena until her foot caught and she stumbled. He pressed on and she fell, back hitting the wood of the deck with an audible thud as her sword clattered from her hand. Rook stood over her, blade hovering inches above her throat. He stared down at her, heart pounding. 

A gentle tap on his shoulder caused him to whirl around, striking at the source of the gesture. The tip of his blade pierced a translucent blue hand, causing it to dissolve into the air. Behind it, Aki stared at him, eyes wide.

“Rook, stop this.” He frowned. “It isn’t healthy.”

“I don’t care.”

Aki’s brow furrowed. “It isn’t helping you.” When Rook said nothing, he added, “Look at her, she’s exhausted.” He gestured towards Tyra.

Rook turned to look at his first mate, who was slowly getting to her feet. She was disheveled, her clothes rumpled and her locs in disarray. Her chest rose and fell as she panted for breath. Aki was right, she was tired. 

“Let her go,” Aki said gently.

Whatever he had been trying to do by challenging her, it wasn’t working. He was breathing more heavily than normal, but it was more due to the tightness in his chest than a difficult fight. His muscles trembled, not from effort or exhaustion, but from tension.

Rook squared his shoulders. “Fine.” He sheathed his sword and turned away. He could feel the crew’s eyes on him as he headed towards the ratlines leading up to the crow’s nest. Ignoring them, he grabbed the rope and began to climb.

Though it had been years since he’d climbed the rigging, it came back to him easily, his body’s memory of six years of sailing guiding him up to the small basket-like platform near the top of the mast. A member of the crew sat inside. As Rook’s head came into view, she started, eyes wide.

“Get out.”

She nodded and hurriedly clambered over the edge, scurrying down the rigging towards the deck.

Rook sank onto the floor of the crow’s nest, tipping his head back until it touched the low wooden wall surrounding the platform. Closing his eyes, he breathed in, then out, forcing himself to slow down.

He wasn’t sure if it was the gentle rocking of the ship, or the wind on his face, or the sun on his skin, or simply the distance from the deck and all the gloom that hung over it, but slowly the tension faded from his body. 

[mistpodfics]

Cupid’s Bow Flower written by SmokedAppleCores | @smokedapplecores

A The Hotel Podfic read by mistbornhero for @polypodweek

Greeting dear listeners. Love is once more in the air; whether we like it or not! This is our annual public service announcement, make sure to kill any Cupid’s Bow you see on your property. This plant is easy to spot, thanks to its lovely vibrant green heart-shaped leaves, trumpet-like flower, and potent aphrodisiac pollen

Podfic Length: 52:13 minutes

[pix-writes]

The thing is Justified... I know a lot of peeps like it but its not really my jam, but holy hell does Walton steal every scene he's in! Timothy Olyphant is great too, but even if I didn't know how amazing Walton is already as an actor, he really does capture your attention from the off. So that's why I've started watching it anyways 😅

Its also so funny to me Boyd Crowder's supposed to be this big bad antagonist from the off, but so far (as I've watched) what he's done is appear very receptive to Raylan's presence and requests and bascially winds him up a lot! Every time Boyd's showed up in recent eps i've watched he's been like "Raylan, let me bring up your trauma for a second. Do you want to talk about your daddy issues?"

Whilst Raylan shuts him down quickly and Boyd is just like "hmm, do you think your repressing of your emotions is boiling up into a rage and that's why ur so trigger happy, babe? Maybe u should do something about that..." - it's great haha ^^

[lord-squiggletits]

IDW1 must take place on an alternate Earth where no one has ever heard of ACAB and everyone wears "thin blue line" merchandise because there's literally no other way that a single Autobot killing a USAmerican cop in self defense would be such worldwide news that even Mexican journalists would go "OMG???? You like, killed a cop?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?" and it wasn't even framed as like, "you killed a human," the phrasing every time any character talked about it was very specifically "he killed a cop".

The cop was also threatening to shoot a group of surrendering/not-attacking/injured Autobots btw which is just the icing on the cake honestly lmao

[paula-in-dreamland]

My ff account got this PM today 💀💀💀💀

[zooblesbutchpuppygirl]

I have so many fic ideas but not enough confidence in my writing ability to do any of them </3

[saltandskeletrons]

girl help I’m sitting in a park by myself and having a good time and I thought I should read the sky and guilt are the only feeling I have left again

[sunuism]

everyone please pray or manifest for me that i get one of the easy texts for my exam pleaseeeee

[unabashedly-so]

did this pwp just crescendo into seven thousand words? yes.

does it now include Elliott breathlessly reciting 4 stanzas of original poetry mid-fucking? yes.

was this really necessary? also yes.

[abyssmalice]

(me only just realising that i cant finish making freyja icons from her primary media source bc m.angadex is heckin blocked here)

[adore-gregor]

my perception of grades totally changed since i started uni