#like in many many ways it's much better in the graphic novels??

[cassmouse]

I think I might want to write a 40 page essay comparing the representation of female characters in the Scott Pilgrim graphic novels vs the film

[angelisverba]

praise

in which y/n notices something isn't quite right with her professor, and harry loves chasing this little bunny

word count: 5.5k

pairing: vamp!h and y/n (but really it's more like professor!h with a side of vampire)

warnings: this fic contains graphic depictions of sex and blood.

author's note: happy late halloween!

When y/n was little, her mother always told her to stay inside on Halloween.

She never got to go trick-o-treating like the other kids because of this, not until she was old enough to pay for her own costume, but by that time it was too late because trick-o-treating turned into bar hopping and candy turned into drinks. She took part in these activities for as long as it took for her to figure out that she didn't like alcohol or big crowds or dressing up.

Also by that time, many of the holidays took place around the time that she was stressing about papers and exams and midterms and other deadlines a college students faces around the end of the semester. She was a dedicated, busy little bee with few friends that knew her enough to know that when she's focused, theres no getting her to come out for anything, so they didn't even extend invites.

Which is why she finds herself inside, at the library, on Halloween night. She has a little ear worm of Linus writing his letter to the great pumpkin running around in her brain, but that's as far as her spooky spirit goes. The rest of it is consumed in her paper about sublime notions of nature in the latest gothic novel assigned by her literature professor, Mr. Styles.

Had it been any other teacher, she wouldn't have lingered so much on grammar, word choice, or reading her paper over and over again so that her ideas were clear and concise, but... but there was something about him. She can't really but her finger on it, but a big part of it is fear. Intimidation. He's so... commanding in the way that he carries himself. Almost menancing, his figure carrying the threat of punishment.

He walked into the lecture hall everyday dressed like a model from a vintage academia magazine. Tweed bottoms. Button up shirts. Loafers. Sleek black shoes. A pristine silver watch on his wrist. A golden chain that twinkled on his neck and disappeared into the collars of his shirts like a shooting star. Slicked back chocolate brown hair from which a single curl sometimes escaped and swayed on his forehead like the hooked tail of a monkey. Tailored pants that accentuated the litheness of his hips perfectly so, making her wonder if he had them altered to fit him exactly. A badge on a simple, black attachment pinned on his hip spelled his name underneath a coyly smirking ID picture of his face; Harry Styles. 

So y/n had a little crush.

A silly little bundle of love-misted roses perched in her heart with a ribbon and a name tag that had her English professor’s name on it. 

She tried to tell herself that it was a school girl’s crush (it literally was), but it was hard to keep her daydreams cemented underneath the rounded realm of reality when her heart kept reading into every single little interaction she had with him, knowing that all her fantasies would only ever exist in her dreams because he was an employee. He was older than her. He would never be interested in a girl, a student, like her. His serious disposition did nothing to quell her. 

In fact, it almost egged her on. The perfectionist in her wanted to be perfect for him, so be praised by him for her hard work. She wanted so badly to be his teacher's pet that it reflected in her work ethic. Every paper she turned in was better than her last, she paid rapt attention in class, took the most intricate care in her notes. She always looked her best on the days she had his class- black ballet flats with black skirts, frilly socks, cardigans and collared blouses- ever the neat student. She's every professor's wet dream, she knows this.

Yet, the approval and validation that she craved. No, needed. The validation she needed from him was never given to her, no matter how hard she worked. The notes on her paper were always asking for more, she could do better, she could be more clear, she wasn't quite*getting it. And he always left a note that she should see him in his office hours.

But she couldn't.

Y/n was sure that she would spontaneously combust is she was in an enclosed one-on-one space with him. Which was funny because many of the female students fought for that time with him. One time she heard a few girls in her class say that they tried to call him by his first name and he told them that "it was Professor Styles or Sir to them". Just listening to it second hand was enough to have her squirming. The though it, to have his striking green eyes on only her, his gravely, accented voice directed at her. It was an intoxicating though.

She could imagine it.

He would sit on the other side of his desk in that suave way of his, ankle crossed at his knee, one hand resting on the arm of his chair while the other props his chin up as his finger taps against his sharp cheekbone. He would watch her with an unwavering, predatory gaze, like he's waiting for her to make a mistake to step in and correct her. Y/n would sit in the seat across from him, her hands under her thighs to keep from fidgeting, her lips wet with her spit from how much she'd chew on them, her eyes unfocused and struggling to keep contact with him. The silence in the room would probably be filled with her 'umm's and 'like'. She'd be so nervous, and he would see right through her, and all her hard work would be diminished to nothing.

And then she would probably cry and Professor Styles doesn't really look like the type to console his students, so y/n would just embarrass herself.

So she settles for putting her all into her work, tweaking what he's made notes on from previous papers, and hoping that it's enough, that one of these days she'll she exclamation points at the end of praise instead of at the end of 'explain this'.

With a weepy, overwhelmed sigh, y/n rubbed her fists into her eyes and ran words over and over again in her head. She was the last one in the library, the light from the lamp at her desk was the only source of illumination in her little study corner. This late into the semester the school didn't close libraries, opting to not get in the way of students and their work. It was nearing midnight, and she was getting tired, but this paper was due in two days and she wanted at least one to edit it.

A little delirious from lack of sleep and anger from how difficult this was all turning out to be, y/n blinked back tears. She was a little cold and she was hungry. But she was not going to leave until this paper was finished.

She would however close her eyes, just for a little while. Y/n put her head down on the desk, telling herself that she would only rest her eyes for a few minutes, that she was not going to fall asleep.

But like every college student that snoozes their alarm twenty million times because they're just going to rest their eyes for a few more minutes, she falls asleep.

She startles awake in the dark at the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.

When she jerks upright, Professor Styles is sitting across from her, reading her paper.

***

Harry is so fucking hungry, and he's looking for a snack. Maybe even a meal if he can get away with it.

He hasn't fed in nearly a month, and normally even two weeks is pushing it. But it was the month of October, and as the holidays neared and the parties increased, so did security and people's guard. It was extra hard to find a bite now, not the kind he liked.

Sweet, pure, and innocent. Untainted flavor.

A few days ago he managed to snag a few blood bags from the campus' blood drive center, but it wasn't enough. He craved the puncture, the warmth of a body in his arms, the fresh throb of a pulse underneath his tongue. He wanted the erotic writhing of struggle and submission against his body. Many of his kind didn't share their fondness for this part, but he loved taking care of them afterwards. Making sure they were okay, steady. Sated in the same ways he was. Being a vampire came with the ability of glamour, a bit of mind influencing, so that he was able to make the situation a little more favorable on his end.

He had decided to go for a stroll, having been caught up late in his office grading papers, when he caught a hint of something sweet and familiar in the night air.

It reminded him of one his students, y/n.

She always sat in the middle of the third row with perfect posture, listened to his lectures as if he was God. Her eyes would get mooney, and if he listened hard enough (which to him wasn't really that hard because he was a vampire, he had super human hearing) he could hear her heart beat faster in the seconds that his eyes held contact with her as he talked, delicate and quick like the wings of a hummingbird. Everything she turned in was perfect. She was smart but not pretentious in her way of writing, and something about the way she wrote reminded him about the tender inside of a wrist. Her wrist.

But Harry was mean, and he liked to tease, and he could tell that y/n was waiting. She was sitting on a precipice, hanging on to his very word, her body strung taught and stressed. She was waiting on him. He was going to make her wait until he did as he asked. He wanted one on one time with her, and until then, he wouldn't give her what she wanted.

Whether she realized it or not, she was teasing him, too. In ways that y/n probably wasn't even aware of. The way she bit her lips so they were bright with her blood right underneath the surface, the promise of her heat with every exaggerated sigh she let out as she walked out of his lecture hall. Her clothes, god they killed him.

She wore these black kitten heels once, and they drove him crazy.

Now, he knows his place as Professor, and he didn't just get this job to fuck around. He enjoyed teaching and knowing secretly that he knew first had about the things he was talking about. He loved seeing how his life was absorbed by the younger faces (not that he looked old, he would forever appear to be 23). He respected others, their will, their purpose, and only went as far as his moral compass would let him to take care of his needs.

But he was a man, and he could be brought to his knees by a pretty thing like y/n.

Harry remembers that day, how his trousers were uncomfortable and he had to spend the whole time behind his podium. How he needed to slyly inch a calculating hand to the ever-growing uncomfortable center of his groin and tug the snug fabric away from their vacuum-sealed hold on his hips. It was maddening for him, but uncomfortable for her (he thinks). She never wore them again, and he suspects they may have hurt her delicate feet if the way she kept shifting was anything to go by. 

Not that he noticed.

Harry most definitely did not notice that the tip of her toes kept tittering tenderly up and around in slow, hypnotizing circles, meant to relieve pent up tension. He most definitely did not notice that the way her frilly white socks kept sliding down the slope of her ankle with every movement. Or the tantalizing trekk of her delicate fingers against the curve of her thigh, behind her knee, and a little further where the pads of her lucky fingers dug into the soft, aching- he assumed- flesh of her calves. He didn’t fucking hold his breath and become stiller than a statue to try and to hear the sweet, breathy sighs of relief that left her parted lips. No, he did not. That would be a violation of the contract he signed upon assuming his position. It would be betraying the trust of the snarky, reluctant, port-belly head of academics that judged his ambiguous resume with reluctance.

Of course he didn’t. And he wasn’t the slightest bit disappointed that he never saw them again. 

This student of his had captured his attention this semester, almost distracting him. Her smell, from what he knows the few times he caught a whiff of it amongst all the others, was sweet, yet not overwhelmingly so. It was mellowed out and warm, and the closest thing he could compare it to from the food he had as a human, was apple pie. She was warm, sweet, honeyed, with the zest of cinnamon.

He wanted to taste her so fucking badly.

Harry doesn't know if it's because he's so hungry that he's smelling her now.

Trailing after the scent with his nose leading the way like a drooling dog, he wonders- no, he knows that he won't be able to fight the urge to taste her if it's really her he finds at the end of the line.

It gets stronger in the library, but from the looks of it, it's dark and empty. From the looks of it, but Harry knows better. He can hear better and smells better, and he knows she's in here. The swift intake of her breath rings in the silence, his ears picking up on the only human sound in the buildings. The near-silent whines that sit at the base of her throat and die before they exit through her nose.

Her hearbeat.

Calm. Steady. Alive.

It sounds like a drum, low and pounding and it thrills him.

He wants to hear it beat faster and faster, like a bunny when it's being chased. He wants to hear the even paced breaths become rapid and disorganized with heightened emotion.

He can smell her, too, the delightful aroma making his fangs itch and his loins ache. Walking further into the library, the stacks of books growing dense with sharp corners and cozy study nooks, he can trace the direct path she took to her spot- the table in the corner with the lamp still on. She has her head resting on her arms, hair haphazardly strewn across the wooden table and some papers, a pencil between her fingers still.

She probably set her head down after saying she was only gong to rest her eyes. She's probably been here for a really long time, he can hear her stomach growling. Shaking his head in disbelief, he pulls the chair back with a motion that's sure to wake her up at the same time that he pinches the paper with two fingers and begins to read.

Waking with a little gasp, y/n straightened. He could pinpoint the exact moment she became fully cognizant of what was happening because her heartbeat picked up in a way that concerned him, and she became utterly still. From the corner of his eye (Harry was reading her paper, a really good paper, and hadn't looked at her. Not even once) he could see her mouth open and close a few times, words escaping her. Y/n rolled the pencil between hands that had begin to perspire and began to chew on her bottom lip.

Internally, Harry groaned. He needed to get her to stop doing that because he was imagining things that no person is his position of power needed to be imagining and his cock was fattening against his thigh. He was hungry in more ways than one for her. A part of him wanted to mark her up like he was a dog and she was his chew toy, licking and sucking and biting on the sweetest parts of her to suckle on her blood; everywhere. The other wanted to do all of those things, and not just for her blood.

He had to get her to speak.

The paper that he held in his hands was probably the best that he was going to get from her class, or maybe all of them put together. The ideas were fresh with just the perfect amount of information from his lectured tossed in for a response to the prompt on the book they were currently discussing. But he had to keep playing his game with her, he had to see her fold like a ragdoll. He wasn't going to tell her what he truly thought about it, how it was so good, how she was such a good student, how she made him so proud. How she was a good girl.

Instead he put the paper down in front of her, crossed his arms and spread his legs in the chair to give his swollen dick some room and said, "you should go home. Have a meal. Go to sleep.”

At this her shoulders sagged, and it was like watching dominoes fall against each other to release different triggers, Her lips crumpled, her chin wobbled, and her eyes blinked away a sea of crystalline tears.

Y/n stared at him, a wet look that punched his gut at the same time that it made his gums salivate and his hips itch to thrust up against the desk like a thing in heat. He looked back at her, his head tipping slowly to the side to track her gaze as it dropped. Like a predatory, he observed her with the kind of stillness that promised a charge of action. That promised death in the maw of a killer.

Her mouth did that thing where it opened and closed again, sounds that came before actual words coming out of her, but never intelligible sentences. Her heart was racing, but her lungs were doing a weird thing. Like they weren't getting enough oxygen.

"Why don't you take a deep breath , hmm? And we can talk about what's going on here," he got up from his chair and stood at the side of his desk, arms crossed and feet spread shoulder width apart, formidable. If she looked closely enough, she would be able to see a thick bulge at his crotch.

But she didn't have a reason to look. He wasn't adjusting himself. He didn't even look like it bothered him.

In fact, he looked almost... mad.

Y/n looked at him straight in the eyes, and her's went doe-like, everything in her stilling like the fawn-like creature in the way of an oncoming vehicle.

Everything, including her breathing.

He wasn't going to have her passed out before all the fun began. Needing to get a grip on her, he took a few heavy steps foward, and pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger, the other hand tucking into his pocket to actually adjust himself this time because it was starting to get uncomfortable.

Tilting her face up and closer to him, he bent forward so that their noses were barely touching. Her warm breath huffed against his nose, and he had to fight the urge to roll his eyes into the back of his head.

"Breathe, y/n. You can do it," peering down at her with his jack slightly slack and his eyes at half mast, he imitated inhaling deeply, and she mimicked his motions. Her lungs expanded, and her heart slowed slightly. "That's it, darling. Again."

She gulped and her hands squeezed the fabric of the plaid tennis skirt she was wearing, bringing the hem up slightly so the thinner skin on the inside of her thighs gleamed at Harry.

Then he smelled it, and this time he didn't fight the shiver that ran through him. She was wetHis eyes closed, and a groan rolled deep in his chest. His body tensed and relaxed at the same time, like a transformation.

And when he opened his eyes, he was a different version of himself.

One that didn't give a fuck that he was a professor and she was his student.

This version only had one goal in mind: to consume her in every way he could until y/n went limp in his arms.

"Now what's the matter, little bunny?"

***

Y/n didn't know what was happening, only that something had... changed.

She might have been a quivering mess for him, but she felt the shift in him. The edge to him. The gleam in his eye. She had seen his body shiver at the same time she felt her pussy clench at his words. That's it, darling. Again. Little bunny.

He was encouraging her, not far off from what she wanted to hear from him. It stroked her muddled brain and made her feel fuzzy all over. Some of what he was saying was very inappropriate. But she could care less.

“W-what?” she mumbled, confused. She blinked so that a few tears ran down her face, and she couldn't even feel embarrassed about it.

“Y’heard me loud and clear, darling. Don’t make me repeat myself," her professor tutted.

"i'm sorry, sir. It's just that... I need to work on my paper." And she mumbled something afterwards. Low enough that he wouldn't have been able hear if he was a human. But he wasn't. That didn't mean he couldn't play with her.

"Speak up, y/n. Good girls don't mumble." His tongue was like a lashing, a reprimand, and she felt the scolding everywhere.

"It needs to be better for you, sir." Gulping, she rubbed her thighs together and shuffled in her seat. Y/n was finally one-on-one with him, and she thought she knew what it would feel like.

She was wrong.

Everything was sensitive. Hot. Cold. She was twitchy and there was this squirrley, jumpy feeling inside her. She wanted to run away like a little mouse, but she also wanted to be warmed in his hands. By his words. She wanted to hear the praise come from him so that she could stop feeling so desperate.

Y/n got like this sometimes. Whiny. Insatiable. But no one ever knew how to handle her, when to realize that she was finally full. So she was always... hungry. Like something inside her needed to be stuffed. Abused a little, maybe. She wanted to be handled and then petted. Fucked and kissed and then held. She wanted to be good.

And being like this with him, in a position that made it seem like that was possible, y/n thrummed.

Humming in realization, he stroked his knuckles down the side of her face in a caress, "and what makes you think it isn't already good?"

She leaned into his touch without realizing it, nuzzling into his hand. All she had to do now was purr. Y/n shut her eyes before speaking, "Y-you... you never-"

"Open your eyes and look at me when you're speaking, bunny." Again, the stern, scolding tone. This time it made her flinch and whimper. Her hips rocked in the chair, and he tracked the movement like a leopard in the trees ready to pounce. Y/n knew that he saw, and her face bloomed with heat.

In a breathy, chocked string of words, "you never leave nice notes on my papers, sir. All the others do, but there never any on mine and I just thought... that I n-needed to work harder to be b-better."

She shuffled again in her seat, and her professor's eyes pinched. His had trailed down to her throat, and he squeezed to hold her still.

“Stop squirming, y/n. You want to be better? Stop fucking squirming," and he released her with a small pulse at the base of her neck. He could feel his teeth bulging under his upper lip, the thrum of her life under his fingers enticing him further. Every bit of reason was escaping him. He was going to lose control. Decades of practice, of edging on months of hunger, were nothing to her allure.

He stepped back at the same time that he realized they weren't close enough.

"Stand up," he told her. He watched as she pushed the chair back and stood on wobbly knees, her gaze still searching for recognition that he had heard what she had said, that he had read between the lines and realized what she needed. "Sit on the edge of the table, facing me so we can speak properly."

When she was seated and her hands began to fiddle in her lap, he stepped close enough that her knees were almost touching his hips. And she couldn't miss it this time. The thick length of him, hard against his hip.

"S-sir?" she prompted meekly.

"You want me to leave nice notes on your papers, y/n?" He asked, settling his hands on either side of her and haunching over her so they were nose-to-nose. She could smell him, strong masculine scents of vintage leather and tobacco and bergamot.

Nodding eagerly like a dog, "mhm. Yes, sir."

"Then why didn't you come see me like I asked on every single one of those papers? You didn't listen to me, so why should I reward you?" He mouthed the words against her skin, trailing them down her jaw to her throat where he teased the skin with the tip of his nose.

The area around her neck felt scorching hot, his lips trailing searingly against her. She couldn't hide how desperate she was anymore. She arched, her body was taught, fighting the urge to wriggle because she couldn't decide if she wanted to get away from him or have more of him, and she needed to be good. He had told her to stop squirming.

"I'm sorry, Professor."

Y/n closed her eyes and tentatively braced herself against him. Trembling hands settled on his arms, thick with deceptive muscle. She could feel the strength hiding beneath the surface, tense like a snake preparing to strike. A strong hand settled at her waist, clamping like iron, and another on cupped her jaw tenderly. It was a dichotomy of treatment. Rough and tender at the same time.

"You were a bad girl, y/n."

Then she felt it, a sharp sting where her throat met her shoulder, where Harry was biting her, and licking her, and suckling at her all at the same time. A mixture of a squeal and a moan jumped out of her, and she dug her fingers into his arms, frozen. Whatever he was doing to her hurt. But it hurt in a good way. A way that made her ache with that need to be filled.

She cried out, "I'm sorry, sir." A wet apology that bared how anguished she was.

His hot tongue flattened against her, and she she vibrated in the place where he left his heavy pant, "are you going to be good for me, bunny?"

"Yes, sir. I wanna be good, please," her head was bobbing in that earnest way again, but with his head in the crook of her neck he could only feel the movement against his hair.

He suckled a little more at bite that was already beginning to close, kissing it tenderly, "gonna be my good little bunny?"

Y/n was huffing, not even bothering to hide that she was horny, “please, p-please- I need-”

“Tell me exactly what you need. C'mon, you can do it,” he coaxed her. The hand at her hip molded the flesh there, pulling her closer to him so she was sitting just at the edge, and her knees were pressed into his dick with the lightest pressure. He bucked against her, a slow roll of his groin against her delicate bare knee.

“I need to cum, sir. I need-” 

“Don’t-” he pinched her hip roughing, his thick eyebrows furowing in disapproval, “forget your manners, little bunny. Rude darlings don’t get to cum.”

"Please let me cum, Professor," she repeated, eyes glossy but no longer with tears. This was something else. Something needy. Y/n could feel her slick juices seeping through her panties and making the insides of her thighs sticker. The triangle of cloth was sticking to her, and the tight feeling of it against her clit made her want to scream. It was just barely pushing, a teasing sensation that was driving her crazy.

She wanted him to touch her. To rub her swollen clit until she drenched hand in her cum, and then to- to-

"I'm not sure I should, y/n. You didn't listen to me. Didn't come to my office. Instead I had to come find you here. What about me, hmm? What if I need something from you?" Harry leaned back, letting his hands run down so they rested on her knees and his fingers could play with the hem of her skirt.

"Whatever you need, sir. Please." Y/n was beginning to sound a little broken. Her hips struggled to stay planted on the desk and her knuckled turned white from how hard she gripped the edge of the wood. She would much rather touch him, but he was too far away and she didn't want to upset him. She stared at him, silently pleading for his hands to creep up and shove into her panties, to play with her hole.

"Right now I need to eat you, little bunny. Are you going to let me?" He tilted his head at her again, calculating. Waiting, observing.

"Yes!" Y/n shrieked, her thighs trembling.

"Spead these pretty thighs, darling. Let me have a taste," he crooned down at her as she opened up, her skirting riding so he could see her panties, how wet they were, nearly transparent with her arousal. With a deft finger, he pulled the gusset of her panties to the side and dropped to his knees.

Y/n whined at the look on his face. Mouth parted, eyes half-lidded and downturned. He looked hungry. Desperate.

Without warning he leaned forward and covered her with his mouth, his tongue licking her and then dipping into her pussy to collect what had pooled at her opening, his teeth lighting tapping against her clit. He thrusted his tongue into her once, twice, three times, and that was all it took. A gush of wetness coated his tongue, and her tremors pulsed against his lips.

He leaned back and slapped her cunt with an angry growl, and then shoved two fingers into her, fucking her roughly so his fingers got wet with her, "seriously, y/n? Did I give you permission to cum?"

"N-no, sir," as she sat hunched over his kneeling form still twitching, Harry shoved his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean of her, and then stood up, not even bothering to lay her panties right before yanking her to stand.

"Get up. We're going to walk to my rooms. Your'e doing to do so quietly, and when we get there, you're going to take your punishment like a good girl, do you understand me?" With a single finger pointed at her, y/n understand she was in for it. Her hands flew to pick up her things, showing her papers into her bag and looping it on her shoulder so she was ready to go.

"I understand, Professor"

He took the bag off her shoulder and laid a hand on her lower back, keeping her at his side as he led her out of the library and into the night, "that's better. Come this way. The night is still young, bunny, and we're both in for a treat."

*****

happy halloweenie!! hoped u liked this heehee. missed mr. vamp. lmk ur thoughts!!!

[i5uckersblog]

Hi!!! Can you write something else for dad!Logan with Laura? Maybe something where they meet reader (maybe she works at the library, or she’s a school teacher, or even the waitress at a restaurant, or they run into her at the park) and Laura sees her dad with the woman and instantly KNOWS they click 💕

The Library Smile

Summary:Logan meets a kind librarian, and his daughter Laura quickly senses a connection, urging him to pursue it.

Logan and Laura step into the small, cozy library on a Sunday afternoon, the kind of place where time seems to slow down. Sunlight streams through the high windows, casting golden pools of light on the well-worn carpet. The air is thick with the comforting scent of old pages and coffee from a little café tucked in the back corner.

Logan rarely visits places like this—too quiet, too exposed, too many windows. But he promised Laura an afternoon of peace, and she had insisted on the library. He watches her dart toward the graphic novels, her eyes alight with excitement, and feels a twinge of pride. For someone so young, she’s seen too much, experienced too much—but here, in this sanctuary of stories, she can just be a kid.

As Logan trails after her, trying to stay out of people’s way, he catches sight of you. You’re standing on a small step stool, stretching up to reach a top shelf, a few books in your arms. Your face is bright with concentration, eyes narrowed slightly in focus, and there's a small, unguarded smile on your lips as if the world outside the library walls doesn’t exist.

He watches for a moment longer than he should, something inside him shifting. Your hair falls loose around your face, and when you finally manage to place the book in its rightful spot, you step back down, satisfied. You catch his gaze and offer a warm, friendly smile that makes Logan’s heart do something strange—a little flip he hasn’t felt in years. He nods back, caught off guard, and quickly looks away, but not before you see a hint of something softer in his eyes.

Laura, ever observant, sees it all. She’s young, but she knows her dad better than most. She’s seen his smiles before, but this one is different—it’s small, a little awkward, but real. She watches how he keeps glancing at you, like he’s curious, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself in this quiet place.

She tugs at Logan’s sleeve, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Dad,” she whispers, eyes gleaming with mischief, “why don’t you go talk to her?”

Logan frowns, a bit thrown by her directness. “What are you talkin’ about, kid?” he grumbles, though there’s no bite in his words.

“She’s nice,” Laura insists, shrugging as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And you’re smiling. You don’t smile like that for just anyone.”

Logan looks back at you, a bit embarrassed, but there’s no denying the pull he feels. “Yeah, maybe,” he mutters, trying to play it cool, but Laura sees right through him.

“C’mon,” she urges, nudging him again. “Just ask her something. You always say to be brave, right?”

Logan chuckles softly, realizing he’s been cornered by his own advice. “Alright, kid, alright,” he concedes, ruffling her hair. “But if this goes south, it’s on you.”

Laura just grins, watching him take a deep breath like he’s about to face down a dozen Sentinels, not just talk to a woman in a library. He approaches you, clearing his throat, his hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets.

“Hey,” he says, and his voice comes out a bit rougher than he intended. “Uh, my kid and I… we’re lookin’ for some books. For her, mostly.” He stumbles over his words, not quite sure where to start. “Maybe you could help us find something… good?”

You look up from your stack of books, your smile brightening when you see him standing there, trying hard not to look as awkward as he feels. “Of course! I’d be happy to help,” you reply warmly. “What does she like to read?”

Logan hesitates, scratching the back of his neck, suddenly aware of how little he knows about the details of books. “Uh, she’s into graphic novels,” he says. “And, y’know… adventure stuff. Stuff with a lot of heart.”

You nod, your smile never wavering. “I think I have just the thing.” You lead him to a different section, glancing over your shoulder to see if he’s following. He is, eyes focused on you in a way that makes your cheeks warm.

Laura watches this from behind a nearby bookshelf, trying to look busy flipping through her comics but grinning ear to ear. She notices the way Logan’s stance softens, how his shoulders lose a bit of their usual tension, and how he’s leaning in just slightly, listening to every word you say.

As you hand Logan a book, your fingers brush for just a second. It’s nothing, a small accidental touch, but to him, it feels like a spark. He clears his throat again, this time softer, almost shy. “Thanks,” he says, holding the book, but his eyes are still on you.

“No problem,” you reply, noticing the way he looks at you, as if he’s trying to memorize your face. “It’s nice… seeing a dad and daughter spending time like this.”

Logan’s face softens even more, and there’s a look of vulnerability there, something rare, something you don’t often see in a man like him. “Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice lower, more sincere. “She means the world to me.”

You nod, touched by the honesty in his words. “I can see that,” you say gently. “You’re doing a great job.”

For a moment, there’s a comfortable silence, a quiet understanding that seems to settle between you. Logan feels like he could stay in this moment just a little longer, basking in the warmth of your smile, the softness of your voice.

Laura can’t help but feel a sense of triumph. She doesn’t know exactly what’s happening, but she knows it’s good—better than good. Her dad deserves this, deserves someone who can make him feel human, make him smile.

Logan finally steps back, holding the book you’ve given him like it’s something precious. “Thanks again,” he says, his voice softer, more genuine than before. “Maybe… maybe we’ll see you around?”

You smile, and there’s a hint of something hopeful in your eyes. “I’d like that,” you reply.

As Logan walks back to Laura, she beams up at him. “So?” she asks, trying to sound casual, but failing.

Logan shakes his head, a small smile still on his lips. “So… maybe you were right, kid,” he admits, ruffling her hair. “Maybe.”

Laura grins, feeling like she just won the lottery. “Told you,” she says, satisfied.

And as they leave the library, Logan glances back over his shoulder, one last time, catching your eye again. There’s a small wave, a shared smile, and something new blooming between you—something fragile, but undeniably real.

And for the first time in a long time, Logan feels like maybe, just maybe, there’s room for a little more light in his life.

Request are WIDE OPEN! Feel free to ask for Almost anything!

[reel-fear]

Hey if anyone wants the pdf for that Dreams Come To Life Graphic Novel, you can hit me up. Once again reminding you guys not to buy it. If you literally buy anything that has a Bendy label slapped onto it, it just tells the devs they don't need to actually make a quality product. Attitudes of how mean it is to boycott a shitty book or how bendy fans should be loyal to the devs is exactly how so many famous people/companies get away with AWFUL practices the same way the bendy devs have.

I also feel bad for anyone who wastes/wasted their money on it. That thing is not worth your shelf space. I've read through the entire thing and it's garbage, art wise, writing wise and adaptation wise. Me and my partner are writing a whole damn google doc explaining why but yeah. I hope a lot of you can get your money back and discourage others from buying it too. It's the only way we can prevent the devs from pushing out such a rushed and awful product again.

Anyways below the read more there's a screenshot of a fucking coloring mistake on the damn thing [it might get fixed for the Final Final release but this being shown to be there just like 2 weeks before release should show how damn rushed and underpaid the artist was. Their portfolio shows they can do so much better but they were clearly not given ANY time to make this any good.]

Reminder! The artist and writer don't get ANY of the sales money, that goes directly to the bosses who kept cracking the whip at them to draw faster and faster.

[achromant]

AND HERE WE ARE! My project for the gw2 'zine!

Featuring Baruhn, reflecting on his life so far, the challenges, the small sparks of joy, the horrors, loss and gain.

For clarification's sake; I did in fact plan to depict every stage of Baruhn's life, but uuh. File was already too big.

Might do a series of short comics (graphic novels?) though, because i fking love storytelling.

Let's look at my idiotic level of detail a bit, eh?

[Long Text Ahead]

Baruhn's story begins in the Plains of Ashford. An unsuccessful attempt to stem the tide of Ascalonian Ghosts leads to the demise of many year-long allies. Dozens of brave soldiers gave their life for a mere week of peace until the ghosts reformed. They always do. Soldiers don't.

Shaken in his faith in the Legions, the first seeds of doubt arise.

Until finally he found someone to trust with his pain. In a tavern at the edge of the Black Citadel, he gets to know this odd fellow, who is continuosly follow by the faint smell of sulfur. Although Baruhn knew where that path led, the warmth radiating from the old veteran in front of him was not only a physical, but an emotional one.

With the Three Legions busy with their internal quarrels, fighting over an empty promise, Baruhn took the first steps down a previously thought to be dark path.

Surprisingly, die Flame Legion was welcoming, their fires offered light and guidance, the embers igniting the skies like stars. Surely this was better than the cold metal over the Black Citadel.

Baruhn took to learning first, handling the small flames with ease after years of throwing fireballs at ghostly shapes. Then, he figured out how to teach, and that is where the real magic comes from. Nurturing a flame, protecting it from harsh winds, adding a bit of kindling and coal here and there. He even taught the more elusive ways of magic that wield smoke and ash.

Baruhn knew about the war, the countless lifes lost on the other side of the fence. But those were humans, and here he was among family.

That is, until he met Molly.

After a small recon mission that was assured not to be much of a hurdle, Baruhn found himself alone in a forest. The small fires he conjured for light and warmth only drew in the nearby villagers. Those with pitchforks and torches, with crude swords and a thirst for blood. He couldn't really bring himself to hate them, this was war after all. But at what cost are these battles to be won?

Trying to escape the villagers was a futile attempt. He sank to the ground, his own hot blood dousing the little flames beneath his weary head.

For some reason - maybe hope, maybe resignation - he forced open his heavy eyes, only to discover his wounds cleaned and bandaged with fragile white cloth. A small human girl, of all things in this damned forest, tried to help. Even in his weakened state, even with just one hand, Baruhn could have easily grabbed her and cracked her skull. But the only thing he did was listen. He listened to the ramblings of the small human, going on and on about faries made of leaves and gnomes of stone. She called him "bear".

When the villagers came, they saw the girl at his side. That was all it took for them to turn on her. She was to be executed like that beast that now slowly stepped in front of her. For the first time, Baruhn spoke to the girl. "close your eyes."

Fire roared, not red, not orange. not a warm, welcoming fire. Not one that belongs in a hearth, that thrives in the arms of a family. This was so much worse. This was years of inner conflict, of doubt, of closing his eyes on the other side of the fence. For the first time in his life, this was the only thing that he wanted to do, protect the little insignificant human behind him. Fire roared, and it burned wood and it burned flesh.

Baruhn picked up the little girl, she held tight to his horns, nestled in his mane. He ran for hours, years of military training finally useful. The little girl, Molly, lost her mother years ago. She burned in the fires of a war she tried to escape. "And your father? What about your family?", he asked between deep breaths. Molly was quiet for a while, then whispered, her voice barely audible, "My father burned today."

They stayed together, for quite a while. He protected her, and she, with her head full of stories, and a book full of dreams, protected him.

Things came, things went. Baruhn rejoined the High Legions, acting as a spy for Ash, keeping an eye on Iron and Blood.

Baruhn ultimately took on his role as Novice, then Archivist, then Commander. He helped during the struggles against Scarlet. A small flame here and there, some shrouding smoke, a well timed lightning strike. It was other people that finally defeated Scarlet, but he was always in the background, with all the small things at just the right time.

Mordremoth came, but with him new allies.

It was but a small tangent in the grand scheme of things. Watching the fragile sapling while waging war on the jungle itself.

Their relation was something more than friendship, something else than love. They were there for each other when they needed to be. Be it only to keep a flame burning or to banish the voices to the back of the head again, they walked the same path for a long time.

Tarir, the Egg. Aurene. A new flame entrusted to him, his to nurture, his to raise. A gamble, again. What if that little flame would some day devour the world? But Baruhn did, what he could do best. Teach.

Darker times came. Caudecus and the White Mantle. The raid on the Mursaat's prison. Then facing the last Mursaat himself.

Balthazar came, and in his wake a new kind of fire. A war, similar to the ones Baruhn had seen before, but still different. A war without a cause, war for war's sake. War against nature, against the world, like a child lashing out when there were none to help them up. Maybe Balthazar's flames were not too different from his.

After the festering swamp that Joko was, came the mountain, Kralkatorrik. Death was not a hindrance anymore, not for the Commander and his dragon. The story went as the story goes.

When it came to face the frost, the whispers, Jormag. Everything fell apart. Jormag pried into the deepest, darkest corners of Baruhn's life, dragged every doubt, small as it may have been, into the light. In the ice, every truth was warped, encased in whispers, in lies. It suffocated any hope and planted even darker seeds than anyone thought possible.

It was the spirit of the Raven that aided Baruhn. Even the black feathers of its wings were shimmering like rainbows in the moonlight.

A small piece stayed with him, just a fragment. Nevermore.

After that, the stars themselves. Astralaria.

So many stories that make a life, so many pieces. Every encounter, every step along the way is another fragment of the whole. People are made of other people, that is what it means to be alive.

[thecruellestmonth]

Juni Ba is holding a Reddit "Ask Me Anything" session on May 7 at 4 PM CEST (10 AM EST).

Some of his answers in his previous interviews about The Boy Wonder, a reimagining of Damian's story—

This is a standalone graphic novel (Black Label), meant to be accessible to readers with no prior comic knowledge. It is meant for ages 13+.

Damian is Ba's favorite Robin, and he finds him very relatable.

On Damian comic influences, Ba says Son of Batman and Super Sons were two of his favorite books. *CORRECTION: In the AMA, Ba makes it clear that he's referring to Robin: Son of Batman, not the Damian: Son of Batman series or the Son of Batman movie. Which makes a lot of sense for someone writing a fairy tale about Damian, but I was confused.

Other than Damian, Talia and Jason are the characters that Ba has been most excited to work with.

Ba did the art for the "Happy Birthday Damian" story in Truth & Justice; while the art was a test run for some design ideas he's using in The Boy Wonder, the actual story isn't necessarily indicative of his own writing style or his version of the characters.

Ba is a big fan of Darwyn Cooke. Justice League: The New Frontier thematically inspired him here, possibly more than particular Batman comics.

Ba is aware of the racism discussion regarding the al Ghuls, and he intends to humanize them.

Ba started writing in 2020 or 2021, and the story is being released now after a period of waiting.

"This is very much I guess a Juni Ba book that happens to feature Batman characters."

To start us off, what can you tell us about the story of your new series, The Boy Wonder?

I usually introduce it to people by saying it's the story of a child with a lot of hang ups and preconceived ideas, both about himself and his family members. Over the course of this coming of age fairy tale he starts to learn about them, and himself, and grow into a better person. And it really leans into the fairy tale aspect to push the allegory and the magic in this story!

Why does Damian appeal to you so much as both an artist and a writer?

I find him both tragic and adorable. He and I share some things and I think that's why my brain started coming up with a story about him all by itself. Writing wise there's a fertile ground to tell a really heartfelt story. And art wise, he's such a fun character to draw. It's like a cute little gremlin who's always frowning and judging everyone, which can often backfire on him in funny ways.

How much does Damian's past with Talia and Ra's al Ghul influence Damian and this story?

A lot! They raised him after all, so that upbringing influences a lot of what he does. But that includes Batman too, even if his influence is more recent. There's a looming presence of all the parental figures and the pressure of what they'd have wanted you to do, how they would have judged you.

Since we were talking about Damian’s mother, there have been questions surrounding characterization and stuff, especially for characters like the Al’Ghuls, whose stories unfortunately do have a lot of racist elements in their origins. Are you doing anything to combat or alleviate those concerns in your book?

Stories often dehumanize them, so I try to do the opposite. I think I have a very character-driven style of storytelling, and a lot of the time I try to give the point of view of as many people as I can in the story.

There are five issues. Three of them have the Robins, and then eventually we get to my 2nd favourite team up, which is with Talia and it’s done from her perspective. The main goal was to try to give her more of a voice, because you start this story with a kid who tells you “My parents are messed up,” he was essentially raised to kill people, but we see how she was raised too, and the faults that she can see in her father’s philosophy.

Ra’s gets a bit of that as well later on, but the main goal was, I want to make it so that when you start the story with Damian, he has a lot of preconceived ideas about both sides of his family, which make his relationships to everyone very difficult. Every adventure he has, he gets to understand things in a different light by the end of every story, and one of them was, “What is his relationship to his mom like?” And you get to see it from the mom’s point of view and understand that she loves her son, but there are a lot of complications that come from being raised by someone like Ra’s.

Beyond that, this is an older Talia, more mature and less sexualized than the usual I’d say. As for Ra’s, I can’t say much, but a lot of what you see of him at first is rooted in Damian’s childlike, heightened, and scared perception. Just like the rest, it gets explored later.

It sounds like the book will see Damian coming to terms with his place in the Robin lineage. How does he feel about his brothers?

This Damian would probably say they're usurpers, ingrates, failures and profiteers! It's pretty hard being raised as the center of all the attention, as well as a successor who's never quite enough for his grandfather, and then when thrown into the Bat family, he becomes what feels like the fifth wheel. The last and least appreciated son. So his whole arc will be about processing that.

Is there a character other than Damian that you’re particularly excited to be writing and/or drawing?

Jason and Talia, by a lot. I think because the core of it is this is a world of people who seem very perfect. Damian works as this kid who feels like he’s not good enough for that. But aside from him, there’s Jason, who’s really a well-intentioned, good hearted person who really bad stuff happened to, and he’s struggling to get out of the traumatic impact of that. And I think the story works really well in showing that.

Talia is kind of the same. It’s someone who has a very idealistic view of the world and wants to essentially, be allowed to shape the world into what she thinks it could be, but she has to be under the boot of someone else who is not very reputable, and it has impacted a lot of her life in ways that she did not intend, including her relationship to her son and that’s also probably why those two characters also get like an issue told from their perspective. I really wanted to show you the inside of their mind and dispel a lot of the prejudice that Damian has about the way they are.

I really love the way you visualize Damian and the other Robins expressing themselves with their eyes. What design elements of the character were you most excited to highlight to help show readers what Damian was feeling in a given moment?

I do love using the eyes to express! It’s a very efficient and visually compelling way to do it, but more so than that I use character design. Their shapes, their colors, they all are designed to convey something relative to the story at hand. For example Jason takes cues from Taxi Driver and the general feeling of alienation and being a drifter. It’s all to give a shorthand into how he feels, to then unpack that and give it context. Everything is story basically. Damian looks like a cute angry potato! And that’s all because despite how abrasive he can be, he has to remain endearing and you must see that it’s still a kid learning.

Well, since this is your own thing, I assume that must mean that you’re giving your own spin on these characters. Is there anything without spoilers that you can tease that is going to be different? Like if you’re a long time reader going into this you’re going to be surprised by it.

I’m someone who really likes a more fairy tale and magical side to storytelling. Something that I added a bunch of, I mean, they talk about demons in the solicits of the first issue. It’s both an allegorical thing and a very, real thing that the magical aspects of certain parts of that world have been pushed more.

The other big thing for me was Damian is the heart of the story, so everything is seen from his point of view. So Batman looks a lot more like a dad. Talia looks a lot more like a mom, and with every one of the Robins, I try to take a core concept of every one of them and push it to the forefront to contrast it to Damian. So like, I would say that the more fun part of it would be observing how Damian interacts with what’s essentially kind of a mirror put to himself every time. But overall the idea is a sort of cartoon-making logic, of taking the general elements in various iterations of a character, synthesizing them for the story, into something recognizable but digestible.

The Boy Wonder has this beautiful visual style - fairy tale, as you just said - despite some strong moments of violence. Why did you choose to tell the story this way?

Fairy tales are great for allegory, larger than life concepts and leaning into the magical. There's also a story reason I can't spoil but it makes for a great framing device.

[...] There are narrative reasons in the book that I can’t spoil, but overall I’d say it’s because it’s my favorite format, as well as a great way to really lean into the larger than life aspect, the allegorical, the magical. Fables often contain a nugget of a message or meaning, and this is a coming of age story, so it fits rather well.

The Boy Wonder is as much about Damian as it is his brothers. Has that story not been told enough — how similar and different Bruce’s kids really are — and did you draw on your relationship with siblings at all?

Pretty much no one I talk to in the larger world ever even knows that there are multiple Robins, let alone read their stories. So I’m glad to be making a book that’s easy to access for new readers, with no prior knowledge needed, that appeals on its own and can tell them a cool story about family and overcoming pressure. A story that works both for the ones who know these characters and want a self contained tale, and the ones who know nothing and just want a fun comic to read. The comic is Black Label, which usually skews older, but this is a tale I wanted accessible from mid teens to as old as you want.

And I did pull from experience! I have two siblings, my best friends all do as well, and the inner workings of how you view yourself and your family members depending on where you fit is interesting to me. It’s very much a tale of reckoning with your assumptions about your family, as well as the impact your parents had on you and your siblings.

What about Damian Wayne is so interesting to you? Do you think he gets a bad rap even now in the grander DC Universe?

Damian is simultaneously the most insufferable and most touching little boy to me. There’s a mix of adorable and deadly that I find amusing to watch, and satisfying to write. Plus I sympathize with him on a few backstory elements which are the cornerstone of the whole story.

As for his reputation, I think I’m glad there’s a reminder that being coarse and ill mannered can hide a good heart.

What are some of the benefits of putting this out as a DC Black Label book?

Mostly freedom! I got to tell the story I wanted. I didn't have to worry about continuity, and thus made what I like making: a self-contained adventure that anyone can appreciate as a comic, with or without any prior exposure to that world. Plus we got to have fun with the design of the issues!

Do you have a favorite Damian-starring story that you drew on for this book? Or maybe another Bat Family story instead/as well?

I think my two favorites were Son of Batman and Super Sons. I just vibed a lot with the fun adventurous tone. But most of my inspiration comes from outside superhero comics, or even outside comics as a whole. I didn’t even reread those two books I mentioned aside from when I needed to check phrasing. In that case I read those, and the early Damian stories just to absorb how he spoke.

But outside superhero stuff, were there any influences that were working on you as you were writing this story?

So a lot of comics from the 60s and 70s, from France and Belgium.I have a thing for like 80s and 90s movies, including movies that I was not supposed to watch when I was a kid, so stuff that’s drama-oriented. The point of this book is, it’s basically a character study, mostly of Damian, but also Damian through his interactions with other people in his life. So, mostly the other Robins, but also his parents and more so his mother.

The events that happen are really just a setting for you to observe how the characters interact, and there’s a bunch of movies in the 80s that were really good at doing that and showing you a very flawed person and the way that they react to the world around them. So yeah, that’s more of a tone thing. The aesthetic aspect was really taken from 60s and 70s French and Belgian comics as well as very old sci-fi, fairy tales, and black and white photography.

What’s the process look like for you when you write and draw a comic?

Whoa. Let’s see. So the origin of every book is a little different, but usually I spend a year or two, maybe more just thinking about the story and putting ideas down and then once I have an idea of how every story step works into each other, I start storyboarding so there’s no script.

[...] I don’t write scripts because I prefer to have the storyboard of the thing already made, because that’s where I know if something is working or not. Then once the storyboard has been greenlit and all the corrections are done, the next step is drawing the final pages. I do the sketching on my tablet, and then I print that in blue lines and ink over that. It’s a recent thing, I started doing it the last few months. The Boy Wonder was made that way. [...]

[...] I mean, technically, I started writing it in 2020 or 2021. Yeah. I’ve been sitting on it for a while, and then I made a tweet about it and it got the attention of Chris Conroy, who basically runs Black Label. He just asked, like, “OK, sure. Show it to me. I want to see what that’s like.” Several months later, the book was greenlit by DC.

You talked about how Batman: The Animated Series is an inspiration for this. And also because it’s Damian, I assume that the Grant Morrison Batman stuff is also an inspiration in some ways. But what other Batman material were you inspired by, if any, when writing this book?

Well, I wasn’t so much using Batman as I was using other things. Like there’s a bunch of influences from a bunch of different places, but the superhero stuff was mostly influenced by Darwyn Cooke. So it wasn’t so much Batman as much as it was Cooke. Like the thought process I guess was, “What do I like about these characters? Like the concept of the superhero?” Because the idea came from me watching a documentary about The Dark Knight Returns and Frank Miller. They mentioned how he was given free reign to make the Batman book he wanted. I just had the thought of, “Yeah, that would be fun, having a superhero story where you can just do whatever you want. Like, it’s your personal take.”

I guess from then, my brain started imagining a story with Damian because he’s my favourite Robin and I have a lot in common with him in terms of his backstory. I think it was this sense of sympathy towards the kid and the story grew from wanting to talk about the feeling of “You’re not good enough to be a part of the group you’re in or the family you’re in.” So being a superhero was more of an allegory of, “I don’t feel good enough to be a part of those great people who seem so perfect.”

Then the Darwyn Cooke stuff came. He was probably the biggest superheroic influence, because he’s kind of the epitome of superhero storytelling to me. He makes all his stories very easy to understand, very accessible to someone who maybe has never opened or barely knows what that character is about. His storytelling is also strong on its own artistic terms and most of all, he has this great sense of making superheroes this idea of the ideal version of ourselves, like those people who, even if they have bad thoughts or flaws that they have to overcome, they always do the right thing and they represent the best in all of us, and there’s a sort of sense of joyful fun in the superhero stories that he does. He also can talk about very serious subjects through that at the same time. My favourite superhero comic is The New Frontier, and I kept reading it over and over again when I was rewriting the book just to look at how he was managing that balance of joyful, superheroic, and inspirational fun, and the more serious themes. So yeah, the biggest influence would probably be him.

When I was doing research for this, I noticed that this isn’t your first time with a Damian comic. It was the “Happy Birthday Damian” story for Truth and Justice. Even over there, there’s a lot of similarities in terms of the character design, and even to some degree, Damian’s own struggle with his family and all that. So did that story help inform or define where you wanted to go with the characters for this book?

Well, no actually because basically when they asked me to do that story, the way it happened was that I was originally approached for something else, and I said, “I don’t really want to do that, but I’ve been writing this Damian story just for myself. Would you like to take a look?” Truth and Justice was kind of a test like, “We already have this story written by Andrew Aydin, and the idea was, do you want to draw it? It’s kind of a test run.” So I just used the designs I had already made for my own book. The fact that the themes are very similar is kind of a coincidence and it was kind of funny actually. It was a good way to sort of try my hand at drawing these for the first time, get a sense of what works and what doesn’t. I would say my story is a lot more complex, and delves a lot more into the psychology of most of the characters.

This book is an anthology like you said, where it’s about Damian with all these characters. But in terms of the structure of the story, is there like a connection beyond that, like Monkey Meat is all about the corporation. So is there a connection like that in this story?

Yes. It’s a narrative cut into different, contained stories, basically. Because the idea is that Damian is on a quest to try and prove his worth by defeating an enemy, and it’s really more of a set up to allow for him to meet all the different characters that he does. But the goal is that every story progresses that main plot that he’s on and getting closer to the final showdown against the big enemy.

The whole point is this kid needs to grow up and understand the familial context that he was born into on both sides, like a lot of it is him learning how complicated his parents are, and the effect that they’ve had on the people around them and learning to move beyond the trauma and the more negative impact of being the son of a guy who dresses like a bat, or the descendant of a selfish egomaniac. The big plot of the thing is a young boy wants to prove his worth and every story is a step on that journey towards the final end.

For Damian, you said he’s your favourite Robin. You relate to him a lot, but was there anything beyond that that made you want to sit back and think, “Okay, this is the character that I want to give my own spin on?”

I love the concept of Robin. When I was a kid, that was probably the thing that I liked the most about the Batman world. The reason why Damian worked so well is that it was such a perfect way to also tackle the previous ones, so every one of them represents some aspect of what being a Robin is like, and you can use that as an allegory for being part of a group or family with a code and stuff. You can talk about being part of a group with specific ideas of how you should behave, what kind of things you should uphold as good.

Damian’s the runt of the family. He’s the kid who just showed up. He doesn’t really know these people. He has a lot of preconceived ideas and it was a good way for me to be able to also talk about the previous Robins through him. It’s not a meta commentary, it’s more like, “Why do you like these concepts? What speaks to you as a person when you watch those beacons of goodness do things?” Damian is kind of like the audience surrogate in discovering that aspect of things at the same time.

What’s Damian’s favourite sandwich?

Well, I’m going to try and focus on my version of Damian from The Boy Wonder specifically. That Damian, his favourite sandwich would probably be something made by the mystical creatures that serve his grandfather, who take care of the whole land that they live in. So it’ll probably be a sandwich made with vegetables and meat from supernatural sources, something that he would not be able to get in Gotham because no one even knows that this stuff exists.

I like the idea of how even his favourite food is inaccessible in the new place that he’s in, furthering the whole alienation that he’s experiencing.

If Damian had a favorite song, what would it be and why?

I’m now going to show my age and mention how my teen sister listens to these moody chill songs that sound like the softer version of the emo rock I listened to as a teen, so I’d say that style! (Don’t ask me to name them, I don’t know!)

A song from my angst phase? “Numb” by Linkin Park.

[yuurei20]

Hiii!

I was wondering how the rooms were distributed in each dorm. I know that the housewardens have their individual room but i believe that in Hearstabyul Ace and Deuce share their room with other 2 students and in Octaville Jade and Floyd share a room, so i guess it's different in every dorm and i wondered how It was in other dorms and if there was any information abt the roomates.

I rlly like your posts, it's rlly cool learning more abt TW lore and characters.

Hello hello!! Thank you so much, you are too kind! ♡ And also thank you for this ask, it was so interesting to look into!

Some room situations have been confirmed via dialogue while others have not, there are various theories based upon the cross-referencing of dialogue, graphics and the novel, and something curious might be going on with EN-server's Octavinelle:

First-year living situations are referred to at least twice as being four-man rooms. As this information comes from Ace and Deuce it seems not uncommon for people to assume that this must be Heartslabyul's particular setup, but neither character ever specifies that this situation is unique to Heartslabyul: they say it is specific to first-year students.

And the rooming situation at NRC is described explicitly in the second novel:

"In each dorm 1st-year students are four to a room with 2nd-year students two to a room and, as a 3rd-year student, you finally get a room to yourself.

Housewardens are the one exception, with their own room regardless of year."

So it is possible that roommate arrangements are the same across all seven dorms. But! Many things have been changed in the novels from the original game (Leona's introduction, the prefect going to Pomefiore alone, etc), so it might be better to not use the novels as a reference for what is or isn't game-canon. This neither proves nor disproves the possibility of the game following the same roommate system, but it does give us something to go off of :>

Ace and Deuce were hinted at having the same bedroom in a vignette, and this was confirmed during Spectral Soiree when Ace says he can hear Deuce grinding his teeth in his sleep.

Comparing their bedrooms themselves, objects from Ace's bookshelf can be seen in Deuce's room.

Unlike the overlapping objects in the Ace/Deuce shared bedroom, there is no proof of Cater, Trey or Riddle sharing a room with anyone, which may support the "third years and housewardens have private rooms" theory.

Further support comes from Cater's comment that he and Trey only shared a room for their first two years at the school.

This might point to them sharing a room with two others in their first year, having a room alone together their second year, and now they are in private rooms.

There is an interesting situation at Savanaclaw where they have empty rooms in the dorm, but students are still rooming together rather than cleaning out a room to use for themselves.

It is possible that "first-years are four-to-a-room, second-years are two-to-a-room" is a rule at the school. Only some first- or second- years getting private rooms or fewer roommates wouldn't be fair to the others, so they have to share rooms even though there is space available.

Leona has a line about Ruggie sharing a room with at least one other person during Spectral Soiree, so Ruggie having a roommate is also confirmed.

(The Japanese language doesn't really have "the" or "a," and EN chose to write this line as "a guy in his room," as though there are multiple people besides Ruggie. It could technically be interpreted either way.)

Much like Ace and Deuce, illustrations show proof of other people living in Jack and Ruggie's rooms, while there is no such proof in Leona's.

There is also no visual proof of Azul sharing a room with anyone, while there is proof in Jade and Floyd's.

Based on visuals alone it seems there might be an argument for the twins sharing rooms with other people: the positioning of the chairs and a stack of books in Floyd's room do not seem to correlate with Jade's room. A stack of objects in Ace's room can clearly be seen in Deuce's room, so it seems like such details would be carried over if that's what we're supposed to think is going on.

But, unlike most other characters, it has been confirmed in dialogue that Floyd and Jade share a room on JP!

The Japanese language doesn't really use possessive pronouns in the same way that English does, as things like that are generally communicated via context.

Since English forces you to specify such information (which Aniplex USA might not actually know), they added "Jade's room" to Floyd's dialogue in his birthday vignette, despite how Floyd did not specify Jade having a separate room at all: he just says that Jade is always keeping an unspecified room clean. While he could technically be talking about Jade's room, he could also be talking about their shared room.

This is a kind of vague example and may not be particularly convincing either way, but there have been at least two more references in-game:

In Floyd's original, in-game dialogue, he says that he doesn't want to go back his room because he wants to be alone, but Jade will be coming home soon. The word "room" was changed on EN to "dorm," not once, but twice:

In another vignette he says that Jade smells so earthy all the time that it brings his mood down just to be in the dorm room. So I think I can understand someone playing EN and thinking that the twins might be in separate rooms with different roommates, but that does not seem to be the case!

Much like Riddle, Leona and Azul, there is no proof of roommates in the bedroom illustration for Kalim, but another student's rug, bookshelf and desk can be seen to the side of Jamil's despite how he is a vice-houswarden. This may be in support of the "two students per 2nd year bedroom, housewardens are the only exception" theory.

Neither Rook nor Vil have any proof of roommates in their bedroom designs, while what may be another student's closet can be seen to the side of Epel's.

There is no proof of a human roommate in Idia's bedroom (the blue stand off to the right is heavily hinted in Book 7 as being for Ortho), and he has a voice line about being miserable sharing a dorm room until becoming Housewarden.

Despite being counted as a first-year student (while he has technically been at the school as long as Idia), post-Book-6 Ortho's room also does not seem to have any proof of being a shared space, but it was confirmed in New Years 2024 that Ortho does have multiple roommates.

There is proof of roommates in both Sebek and Silver's room illustrations, with what are presumably other students' desks seen in both of them.

There is no proof of roommates in Lilia or Malleus' bedrooms, and we learn in Spectral Soiree that their two rooms are located next to one another:

[anticmiscellaney]

I absolutely adore your work! What's your process been like for writing NewOldRare and developing Neil and Louis? Your art and character writing feel so genuine and realistic to me, so I'm really curious how you go about it!

Thank you! I've always been obsessed with character-driven stories and interaction, so I guess this is the result of years of practice and observation, and dismantling stories that do and don't work to see why.

Unfortunately, there isn't a clear way to explain it. It's one of those "you know when you get it right" things, requiring an eye developed over a long time. I will redraw things if I don't feel like I've captured the nuance I wanted to, and a few months later I'll look at it and see where I could have done better. Same with writing. I'm obsessed with pacing and page design, I had a moment of "that's how I think about it too" when Will Eisner described comic panels like music.

The technical approach is I make notes about stories I want to write, then I expand that into outlines, then scripts, then thumbnails, then I draw the comics and colour them and finalise the dialogue. At every stage I'm asking myself if it feels right, if I'm getting across what I want to. That's not to say there aren't surprises and things don't develop organically, but every stage is an attempt to solve as many problems as I can before the next stage. My thumbnails are quite detailed because it makes pencils easier, and I spend a while on them.

I have total aphantasia so I am operating off feeling rather than any mental images. I have no idea how it works and no idea why I pursue this when I'm missing what many visual artists describe as a crucial component. I just do it and I have better things to do (art) than wonder about something I can't change. I don't think it's made me a better or worse artist, though I think it has given me different ways of approaching/developing things. But also, literally everything about you makes your work different to everyone else's work.

You need to care. If your character is into music, listen to that music. If they have an old car that keeps breaking down, read up on common problems for that model. If they work as a film projectionist, watch a training film about using the machine. The characters care about things, have things in their lives that matter, have skills and interests and challenges. If I don't care enough to understand them, why should anyone reading it care, and also why am I writing it if I don't care?

So I do, and in caring I understand them better. This helps me develop characters/story but it also gives me so much more to write/draw. Understanding how things work and how they are done from a physical standpoint makes writing/drawing them easier too. The more you put into your head, the more you can get out later. I'll do way less for a 12 page short than for a 300 page graphic novel, obviously. Pick your battles, a little can go a long way.

They tell artists to collect visual references - solid advice - but you should collect substance too. If you pay attention, you will hear and see things you could never in a million years make up.

I find online socialising difficult, so I go out regularly and talk to people, or just hang around and observe. Chatting with strangers mostly involves listening to them. No one in gay spaces is interested in flirting with me (I'm rather homely and queer men assume I'm straight) but I think an audience is just as appealing sometimes, and maybe even harder to find. You'd be amazed what people will tell you if you're genuinely interested and listening. I once spent forty minutes at a sci-fi con talking to a guy who'd recently gotten into fisting. While I have zero personal desire to partake in that activity (and he had no interest in being fisted by me), I'm engaged, I'm invested, I'm asking questions, spare no detail.

I collect behavior and movement and the ways people interact too. Reading stories on reddit or whatever is one thing, but the words might not be as interesting as the way they're standing, the way their hands move, the way they respond. A guy in a bar once literally humped my leg like a dog because he felt I wasn't paying enough attention to him. I would never think of that as a response to that situation, but he did, and he followed through. Fortunately my friend had just tried to drunkenly sit down and missed the chair, otherwise I would never hear the end of it.

I see the leghumper around sometimes, he's got a boyfriend and avoids making eye contact with me, thank god.

[starcocaine]

Who the fuck is this? Seriously, ever since I discovered this monstrosity, I've been feeling disgusted. My friend informed me about this design, and despite it not being 100% official, the damage is still done.

I know many people acknowledged Norman as someone black. And I've agreed most of the time even though in my au I never actually made him black, lol. But I agree on this one. He should be black. Literally, the whole fandom agrees on this one. Yet hear me out- I am not mad since his VA wasn't black at all, color really doesn't matter to me. But what bothers me so much is that he's simply hideous, ALL OF THEM.

They are so many talented artists that you have no idea just how many they are. They had options, many more. Just now, I saw the most jaw-dropping, beautiful- breathtaking fanarts of these same characters. I wish I could tag them all.

I just don't know what to say anymore. I've been such a huge fan of batim since 2017. I was a weird kid since I never stopped talking about it. And I don't mean this as a flex, I'm trying to say that batim has truly been my most precious thing ever. I can't explain how much I loved this back at the time, I still do.

It's been a while since I started to lose my way in the whole lore. Ever since batdr dropped, I haven't been able to catch up. And I must say, ever since they said that a movie, graphic novel and many other books would drop. I just knew I couldn't have high expectations on something like this.

And Jesus christ. I guess we were all right about this one. I really hope they do better, I really do. All I know is that I fear for Thomas Connor, Sammy Lawrence, and Wally Franks. They are absolutely my favorite characters, and even though I have my own impression and headcanons about them, I just pray to the Lord for them not to be THAT bad.

I only had to say this, lol. I needed to vent, whatever happens, I guess there's not much I can do anyway.

P.S. I made this drawing. This is my design of Thomas Connor, lol. Fun fact is that Thomas and Norman are my favorite characters.

I ship those two, btw... Norman x Thomas sounds fun.

What do you think about this in general?

[flawseer]

What are your headcanons on the Nightwing Tribe's views on Art? Do they like it, or, like some humans, do they think it is a waste of time?

It's somewhat ill-advised to paint an entire culture composed of many thinking, feeling individuals with one brush; there will be Nightwings who fall into one or the other camp, and others still who haven't really formed a definite opinion on the matter. But in terms of general societal norms and expectations, I think I imagine it like this:

The ancient Nightwing tribe, circa 3000 AS and before, had an active art scene. We actually see some glimpses of this in the Darkstalker Legends book. There were implied school classes on painting and (presumably) other art forms, and art pieces were being displayed at fairs and public celebrations. The hallways of the palace were decorated with mirrors, and there were glassblowers making sculptures and such. I believe Nightwings may actually have had an affinity for glasswork specifically; not only because of the glass sculptures, but a Nightwing with glasses appeared in that book, and Mastermind also had glasses in the graphic novel adaptation. It was probably practical for them, since they lived right next to the continent's largest sand pit back then.

When the Nightwings relocated due to the whole Darkstalker debacle, their priorities must have shifted. Not much at first; there were probably efforts to restore their old way of life as authentically as it was possible on the island, which would have included artistic expression. But over the years, with the volcano becoming more active and reducing the quality of life, the tribe shifted gears into a "survival first" mindset. With their very existence threatened, the tribe needed to become more efficient. The Nightwing government became much more overbearing and artistic pursuits were regarded as frivolous; if what you were doing wasn't filling bellies, improving the quality of life, or advancing Nightwing interests, you were seen as wasting time and resources and may have experienced pushback from your neighbors. The tribe needed soldiers, doctors, scientists, hunter-gatherers; and kids needed to be pushed towards those careers so the supply didn't suddenly run dry.

I don't believe artistic endeavors were completely suspended during that time though. That's kind of impossible; where there's life, there will be art. But I imagine artistic pursuit became more of a counter culture thing, practiced as a way to voice discontent with the poor life standard and the crown's apparent inability to provide a better existence for the people. Think subversive, anti-authoritarian displays, likely created anonymously. Naturally, the Queen would have been cracking down on this eventually, declaring such outlets as acts of delinquency that were eroding the moral foundation of Nightwing society.

I don't know, I can just picture Fierceteeth leaving an unflattering graffiti of Morrowseer and Battlewinner on some wall in the shade after being reprimanded for sneaking into the rainforest and seeing firsthand what the Queen's regime was depriving them of.

Now that the Nightwings have relocated yet again and are living in conditions where they won't have to worry about either suffocating or starving to death 24/7, I believe artistic expression will see a general resurgence in popularity. We already kind of saw this with Mightyclaws, who has taken up painting (the story frames it as Starflight having suggested painting to him, but judging by the apparent quality of his work I believe he already had a prior inclination towards it, and Starflight's suggestion was to make use of a pre-existing hobby as a therapeutic outlet, rather than to start it up). So yeah, art is on the upswing again.

Those are probably my thoughts on the matter.

[valiantstarlights]

Okay I have GOT to know what “Hflwaohfpufw” is 😂

🤘five-and-dimes

*checks notes because I genuinely don't remember what it's about* 😂

*reads notes* ...Oh. 👀 It's a spicy dreamling fic. Except it starts out as crack. 🤨 I think this was the time I came across the breasted boobily post, yelled for five minutes straight, and then opened my notes app and wrote spicily. 😂

It starts with a sad Hob wandering around the Dreaming library after a long day at work. Too many students writing about Shakespeare being awesome, you know? 🥺 Lucienne takes pity on him and directs him to the smutty crack novels section, so he can cheer himself up (and allow her to do her duties on the other side of the library).

So Hob has a good time reading absolutely terrible smut. As a treat(?), here's one of the passages: "He licked madly at her cave of wonders, his tongue spelling abracadabra in cursive. She screamed bloody murder and writhed against her restraints like a chained zombie."

After an hour or so, Dream finds Hob still in that section, laughing his ass off and wiping happy tears from his eyes. (Dream was doing his duties, but came as soon as he could after Matthew informed him that Hob was in the library being sad.)

Domestic fluff ensues. That is, until Dream sees what Hob is reading, and his eyes suddenly become dark with spicy intentions. 😏 Like, oh, are you here because you couldn't wait for me to take care of you? Hob denies this, of course; Lucienne was the one who directed him to this section of the library. But Dream is in the mood now, and doesn't Hob want to hear how the Lord of Dreams talks dirty? It's going to be so much better than the porn he's reading, and he's gonna wake up refreshed. ✨

Hob agrees after a few steamy kisses, and confesses that he's been wanting to warm Dream all day because he was so stressed, and being good for Dream calms him down. Dream smiles and parts his legs, allowing Hob to kneel between them. He tells Hob that he's going to read what Hob has been reading while Hob warms him, just to see why it makes him laugh.

--

Hob finds himself floating as he holds Dream's cock inside his mouth, nose pressed against the dark pubic hair and head resting on Dream's thigh. Above him, Dream runs his fingers through his hair with long, skillful fingers.

Dream lets out an amused hum as he turns a page. "I can see why this entertained you. It's very...graphic, albeit in a ludicrous way." Dream tucks a strand of hair behind his ear and grazes the nail of his forefinger lightly against the shell. Hob moans around him and squirms, his own neglected cock stirring at the gesture. "Were you turned on, Hob? While reading?"

Hob shakes his head a little, mindful of his teeth. Fuck no. He was the farthest thing from turned on while reading...whatever that was. He might be a freak, but he's not that freaky.

Dream chuckles as if he heard Hob's thoughts and goes to set aside the book he's holding. "And now?" he asks. Hob feels Dream shifting his weight, and he moves obediently as Dream slots one leg between Hob's own. He chokes on a moan as he feels Dream nudging his stiffening cock with his shin. Does Dream want him to hump his leg like a dog? Because he would. He's not above doing something like that. But only if Dream wants him to. Only if Dream commands him to.

"Good boy," Dream says, when Hob just whimpers but doesn't move. He is rewarded by Dream grinding his leg against his cock. "Can you come like this, my love? Or shall I make you come untouched with just my voice?"

--

Ask about my WIPs

[tnbc-thoughtsandheadcanons]

The Battle for Pumpkin King #5

Here are my thoughts on the last issue of the comic. After this, I'll be writing a full review looking at the series as a whole. As always, Spoilers under the 'Read More'!

The last competition for the title of Pumpkin King between Jack Skellington and Oogie Boogie is designing and carving their own giant Jack-o-Lantern. It's clear that they must complete it on their own, even cleaning out their pumpkins, and will be judged by 5 Townspeople.

Edgar suggests for Oogie Boogie to break the rules (again) by using Lock, Shock, and Barrel, this time to clean out his pumpkin for him. He says if Boogie wins, he can continue using his Lair, even having it as his own. While they clean out his pumpkin, Oogie wastes time by talking to the Judges and even taunting Jack, who questions why he isn't dirty from cleaning his pumpkin.

Jack starts to have doubts about himself and wonders why he's working so hard while things come 'naturally' for Oogie. He is comforted by Sally, who tells him he workd hard because it's natural to him, too, and is giving his all.

Oogie sends some bugs and snakes Jack's way to bother him while he carves. Lock, Shock, and Barrel start throwing pumpkin guts at each other inside, which sends a flurry onto Jack's pumpkin. Thinking quickly, Jack meshes it to look like hair on the jack-o-lantern. In contrast, Oogie's pumpkin is a mess from the trio's mischief.

The judges (as we all know) choose Jack's jack-o-lantern unanimously over Oogie Boogie's, winning him the crown of Pumpkin King. Boogie is furious and stomps the winning pumpkin down, arguing with Edgar and claiming his Lair as his own. He officially ends his friendship with Jack and storms off. Elsewhere, Jack suggests using Oogie's mess for a pumpkin pie, along with the Mayor's suggestion of a party to celebrate his victory.

Edgar congratulates Jack on his winning and claims he will retire to the pumpkin patch since Oogie is now in his Lair. He lays with the pumpkins lamenting Oogie's loss and their wasted potential as a team, but now he can finally rest.

Oogie, now in Edgar's Lair, claims everyone is against him, and vows no one will ever cheat him again.

---

This comic was a LOT of fun to read and buy, much like Mirror Moon was. But I think I enjoyed this one more, despite TBFPK not having as extreme concepts. I will go into more detail in my full Review - keep an eye out for it! ;)

#5 was a great wrap to everything, showing us how Oogie ended his ties with Jack and what happened to Edgar in the end. Crazy to think the previous Pumpkin King might be one of the many pumpkins in the patch now, if he's not already long gone by this point.

It's interesting how Oogie was easily manipulated by Edgar, cheated in the competitions, yet feels betrayed and cheated HIMSELF after he loses. He gave up his friendship with Jack over a potential team-up with Edgar, only to lose THAT in the end(except gain his Lair). I can see why he would take control over the trio down the line, seeing as they indirectly caused his loss for the crown. I bet he forever holds that to them....

Also, very sweet little moments between Jack and Sally. I wonder how their friendship grew in this way. And I'm happy to see how Jack won his crown, it's fortunate it hadn't been Oogie(unless, without Edgar's influence, he would have wanted to rule Halloween Town...better? And possibly had a greater chance in the Competition without his help?)

I have a lot more to say about this series, so I'll start on the overall review soon. If you can, consider buying the Issues, or the Graphic Novel that comes out next month!!!

[mybworlds]

CHAPTER 13

status: ongoing

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…

Masterlist

rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)

A/N thank you for your support, for your likes and reblog, thank you, thank you, thank you ❤️ If you like it pls leave a like/comment/reblog it, if you don't like it don't be rude and keep going. Please remember English is not my first language, so please be merciful!

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner and thanks @saradika-graphics for the divider.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed

Joel fortunately is okay. He told you by phone, you unfortunately had to go back home or your mother might have suspected something. In the meantime, during these three weeks, you received an e-mail saying that your application was accepted at the library as a library worker. The interview took place in a historically decorated room with two staff members who asked you a lot of questions, such as your interests in the field, what you aspire to in life, whether you know what you're going to do, they asked you how many languages you speak, in short, questions to try to test your preparedness and interest. You got up from that chair satisfied and the heat rising to your cheeks with excitement. You hope to be called, you really want to.

You tell Joel about what you have seen, done, your emotions, your feelings, he listens to you, asks you questions and is once again interested in you, your future, your dreams. In addition, you tell him that you' ve been inspired to continue to write your story.

"This time I will hold you in my arms as I watch you write, I promise," he tells you.

You smile, "Being in your arms always gives me great security, you know."

You hear him sigh, "Honey, I wanted to propose something to you, for Friday."

"What?" you ask him.

"I'd like to take you somewhere," he replies in a mysterious tone making you very curious.

"Where?" you ask him hoping he will tell you.

"I'll see you on Thursday for class and then I hope you'll say yes for Friday." he resumes.

"Whatever it is, it's fine," you reply, "You know I trust you."

"I know," you hear him sigh "Where are you?"

"In my room, I'm already in bed-I haven't had dinner, I'm not hungry," you reply.

"Why?"

"Nothing. . . I was thinking about you," you answer him in a whisper. "I wish it was already Wednesday night," you confide to him.

You hear him smile, "I know, I wish that too."

"How are you?" you ask him.

"Stitches are pulling a little, but no big deal, baby. Besides, now that I hear you, it's so much better." you smile "Would you like to try something together now?" he asks, you furrow your brow.

From a distance?

"Tell me." you invite him to continue intrigued by his proposal.

"Imagine me there with you now," and you don't struggle to imagine him in your room, you don't struggle to think of him lying on his side next to you, kissing you softly and telling you how beautiful and perfect you are for him, you shudder "can you think of me there with you?" his voice is so warm and husky.

You close your eyes and for a moment you can almost feel his hands cupping your face gently, your breath getting shorter, "Yes." you reply intrigued and at the same time holding your breath.

"Now, touch yourself, touch your breasts the way you'd like me to touch you," you gasp realizing what you're doing together, you've never done it before, but you've heard about it and doing it with him turns you on like crazy.

You touch yourself exactly as he does in that firm but gentle way. Your breath breaks. "Gently." he says in a husky tone of voice that causes you to shiver.

You do what he says, you close your eyes surrendering to his voice and the sensations you are experiencing.

"Now open your legs." he orders and you execute "How you feel?"

You gasp, you don't know how to feel, you don't know what to do, but you wish he was here with you, on the top of you kissing you all over.

"Joel. . . I wish you were here." you gasp.

"I am. Now reach down with your hand and touch yourself there." you hear noises on the other side of the phone, you can't help but wonder if he's touching himself too, you wonder what he's like, you clench your bottom lip between your teeth moaning just at the thought "I can almost feel your soft breasts in my hands, it drives me crazy. . ." he says after a while "I can even see the expression on your face, oh shit..." you swallow imagining that he's giving himself pleasure right now "Are you wet?" he asks.

"Yes." you answer shakily, "J - Joel..." you moan sliding two fingers inside you, you tighten your lips feeling your walls contract around your fingers, your breath gets shorter and shorter, shivers ripple your skin, "Joel... I ... it's so good ... I wish you were here."

"I'm with you." he replies, "I'm touching you there, baby." his breath is panting, you imagine him lying there, touching himself, you imagine him with his face tense, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed "Stick a second finger inside you."

"I'm doing it," you reply in an even more trembling tone, you are close to the edge, "Really? Then stick another finger in," you hear him with shortness of breath. You do as he says, "Oh God, Joel... I..." your shivers are getting stronger and stronger "I'm going to... I'm... Joel... oh, God." you groan louder closing your eyes and folding your legs, it was the strongest climax you have ever felt up to that moment.

You don't talk for a couple of minutes, just listen to your heavy breathing. You wonder if he came too, what he looks like when he comes, the look on his face now, what he would have told you to do, what he would have said to you.

"Joel?"

"Sweetheart,"

"I..." love you "I want you with all my being." you tell him, you hear him sigh, as you sit in the middle of the bed still shaken from your climax, "I know it's the same for you too."

"You right." he admits, "I want to hold you tight to me as I make you come, I want to see the look on your face, I want to feel you clench around me and scream my name." you feel wet again just thinking about it and the image of you underneath him sinking inside you, you're short of breath again just thinking about it.

"Joel..." you don't know what to say.

"Don't say anything. Maybe I had not to. . ."

"Joel," you say "don't be sorry, I liked that." you quickly reassure him fearing that he is about to apologize for what the two of you shared a few moments ago "You know, I've been thinking about what you told me about the contest." you tell him changing completely the subject "I don't think I can sign up, Seattle is so far away. . too far away from you."

You hear him breathing heavily, "You don't have to be afraid, you know? Going away doesn't mean forgetting."

"I remembered the quote differently." you point out "Going away means forgetting." you quote "And I don't want to forget or leave you." you add feeling a knot in your throat.

"Honey, I. . ."

"I can't wait for tomorrow!" you exclaim, "Then you'll tell me where you're going to take me, right?" you ask him, changing the subject again. You hear him sigh, "Is that a yes?"

"No." he answers you dryly "'s a surprise and I don't like to reveal it ahead of time." he explains.

You fall asleep thinking about him, about this mysterious surprise, about his words. You dream of leaving, of leaving your city, but of doing it with him. Even in your dreams you cannot think of a future without him. He has become too important to you.

The excitment spreads through your body, you begin to see stars as you feel the climax already mount inside you.

It's Thursday. You are wearing a slightly less warm jacket, heading for the Miller house. When he opens the door, you pounce on him, kissing him and feeling yourself immediately enveloped by his strong scent and his muscular arms closing around you in a pleasant grip. The two of you barely make it to his couch as you slowly undress each other between kisses. His scent of coffee, cologne and wood envelops your senses. You lie on your back as he kisses your neck and collarbones. He gently wraps your breasts in his hands in a languid caress before rolling gently your nipples between thumb and forefinger, his caresses break your breath each time. Your breath becomes even shorter when he takes one nipple in his mouth and sucks it and caresses it gently with his lips and tongue, you slip your hands into his hair closing your eyes when he moves to the other nipple with a pop.

"You're fucking perfect," he tells you while you open your eyes, you see him descend lower and lower leaving a trail of wet kisses, opening your legs as your eyes open wide for the surprise and the growing arousal.

"What you doing?" you ask him breathlessly as he pulls off your briefs.

"I want to try something new," he replies by giving you kisses in your inner thigh, you close your eyes for a moment savoring the soft contact of his lips and the rough contact of his beard, then you lean back on your elbows to observe what he does "If it bothers you, tell me, I stop."

When you realize what he's about to do, you open your eyes even wider and your breath stops, his kisses are getting closer and closer there to your womanhood, then you feel his tongue licks very slowly along your slit, "Fuck..." you gasp closing your eyes and leaning your head back on the sofa cushion.

Joel takes this as a sign that he can continue, you feel his fingers open you to him and his tongue poking between your folds, you squeeze your eyes tightly lost in that sea of pleasure he is giving you, you moan shamelessly surrendering yourself completely to the renewed pleasure he is giving you.

Then, his tongue hits that little bundle of nerves making you see stars behind your eyelids.

"Mmmh, mmh..." you groan unable to say anything else, you open your mouth gasping , you hear him moaning against you, and his hot breath against your intimacy sends more bursts of pleasure.

"You're so good, I'd stay like this forever," he tells you, you open your eyes and seeing him there between your legs giving you pleasure is an even more erotic feeling, your heart beats faster and faster, "You're so wet." he tells you alternating small hits with deeper licks.

"J - Joel... I - I..." you can no longer formulate a coherent thought.

"Let go, baby, I know you want it, let go," he tells you as he alternates his tongue with his fingers.

You tilt your head back closing your eyes and let out a long resounding moan as you feel your climax explode violently.

He continues to caress you even as your climax wanes, when you open your eyes, you see him intent on watching you and only then you notice your release on his beard and it's such a sensual sight, you tilt your head back again feeling your breathing still erratic.

"Joel... fuck, I..." you can't express your thoughts about it yet, it was beautiful, overwhelming, too much. You feel him move and when you open your eyes he is on you again, cupping your cheek, while with the other he keeps to the side of your head so as not to burden you too much.

"How are you feeling?" he asks you.

"W - well, it's..." you take a long breath "I don't know what to say." it's the only thing you are able to say, he smiles at you and you return his smile and then lean toward him and kiss him. It's a slow kiss, different from the ones you gave each other when you entered his house.

"We should have played." he says, smiling at you.

You giggle, "I'm naked, you just made me come, you're half-naked and you think about music?"

"Well, you right." he retorts by giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose making you close your eyes "You have other talents besides music." he adds making you open your eyes and look at you with a sweet expression.

He caresses your forehead which, only at that moment, you realize is covered with a light layer of sweat, caresses one cheek and places a light kiss on your lips. You decide to interrupt that cuddling moment, you want to think about him, you just want him to be as good as you are. This time, you are the one who will not take no for an answer.

You move to the side putting a hand on his bare chest and make him move making him lie down, you sit up, "Where are you going?" he asks thinking you were getting up. You don't answer, you lean toward him kissing him and then with your hands you go down his abdomen, then you look at him "If you don't want to, you don't have to..." he makes to say, but you interrupt him by kissing him on the lips again.

"Shut up and tell me what to do," you tell him, looking into his hazel eyes and you see his eyes become even darker, you settle between his legs, open his belt and then unbutton his pants, as you make these gestures you look for his eyes. You see his tense but at the same time yearning expression. He swallows and nods as if to reassure you that you are not doing wrong. He lifts his pelvis helping you take his pants off, he remains in boxers and his arousal is huge, you open your eyes wide in disbelief.

"It's not gonna fit," you comment in a breathy voice.

"It will, don't be afraid." he tells you noticing your expression.

"I'm not," you tell him, fear no, but concern yes. He sits up kissing you on the lips making a hand wander from your cheek until he slips it into your hair as if to reassure you, then he goes back to lying down and helps you take his boxers off and, if covered his erection seemed big to you, it's even bigger now. He's big, you swallow, you're fascinated by the veins running through him and the round pinkish glans. "May I?" you ask without being able to stop looking at his cock.

"Yes." he answers you, holding his breath as you grip him with your hand. He's hard, but at the same time soft, you find yourself swallowing, you can't wrap him completely, then he wraps your hand in his and moves it up and down, "Like this," he whines and when he has figured out that you have figured it out how to give him pleasure, he lets go to your hand and surrenders to your rhythmic caress.

You don't know whether it's more erotic to clench his intimacy in your fist or whether it's more so his tense expression, his clenched jaw, his lips parted, his eyes closed, his heavy breathing that breaks as you reach the tip and return to the hilt, "Am I doing it right?" you ask him noticing a light layer of sweat on his forehead.

"Yeah. . . 's fine," he replies breathlessly "You're fucking perfect." he adds opening his eyes and looking at you focused on him, "You're a natural." he comments closing his eyes.

"This?" you ask him, alluding to the scrotum, you know what it is, but you don't know whether touching it's pleasant or bothersome.

"You can touch it if you want," he replies looking into your eyes through almost clenched teeth.

"And does it feel you good?" you ask him, he nods clenching his jaw again and closing his eyes, you resume to stroke him and he in response makes an almost animalistic sound "Did I hurt you?"

"No, go on, go on." he answers you, at that moment you notice a drop of transparent and viscous fluid leaking from his glans, you swallow, you don't know if you'll do well, but you run your hand over him and he almost jumps opening his eyes suddenly "Fuck. . ."

"Hurt?" you ask him spreading that liquid along his shaft.

He reaches out to your breast, squeezes it gently, while you gasp, closing your eyes for a moment. His large, warm hand gently caresses first one breast and then the other, at the same time you continue your stroking movements.

"No, you're. . ." he swallows exhaling noisily through his nostrils as you continue pumping alternating between a slower and a faster gesture until he opens his eyes and exclaims "Stop!" this exclamation leaves you dumbfounded "Stop." he repeats in a peremptory tone and you stop immediately, "Lie down." he tells you making you lie down almost abruptly.

"Did I do something wrong?" you ask him worried that you hurt him.

"No, I want to come on you." you'd be blushed at another time if you had heard him talk that way, but not now, not with him towering over you as he pleasures himself with quick movements, "Hold still like that, honey." he tells you as he continues to touch himself and groaning and moaning uncontrollably. The image of him on top of you, his fist pumping his cock, his moans getting louder and louder send you into ecstasy, then a whitish hot liquid leaks out of his tip and squirts onto your belly. He lets out an animalistic cry as he closes his eyes, then all is silent. There is only his erratic breathing and you staring at him with lust-filled eyes and observing the pitiful state he is in now.

After a while he opens his eyes and looks you in the eye, "Hold on, honey, I'll go get you a towel," he says getting to his feet and moving away from you. You wait for him without being able to stop looking at what he has left on you, you never thought that you could make him come.

He lays the washcloth on your belly helping you clean yourself, then adds, "If you want, you can take a shower." you still nod wordlessly. When you are completely clean, you get up and throw the washcloth away, look at him and find him staring at you. You never thought you'd see him naked or you'd have been able to stand in his presence completely naked, you thought you'd feel uncomfortable or that you'd run to cover yourself right away, but instead. . .

He comes up to you wrapping his arm around you at waist level bringing you closer to him and kissing you deeply, "We can shower together" he says kissing you softly making you smile.

You remember when you first thought that you would want Joel with you in the shower, nothing had happened between the two of you yet, but you already wanted him. You didn't imagine what it would really be like, you only had an idea, a vague and imprecise idea.

You brought things with you to play, but you don't play.

You live.

The next day, you are back at his place, he is waiting for you outside his house. He smiles at you, gives you a little hug, he's afraid that someone might see you and therefore get you into trouble. Then, you get into his SUV and drive off. You can't stop looking at him, you smile at him, you are happy. He too returns the look and the smile by intertwining his hand with yours and gently kissing the back of your hand. You don't know where you are going, but you don't care, you are with him: wherever will be fine.

Joel drives for what to you seems only a few minutes, slowly leaving the city and turning onto a gravel road, the vegetation is thicker there. You look puzzled at the driver, who nevertheless watches the road carefully; you look ahead again, trying to figure out where you are going. It is not the cabin, but where. . .?

When he stops, before your eyes there's a hill overlooking the Lake, you open your lips and eyes wide, then you look toward Joel who is watching you with smiling eyes, you go back to look toward the Lake surrounded by trees of many pastel colors. You are breathless.

You look at Joel with bright eyes, remembering when you told him what you had never done, and on your bucket list there was actually going to the Lake. The water is barely rippled by the wind, but the thing that fascinates you most moving from the cobblestone road is climbing the two sheer steel ramps that pass through the woods. You place your hands on the balustrade and enjoy the sight of it all.

The man next to you follows you silently, says nothing, just watches you. His eyes are shining, a light illuminating his face too. Joel's heart is full of joy at knowing you are happy, at seeing your eyes full of light, he would like to see you always like this.

Perhaps it is a foolish hope, but it is what he hopes for you.

You turn to him in a long silent smile.

You don't know what to say, he has left you completely speechless and breathless. You look at him spellbound, his hazel eyes in that light seem to be the color of honey, his gently windswept hair is a messy cluster of dark curls, his lips curved upward.

His is a heavenly portrait in a breathtaking place.

"I love you." you tell him before you think about. But those three words came out of your heart after all you've been through together, after all your first times together, after he brought you to this place.

Joel cannot hide the emotion that crosses his face, his eyes, "Oh, baby." he tells you, sinking his hands into your hair and resting them at the base of the nape of your neck, "I love you too."

[picturejasper20]

Danny Phantom:A Glitch in Time-Vlad Masters Character analysis

A Glitch in Time puts Vlad Masters in a different role that he has been always presented in the main show: Instead of the main antagonist role, he acts more as anti-hero protagonist in the graphic novel story. He joins forces with Danny, Sam and Tucker and works together with them to look for the true source of ghost power and defeat Dan Phantom.

Having in mind that ¨A Glitch in Time¨ takes place around a month after the events of Phantom Planet, Masters finds himself having lost all the political power, social position and control he built for decades, either by using his powers to steal money or manipulating people around him. In addition to this, everyone knows his identity as ghost and what kind of person he really is now, meaning he is considered an enemy everyone and basically everyone hates him.

As he explains to Danny: ¨But upon arrival, I realized… i have nothing left to return to¨. In this context he wasn’t only refering to political power and money he had, he was refering to the fact that now he was truly alone, no one missed him nor wanted him around, since they knew what kind of person he was. Even the ones that considered him their best friend, Maddie and Jack, hated him. For once, Vlad couldn’t put the blame in anybody else for his situation but himself.

The issue is that at the start of the graphic novel Masters knows that he did something wrong to end up in this situation but he didn’t know what he did wrong. He still hadn’t fully reconsidered how his obsession with being in control and manipulative behaviour pushed everyone away and how going back in time wasn’t going to fix his actions. Clockwork pointed out how Vlad had many times to do the right think and instead choose to be obsessed with getting revenge and control others.

If there is one way i would define Vlad in this story is ¨lost¨: It feels like he isn’t sure of what he wants to do or what he wants to be, like there is a part of him that wants things to go back the used to be while other part of him doesn’t want to be in the ¨villain role¨ anymore. And, because he doesn’t want to deal with these thoughts, he comes up with this idea to look for this original source of ghost power as a way to distract himself for having to think of this emptiness he feels now, much like he always did when it came to dealing with his own loneliness, always looking for some new power to fill the void he had.

One thing i would argue, is that Masters was already changing in some ways when he went to Danny for help. He expressed to be more aware of how his actions were affecting others, such as acknowledging that he was ¨the last person who Danny wanted to see¨ and half admitting he shared the blame for the timeline being in danger since he accidentally freed Dan Phantom. As it was discussed earlier, Vlad was aware that he did something something wrong, just not what was it.

To expand in this point more, Vlad never does anything that could be considered ¨evil¨ while working with the heroes. He never makes jokes about Jack or makes comments about how he is going to make Danny turn into his pupil. Even when he complains a few times, he is shown to be quite collaborative with Danny and the rest. In part, this could be because he knows better than to argue against the person he went to ask for help, but it still interesting aspect to analyse.

Another thing worth of analysing are his reactions to seeing Danny being supported and appreciated by his friends and family. He is shown to be annoyed or confused when he sees this happening. While it is not explained, it could be a sign of jealousy from his part as Danny has people that care about him and help him, something he wished he had. It could also remind him of how he used to be friends with Jack and Maddie and how things went wrong between them. Some people have pointed out that these moments are one of the things that leads to Vlad to change his old ways later in the story, pushing him to be a better person.

Now there are two crucial things that leads to Vlad to finally rexamine his past actions and to start to redeem himself: 1) Learning about the truth origin of ghost powers 2) Learning about Dan and his origins, specially in the final fight

Lets talk about these scenes in separate points:

1) Learning about the truth origin of ghost powers

After the protagonists listen to Tucker PDA’s translation of the old runes they found, they learn that ghost and human world used to be connected or be ¨one¨ and were separated. That ghosts in some way are manifestations of human emotions, such as sadness, love and wrath. While the teens discuss the meaning behind the runes, Vlad goes through a bit of…  a mental breakdown to put it lightly.

¨This is RIDICULOUS! Where´s the rest of it? () ¨Great question, Daniel! What Am I doing? I wasted years of my life piecing together clues for the ultimate power source and for what? Story time?¨

Unlike Danny, Vlad seems to struggle a lot at first with the idea of emotions being the true source of ghost energy. He considers the idea too ¨ridiculous¨ to be real and treats it as it was a child story. And this is not that surprising to see since he was expecting some type of artifact or powerful weapon instead of something more abstract.

It does makes sense for Vlad to not understand this idea at first because he is more logical driven and he isn’t that connected to his emotional part like Danny is. The runes talk about being ¨finding yourself¨, as in the sense that a ghost should examine what they really want to do or be or they could get lost in the process. This is an ability that Master lost over time as he got more and more consumed by his obsession over his past and ways to fill his own loneliness.

Danny talks about how he doesn’t want to ¨hunt ghosts¨ and instead wants to be a bridge between human and ghost worlds to help both human and ghosts. He gets his powers back like they used to be before he lost his emotional drive. After Vlad sees evidence of what the teens were discussing,he starts to have some real changes on his character. Vlad realizes that emotions and purposes are what drives ghosts and it isn’t a simple old silly story.

While that is a bit open up to interpretation what is going on in Vlad’s mind when he sees Danny getting back his powers, it is easy to see that itself inspires him to revalue what he really wants for himself and if what he has been doing so far has been making him happy or miserable. It someway it leads him to think about himself and what has he been doing until now with his own life, the same way that Danny did to find a new emotional purpose.

What’s more, Masters seems to have a new found respect for Danny after this event. He is seen saving and protecting him multiple times in their battle against Dan Phantom. He treats Danny as more of an equal than someone to turn into his pupil. This could be because, unlike him, Danny was able to figure out way quicker how the nature of ghosts powers worked and didn’t considered the legend a joke. Another aspect is that Vlad starts to see himself as a ¨bridge between the human and ghost world¨ and how instead of fighting Danny he should be helping him and supporting him. As both being ghost-human hybrids, they should work together to fix this issue.

I talked more about these moments in here. (Also, there is a comment that explains well the last point)

2) Learning about Dan and his origins, specially in the final fight

When Vlad first meets Dan he learns about how Dan is part of Danny’s ghost half and his ghost half, Plasmius and he is from another timeline. This moment itself doesn’t trigger an important change in Vlad’s character as more than he learns what Dan is.

It’s during the final fight that there is a moment Dan provokes Plasmius while he is beating him down. He tells Vlad that he made him and how this is what ¨he always wanted¨. Dan gives Vlad a terrible physical and emotional beatdown that makes Vlad finally realize how obsession with getting power was so self-destructive and how part of himself is what makes Dan act the way he does, having to ¨see himself in a mirror¨.

There is also a lot of Vlad always wishing for Daniel to join him and becoming his pupil and him seeing the results of what he ¨wanted¨ in here: The results being an very powerful version of Danny who destroys everything in his path and with no sense of morals. Making Vlad realize that he doesn’t want Danny to be like this or turn into someone like that.

In a brief moment Vlad begs for Dan to stop saying these things and says ¨that was a different me¨, trying to separate himself from the alternative version of himself who accidentally created Dan Phantom. Dan reminds Masters that he isn’t any different and his goals were still the same as his alternative version.This is what i personally consider the final ¨push¨ that Vlad’s character need to decide to not go back the way he used to be and to start making amends for his very selfish and controlling actions.

It is seeing what he could become-and Daniel had he joined him- if he had continued this path, something that is even too far and cruel even for someone like him.

Finding a new purpose

When Dan is about to destroy Danny, Danny asks him ¨Why you are so angry?¨, Dan tries to deny that he has emotions like anyone else and he has ¨transended that weakness¨. Suddenly Vlad transforms into Plamius and tells Dan that his wrong since half of him, the Plasmius part, is ¨full of fear¨.

Then what follows is a struggle between Vlad and Dan’s powers and Vlad admitting how his obsession with controlling others drove everyone away, including his close friends Jack and Maddie.

¨Why amass all this power?¨ ¨For control!¨ ¨Why control others?¨ ¨So no one else leaves…¨

¨All i ever wanted was love, but my quest for power drove everyone away. Maddie, Jack… and even young Daniel¨.

This is what Vlad has always been at his core: A broken man that since the accident back in his collegue years and being abandoned by his close friends in a time of need (at least from what it has been implied), became obsessed with being in control of his relationships with others so nobody else could leave him behind again or he couldn’t be hurt again. This is something that often happens with characters that have had things that made their lives spiral out of control, usually as result of being hurt by someone they cared about. To compensante for that lack of control they had in their lives, they try to control people or their own relationships, because they are afraid of being abandoned or hurt again.

Vlad Masters became consumed by this desire to be in control and as result he pushed everyone away. He always looked for something almost every person wants: Being loved and accepted by others. The issue is that he chose the most toxic ways to do this, hurting people that cared about him or could have been potential friends/allies.

And, as a way to distract himself from these feelings of emptiness, he always looked for more and more power- but that was never enough because it wasn’t what truly would make him happy. This is why in the series his arc was about self-desctruction, until he was left with no one that cared about him and finally ending up truly alone. You can see this habit come up again in the graphic novel, as he suggested to find the source of ghost power. Because it was a way to distract his mind from his real issues and having to think about himself. It could be in part that Vlad thought that if he could gain some power, he could be in control again and then he didn’t have to be alone, that things could back they used to be before the Disasteroid.

After Vlad comes in terms with how the problem has always been himself, he decides that his new purpose is going to start making amends and redemming himself for his past actions, leaving behind his obsession to be in control. He helps Danny and they fight together against Dan, defeating him in the process.

Helping Dan

Some moments after Dan gets defeated, he starts to destabilize since he has been outside the timestream for too long.Danny, Vlad and Clockwork discuss if t it is a good idea to trap Dan inside the thermos again until they are interrupted by Dan crying and begging to not be left trapped inside the thermos as he doesn’t want to be alone again.

In a rare moment, Plasmius sympathizes with Dan Phantom, he transforms and frees the ghost, offering his body as a temporal host until they are able to find a way to stabilize him. He expresses that he relates himself to Dan’s fear of being alone and, just like him, he has lost everything in his own timeline no other than by his own hands.

This is important coming from Vlad, a character who was defined by his selfishness and exploiting others for his own gain, showing to be selfless and empathizing with someone’s else pain. As he points out to Danny, he is trying to do the right thing for once, which is taking accountability of his actions and helping another person. Vlad explains to both Dan and Danny that this gesture is a way for him to apologize for his actions and showing that he regrets hurting both of them. He wants to give Dan a ¨second chance¨ and asks Danny if he could give another chance to make things right to him too. Dan accepts the offer, using Vlad’s body as a temporal host.

What it is interesting about this scene is that Vlad asks Danny for a second chance, but he doesn’t ask for his forgiveness. While he apologizes for how much he hurt him, he respects Danny’s choice of not forgiving him or still hating him, showing that he knows that Danny has a right to dislike him after everything he putt he boy through. It’s a good way of demostrating that he has still a long way to go for making up for his actions and he understand this.

I talked a bit more in detail about this scene and why is pretty good in here

Vlad is last seen with Clockwork transfering Dan to one of Danny’s clones that was in Vlad’s lab. Clockwork explains to Vlad that Dan is ¨his responsibility now¨ as even his time powers have a limit. The ending suggest that Dan ends up being taken care of and probably adopted by Vlad, acting as a father figure for him and having the opportunity to be a teenager and have a family again.

In conclusion

Vlad Masters’ character arc in ¨A Glitch in Time¨ is about him realizing that he doesn’t want to be in ¨villain role¨ anymore and having to face the fact that he is the reason he ended up alone and pushed everyone away. Despite of trying to distract himself from this by seeking a new source of power, at the end he realices that his manipulative behaviour made everyone, including himself, miserable.

It’s worth of noting that his arc in this story isn’t a full redemption arc but the start of one. He starting to make amends for his past actions by awknologing what he did wrong and taking care of Dan, who was accidentally freed by Vlad in first place. It’s clear that he has still a lot to make up for and it’s going to take him a long time for him to do that. He is now guardian and ¨parent¨ of Dan. Vlad always dreames with having a family, specially raising up someone who was human-ghost hybrid like him. Now he is going to have to learn what is like to be a father and taking care of someone with a complicated past as his child.

[thebeautysurrounds]

I’ve been thinking a lot about how people’s reactions to certain queer shows and something I think we need to examine how we treat more ‘dark’ and ‘emotional’ shows versus more ‘happy’ shows in this case I’m gonna be talking about the “debate” between Young Royals and Heartstopper.

Firstly these shows exist in two different lanes, and draw in two different audiences and potential age ranges, in my opinion, Young Royals is for older teenagers (think juniors or seniors or someone who is about to graduate high school and is going into college) while Heartstopper is geared towards those who are just starting high school or in the middle of it and is in that transitional period of their lives. Obviously, if you are not in these age ranges you can still consume and enjoy these shows, But I want to discuss how people act like they both can’t exist and you can’t like both or both shows existing for a reason. I’ve never really been a fan of punching down or belittling queer media (unless it’s harmful) Queer media in all forms is still lacking (especially those mediums centering WLW relationships). That being said the debate of which show is better is honestly so tired.

For people who say Young Royals is so much better (don’t get me wrong it is an amazing show and by all means like whatever you want) but liking it more because it’s “darker and more realistic” compared to Heartstopper which is "much happier" and "unrealistic," To me is so disingenuous because firstly so what? campy shows that feature queer characters deserve to be unrealistic, What's wrong with being unrealistic? Queer media has been subject to the Burry Your Gays narrative for decades or extremely unhealthy tropes and storylines so what's so wrong with having storylines and shows that are unrealistic or extremely happy? (even though the themes in Heartstopper are realistic).

Have you thought about how that may be an intentional choice? Now bare with me here this may be my over-analytic brain at work but Heartstopper has more or less some of the same themes as Young Royals just shot in a very vibrant and colorful manner to showcase how happy and colorful young love is BUT if you actually have watched the show or read the graphic novels you would know the show and graphic novels cover some heavy themes.

SPOILERS AFTER THIS POINT……

I want you to keep the song Pumped up Kicks by Foster the People in mind throughout this...I have a point I promise. Heartstopper is shot in a very poppy colorful way and in my opinion, symbolizes how when you’re young and in love everything feels warm, colorful, and vibrant. While Young Royals doesn't utilize this cinematic style they do use some form of vibrancy to convey tone and emotion. In Young Royals many of the scenes featuring Simon and Willhem's 'good moments' feature the sun especially shining on Simon when Willie is looking at him or whenever they are just in each other's company, this is especially prominent in the last scenes of the last two episodes of season 3.

So while people's criticisms of Heartstopper can be warranted (not saying you can't dislike the show) the comments that it's just so bubbly and bright just aren't true. The last season of Heartstopper saw multiple characters go through traumatic situations and it has been building up that way from the very first scenes in the first season of the show (but for the sake of time I'm only going to discuss both main characters in the two shows) Charlie not only is still struggling with being outed but is also battling with an eating disorder, this is foreshadowed throughout the first two seasons leading up to its inevitable blatant reveal when he is at dinner with Nick and his family where Nick starts to piece together why he is never hungry, passed out on the Paris trip and never finishes his food, which leads his to eventually research the signs of an ED. Nick is also still figuring himself out when it comes to his Bisexuality, while also dealing with the feelings of, feeling abandoned by his father, and having to reckon with the fact his brother is not supportive and dismissive of his sexuality and relationship.

Now before I said keep Pumped Up Kicks in mind that's because while this song has an upbeat, catchy tempo the song actually has a really dark undertone and meaning. So while Heartstopper is shot in a very vibrant colorway most of its characters and content of the show deal with dark themes and it's not all just a happy love story, and if the script for the next season follows the graphic novel closely, then we will see the characters go through even more challenges which also falls inline with the "darker" more emotionally message of the show. So to end this so it doesn't become a dissertation, both shows more or less have the same themes they just exist in two different lanes, I don't know why exactly people are fighting for one to be more valid than the other. When both can exist and be impactful to both or each audience, more queer shows need to exist where the characters are just happy and in love and I need y'all to unpack why you view more doom and gloom (for a lack of a better word) queer shows or movies are more valid than ones where the characters are just happy and have relatively in some aspects great experience when it comes to young love and figuring out one's identity. Sepreatlty why do you want these characters to suffer to find love? Why do characters have to go through something traumatic for their identity to be more valid and for you to relate and want to root for it more versus the latter?

Anyway, this was longer than I intended it to be but I just had to get my thoughts out there. TL;DR: Heartstopper and Young Royals are two great shows and if you think one is better than the other cause it has darker themes you are missing the point or probably objectively missed the dark undertones of the show, and one isn't more valuable than the other.

[sketching-shark]

I was curious to know, is there a specific adaptation of JTTW that you particularly enjoy? Whether its good or accurate isnt important but more like in your personal taste

AUGH going to be honest @seasonalsummers in that I don't feel like I can pick just one...there's so many excellent retellings! But I will take this opportunity to present some of my favorites.

So first up we have the 1986 Journey to the West tv series. It is in many ways very goofy and gaudy, but there's just as many reasons why it's considered one of the best retellings out there, from its genuine heart to the adherence to the og classic. And needless to say its Sun Wukong really set a standard for cheeky scheming monkey behavior. You can start watching it here:

Next up is 2016s The Monkey King 2. While this film is one of those retellings that gives the White Bone Demon a lot more prominence than she has in the og classic--and definitely has its own silly stupid moments--it also stands as one of the very few retellings that directly addresses the paradox of Tang Sanzang's mission: that he's trying to get the sutras to help mortals achieve a state of peace all while abhorring violence, and yet its only because of the violence of his disciples, especially Sun Wukong, that he's able to right a number of wrongs or simply go from day to day uneaten. You can watch it here:

And now it's time to give kudos to 2015's Monkey King: Hero Is Back. While this film is FAR from a faithful retelling and (usual refrain) has its own silliness, pretty simple plot, and gross-out humor, it also has so much heart and stands as a wonderful embodiment of the dad Wukong characterization. One also has to give it credit for its main child character, Jiang Liuer, being a genuinely charming kid who's wonder at the world and desire to do good drives the story forward in a sincerely lovely way. You can watch it here:

More recently--and in a work that is at best only loosely following the plot of Xiyouji--is 2022's Lighting Up the Stars. This film follows the story of a Li Nezha coded little orphan girl Wu Xiaowen and a Sun Wukong coded funeral director Mo Sanmei as they go from a very tense relationship to a genuinely loving father-daughter relationship. While there are moments of this film that feel kind of overwrought, it's an honestly wonderful exploration of what goes into dealing with death and the importance of love in all its many forms during life. I also have a soft spot for Mo Sanmei, who from what I've seen is the very peak of explicitly shitty cringefail loser who then genuinely works hard to become a better person Sun Wukong out there. It can be watched here:

Turning away from film and animation for a moment, I simply have to give proper kudos to Chaiko Tsai's comic The Monkey King. Between the gorgeous art, fun character designs, a good sense of how to translate many of the stories of Xiyouji into comic format, and a resolution to the Sun Wukong vs. Niu Mowang fight that I actually prefer above that in Journey to the West itself, this is definitely a comic worth going through! You can purchase it here for about $30.00

And last but certainly not least, one simply has to give due credit to 1964's Uproar in Heaven. It's an absolute gem of stylized Chinese animation, a work with the very rare allowance on the Monkey King getting to go full grandpa for tons upon tons of monkeys at Mt. Huaguoshan, and it's very faithful to the first half of the og classic with the difference that here Sun Wukong does his havoc in heaven and gets away with it. All around its a really fun work to watch and does have a lot of importance from both an animation and a historical perspective. You can watch it here:

So those are my favorite adaptations of Journey to the West! It's but a fraction of the adaptations out there, but I hope other people found these as fun as I do.