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grocery shopping (long doodle ahead)
extra:
#personally#my Ghost /can/ be flirty but the dynamic is different when its GhostRaven#both of them aren't as outwardly feral#they kind of have the silent mutual understanding vibe#Raven is not clingy not bcuz she is not- just rather not because she doesn't know if Ghost's into it#Raven's absolutely touch starved but also kinda gave up so she's just kind of vibing with Ghost#Ghost on the other hand is too use to the casualness and chill vibes they have and never consider or question their intimacy#Ghost: surely I've held her hands like once#Ghost: .....#Ghost: oh fuck#meanwhile#Raven thinking: is that the summer or spring edition of pompompurin bracelet? where did she get it? is it from Japan? Gatcha?#doodles came out shittier by the end of it cuz i got tired KJHLDKGSHFAKJH#gomz try to make a shorter doodle about her oc challenge: fail#gomz tries to explain the dynamic challenge: also fail#ah yes and horrible crops too#idk how to panel#LMAO#anyways#gummmyart#doodle#my oc#cod oc#[oc]Raven#GhostRaven#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x oc
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- Sweet Thing
Relationships - Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader
Summary - Sirens weren't all that bad, instead hunted for their tails that had glimmering scales worth a high amount of value. Agatha and Rio intended to sell your tail, but soon became rather attatched
Warnings: Kidnapping (fishnapping?), spear wound, non consensual kissing (Kind of? Reader doesn't know human customs so it's a bit iffy)
A/N: Uhm- I fell in love with this prompt and this is my fav thing I've written for aaa week so far.
Sirens were creatures of the sea, brilliant ones that were meant to swim free and wild. Unlike most tales, you did not sing sailors to their death, only a few sirens chose to do that. The sun bore down on the vast ocean, not able to reach the depths where you lived, so you swam near the surface. It was a dangerous move to do so. Pirates still roamed the seas, even as far out as you were, and sirens' tails sold for a high price.
Typically, you lived in the depths where humans couldn't reach, swirling in between coral and rocks while following colorful fish. Flat areas were used as farming grounds for food. It was a perfect life, yet part of you still longed for the human world. You had never gone close to shore before, always living too far out. Not only that but your father had prevented you from contact with humans.
As you grew older, so did your defiance for your father and you had been wandering closer to the surface, going further away from home and closer to the shore. Once you had gotten close enough to hear voices. People danced along the shore in the night, sticks with a bright thing glowing off of them. From what you had heard they were torches. Humans swung their arms and feet, joyful laughter echoing as odd garments attached to them swayed with their movements.
You wished so desperately to join them.
Sirens were rumored to be able to transform into humans, tails shifting to legs, gills and fins disappearing into your skin. The odd tint of your skin would disperse, and you would look like a normal person. You never had the confidence to try it out. Humans wore these odd things, clothes, your grandma called them. Sirens didn't have clothes. You figured you would stand out too much and that was the last thing you wanted if you were trying to explore the human world.
Seagulls cawed above you as you leisurely floated near the surface, the tip of your tail peeking out. There was only a split second you had after you saw them. A large ship, its sides climbing up and up, wooden panels lined up neatly to prevent water from getting in. Large metal nozzles peaked out the side. Silver flashed through the air and then there was a piercing pain in your tail.
Yelping, you paled when you bled into the water, a sharp spear sticking out of your tail. Panic overcame you as you reached to pull it out, wincing at the sting. It had gone all the way through your tail. Scales came out with it, leaving bare skin and a large hole in your tail. Shock kept you stuck in place, staring at the gaping gap in your tail that leaked a bright red.
"Dammit Billy!" You heard a voice curse from the ship and your head snapped up, eyes widening with fear, "You weren't supposed to hit the tail."
Once again you hardly had time to react before a net was hurling at you. With your tail damaged and pain pulsing through you, you weren't able to get away as the net dropped down on you and closed all around you. A scream bubbled in your throat. There was a harsh tug and then you were dangling in the air, your blood dripping into the water and you could see shark fins circling below.
You winced as your body slammed into the ship, wood digging into your sensitive skin. Thrashing as you were dragged across the wood, you tried to break free. But your tail flapped uselessly, and your arms did nothing against the ropes. A taunting chuckle echoed behind you, and you were no longer being dragged across the wood. You stopped in your struggles for a moment, meeting eyes with a woman.
Her piercing eyes were an icy blue, framed by brown hair that fell around her face and highlighted her sharp cheekbones. Her tongue dragged over her pink lips as she crouched, one hand on her knee, and studied you.
There was nothing you could do to stop the fear that tore through your system. It overran any common sense you otherwise would've had and numbed the pain in your tail. Blood leaked onto the deck, seeping into the wood and staining it an even darker color.
Another woman stood behind the blue eyed one. This one had big brown eyes, one that was often associated with childlike innocence, but she looked anything but innocent. Her lips, a pale pink, were pulled into a smirk that made her eyes twinkle with dark joy. A knife twirled between her fingers and when your gaze caught on it your breath hitched. Sun light bounced off it, highlighting the sharp edge.
She met your eye, pausing in her fidgety movements, and held the knife up for you to see. You flinched back, trying to get away. Your eyes flickered around for an escape, searching for somewhere to go.
It was then that you noticed how many people were here, watching in silence. There were four others on board. A woman who had a pink shirt, one with red in her hair, and older woman who looked weird, and a young boy - the youngest out of all of them. His eyes were wide, and face flushed as he looked away from you, keeping his gaze
Inhaling shakily, you forced a question past your lips, "What do you want with me?" Your words were unsteady, hesitance and fear dripping from them.
"Well, we wanted your tail," the blue-eyed woman drawled, "But then Billy hit it, so you have no more use, hon."
"You’re pirates," you breathed softly. If you thought you were scared before, it was worse now. Your heart beat frantically in your chest. Humans may have portrayed sirens as these horrible creatures, luring sailors to their death for fun, but that was only some of you. Sirens told tales of pirates who murdered their friends in cold blood, laughing as the blood tainted the water and dolphins pocked at their bodies sadly. Pirates were the most brutal type of humans.
"Well, I thought that was obvious," She glanced around dramatically, her long fingers flaring around. Your tail twitched.
"She needs medical care Agatha," the boy, Billy you think, said. He made a pointed glance towards your tail which was leaking out onto the deck, a steady stream of blood. Your head was lightheaded as you propped yourself on your elbows.
"Put me back in the water and I'll be fine," you mumbled. Your father will find you. Or the fish would tell him. It didn't matter but you would rather die in the ocean then on this ship.
Agatha scoffed, her head tipping back slightly, "That's funny." She leaned closer for a brief moment, eyes slowly dragging from your face down to the gaping wound in your tail. "Billy go get some cloth and a needle with string. And what are the rest of you doing? Get back to work!" Everyone but the brown eyed brunette left, Billy scurrying away to get whatever she ordered.
With a small nod from Agatha, the other woman stepped forward, her smirk widening as she twirled her knife around. You flinched when she bent down, prepared for more pain. Except she only cut through the rope and let it fall to the floor.
"She's skittish," She said, glancing at Agatha with some sort of emotion gleaming in her eyes, "I like it."
Billy came back a moment later, carrying a bundle of cloth in his hand with a needle and string in the other. He averted his eyes towards the ground as he got closer. The shiny metal caught your eyes, and they widened in more fear. You tried to scramble back, no longer tangled by the rope, but it did little use when Agatha grabbed the tip of your tail and yanked you back. A yelp escaped your lips as she held you firmly in place, despite your frantic squirming.
"Hold still," she snapped. Her hands were surprisingly tender as they pressed the cloth onto your wound, the white material becoming red quickly. The other woman knelt by your head, her hands held out placatingly before she pressed down on your shoulders, forcing you to lay down. Her eyes lingered on your chest for a moment, something dark in her eyes.
"How does your healing work?" Her words were soft, not matching the mischievous glint in her eyes.
You gasped when Agatha pressed down on the wound, your tail flicking up, "Uhm- like normal?"
You watched as Agatha raised an unimpressed eyebrow as she wiped the blood on your tail, the cloth occasionally catching on your scales. They shimmered under the sunlight, and you were suddenly aware of how hot it was up here. It was like you were being held above a heat vent, the water bubbling and searing your skin. Your skin and scales were drying out.
Baring your teeth, you hissed when Agatha swiped through the wound, her towel collecting blood and giving you a clearer view. A hand cupped your chin, tilting your head up and forcing your mouth open. An offended sound left your throat as the brown eyed woman examined your mouth. She squeezed your cheeks and leant closer.
Their hands were all over you, on your tail, your face - it was too much. You shoved at the woman holding your face, although that did nothing but make her tighten her grip and grin wildly. Her eyes were ablaze with delight as she tugged your face close.
"Don't do that," her voice was light, almost like a song, "Be nice."
Agatha scoffed from her spot at your tail, glancing up with a small smile. You would snarl at her if you could, but the other woman still held you tightly. Her grip was bruising against your face and her nails dug into your skin. She hummed as she twisted you, giving her different angles of your fangs that protruded like spikes from your gums.
It was a defense mechanism that ran in your specific genes, but it did nothing to help you now. Finally, she let you go, her fingers uncurling from your cheeks, but her eyes never left your face.
"Can you have stitches?" Agatha was threading the string through the needle as she asked the question, sitting back on her shins.
You blinked, wide eyed and confused, "Those are?"
"I'll take that as a no," she sighed, chewing on her lower lip, "How do you heal?"
"I've never-" you shrugged. Pain throbbed from your tail, worse than anything you had ever felt. You had gotten small nicks and cuts before. "Nothing has been this bad."
Agatha threw the needle onto the ground, "Well that's helpful." She glared at you as if it was your fault that you had been speared through your tail. You returned her harsh look.
"Water," you croaked, your throat suddenly dry. The two women exchanged a glance before the unknown one stood, her boots clicking on the floor. Biting pain coursed through your veins, and you wished it would stop. The harsh sun beating down didn't help as you lacked the familiar comfort of the sea. A moment later the other woman returned, a bucket in her hands before she splashed it all over your tail. It wasn't graceful or much but soothed the ache of the puncture.
Agatha leaned past your tail, cupping your chin in her face with a sick grin, "I think I'll keep you."
^____________^
A few day cycles in you figured out how to turn into your human form, your tails becoming legs and gills vanishing. The only thing that remained was your sharp teeth. It was awkward at first, stumbling around as you tried to figure out how to walk. They made it look so easy and Agatha and Rio laughed as you fell flat on your face.
The two had dressed you in their clothes. It felt restricting to be confined by such human things and you hated it, but apparently that was what was expected by humans. You were stuck in their room, stuck to stare longingly out into the sea as you watched the waves crash up against the side of the boat, but they never let you out. If you were let out, you were bolt in an instant and jump into the sea.
Billy brought you food on a tray with a sympathetic smile and a soothing voice. He offered empathy, a listening ear, which you turned down at first. Then days turned into more and you were still stuck in the room. You took up Billy's offer to talk when the days began to become longer and longer, drawing out as if they would never end.
Agatha and Rio would return at night, snuggling up in their bed as you slept on one parallel to theirs. Once you had woken up to the bed creaking and obscene moans being drawn out. You had flipped over, the blanket pulled up to your shoulder, as you sat still as a rock in bed. After casually mentioning it to Billy when he came to see you, he turned bright red and spluttered before explaining it was the way humans reproduced. You decided not to question it more after that.
Snapping you out of your thoughts, the door creaked open, Agatha walking in. Rio trailed behind with her hands shoved casually in her pockets. Per usual, you scrambled back as far as possible on your bed, hissing. Agatha rolled her eyes. She sat on the edge of the bed, eyes scanning over you in a way you would never understand. It was as if she was trying to see inside of you. She scooched closer and you bared your teeth.
Lips curling in annoyance, Agatha's hand shot forward, grabbing your chin. There was a split second before she had a tool in her hand, pliers if you remembered correctly, and they were latched tight onto your teeth.
She leaned in close, her eyes narrowed, "I told you to stop that," her voice was low, a warning, "I will give you one more chance before I yank your teeth out, understand?"
Rio was smirking behind her when you glanced back, your cheeks flushed a dark red. Agatha raised a brow.
"Understood?"
You huffed but nodded the best you could with her firm grip on you. Her nails dug into your skin one more time before she let go with a satisfied smirk. Closing your mouth, you licked your lips and sat back, face red as the tomatoes Billy showed you how to juggle with once. Agatha twirled the pliers in her fingers before shoving them into her pocket.
"How would you like to leave this room?" Agatha's words sent a jolt of joy through you, and you perked up, pointed ears alert and ready to hear what she had to say. She smiled at your excitement, "Hang on pretty girl, there's a couple things first. If you try to run, I will lock you back up in this room again. You are to stay by my side. Do not make me tie you up like a dog."
You tilted your head, blinking at her. What was a dog? Although being tied up did not sound like fun, after a moment you reluctantly nodded. There was hardly a moment before Rio's hand was latched onto your forearm and she was dragging you out. You stumbled over your own two feet, still not used to without a fin, and let Rio drag you along. Not that you had a choice.
You glanced back at Agatha for help, but the woman was just watching in amusement, eyes twinkling brightly.
"Alright," Rio said softly, shoving a door open, "Here's the sun."
Blinking, you took in the sunlight, hand coming up to shield your eyes. It shone down brightly, a harsh heat compared to the cool of the bedroom. While the coolness reminded you of the depths of the ocean, it was nice to see the sun again. You tilted your face up, closing your eyes and letting the heat seep into your skin. You hardly noticed Rio's grip on your arm, or the way it loosened, and she stood watching you with a soft smile.
"Y/N!" Billy's loud voice interrupted your peace, and your eyes snapped open. He was running towards you, shirt untucked and flapping in the slight wind like his fluffy black hair.
You forced a smile onto your lips after a nervous glance at Rio, "Hey Billy."
He grabbed your hand, tearing you away from Rio. You were partially glad for the distance from the woman, but a part of you wanted to be near her. Billy dragged you up the stairs, once again tripping over your own two feet. It was a miracle that they managed to stay on them for the whole day.
The sea splashed against the side of the boat, a consistent and steady sound that made you long for the sea even more. That deep yearning inside of you arose again, even stronger than before. Your eyes latched onto the waves, imagining yourself in them. You would no longer have legs - you would have a fin and gills again and the wet feeling of the water on your skin.
The fish circling around you, the water cool and comforting. A little bit of sun shining through the blue surface when you came up. Your family's faces were slowly fading from your mind, but you still longed to be with them again.
You didn't realize that since you stopped so did Billy, his hand still in yours as he stared at you.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, "You don't deserve this."
You shrugged. Maybe you did deserve it. Even after hundreds of lectures from your father, you still chose to push your luck. The thrill of adrenaline you got made it all worth it. If you had just listened, then this never would have happened.
"Billy," Agatha's voice cut through the air, "I'll take her from here."
Billy smiled sheepishly, directing one to you with a deeper meaning, before he scurried off. Agatha gave him an affectionate glance before she turned her eyes to you, an unamused look in them.
"Don't let Billy drag you around." She muttered it like it was a piece of advice, but it sounded more like a command. You rolled your eyes at her and curled your lips in defiance. Agatha narrowed her eyes and grabbed you by the arm. "Watch the attitude."
And once again you were tempted to respond with some sort of snark but refrained in exchange for walking away and further up the deck. The wind blew your hair in your face and whipped against your skin. It wasn't so different from the underwater currents and made you miss home even more. Agatha trailed behind you, although you could hear a second set of footsteps that told you Rio was there too.
You wandered up the front of the ship and stared down into the water. It would be so easy to jump.
A hand clamped down your shoulder and hot breath hovered by your ear, "You gonna jump?" Rio lips brushed against your cheekbone as she leaned even closer, and you could feel her chest press up against your back. A part of you wanted to pull away from her touch, leap into the water and enjoy the comforting embrace, but something held you there. It wasn't Rio's hand, nor Agatha's piercing gaze.
Even as you tried to pick your feet up off the wooden deck, you failed. It was as if you were stuck in place. Frustration boiled in your stomach as time passed on and your brows furrowed.
The waves crashed against the ship, seemingly more aggressive in tune to your emotions. Tears of resentment pooled in your eyes and your fists clenched.
"Why?" you croaked, "Why not just let me go?"
Rio's lip teased the column of your throat, and you shrugged her off while your heart pounded in your chest. You could practically feel her smirk even though you couldn't see her. The movement of her lips felt personal although you didn't know why, it felt as if it meant more, but you didn't know why. Her arms slowly circled around your waist, tugging you even closer and trapping you.
"Because you're too sweet to let go," she whispered against your skin. Your lip wobbled as she squeezed you tight and kept her palms flat against your stomach. Dolphins surfaced, their fins peeking through the top of the water as they leapt and dived happily. It irked you that you couldn't be there with them. You used to swim with dolphins every chance you got, swerving through you their pods like an obstacle course.
The thought only made your eyes burn further and your heart tighten.
"I want to go home."
You hated how broken your voice sounded, how cracked it was. Desperation leaked through as you felt a tear fall. Another human weakness. It trailed down your cheek and you felt Agatha's hands cup your face, turning you towards her. Blue eyes, shimmering with desire, met yours. Except hers weren’t filled with tears. Agatha’s hands were so gentle on your face, kinder than she should be.
Her thumb wiped away the fallen tear with a soft smile, one that almost hid the sharp look in her eyes, "This is your home."
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Meeting my longtime artist and good friend, Chris, IN REAL LIFE!
So, I hadn't been to a restaurant in over a decade. I can't even remember which restaurant since it was so long ago. But in the past few weeks I've now been to TWO restaurants.
I am becoming a social butterfly.
And it is exhausting.
But also good.
First I reconnected with my high school best friend, John.
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And that went great.
But then the opportunity to see my friend Chris (a.k.a @whosthewhatnow ) came up only a few days later. And this close proximity of social events scared me a bit, but I have been feeling much better since they figured out my heart thing, so I decided to try and do both things even though they were only a few days apart.
The key to this was strategic resting. As soon as I got home from seeing John, I got in bed and I didn't get out of it until it was time to see Chris. And that was just enough recovery time to pull this off. Typically a short outing requires 2-3 days of rest after.
I had never met Chris in real life. He has done nearly all of the artwork for my website and comics over the past decade. And he was a main character in my CRAPPRnauts series.
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We know each other so well and it is crazy that we've never seen each other with our very own eyeballs.
He is such an amazing artist. He works fast and he adds so many cool extra details that you can stare at his comic panels multiple times and catch a new joke or easter egg each time. He is a dream to work with and my Corg Life series was only successful because he did such a wonderful job bringing Otis to life in comic form.
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So we decided to meet up at a restaurant with his friend Michael and then I was going to take a nice portrait of him after dinner. Chris had never had a professional photo taken of himself and I decided to fix that.
I told him I had a mobile photography setup. Which, in reality, is a trunk full of lights and stands and other various camera gear that I definitely won't need, but bring anyway. It's "mobile" in that it all fits in my car if you are good at Tetris (which I am).
The restaurant was downtown and I had visions of St. Louis's famous Gateway Arch in the background of Chris's portrait. I thought that would be such a cool shot. I could see it in my head and I even dreamed about it.
So I got in my car and headed downtown and my GPS told me to exit at 249B. But I kept looking and I couldn't see the sign for 249B.
This is how much road I had left when I finally was able to see the exit for 249B.
So I ended up taking 249A and going straight to East St. Louis.
Which, if you believe the headlines, is not a place you ever want to be.
Google Maps and I have been having issues lately. They also tried to get me to take the spooky way home that night, but thankfully I actually knew the non-spooky way back from when I used to go to Cardinal games with my parents as a kid.
My short term memory was trashed by shock therapy. And so was a lot of my long term memory. But it finally came through in a pinch and remembered something useful.
I only had to loop around and cross a bridge so I didn't really do anything but touch the edge of East St. Louis. I was mostly concerned about being late for dinner more than its scary reputation. Usually those news stories about a place being "dangerous" are actually just racist and hurtful to people stuck in poverty. I mean, technically my house is in a "dangerous" neighborhood, and we do have trouble with petty crime in some spots, but aside from a few dinged-up mailboxes, I've never felt unsafe in my home.
On the way back to regular St. Louis I could see the Arch on the horizon at sunset and it was kind of magical. And I wasn't able to get a good shot of it, but it sure looked pretty from my point of view.
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My photos kind of remind me of the beginning of movies like Training Day where they are trying to show you gritty, dutch angle shots of the city out of the car window to give you a sense of the location.
As I approached the restaurant I invented a new genre I call "stoplight photography." The sky was orange and the streets of St. Louis were just asking to be photographed. But I wasn't willing to die to get neat photos, so I just took them at every red light.
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The big trick was trying to edit the dark area at the top of my windshield out of the photos to make it look like I didn't take these pictures from my car.
After a 15 minute detour through Illinois I arrived at my destination—a Mexican place called Rosalita's. It had a beautiful sign, so I took that literal sign as a metaphorical sign it was a nice place to get a quesadilla.
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Dinner was great. Both signs were right and their quesadilla was very tasty. Chris and I both got one, so we are quesadilla twins. The waitress was one of those "I can remember your order without writing anything down" types. And I am one of those, "I get anxiety when things aren't written down" types. And, to her credit, she did not forget our orders. But she did forget to give us silverware and napkins. So I still feel like my anxiety was valid.
We told sad stories of the pups we lost. But we also had a lot of fun and laughed and I got to meet Michael who turned out to be an absolute mensch. I sometimes have trouble meeting new people with my social anxiety, but he was very affable and made me feel comfortable with his presence almost right away. He was a fan of Otis and mentioned he still has a Super Otis shirt. I always get choked up hearing that Otis is still loved. Hopefully we get to meet again.
Dinner ended and it was picture time.
I asked Chris if he wanted the high effort photo or the low effort photo. Either we figure out how to get to the Arch or we find a spot near the restaurant and just take his portrait there. Chris and Michael had a driver because they were coming from a big conference and getting to the Arch would have been complicated. So we decided to go with the low effort option.
I found a cool shop nearby that had an LED wall that changed to all sorts of different colors. And I thought that would make a neat background and give a colorful edge light on Chris's face. I pulled my car near that spot and started unloading my trunk full of photo gear.
I think Chris and Michael were a little overwhelmed when I started pulling camera gear out of my trunk like a clown pulling an endless handkerchief out of his mouth. But as far as photo setups go, it was actually pretty minimal.
Light, giant battery, light stand, umbrella, tripod, camera, rolling walker with seat.
My dad's old rollator came in clutch because I wanted to shoot from a low angle and it is hard for me to bend down. In fact, I think I'm going to look into getting an all terrain version so I can do more outdoor photoshoots.
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I started shooting in the middle of a downtown sidewalk. And I was super anxious. I could not focus (my brain, not my camera). I was very distracted with all of the people walking by and staring. I was not sure if any of the photos were turning out. I wasn't even sure if they were in focus (my camera, not my brain) because I had not yet had my lens calibrated. But down the street there was a guy with an old school boombox playing random music. His music helped to drown out the ambient noise and gave me some comfort.
I had no clue if the photos were any good, but when I got home and checked them on my computer, I realized I have 12 years of experience and muscle memory built up. I probably should have just trusted myself because the photos all turned out great.
I think Chris can now officially say he has had a professional portrait taken of himself.
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This photo has been officially loved by Chris's girlfriend and mother.
There is no greater seal of approval and I am honored.
I was able to comp in any of the colors the wall displayed from other shots in case Chris is feeling a little more green in the future.
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A literal rainbow of options.
I also liked this one, though it is a little more "environmental portrait" than regular portrait.
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And I got some nice photos of our little group to help us remember the night.
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And I got a bunch of photos of Chris making silly faces like Calvin at his school photoshoot.
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I love this woman's reaction to our little impromptu sidewalk photo shenanigans.
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After we said our goodbyes and I gave my friend a hug, I was a little bummed I didn't get to photograph him at the Arch like I had dreamed.
But then I realized I had my own car and it was capable of taking me places. (I actually haven't gotten used to that after not driving for nearly 15 years.)
So I decided to drive a few blocks over to Kiener Plaza—a park with a view of the Arch.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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Syntax Error
(AKA Miscommunication pt. 2)
Rodimus x Ratchet x Drift x Human Reader
Summary: Things had been going great in your little situationship polycule "it's complicated" relationship with Rodimus, Ratchet and Drift. But you haven't been...feeling well.
Word Count: 1,817
AN: NSFW themes and talk, and things get a little heated, but no outright smut. tagged valveplug just in case. Please feel free to leave comments and stuff, I enjoy feedback. Also, this is sorta the end of this one, just feels good as a 2 part series.
[PREV]
“It's…nice, being able to spend quiet time with you.”
Drift looked up from where he was doing a centering exercise, smiling softly over at Ratchet. “Yeah?”
“Mh. Away from any stupid bots, away from the others in our little family… Don't get me wrong, I care about them, but… I do enjoy spending time with you, just one on one, existing together…”
Drift's smile warmed, an adoring look in his optics…before a more mischievous look crept in. “You know…it really has been a while since it was just us. Our squishy little lover tries to give us space but I swear, it's almost as if when we have time to ourselves, some chaos or trouble happens. Maybe it would be nice to spend some…intimacy together?”
Ratchet lifted a brow, and a more heated look bloomed on his faceplates. “Oh yeah?”
“Mmhm~ We haven't played with our wire arrays in a while, I know you like it when I do…”
Ratchet let out a dry chuckle as Drift slowly stalked towards him, slowly laying back on the berth. He felt like a glitch-mouse being eyed up by nitrotiger, the way Drift's optics sharpened with desire and hunger. It didn't help when the speedster's talons flexed.
Drift felt more like a starved artist who finally found his muse. Like a solarplume who's petals finally got its first taste of UV.
Drift was on the larger bot in an instant, fluidly pinning the medic's thicker servos above his head. Dexterous hands smoothed the seams of the other's armor plating, ever so slightly dipping into the creases and making Ratchet squirm and sigh.
“Frag, Drift…”
Sharp denta went to neck cabling, lightly chewing
Those oh so nimble digits dug in a bit to one of the plating seams, gently tugging. With little effort, Drift pulled one of them away, revealing parts of Ratchet's mainframe. Reverently, he drags a claw, just baaarely catching, across the rubbery insulation of a particular cord. Ratchet exvents softly, sighing wistfully as Drift bit into his cabling more, making the medic groan.
“Maybe we should let our little third in on this sometime, you know how much they love to please-”
The door to Drift's habsuite hissed slightly as it slid open a crack, then yellow digits crammed their way into the small space before yanking the metal barrier open with an obnoxious screech.
“GUYS.”
Ratchet groaned in a different, bitter manner and rolled over, fussing with his paneling to close it as Drift sat up, huffing and trying to remain cool, as if he hadn't just had his cybernetic cock blocked.
“WE HAVE A PROBLEM. WE HAVE A PROBLEM.”
Drift vented. “Your aura is all sorts of chaotic, you need to calm down-”
“WE KNOCKED UP THE HUMAN.”
………The room was so quiet, even Ratchet could hear the electricity buzzing through Rodimus's circuits.
“You slagging moron- that's impossible." Ratchet finally snapped, the chill in the air oppressive. “Organics and Cybertronians don't mix.”
“What about-”
“That's not part of this iteration.”
“Right. STILL-”
“STILL NOTHING.” The medic growled, sitting up and finally getting his panels closed. “There isn't a single way for humans to become sparked, because they're ORGANIC and lack SPARKS. Not only that, our little partner isn't even able to get-”
“THEY HAD A POSITIVE PREGNANCY TEST.”
Ratchet's mouth clamped shut and he stared at the captain, shocked. Drift shifted anxiously. “I…how do you know..?”
“I've seen enough human media. Two pink lines is positive.” Rodimus Prime stared at the other two mechs, his tanks churning and making him feel like he had swallowed energon that had long since gone off. “One of us sparked them, or got them human pregnant or- or something.”
“H..Human pregnancy tests give false positives all the time-”
“Ratchet.”
The old medic looked to his Conjux Endura… and for the first time noticed how panicked he looked. Drift looked up at him, optics wide and scared, as well as his voice.
“We should have… we should have been using contraceptives- what if it's not viable Ratty? What if… what if it…”
Rodimus's faceplates were stiff. Strained. “There's two of you and one of me, you're twice as likely to have knocked them up. It's gotta be yours’.”
“We ALL have overloaded in them- this doesn't make any sense!” Ratchet shook his head, hands up. “There's no way. You have to have misread the test-”
“IT SAYS ON THE STUPID TEST THAT TWO LINES IS POSITIVE. Look, you two are the best suited to-”
“Stop it! Both of you knock it off-!”
“I am too old to be a Sire!” Snapped Ratchet.
“I CAN'T BE ONE! LOOK AT ME, I'M A FRAGGING MESS! I CAN BARELY TAKE CARE OF MYSELF!” Rodimus shouted, panic in his voicebox tinging every word. “I can't, I just cant...!”
“SO YOU'RE SHOVING THIS OFF ONTO US JUST LIKE YOU DID WITH THEIR AFTERCARE FOR SO LONG.”
"SILENCE!!”
The medic and the captain paused as the swordsman took a few calming breaths, letting the air filter through his vents and breathing out panic.
“Okay… okay…” Drift looked between the other two. “We are not ditching the human to raise our- YES! OUR! our sparkling on their own. First and foremost, why…why hasn't our little earthling told us…?” He murmured, looking upset. Betrayed. Worried.
Rodimus reached over, gently putting a hand on his best friend's shoulder as his Conjux moved closer to be a supportive presence. Sparklings, Primus preserve them. Their population numbers were in shambles, he can't remember the last time had even SEEN one…
“Ehh, don't feel too bad, Drift.” The red and gold mech hummed. “I think they're having a bit of a rough go right now, plus I bet they just found out themselves.”
Ratchet looked over, chevron glinting against the calming lights in the shared hab-suite. “They still aren't feeling good?” The prime shook his head in response.
“Nah, it's actually how I found out. Our little squishy sweetie- Don't. Do not tell them I called them that, it just fully registered what I said and I want to purge.” Rodimus shuddered dramatically, trying to cut the tension. “Anyways. I went to check up on them since they've been feeling like slag. I make a holo-form, go in to see if they need anything and they're passed out cold. So I just… I don't know, their hab was a mess and…”
Drift had a small, creeping smirk on his face. “You started cleaning their room? When yours looks like that?”
“Hey. Hey. It was hard to focus with so much trash and stuff piled up. I didn't clean up a ton just-” The mech was getting more and more flustered. “Just! Shut up!”
“Rodimus. Please.”
At Ratchet's grumbled pleading, the captain sighed and focused again…after shoving Drift a bit. “ANY! WAYS! So I kinda sorta picked up some stuff. They had those uh… thin face cloths on their night stand, those ones the humans in movies use when they cry and they get all teary, and their hydration bottle was empty. So I went to their bathroom and it. Reeked. Of that acrid smell that their bile leaves behind. Like that time I spun them so fast in their chair they purged on the command floor-”
“Primus sakes…”
“It's relevant!! Morning sickness is a big thing with human pregnancies in movies! So I scented that and ew, and then I started filling their little hydration bottle in the sink for them and then I noticed this test! It was sitting on its packaging on the sink!” With that, the mech opened a subspace panel and held up a teeny, tiny plastic blue square, so small that Drift thought it was dirt or something else. He passed it over to Ratchet when he made a motion for it. “They uh. Eliminate on these so I rinsed it off, so the lines are a little smudged, but there WAS two lines.”
“They must have really tired themself out…” Drift murmured, crossing his arms in a way that masked he was hugging himself. “Poor little thing, I bet they'd been feeling the symptoms and took the test on a whim, and then cried themself to sleep…” His spark ached at the thought of them, scared and upset with the reality crashing down on them, wailing and sobbing into their soft bedding until they tuckered themselves out…
“They don't know we know.”
“We… should we let them come to us? I don't want them to feel they are all alone in this, worse yet to do something drastic…”
“They won't do that, I'm sure right now they're just scared and worried. They'll come to us. Have faith in them.” Rodimus murmured.
“I… You're right. I should do a wellness prayer to see if it can help ease their-”
“Drift.”
Said mech looked up, finials shifting a bit. He spotted his lover, stormy expression on his faceplates, glaring at the little test in his servos. The medic then glanced up, seething rage wavering through his field as he glared at Rodimus, overpowering the anxiety and panic that had been lacing through their own just moments before. “Ratch…?”
“Drift, I'm going to beat him, put him back together, then beat him again in the desperate hopes it'll knock some sense into his processor.”
“WOAH, HEY WHAT-”
“Ratchet, please, it's not Rodimus's fault, we were all-”
“YOU FRAGGING MORON. YOU BARGE IN, SCARE DRIFT HALF TO OFFLINING, MAKE ME QUESTION EVERYTHING I KNEW AS A MEDIC-”
“IT'S POSITIVE!”
“IT'S A PRIMUS DAMNED INFLUENZA TEST.” Ratchet snarled, glaring at Rodimus. “YOU DIDN'T READ THE PACKAGING AT ALL THAT IT WAS SITTING ON? I GAVE THEM THIS DAYS AGO!”
The atmosphere of the room was sucked out, replaced with an entirely different feeling.
“We… We aren't Sires?” Rodimus whispered, relief flooding through his systems. His head whipped over to Drift, who was bracing against his knee joints and mumbling a mantra of “thank you Primus” over and over. A small laugh escaped his vocoder, before he covered his face.
“No!! I-” He sucked through his denta, letting out a vent. Two. Three. “No. No, we aren't. They aren't a Carrier, humans and Cybertronians can't crossbreed, and YOU. Are leaving after making me feel like I aged 50 thousand years in five kliks. Bastard.”
Ratchet watched as Rodimus and Drift hugged each other tightly with relief. Before a certain look crossed the captain's faceplates.
“Sooo… wireplay, huh? You two want me to stick around and-”
“Rodimus.”
“Yeah?”
“Get out.” Drift grumbled for him, letting go and gently pushing the other mech away. Rodimus laughed a little more, before taking a few steps away.
“Fiiine, fine. I'll go, ah, check on the human.”
“You two are a stupid match made in stupid heaven.” Ratchet groused as the mech left, pulling Drift close. Their door wasn't closing right after Rodimus had wrenched it open.
#transformers x human#transformers x reader#drift x reader#ratchet x reader#rodimus x reader#tf x human#tf x reader#valveplug#reader insert#dratchrod x reader#squibs writes
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✧. ┊𝐿𝑖𝑔ℎ𝘵 𝘚ℎ𝘰𝑤𝑒𝑟
A/N: I'm backkkk!! I've been reading alien fics lately and wanted to make something with our best boi! it's a silly one-shot but my love for alien!dogday might make me write another:3 P.S. i did some research for this so dont come for me if something is wrong blame google!
Alien!Dogday x GN!Reader CW: injury
The rapid beeping of the ship forced you out of your sleep. The red lights flickered as a warning causing you to head to the control panel to assess the situation quickly. "WOAH!" The ship began to shake violently as you bashed away at the controls, a vain attempt to put your ship back onto course. Crackling can be heard coming from your transmitter "...Co...Ang..." The signal was weakening and you needed to work quickly. "HELLO? I NEED AID IMMEDIATELY!"
You cried as you began to mentally prepare for the worst as you suited up and strapped yourself into a seat.
Your body began to jerk harshly against the restraints of the safety harness. You could feel the air around you getting hotter and hotter as your eyes locked onto the windows turning into a tinted orange as the flames grew from the nose of your ship to the sides... Between those flames, you just barely caught a glimpse of the tiny planet you call home. The distance made you realize how far you were, and alone. Metal began to wail against itself as you felt your last breath leave your body.
Your eyes flutter open and the flash of a dim flickering light fills your vision before your eyes can adjust. You blink, disoriented and with ringing ears. You're alive by some miracle. Slowly you try to rise to your feet though before you can move a sharp pain violently runs through your leg, making you fall back onto the ground. You wince in pain as you look around "Wait there's... gravity?" Quickly you begin piecing everything together. You never made it to your destination you were now sitting in a completely different orbit.
You remove the now broken harness strap that clung onto your shoulder. The small crack in your helmet almost sent you into a panic. Your breathing was fine however any more damage could lead to bigger problems than being injured in space.
"Mission control... Do you read me?" Your throat croaked. You were desperately in need of water and aid. You were stranded on a planet
with no equipment that could keep you alive and you only had your oxygen tank left to spare.
Your headset crackled and the voice was once again barely audible. "An... Stat... Aid..."
"I'm alive, but I only hav-" The area dimmed as a giant shadow loomed over you.
You ignored the static voice coming from your transmitter. There was nothing you could use to defend yourself. Tears formed in your eyes as you sat as still as humanly possible.
Something was whistling behind you.
You try to stabilize your breathing as the shadow begins to slowly disappear. You take a sigh in relief yet you still weren't alone. Turning to your left you find yourself face to face with a furry creature. It seems like its stare was out of curiosity rather than fear. The creature was one like you've never seen before.
It was canine-looking, with orange fur and what looked to be a sun symbol on the darker part of its fur that blended with the lighter parts. Its fluffy ears and tail looked soft, you were almost tempted to reach out to feel them. But what stood out to you the most was its antenna. Orange like its fur but had green at the tips, the same green spots and stripes were also had on its tail and ears.
It seemed friendly enough, it hasn't tried to hurt you... Yet. "H-hello?" you wave at the creature as it begins to inspect you from where it stands. It chirps as it crouches down and holds your helmet in its hands.
"No no!" you protest as it reaches your helmet. Your injuries prevented you from putting up a fight, you watch as it continues to gently pry off your helmet. You could only watch in fear as you slowly begin to suffocate now from the lack of oxygen. Your body begins to feel like it could explode as your vision blurs. Two furry hands gently hold onto the sides of your face as the blurred sight of an orange blob swiftly pulls your face into its own.
"What.." you look around in confusion. There the creature was, sitting in front of you cross-legged and smiling back at you. "You startled me there! I thought I had lost you!"
"You- I can understand you. Wait." you look around and spot your cracked helmet off to the side. You begin to panic yet continue to breathe just fine.
"You're safe! But you're hurt."
It puts a furry hand on your head to help calm you. Confused and on the brink of losing your mind you decide to not struggle for fear of making it or him angry.
You could hear the faint crackle coming from your helmet, you knew what the sound meant. "It sounds worried about you." He begins as he rises to his feet. "Your home... is broken." He looks down at the debris that surrounds you both.
"My hom-HEY!" You were cut off as the furry creature gently picked you up and began to float.
"PUT ME DOWN!" You shout as he continues to float away while holding you comfortably in his arms.
"Do you wish to float yourself?"
He asks cautiously now sensing your fear. His ears fall flat as his antenna droop slightly.
"N-no, humans can’t float..."
This must be his first encounter with a human. You think to yourself as you ponder what this discovery could mean for you. You'd have a hand in it, sure. But what about him? What would happen to him if you brought him back to earth with your crew?
"Good thing we've arrived then!" He cheers happily as he gracefully and gently sits you both on the rough ground, releasing you from his gentle hold. His orange hand points to the sky, you follow his hand and gaze at the sight in awe. Dozens of stars dance around the sky above you. They remind you of the star showers back home as they zoomed past you two and twinkled, you couldn't help but smile at the sight.
"Beautiful right?"
"They are," you respond, still in awe as you continue watching. "Do you have a name?" You cautiously ask.
"I was given the name Dogday." A small cloud of dust begins to form as his tail slowly starts to wag in excitement.
"Do you have a name, little human?" you glance up at him, his antennae begin to give off a faint green glow.
"My friends call me Angel."
"Angel..."
He parrots back in a tone as sweet as honey. You smile at him and he
does the same. Oddly enough you start feeling more at ease. "Do you know where we are right now?" You ask as you relax onto his furry arm. Your gentle movements made his tail wag even faster. "We're sitting on the star home with petals!"
He answers happily. You tilt your head slightly in confusion but quickly realize what he meant.
"Petals?..." you were confused with what he had meant. You look around in an attempt to see what he might be referring to, and an excited gasp leaves your lips upon the realization of where you two are currently seated. "We're on Saturn!"
You exclaim, catching the poor creature off guard. He lets our happy chirp as he mirrors your expression.
"Humans give names to the star homes?"
You nod with a hum. Dogday was more than pleased with the conversation and your company. You begin to play with the ground, tracing the ground's rough textures next to your legs. He chirps happily once again upon seeing how relaxed you are now.
"We do. On my star home, all of them have names!"
"Your star home?..."
Dogday looks at you with big puppy eyes. He felt a tug in his chest once he realized you wouldn't be here with him forever. After years of being alone. He felt something he never thought he'd feel again Happiness.
As if on cue, you heard the faint crackle coming from your helmet that lay in the distance. You turn your attention to it however you notice something in the distance. A bright ball of flames sped towards the location where you crashed. It was a rescue crew.
"I need to get my helmet back and I need you to hide!" You quickly explain as you try to stand only to wince in pain once you move your leg. Your leg was still injured and you didn't want to risk Dogday being taken or worse...
"Dogday!" You exclaim as he quickly scoops you in his arms and floats you both back to where the debris lies untouched. He gently set you down and helped you put your helmet back on. You fiddled with your gloves, making sure they were still on securely. "Angel!" You glance in the direction of his voice, unaware he left your side. Your eyes widen once you notice he is much bigger than before, his body still shrinking to the size you had seen him originally as he quickly float-walked closer to where you sat.
"Dogday?"
"Take!" He has a big grin on his face, and the green hue of his antennae grows brighter. You chuckle as you hold out your arm and he slips on a golden bangle that looks oddly familiar. You examine it once he lets out a satisfied hum.
"From this star home!" that's when it clicked, it was one of Saturn's "petals" as he refers to them. It radiated a soft glow and had a pleasant chill. Now one of Saturn's rings somehow rests comfortably on your wrist.
"Stay..." His eyes began to tear up, you motion for him to lean down and gently place a gloved hand on his face.
"I have to go. Thank you for this." You stated softly as you stroked his cheek with your thumb. A sad smile crept up on his face as he tapped your helmet. You close your eyes as a soothing sensation washes over your body.
Once you opened them Dogday was gone.
You look around for him but instead, you spot a figure above you. It was them, they had arrived. The rescue crewmates began to help you back to their ship. They made sure you were in stable condition and treated you with what they had on board. No human could've survived what you just did yet here you were alive. You look out the small window, watching Saturn become smaller and smaller at a rapid pace.
The sound of chatter began to drown out as you slowly began to succumb to tiredness. The adrenaline wore you out and the only thing that filled your body now was pain. An orange fuzzy face that startled you as it stared at you. It was Dogday! You wave at him and flash him a warm smile. His face was covered in tears and his lips quivered as he waved at you sadly. He pushes himself away and watches as you fly back to your home planet. Even though your time together was short you can help but feel a tug in your chest.
Little did you know you had just been courted by the lonely dog-alien.
A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed! I want to get back to being active again so send in those requests! here's all the characters i write for currently!
#Dogday x reader#dogday x y/n#sunnyangel#dogday#poppy playtime#poppy playtime x reader#Smiling critters dogday#dogday poppy playtime#alien x reader#alien x human#bun z writes
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(X-Men #14, Fall of the House of X #1, X-Men #1 - 2024)
So one of the things that I've been wanting to blog about since I went back to my origins to be a full on Cyclops-centered comics blog again, is how delightful (and maybe a bit delightfully dysfunctional) I find the modern Jean Grey and Scott Summers relationship.
You probably have an idea of where this is going already, given the number of top/bottom jokes I've made about the two. (Technically they're probably domme/sub jokes, but it's funnier to use the other terms. Also, I'm pretty sure they engage in telekinetic pegging.)
So I'm putting it behind a cut, because it's long and rambly, and with additional scans. But nothing in it should be a surprise.
Anyway it really is genuinely fascinating to me.
First of all, I'm very happy with the modern, and I think ORIGINAL, interpretation of the Jean Grey - Phoenix relationship, where the Phoenix is, always has been, and always will be, a part of Jean Grey herself. I always thought the possession/replacement story was unnecessary, and it's far more interesting to look at it as Jean all along.
But more importantly, given my focus, is that I'm delighted at how this has shaken out into this absolutely fascinating Goddess-Mortal dynamic between these two characters.
I chose the panels that I did for this post, because I feel like they really illustrate Scott's side of their relationship dynamic. You have poor Jean, who fears her power and what she might do, and constantly tries to atone for the damage she'd done in the past when she'd lost control of herself* (and I want to get back to the Dark Phoenix Saga, in a bit). And then you have Scott, whose reaction to the fact that his wife is maybe the most powerful being in the universe appears to be "my wife can beat up the entire universe, and it is fucking awesome!"
I mean look at these panels. The first one is from Judgment Day, a story that could prompt so much meta in its own right. We've seen how the Progenitor works at this point - he judges the vast majority of people and finds them wanting. A lot of times the root of his judgment seems to be based either on the character's own guilt and sense of failure (see e.g. Steve Rogers and Matt Murdock), or their complete apathy and disinterest in improvement (see: Charles Xavier). Scott seems like a sitting duck for the first kind of judgment: he IS prone to self-hatred and is haunted by his bad decisions and mistakes.
But he does something unexpected: he denies that the Progenitor has any right to judge him at al. He's willingly given that authority to only one person. And she's not here right now. And he PASSES.
Sadly, the Progenitor does end up throwing this back onto Jean during HER test:
(A.X.E. - X-Men #1)
Sadly, Scott's dead right now and not really able to clarify. But we as readers can go back and look at that top panel. That is not a man who is petrified of his wife. He may well sleep in the lair of the red dragon, but he LIKES it that way.
Basically, Scott Summers passed his Judgment Day test for being a massive submissive. And I love that.
And we see the "only my wife can judge me/would you like to meet her" thing again when Scott's on trial in Fall of the House of X.
And it's fascinating in context, because only a few issues before, he and Jean were on the outs, and she basically DOES judge him:
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(It's probably wrong how hot I find it when she holds back his powers like that. It's like power-bondage or something.)
Anyway, this is from X-Men #23. In two issues, he'll be captured. She'll be DEAD. And everything goes straight to Hell. And yeah, they've implicitly resolved their issues before hand (since he's agreeing to leave the X-Men with her in Hellfire Gala), but it's still very sudden.
But in that panel, up there, he has no doubts at all. They were on the outs. She's dead. He's been tortured. And still, facing a kangaroo court, he's completely unwavering in his faith in her.
It's lovely.
Sentimentality aside, the key takeaway here is that he's not afraid of her. Even now, when she's fully integrated her power and is up in space re-igniting stars, he's not afraid of her. I'm actually not sure if he was even afraid of her in the Dark Phoenix Saga. Afraid FOR her, yes. And he certainly recognized when she lost it and tried to talk her down (and seemed to be succeeding, until Xavier interrupted!).
We do see, at one single point, Scott express any kind of feeling of inferiority to Jean. And that's in that truly delightful From the Ashes, Infinity storyline where, when she's freeing him from telepathic captivity, he shows her the hidden files in his mind - how he'd fantasized about them growing old together, and how he knows that won't happen now.
(I love the infinity comics, but it's so hard to blog with them, you know?)
But yeah, Scott's one point of vulnerability with regard to the inequality in their relationship has nothing to do with power. He just doesn't want to be forgotten.
So anyway, I included the last scan because, vulnerable issues aside, overall, he really does seem to enjoy the fact that his wife is the more powerful cavalry, who'll happily come to save and/or avenge him and is very happy to use that against anyone he wants.
It's cute and even a little childish in a fascinating way. "My dad can beat up your dad." Only it's wife, instead of dad.
(Look, I've already done the meta about Scott Summers dating people who parallel his many abusive father figures. The fact that both Emma Frost and Jack Winters have unbreakable diamond alternate forms ALONE...well...)
But we are talking about a man who hadn't really been a child since the day his parents' plane crashed, who bounced from abusive situation to abusive situation, without any hope of rescue (even from the father who was STILL ALIVE in space somewhere). It must be an incredibly heady feeling to be able to say, "YES, my wife is bigger than you and will ALWAYS come to save me."
It might be a bit of a gender subversion on the whole historical romance novel premise of the abused servant girl getting to run off with the warlord who would kill everyone who looked at her wrong.
(I also suspect there's an element of "Okay, fuck it. Everyone's blamed me for everything for so long, including me, that I'm just going to bend over and let HER punish me. And that's IT.")
As for what Jean gets out of the deal, well, she's got someone who will never be afraid of her, who admires every time she lets loose with her power, and thinks she's beautiful and amazing, and helps keep her connected with her past, her self and humanity, not by trying to rein her in, but by providing her with basic human comforts (like an unnecessary space ship), simply to make her happy.
Let's just hope that nothing ever happens to him. Because, well, as I've said before, the thing that most adaptations miss about the Dark Phoenix Saga, is that it's never been about a woman being too powerful for anyone's good. It's about a woman who gets repeatedly gaslit, manipulated, mentally fucked around with, who then watches the man she love get hurt and (apparently) die without being able to do anything about it.
...well, I'm a whump fan who likes seeing powerful ladies wreak havoc to rescue hurt and vulnerable men. So I know what I would like to see happen...
#scott summers#cyclops#jean grey#phoenix#this might be an incredibly incoherent relationship manifesto#I couldn't actually think of an ending for this so there you go#that man can't top a pool deck
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Tsukasa's Winter Uniform
Many people forget, but Tsukasa has appeared in TBHK since the very first chapter. He even shows up before Kou, less you count the pilot adaptation.
The odd thing is, despite Tsukasa later confirming he only wore the winter uniform to match his older brother, Tsukasa shows up in the winter uniform much earlier than their fated rooftop encounter. About a month earlier, at least.
If that weren't enough, he even shows up wearing it in the reflection of Hanako's knife, implying he wore it when he died.
Previously I guessed this was done because AidaIro hadn't finalized the designs of Amane (specifically, alive!Hanako) and Tsukasa yet, but upon further reflection I like to think it was to wordlessly show the deep connection between Hanako and Tsukasa. To leave hints for the reader, and keep them second-guessing.
I mean, who's to say the character handling the radio in Chapter 1 wasn't Hanako? It's unlikely with what we know now, but it's something a lot of people probably thought when they first read it. And I think that's kind of brilliant, given that the twins are mirror images of each other in everything except clothes. When we can't see Tsukasa's identical face, it only makes sense to give them the same clothes.
It's interesting when Tsukasa first shows up on the rooftop, too. Tsukasa has a few differences between himself and his twin, but in this encounter he shares much of the same traits. He lacks his pointy teeth and you can't even see his eyes till the end, which don't even look particularly Tsukasa-like.
The only true major difference is his kokujoudai and the black seal, which really lack any individuality at all... they are just black-colored versions of Hanako's own seal and tsueshiro. It's a very interesting choice; the least I can say is Tsukasa really went all out in matching his brother.
In some ways, it's a bit underwhelming for his face reveal. In others, it's not: I mean, Hanako's murder victim literally shares his face! What a compelling surprise! I can only imagine AidaIro was trying to emphasize this.
Later, Tsukasa returns to the broadcasting club room and catches up with Natsuhiko and Sakura. This is where his individuality begins to shine.
He changes into his hakama outfit, his pupils get tiny or his eyes go completely black, and while not every panel has them he's drawn with his signature pointy canines in a few.
His personality changes, too. You get to see Tsukasa's more childlike, innocent side. He's so much more serious when he's with Hanako, you feel a lot of tension and maybe even resentment there. But here, he becomes so carefree. While the rooftop has him feeling more like a spectre of Hanako's guilt rather than his own person, here it really sinks in that this is not just some recolored Hanako we're dealing with.
On that note, I find it interesting the twins seem more carefree when they're away from each other... hmm...
Anyway, one thing I like about this era of Tsukasa is the art AidaIro made of him. I'm a big fan of early TBHK art, and the matching baggy winter uniforms really look nice together.
I like how this art emphasizes a sort of perverted sentimentality between the two of them. They can't help reaching out to each other. I like how Hanako distinctly doesn't look happy either, something Tsukasa inquires when they meet again. He looks distressed, helplessly so. And he is: he can't break away from his guilt of killing Tsukasa, nor Tsukasa himself, who is content to keep eating away at him while he still can, knowing Amane will be his doom. It's mutual self-destruction--They can't live with each other, can't live without each other...
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My love for chapter frontispieces aside, thanks for reading this far! I used to not have much appreciation for Tsukasa's winter uniform but I've come to love its symbolism a lot more as time has gone on. Perhaps I'm reading too deep into things, but what do you think?
Also before anyone tries to tell me the Chapter 17 frontispiece isn't Tsukasa allow me to introduce you to the top right corner:
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This advice leaves me floored. If I read these panels a few years ago, who knows how my college journey could have gone.
A workshop class of mine had an assignment similar to the one in Blue Period where I had to discover a poetry collection of my liking. Then, I had to write a few poems in conversation with the author and a written response mixing analysis of the collection and the thought process behind my poems. Once that part was submitted, the class gave a brief presentation of their project. My confidence throughout the course was low for a few reasons. I've never been well-read in poetry but took an upper-level course out of necessity, thus being surrounded by smart, earnest, and more experienced peers. Furthermore, I knew a classmate secretly found me obnoxious towards the end of the previous semester in another workshop class, making me paranoid about whether I misread the quality of goodwill of my most basic actions and if many others felt a similar, justifiable distaste towards me.
Nothing felt quite right after sampling a list of collections recommended to me by my professor based on my style. I settled on one where some poems clicked, some didn't. Here's where the third reason for my insecurity kicked in: it was poetry within my home region—a place I have a complicated relationship with.
A hatred of where I grew up made the idea of escaping to an out-of-state college attractive, but lack of funds and merit landed me in an in-state university. Instead of being bitter about it, I changed my approach. I acknowledged that I was possibly an edgy young adult who needed a change in perspective from more like-minded people, leading figures, and academics within the region to truly appreciate my home.
That hunch still doesn't have a great answer (especially since I didn't follow my intended approach with as much determination as I should have), but my efforts led to a weird yet relevant consequence: the exposure to differing attitudes and perspectives from my own made me feel like an outsider to the very place I grew up in. Identifying and calibrating any of those people's attitudes and experiences with my own felt like a struggle, and knowing their prestige made me question the authenticity and accuracy of my self-concept. Putting my feelings into terms used by Blue Period, I feared that my perspective was no better than (and the same as) a tourist despite being a local my whole life.
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The same self-skepticism crept in when analyzing my chosen poetry anthology. Inevitably, a fork in the road laid before me: do I express antagonism despite my ignorance in the field, the possibility of furthering distaste upon me amongst my peers in my resistance and implied negativity, and a cultural image that seemed so firmly established to where it threatened to undermine my own; or do I commit to an effort in understanding the work so deeply that it surrenders my ego?
The first option… I couldn't bring myself to do it… It felt too arrogant. All those fears compelled a conclusion that there must have been something wrong with me that needed to change. As a result, I tried to put myself in the poet's shoes by mimicking the collection's style. I thought that could have allowed something to click and, if not, I was at least maintaining respect for the poet.
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My professor gave feedback on my submission. It's essentially the same idea Blue Period teaches and warns its readers about, with added salt to the wound of the implication that my presentation still hinted ambivalence despite not wanting to. Here's the screenshot:
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Did Blue Period allow me to understand the meaning of my professor's advice? A final project for the course required revisions of a few poems of choice out of a variety written throughout the semester. I picked one of the poems from this assignment since a route for improvement looked clear. Despite understanding what my professor meant, the real possibility that those changes were motivated by catering to the one deciding my grade for the course erodes any confidence towards the ideal interpretation of substantiating a newfound maturity in my artistic approach. To clarify, I'm not criticizing my professor—the fact that she identified the repercussions of my problematic approach feels like a miracle. Yet, reading these recent Blue Period chapters let me go a layer deeper.
It's not a straightforward lesson, though. My story doesn't quite align with Yatora's, and identifying the differences allows me to learn from the story with more nuance. Yatora loves Bacon and knows more about him, contrasting with my attitude towards my poet of choice. More pressure was put on me in this regard, for there is a more unsavory aspect in criticizing a poet one has no real attachment towards versus one whom respect has already been made clear. My professor also notes a silver lining that comes with a willingness in trying learn from an author that one doesn't gel with.
Furthermore, Blue Period likes to show how complex and ambivalent navigating through the world of art can be, so I can't dismiss the possibility of the manga throwing a wrench in what seems to be one of the series' most straightforward lessons in a later chapter.
There's great comfort in being able to relate to something I thought was, if not nonexistent to others, left unsaid. Being able to capture this feeling is a testament to the realism in the manga's exploration of art and character work. Blue Period gives a reassurance and almost ironic realization that, even if I struggle to relate to stories near where I live, I can identify with even the most niche feelings and circumstances in stories on the other side of the world.
If I could have done things differently, avoiding antagonism still would've been the right choice, but I'd be looser in how I drew inspiration from my selected poet. Funnily enough, this stumble and the subsequent lesson could have been avoided. I initially disqualified a different recommended poetry collection (i.e., Obit by Victoria Chang) due to it only being accessible digitally. I read it a little before the course ended anyway and loved it. It's tough to call whether how things turned out was the most enriching path compared to a hypothetical scenario where I found and chose Obit instead, but I'd like to think so.
#blue period#yatora yaguchi#tsubasa yamaguchi#blue period manga#ryuji ayukawa#blue period 68#blue period 67
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"Lance," Keith sounds breathless. "Back when we found my lion - the glowing symbols. What did you say about it?"
Lance is still staring hard at where Keith's hand rests on the control panel's screen, face scrunched in disbelief. "That is was written in code?"
Keith shakes his head. "No, no, about the Galra not being able to find it because of something to do with quintessence."
Lance's brow furrows further as he tries to recall what all he said so long ago, then his eyes flick up to meet Keith's. "Um? They were directions - quintessence infused." His lips purse as he tries to list everything. "The inscriptions would only be revealed in the presence of an Altean."
Keith removes his hand from the panel and the stars wink out. He strides toward Lance, mind racing. "Lance," Keith exhales. "I saw similar symbols back on Earth. Back when Hunk, Shiro, Pidge and I found the Green Lion in the cave."
Lance's eyes are flicking rapid-fire between Keith's, "But I wasn't there with you that time."
Keith grips Lance by the arms, hands squeezing tight. "Then why did the cave still light up?"
Lance almost looks as if he's stopped breathing.
Keith shifts his hold from Lance's arms, to hold his face. "The whole time I've been amazed at how much a couple of aliens look like us humans," Keith presses his forehead to Lance's, "but maybe I should've been thinking about how much we look like you."
And Keith can see it - in Lance's face - the moment the full meaning of everything clicks, and then Keith's being crushed in a bone-breaking hug. A wet laugh finds its way into the crook of Keith's neck. "Allura and I weren't the only ones to survive."
Keith raises his arms to squeeze Lance back just as tightly and buries his nose in his hair. "I think we're gonna need another look at the cave back on Earth."
A little glimpse at the Humans-are-the-crossbreed-descendants-of-Alteans-that-fled storyline reveal. I tried to layer so many hints and foreshadowing throughout the fic, and the reveal was just so satisfying to write. Idk if it’s been done before (probably) as I joined this fandom wayyy late but this AU is clogging all my brain space. I’m feral. If you ask me, I will scream your ear off about how this fills a ton of plot holes in canon and strengthens some of the choices made by different characters. Actually, I’ll rant about it on the next post since it’ll be the last batch of artwork for the fic. I’m so excited to draw more stuff within the AU. I just have so many thoughtsssss about how everything connectsssss ahhh
Fic: Sure and Indelible on AO3:
#klance#keith kogane#lance mcclain#altean lance#voltron#vld#voltron legendary defender#black paladin lance#fanart#fanfic#sure and indelible
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unnamed monster & caretaker au
Tasked with feeding and caring for the king's resident monster, Tommy is constantly overworked and fully expects to die before he's twenty. He has an odd relationship with the beast and makes it a point to keep details about himself private, but it's difficult when the creature is the closest thing in the world he has to a friend.
wordcount: 2.3k 🕸 read it on AO3
CW: - hard vore mention - soft vore mention - mentioned abuse and dehumanization
‼️‼️‼️ Unfinished, unedited one shot. Proceed with caution
@gracideaviolet sent me a writing prompt and this is what i originally wrote for it. i like the concept but i wrote this at a not-good time and when i reread it, i didnt like the quality enough to fix it. if you like this story, let me know cuz that might give me motivation to properly finish this thing. feel free to take the idea but please credit and send it to me cuz i like this story and wanna see what someone else does with it
Tommy finished loading the cart and took a second to breathe.
He heard the beast shifting around in the dark. "Are you doing okay out there, Sunshine?"
Despite his tiredness, the sweet nickname made him smile.
"You know you eat a lot? It's a pain in the ass to load myself."
He meant it as a joke but silence hung in the air a second longer than it should have.
He cleared his throat. "I don't mind it. I'm compensated."
The beast snorted. "Not enough."
Tommy laughed awkwardly and didn't say anything.
He walked over to the control panel and started up the track.
The cart was big enough to fit a barn, and filled to the brim with various livestock, prisoners of war, and whoever else might have found themselves on the king's hit-list. Nothing sent to the monster was alive. It was a point the monster whined about a lot, but Tommy much preferred it that way. It was already disgusting having to spend hours upon hours piling the cart with bloody meat (sometimes human!) by himself, and the day he was handed a living person would be the day he faked his death and fled the kingdom.
He pressed a few buttons, tried not to cut himself on several rusty levers, and the rail obediently started itself up with a few revs and puffs.
The beast hummed contentedly at the noise.
The cart began to run along the track, disappearing from his view and descending into the inky black cave. He heard the gate creak open and he heard it creak close. And then he heard the beast begin to eat.
They weren't nice sounds by any stretch of the imagination - ugly rips and wet squelches of flesh - but Tommy had been at the job for a while and was long used to it. He settled in and waited for the creature to finish its meal.
"So how was your day, Keeper?"
Tommy hummed. "About the same as it always is. My master told me that the king will be coming in soon for a performance review, but I've no idea when that might be."
The beast paused its munching before hesitantly starting again a moment later. "I - why?"
He shrugged, assuming the monster could see him from the dark. "Something about me holding down this job the longest out of anyone before."
"Hm."
"I don't understand why that would intrigue the king. And no offense to you personally - "
"Uh huh," the monster sarcastically interjected -
" - but this isn't exactly the career path I'd have chosen. If I knew how to transfer I probably would have. Honestly - I have no idea how the others could have quit this job. I was under the impression that this is the sort of thing you do until you die."
It laughed at that.
Tommy sighed.
He was quiet for a few moments, a question sitting heavy on his tongue.
He shouldn't ask. It's impolite.
The monster shifted around. "Spit it out."
He gave the darkness an accusatory look. "I don't know what you're talking about."
There was a huff of laughter. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You're doing that thing where you want to say something but are worried about what I'll think. It would be adorable if I wasn't desperate for decent conversation."
"Fuck you." He said it with a smile.
"Well? Are you going to say or not?"
He scrubbed at his face. Fuck it. "What were your other keepers like?"
The beast went silent for several long moments.
Shit. "You don't have to answer if you - "
"I didn't much care for them."
Tommy didn't say a word.
"The feeling was mutual." It sighed heavily. "You're a much better replacement, Sunshine."
"I'm sorry for asking."
The beast purred. "Don't be, dear. I pressed you. And I don't mind answering." It jostled the cart. "And I'm done eating."
Tommy nodded and powered up the control panel again. The cart began to recede.
It appeared from the darkness, picked completely clean and shiny as if it never been covered in blood at all.
It scared him a little, how quickly the monster could eat such a large amount, but he dismissed those thoughts as easily as they came. When would that ever affect him?
He checked the clock. He still had a few hours before he had to report back. "Do you mind if I stay with you longer?"
The monster laughed conspiratorially. "Oh, but that's against the rules," it said in a high mockery of his voice.
He flushed.
He had been terrified of the monster when they first met. He gave any excuse to leave the beast as soon as he could, including that the rules specified that spending unnecessary time with it was prohibited. That was true, but no one would have known if he chose to linger. In hindsight, it had been terribly obvious how afraid he was and he's only embarrassed that the monster pretended to believe him.
"You're the worst."
"And you still want to spend time with me?"
Tommy blew a raspberry at the darkness, earning a few laughs.
It was comfortably quiet for a few seconds before the monster spoke again. "Why are you curious about my old keepers?"
He tugged at his fingers. "Do you know how I ended up here?"
"You never talk about it."
He frowned. "And I never will," he responded coldly. It never gave up asking. "But do you know, generally, how someone ends up working this kind of job?"
The monster was quiet. "Yes."
Tommy didn't say anything for a minute. "The king is very angry with me. I don't want to see him again. However the other keepers escaped..." He shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know what I'm saying. If the king requests an audience with me, it isn't for any good reason."
~
When the king acquired his monster, he hired out help to feed the thing and keep it under control. He made sure the beast ate lavishly, but now matter what they fed it, it never seemed like to satiate the creature. But it hadn't died of starvation and that was good enough. When its caretakers started to disappear, it wasn't difficult to guess what happened.
But acknowledging the problem would mean addressing it too, and the king simply didn't care. In the end, he realized he had the perfect way to quietly do away with those he needed gone. He sourced this job, with its one hundred percent rate of 'job abandonment' to political adversaries or people growing affluent enough to take his throne.
Which takes him to the present day, and a rather interesting problem.
When some servant boy had spilled a bottle of red wine down his front during a gala several years prior, the king had been so angry that he threw the child in a dungeon and left him there. When the monster's then-keeper inevitably disappeared, the king came to the boy and grimly informed him of his punishment.
He hadn't expected the child to last more than a couple of days. He'd even picked out his replacements.
But lo and behold, the boy remained present at his job post for a week. And then that week became several, and those several became months, and those months became a year and a half.
The king couldn't understand why it hadn't eaten him yet. He was fifteen at this point, certainly the youngest to feed the monster. Was it waiting for him to grow up? Did it want to watch him sprout up before it made its attack? It was perfectly sentient, and the king knew this even though he denied it upfront. Shouldn't the monster trust that the sooner it finished its current keeper, the sooner he would be replaced by another?
Had there been someone who had managed to bring this creature to subservience? If so, then the king took special interest.
And if not, then it was long overdue that the servant boy be put to death.
~
Being a human's lapdog wasn't a dignified experience, but it was a fed one. Driders were megafauna, making it hard to get enough food. It certainly didn't help that the human kingdom believed everything was its rightful property and saw driders as a threat to them owning more than they could eat.
Wilbur certainly didn't enjoy his life, and he was almost always hungry anyway, but at least he was alive.
He lived in a dungeon below the castle, but he wasn't sure what a castle was and he barely understood the concept of a dungeon. He hadn't seen the sunshine in years, and his keeper was his only company.
He liked his keeper. The boy was kind. He didn't threaten to pee in Wilbur's food or throw rocks at him. He asked him how his day was, and even made it a point to handle the meat carefully as he transported it into the cart. He seemed lonely, and made up excuses to stay. He was a cute little thing, and Wilbur wanted to stick him into his brooding pouch and keep him there.
~
The cart rolled into Wilbur's enclosure, and he greedily snatched it up and began to eat.
His keeper sat at a table in the light.
Wilbur finished his food in a few seconds and toyed with the cart. He always made it seem as if it took him longer to eat than it did.
"Do you have a family?"
The boy froze at the question. "Why do you ask?"
Wilbur pouted even though he knew he couldn't be seen. "We've known each for so long. I don't even know what your name is. Can't I know just a little?"
His keeper awkwardly laughed, fidgeting with his fingers. "Oh... I guess you're right."
Wilbur's heart leapt.
"I don't have a family."
"Oh." Shit.
"Yeah."
What was he supposed to say?
"I don't have a family either."
His keeper peered into the darkness. "What are you?"
Wilbur smiled. He skittered to the bars of his cage and leaned against them, towering over the boy, though he had no idea. "Would you like to play twenty questions?"
"You're so lame, seriously, what are you? I don't even know what you look like."
I could show you, he wanted to say.
Coming out of his cage was easy. The king assumed it could hold him but no one actually checked. And aside from his keeper, no one had been in his dungeon for years. In reality, the bars had long been bent open and Wilbur could get out whenever he pleased.
It wouldn't be difficult to come through the bars and present himself to his keeper. Pick the little figure up in his hands and take him into his cage with him.
When he'd eaten his previous keepers, they'd always been replaced. If he captured his current keeper and stored him away in his brooding pouch, then he'd never be lonely again.
It was tempting.
"That's probably for the best," he said. He stepped away from the bars of his cage and curled up on the floor.
He liked his keeper. He wanted him to be happy. Just because Wilbur was stuck in a cage didn't mean he had to be as well.
"Do you think I'd be scared of you?"
Wilbur looked down at himself, at his large stature and eight legs. His fangs came down to his mid chin. "I think you'd be terrified, dear."
His keeper smiled. "I don't think so. I have a suspicion that you're just harmless."
His heart melted. Oh stars, he wanted to eat this kid.
He massaged his aching brood pouch. "You're sweet, Sunshine."
~
The cart was left in his cage while he was sleeping. He woke up confused, spying it in the corner of his enclosure and wondered why he'd been fed overnight. Where was his keeper? His mind jumped to the worst conclusions.
He found him inside the cart. Bound and gagged and looking terrified beyond all reason.
"Oh, Sunshine," he murmured.
His words had the opposite intended effect, his keeper starting to panic and writhe at the sound of his voice.
"Hey, hey... Calm down, okay? I'll get you out of there." He reached into the cart and picked him up in his hand.
Despite the circumstance, his heart soared. This was the closest they'd ever been.
The figure was tiny in his palm, and still struggling.
Wilbur quickly undid his bounds, being mindful of his sharp claws against the human's body. As soon as his hands were free, he was clawing at the gag around his mouth.
"Don't eat me! Please, do not eat me..."
Wilbur's stomach dropped.
"What? Sunshine, why would I eat you?"
The boy continued to sob.
Wilbur cupped him to his chest and headed towards the bars of his enclosure. He expertly clambered through and came out the other side, his skin exposed to the light for the first time in more than a year.
"Dear? Can you talk to me?" He stroked his head with his thumb and brought him eye level. "Why were you in my feeding cart?"
His keeper stared at him in shock, and it was then that he remembered his keeper had never truly seen him before.
A hot wave of embarassment and self consciousness overtook him.
He awkwardly set his little human on his table and receded back into his enclosure.
"Sunshine?" He prompted once back in his cage. "Are you..."
"Could - could you get out the whole time?"
Wilbur's mouth went dry. "I - well, yes, I could but - "
His keeper stumbled off the table and hit the ground with a nasty sounding crack.
Wilbur sprang to his claws and scrambled forward. He popped his head out between the bars and stared down at his little keeper. "Are you okay?"
The human stared up at him with terror on his face and scrambled backwards, running for the door.
"Shit, shit, wait, I'm sorry! Please stay, please, Sunshine - "
The door slammed behind him with a resounding crack and Wilbur flinched backwards.
~ ~ ~ 🕸
i used to love drider aus back in 2020 🕷️🕷️🕷️
just a freaky little guy whose half dude and half Fear. potential off the charts.
my tag list got lost when my computer was annihilated (</3) but let me know in replies if you want to get @'d and i'll make a new one
oh yeah link to the writing prompt and story i did fill out
#nobody answers#nobody writes#mcyt g/t#mcyt gt#giant!wilbur#tiny!tommy#drider!wilbur#human!tommy#vore mention#writing prompt#unfinished writing#gracideaviolet
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I went to library con (lol its not called library con but thats what i called it. Its American Library Association Annual which is funny bc they call it ALA and I was like...that shitty anime con???) this week in san diego to promote the comic I worked with Terry on "Eat your Heart Out"
I got jumpscared seeing the big banner. My art has never been on anything bigger than art center presentations lmao
We handed out signed copies and it was honestly pretty fun. I have a ton of bookmarks as well if anyone wants one.....if you can find me in real life LMAO
I also got to be on a PANEL like a big professional lmao And met Josie Campbell an animation brethren and we were like "LETS GO TAG! LETS GET THOSE NEGOTIATIONS!!!!" (Reminder that The Animation Guild is due to negotiate with studios in August so please support us!!!)
Downside was is that some of my sunburns are still really fresh (most of them are in gross peeling stage and some are...kinda painful) so I was a bit sweaty and uncomfortable...and now I'm paying for it bc i feel really under the weather.
BUT. lol my issues aside (it was my own damned fault getting burned the weekend before)
It was really fun!
Librarians are really cool lol Especially since I tried to get into that field during my unemployment last year and a half it was interesting hearing what they had to deal with as Librarians for children or teens (The teen librarians kept talking to me about Slam Dunk and One Piece *u*)
There's also this huge emphasis for book sellers in getting your books IN libraries. Books in actual physical libraries does so much for the value of payments of the book (which in turn pays the authors and artists that work on those books).
And how much librarians and libraries do for the industry as a WHOLE. I learned that back in the day when english manga was coming out they were binding the books REALLY SHITTY and its funny bc I DO remember that. The quality was really bad. And because librarians complained about it, because a book circulates through a lot of people rather than if you buy a volume for yourself, the book will get damaged really fast if the book is made poorly. So Viz had to change HOW they bound their books and you can definitely tell now how the quality is so much nicer.
Anyway it was really cool lol And also since it took place at the San Diego Convention center it was really cool to see what SDCC looks like when its not an absolute cluster fuck of people and noise lol I saw where I slept on the ground outside to get into Hall H and we were treated to a dinner at Roys which I'd only ever seen in passing lol (ALSO ROYS WAS SO EXPENSIVE!?!? And I thought the onigiri was like...the salmon went INTO the onigiri....so that was the dish. but it was...a ball of rice onigiri shaped with some salmon ...and it was REALLY good salmon and the misoyaki was good too but.....i was expecting really expensive onigiri and was oddly disappointed it wasn't....that.......anyway)
ANYWAY ANYWAY lmao. Our comic comes out in August 13! I've finally seen the finished product and it came out so well. Yknow that thing where you see your art from a few years ago and you want to crawl into a hole and die? Well lol I still feel that but also I don't because it honestly looks so good and its nice seeing it all in one whole place! The coloring came out really nice ! And I can't wait to see what Claudia did in the second half of the book
Oh yeah I also got a comped train ticket to get me down there and I got to ride the Amtrak which was pretty cool! I ...was EXHAUSTED on both trips down and back so I slept most of the way lmao But look at this guy!
Lol ALTHO I was genuinely surprised that when we came back from san diego the train just goes in reverse.
On shinkansen the seats on the train are able to turn around so you're always facing forwards. So it was a little disorienting at first. I also wished I had an ekiben on the way down.
Its cool I can get an ekiben in august when i go to japan lmao
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Haii! Okay so, I need Tetchou sumt. Like desperately. Please I don't give a fuck about anything else just Tetchou sumt, I'm begging.
Like on my knees beg for it. Lemme just fuck him senseless or let Jouno do it. I've got that one panel in mind and you know which one I'm talking about so like please, begging, Tetchou sumt bc he's so bbg and I'm desperate like I said before. Please and thank you ❤
Mickey :)
BOLD OF YOU TO SIGN THIS WITH YOUR NAME MY GUY- I LOVE YOU MAN BUT LIKE…YOUR CRAZY
I agree tho soooo hard tecchou is the finest man ever to ever. Yes. Sry this took months pookie I swear you sent me this in September and its also kinda short…whateverrrrrr its fineeeee ‼️💯🫶
Tecchou x male reader
Word count: 361
Warnings: none- I dont think so…use of the word “toy” once?
Tecchou didn’t know where to put his hands…
currently his head was in between your thighs, your cock shoved down his throat as he sloppily tried to suck you off.
Turns out that trying to suck your boyfriend off with zero experience was not as easy as it seemed, so he kept choking and gagging, not really knowing how he should move his head or use his tongue. Though every now and again he’d stare up at you with his pleading eyes, wanting to know if he was doing alright.
If he was pleasuring you well enough. And every now and again you’d let out a grunt and tell him what a good boy he is for taking you in his mouth so well. Though, Tecchou was going so slow and you just wanted to cum at this rate so you could flip him over and fuck him.
“Fuck…”
You whispered out as you grabbed him by the hair and pushed him down on your cock all the way. He gagged a bit looking up at you briefly before you started fucking into his mouth, using him like a toy.
“Your mouth feels so good, Tecchou…never fucking stop…”
You grumbled out as you kept fucking his mouth. He only moaned and whimpered around your dick as you only sped up. His little noises only vibrate against you, amplifying the pleasure. His eyes clenched shut, letting you use his mouth up, his legs only closing and rubbing together as he tried to relieve himself even with a small amount of friction.
You eventually let out a low moan as you came down his throat, he choked a bit as you pulled out, but he swallowed.
“Ah…you didn’t have to swallow that…”
You said with a small laugh as you looked at him, still panting, he just looked up at you with a fucked out gaze
“Mmh…I wanted too,”
He said.
You smiled at him before helping him to his feet, before throwing him down again against the bed.
“Hey…don't think I was just going to forget about pleasuring you too…I’ll make sure you won't be able to walk for a week, pretty boy,”
#bsd#bsd smut#bsd tecchou#suehiro tecchou#tecchou x reader#tecchou smut#smut#bungo stray dogs#male reader smut#male reader#tecchou x male reader#bsd x male reader
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Thoughts on JJK chapter 260 (spoilers)
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We get to see what Todo had hidden under his bandages and the reveal is both underwhelming because of its simplicity and absurdity (never heard of a vibraslap before in my life) and it's overwhelming because of the sheer mileage and fighting skill Todo can pull out of it.
Typical Gege move on that part. Take one CT and go into the nitty-gritty of its abilities even if it looks silly sometimes.
The vibraslap changes Todo's ability from clapping to making that sound that swaps people. The biggest change? He can now swap things about 50 times in a single second.
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This is the current fighting gang being swapped around in that second and I'm sure anyone else would throw up when subjected to that.
For reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with the end of the chapter, I've only now realized that Todo can swap Gojo too. He wouldn't be able to do anything against infinity though.
Just the same as when they tag teamed against Hanami and Mahito, those two Brothers™ are now going against Sukuna as well and Sukuna knows how bothersome and nearly impossible it is to fight effectively against (Re-)Boogie Woogie and he says himself that Todo came at an inopportune time.
The narrator says that Todo successfully transported the others out of MS so the question of Maki getting out is basically answered. She'll probably make a comment on that later on when she suddenly stabs Sukuna from the back again
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The animators are going to have their hands full with this part of the fight. For Gege it's also difficult to draw this kind of CT on static paper so he opted for those white lines to show where RBW was active.
Sukuna also jumped on air again and Todo had no idea how he did that. Why didn't Maki show them what that is about 🧐
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With all the debris, it was also difficult sometimes to understand the panels but here we have Yuji imitating a pillar while ramming himself into Sukuna
Later on Sukuna gets hols of Yuji's face with his giant hands, stuff I find extremely funny, but Todo saves Yuji before Sukuna can do something to him.
Then Sukuna makes a fatal mistake! He thinks he can outsmart 500,000 IQ Todo and fails miserably (RIP Mei-Mei's crow). Yuji gets another black flash in.
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Then Yuji grabs Sukuna's chest where his injured heart is and the chapter tries to deceive us at that point.
The "JJK ...ch.260/END" box appears and it looks like that's it for the week BUT we have one extra page left and that page starts HUGE with Sukuna making Gojo's handsign for his DE again and it ends even BIGGER with GOJO being BACK!!
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But hold on a second!
Can we be sure that this is Gojo? 🤔
Actually yes, because we have an entire catalog of clues on how he would've survived the World Ending Slash from Sukuna.
There still is the possibility that this is a trick that someone is playing against Sukuna though. Uro's CT of manipulating air might e.g. cause an illusion like this and even the narrator talks about a "spirit" which raises some questions.
But it's also said that his eyes are unmistakable and Sukuna himself seems convinced that he's the real deal.
I'm going to make a post on all the clues we got about how he survived and I'm going to refer to my original post on his survival from way back when he got bisected.
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Servamp Chapter 132 translation "To become gold"
The chapter is on Mangadex, however this post might not show up I used a link. After you read the chapter please check out the translation notes!
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It's been a long time, but I finally managed to finish up this scanlation that I've started while I was still working...Now that I've quit I can translate the remaining chapters.
So, one line in this chapter made me go crazy for how long I had to contemplate on its meaning and maybe I still didn't understand it, but I try my best to explain.
TRANSLATION NOTES
On the first page, you can see that some words were written in parenthesis, to distinguish the furigana readings from the other ones. The translations are based on the furigana.
過去 (past), furigana 思い出 (memories)
未来 (future,) furigana これから (from now on)
It was weird to see that Shirayuki uses the honorific "san" for Yumikage, but I think it's because the traditional ways of the Tsukimitsu family. Maybe it's more common with historical settings, which I haven't seen much of.
About one of Shirayuki's lines, because it wouldn't have made sense in English, I wrote "goodness!" in order to express that she was shocked about what she heard Yumi say.
He used the pronoun 俺 "ore" which is the informal "I" and that's what Shirayuki repeated. Because English cannot express the degree of formality regarding "ore" and other pronouns, I couldn't have make her say "I" in the translation.
Shirayuki apparently had a problem with Yumi saying "ore", but Iori also uses ore. Maybe it's because she was more stricter with Yumi because he was the youngest and Iori was too old to be reprimanded for his language.
I also had some difficulty with Miyako's line and I used a direct translation because haven't found much alternatives, so I used "no substance", which was primarily how I found the Japanese phrase translated.
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Some of you might have seen in dramas, anime/manga that teenagers who are delinquents would dye their hair blonde.
Because it's associated with being a teenager, I'm interpreting that Iori might have wished that he could enjoyed more of his adolescence like Yumi, because he was appointed the head of the family when he was eighteen.
Okay now, for the most difficult part I had with this chapter.
This is the page where I spent a few days trying to figure out what Hugh is saying because I can't tell precisely if he was speaking about Saint-Germaine or another subject in the panel before the last.
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I've tried to break down what Hugh says :
奴はそういう機構だとしか解釈できぬ。
What gave me such a hard time was the word 機構 (kikou) which means system, mechanism, organization, structure.
It was tough to figure out how to apply these meanings, so when I was looking trough definitions and examples with this word, I wondered if maybe Hugh was saying "That is the only way he works/functions", regarding Saint-Germaine, when explaining to Yumi.
If you recall from previous chapters, the word "system" which was written in katakana to transliterate the English word, that used for the Servamps, referring to their structure basically, how they work.
Among synonyms for 機構 (kikou) I have found 制度 (seido) which was used by Tsubaki when I believe it was the first time that the word "システム" (system) was mentioned in chapter 87.
So, it could be that Hugh is implying that Saint-Germains's can only be understood (interpreted) [しか解釈できぬ means "interpreted only /no other way] only possessing that kind of system to him, in other words maybe something like mondus operandi, which involves the stuff Hugh mentioned (projecting and interfering with reality).
Basically, he's defined only in a single manner, he's described as being dangerous, that's what Hugh is telling Yumikage.
Or I could totally misunderstands Hugh's word, because omg like I said, it was the most complicated line in the whole chapter for me to adapt *cries*
I'm sorry if what I tried to explain doesn't make sense ;;
That's all for this chapter, still have a few more to work on and because I never got to look over most of the dialogue in those ones due to the fact that I didn't had the time when I still had my job, I hope that I won't have to deal with such difficult lines.
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Rachel "Retcon" Smythe Strikes Again!
Okay, so I've been seeing pictures of Volume 4 of Lore Olympus floating around, and people are ALREADY FINDING RETCONS.
Most notably so far, some added panels in the Hades and Apollo confrontation that happens outside Artemis' house (when Persephone steals Apollo's lyre) in Episode 81.
This is the original scene, for anyone who needs a refresher:
Aaaand here are the panels that were added.
(all pictures of Volume 4 are courtesy @iwannagutyou on IG!!! thank you for giving me permission to use these! <3)
First of all, the art. It's so noticeably bad. You can tell Rachel has completely lost her ability to draw these characters in the S1 style, I'm fairly certain she took the panel of Hades from the old version and just copy pasted it to try and get around it (look at the posing) but it's incredibly obvious looking at that third panel that LO is not and can never be what it was back in 2017-2019. Those first two panels seem like they were copy pasted from the previous ones, which is just sad if those are the lengths she has to go to to come even close to replicating the older style.
Now, this just might be due to camera translation, it could very well look better IRL, but the colors just look so incredibly desaturated and the lines blurred out, to the point that people are doing double takes over whether or not panels have been directly changed - they haven't been, they've just been so sucked dry of their colors that they look off enough to cast suspicion.
If anything it's a harsh reminder that LO has kinda always had art problems, especially with its lazy humor and stupid meme faces.
Of course, to be fair, color loss can happen in print, but seeing how slapped together these books tend to be, I wouldn't be surprised if they just didn't put in the effort to convert the page art to CMYK or at least tinker with the saturation in editing some more to ensure it would come out more vibrant in print.
Now. Excuse me while I go on a bit of a crackpot rant here. Newbie puff pals beware, because this is gonna get dicey and you're about to learn where my tinfoil-hat rep comes from but I just have to talk about it.
Back to the added Apollo panels, where Persephone asks Hades not to hurt him and he looks nervous before she says "I just want him to leave".
Maybe it's just me, but it's a little weird that THESE are the panels they decided they needed to add. It's weird that she's asking Hades not to hurt Apollo when she's about to break into his car and steal his lyre just a few moments later. It's weird that the implication seems to be that she's referring to Hades' act of violence towards Tori... but Persephone doesn't know that's happened yet. So this feels like an unnecessary retcon that's doing more harm than good.
But I feel like the timing of this is kinda messed up as well, as this book released just days after the release of the last FP episode in which Apollo has his 'side' of the assault story told through his perspective, which is often considered a HUGE no-no in writing assault stories because it often comes with the implication that it's asking for empathy from the audience. We already know Apollo is delusional, we already know he thinks him and Persephone are meant to be despite her constant rejection of him, we didn't need a flashback from his own warped perspective explaining that very thing, the only purpose to do such a thing this late in the game would be to try and get the audience to 'connect' with him (it's giving S3 Bryce from 13 Reasons Why vibes). Now we have this scene of Persephone asking Hades not to hurt him (despite the structure of the episode being literally fine before, this change wasn't needed) getting snuck into the physical book release just a couple days after the newest FP tried to present Apollo in an empathetic light (and let me tell you, that's a whole essay and a half that I'll be getting into eventually).
Shit, if I wanted to get REAL Pepe Sylvia with it, I might say that hypothetically, the whole point of the random Leuce abuse episode - despite Persephone having no way of knowing what she attempted as Hades hadn't told her and she wasn't there to see it and we weren't shown her overhearing them in any way - and the following episode that was mostly padding of Hades and Persephone having sex - no consequences or follow-up whatsoever to the Leuce scene - was just to pad out the episode release schedule and buy time until the book came out so that Rachel could release that Apollo POV episode right before the book came out and revealed those new added scenes of Persephone asking Hades not to hurt Apollo, in what could be a sly artificial attempt at minimizing the SA plot so Rachel can finally just brush aside the one major plot point she regretted writing the most. After all, it wouldn't be the first time Rachel's controlled the pace of her comic to release certain moments at certain times that line up with IRL events.
But, y'know. I'm gonna quit on that thought while I'm ahead because it's probably making my credibility meter drop into the red. My ADHD has been real bad lately and it's really starting to show LMAO All ima say is that IDK who Rachel thinks she's fooling here, this kind of shit is stupid easy to fact check when the digital version of the comic is available online to read.
To end on a much funnier and lighter note, remember how Rachel tried to retcon the Demeter/Hera/Hestia relationship by changing the line "I miss my sisters" to "I miss my friends"? Well, there was one panel that had been missed in the webtoons version that still refers to them as sisters. You can still find this unedited line in Episode 78.
And uh. They forgot to fix it again for the book.
It's permanent now. That's permanent marker. It would have cost them nothing to find this in the webtoon version and fix it before it got sent to the book editors. Now it's gonna cost them thousands because the book editors didn't bother (or know) to check.
There's also this... weird shit going on with the speech bubbles. Like, they're REALLY FUCKING OVERDOING IT with the speech bubble outlines. I don't know who made this choice but it was a bad one. Gross. Don't do that. It looks so cheap.
But let's be real, at this point I feel like the book editors are just outright sabotaging Rachel because who the fuck calls themselves a professional when they do this shit-
Oh, and there's no bonus episode, just sketches. Which is fine. But it makes me chuckle to think that Rachel just didn't have time in her already razor-thin buffer to draw up a new episode to pass off as "cut content".
#i'm fired for that whole conspiracy bit aren't i#can you blame me when the wedding was lined up with valentine's day and dio's birth was lined up with mother's day#i swear to christ rachel does this on purpose it's so unhinged#just write a story#it doesn't make your comic 'deep' to line it up with real world dates that aren't gonna matter in 3 weeks anyways when they go up for free#it's just so unnecessary and pointless to do#lore olympus critical#lo critical#antiloreolympus#anti lore olympus
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Bette Kane: The original Batgirl and how her history never technically got retconned at all
So this is basically a repost from an old reblog I did but I doubt it's gonna get any traction so I've decided to post it here so more people can actually know about it. (I suggest actually reading what I wrote in the original thing cause there's some parts where I did at OP's comments and it'll look a bit weird here OOC)
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let's actually talk about that "continuity dependence" So Bette is regarded by most of the fandom as having only been Batgirl only in Pre-Crisis (some people also think that she just never re-appeared after 1967 but that's not true since she appeared as a key character in the ending three-parter conclusion to the 70s Teen Titans run which set up Titans West). As in, Bette has only ever been Flamebird Post-Crisis and Hawkfire Post-Flashpoint.
Something to explain the whole thing about how Bette became Flamebird, Marv Wolfman decided that the Titans West three-parter was canon and this wrote about it in the Secret Origins 1989 Annual. Except Babs was the first person to become Batgirl Post-Crisis which meant it couldn't be Bette (for some reason), thus the story was rewritten so that instead of being Bat-Girl, a competitive tennis named player Bette Kane joined the Titans West under the mantle of Flamebird (where she got the name, we'll never know). So basically, Post-Crisis Bette was never Batgirl, right? At least, not until that very small duration of time when Morrison brought back Kathy Kane, right?
Below is the following panel from Young Justice Issue #21 where Bette herself confirms she has been Batgirl in the past. (after the New Titans Secret Origins issue tried to make it seem like she'd always been Flamebird the entire time). Take not that she says this whilst fighting alongside the latest Batgirl, Cass Cain
ok, so that only means the between 1985-2000, Bette was never Batgirl. Except that's not true. I especially know it's not true because of a key story that I think a lot of Batgirl stans are familiar with. Say hello to Page 10 of The Killing Joke. Also known as Bette Kane's first Post-Crisis first appearance.
Wait, wait, wait. What are you saying? Are you saying that Bette's history as Batgirl was never erased with Crisis? Are you saying that the argument that Babs, Steph and Cass stans that "oh, but she doesn't count/oh, but she was written out of continuity" isn't true? That's not possible. Oh, you toxic autumn child. It was always possible. It was merely that the spoutings of Babs stans who were angry that she wasn't the first Batgirl were taken as gospel /j (that or just how low her appearances have been throughout her creation)
Now, that just leaves us with one final era to go: Post-Flashpoint. Now unfortunately, I don't have anything from New 52 that implies she was Batgirl and I can't take the whole contracted timeline thing as concrete either so I'll just say this: Bette is in the same boat as Steph and Cass in terms of their backgrounds as Batgirl being erased in the New 52 before reclaiming their histories back.
Now I do have evidence of Bette being Batgirl Post-Flashpoint - Dark Nights Death Metal: The Last Stories Of The DC Multiverse. More specifically, the story "Together" where it shows nearly every single Titans and Teen Titans member (along with some Fearsome Five, Project Defiance and Young Justice and weirdly missing Team Titans). On the bottom left hand corner, you can see cast of the 70s Teen Titans run which includes Bette Kane as Batgirl.
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And so there you go. Bette's history as Batgirl was never erased and is a legitimate member of the mantle as its originator.
If you sincerely think she doesn't count as Batgirl, I think you should go and take a deep look in the mirror and see for yourself what that speaks about you.
#Bette Kane#Batgirl#Bat-Girl#Flamebird#Barbara Gordon#babs gordon#Oracle#Stephanie Brown#Spoiler#Cassandra Cain#cass cain#Black Bat#Orphan#Teen Titans#Batfam#Titans West
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