#but he is really not an artist but he made an effort and drew her and her little braid and everything

[crowned-clown-rising]

Sorry but this is so cute 🥺

[stansangel]

Stan Imagine (to tie you over)

Pairings: Stan Pines x Reader Warnings: none! pure fluff! Word Count: 335

Stanley decides to take you on a spontaneous road trip in his old, beat-up El Diablo. He doesn’t tell you where you’re going, just grins that mischievous grin of his and says, “Trust me, you’ll love it.”

After driving for a few hours, you pull up to a tiny, hidden diner off the beaten path. It’s one of those old-school places with neon signs and checkered floors. It's kitschy but you love it immediately. He tells you it’s where he used to go when he needed to clear his head.

Stan orders your favorite meal without even asking—he’s memorized it—and as you’re eating, he suddenly pulls out a small, handmade scrapbook from under the table.

“I ain’t good with words,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, “but I figured this might do the trick.”

Inside the scrapbook are mementos from all the little adventures and moments you’ve shared together—ticket stubs, silly photos, notes he’s scribbled down. It’s clear he’s put a lot of effort into it, even if some of the pages are a bit crooked or hastily glued.

Stan watches your reaction nervously, but you can see the pride in his eyes as you flip through the pages. “I wanted you to know that you matter to me,” he says, his voice gruff but sincere. “More than anything...Mabel helped me put it together” he coughs a bit and adjusts his collar. It's clear that Mabel helped him put it together with puppy stickers and glitter glue put on many of the pages along with small drawings of you and Stan together that she clearly drew. (She thought it needed her artistic flare to really 'woo' you)

You smile at him, and for a moment, you see his tough exterior slip away, revealing the loving man you knew was there underneath. It’s in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the diner and the memories you’ve made, that you realize just how deeply he cares for you. (He's stupid in love with you) A/N: I'll start on a longer fic type writing when the poll finishes but in the mean time feel free to send asks if you want something specific!

[nei-ning]

Gonna rant a bit. I saw one set of beautiful anthro arts on another website. Sadly they were done in AI. I did left a comment, complimenting how beautiful these arts were but how sad it made me that they were AI arts.

The artist themselves was kind and polite, telling they use AI because they want to learn and be able to make game arts one day (but they too, apparently, with AI so...)

But then there was another user, AI "artist" too who replied to me that there's absolutely NO ARTIST who can draw anthros with detailed fur, goat like arm, lights, colors etc without editing or photoshopping. On the whole planet, absolutely none! This person clearly don't believe in people's skills when it comes on arts. Heck, I followed one artist on DA who drew ALL her arts traditionally and she drew, and still does, SUPER DETAILED FURRY ANTHROS! No photoshop, editing, nothing digital. Just her hands, paper and a set of color pencils.

Also, if people's art skills wouldn't had been amazing back in the days through mankind, we wouldn't have cave paintings, old amazing paintings or sculptures, ALL DONE BY HANDS IN TRADITIONAL WAY. NO AI, NO PHOTOSHOP OR EDITING.

Humans can learn amazing skills if they only want to. AI artists, maybe not all, just wants to take the easiest way / be lazy (and get lots of likes - like that other person who straight forward said it. That he uses AI to create furry arts to get hundreds of likes).

They also mocked my style / arts, saying they are not good enough to be used in AI arts - yet.

Like what the actual fuck?! I am pissed! I don't even want my arts to be used in AI arts by some lazy idiot (or at all). At least I draw EVERYTHING in my arts, from first sketch line to the last shade / light. Surely my skills are not as good as they could be. After all I'm self-taught, not gone in art school like some have. Not to mention I draw for fun, I draw to bring joy to my watchers, I draw therapy arts to myself, I like to keep my style easy and simple. My arts are a hobby, not professional thing or to fish a lot of likes. If my arts can make someone's day a bit better, then I've done my job! I never haven't taken my arts or skills too seriously, trying to improve them to the top.

Is there times when I wish I would put more effort to my arts, learn and study more, becoming better? Absolutely! But do I bother? Not really. Like I said, this is a hobby. I know I would burnout myself if I would start to force and pressure myself to do better, to learn more, to improve my skills. I mean I struggle to draw even now!

I do have some saved tutorials on Pinterest what I would like to try, yes, but still not in a way like if I would have a fire under my ass.

[anzulvr]

Hii!! Can you do karma with a s/o that's rly quiet but ends up being good with kids??

Karma x Reader whose Good with kids // fluff GN! Reader

This all begins when E class gets themselves into deep trouble. Attempting to train on rooftops while studying for midterms, what they thought was a genius idea doesn't go as planned. Okajima and Kimura jump down and fall on top of an elderly man riding his bike. The old man is hospitalized for a broken foot. He ends up being the caretaker of multiple kids at a daycare he runs, Karasuma goes to talk to the man on behalf of his students-apologizing with flowers and all.

Korosensei orders the entire class to volunteer at the daycare and take the elderly man's place while he rests his leg to teach everyone about helping those who are weaker and those they’ve wronged.

Okay yeah, Korosensei was pissed- Karasuma just spent 20 minutes bargaining and apologizing to the rightfully angered old man and the class was filled with regret, shame and dread for the hard work that was coming. You on the other hand were secretly hyped! You loved taking care of kids, their cute little faces never failed to give you baby fever.

Even though you and Karma werent personally involved in the training scheme you still had to participate as it was a class effort.

The days of volunteering roll around and each day progress is made.

Everyone has a job to do, Some of your classmates are helping the kids study others are in charge of nap time and many are cleaning the space and fixing the building up.

You look over to a group of kids entranced with a theater show Karma, Terasaka and Okuda are putting on for them.

You catch yourself staring at Karma for too long, and bring your focus back towards your job;

You’re in charge of looking after the kids when they’re doing activities, (everything is in rotations for smaller groups)

Your current group is painting and drawing to their hearts content.

You notice one of the kids, Jiro, seems really upset, His eyes are getting watery. You crouch down to his level and ask him what’s wrong.

“My drawing— looks bad, I can’t draw good!” He speaks through the hiccups that slice his sentences up, now the tears are flowing down his cheeks completely.

“Don’t say that… You’re so talented Jiro, I want one of your drawings for myself!”

You ruffle his hair and he starts laughing through his tears, “You’re not lying?”

“Of course not, you’re drawings are my favorite thing ever!”

“Really?! I can draw one for you to take home!”

“The great artist Jiro will make me a drawing? Thank you Jiro you’re the best!”

Jiro rushes back to his seat with a smile on his face ready to start a new drawing as a present for you.

Michi raises her hand, "[Name] look!! I drew you!"

"Awe! I love it thank you Michi, you’re so sweet!"

She nods as she points to the second stick figure on her paper, "Look! I drew Karma because he's your best friend right?"

"Yeah he is-" You're cut off, startled by someone’s voice you turn to look and there he is.

"I'm just your best friend?" He feigns disappointment, you laugh and shove his shoulder gently.

You point at her drawing and back at him as a show of comparison "That looks just like him- you're so attentive to detail Michi!"

"I don't know what that means but thanks!" She skips back to her seat overjoyed with the praise.

Karma turns back to face you,

"Who knew you were this good with kids, it hasn't even been a full week and you're already their favorite- after me, they love me more."

You smile "You wish! Honestly I'm not surprised you're good with them, you have a fun personality, but anyway how'd the play go?"

"It went great, they're Kayanos problem now. I’ve been wanting to come over to you- just couldn’t.”

“I know, I can’t believe we’re on opposite sides of the room!”

“Can’t believe you’re still alive, clingy.”

“Shut up I caught you glancing at me every few minutes. You should focus more on your performance.”

“Hey my point still stands, if you caught me it means you were looking too!”

“I wanted to see how the story played out.”

“Righttt, rate my acting on a scale from 1 to Karma.”

“I’d give you a 9, just cause the outfit was cute.”

“Not bad, where’d the last point go?”

“You’re acting sucked-” you pressed your lip in an attempt to hide the smile threatening to come out.

He scoffed putting his arm around you, “You should do it with me! Tomorrow were doing sleeping beauty, all you have to do is sleep while I smack Terasaka with a plastic sword.”

“Sounds like fun, but I wanna see Terasaka getting hit— can’t do that with my eyes closed.”

“If you do it I’ll ask someone to film it so you can watch later, and more importantly I get to wake you up with a forehead kiss.”

“Alright then, the video convinced me.”

“You sure it wasn’t the kiss?”

“Maybe a little.”

A child’s shout brings your attention back onto your job “[NAMEE]! Michi spilled paint on me!”

Michi stands up “IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!!”

Restful moments with Karma couldn’t last forever but even the noisy ones you appreciated wholeheartedly, now you’d clean up the colorful mess together.

note: sorry for any errors in the writing pls correct me if you catch any <3! sorry this is late still have many rq to go through!

[reasonsmandy]

The Grammys

Eddie Roundtree x Fem! Reader

✧.* requested by two anon —¹ I’d really really appreciate if you wrote something for Eddie roundtree that was like him and reader is a pop singer who’s like just as big as six and they’re both like at their height and they go to like the grammys together and it’s a huge press thing bc there’s been speculation and rumours abt them but they’ve been secretly together until now and the media have a field day and they both win awards and just really fluffy and maybe smutty too but I’d appreciate anything the lack of Eddie on this app is appalling -thankyoouuu.

² Prompt 39, 31 and 25 - I don’t know if it’s too many or not but I swear the tension that all these prompts make would be amazing! Obviously a happy/fluffy ending! I absolutely love your writing!

✧.* summary — You could easily say this was the night of your life, and he certainly made it that much more special.

✧.* warnings — none

✧.* word count — 3.4k

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

As you stood before the grand mirror, the luxurious red dress you wore seemed to embrace every curve of your body, transforming you into a living masterpiece. The intricate beading and elegant draping made you feel like a modern-day Renaissance painting, radiating a mesmerizing allure. Each jewel adorning your skin caught the light, accentuating your magnificence and leaving no doubt that you were the embodiment of grace and beauty. The reflection staring back at you affirmed what you had known all along: tonight, you would command the attention of all who beheld you.

As a team of talented stylists and makeup artists worked their magic, you couldn't help but smile gratefully, realizing that this moment was the culmination of countless hours of dedication and perseverance. The path to this extraordinary night had been paved with tireless efforts, unwavering determination, and an unwavering belief in your own talent.

You remembered the days and nights spent perfecting each lyric, pouring your heart into every melody, and collaborating with Teddy Price, your trusted producer and adviser. Teddy had seen your potential long before anyone else, supporting you with unyielding faith and pushing you to reach new heights. Together, you had embarked on a journey fueled by a shared vision, navigating the twists and turns of the music industry to arrive at this pivotal moment.

As the hour approached, you found yourself seated in the plush comfort of the awaiting vehicle, your heart pounding with a potent mix of excitement and nervous energy. The anticipation was almost tangible, as if the very air was charged with the electric energy of the impending event. The soft skid of the car pulling away signaled the beginning of a remarkable night, one that would etch itself into the annals of your career forever.

Through the window, the city lights blurred into a kaleidoscope of color as you made your way towards the prestigious venue. The vibrant streets mirrored the palpable buzz of anticipation that resonated deep within you. The Grammy Awards, the pinnacle of musical recognition, awaited your arrival. Every artist's dream was about to unfold before your eyes, and you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming mix of pride, excitement, and humility.

The vehicle came to a halt, and you took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as the moment drew near. With each beat of your heart, you embraced the realization that you had earned your place among the most talented musicians in the world. You were no longer the aspiring artist with dreams in her eyes; you were now the embodiment of those dreams, ready to captivate the hearts and souls of all who would witness your performance.

As the car door opened, a cascade of blinding camera flashes and the deafening roar of the crowd welcomed you to the threshold of this extraordinary night. You stepped out, a vision of elegance and confidence, basking in the adoration and admiration of your peers. The weight of the world may have rested upon your shoulders, but you carried it with grace, knowing that every step you took brought you closer to a destiny you had worked tirelessly to achieve.

You navigated the sea of well-wishers, exchanging warm smiles and embraces with fellow artists, feeling a sense of camaraderie and connection that only those who had walked a similar path could understand. The music that filled the air enveloped you like a comforting embrace, reminding you of the power and magic that awaited within the venue's hallowed walls.

This was your night, a night where dreams turned into reality, where your voice would resonate through the halls and touch the hearts of all who listened. You were watched by so many eyes, but one pair of eyes on you in particular seemed to burn.

Eddie Roundtree could only see you there, you were the only one that mattered. Beside him Warren held his drumsticks like "his trademark" posing for the photographers who shouted his name and blowing kisses to the girls who screamed for him, the blonde ignored his insistent calls, his gaze was fixed on you smiling at the photos, greeting the others present at the event and from time to time giving an interview for a report.

After a while watching you from a distance, the bassist pulls his friend by the arm, the drummer without understanding just follows him, waving goodbye to the fans.

"Eddie, what the hell man?" Warren questions, walking into the event with his friend, taking in the surroundings in awe. He always wanted to be here. "I was busy out there."

Roundtree rolls her eyes, "The girls will be there when you leave." He says with certainty, moving on to find the rest of the band to sit together. He couldn't take his eyes off that red dress in the crowd, he just couldn't get over your beauty.

You and Eddie had already crossed paths before, after all, you were on the same label. The first time you talked was at Teddy's birthday party, it wasn't a very long conversation, you were both very drunk so the only thing you remember was ending up kissing each other in a dark room by the end of the night. Since then you have a kind of "thing", an unnamed relationship, something that you both felt and lived a thousand times, you felt like it and quenched it as many times as necessary, but no one could know... For your own good.

It wasn't good for you to change the image you had on the record label, you didn't want anyone to hit on you, much less for things to change just because now you slept with Eddie. Then everything would remain confidential, and that's the end of the story.

And there you were, being admired by everyone at that event, and he couldn't show anyone that he was completely in love with you. You didn't know that, after all, he had never said it, but just seeing you like that made him feel the words escape his throat, wanting to shout to everyone that you were the woman he loved, that he wanted by his side, that you were his and he was completely surrendered to you.

…

As the night progressed, the air in the venue became charged with excitement and anticipation. The awards ceremony began, and each category announcement sent a wave of tension through the crowd. Backstage, you and Eddie found yourselves stealing glances at each other whenever the spotlight shifted away from the stage. The unspoken connection between you two seemed to intensify with each passing moment, as if the magnetic pull that had brought you together refused to be ignored.

As the evening unfolded, Daisy Jones and the Six, Eddie's band, secured their first Grammy win in one of the categories. The room erupted in applause and cheers, and Eddie's eyes sparkled with a mix of joy for his bandmates and pride for their achievement. He turned to you, a radiant smile playing at his lips, silently sharing the triumph with you.

"You were amazing out there," Eddie whispered, his voice filled with admiration. "I couldn't take my eyes off you. The way you commanded the stage... it's, fuck, mesmerizing."

Blushing at his words, you whispered back, "You're not so bad yourself, Mr. Grammy Winner. Congratulations, Eddie. You truly deserve it."

You couldn't help but feel a swell of happiness for Eddie and the rest of Daisy Jones and the Six. Their success was well-deserved, and it only deepened your admiration for his musical talent. However, beneath the surface, a bittersweet realization tugged at your heart. The need for secrecy prevented you from openly celebrating their victory together, from embracing him in the euphoria of the moment. It was a reminder of the sacrifices you both had made to protect your hidden connection. And that's when you notice for the first time that you wanted to celebrate that with him in another way, in a more intimate way, to show yourself there for him.

Throughout the night, as more awards were announced and the energy in the room continued to escalate, you and Eddie found yourselves stealing moments whenever you could. With each category announcement, while others focused on the stage, you would discreetly slip away from the crowd, finding hidden corners and secluded areas where you could steal passionate kisses and stolen glances. The thrill of the clandestine rendezvous heightened the intensity of your desire for each other, fueling a fire that burned beneath the surface.

Amidst the hustle and bustle of the event, Eddie would pull you aside, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Let's take a moment away from all this chaos," he'd suggest, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "I need to steal you away for just a little while."

Giggling, you'd follow him eagerly, your heart racing in anticipation of the stolen moments you were about to share. In those hidden corners, away from prying eyes, he would whisper sweet compliments, his voice laced with adoration.

"Have I told you that you look breathtaking tonight?" Eddie would murmur, his eyes tracing every curve of your figure. "But I have to admit, it makes me a little jealous seeing all those eyes on you. I want to be the only one who gets to see you like this." He whispers, kissing your neck, you feel a shiver down your spine.

You'd blush, feeling a surge of warmth at his words. "Well, I think you'll have to deal with it, 'cuz I have a lot of suitors out there." You shrug, pulling away from his grip.

He raises his eyebrows in disbelief, looking around you in fear someone might see you. "What a smart little mouth you have, huh."

You smile, loving teasing him. "I just told you the truth, it's not my fault that I look beautiful in red."

His fingers would gently brush against your cheek as he leaned in, his voice husky. "You're the most stubborn person I've ever seen, but fuck I love being thwarted by you."

You smile, getting dangerously close to his face. "You like the way I drive you crazy, don't you Roundtree?"

He pushes you against the wall, whispering against your ear, his breath making your entire body shiver. "I hate when you act like that."

A playful smile would tug at your lips as you playfully retorted, "Ah, so that's it, you hate me? Say it to my face then! I'm here, listening to you…" You hold his chin, making him stare at you, fuck... He was completely given to you.

"You can't, right?" You smile, proud to hear he doesn't respond after a considerable time.

Eddie's expression would soften, his gaze filled with affection. Something you really didn't expect, since you were in a different mood, you look questioningly "Don't look at me that way, I haven't done anything. I'm just... helplessly in love with you."

You think you heard wrong, he just smiles and kisses you one more time. The world around you would fade into the background as your lips met in a fiery embrace, the outside world temporarily forgotten. These stolen interludes became your secret haven, where the weight of expectation and the complexities of your careers melted away, leaving only the raw connection between two souls deeply entwined in the music that brought them together.

You hear the end of the presentation and the call for the next nominees, then you return to your seats, you try to hide your racing heart due to Eddie's words but it only gets worse when you notice that this was your nomination. You go back to sitting in your seat, listening to the presenter narrate in a slow and torturous way, it was as if he was speaking at 0.75 speed, you wanted to go there and snatch that paper from his hand and find out at once.

It's like falling off a swing, going down a roller coaster, all the confidence you've carried with you this far slips away and you feel ridiculous thinking you could win that award. You close your eyes, your knuckles must be so white because your hands tingle from the grip you press against them, you feel the coldness of the rings against the palm of his hands the pain of the pressure is soon present, the tension in his shoulders seems to consume you with every word that man says. You open your eyes for a moment, bringing your gaze to Eddie and the rest of the Band, Warren is hugging their grammy like it's a baby smiling at you pointing to the stage in encouragement, Daisy smiles trying to give you comfort, you can read Eddie's lips saying "This award is already yours".

As you stand there, frozen in the moment, you hear the announcer's voice resonating through the grand hall. "And the Grammy for Best Album of the Year goes to... Y/N L/N!"

Time seems to stand still as the words sink in. The room erupts into thunderous applause, a symphony of cheers and admiration for your musical prowess. Your heart swells with a mix of overwhelming joy, disbelief, and gratitude. A single tear escapes from the corner of your eye and traces a glistening path down your cheek.

With trembling legs, you make your way toward the stage. Each step feels surreal, as if you're floating on a cloud of euphoria. The spotlight follows you, illuminating your radiant smile and the shimmering tears of happiness in your eyes.

As you reach the podium, the presenter hands you the coveted Grammy trophy, a symbol of recognition for your artistic brilliance. You hold it in your hands, feeling the weight of the moment, and glance out at the sea of faces, each one a testament to the impact your music has had.

Taking a deep breath, you approach the microphone, your voice steady but laced with emotion. "Thank you," you begin, your voice resonating with genuine appreciation. "This moment is a dream come true, one that I never could have achieved without the unwavering support of my incredible team, my family, and my fans."

The crowd erupts into applause once again, their adoration washing over you like a tidal wave. You continue, your words fueled by the overwhelming surge of gratitude and love within you. "I want to dedicate this award to every person who has ever believed in me, who has felt the emotions I poured into this album. This Grammy is for you. And to my fellow nominees, thank you for inspiring me to reach higher and push the boundaries of my art."

A thunderous applause reverberates through the hall, a standing ovation from your peers, acknowledging your talent and the impact you have made on the music industry. In that moment, you feel an indescribable sense of fulfillment, knowing that your music has touched the hearts and souls of so many.

As you step away from the microphone, the room fills with admiration and reverence. The applause echoes in your ears, a symphony of triumph and celebration. You hold the Grammy tightly to your chest, feeling the weight of the honor and the countless hours of dedication that led to this moment.

Walking back to your seat, you catch Eddie's eyes in the crowd. He is beaming with pride, his applause ringing out among the rest. With a mixture of gratitude and affection, you share a brief, knowing glance, acknowledging the role he played in shaping the album that has now been recognized as the best of the year.

Amidst the applause and adulation, you find a moment of stillness, closing your eyes briefly, as if to etch this extraordinary moment deep into your memory. The realization that your music has touched hearts, moved souls, and now earned the highest accolade in the industry washes over you like a tidal wave of affirmation.

And as the applause gradually subsides, you take a final look at the Grammy in your hands, a symbol of your triumph, and a testament to the power of your artistry. With renewed determination and a heart filled with boundless gratitude, you know that this is just the beginning of an incredible journey that lies ahead, a journey filled with more music, more passion, and more extraordinary moments to be cherished.

…

You pulled the cigarette smoke with your eyes closed, feeling his kisses on your shoulder, the cold early morning wind hit your half-naked skin while his skin warmed you from behind on that porch. The two of you had escaped the crowd to take advantage of each other's presence, congratulate each other on winning the night in a special way, from the balcony you were able to see LA with an air of indifference, as if you didn't belong there, as if you were more than that in a way, feeling part of something bigger.

He continues kissing your shoulder and you put out the cigarette, throwing it away, turning to him and kissing his mouth tenderly, he pulls you close, enjoying your presence near him, feeling your skin was the best thing for him, he knew nothing could match having you under his fingertips. You caress his long blonde hair, lightly pulling his strands feeling him shiver with your touch, he gently pushes you against the glass that separates the balcony from the apartment and you gently end the fervent kissing session with pecks on his lips.

You watch him under the moonlight feeling your chest fill with gratitude for that day, feeling in fact the luckiest woman in the world during that night. You had won a Grammy and you were sleeping with the bassist from the most famous band in the world, better yet, you were falling in love with this bassist.

You hold his face tenderly, wanting this moment to last forever. "You know what?" You question in a whisper, he denies with his head, looking deep into your eyes. "I'm hopelessly in love with you too." You confess and he opens a playful smile, letting out a laugh making you frown not understanding.

"Tell me something I don't know." He shrugs and you give him the middle finger, walking into the apartment and throwing yourself on the bed. "We're both head over heels in love with each other and we're both idiots wanting to deny it" he says laying down next to you, pulling you closer.

You laugh, taking one of your hands to his hair. "Who told you that I've been in love with you for a while?"

"Oh shut up!" He says kissing you, while tickling you.

You pull away from the playful tickling match, both of you breathless and with smiles that light up the room. Your laughter subsides, but the warmth and connection between you remain strong.

Eddie leans against the balcony railing, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You know," he says with a playful smirk, "I think I might have to start a new category at the Grammys for 'Best Kisser.' I'm pretty sure you'd sweep that one too."

You playfully roll your eyes, crossing your arms. "Oh, please," you retort, feigning mock arrogance. "We all know you're just trying to win an award for 'Best Flirt'."

He raises an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face. "Flirting is my hidden talent, babe," he replies, leaning in closer. "But I think you're the real winner here. 'Best Tease' category goes to you, hands down."

You giggle, giving him a light shove. "Oh, come on now," you say, pretending to be offended. "I'm just having a little fun with you. Can't blame me for keeping you on your toes."

He chuckles, wrapping his arm around your waist. "Trust me, I wouldn't have it any other way," he says, pulling you closer. "It's those teasing moments that make being with you so damn exhilarating."

You lean in, whispering in his ear, "You do realize that the award for 'Best Couple Banter' is also in our future, right?"

He grins, his breath tickling your neck. "No doubt about it," he replies, his voice filled with playful confidence. "We're gonna sweep the Grammys and steal the show with our banter skills. Just wait and see."

As you both share a lighthearted laugh, the night breeze carries away any lingering tension. In this moment, with playful banter and gentle touches, you realize that the connection between you and Eddie is not just about music and awards—it's about enjoying each other's company, embracing the fun and spontaneity of life, and cherishing the joy of being together.

You stay on the balcony, arms intertwined, savoring the laughter and the shared moments. The world may know you as Grammy-winner artists, but in this private space, you're simply two souls entwined in a light-hearted and beautiful love story. And as the night unfolds, you can't wait to see what other funny, romantic, and adventurous chapters await you both.

...

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[archer-kacey]

Joey Drew is Gay and there's no way around it (Pt 5)

So what about the women in Joey's life? Well, we hear a fair amount about two women in particular- Lottie, and Abby Lambert.

First, there's Lottie, a telecommunications girl who befriends Joey. She takes a quick liking to him, but Joey seems to have an aversion to any displays of affection she shows him.

In fact, he claims to "not have time for girls" in general, and this seems to be his reasoning behind not pursuing Lottie romantically.

Immediately following this...watertight explanation, Joey goes on a little side quest. See, Lottie notices odd initials on his boots:

She goes on a long search to find the previous owner, updating Joey with her findings often. However, she gets very down on herself when the effort seems to lead to nowhere, and grows weary as many of the men she's been sending messages to are continuously reported dead.

Note how Joey responds to her more somber attitude as the days go on:

He creates an elaborate lie in order to "solve" the mystery, entertain her, and spare her some of the pain of her depression.

It seems the "I don't have time and I'm too selfish" excuse doesn't really hold up. How odd, I was quite sure Joey Drew was being honest and introspective here.

This story gets even weirder, though. Nathan points out via footnote that he couldn't ever find the correspondences between Joey and Lottie- so the legitimacy of this tale is immediately called into question.

If it is completely fabricated, then Joey literally made up a story in which he keeps 99 feet away at all times from an extremely attractive and sweet woman who was very interested in him. If this is the case, it also seems to be some hardcore fishing for cool guy points. Joey comes out looking like a saint, AND he doesn't actually have to go out and catch girl cooties.

This brings us to the end of Lottie's tale, so let's talk about the (only?) confirmed real woman friend of Joey's.

Abby Lambert is the initial artist friend that introduced Joey to Henry. She seems to be his closest woman friend and confidant, and he ends up trusting her to run the art department as a whole.

Notice both her and Joey's reaction when she invites him as her date to an art salon.

In the middle of the skit they perform at said art salon, Joey takes a second to emphasize that they were just friends- an already stated fact.

It's all fake, but even during something so simple, he still makes it a point to clarify that they aren't involved romantically in any way.

If Abby and Lottie are anything to go by, he has a weirdly hypervigilant attitude when it comes to romance with women.

Regarding Abby specifically, here's more food for thought.

While not outright stated, Abby is very queer-coded herself. She's outside the "norm" for women at the time, both in wardrobe choice and attitude. She has a commanding presence, a streak of "rude" humor, and seems to be uncomfortable in dresses, preferring not to wear them at all if she can help it.

While there is no outright confirmation of her sexuality or identity, she sits outside the strict male/female roles of American society at the time.

This has no bearing on Joey's sexuality in a direct sense, but it still does beg the question: could there be a reason why Joey felt more comfortable around a woman who was not as rigid in her gender presentation? He doesn't seem to care that she wears men's suits, in fact he seems to be drawn towards her differences rather than repelled by them.

Even if there is no gaydar involved in how they found each other, there is a marked difference between the women Joey keeps close (Abby), versus the women Joey does not keep so close (Lottie.)

Now, to attempt to end this juggernaut. How about I cram in some odds and ends in the final part? Because yes, believe it or not, there's STILL MORE.

Part 6>

[hellomystraightlacedfriend]

Of the High Evolutionary and Spider-Woman - and why I like Jessica Drew's Second Origin Story the Most

Like a lot of Marvel characters, Jessica Drew has experienced retcons and revisions to her history. In her very first appearance, 'Arachne' was told by Hydra General Vermis that she was originally a spider but was transformed by the High Evolutionary into a woman with spider-like properties. (1st Origin, found in Marvel Spotlight #32: written by Archie Goodwin, with art by Sal Buscema.)

However, this origin was immediately retconned in her very next appearance when it was revealed that Vermis told Jess this story to make her feel disconnected from the rest of humanity. Vermis and Hydra brainwashed her into believing that they were the only people who would want anything to do with her. They were her only hope for survival and acceptance. (The fact that Jess was young and very naive and her pheromones actually did have an unnerving effect on other people made this idea even easier to swallow).

In this version, Jessica Drew was the daughter of Jonathan and Merriem Drew. Jonathan was the research partner of Herbert Wyndham, who would later become the High Evolutionary. When Jess became sick from exposure to uranium as a young child, she was given a cure (made from spider blood), which gave her her powers.

This was Jessica Drew's 2nd origin story (developed largely by writers Marv Wolfman, Mark Gruenwald, Chris Claremont and their respective artists), and the one that was hard canon from the 1970s up until 2005. It's also the backstory that is still used in Marvel handbooks and was the one given in History of the Marvel Universe (2019).

In 2005, Brian Michael Bendis and Brian Reed wrote a 5-issue mini called Spider-Woman: Origin. And while I get why certain changes were made - obviously, there was an effort to simplify/streamline Jess's backstory - I just hate a lot of them. In stripping it down, many aspects of Jess's backstory that I found unique and personally fascinating were lost.

Also, some of the changes actually made things more complicated - like the decision to retcon Wyndham into just a Hydra general. Because the High Evolutionary is a key character in other characters' backstories - like Adam Warlock and the Maximoffs - this decision didn't really stick/was ignored by other writers. Because of this, Spider-Woman: Origin does not fit into the broader continuity of the Marvel Universe.

So today, I wanted to go over what I enjoyed about Spider-Woman's 2nd origin, and examine the changes that were made afterwards.

Before I proceed further, though, I do think it's only fair that I acknowledge that Bendis was responsible for really bringing back Jessica Drew as a character and making her a little less obscure. Also, there are definitely choices he made with the character that I like/find interesting, like: developing her friendship with Carol, continuing her relationships with Wolverine and Nick Fury, and getting her Spider-Woman title/costume back, among others. I even really enjoyed the whole Veranke imposter thing, which I know pissed off some fans.

That said, I still have a very visceral reaction to some of the ways Bendis handled Jessica Drew - and how some fans treat him as the end-all-be-all for the character.

So, let's go.

Part 1: The Man Who Would Be God

Okay, so the thing that probably offended me the most is how Spider-Woman: Origin turned Wynham into just a nondescript Hydra General. The reason for this is because the High Evolutionary and the Drew family actually have a very tightly wound history, and Bendis obviously wanted to stress Jess's relation with Hydra. But even though the High Evolutionary doesn't have a lot of comic book appearances (under 200 as of today) he has been quite an influential character, playing an important part in the Maximoff twins, Adam Warlock, and Spider-Woman's backstories - and also making recurring appearances in X-Men, Avengers, Thor, and even Spider-Man comics.

Also, I just like him. Like yeah, the dude's a piece of shit, but I find him interesting as a character - so that is why I am starting with him and who he is in the main Marvel Universe.

Note: While I am not going to give specific dates, this was originally supposed to take place around the 1920s - 30s. The time period isn't vitally important, though, in my opinion. It was more just that this was supposed to take place some 30+ years before the main Marvel events (like the Avengers, X-Men, and Fantastic Four forming).

Also, no, the High Evolutionary's whole "evolving" animals into more "advanced" versions of themselves isn't scientically accurate - but I like chewing on the thematic elements it creates.

So to begin, Herbert Edgar Wyndham was born in Manchester, England, into what was probably once a well-off family. However, his father’s passing (when Herbert was still young) seemed to have put financial strain on the family. Due to this, Herbert's dream of attending Oxford University to further his studies in genetics depended entirely on him getting a scholarship or sponsorship.

This didn't seem completely out of the realm of possibility - because young Herbert was something of a genius who was already pouring hours of his free time into obsessively studying the genetics of rats.

Herbert had become fixated on the idea of improving the world through accelerated evolution - and he wanted to be the one to do it. He'd even made a machine that he hoped would evolve the rats into later stages of rat evolution. Although all of his attempts so far - which had mostly been bombarding rats with radiation - had just ended with dead rats. But as much as their deaths saddened him, Herbert wasn’t one to give up.

Now Herbert was living with his mother, and she completely doted on him, so when Herbert got an invitation to attend a major genetics conference in Geneva, she was the one to go to all of their relatives to collect money, so he could go on his trip.

And this is where he bumped into a young American - Jonathan Drew, a student at Yale specializing in arthropods.

The two of them hit it off right away - Herbert seeing in Jonathan a fellow "visionary," as Jonathan Drew wanted to use the genetics of spiders to 'improve' the human race - making them less susceptible to toxins and disease.

During the convention, Herbert and Jonathan attended a lecture, where the speaker warned against the dangers of genetic tampering - saying that more theoretical research needed to be done into the long-term effects. Over dinner, an angered Herbert complained to Jonathan about this, when he suddenly felt dizzy and went out to get some air. There, he was approached by the inhuman geneticist Phaeder, who gave Herbert the genetic information he needed to perform his experiments.

(Although Phaeder didn't actually introduce himself as Phaeder, he just gave Herbert a stack of papers and then fucking left. Apparently, Phaeder gave out information like this to other human geneticists as well - like some weird fairy godmother or twisted Prometheus - but his reasons for doing so aren't relevant to this story).

Shortly after this, Herbert did end up getting into Oxford, but he blew the opportunity by spending all of his time working on a machine to turn animals into more "evolved" versions of themselves. When he couldn't even manage a demonstration on what he was working towards, he was kicked out of Oxford.

After getting kicked out, Herbert finally made a successful attempt with his machine - a machine which he had named his "genetic accelerator." He "evolved" his pet dalmatian - enhancing its intelligence to that of a chimpanzee and getting it to walk on its two back legs.

Herbert was estatic. However, the poor dog was accidentally shot by hunters, who then called it "a freak of nature." This led Herbert to believe that the only way for him to keep his "creations" safe was to keep them away from the rest of humanity.

So, he met back up with Jonathan, who had married a European woman and was now living in Europe.

Note: The nationality of Jessica's biological mother is inconsistent across sources, sometimes said to be English, sometimes French. Sometimes, she is listed as being born in Transia. Also, I guess she could have been born in Hungary, too, because of the whole Viper thing. (We'll get back to that.)

Jessica Drew's place of birth, however, is universally London, England.

Anyway, Herbert reconnected with Jonathan Drew, who now had a young daughter named Jessica. Jess seemed a pretty outgoing and affectionate child as she immediately climbed up on Herbert, something her mother scolded her for, but Herbert said he didn't mind.

Herbert and the Drews decided to pool their resources together to create "a citadel of science." Jess's mother, Merriem, had just inherited a tract of land in (the fictional Balkan country of) Transia - in the shadow of Wundagore Mountain. So that's where they decided to set up their base.

Herbert sold his mother's house (without fucking asking her!) for building money. (He'd already persuaded his mother to move into her sister's place so he could rent out the house for money for his experiments - which really demonstrates his complete but rather oblivious self-centeredness.)

With these plans in hand, Herbert, Jonathan, Merriem, and little Jessica all moved to Wundagore together to start their new lives.

Part 2: Wundagore

When Herbert and the Drews got to Wundagore, they immediately heard rumours from the locals that there was an evil spirit trapped in the mountain, and werewolves and vampires living close by. There was, in fact, an evil spirit trapped in the mountain - the evil elder god Chthon - but Herbert and Jess's parents (in a very Dracula moment) dismissed the nearby villagers as superstious simpletons.

Their arrogance grew when they found that the soil in the land they owned contained a lot of uranium ore. Now they would be wealthy! Interestingly, though, this turn in fortune did not cause any friction between Herbert and the Drews, as even though the land was technically Merriem's, Jonathan assured Herbert that they were all full partners in this venture.

Note: It's funny how especially compared to how Bendis and Reed wrote the Wyndham & Drew relationship (in Origin) as being pretty much purely professional - in Mark Gruenwald's hands, Herbert Wyndham and Jess's parents come across as having a rather unconventional closeness.

Herbert especially seems quite fond of Jonathan Drew (even though he often expresses waryness of humanity as a whole), and the fact that their finances are all so willingly tied together is very interesting to me. It would be more expected, particularly in a villain's origin story, for there to be more infighting around money. Instead, Jonathan and Herbert like each other enough that this never became a problem.

Herbert and Jonathan started working on their citadel of science, but because the engineer they hired to build it was obsessed with outerspace, they got a lab with space-faring capabilities. Jonathan was like "is this really necessary???" But he had bigger problems.

His young daughter had collapsed on the dirt she was playing in. Because even though Jonathan warned Merriem to keep Jess away from the dirt, they were both pretty neglectful in actually watching their daughter. Jess was now suffering from uranium poisoning that had been building in her little body for months. She was sick and quickly dying.

In a panic, Jonathan injected his young daughter with the experimental spider-blood serum he had been working on. However, Jess didn’t respond. Herbert then offered to use his genetic accelerator on Jess, but Merriem argued against it. She thought that it was too late for Jessica, and accused her husband and his partner of just using Jess as a guinea pig. Against her wishes, Herbert did put Jess in his genetic accelerator, merging Jess's genetics with those of the spiders.

However, Jess still seemed completely unresponsive, and Herbert put her in an induced coma/partial suspended animation in the hopes that the serum would slowly cure her over time. Angry and distressed that her daughter had been experimented on for what seemed to her no reason, Merriem rushed off into the night - and was killed by a werewolf.

Note: Okay, I wanted to pause here, because I actually highly prefer this version of Jessica Drew getting her powers to the one in Spider-Woman: Origin - where she accidentally gets spider DNA beamed into her body while she's still a fetus.

I just find it more interesting seeing these characters have this genuine fear and panic about their little girl dying - and maybe it resonates with me more because my little brother became very sick when he was three years old and eventually died (and I spent quite a bit of time in children's hospitals growing up) but there's also more nuance in this origin.

For some reason, Bendis and Reed made Jonathan and Merriem Miriam more black-and-white figures, with Jonathan being painted as a guy who secretly hated his daughter - because he's weirded out by her spider DNA - but still used her to advance his research. Whereas Jess's mother was presented as a much more sympathetic figure, as she was first taken in by her husband lies about her daughter being sick and thus the testing on her being necessary, and then later when she found out this wasn't true, she fought to defend her daughter from him.

But in the 2nd origin, especially in the parts penned by Mark Gruenwald, neither of Jess's biological parents was actually perfectly "right." Here, it is pretty clear that although Jonathan genuinely wanted to save his daughter's life, he also really wanted to see if his serum would work, and he very much wanted the glory of that success. However, Merriem was going to stand in the way of her daughter possibly surviving - because on principle, she didn't want her daughter to be used as a science experiment. Jonathan's motives were not close to being 100 percent pure, but if Merriem had gotten her way, Jess would have absolutely died.

Which is more unique for a Marvel backstory, because there are so, so many bad father/nicer mother narratives in Marvel. Which I am not saying this isn't a dynamic that doesn't occur often in real life, but I feel like Jessica's story was more about all her guardians failing her one-by-one.

But anyway, Merriem was killed by a werewolf, and it was Herbert who found her body. Not really believing in werewolves but also not wanting Jonathan to become biased against nonhuman life, Herbert staged the death to look like a fall.

Jonathan was absolutely devastated: first his daughter had become sick/comatose and now his wife was dead. Herbert tried to think of ways to console his despondent friend, but it wasn’t long after this that Herbert woke up to a note from Jonathan Drew, saying that he couldn’t stand being there anymore without Merriem, and he was going back to America. Jonathan left Herbert the citadel, and his daughter.

Part 3: The New Men and Recreating Camelot

So, Herbert found himself alone and lonely in his now completed citadel. The only person with him was his former partner's unconscious child. He decided that he would be a father to this abandoned little girl, and well, any daughter of his was going to have a world-class education. So he set up audio recorded lessons and lectures to play in her cryogenic chamber while she slept.

Herbert was (unsurprisingly) still lonely. He couldn’t really talk to Jessica (and she didn’t seem to be getting better), so he had this whole empty citadel to himself. To keep his mind busy, he set to work on making himself the perfect suit/armour to protect himself from environmental toxins. But also as a 'just in case' - even though he did not believe in werewolves or werewolf folklore or any of this crap about a demon living inside the mountain - he made the suit silver-plated on the outside.

When his perfect silver-plated hazmat suit was completed (after an intense process of trial and error), Herbert started wearing it all the time. It wasn't long, though, before his mind started itching to work on something else, and his thoughts drifted back to the evolved dog he had "created" before.

He started acquiring both domestic and wild animals from all over: lions and tigers and bears and pigs and cows and sheep. And he started putting them through his genetic accelerator. Those that survived and showed successful signs of intelligence, he called his "New Men" - though he would also more affectionately refer to them as his "children."

The New Men were absolutely bewildered by this whole process, but Herbert assured them they would adjust to this new way of existence. He had them watch educational tapes until they gained the ability to speak, and he started to feel a little less lonely.

Then, joy of joy, Jonathan Drew returned to Wundagore. Herbert was like, "I missed you. It hasn't been the same without you!" And Jonathan was like "Actually, I'm not Jonathan. I'm the ghost of 6th century wizard who took possession of your friend's body to warn you that you are in grave danger." And Herbert was like 😯 (Quotes aren't exact exact but pretty damn close).

Herbert didn't believe the whole ghost possession story, but he decided it was "a harmless mental disorder" caused by Jonathan's grief. So when "Jonathan" suggested they teach the New Men to be lance-wielding knights, Herbert decided to commit to some long-term LARPing to make his friend happy. Besides, this new code of honour would guide his New Men, make them civilised. Also, he did enjoy being the king of his castle. This is when Herbert started going by "the High Evolutionary" - a title that "Jonathan" encouraged.

Now Jonathan was, in fact, being possessed by a 6th century ghost. A guy named Magnus, who had come to Wundagore to warn Herbert that all his drilling into the mountain had awakened a dormant demon. Herbert - the High Evolutionary did not want to hear about this, though. He was like (paraphrasing):

"John, dear John, or Lord Magnus - however you want to be called, you can tell me all you want about how you used to work with Morgan Le Fay, before she murdered you with her bare hands, but don't speak to me of demons. I am a man of science™ There are no demons, and there is certainly no demon trapped in my mountain."

But like I said before, there was, in fact, an evil spirit in the mountain. He had been bound to it by Morgan Le Fay and her followers back in the 6th century - once she realised she couldn’t control the spirit she had summoned.

But back in the 20th century, time passed. A decade went by. The New Men, now called the Knights of Wundagore, kept training. Jessica Drew kept sleeping, and in her sleep, she aged very, very slowly. She had still not fully recovered from her sickness, and the High Evolutionary wondered if she ever would.

Then, one stormy night, a woman on the point of giving birth came to Wundagore and gave birth to twins. The mother slipped away in the night, leaving a note asking for the High Evolutionary to find her newborns a good home.

It was during this time that Chthon attacked, and Herbert/the High Evolutionary came face to face with a fucking Elder God. He and his knights fought back but were quickly overpowered, and Herbert watched in horror as many of his "children" were dashed to pieces in front of him. Luckily, Magnus ended up being able to put Chthon back into his dormant slumber, using a magic book called the Darkholde. However, not before Chthon put a piece of his essence into one of the twin babies: the girl who would grow up to be Wanda Maximoff, aka the Scarlet Witch.

Note: Not related to Spider-Woman: Origin directly, but I have seen other people bring up Bendis' erasure of Wanda's chaos magic (in his Avengers Dissambled Arc) and speculate that he was trying to write Chthon out of the Maximoff twins' backstory and out of the Marvel Universe. This is most likely true. For some reason, Bendis seemed determined to take all the magic away from Wundagore Mountain, which - is something I'm not a fan of.

Back to the story though, one of the surviving New Men, a cow-woman who Herbert named "Bova" (derived from a Latin word for cow) was tasked with taking care of the infants, while the High Evolutionary looked for a new home for them. He ended up placing the infants with Django and Marjya Maximoff, a Romani couple who were unable to have children of their own.

Note: Sorry, another complaint...it’s just super weird in Spider-Woman: Origin that the whole Bova in evolved cow is made out to be a delusion put in Jessica Drew’s mind by Hydra, and that Bova is actually a human woman named Bova????? I'm sorry, but why the fuck would that be her name? Did her parents hate her?

Also, it's just annoying because Bova doesn't have a purpose in the story other than to be a vehicle for the writers to be like "oh, yeah, we are retconning the High Evolutionary and his New Men! Yep, they never existed. Mhm, Hydra made them up entirely to mentally torture one child."

It seems evident that someone thought that this origin was too weird, but I just – aghhhhhhh. Okay, let’s move on.

After this, Magnus departed, saying that his duties there were done and that he had to relinquish Jonathan's body and return to his grave. But he also told the High Evolutionary that he would miss him and tasked Herbert with not neglecting the daughter of the man whose body Magnus had borrowed.

Part 4: Leaving 'Paradise'

It would still be years, though, before Jessica Drew finally woke up well from her prolonged sleeping beauty slumber. When she did wake up, her memories of her parents and her former life were very dim. She had been so young when she had gotten sick that she didn't remember anything clearly from before. So this strange world of talking, anthropomorphic animals and a knight's code of honour and all that - that was the world she really grew up in.

Note: I think that's part of what made me fall so hard for this backstory. Something about how casually and naturally Jess relayed it all to Nick Fury when looking back years later: the "High Evolutionary" promising to raise Jess like his own daughter, animals with the intelligence and faculty of human beings, the desire to recreate Camelot. They were all presented as the most normal things in the world, which is what really gripped me.

Because that is how a child raised in a bizarre environment would take it in - as their normal. And as someone who grew up in a cult, well, I really resonated with that. I mean, there are other ways that Jess's upbringing resembles being brought up in a cult (which I'll talk about a bit more soon) - but even the just talking about bizarre things as if they are completely straightforward (because that was your lived experience) is so interesting to me.

I also really like the idea of Jess being raised in a knight-centred culture, because this actually gives more context/insight into her character. Like why she has more negative emotions around being "a coward" than she does about killing people. Or why one of the things that pisses her off the most is seeing someone attack someone who is weak/defenceless, and why Jess would go in for the kill against the attacker in those situations. Of course, anyone would be upset about that, but there is a such level of anger there that we can see this goes against one of her core beliefs. An honourable knight is going to defend the weak, and hurting someone who is weaker than you is utterly despicable.

And it's just interesting that these values are following her even to this day, even though they were put in place by someone who was neglectful/abusive.

That's getting a little ahead of the story though:

So, when Jess woke up she had only physically aged to around 10 years old (or in some sources her early teens) - even though she had been asleep for over three decades. However, because she'd been in a coma-like state all this time, emotionally, she was still younger.

The High Evolutionary immediately placed Jess in Bova's care. He claimed he would be like a father to her, but he was preoccupied. His confrontation with Chthon had had a huge impact on him. For the first time, he had been come across something he couldn’t explain and was so much more powerful than him. That had rattled him, had shaken him to the core.

It's also possible that witnessing so much death and having his friend effectively abandon him a second time had resulted in Herbert becoming more emotionally detached. When he did interact with Jessica, it was mostly to examine the abilities he and Jonathan had given her.

One of the darker implications from around this time is that Jess has an ability to be resistant to toxins, but the way the power works is that she has to be exposed to a poison, endure the effects of it, heal from it, and then she will have an immunity to it. The fact that she already has a very clear understanding of how that power works in her first solo series suggests that multiple poisons were tested on her before it.

Looking back at this time in her life, Jess also expressed that she mostly felt like a labratory animal (which could be one reason why she has such a strong affinity towards characters like Logan/Wolverine or even the Hulk.)

Note: I will say that Spider-Woman: Origin does also have Jess be a test subject (although Jonathan is the perpetrator instead of The High Evolutionary.) I also do think the writers of the mini did enough research into Jessica Drew that they did try bring forward some of the same themes.

Sadly, one thing that was lost in this new origin was Jessica Drew seeing her father/father figure as a god/God. It's just one of my favourite things in stories where parental figures are lifted up onto this worshipful pedestal, and in this case, it makes a lot of sense. The High Evolutionary did save Jess's life, and he had cared for her even after her biological father abandoned her. He was her saviour.

Also, all these people around her - the New Men - they saw the High Evolutionary as God, because he was the one who had brought them to this new level of consciousness, and if he wanted to, he could also take that away. The New Men had also basically been taught that their whole purpose in life was to serve the High Evolutionary. This was readily accepted by most of them, and while others, like Bova, would go on to ponder if there was more to their existence, no one at this time was really questioning the High Evolutionary's authority. He was their king, their God, their everything.

And this does remind me of how cult members are "supposed to" and how many people in cults do view cult leaders. Add to this that the High Evolutionary did not allow outsiders (with very exceptions) into Wundagore, and that he forbade the New Men and Jessica Drew from ever leaving, and you have a very isolated and insular environment. Which is very, very cult-like.

There is also something about how the High Evolutionary can and later does devolve New Men - whether that be as punishment, or because he thought it was a mistake to evolve them up in the first place, or just because he was tired of a particular New Man - that makes me think of the dehumanisation that often takes place in cults. How personhood can be given or taken away.

Not that this is the only way to view the High Evolutionary, especially since he does eventually become more and more actually godlike in power and is even referred to as "God" at some points - you could also see the High Evolutionary as critique on God or how God is perceived, or well, something else entirely I suppose.

However you want to look at it, being "God" isn't always easy. Which Herbert was starting to realise.

Because the New Men saw him as this omniscient being, the High Evolutionary was getting flooded with questions. So, to bear the brunt of that barrage, the High Evolutionary recruited Jane Foster (yes, that Jane Foster) to be the New Men's new teacher. That way he could concentrate on what was really important to him.

Which, if you thought that would be spending some quality with his adopted daughter...well, no, that wasn't even on his radar. What he wanted to do was work on his genetic accelerator, with the hopes of making more advanced New Men.

It was just the hand that fate had handed him, his duty to make a perfect world, yada yada

Now Thor (Jane's love) happened to see Jane being taken off to an isolated location and thought she had been kidnapped. He came down to Wundagore, and basically walked into an ongoing battle.

The High Evolutionary had been making adjustments to his genetic accelerator, and had beamed a different type of isotope at the wolf he was evolving up. The wolf ended up coming out more "advanced" than the other New Men: smarter, more capable, but also filled with hate - towards the High Evolutionary and all of humanity. Declaring himself to be the "Man-Beast," the evolved wolf quickly took control of the genetic accelerator, and made new New Men - ones who would be loyal to him and help him overthrow the High Evolutionary.

A battle ensued, with Thor joining forces with the High Evolutionary, the Knights of Wundagore, and Jessica Drew to put down the Man Beast's rebellion. (This would be the first time Jess would use her venom blasts in a fight.) The Man-Beast and his underlings were defeated, but the High Evolutionary was again shaken. For the first time, he wondered if he had made a mistake tampering with evolution. Thor certainly thought so.

Finally, the High Evolutionary decided that humanity and his New Men couldn’t peacefully coexist. So, taking all but a handful of his New Men into his spaceflight-capable citadel, he took off for the stars.

Jessica Drew watched in Bova's arms, as her home lifted off the ground and disappeared into the sky.

Note: I don't know why, but I just find the image of Jess watching her home and her father/God disappear into outerspace never to return to her again particularly poignant. I especially ruminate on this when thinking about her and Carol, and how they see outerspace so differently. Carol having such positive connotations with it, and Jess such negative ones. It would just be interesting if it went all the way back to their childhood. (Even though, of course, a big reason why Jess hates/is scared of space is the whole being kidnapped/held captive by Skrull thing.)

But to return to the story, Jess and Bova and the rest of the New Men have to go on and adjust to life without their "God." Now none of the New Men, besides Bova, had really shown Jess any love or acceptance. They had tolerated her presence because the High Evolutionary had called her his daughter. However, now that the High Evolutionary was no longer there, well, things were different. The New Men started to become more and more vocal about their dislike for Jessica Drew.

The reason why they disliked her basically came down to two things. 1) at this point time Jess was instinctively/subconsciously giving off alarm pheromones that upset people around her 2) the fact that she had both human and spider DNA upset the New Men's sense of order. The High Evolutionary was fully human. They were animals brought up to personhood, but Jess was neither of those things, so they did not know how to view her.

Also, now that the High Evolutionary was gone, Jessica Drew was the only none New Man around, and though she begged and pleaded for their acceptance, the New Men just became more and more hostile towards her.

Finally, Bova decided that this was getting way out of hand, and she and Jess agreed maybe it would be best if Jess left and tried her luck among humankind. At this point in time, Jess was physically around seventeen, but because she was still catching up from spending a chunk of her childhood unconscious and had lived such an isolated existence, she came across as younger and was certainly very naive.

Despite this, Bova did not go with the child she had been ordered to take care of. Not that I actually exactly blame her in this situation. It had never been her decision to have or take care of a child. Also, she probably thought that Jess had a higher chance of being accepted if she weren't with a talking cow. Bova would have also wanted to stay with the people/community she knew and cared about, and would not want to go to some stranger place where she knew she would be shunned.

This did lead, however, to Jess going out into the world alone, a child among strangers. And in very mutant backstory fashion [even though Jess is not mutant - well, at least, not as of yet] Jess ended up accidentally killing a human man with her powers. (She was suddenly startled and hit him with a venom blast.) This led to the village turning against her, and a terrorist organisation - Hydra - coming to her "rescue."

Part 5: Hydra

After this point, this origin and Spider-Woman: Origin become a lot more alike. In both origins:

Jess joins Hydra when she is physically seventeen but emotionally/mentally younger (because in both origins she spends a sizable chunk of her childhood unconscious.) She is lied to/brainwashed in some way. She is then trained to be a spy/fighter/assassin. A guy named Jared starts a manipulative relationship with her, as he becomes her boyfriend and handler. Jared allows himself to be captured by S.H.I.E.L.D., so that Jess will come and rescue him and kill Nick Fury. Jess breaks into Fury's location, but while she is there, it is revealed to her that Hydra - and Jared specifically - have been attacking innocent/defenceless people. Jared tells Jess that their relationship was fake/that he never loved her/that he found her disgusting - before he ends up dying by her hand. Jess then ends up killing Otto Vermis. Fury tries to recruit her to S.H.I.E.L.D., but she slips through his fingers.

Some differences include:

1.

In Spider-Woman: Origin Taskmaster is shown to the one who trained Jessica Drew. This is more an addition than a contradiction to anything that was previously canon. And it's something I do actually like/have no problem with.

Well, the one nitpick I have is Taskmaster taunting Jess's costume - which would not bother me in isolation. It's just that Bendis put her back in this costume, only to have multiple people make fun of it, so whenever I see a character doing that, I hear it in Bendis' rather than the character's voice.

I also would have kind of preferred if Chris Claremont's addition to the costume's history was included. Basically Claremont had it be Jess's idea - that she fought for - to have the costume be not the usual Hydra green.

The brightly coloured costume is not great for stealth work, but I would say that it could speak to Jess's character. The colours are interesting because they are typical of poisonous animals, so the costume is like a warning sign. It could speak to Jess's sense of fairness or even her cockiness to go after her enemies in red and yellow and black.

It would also make a lot more sense to why she kept using the costume after leaving Hydra, even though that wasn't the smartest decision. If she chose the colours and felt like this was her first successful rebellion after being controlled all her life, yeah, that would give a lot more emotional/sentimental value to the costume.

I also like this idea because the person who designed Spider-Woman's original costume was actually a woman, the Marie Severin.

2.

In previous versions Otto Vermis was the Hydra general Jess was serving under, and who she killed by bending the wing of his plane and making it crash. But because Spider-Woman: Origin plays musical chairs with the characters, Wyndham (instead of being the High Evolutionary) is the Hydra general, and Vermis (instead of being the general) is just a Hydra guy Jess sleeps with for information about her father's whereabouts and then kills after he tries to kill her.

Now I don’t think it's totally out-of-character for Jess to start a sexual relationship with someone she is not attracted to in order to save/protect someone she loves, because the upper limit to what she would do to protect the people in her life is very high, but I still thought this was well, unnecessary.

3.

In Spider-Woman: Origin, Jonathan Drew is killed by Viper because he finally decides he doesn't want to be involved with Hydra anymore. In Spider-Woman (1978) after finally returning to America, Jonathan Drew is killed by an American congressman because Jonathan uncovered the motives of this group he was doing research for.

I will say that Spider-Woman: Origin is neater - is that the word? - more contained with Jessica Drew's parents' deaths. Miriam Drew is killed by her husband in front of her daughter, and then Jonathan Drew is killed by Hydra, specifically Viper. But in my opinion, the addition of having Jess see her father kill her mother in front of her doesn't really add anything to her character. And because earlier in Origin, they also had Jonathan Drew not like Jess from birth, it just kept making me think of Brian Banner, and how this backstory fits Bruce Banner better.

For some reason, it also really irritates me that Merriem/Miriam is made out to be the vastly better parent, and I don’t like how this has continued into newer comics. Maybe this is an overreaction, but I feel like I'm being spoon-fed this idea that all biological mothers are instinctively more loving and nurturing.

Speaking of biological mothers though, I did say I would get back to Viper. So, basically, the story behind Viper and Spider-Woman is just that Chris Claremont wanted Viper to be Jessica Drew's mother, so he made that retcon in Spider-Woman (1978) #44. However, J. M. DeMatteis, who was writing Captain America comics parallel to this, apparently didn’t like this idea, or someone didn't like it, so the retcon was retconned a year later (in Captain America #281.) So now Viper wasn't actually Jessica Drew's mother. Morgan Le Fay had just planted false memories in Viper's mind to make her believe that she was Jessica Drew's mother.

Which I mean I don’t really mind either scenario. I would be cool with Viper being Jess's biological mother, but also Morgan Le Fay did want to be the one to kill Jessica Drew (after Jess refused to swear eternal fealty to Morgan Le Fay and instead skewerd Morgan with her own sword), so I could totally see Morgan fucking with Viper's mind/memory just so that Viper would hesitate and not beat her to killing Jess.

4.

Okay, I am just going to make note of one other difference, and then I'm done, I'm through.

Weird thing: Jessica Drew unexplainably attending San Francisco State University in Origin takes me out of the story more than the not-scientifically sound explanation of being "extensively educated by the High Evolutionary during stasis." I actually find it pretty easy to accept the story logic of Jess learning languages and the contents of books subconsciously.

But not only does Jess attending university not fit with Spider-Woman (1978) or any of Jess's earlier appearances, but it leads to so many unanswered questions, like (if she wasn’t learning anything in the ten years she was in a coma) what was her schooling like up to this point? How did she get into university without a prior education, or transcripts? Like maybe she's just sitting in on a class, but that is not explained either. Nothing is explained.

Okay, I'm finally done now. Thanks for reading, and if you'd like, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the subject too!

Sources:

Thor #134-135 (Stan Lee/Jack Kirby)

Marvel Spotlight #32 (Archie Goodwin/Sal Buscema)

Marvel Two-In-One #29-#33 (Marv Wolfman/Ron Wilson)

Spider-Woman (1978) #1, #5, #6, #20, #35, #37 (Marv Wolfman/Carmine Infantino; Mark Gruenwald/Carmine Infantino; Chris Claremont/Steve Leialoha)

Avengers #187 (Mark Gruenwald, Steven Grant, David Michelinie/John Byrne)

The Saga of the High Evolutionary (Mark Gruenwald/Paris Cullins & Ron Lim), found in:

X-Factor Annual #3, The Punisher Annual #1, Silver Surfer Annual #1, New Mutants Annual #4, Fantastic Four Annual #21, Amazing Spider-Man Annual #22, X-Men Annual #12, Web of Spider-Man Annual #4, West Coast Avengers Annual #3

Collected by bringbackwendellvaughn here:

Scarlet Spider Unlimited (Glenn Herdling/Tod Smith)

Quicksilver #9 (John Ostrander, Joe Edkin/Ivan Reis)

Marvel Atlas #1

Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe Vol 1 #5

Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe Vol 1 #14

Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe Vol 2 #15

Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe: Avengers 2005

All-New Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe A to Z #5

FF: Fifty Fantastic Years

History of the Marvel Universe (2019) #4 (Mark Waid/Javier Rodriguez & Alvaro Lopez)

Spider-Woman: Origin (Brian Michael Bendis, Brian Reeds/Jonathan Luna, Joshua Luna)

[butterflyhiptattoo]

Emerging From the Magazines: Bob Mizer's Athletic Models Guild

When twenty-four-year-old Bob Mizer began marketing photographs of men in posing straps in 1946, he was already on a crusade.

He was tired of police harassment in Pershing Square – a well-known meeting spot for gay men in downtown Los Angeles where he socialized with friends nearly every day during high school. They gossiped about their fellow Pershing Square regulars – the effeminate belles, the butch trade, and some in between. But in 1940 he wrote in his diary of a crackdown: "vice clean up is tightening Lillie is really serious about cleaning up the city," using a slang term common in gay circles for the police.

He also made weekly visits to the nearby Los Angeles Central Library and was tired of reading psychology books on the danger posed by "sexual variants" such as himself and his friends. "Anything you could read anywhere showed how pernicious a thing this was... [how] you would deteriorate into a mass of trembling flesh if you did these things," he later complained.

He was also tired of arguing with his Mormon mother, who vociferously objected to his transgender friend Rodney-later known as Daisy -who was bullied at school for wearing pink girls' slacks and having plucked eyebrows. Delia Mizer called Rodney a "pansy" and labeled his sexual proclivities "against all the laws of nature." Her son responded angrily, using a very different vocabulary, one that drew on notions of legal equality and civil rights: "Most people are just obeying their impulses," he retorted. "Should they be denied the right to fulfill their instincts?"

As a young man, Mizer had already identified the many ways society looked down on "temperamental people" like him and his circle of Pershing Square friends. More important, he was also clearly determined to do something about it to confront the legal, medical, and religious prejudices that so viscerally affected his life.

One Sunday night in March 1940 he was on the telephone listening to Rodney describe his sexual exploits from the night before. Someone else on his party line was also listening in a common occurrence at a time when only the rich had private telephone lines. Using vulgar lan-guage, the eavesdropper expressed his contempt for such people. Mizer had had enough. He channeled his anger into his diary that night: "My aim in life will be to create tolerance among mankind and especially to vindicate the decent, spiritual Urning," using a nineteenth-century term for men attracted to other men. He was beginning to articulate the sense of defiance that had been building up inside him. Soon his rudimentary efforts to create tolerance made it into print. "This week I made my column risqué," he noted of his writing in the Polytechnic High School newspaper. "All of my gay friends are included." Even as an eighteen-year-old high school student, Mizer demonstrated a willingness to defy convention and assert his desires. He had also developed the ability to publicly affirm his gay friends if in a coded way that perhaps only they would understand.

Mizer's ambition was to be an author. He was not just a columnist but an editor of his high school's award-winning newspaper – considered one of the top ten in the country by the Columbia University School of Journalism. He had begun creative writing in grammar school and published several short stories. He was also a voracious reader, checking out popular psychology and sexology books like Out-witting Our Nerves and Sexual Power on his weekly runs to the Los Angeles Public Library. He so identified with Boris Barisol's biography of writer Oscar Wilde, subtitled The Man, the Artist, the Martyr, that he labeled his own 1940 diary "Bob Mizer: The Man, the Thinker, the ?" One of his teachers suggested that his skills at writing, shorthand, and typing would easily land him a steady job as a court reporter. But Mizer wanted to write his own book. He would call it "How You Can Help the Homosexualists" and would target younger gay men whose worldview had not yet formed.

Although he never published such a book, writing would occupy much of his life, as he penned hundreds of feisty editorials denouncing censorship, puritanism, and prejudice for his magazine Physique Pictorial, which he published for over twenty years. Not unlike the book he hoped to write, Physique Pictorial offered help and comfort to tens of thousands of gay men in Cold War America. As the editor of the first large-circulation American magazine targeting gay men, Mizer found a way to help the community he had found at Pershing Square. In the pages of his path-breaking magazine, Mizer honed the skills he first tried out in his high school newspaper-thumbing his nose at the authorities while speaking up for his friends.

In postwar America, a commercial network of gay physique photographers and magazine publishers emerged from the contests and magazines surrounding the physical culture movement. Bob Mizer was neither the first nor the only gay man to capitalize on his community's interest in physique photography. But he became the center of a network that served to connect, inspire, and politicize that subculture. He drew on an older tradition of gay photographers marketing their products through an underground market or in the back pages of mainstream fitness magazines. But with the founding of Physique Pictorial in 1951, he opened this tradition to public scrutiny and a new level of visual and discursive engagement. He was joined by Irv Johnson, the owner of a gym in Chicago, who began publishing Tomorrow's Man in 1952, and by Randolph Benson and John Bullock, a gay couple who met at the University of Virginia, who began publishing Grecian Guild Pictorial in 1955. Together they created a new genre of small magazines that would help serve and unite gay men throughout the country. 

The social world Mizer constructed with his gay high school friends at Pershing Square was central to his budding role as a pioneering gay entrepreneur. "The number of faggots cruising around here is legion," remembered the writer Hart Crane. But the number of available sexual partners was only part of the appeal. "Here are little fairies who can quote Rimbaud before they are eighteen," he observed, suggesting how the space also offered an education in gay cultural codes. It was through connections made there that Mizer not only discovered a sense of community and a sense of oppression but also learned about a central feature of gay male culture: photography of the nude male.

While still in high school, Mizer went to a party at his friend Sydney Phillip's place, where three gay friends posed in the nude for "artistic studies" that the host photographed. "It was terribly cute to see them rush to hide in the bathroom whenever a knock was heard at the door," Mizer noted of the models' skittishness. Featured in one of the first entries in his 1940 diary, the night clearly made an impression. A few months later Mizer himself posed for another gay photographer and became "enthused about barbell exercising."3

Weightlifting led Mizer to another formative influence: Strength & Health, the preeminent physical culture magazine published by Bob Hoffman in York, Pennsylvania. Mizer began reading the magazine in high school when he started lifting weights – he purchased his barbells through its back pages. He enjoyed the bodybuilding photos and articles but was particularly intrigued by the monthly "S & H Leaguers' Page," a pen-pal service for those who wanted to exchange letters and photographs. Members often described their hobbies and interests, which included not only bodybuilding and physique photographs but often music, ballet, and theater. In April 1945 Mizer placed the following notice, hoping to connect with other leaguers; he included his home address, which would become the legendary home of his physique studio: "Bob Mizer, 1834 West 11th St., Los Angeles, Cal. is interested in photography and creative writing, and promises an immediate answer and exchange of photos to all who write. He uses a York barbell and other training appliances and hopes that we will allot more space to the league notes, as he enjoys reading this department and writing to other leaguers. "

The response was overwhelming – Mizer received over three hundred letters from fellow S & H Leaguers, some of whom remained life-long friends. Other leaguers reported similar responses from their no- tices. One received such a flood of mail-but to the wrong address – that the Post Office requested he issue a correction immediately. Mizer later praised this service for allowing "lonely bodybuilders and others" not only to correspond but also to form "long-lasting and fruitful" friendships. His positive experience with the S & H Leaguers' Page offered a pivotal lesson, demonstrating to Mizer the desire of men who enjoyed physique photography to connect with each other.

After high school graduation he worked as an office clerk and typist for the Texas & Fort Worth Railroad, but in his spare time he also began to help out at various Los Angeles photography studios, learning how to pose models, position lighting, and develop film. In the summer of 1945, during the final days of World War II, Mizer was full of excitement as he made plans over the establishment of what he was already calling "my business." He was honing his craft by apprenticing at Fred- erick Kovert's Hollywood studio. "I am helping him in my spare time in order to decide whether or not to come into the studio to work." Kovert was a former silent movie actor who had become one of the more daring and well-known photographers of nude men. Mizer was one of numerous young men working for Kovert, doing much of the photography that bore his name. Mizer often brought models there, used his darkroom, and even posed himself. He could do none of this at home, since his mother, who ran a rooming house, did not approve of his interest in photographing nearly naked men. Still, he found Kovert to be controlling and difficult to work with.

Soon he bought his own camera and started to frequent Muscle Beach and bodybuilding competitions to find models. Muscle Beach in Santa Monica-not far from the home he shared with his mother near downtown Los Angeles was the center of the postwar interest in bodybuilding and beefcake. It was the perfect place to meet bodybuilders who were anxious to be photographed. "I modeled for Bob Mizer in 1947, '48," Ben Sorensen remembered. "Bob came down to Muscle Beach and just talked to people, you know? He invites us up. Of course everybody's interested, when they're bodybuilding, in getting some free pictures." It was Bob McCune, another bodybuilding champion Mizer photographed, who convinced Mizer to submit his photos to Strength & Health. Editor John Grimek, himself a well-known bodybuilding champion, encouraged Mizer to submit more work. "Yours are as good as others," Grimek told the budding photographer when they met at one of the bodybuilding competitions in Los Angeles. 

Mizer called his business the Athletic Model Guild (AMG) and offered his first advertisements in Strength & Health in 1946, where they competed for attention with similar advertisements from other gay photographers, such as Alfonso Hanagan, known as "Lon of New York." Hanagan had first become interested in physique photography when he became enthralled with images of bodybuilder Tony Sansone, who marketed his own photographs. After moving to New York in 1936 to pursue a career in music, he met Sansone and began to socialize with and photograph him and his friends. By the 1940s his physique photographs were being featured on the cover of Strength & Health and bodybuilders began seeking him out, hoping to appear on magazine cover. As payment, the magazine gave him free ad space in the back of the magazine. It was this mutually profitable world of photographers, bodybuilders, and magazine publishers that Mizer would enter, then help to transform.

When Mizer began marketing physique photography to a gay audience, he joined a field with deep roots in gay culture. The taking, sharing, and selling of such images had been central to gay culture for well over a half century by the time Mizer discovered it. Wilhelm von Gloeden began selling photographs of nude young men he posed in classical staging in Taormina, Sicily, in the 1890s. He developed a large following in cosmopolitan circles, especially among cultivated gay men. Some of his more restrained images appeared in European journals that were popular within the Aesthetic movement, while his nudes circulated through an underground market. Oscar Wilde and other gay notables made pilgrimages to his studio.

In addition to such high art, images of nearly nude men circulated in the context of the physical culture movement, starting with images of Eugene Sandow in the 1890s. By the 1920s nude photos were widely marketed in the back of both art and physical culture magazines. Physical culturist John Hernic offered nude photos in the back of Art Magazine in the 1920s and Strength & Health in the 1930s. "These photos will be a source of inspiration to you in your training for a well developed body," Hernic's ad promised, providing a small image of a muscled and oiled young man with a prominent posing strap a pouch hanging off a string that covered only the genitals, the most revealing item of clothing a model could wear.

Collector Robert Mainardi identifies Hernic as a "mail-order pioneer," but his Apollo Art Studios was soon joined by others. To earn a living during the Depression, brothers Fred and William Ritter photographed themselves and their fellow physical culturists who trained at a New York City YMCA. They developed their own photos and sold high-quality images for $1 apiece. Film historian Thomas Waugh labels them "the first gay generation of physique photographers. "10

Nude figure studies were only one of the many items available for sale in the back pages of these magazines. There were advertisements for barbells, food supplements, clothing, figure studies, and more. Indeed, most magazines were simply vehicles to sell products. Bob Hoffman founded the York Barbell Company a year before he founded his magazine Strength & Health and admitted the periodical was really a means to sell equipment. Both Hoffman and his main competitor Joe Weider distributed their fitness magazines at a loss, seeing them as a way to sell more barbells. Some of the first famous bodybuilders were similarly engaged in marketing products. Eugene Sandow – considered the world's most perfect man – performed on the vaudeville circuit, published books on physical culture techniques, and marketed postcards of his own image. As much a brand name as a bodybuilder, Sandow opened a chain of vegetarian restaurants, sanatoriums, and hotels that by the 1920s made him a millionaire. Bodybuilding promoter Bernarr Macfadden also constructed a commercial empire around the sport that included health retreats, restaurants, beauty contests, book sales, lectures, and mail-order fitness courses. Right from the start, bodybuilding was a lucrative business, the centerpiece of a network of consumer items.

A legend has developed that Mizer's first business plan was to serve as a referral service between models and the studios that required their services. According to this legend, the talent agency model failed, but Mizer díscovered, as if by accident, that the photographs were more lucrative than the modeling connections. This unsubstantiated story implies that his idea of marketing photos to gay men was sui generis. It cuts Mizer off from the long tradition of gay men taking, exchanging, and purchasing such photographs, beginning in the late nineteenth century. One of the sources of the legend was Wayne Stanley, a Mizer protégé who inherited Mizer's business and who self-servingly asserted that AMG was "the first photographic studio of the young male physique, ignoring Von Gloeden, Hernic, the Ritter Brothers, Lon of New York, Kovert, and many others. Mizer's diaries suggest that photography was key from the beginning and that he considered himself to be part of a field of physique photographers from at least 1946. While a pioneer in many ways, Mizer did not create the genre. 

Although the selling of physique-type photographs was not new, in the post-World War II era such imagery was becoming a much more visible component of American culture. Men had only recently started appearing shirtless in public. While European men had begun going topless on beaches soon after World War I, one-piece men's bathing suits emerged in the United States only in the 1930s. Some called them "Depression suits," suggesting that the shirt disappeared owing to lack of funds. As more and more proud male bathers defied convention by exposing their chests, the media began to talk of a "no shirt movement." Some beach communities such as Atlantic City, New Jersey, pushed back and banned topless male bathing. Responding to the changing beach regulations, clothing manufacturers offered detachable tops for their swimsuits. Representing the shifting cultural sands, their advertisements often featured one shirtless male and another with trunks and a tank top. According to David Chapman, by 1937 the controversy was settled, as most of the nation's beaches allowed men to appear shirtless.

World War II brought images of shirtless sailors and soldiers into American homes and theaters. In covering the war, New York magazines and Hollywood films soon reflected the trend toward displays of the male chest. A cover of Look magazine in 1942 featured a shirtless image of Muscle Beach denizen John Kornoff, the U.S. Army's first physical trainer. Cannon Towel advertisements in Life featured soldiers bathing in the South Pacific wearing nothing but one of its products. Within a year of the war's end, as Mizer started marketing his photo albums, Sidney Skolsky, sitting across town in Swab's drugstore writing his nationally syndicated gossip column, coined "beefcake" to refer to Hollywood's liberal use of Guy Madison's physique. Madison had been discovered by gay Hollywood agent Henry Willson, who also named and popularized gay actors Tab Hunter and Rock Hudson. Skolsky dubbed the bevy of male actors posing in bathing suits a "beefcake brigade," and this new term for displays of young, pulchritudinous male flesh took hold. Willson was a frequent client of physique photographer Lon of New York but was now bringing that same look to Hollywood. So the popularization of "beefcake" imagery and terminology, from their very origins, had a gay inflection.

But if male torsos could increasingly be seen on American beaches and in popular periodicals after World War II, they were still considered taboo in town. Men would continue to be subject to arrest for appearing shirtless on many city streets and in parks into the early 1960s. They were particularly vulnerable to such arrest if they did so in a known gay cruising area, reflecting the tensions in American culture over male nudity and its homoerotic implications. A seventeen year-old Harvey Milk remembered being charged with indecent exposure in the summer of 1947 for baring his chest in a secluded gay cruising area of Central Park, even as men with families did exactly the same on the more public grassy lawns. Being grouped among "the men without their shirts" was one of Milk's first visceral experiences of antigay oppression. 

As interest in the male physique increased during the postwar period, Mizer's Physique Pictorial would catch the beginnings of a cultural wave. Yet he would also feel the wrath of law enforcement that tried to shut his business down, even before it was formally on its feet. He and his magazine would be caught up in legal disputes over the sexual meaning of such displays of male flesh. For the next two decades, Mizer would place himself at the center of this battle.

POSTAL INSPECTOR VISIT

On July 23, 1945, Mizer had his first of many encounters with federal law enforcement authorities. After leaving work as usual at the Texas & Fort Worth Railroad and bicycling by the library on Pershing Square to exchange some books, Mizer arrived home to find postal inspectors waiting for him. They searched his room, found "dirty pictures," and took him to their offices for questioning. Mizer somehow escaped arrest, but a few months later Kovert's studio was also raided, resulting in headlines in the Los Angeles Examiner. Intimately involved in the resulting legal drama, Mizer attended court with Kovert, who pleaded guilty to possession of obscene materials, and drafted a letter for Kovert's customers seeking their support. Not even the intimidating tactics of the Post Office and the court system seem to have deterred the twenty-three-year-old Mizer. "Spent evening on [Athletic Model] Guild calls and letters," he wrote in his diary, just two days after being what he described as "probed" by postal inspectors. Rather than serve as a deterrent, Mizer's encounter with federal postal authorities seemed to increase his resolve and suggests how his struggle with the forces of censorship formed a central component of his business. Mizer would face arrest again in 1947 and 1954 in connection with his business, each encounter with the authorities sharpening his sense of outrage.

Mizer began his business in 1946 by producing and distributing mimeographed "albums" to sell his beefcake photographs, copying the standard operating procedure followed by Kovert of Hollywood, Lon of New York, and many other such photographers.17 He would send customers who responded to his advertisements in Strength & Health a one-page sample of photo albums, from which they could select the models and images they wanted to purchase. However, Mizer's early albums went beyond providing the necessary marketing information. Mizer peppered his albums with news and commentary on the physique world-biographies of models, bodybuilding contest results, and warnings about Post Office crackdowns. As with his earlier writings in high school and his later editorials in Physique Pictorial, Mizer constructed a narrative that drew customers and models into the same enlightened circle of upstanding physique enthusiasts and supporters of free speech, while casting public censors and moralists into the darkness.

Starting with Forrester Millard in 1946 -- the first featured model in his premier "Album A" – Mizer constructed a fantasy narrative about his models that encouraged a sense of identification between them and his target audience of middle-class gay men. At the same time, he cleaned up the description of his interactions to avoid any hint of illegality. Although Mizer would print on almost every mailing and magazine he produced that he neither took nor sold nude photographs, he took nudes of Millard and of most every subsequent model. A native of New Mexico, Millard was only sixteen at the time Mizer photographed him, though Mizer fudged his date of birth to make him seventeen.

Publicly, Mizer lauded Millard as the ideal model who had control of every muscle due to hours posing before a circle of mirrors. Privately, Mizer complained that Millard was narcissistic to the point of being "completely entranced with his own physical beauty." Vanity had led Millard to quit school and be supported by his mother and a girlfriend. "In the album bulletins I try to be truthful – but naturally I must show jurisprudence in what truth I tell," Mizer wrote a correspondent at the time. "I would doom a model's popularity if I announced he was married with two kids.... Most of my models over 23 are married or are permanently shacking up with their common-law wives."

So the biography Mizer constructed for Millard centered on discipline, Horatio Alger upward mobility, and a hint of homosexual camaraderie. "Laughed at because he was skinny, Forrester rapidly developed a magnificently defined body which became the envy of his former tormentors," Mizer wrote. Mizer replaced mention of his real-life girlfriend with "training companion" John Miller, who had won top honors at a recent AAU contest. They posed for Mizer's first duos, a homoerotic format that set Mizer and other gay physique photographers apart from their mainstream colleagues. Dark-featured Millard and blonde Miller looked like the perfect gay couple. They hoped to open a gym together, Mizer told his clients suggestively. The image of Millard and Miller on a settee with overlapping arms, hands touching, appeared in Strength & Health and became a signature AMG photo. Millard was later called "almost the touchtone for AMG's fame".

To counter the perception of both gay men and bodybuilders as degenerates, Mizer's biographical notes gave his models middle-class respectability, highlighting not only their physical attributes but also their alleged intellectual and professional ambitions. Not only was model Johnny Murphy tops in the "muscle game," but his business courses at Woodbury College were preparing him to become a business executive. "In anything he does, he will not content himself with being just average, he must be the best," Mizer gushed.

From the feedback he received to his many customer questionnaires, Mizer had a keen sense of what his audience liked and the "psychological effect" of his photos. As he told a colleague, "A picture is rarely unpopular if the model looks directly into the lens (and hence seems to be looking at the person observing the picture) as naturally they feel identification with him." Not only in his lighting and posing but also in his editorial content, Mizer made sure that his largely middle-class audience could identify with the models he was offering them, assuring them that they were "from upper-level homes." While seeking to bond models and customers in a circle of mutual camaraderie and respectability – what he called "the few... who demand freedom of expression" – Mizer also used his albums to make a detailed and careful analysis of censorship efforts by people he derided as "philistines," "moralists," and "unaesthetic law enforcement officers. " Mizer had gotten nowhere in his attempts to reason with censorship authorities. He and his fellow Los Angeles area physique photographers petitioned the Post Office to allow the use of the mail for nude photography. Postal authorities responded that they were forced to forbid such mail by local civic organizations and church groups that feared such products would fall into the hands of children. Mizer offered a clever countersuggestion: photographers could send nude photographs care of the local postmaster in every city, where they could then be claimed by the recipient with proper proof of age. His proposal went unheeded.

Mizer had been in business less than a year when he was first arrested, but it was not for sending nudes through the mail. Mindful of postal inspectors, he had sold nudes only to walk-in customers at his studio near downtown Los Angeles-what amounted to just 10 percent of his business. But when one of those customers, thirty six-year-old Mexican-born Texan Pasquel Barron, became embroiled in a Post Office obscenity investigation, he admitted to obtaining nudes from Mizer, and the Post Office quickly forwarded the information to the local district attorney. Mizer was arrested in 1947 for contributing to the delinquency of a minor, James Maynor, one of his first models, a seventeen-year-old. The district attorney uncovered a network of teenage bodybuilders centered on Muscle Beach, many of whom had been brought to Mizer's studio by William Petty, a physical education instructor employed by the city of Santa Monica to organize athletic activities and performances. Petty and another photographer were also arrested.

Unable to afford an attorney, Mizer was convinced by a public defender to plead guilty to the misdemeanor charge he admitted to photographing Maynor in the nude. But in his plea to avoid prison and receive probation, Mizer insisted that he operated a legitimate business. He stipulated that he had consulted with attorneys and obtained signed release statements from his models or their parents. To distinguish his from previous such enterprises that operated underground, Mizer granted the court access to his meticulous records concerning both customers and models. He freely admitted to being a homosexual and to "attend[ing] several meetings of other types of such individuals in Lafayette Park" a possible reference to gay social or fraternal organizations. Friends and neighbors testified to his good conduct and character – they described him as a photographer and artist who never smoked, drank, or got entangled in the law. The district attorney countered that Mizer's business was "pandering only to the tastes of lustful homosexuals." Several of his models, including John Miller, featured in AMG's early advertisements, confessed to engaging in oral sex with Mizer.

In denying his request, the probation officer emphasized that Mizer showed no remorse for his activities and was an admitted homosexual. He labeled his business of photographing teenage boys in the nude "a vicious and deliberate crime." Mizer was sentenced to six months at a work farm in Saugus, California. As with his interrogation by postal inspectors in 1945, the time he spent in Saugus seemed to steel his will. He felt abused by a legal system that was persecuting him for his lack of shame in being gay and operating a business that catered to his fellow homosexuals. He would later caution his readers to remain silent if arrested and never admit to any guilt, lest they find themselves "rail-roaded to prison" like he felt he was. As he wrote to his mother from Saugus, "I feel more strength now than ever before, but this strength, this driving energy, shall be carefully bridled and directed with wisdom.... ambition is everything." Mizer's tone and focus on the forces of censorship turned darker after his 1947 arrest. By 1950 he reported on a "witch hunt" at Muscle Beach, where one Sunday all the photographers were arrested and further photography forbidden. "Los Angeles and California is in a stage of sex hysteria," he warned, with the state legislature passing sex laws "which only stop short of outlawing the double bed." He chastised "those too stupid and prurient-minded" to understand and appreciate the need for nude art. "These same philistines are mischievously at work to undermine other basic rights of the individual," he wrote. He recommended that readers join the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) or the American Sunbathing and Health Association, a nudist organization. "The only successful way to fight these frustrated reactionaries is through national organization." Fighting the forces of censorship through collective action was clearly on Mizer's mind.

Mizer closely followed and reported on the legal struggles of other physique photographers, even though raising such issues threaten to scare away more timid customers. Whenever possible, he noted what he saw as rays of hope, such as a "progressive Federal Judge" in Chicago who ruled in 1947 that photographs of nude males by Al Urban were not obscene. He noted that most magazines and photographers "in the field" had almost always beaten their prosecutions, but "only at damaging expense." These small victories failed to establish a clear national legal precedent, nor did they silence the local churches, parent teacher organizations, and other "moralist groups" behind censorship efforts. Mizer quickly identified the pattern of obscenity prosecution that would continue for the next twenty years: censors won at the local or lower-level courts but then lost on appeal. Physique photographers would have to work together to establish a large war chest to fight the censors and establish a national precedent.

PHYSIQUE PICTORIAL

So when Mizer began publishing Physique Pictorial in 1951, he envisioned it as a collective effort – a catalog of merchandise from a variety of gay photographers and other vendors facing exclusion from mainstream fitness magazines. The first few issues were "advertising booklets," offered to subscribers for free – a "gift" underwritten by participating businesses. Like the mainstream fitness magazines, Mizer figured that photograph sales would more than pay for the magazine, as barbell sales financed mainstream fitness magazines. He wanted to bring gay physique photographers into closer alliance and thereby more effectively fight the forces of censorship. First called Physique Photo News, it would take advertisements from the back of Strength & Health and give them a new, safer, and more prominent home of their own.

Under pressure from postal authorities, mainstream fitness magazines were beginning to refuse ads for undraped nudes. Warning that "queers" had "obtained a particularly vicious hold on our bodybuilding game," Iron Man instituted a policy refusing ads with models wearing anything less than swim trunks and threatened even stricter rules in the future. Strength & Health had faced censorship efforts over a cover image that had been taken in the nude and later retouched with a posing strap. The managing editor of Strength & Health warned Mizer that his advertisement photos were becoming "less athletic and more risqué" and threatened to bar him from the magazine. While Mizer pledged to cooperate, he saw the writing on the wall. "We are anxious to get our own magazine strong enough that in a few years time we can thumb our noses at the physique magazines," he wrote to a trusted adviser.

The first issue represented the combined effort of six physique photography studios, but most of the others soon opted out. "Bruce [Bellas] was so frightened that he decided not to be represented in the next issue," Mizer recalled. To avoid postal inspectors, Bellas preferred to travel from city to city selling his images in person to select clients. Russ Warner also demurred, having already been summoned to Washington for an arduous hearing before postal inspectors over his nude photos with inked-in pouches. "The only people who would want photos of men were gay people," the postal inspectors confided to him, and their threat to "get every one of them" left him skittish. Even Mizer feared repercussions since "it will look dangerously like an organization which might effectively resist the postal distaste for physique work." Postal authorities may not have viewed it as a threat, but such organizational power was clearly at the forefront of Mizer's thinking.

Mizer's efforts at consolidation drew inspiration from the most prominent scholar and writer on the subject of sex in America. Like other early activists for gay rights, Mizer had read Alfred Kinsey's Sexual Behavior in the Human Male and considered it pivotal for his understanding of homosexuality as a naturally and frequently occurring variation of human activity. "Dr. Kinsey's first book was the most important one in my whole life," Mizer wrote to a colleague, "and for it I owe him a debt I could probably never repay. "

As an avid collector of materials to document American sexual culture, Kinsey became a regular Mizer customer, and the two quickly established an active correspondence that lasted nearly until Kinsey's death in 1956. On his many visits to Los Angeles, Kinsey met with Mizer and conducted sexual histories of his fellow physique photographers and models. Mizer even forwarded his frequent customer questionnaires to Kinsey for tabulation, thereby offering him indirect access to his customer base. In return, Kinsey offered strategic advice about how best to combat postal authorities.

Because of his own struggles with postal and customs authorities over shipments of erotic materials to his institute at Indiana University, Kinsey had developed relationships with prestigious law firms specializing in the First Amendment. It was he who suggested that physique publishers could win at the appellate level if they could find a way to sustain and finance their legal cases. "I have suggested before that all of you photographers should band together and employ the very best attorney that you can in the L.A. area to advise you and to handle individual cases," Kinsey wrote to Mizer in 1951, just as Mizer was establishing Physique Pictorial. Kinsey suggested that photographers of female nudes had tried to do this but never succeeded at forming a united group. While Mizer never formally organized his fellow physique photographers, he and his magazine served as a de facto central bureau of information, connecting customers, photographers, and publishers.

Tapping into an underserved gay market, Mizer's business flourished. As Mizer later remembered, "there was not such a thing at the time as a magazine that showed a variety of young, youthful models – not supermen – which is what most people wanted." Through his customer questionnaires, Mizer knew what his clients wanted: less information on weightlifting and exercise and more models. One twenty- two-year-old customer from Winchester, Massachusetts, remarked how Mizer's models were becoming "more youthful, slimmer and more suggestively posed" and encouraged him to be upfront about it – not to "hide all this under the general category of art photography," a common claim of photographers offering undraped nudes. As he wrote to Mizer, "It appears to me that by the constant polls you all seem to be taking so that you may satisfy your customers, you are catering more and more to the homosexual trade." Models, too, knew what Mizer was up to. "I think Bob was, um, interested more in the gay magazines than the bodybuilding ones," remembered model Ben Sorensen. "I'm straight, but that didn't bother me at all. Everybody at the gym knew what they were doing with the photos."

Within a year of establishing AMG, Mizer reported a gross monthly income of $700-annualized, this amounted to nearly three times the average family income of 1947. Mizer had hired his brother as a full-time employee and had nearly $2,000 in savings. His mailing list already contained customers from "practically every country in the world," according to the district attorney who prosecuted his case. "It grew like Topsy – a little bit each time," Mizer remembered.33 He soon began offering a "Nickle Plan," similar to a monthly book club, where customers would regularly receive photographs from each new AMG album. Wishing to respond to the particular desires of his customers, he allowed them to specify what types of models and photographs they preferred not to receive: "models over or under ages, races, slender or very heavy weights, poses with girls, models in clothing or part clothing such as Levis, models in trunks, portraits." Mizer was already engaging in specialization, acknowledging the particular sexual desires, fetishes, and prejudices of his customers.

Although Physique Pictorial could increasingly be found on select newsstands, Mizer's initial sense of it as a catalog of merchandise for subscribers endured. He recalled that although magazine wholesaler Lou Elson began to distribute it in New York after a year or two on the market, newsstand sales did not substantially increase total circulation. "Its circulation was horrible. It was very hard to get. Most newsstands didn't carry it," remembered Chuck Renslow, then a fellow physique photographer in Chicago. Mizer himself called his newsstand circulation "quiet select." Continually struggling to find a newsstand distribution network, he mostly sold Physique Pictorial by subscription. But he was proud of his independence – unwilling to bow and scrape to distributors or advertisers. In addition to working with a few wholesalers, Mizer sent copies himself to select newsstands. "Tell your dealer about this and give him our address," he suggested to readers, trying to get them actively involved in increasing circulation. When Physique Pictorial did manage to appear on newsstands, it sold out almost immediately.

In 1963 AMG tried to diversify and modernize by offering a large format, color magazine called Young Adonis to supplement the black-and-white Physique Pictorial. It was a sell-out wherever it was sold, but again Mizer had trouble getting it on newsstands. The distributor wrote Mizer a two-page letter describing the magazine's "sins." Although Mizer promised future issues would feature new offerings, including a fashion section handled by model Mark Nixon, it was the only issue Mizer offered.

FROM GUILD TO NETWORK

Mizer's choice of the term "guild" to refer to his business started a trend among physique photography studios. Don Whitman founded the Western Photography Guild in Colorado in 1947 and soon had advertisements next to AMG's in the back of Strength & Health. In Metairie, Louisiana, a group of physique photographers and artists launched the Southern Guild. And in Portsmouth, Virginia, George U. Lyon and Charles E. Smith started Underwood Photographic Guild. The word "guild" could refer to any association of people with a common goal but historically referred to a group of craftsmen or merchants who exerted some control over their trade. As an avid reader, Mizer was probably well aware that medieval guilds were famous for regulating entry into a profession and often exerted considerable power in city government. His choice of words suggests his aspirations to unite, protect, and empower those involved in the physique field. It was the same term Harry Hay would use as he began organizing the Mattachine Society as a gay political group across town a few years later.

In keeping with the spirit of a guild, Mizer cooperated with and promoted the work of other photographers. He would share or sell mailing lists to competitors and alert readers when new physique magazines were launched or studios opened. "Physique Pictorial is not a closed enterprise and any legitimate studio can be represented in it," he promised. By 1954 he regularly included a directory of photographers, artists, and models selling merchandise, a custom followed by many later physique magazines. He was happy to note when individual models offered their own photos directly to readers. When he had a disagreement with a physique artist, he let readers know that the artist's work could now be found in a competing magazine. 

As the number of physique studios catering to gay men proliferated, Mizer's magazine functioned like a Better Business Bureau. Mizer barred advertisements from studios who were known to be unreliable, gave bad service, or sold illegal material (although he included photos with "inked" pouches, indicating the original photograph was in the nude.) He threatened to publicly denounce photographers who were territorial and unwelcoming to new talent in their area, and he was quick to publicly reprimand photographers who did not reciprocate his courtesies. Mizer also warned readers of offers from the "get-rich- quick boys" promising special pictures available only to a few "intimate friends." Given the Post Office's vigilance, he knew that studios selling nudes would not last long. "Every mailing list is peppered with postal inspectors and their collaborators," he cautioned. After sending in an exorbitant fee, the customer might receive nothing. He encouraged readers to confess their stories of being victimized by such schemes.40 Envisioning a constantly widening network of producers and consumers, Mizer sought to place himself at its fulcrum. Soon he was offering a host of consumer items – artwork, slides, viewers, and "garments for athletes" including jeans, T-shirts, bathing suits, and the ubiquitous posing straps. Physique Pictorial functioned as a nexus for finding, producing, selling, and admiring male photos. Other studios described AMG as a one-stop shopping experience: "one of the largest photo guilds in the country and supplies about everything a photo collector or bodybuilder wants: movies, garments, thousands of all sizes of photos, color slides, and many other works of art." 

The network grew increasingly international as Mizer featured photographs by Arax of Paris and models wearing trunks from Vince of London. He soon had agents in Belgium, France, Denmark, the United Kingdom, and Japan. By 1962 Mizer sponsored European tours for physique enthusiasts, "to photograph local athletes, and to visit famous clubs of special interest."

Mizer encouraged not only other physique photographers but a new and growing group of physique artists in his magazine. AMG became a generative center that showcased the work of talented young painters and sketch artists who then developed their own followings that often eclipsed Mizer's own popularity. In 1957 he introduced an unknown artist who "depicts the healthy robust youth of the forests of Finland," who would later reach international renown as "Tom of Finland." But it was an artist from Virginia, George Quaintance, who created what Mizer called a "vogue" that was widely imitated.

Quaintance had begun taking photographs and drawing sketches of male nudes under the tutelage of Lon of New York. He had worked drawing bodybuilding champions for the cover of Joe Weider's Your Physique, but it was when he started painting for Bob Mizer's new magazine that his career took off. Set either at a dude ranch in Arizona, where he lived, or at a bath in ancient Greece, Quaintance's paintings created the kind of playful environment of easy male camaraderie that Mizer sought to foster through his magazine. And like Mizer, Quaintance considered his homoerotic artwork to be "a crusade for the rights of the feelings" of his customers. "I too feel that I crusade in my attempt to supply, or satisfy, a deep emotional hunger in the inner lives of my customers," he explained to a homophile leader. Soon his mailing list of ten thousand active buyers around the world surpassed that of Mizer. He offered not only physique paintings but prints, photographs, and sculptures, expanding his business to a four-man operation. "It grew too fast.... I'm trying to adjust myself to all the confusion," he wrote at the time. Those who met him as he toured the country selling his artwork describe a flamboyant artist who loved wearing western gear, turquoise jewelry, and showing off his young Mexican American lover and frequent model, Eduardo.

What distinguished Quaintance's artwork was not just the invitation to view nearly naked men but the excitement of seeing them looking at each other, as Michael Bronski has argued. One of Quaintance's first cover images for Physique Pictorial demonstrates how groundbreaking those gazes were. "Morning in the Desert" featured four ranch hands around an outdoor bath dressing and preparing for work. One naked bather is standing, his genitals covered only by soapsuds. Another naked man lies below him in a tub of water, looking directly up at the other's body. But for the cover of the magazine, to pass postal censors, Quaintance shifted the man's head to the left, so his gaze no longer fell longingly on his fellow naked male bather. Like his better-known successor, Tom of Finland, Quaintance constructed a "network of looks" that included and invited those of the viewer, furthering the sense of homoerotic identification.

Mizer's growing network of photographers, artists, and other physique-related businesses used a language of friendship and camaraderie that further encouraged a sense of community. Seattle physique artist William MacLean set up a studio and invited new and emerging physique artists to market their work through him. This offer featured a photograph of the very handsome artist hanging images in his exhibit space, noting suggestively that he was "a very eligible bachelor" and therefore "his studio is a gathering place for the young social set and many a party is hosted there." London model Clive Jones sold his images directly and promised to handle orders personally. "Clive would like to hear from his many friends in America" and promised to send a catalog of images of himself and his "buddies" in London.

Mizer offered slides of physique models intended to be projected on a wall or screen for group viewing. One of MacLean's more reproduced drawings showed a group of men admiring AMG slides and imitating the poses of the models. When Mizer began making physique film shorts, he called for readers to submit script ideas, giving members yet another way to participate. He offered suggestions on where to buy a good, inexpensive projector and soon began renting the films at a quarter of the price of purchasing one. In words and images, he encouraged readers to share the experience of watching physique films. "Imagine what a hit these films would be at your next party or gathering of friends who are physical culture enthusiasts!" Indeed, much of the allure of participating in this network, whether as a producer or as a consumer, was the sense of community it offered.

Mizer's own rhetoric helped to solidify that sense of community. Boasting that his magazine lacked "mass appeal," he explicitly signaled his targeting of a minority population, what he called "the limited aesthetic group" who appreciated the male body. Mizer was borrowing a gay discourse developed in the late nineteenth century, a period he knew well from his reading of Boris Brasol's biography of Oscar Wilde. As art historian Christopher Reed argues, "The Wilde trials seemed to reveal homosexuality as the secret behind the enigmatic passions of the Aesthetes, tainting the entire movement, all of its products, and even the idea of aesthetic sensitivity." 

Indeed, the modern identities of "the homosexual" and "the artist" – both considered manifestations of innate predispositions – developed nearly simultaneously in the nineteenth century, as both creating art and committing sodomy moved from activities to ways of being. "Artistic" quickly became euphemistic slang for "queer." Painter Paul Cadmus remembered how the association had transferred to the American scene by the 1930s. "The word homosexual was never used," he remembered. "They just said, 'He's an artist." American psychiatrists, too, described men suspected of homosexuality as "aesthetic in temperament." Thus when Mizer adopted this language, praising Quaintance for his "neo-aestheticism" and imagining his audience as "the limited aesthetic group," he was signaling to and helping to construct a distinct gay identity among his readers.

"THE TV SHOW THAT MADE AMERICA GASP!"

Physique Pictorial's increasing circulation came with its own risks. Its presence on Los Angeles newsstands soon caught the attention of Paul Coates, a conservative columnist for the afternoon tabloid the Los Ange- les Mirror, known for exposing what he considered to be the seamier side of life in Southern California – prostitutes, repo men, drug addicts, and shoplifters. In 1954 Coates used his local television program Confidential File on KTTV to alert his audience to the "unpleasant fact" of homosexuality in Los Angeles. It was the first prime-time television program to broach the topic and helped propel Coates's show into national syndication. Coates featured footage of a Mattachine Society meeting with well-dressed men and women drinking coffee and eating cookies. He also gave his audience a glimpse inside a gay bar. But he ended the show by holding up a copy of Physique Pictorial as a shocking example on city newsstands of the publications catering to homosexuals. According to one tabloid, it was "the TV show that made America gasp!" Working closely with the local Parent Teacher Association (PTA), Coates couched his programming as a crusade to warn families of the dangers homosexuals posed to children. He followed up with three newspaper columns devoted exclusively to the presence of gay maga-zines on the city's newsstands. Although concerned about the homophile magazine ONE, which billed itself as "The Homosexual Magazine," he noted that its editors at least made an effort to avoid the lurid. Physique Pictorial, however, was "thinly veiled pornography" that appealed to sex criminals and sadists. Coates claimed that this "Esquire for men who wish they weren't" featured images of men in chains being beaten and stabbed – a sensational reading of Mizer's photographs with swords and chains as props. He highlighted the case of one of Mizer's teenage models from Muscle Beach-an active church member engaged to be married, he noted-who complained of unwanted homosexual solicitations after his photo appeared in Physique Pictorial. There were dozens of such dangerous photographers, Coates warned. "It's big business in our town."

Leveraging his connections to the powerful Chandler media family, Coates orchestrated an all-out assault on Mizer's business. After Coates's columns appeared, a phalanx of local government officials descended on Mizer's business. Police began to intimidate newsstands where his magazine appeared. City regulators inspected his home, and health officials tested his pet monkeys for diseases. The former model featured in Coates's column sued Mizer for invasion of privacy.

Most ominously, the story brought a plainclothes Los Angeles Police Department vice officer to his door asking to buy nudes. Mizer demurred, offering him only his usual catalogs of men in posing straps. Undeterred, Detective Philip Barnes asked who of the many other photographers featured in his magazine might offer nudes. Mizer again demurred, but Barnes had already visited the studio of Lyle Frisby, a young, up-and-coming Mizer protégé whose images Mizer often included in his magazine. More accommodating, Frisby sold him "inked" nude photos, where the posing straps could be easily rubbed off.

Coates proudly covered the sting operation in a subsequent column. To again sensationalize the threat posed to children, he noted ominously that Frisby's Los Angeles studio was located just 250 yards from an elementary school. Both Frisby and Mizer were promptly arrested for possessing and distributing lewd photographs – a violation of the Los Angeles municipal code allowing Coates's newspaper series to end on a note of civic triumph.

Frisby was easily convicted and spent time in prison. The prosecution of Mizer, however, was more complicated, since the focus of the charge was "aiding and abetting" the sale of lewd pictures. Detective Barnes testified that Mizer told him he could obtain nudes from any of his advertisers, but he failed to note this in his initial report. Mizer denied the claim, testifying that he told detective Barnes that nudes were illegal and unavailable in Los Angeles and that he personally advised all photographers not to deal in nudes. Either way, there was little evidence to link Mizer directly with Frisby's nude photos. Seeing the weakness of the "aiding and abetting" argument, the prosecutor argued that Mizer's own photos were obscene because they displayed both "scenes of brutality and torture" and "the uncovered rump." Mizer's lawyer, Herbert Selwyn from the ACLU, argued that Mizer's posing-strap images were no more lewd than those in classical statuary or in movies such as Garden of Eden, a film set in a nudist colony then screening in area theaters. He called it "the first uncovered rump case" in memory.

But as in almost all trials of physique photographers, the real issue was less the explicitness of the photos than the sexual orientation of their audience. Displaying his real concern, the judge told Selwyn, "These are nothing but pin-up pictures for homosexuals." To feed the judge's suspicions, the prosecutor displayed a copy of Confidential mag- azine at trial with the blaring headline "America on Guard! Homosexuals, Inc." Trying to further associate Mizer with the homosexual cause, he concluded his cross-examination by asking, "Do you also publish the magazine known as ONE?" The judge sustained Selwyn's objection but enjoyed a "hearty chuckle." He found Mizer guilty and sentenced him to ninety days in prison.

Mizer appealed his conviction, telling Kinsey he was willing to put a substantial dent in his bank account and solicit help from nudist and other groups. He convinced a British magazine to publicize the case. "It is odd that when I am one of the few physique photographers who does not deal in nudes that I should be picked out as the one who must fight for their legality," he complained to Kinsey, who thought he was singled out because of the size of his business. Mizer was the aggressive entrepreneur who took the physique business from the back pages of fitness magazines to the cover of his own magazine, openly challenging postal inspectors. Predictably, Mizer's conviction was overturned on appeal. "You have done very well to stand up for your legal rights," Kinsey congratulated him. But Mizer, concerned about the effect such news might have on the field of physique photography, did not gloat. "I am keeping news of our victory quiet because I think some of the photographers in our field need a bit of a deterrent to keep them in line."

Mizer and Barnes squared off again a year later, this time in a televised congressional hearing. Mizer and Frisby became fodder for Senator Estes Kefauver's traveling hearings on the alleged problem of juvenile delinquency in America, part of his bid to enhance his presidential aspirations. Kefauver got Benjamin Karpman, the chief psychotherapist at St. Elizabeths Hospital in Washington, D.C., to testify that exposure to pornography at an early age could turn someone gay. Barnes described how he had confiscated pornographic materials from major national distributors Edward Mishkin and Irving Klaw. Some of the material was on display in posters lining the walls of the hearing room.

"Have you had any occasion to investigate cases wherein the use of male models might be used?" Kefauver asked, a delicate way to invoke homosexual erotica. Barnes outlined the case of Frisby and Mizer, pointing out that Mizer happened to be in the audience. Exaggerating the success of his efforts, he claimed he had confiscated $10,000 worth of materials from Frisby, that both men had been convicted of obscenity, and that Mizer's sentence had been overturned only because of a technicality. He highlighted the danger they posed to the public by noting the proximity of the school and the youth of the models.

Kefauver commended Barnes's efforts and noted what a difficult job he had, given how the courts and the legislatures continually failed to provide the tools he needed. Barnes impressed on the committee the need for a national agency to coordinate the efforts of local law enforcement to stamp out pornography. At the conclusion of the hearing, Senator Kefauver offered anyone who had been named the opportunity to correct inaccuracies. Detective Barnes looked squarely at Mizer, egging him on. Mizer contemplated speaking up but, aware of the presence of journalists and television cameras, decided instead to offer a written statement, his preferred form of communication.

In the pages of Physique Pictorial, Mizer denounced the hearings as "the grossest obscenity of public trust" he had ever witnessed. He accused Barnes of perjuring himself in his claims about Mizer's case. Within a year, however, Mizer enjoyed some schadenfreude when he revealed that Barnes was sent to prison for molesting his stepdaughter. He was also delighted to tell readers that Kefauver's chief counsel, James Bobo, was forced to resign after admitting to hosting private screenings of stag films for a Memphis fraternity. It all reinforced Mizer's conviction that the legal system was corrupt and that those who were most obsessed with fighting prurience were hypocrites.

Like many self-appointed guardians of American morality, Coates viewed both the Mattachine Society and the Athletic Model Guild as threats. But the reactions of the two organizations differed markedly. In 1953 Coates gave the Mattachine Society its first negative press coverage by suggesting that it had ties to communism. Coates's accusation caused a crisis in the organization, which led to the resignation of the original founders, many of whom had been members of the Communist Party USA. The organization was restructured and membership fell off. Historian John D'Emilio called it a "retreat to respectability," a turn away from political activism toward internal self-help tactics.

Coates's assault on Mizer was even more aggressive – involving the Los Angeles Police Department, a powerful U.S. senator, and backstage efforts to influence his obscenity trial – yet Mizer changed his operating procedures only slightly. He decided to tone down the "brutality" aspect of his images, eliminating props such as whips or chains. But on the issue of the "uncovered rump," Mizer stood his ground. "Bob has defied them," Kinsey noted of Mizer's refusal to succumb to a Post Office ultimatum barring nudes seen from behind. He also continued his feisty editorials, despite Kinsey's suggestion that he tone them down. "Certain principles I will not back down on," Mizer defiantly told Kinsey. 

Each of Mizer's encounters with law enforcement politicized him, and he, in turn, sought to politicize his readers. To supplement his personal experience, he read widely in popular and scholarly texts on censorship and sought to convey that knowledge to his readers. He noted that those who were opposed to physique magazines were organized into groups such as the National Organization for Decent Literature and had the ear of local and national politicians. He pointed out how local newspapers pressured newsstands and magazine distributors to discontinue all physique magazines. He urged readers to organize. When one reader suggested ignoring the censors, Mizer compared him to the Jews in Germany who "ignored the menace of Hitler."

Putting the issue in the context of human rights, Mizer called for a collective and activist opposition. "The censor is a bully and will back down if we all stand up to him." It was a theme he returned to frequently, asserting that putting one's head in the sand would not make the problem go away. He repeatedly implored customers to join the ACLU. "It's Your America," he reminded readers, and politicians and police were "your servants." He implored readers to write their representatives and local newspapers to defend freedom of expression. Otherwise, he warned, a state-controlled media will emerge that would be the envy of Hitler. According to his alarmist rhetoric, the ACLU was the only thing standing between the status quo and totalitarianism.

Mizer's editorials on censorship even seeped into model descriptions. He described Sonny Star, a lean model lounging by the pool, as being from Fargo, North Dakota, where a federal censorship trial was taking place. He railed against police corruption and governmental injustice so often that readers tired of his many editorials – one counted eight in a thirty-two-page issue and complained of all this "doomsday talk." Many just wanted information on where to purchase forbidden materials.

IRON MAN BETRAYAL

As Physique Pictorial and other physique magazines that emphasized the "aesthetic approach" flourished, they increasingly came into conflict with what Mizer called " 'hard-core' muscle magazines" or "old-school muscle books" that had fallen on hard times. He knew that their harsh critique of new magazines like his had alienated "the great bulk" of their readership. But he still encouraged readers to support these magazines and their veteran writers. "We cannot afford to lose them from the field," he generously noted.60 Mizer had gotten his start through the support of these editors and was not prone to burn bridges.

Mizer had an especially close relationship with Iron Man, founded by weightlifter Peary Rader in Nebraska in 1933. Mizer had contributed enough photographs to be listed as one of Iron Man's "staff photographers" in 1949. Some of Mizer's first catalog advertisements appeared in its back pages, and Rader had even printed the first issue of Physique Pictorial. But under pressure from the Post Office, Rader refused to print subsequent issues. Fearing the loss of his second-class mailing privileges, he then stopped running physique photography advertisements. And in 1956 he published a scathing editorial denouncing the "homosexual element" that had infiltrated bodybuilding and ruined its reputation. He called for a comprehensive "crusade" to clean up the sport, including a ban on nude or G-string photographs, fewer body-building contests, and more manly poses. He attributed the immorality that had seeped into bodybuilding to increasing "commercialism," emphasizing that his concerns were not only moral but also financial. Mizer felt sorry for Iron Man. "I doubt if many copies would be sold to those solely interested in the weightlifting results."

This attack from his former supporter and printer caused Mizer to pen his first editorial on "Homosexuality and Bodybuilding." Claiming to have less familiarity with the subject than the editors of Iron Man and others who seemed so preoccupied with it, Mizer first resorted to a version of the schoolyard taunt, "It takes one to know one." He did so by quoting one of the most famous closeted homosexuals in 1950s America. A London reporter had recently asked Liberace in the midst of a legal struggle with a tabloid that had outed him "Is your sex life normal?" Fully composed, Liberace hastily replied, "Yes, is yours?"

In many ways, Liberace and Mizer were in parallel situations. Both offered the public fairly open representations of gay life, but without the label. But because of their popularity, they had caught the attention of the media and were being tarred with the sin of homosexuality. But Mizer went beyond Liberace's taunt to frame the question in terms of civil rights. "We wonder if really good people show prejudice against any minority group," he wrote, comparing such prejudice to that against a particular religion, race, or political party. This effectively made Peary Rader the one guilty of immorality and repositioned the debate on homosexuality within the realm of minority rights. Most important, he referred readers to the homophile groups Mattachine Society and ONE for more factual information.

Mizer's mailbox must have been full after this unusually frank editorial. He noted that readers clamored for him to reprint letters, demonstrating their desire to connect to each other, to see who else was out there reading Physique Pictorial. Mizer printed only four responses. One called Mizer "naïve" for not realizing that all bodybuilders are in some way homosexual, since they are so obsessed with the male body. Another expressed the opposite view, that such "he-men" could not possibly be sissies. But the most unusual letter came from the mother of four male bodybuilders-three of them married with children, the youngest openly gay. She described his difficult coming-out process, psychiatric consultations, and much anguish. But she then painted the picture of a happy, healthy gay domesticity. "John lives with another young man who shares his interests, both are highly successful in films, are 'accepted' everywhere." She thanked Mizer for his sympathetic attitude.

Mizer could not print any letters from openly gay readers for fear of confirming the concerns of censors. But he gave readers clues that he received many such letters. He noted that many had written in anonymously to "unburden [their] frustrations" and "project [their] own motives to us." Although such personal, confessional letters could not be shared, Mizer assured readers that he would send them to a "psychological research group for study," a probable reference to the Kinsey Institute. While Mizer had to be cautious about the content of his magazine to appease censors, his readers were often more explicit. Mizer considered many of the letters he received to be so salacious or incriminating that he did not want to keep them in his home in the event of a "purge" by authorities.

Art historians have documented the lasting impact that Bob Mizer's physique photography had on Western visual culture, influencing the work of such artists as Francis Bacon, Robert Mapplethorpe, and Andy Warhol. British painter David Hockney famously said, "I came to Los Angeles for two reasons: The first was a photo by Julius Shulman of Case Study House #21, and the other was AMG's Physique Pictorial." Dozens of high-end coffee table books attest to the lasting appeal of the artistic vision of Bob Mizer and his fellow gay physique photographers. But Mizer's business model was as generative as his photography. His business acted as a key catalyst for a gay consumer culture network, encouraging and popularizing many other gay mail-order businesses.

Although often portrayed as something of a bumbling loner, Mizer was at the center of an increasingly sophisticated gay network and came to be a leader of an effort to unite and defend the rights of gay men. It was a dream shared with early gay activist Manuel boy Frank, who, through his involvement in an early underground gay pen-pal club, had seen the potential power in gay men's interest in physique photography. Mizer, too, had an early sense of the depth of a gay market, through his work with Kovert's studio and his classified advertising in Strength & Health. He also had a great sense of the dangers involved. Each time Mizer had come under attack, he had come back more determined and open about his intentions. Neither the Post Office, nor the local vice police, nor vigilante journalists, nor mainstream muscle magazines deterred him. Over the course of his career he tried various tactics: reasoning with authorities, cautioning his fellow photographers, fanning the flames of outrage, and encouraging collective action. He had been on a crusade since high school to stand up and make the world a better place for his fellow homosexualists, and Physique Pictorial was his vehicle.

Mizer saw Alfred Kinsey as a hero and collaborator in this crusade because he saw Kinsey's scientific work as a vehicle for increasing tolerance. "One of the greatest values of your present work will be to allow at least the ones who read it to realize they are not uniquely perverse because of either their overt or desired behavior," he wrote to Kinsey. "Many a man will be able to hold his head a little higher and square back his shoulders and know he is not disgustingly 'abnormal' merely because he is gifted with more healthy, vital sex powers than his sanctimonious moral condemner." But what Mizer wrote so admiringly of Kinsey also applied to his own life's work. Mizer took inspiration from his academic friend and advisor, offering the same message of healthy normality in a more visually accessible format, reaching a much wider audience. He provided images to substantiate Kinsey's scientific treatise.

Like his mentor, Mizer was something of a workaholic, shooting still or moving film nearly every day of his life. But his ambitions were not monetary. Although by the end of his life he had expanded his home-studio property in Los Angeles to include several adjoining homes and a pool, it was never lavish. It became a sort of dormitory or homeless shelter for wayward models. Friends remember him in later years wearing glasses held together with tape and string. After his death in 1992, friends found hundreds of thousands of dollars in cash stuffed in film cans-proceeds never invested, or given much thought. Mizer's ambitions had not changed from the time he was in high school. He took pride in knowing his readers considered the arrival of his magazine like "a visit from an old friend." And since that old friend "always brings new friends with him," he hoped it offered his readers the sense that they were part of a large, welcoming community similar to the one he had discovered in Pershing Square. As he told his readers, he hoped all who read his magazine carefully – who "take the trouble to study" it – would take away a message of "hope and inspiration."

Hope was the message that Noel Gillespie found in Physique Pictorial when he discovered it as a teenager. He remembered it as "a gay-oriented oasis" in a Cold War desert of prudery and macho conformity. He considered Mizer less a salesman than "an old friend and confidante" because of all his "chatty remarks" among the model images. Gillespie praised Mizer's editorials on the "anti-nudity, anti-gay, anti-free speech attitudes" of the period. He recalls how he eagerly antici- pated each new issue for both Mizer's "latest fresh-faced discoveries and his candid and for the period, courageous commentaries." Beyond this special bond with Mizer, he also felt linked to his fellow subscribers through their occasional letters to the editor, which he thought made Physique Pictorial "more a friendly resource than a mere sales catalogue."

Hope was exactly the message that a young David Hurles understood when he encountered Physique Pictorial on newsstands in Cincinnati in 1957. "I came face to face with the awesome and wonderful knowledge of a place somewhere different from any place I yet knew," Hurles later wrote. He remembered following Mizer's exploits closely, noticing when he put in a swimming pool in 1956. "His pictures, magazines and films turned us on. But more than that, they gave us hope," Hurles eulogized at the time of Mizer's death in 1992. Hurles later became a Mizer protégé and went on to produce his own magazine. "Bob revealed the evidence which made us certain that what we desired and needed did, in fact, exist."

-- from David K. Johnson's Buying Gay.

[livewireprojects]

Old Lou & June stuff

I was told to put this in another post since it's long & the original post is meant to just be a ref

Link to original post

Once again want to mention everyone(except like 3 pics) are drawn with everyone as humans instead of puppet people & I forgot why.

So here’s the old refs for them, for some reason I drew Muppet characters in human/gijinka form most of the time. Dunno why I think part of it was not being sure how well I could do Muppet style all the time.

I don’t remember what Juniper’s coloring was but old Lou was a copy of Lips but eyes covered, freckles & no facial hair. Now they look more like mixes of their parents, June is green cause she’s a mix of her parents’ colors(the lip color is lipstick) June has a very slightly thinner version of Lips’s nose & ignoring the eyes Lou got Zoot’s face/chin, he’s a little more yellow than June but still different than in the past.

It’s kind of interesting how they changed from Juniper & Lou to June & that estranged murderous brother she doesn’t want to be near & for some reason blames past relatives deaths on despite him being too young(or not even being born) to be the cause.

��So this is Juniper, Zoot & Lip’s adult daughter. She works in IT & her brother & dad will embarrass her later by mistaking her fiance saying "I do” for a rejection" -From the description of the Juniper ref

So here's the only time I drew Juniper/old June in Muppet form. I've forgotten at this point what led to her design.(Vincent told he what to draw & what to do for this but it's a blur & possibly on Skype which I don't use anymore) This version's hair later went into the design of Vincent's version of Zoot's mom, Sarah.(Link1)(Link2)

The writing in the bottom left corner came from thinking I messed up her hair a little. As you can probably see & if you read some of the text Juniper & June are pretty different. Juniper was a stylish IT worker that was annoyed by her family’s craziness & the fact they wasted her college fund. June is an introvert editor/assistant for a fashion magazine that doesn’t really put effort into her looks due to being busy with work & cares about her family despite how they are. She still would likely pull a Juniper if her family possibly embarrassed her in front of her partner if she had one.

Here's a redraw of an old image I made involving an old image of younger Juniper & Lou along side a redraw were this time it's current June & Lou.

Some interesting things to know is that for some reason I drew all Muppet characters in gijinka form because I wasn't sure about drawing their muppet forms. As you can see with recent pics I can do muppet style now.

Another thing is that besides mentioning Lou use to be nicer in the past he was also the older sibling in the old stuff. Juniper/June is the older one now.

Link to a colored version I reblogged(for just in case) from Vincent that was colored by another friend of our's

Here's some old pictures of old ver Lou, first one is just him in an ironic shirt & the only time I semi could get his body type right.(I had trouble working on different body types when I was younger, Lou is meant to be chubby but this is likely not good enough) The second picture is just Lou in a dress just cause. It's kind of funny that his shirt says humble, original Lou use to be a relaxed & friendly airheaded guy that loves his family even if they're all crazy(him included) however Lou is a scam artist. Lou's main source of money is selling rocks, minerals, crystals & fake gems while making people(mostly hippies & spiritual people) think these are good crystals & spiritual items or some shit. Janice was his first victim, not because he sold shit to her but he took her crystals. I don't remember what happened I think he was throwing them as skipping rocks or something & learned he could sell these to people when someone asked to buy them from him.

Current/present ver Lou is a guy that has hurt his family, killed animals & now is with a guy(Who as a joke looks like Jim Henson) just as bad if not worse than him with multiple kids. Lou is married to a serial killer cult leader whose first victims were his grandpa(original creator of the cult) & his dad(grandpa's right-hand man) but to be fair they had it coming cause they led to how Sage is now.

One of his kids is Chrysanthemum or Chrys(is the oldest daughter) in past pics who eventually ran away from the cult & go a job helping people that use to be in cults de-learn their cult shit & have normal lives

I don't remember what the context for this was I think I was watching videos of weird moments on Family Feud or something & drew this.

For some reason it's Zoot & Lips(I have no idea why I drew him like this) with their adult kids on a game show with the original version of Clover as the host. Juniper is mad her family is a bunch of idiots(she's suppose to be the family member with common sense) because the winning question was "say the word what" but some how they don't know the answer. Clover wishes to use an airhorn on them to end this show since they've been like this for a little.

Last set of pics I have, this is a compilation of old digital sketches that were part of other sketch dumps. The one in the top left corner was shown already due to being used as context.

Yes these are full sized, I don't know why I drew shit so small in the past.

Top:

Old ver Lou as a kid holding baby Juniper(he grew his hair out a little when he was older which is why they're not covered)

Lou again

Juniper pissed, I think it has to do with her family again

Bottom:

Old ver Lou with eyes uncovered

Zoot & Lips, still don't know why I drew them like this

[misc-obeyme]

hihi I'm back again, and here to ask who in the cast you think has the skill to do hair/up do's?

I'm 5'9, but my hair is now down to my mid thigh, and like around three feet long ?? I haven't chopped it since 2018, only trimmed it. Yet I only know how to do a simple braid, my hair basically lives in a low ponytail lol (though my mom will still do my hair if I ask her for help, which I'm grateful for)

anyway I got to read vol 2 of the manga and I remembered that the artist drew their interpretation of Lilith. So, it made me wonder if Beel or Belphie would know how to do hair, since they were the closest to her, and if she ever asked them for help?

I think Levi would be able to follow any tutorial, or figure out how to do something by trial and error since he cosplays (I bet he made his ruri-chan wig himself). I'd love to show him a picture of the heroine from whatever anime I'm watching and ask if he could help me recreate their style

Asmo we've seen in the dame cards, he's done some cute hairstyles!! I bet I could go to him if I had a fancy event.

I still think about Mammon's dame card... The chokehold it has on me is wild. We saw him do his own make-up in the art, and I think it was said he made his own outfit. So he's a maybe I could go to him? Or he'd put a lot of effort into learning because he knows it'd make me happy lolol

Barbatos also looks really pretty in the dame card !! I haven't read that devilgram, so idk if he did it himself, but what can't he do? I know in TTWF devilgram he literally makes MC's outfit and it made me SWOON

my last thought is if you can just do stuff with magic instead. Does it drain your energy to keep the style, or is it a one and done kinda spell, and don't gotta worry about it? Could a really powerful sorcerer change their hair color, and never have to worry about it fading? That'd be really cool, since I need to re dye the streaks in my hair. That would save lots of money LOL

okay I'm done 😅 time to wait ten billion years for my hair to dry now and try drawing (aiming for every other day to create something new to get better!!)

- ✨ anon

HOW do you handle having hair that long?!?

I'm 5'7" and I used to have my hair down to my low back. It was during the pandemic when I couldn't exactly go get it cut, so I just let it grow lol. And it grows dang fast, but I don't think I've ever had it past the low back area??? Do you accidentally sit on it sometimes? Or is it usually okay because you have it tied back?

All I know is I was so relieved to chop it all off lol! It's super short now, which is how I like it. It takes me ten minutes to wash and style it. I just don't have the patience to maintain it when it's long. And it's naturally curly, so having it short also means I can just let it curl and not worry about it. Ah but I am pretty envious because I always wanted to be able to have one of those really long, thick braids...

Anyway, getting off topic here, back to the question! I do think magic can be used to alter hair! I think sometimes you can get stuff that's temporary (I do believe there was a daily chat about this where Asmo put some kind of potion or something on Lucifer and Mammon?), but I would be surprised if there wasn't some kind of magic spell to permanently keep your hair whatever color you want. I think it's probably just a one and done situation so you wouldn't have to maintain it. Or at least, they'd want to develop something like that because otherwise it wouldn't be worth it right?

As for the characters, I agree with your assessments! I do think in a general sense, they'd all try their best to do your hair if you needed them to.

But as for who would already be capable without having to learn first, I think Asmo is a top contender. Barb can absolutely do anything and I don't doubt that styling hair is something a good butler should know.

I think Levi is another good option for the same reasons you said! I think he probably does have some skill at wig styling! And due to his ability to do costuming in general, I kinda think he'd be able to do a good job on real hair as well if he wanted to.

I love the idea of Beel and Belphie being good at it because of Lilith. Like I'm imagining they only know some really basic styles that were her favorites, but they're happy to do them for you any time. Maybe they get a little misty eyed while doing it because it reminds them of her so much. Awww...

I actually think Lucifer would do a good job, too, but expect to be sitting around for hours because he's gonna make sure no hair is out of place. Only perfection will suffice.

I think Mammon probably mastered whatever style he needed for his dame outfit, but I do think he would learn for you if you wanted him to.

Satan probably already learned from a book or maybe just from watching Asmo doing his hair. But I could see him wanting to do really elaborate styles or maybe using magic to style your hair.

I think Solomon would also be someone you could try, but he would absolutely use magic. I think if you really wanted him to, he would know how to do simple styles by hand. I could see him being really happy to carefully braid your hair by hand. But he wouldn't be able to resist a little bit of magic, maybe to give it an extra sparkle or a streak of color~ I think he'd develop all kinds of hair styling magic if you wanted him to lol.

Diavolo strikes me as willing but perhaps not the best at this particular thing... he doesn't exactly have experience with his own hair.

And I'm not sure about Simeon. I feel like he's pretty competent (except for technology obviously), so he would probably be able to learn how to do it fairly easily. But I don't know if he'd already have some knowledge. Same with Raphael. Though I love the idea of both of them like... doing the hair of little angels~

Mephisto would know about a bunch of fancy Devildom styles, but would he be able to do them? I think you might end up with your hair braided like a horse's mane instead.

Thirteen would know how to do everything. She's got her own long hair and there's no way that she hasn't experimented with it over the years! I love the idea of her doing your hair and her own hair in the same style so you match.

Anyway, I hope you have been able to get some drawing done! Every other day is an excellent goal! I'm rooting for you!!

[chiocchi]

Chiocchi!

Big fan of your artistry. I love your art so much! And those graphic novels you have on ao3??? Heaven sent! I use them as an imagery reference if I read any similar trope haha!

I asked the same question to leafiloaf since I love them too, but I'll be very interested to know your artistic journey if you don't mind sharing. How did you start with your art?

Tysm for being in this fandom ❤️

youknowmevj! omg thank you so much! You're too kind 😭🥺❤️❤️❤️ And yess lots of love to leafiloaf

Thanks for the ask! I've never told anyone about it and I'm so excited I'll give you so much unnecessary context. Oops long post.

My artistic journey

I've enjoyed drawing since I was little, but mostly I just drew doodles in my notebook. Anime was a big inspiration for my style and I wanted to create digital illustrations too. When I was a teenager, I tried using a mouse and a PC, and my finger and some app on my phone, but the results were always terrible. I told myself it was because I didn't have a drawing tablet, so "of course my drawings will look ugly" and stopped trying.

However, I promised a discord friend that I would do a drawing for her in December 2020. So, I downloaded this app called "Ibis Paint" on my phone and, with all my effort despite my lack of ability, I drew Harry using the app and my finger jskldhfsa

I was so hesitant and nervous about showing it to her. I could tell it wasn't pretty, just "weird and awkward", and I felt embarrassed. But she told me it was good (LIES) and somehow convinced me to share it with others on the server. Despite feeling shy, I shared it anyway. To my surprise, three people told me it was pretty! I appreciated their kindness.

It wasn't until March 2021 that I returned to drawing digitally and on a more consistent basis. I was mainly doing fanart for a game that I liked.

In May or June (I can't remember exactly), I stumbled upon an artist who created incredible art using Ibis Paint. And I realized that I didn't need a drawing tablet, just more practice and skill, because if they could do it, then I could do it too! That was the moment I began taking art more seriously (still as a hobby, though!).

Due to the pandemic, I had a lot of free time, which I used to watch a lot of tutorials, practice gesture and follow the advice of artists I liked. With every drawing I made, I could see an improvement, which motivated me even more to keep on working hard (drawing became a source of comfort during those depressing times. It was just really fun).

In late 2021, I mentioned to a childhood friend that I wanted to buy a drawing tablet, and he asked me if I wanted his old one, which I excitedly accepted. Finally, I had the tool that would make my art incredible… or so I thought! I was terrible with it. For the first few months, I preferred Ibis paint and my finger. But I eventually got the hang of it! What I love the most are the multiple brushes and pressure settings. I'm such a hoarder, even if I don't use all of them ksklajdl.

In 2022, I participated in several bigbangs and zines, but what I'm most excited to talk about is the tomarry comic that I started.

My tomarrymort art

I've read tomarrymort fics since 2017, but I wasn't active on the fandom. In 2020, I joined a writer's server (all love to Amanda) and met the friend I mentioned earlier. So technically, you could say my love for tomarrymort lead me here kek

Even though my main inspiration was a game, here is some fic fanart I made.

This is my first tomarry art (July 27th, 2021). It's a scene from Genius by the Numbers. I think it looks weird kjdshk

I also made art for A Mating of Convenience, what started in beautiful rooms, Dripping Fingers and for Ale, beloved. (I think I've never posted these before.)

Then two things happened: I saw comic on ao3 (If I'll Ever See You by festivewind) and I was like "WOW! THAT'S SO COOL" and "omg we can upload comics!"

The second thing was me being rejected as a webtoon background artist (naturally, as I wasn't good enough for the specifics) and the spite made me want to do my own so I could improve my weakness (the grind never stops 💪🔥).

I read some of my old notes for story ideas (I'm not good at writing but I still had some snippets of stories). And boom! Love triangle but the 3 of them are idiots (affectionate). Fun fact: the original version had a murder, someone in Azkaban and someone hating the other forever :D

Don't pretend started as an anonymous work because some of my friends knew my AO3 username and I was afraid of screwing up the format (I don't know html) and looking like a fool DKJALKSJL I was also afraid of possible backlash (I'm an over-thinker).

None of that happened (comments were very kind and nice!) But idk, it was nice being anon. I'm awkward and shy and I usually don't know what to say to compliments (Sometimes a "thank you" doesn't feel enough but that's all my brain can offer 😭)

Then I made some tomarry christmas art and shared it on TRoR discord server and someone asked me if I had Tumblr and I said no but that gave me the idea of making one.

Since I planned Don't pretend as being a long story, I realized it'd take me a long time to finish it and I wanted to contribute to the complete tomarrymort works! That's the reason I took a pause and made A Soulmate Like You.

Anyway, I made this tumblr on January 2023, and the plan was to fill it with art so, eventually, when I found the courage to make my works non-anon, I could link to this page. Except that I posted one drawing, and that was enough for isalisewrites to know it was me HJKASDJLA. So I stopped the anonymous thing.

I'm still not used to being "perceived" 👁️👁️ but I've learned it's not bad. People have been really kind and I think I'm less shy now! I'm very happy to be part of this fandom with lots of kind and supportive people and incredible fics and fanart <3

[microwavedautism]

I am going to rant about my two Hazbin Ocs because my brain wants to think about them tonight and I don't want to get my information fucked up

So. We have Captain Widow, known by her friends as Amelia. This is her casual look, she dresses like a pirate otherwise. She, unlike most other sinners her age, isn't against embracing the modern.

She was born in 1596 and died 1643. She doesn't remember her place of birth, but it was somewhere around England. She was married at 15, but ended up killing him and running away after three years of putting up with him.

She ended up in a pirate crew a few years later, and eventually took over the ship once the previous captain died.

Don't misunderstand her, she is a very sadistic woman, but she tries to pick her targets carefully. When she was on land she'd go around killing off abusive husbands and the like. Occasionally she'd bring the wife onto her crew.

Her crew was almost entirely women, sides from the two queer teenage boys she'd picked up.

She ended up drowning, turns out she wasn't too experienced at swimming with a broken leg!

In Hell, she looked pretty much the same as she did alive, but with six more eyes then she was used to, two more arms and fins for ears.

She now is an overlord who runs several fighting rings and gyms around the city. All of the souls under contract with her are sinners she personally tracked down, kidnapped and tortured them into giving their soul to her. Her contracts are things like "You give me your soul and in turn I will no longer harm you."

Those sinners are now training dummies or punching bags for her establishments! Afterall, it's not HER harming them, it's everyone else!

--

Now we have Gaspard, 'the artist'. A french painter from the 1400s. It's been quite a while, the only thing he remembers is the century, not the day he was born or the day he died, or even how! He was 37 when he died, he remembers that at least!

He looks more human than most sinners, aside from the fact he is completely greyscale. His body is like a messy 3d sketch, the lines are always changing slightly when he moves, like someones animating him but can't quite keep the lines the same.

When he was alive, not many people knew him. He made an effort to keep to himself, unless he was looking for a new muse or restocking his supplies.

He'd stay locked up in his apartment, spending hours and hours working on his latest piece. He'd done sculpting, he'd done drawing, he'd done everything. But painting was always his favourite. He enjoyed how the colours mixed, especially with the subjects he drew.

See, he would stay out, looking for people who caught his attention. When he found someone, he'd bring them to his apartment, willingly or not, and pose them. Sometimes they lived for a while whilst being posed, most of the time not.

He'd paint the most beautiful of women on their knees... with their hands up above their head and their guts spilling out.

He would paint handsome men, with nothing but their hearts remaining.

He even painted children! Though that was only once.. getting references for how skipping with intestines worked was quite difficult.

Needless to say, he was a horrific serial killer with a fucked up sense of beauty.

He continued his art in the afterlife, only this time. He had plenty of models to choose from!

It's surprisingly easy to get peoples souls, so long as you have a way to protect them from extermination!

And if that 'protection' just so happens to be eternal imprisonment in a canvas well... thats not his fault, they should've been more clear with what they meant, protection is such a loose term really.

After all, what angel is going to attack a painting?

[katyahina]

Quick Caryll headcanons update!

Alright, a few months ago I've made a post where I doodled all Byrgenwerth scholars I could possibly think of, but I've decided to change my ideas a bit in the end! Basically, I turned one character into two! So here is the changed post with the full cast and quick rundown: ( x )

More detail on why the change under cut though!

Long ago, when I just gotten into Bloodborne, my first vision of the character Caryll was of a red haired man who also was an artist. Even in one of those stereotypical berets, all that. Then I learned Caryll was ungendered name, so I opened up to potential of female character instead (really love to have more of those). And it was also around that time when I figured the potential of Caryll as the inspiration for the statue with a stitch on her forehead we see just behind Memory Altar - as well as Witch of Hemwick! We find Runes Workshop tool on a tied up corpse in Hemwick that appears to have bled and surrounded by many paper sheets, that made me think of experimenting on him to find out how many runes can human brain memorize at once before it explodes. Turns out only four, and that's my justification for in lore how everyone knows to not hold more than four in mind at once.

So for a while she was one of the witches and sole person responcible for runes - both having deciphered language of Great Ones, and then having brain surgery to 'speed up' process of receiving inhuman information! That dramatically shortened her lifespan and thus Old Hunters (and Church's prospectors too) revered her as a great help for their grave robbing- errr, exploration of the Chalice Dungeons! Hence why same statues are in the dungeons too.

Later though I found out that in Japanese original, character Caryll has legitimately masculine name - Karel, variant of Charles. ( x ) I myself use japanese script a lot but it never occured to me to check kanji of names so that was... a late discovery. Now I check names and titles too and it only was useful (especially with proper name of Kos thing). That didn't sit very well with that super female figure martyr mother teresa something vibe of the statue I copied Caryll from, nor with witch idea... Yet it still made a lot of sense to connect Hemwick stuff to it.

So I was lost on what to do, and then I remembered the very old instant impression of the redhead artist man and... It finally made sense to me! So I guess I just... knew something before I KNEW it?

So yeah, now Runes are joint effort of two people! :) Caryll is an artist from Cainhurst that also drew all those portraits, and had enough archiological education and talent to figure out an alphabet of Great Ones that even others could be taught to envision their own personal runes (ie Ludwig and Adeline). He saw very big potential in it as such language is exempt of the flaws of human languages and errors in verbal communication! People could even communicate their OWN thoughts and feelings to someone else without misunderstandings or language barriers - like how League's rune allows Valtr to let others see HIS understanding of what evil is and who has it. He also was slightly biased because he was hardly eloquent at all, and only felt like he could express himself in visual art. x)

Meanwhile, the witch was more of the "inventor" person that found a way to utilize Runes and created tools and means for exchanging them very effectively between people, without any divine Insight by brain fluid needed! Possibly worked on combining runes with ancient bells to basically create Arcane version of cellphones x) By getting literal eyes in her brain, she was able to receive significant amount of information that Caryll was able to perceive and write down too! Within lore, being close to a person who is seeing a Rune could make you see it too. Since it killed the witch quick, she was honored as martyr in the workshop for her sacrifice for the progress.

I now call her Carolee, but funny enough? Runesmith is mistranslation as well, because in the original it is 'Transcriptor Karel'. So basically Caryll is, indeed, transcriptor, meanwhile Carolee is, indeed, runeSMITH. Because tools and stuff. Had it not been too hard to bounce between general english speaking fandom and people who dwell on Japanese original as much as I do, I'd just call them Caryll and Karel instead! But yeah although similar names situation happens (like Adella and Adeline), that'd just be too confusing, so I gave her just a name that is variant of Caryll (and not variant of Karel!) similar enough, to still have connection to her previous version!

SO yeah, thanks anyone who read this short story! xD It just feels right for me, besides I feel like it'd be just bad to waste that redhead artist who came to me like a muse over a translation mistake... Like, sorry guy, you can't exist because I didn't bother to check the names extra time? It is like he saught me to let him exist, and I want him to have this chance! :) Just personal creator's intuition bias, don't mind me.

[fletchervanhall]

Lessons & Reflections | Solo Para

Featuring: Fletcher Van Hall w/ mentions of Aera Jin & Drew Van Hall (and crew members of The Ink Tank Location: The Ink Tank; San Francisco, CA Notes/Triggers: Brief mention/allusion to miscarriage

Fletcher sat in his office at The Ink Tank, double-checking the month's inventory order submitted by one of his receptionists, Tanya. It was their routine to handle the shop's inventory together with her doing the initial form and Fletcher verifying and submitting it. He'd only had one more appointment that day--a nipple piercing--and then his appointments were done for the day. After that, he would make a trip to the gym for just half an hour and then go home to shower and make dinner for Drew, Aera and himself.

Since learning of Aera's pregnancy, Fletcher made small adjustments. The first being that he'd moved the mini fridge out of his office and upstairs at his and his uncle's home to his bedroom. He carried out the appointments he'd already had booked prior to going to Hawaii, but made the conscious effort to lighten his load in case he needed to cancel or reschedule in the event of an emergency. It also ended up being more of a growth opportunity for the shop's other receptionist, Preston, who was also apprenticing as an artist.

Fletcher also moved his pet chinchilla, Dumbo to his office permanently, rather than having him stay only part time at the shop. While Fletcher considered himself diligent with keeping Dumbo's cage clean, he didn't know what sort of smells Aera would be sensitive to and decided not to exacerbate her feeling ill further. The decision also came from him trying to do some reading online, and then ultimately ordering a couple of books for him to read when he had down time in his office.

The books, along with private conversations he'd had with his uncle had been helping him greatly, even though he was trying to keep Aera's words in mind of not getting his hopes up. It was a tougher thing to agree to, the more time went on. He knew she had been through this before and doubted that it made it any easier for her to experience. But all of this was new for him. Not only was the prospect of fatherhood new for him, but going day in and day out with the forewarning that fatherhood wasn't likely to actually happen had been a foreign pill to swallow.

He'd spent a great deal of time thinking about this, and talking about it with no one other than his uncle and to a far lesser extent, to Aera. He didn't need to worry or stress her out when she was already having a difficult enough time with the pregnancy as it was. She was the one who had been through this, experienced the loss and carried on somehow. She was the one enduring all of the nausea, vomiting, fatigue, food aversion, weight loss and so-on, on top of the fear of a recurring loss. His uncertainty on how to feel and how best to approach wasn't her burden to bear.

Fletcher wasn't great at writing. He knew it and his uncle knew it but it didn't stop the older man from suggesting that he write his thoughts down--journal them privately, and be completely candid. So after confirming the inventory, submitting the order for the shop and filing it away, he went into one of his locked desk drawers and pulled out a small, thin notebook. Some of the used pages in it were slightly crinkled and would curl upon opening from his heavy-handed past writings, but he flipped to a blank page, scribbled the date in the corner like always, and began writing.

"It feels selfish as fuck but I wanna have this baby with Aera. I love her. It scares the shit out of me to think about us losing the bug. Which is nuts considering fatherhood wasn't even on my mind until I saw that pregnancy test on the bathroom counter. It's not that I don't want to be a dad (I know, I'm repeating myself now because I've said this before in this thing) but Jesus I'm 40 now. I had old parents and I don't want to be anything like them, unable to really be there for my kid because I'm too worn down or too tired or I think they're too much just because they're young and I start trying to force them to be old as shit instead of what they are. A goddamn kid. It's bullshit. It made for a bullshit childhood and I wouldn't want that for any kid of mine. So I'd hope like hell I'd never be that way towards any kid of mine.

I just didn't think being a parent would ever happen because it hadn't yet. But there's a real chance now and to have that taken away from the both of us? It'd be the sickest, most twisted kind of shit. I know it matters more that Aera's ok. I really do know that. But I feel like losing this baby would wreck us both. And fuck if she wouldn't be the best mom. She's kind, caring, so damn talented and I know she'd spoil the shit out of our kid without letting them grow up to be a brat.

I love her and I don't say 'I love you' to many people. But I love her. There's not much I wouldn't do for her and if I could, I'd guarantee her that our baby, our bug's gonna make it. But I can't and that pisses me off that I can't do that. I can't do anything to guarantee that for her or me. I'm trying with everything I've got though to be there as much as I can for both of them. And when I know she's really asleep, I talk a little to the bug. It's nothing deep or anything. I just let em know that we're here, we love them and we want to meet them someday. That's it. I think saying a little helps me not sound too much into it like Aera suggested. But I know deep down that it's too late for that. For me anyway.

Fuck."

Fletcher closed the notebook with a snap and tossed it back into the drawer with a sigh. He had no idea what the wait was like. He tried not to have all of his Aera's conversations be around the pregnancy and their baby, and he'd asked his uncle to do the same while the two were home together. But even with the books and journaling and talking, there was still more for him to learn that only time could teach him.

After locking the drawer back up and getting his desk in order, Fletcher got up from the office to go out into the shop's parlor space. One of his artist's tattoo guns was buzzing away, cutting through the shop's overhead speakers of heavy rock music playing. Fletcher drew in a deep breath, schooled his face and began his rounds to the stations with his crew none-the-wiser to his personal goings on.

[janetkwallace]

Top 6 Favorite FF9 Fanart I Made

You know what? I never did a Top X stuff before. So, today, here's a list of my personally favorite artworks, and the reasons I like them. Not that I enjoy all my stuff with all my heart, they all have a special place in my heart♥

Alright, let's begin.

Number 6: Darkness Has Reached Its End

Beautiful. The negative space in this one reminds me of those Baroque paintings with their light/darkness contrast. There's something mysterious in Freya's looks while the red armor takes over her whole body, like the scales of a dragon. It does look like an oil painting, but keep in mind that it was drew and painted on bond sheet paper and digitized on a printer. Just so you know anyone can be an artist.

Number 5: 'Let Fear Propel You Forward'

Sir Fratley is my favorite Final Fantasy IX character. Yeah, he does not have much of a character, but I do like him, mainly due what he could have been. I mean, dude who wants to save the world on its own, loses all his memories, decent design... Heck, somehow Freya fell in love with him, and if she saw something in that guy, maybe we too can try. But let's talk about the art. I used a John Romita Jr. as a reference for this one. That's a striking pose for sure. I think it was a Spider-man pose. Anyway, what do I enjoy the most about this one, not just being Fratley, is the style, with all those lines that resemble a living being ready for action. Oh, and 20 years have passed and we still don't know a damn thing about Sir Fratley, it's hard to be a fan of a character that has none.

Number 4: Rainbow Knight II

I almost teared my bond sheet apart while drawing this one. It was a tough process to make all these colors appear, and I didn't expected the final result to be that gorgeous looking. Like, I painted it one, two, three, four times and then I watered it and took away all the painted and painted it again... With all the effort it took, this is one of my favorites for sure. I think those lines are supposed to be rain, but moving on...

Number 3: Hrist Chardonnay

Ah yes... My OC would soon make up in this list at one point. I love my OC's design, brown curly hair and purple coat (in contrast to Freya's white hair and red coat), and I had a hard time finding out the one drawing of Hrist I enjoyed doing the most. I found this one in which she's standing near a waterfall (or a canyon, I don't know), holding a javelin and looking forward with an eye covered by the hair. The colors really do add dimension and a kind of fantasy, maybe that's not the world but it feels fantastic somehow. And I love my OC with all my heart too, I just created her to be a mean brat but later I found myself liking Hrist a lot.

Number 2: The Last Cherry Blossom

I drew this one for a friend called JotaTe, who wrote a fic called The Last Cherry Blossom. I liked that fic and decided to do fanart of it, and this one... I looked at it and I was like 'damn, did I really drew this one!?' Besides how much black ink I have wasted, I am very fond of this one. Freya looks like a wilted flower, almost unrecognizable, gazing over her rainy homeland, Burmecia, as if she's flying away or coming back to it, most of it was made randomly so I have no idea what's going on, only that I liked a fic so much that I thought about drawing tons of artwork for it, and this is one of them.

Number One: Out Of The Blue Comes Green

That's it, folks. My favorite drawing ever conceived. The amount of details, details and even more details poured in this one... It took me two days until I could finish this one. Look at that mean spear Freya's holding at hand! Honestly, when I was finished with the linework, I thought the coloring would ruin this one, but I went for it, and decided to color this stunning piece. The background was meant to be solid blue, but I ran out of blue and decided to color it with hydropens of all kinds of blue. One thing I love about this one is the butterfly ribbon, which remained a staple in my later works.

And that's all about my rant! See you later, and happy 2023!

[faisty]

It was the strangest sight the huntress had ever seen, and she had once seen a skeever the size of a small child start a fight with an unsuspecting mudcrab over a dismembered foot in a boot that had washed up on the riverside. The skeever had successfully procured its gruesome prize (dinner?) but the mudcrab wasn’t left entirely high and dry as it managed to sever the rodent’s tail as it ran off. And yet this was something stranger entirely. 

The dark elf arrived in the early hours of the morning, just as the huntress was beginning her day, and if she didn’t know better, she could have sworn that he just sort of… appeared out of thin air a little way beyond the bridge. She put it down to the low light of dawn and the mist still pervading the air, settling damply against her cheeks and making the whole village hazy and grey. He walked purposefully across the bridge and into the small copse of cottages, striding past the huntress without so much as a sidelong glance. He looked… interesting? 

He was quite a pretty Dunmer, with sharp features; jet black eyes, all iris and pupil, and long dark hair pulled back from his face, but none of that was unusual. His armour certainly drew the eye - all black and red, possibly leather but definitely magical, intricate buckles both artistic and functional adorning the full-body piece, doing nothing to hide the elf’s lithe physique. Separate gloves and boots complemented the body armour perfectly, and the huntress was acutely aware that, despite watching him walk, he made absolutely no sound as he passed by. But what really gave her pause was the handprint across the elf’s face, perfectly placed across his mouth and slightly over his nose, as if someone had used their palm to silence him as they held him from behind. The print was dark even against his grey skin, and looked suspiciously like it had been made in blood. The complete effect was certainly a look, and honestly he was kind of pulling it off in a ‘I’ll bite your kneecaps off and use them as avant-garde decor in the vampire fetish club I run in my basement’ sort of way. 

The huntress might have made some effort to see and assess the handprint closer had she not been entirely distracted by the ornate bow strapped to his back. Now that was something she’d like to get her hands on. She was so entranced by the unusual curves of the gorgeous weapon that it took her a few moments to process the fact that he was heading directly for the burnt out fields that her community no longer used, and for good reason. She hastened after him, calling out.

“I wouldn’t go that way, traveller. There’s a dragon that has claimed those fields.”

He continued as if he hadn’t heard her, not breaking his stride. She shouted after him again to no greater effect. She sighed heavily. At least his slight frame might sate the beast enough to leave the village alone for a few days. She decided to follow at a healthy distance, wanting to ensure she could report accurately to the village Elder if they were to have some time to safely retrieve supplies. 

Which was how she ended up witnessing the strangest battle she had ever witnessed. If it could really be called a battle. 

As the dragon descended from the sky, she steeled herself to watch the stranger get slaughtered. Just before the beast landed, it seemed to stutter slightly in the air - just a short pause before it touched down, and when the huntress looked back to the elf, he was wearing a dark hood with a covering across his nose and mouth that most definitely hadn’t been there before. As the dragon stepped forwards, snapping forwards with its great maw, the elf pulled his bow from his back, and with impressive speed and accuracy started loosing arrows at the creature. The flurry of projectiles didn’t even cease when the dragon took a great breath, a sure indication that it was about to incinerate its prey, and the huntress winced preemptively. 

But when the fiery breath began, the elf didn’t budge. Instead, he kept releasing arrows until… everything stopped. The fire was still there, but it was no longer a continuous stream and instead hovered in midair, bathing the adventurer in scorching light. Inside the frozen flames, the elf replaced the bow on his back, and produced a pack, seemingly from nowhere. He opened it calmly, and proceeded to eat, by the huntress’s increasingly bewildered count, two bowls of soup, twenty-four carrots, six cabbages, seventeen tomatoes, a raw leg of rabbit, five wheels of cheese, twenty-three uncooked potatoes, and twelve sacks of flour. Looking none the worse for his… meal?, the elf closed the pack, placed it back in whatever non-location it had been in, and drew his bow once again. 

And then the fire was flowing again, and the arrows were flying again, and the huntress felt like maybe she needed a lie down, and that she should ask the healer if those mushrooms she had given her last week definitely had no other effect than headache relief. 

The combat continued in a similar vein for a short time, and then the dragon fell. The huntress watched as its soul rushed forth and was absorbed by the elf, which was probably the most normal thing that had happened over the course of the battle. Unable to hold herself back she rushed towards him.

“Dragonborn! You have saved my village!”

He turned towards her, making eye contact for the first time, and it made her feel slightly nauseous.

“If there’s anything-”

“Skip dialogue.”

The words died in the huntress’ throat. Alright. “That dragon-” 

“Skip dialogue.”

“Go and see-”

“Skip dialogue.”

“Safe travels!”

And with that, the Dunmer turned and strode away, this time far more slowly, as if through water. 

The huntress brought a hand to her throat, frowning. She swallowed hard and cleared her throat a few times. This… would take some explaining. She was grateful for the dragon’s large skeleton, mostly intact, still resting in the field, else the village would never believe her tale.

“So you are telling me this random guy showed up out of nowhere, killed the dragon within the hour and left without saying a thing?” “Actually sir he kept saying ‘skip dialogue’ while I was trying to talk to him.”