#me: a quick tl;dr!!!!

[meltedmush]

how long does it take you to draw your sketches/doodles? also do you have any tips to draw faster? 🙇‍♀️

I generally take 30 - 60 minutes a sketch,,,, but honestly really depends on how detailed it is.

Like a Chibi will be done in 20 - 25 minutes (Counting in the extra time I spend on minute details like a perfectionist 😭)

I for some reason really like spending egregious amounts of time on random objects too??? Unless it’s the in the background, I’ll spend 40 minutes refining it.

Random characters that are fully colored and rendered with take like 80 minutes.

The comics take usually take an hour or two per page. (If I decide to cross hatch it, my entire day will be gone with 4 pages… so I’ve been trying to find shortcuts. But not without sacrificing the quality for time lol)

I don’t think there’s any trick or magic to drawing faster. It’s really about weaponizing your artistic knowledge, and finding what’s comfortable or convenient for you!

There was a period of time where I would spend 11 or 12 hours on an illustration, and it wASS UGLYYYYY. (Some of these artworks are still available on my tumblr,,, but it’s SO LONG AGO, AND IT WAS MY 1ST OR 2ND YEAR GETTING INTO DIGITAL ART)

Overtime I learned what worked best for me, and practiced till I felt more comfortable with what I was drawing. Eventually I managed to shorten the time to 4 hours or less! Ambition was my biggest enemy but at the same time my biggest motivator. (And it still is LMFAO) 😭

EDIT (bit more to my way too long tangent): ALSO??? BRO DON’T BE AFRAID TO USE YOUR MESSY SKETCH AS LINEART OR DRAW ON TOP OF IT. I’VE DONE IT FOR YEARS NOW AND IT ADDS SUCH A GOOD EXTRA BIT OF TEXTURE,, AT THIS POINT I DON’T EVEN USE LINE-ART ANY MORE UNLESS IT’S A COMMISSION,, (IT’LL ADD LIKE AN 2-4 HOURS TO MY WORK)

[gu6chan]

work related question does anyone have any fun anime for likely 12-14 year olds that to their ulta-conservative conspiracy theory parents would have no objectionable content whatsoever that's not like . pokemon. i live in the most conservative area in michigan btw /hj

[leatherbookmark]

it's interesting how both work remixes highlight how bare and short the original song is. in the don diablo remix, jongho's high note gets extended, and in the edenary remix, the first chorus gets re-edited as a prechorus leading into an instrumental chorus, and then they add a ~3 seconds long transition into hongjoong's verse. all those changes sound better than the original, because you need breathing space and pacing for a song to sound good.

i'm still wondering whether they'll return to Good Musicmaking with the next comeback, or keep on doing those atz-flavoured chill vibes over and over because it's what's currently popular :']

[mangled-by-disuse]

I have such mixed feelings about the love languages thing specifically, because, like, gary chapman fucking sucks and there's no scientific validity to his work BUT

at the same time, i do think there's some value in recognising and discussing the fact that different people need different expressions of love in different amounts? Especially in relationships.

Like, I have just recently been having a discussion with my partner about how he really doesn't tend to express his affection through gifts, whereas (as someone who is mega-bad at expressing sincere feeling) I do rely heavily on giving gifts and doing things for people as a less scary way to express love. Joe doesn't like giving gifts, because he's scared he'll do it wrong, and is only so-so on receiving them. He prefers to express love through physical contact and saying nice things. I hate having nice things said to me unless I am allowed to immediately rebut them with a joke or sarcastic comment that makes them less scarily close to emotional honesty. too many words of affirmation and i will genuinely just start avoiding you because it is painfully awkward to me.

and none of that means we are fundamentally different categories of people, which is where the 5 Love Languages stuff falls into being absolute bollocks. but I have seen, and done, enough throwing the baby out with the bathwater on that to be a little defensive - I think reasonable applications of the concept are actually really quite valuable. and for me, the taxonomy Chapman suggests (words of affirmation, quality time, gifts, acts of service, physical touch) while not at all exhaustive or thorough, is a useful framework to hang those conversations on. bc, like, no, the way people communicate and receive affection is not universal, and from personal experience, assuming that it is can have really significant problems for a relationship.

...you could argue that this is parallel to BMI in terms of "tools being used in totally not the way they should be used" though, tbf.

I can't keep having the same conversations about love languages, mbti, iq, bmi, "brain fully formed at 25" and shit over and over again...

[insert-witty-user-name-here]

Quick reminder as we head into Trump’s first week in office. We are about to see an onslaught of executive actions designed to strip of us our rights. We’ve seen this before.

Many of them won’t be legal, many of them won’t take effect immediately, and some of them will be just plain nonsense. Trump alone can’t change the law (yet anyway- that’s Congress) and there is an official government process for enacting most executive actions that works slowly.*

There will be time to fight against these orders—either by stopping them entirely, weakening them, or at least slowing them down.

The purpose of doing so many terrible things at once is to scare us. Is to intimidate us to cede more ground than we need to. Don’t let them.

Stay engaged, stay angry, stay hopeful (or spiteful- me tbh), and—most importantly—stay strategic. Find an organization you trust, follow them, and take action when they ask you to.

(Side note- pick just a few issues to care deeply about and only follow a few organizations you trust. Don’t try to solve everything all the time or consume every piece of news. You WILL burn yourself out and that’s not helpful for anyone. Trust me, speaking from experience. Staying 15% engaged is better than 120% for three months and then 0%).

What we’re seeing right now is a backlash to decades of progress—a dying (and by extension dangerous I’m not gonna lie) breath of those in power desperate to maintain control. They wouldn’t be trying to squash us if there wasn’t something to squash.

TL;DR- there’s gonna be a lot of bad stuff in the news today. Don’t give into panic. There will be time to fight most of it. Stay engaged.

*Unfortunately, there will be some actions the President can control on his own and will take effect immediately. ICE Raids being one of them. Here’s a Know Your Rights factsheet. To learn more and stay informed on this issue, recommend following National Immigration Law Center, CASA, Immigrant Defense Project.

[knifebaby3000]

hi! do you have your commission info posted somewhere?

hi thank you for the ask!!! i still don’t have a menu pulled together, sorry 🙈💦 but pls shoot me an email at bab33si @ gmail and we can talk abt your vision.....!

in case it’s helpful, the commissions i’ve done recently went for about $200 each, thru paypal - you get the full 300dpi ~A4 img and whatever tiny version i post here! v happy to work on a sliding scale/within a budget so don’t be shy

[curlicuecal]

playing science telephone

Hi folks. Let's play a fun game today called "unravelling bad science communication back to its source."

Journey with me.

Saw a comment going around on a tumblr thread that "sometimes the life expectancy of autism is cited in the 30s"

That number seemed..... strange. The commenter DID go on to say that that was "situational on people being awful and not… anything autism actually does", but you know what? Still a strange number. I feel compelled to fact check.

Quick Google "autism life expectancy" pulls up quite a few websites bandying around the number 39. Which is ~technically~ within the 30s, but already higher than the tumblr factoid would suggest. But, guess what. This number still sounds strange to me.

Most of the websites presenting this factoid present themselves as official autism resources and organizations (for parents, etc), and most of them vaguely wave towards "studies."

Ex: "Above And Beyond Therapy" has a whole article on "Does Autism Affect Life Expectancy" and states:

The link implies that it will take you to the "research studies" being referenced, but it in fact takes you to another random autism resource group called.... Songbird Care?

And on that website we find the factoid again:

Ooh, look. Now they've added the word "some". The average lifespan for SOME autistic people. Which the next group erased from the fact. The message shifts further.

And we have slightly more information about the study! (Which has also shifted from "studies" to a singular "study"). And we have another link!

Wonderfully, this link actually takes us to the actual peer-reviewed 2020 study being discussed. [x]

And here, just by reading the abstract, we find the most important information of all.

This study followed a cohort of adolescent and adult autistic people across a 20 year time period. Within that time period, 6.4% of the cohort died. Within that 6.4%, the average age of death was 39 years.

So this number is VERY MUCH not the average age of death for autistic people, or even the average age of death for the cohort of autistic people in that study. It is the average age of death IF you died young and within the 20 year period of the study (n=26), and also we don't even know the average starting age of participants without digging into earlier papers, except that it was 10 or older. (If you're curious, the researchers in the study suggested reduced self-sufficiency to be among the biggest risk factors for the early mortality group.)

But the number in the study has been removed from it's context, gradually modified and spread around the web, and modified some more, until it is pretty much a nonsense number that everyone is citing from everyone else.

There ARE two other numbers that pop up semi-frequently:

One cites the life expectancy at 58. I will leave finding the context for that number as an exercise for the audience, since none of the places I saw it gave a direct citation for where they were getting it.

And then, probably the best and most relevant number floating around out there (and the least frequently cited) draws from a 2023 study of over 17,000 UK people with an autism diagnosis, across 30 years. [x] This study estimated life expectancies between 70 and 77 years, varying with sex and presence/absence of a learning disability. (As compared to the UK 80-83 average for the population as a whole.)

This is a set of numbers that makes way more sense and is backed by way better data, but isn't quite as snappy a soundbite to pass around the internet. I'm gonna pass it around anyway, because I feel bad about how many scared internet people I stumbled across while doing this search.

People on quora like "I'm autistic, can I live past 38"-- honey, YES. omg.

---

tl;dr, when someone gives you a number out of context, consider that the context is probably important

also, make an amateur fact checker's life easier and CITE YOUR SOURCES

[wernerherzogs]

.

[jackgoodfellow]

ONCE AGAIN LOOKING FOR FEEDBACK FROM WHEELCHAIR USERS! 💖♿😎

TL;DR - These are newly proposed blueprints for renovating the basement of an incredibly cool queer/BIPOC-run affordable housing co-op in my city, with the aim of creating an ACCESSIBLE community space and mutual aid hub!

If you have a moment, please take either a quick or a long look at these images, and let me know what stands out to YOU as good/bad/missing/in-need-of-change! Or just let me know what you need in a public space in order to feel welcome, especially as it pertains to wheelchair lifts!

ANY amount of feedback is so, SO appreciated!! ☺️

More (optional) detail, if you want:

I have one "BEFORE" blueprint, and three updated proposal blueprints for what the space could look like AFTER renovation.

In the long-term, the co-op is planning to install an elevator to serve all 5 floors of the building, including the basement. But in the short-term, with their current funding, the plan is to install a wheelchair lift that goes from outside the first floor, down to the inside of the basement.

The "AFTER" blueprints include widening the hallways by several inches.

I am going to recommend a changing table for the bathroom; ideally, an adult-sized changing table. Idk yet if they can afford to remove the shower that's there now.

I am also going to double-check with the designers that all the proposed door widths are wide enough for a large wheelchair to get through. In this current scale, several openings appear to be too small.

The goal of the community space is to provide a mutual aid hub - providing food, supplies, space to meet, and emergency preparedness for the community!

Thank you very very much!! :)

- Jack

[keiyoomi]

[ilikeevilblondes]

Drawn Shut

(pt 2 of Wide Open -- but can be read as a standalone!)

18+ MDNI!

Summary: After ages of teasing your neighbour from across the street, you do what any reasonable person would do, and fuck yourself in front of him. And then you invite him over.

TL;DR: Joel finally gets to fuck the voyeuristic girl next door.

W.C: ~5.0k

Warnings: Pervyneighbour!joel x reader, degradation, fingering, p-in-v sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink SORRY, spanking for a hot sec SORRY AGAIN, just like pervy joel in general, implied age gap (20s/40s), mean!joel kind of, old man joel also can’t stop coming, he's got a lot to give (no outbreak!)

Note: this originally wasn’t supposed to have a sequel, but due to popular demand, i give you this horny clusterfuck. as they say in france, bone apple tits, y’all. |Tagging: @doeeyestoji, @dean-and-baby343, @nycweb-slinger, @alfiestreacle, @vixorell, @bbyanarchist, @whaddupbaby, @ashleyfilm, @lizaispunk|

Part One | Part Two

Joel raised a hand to knock at the door, but hesitated midway and let his arm fall back by his side.

What the hell was he doing?

Oh, just hopping on over to the neighbour’s house to fuck their daughter. You know, like a good neighbour would.

The events of that night were vividly fresh in his mind; you had deliberately left your blinds open and given a performance to remember. All while Joel fucked his fist across the road. Which you probably wanted him to do, seeing as you invited him over shortly after the spectacle’s denouement via text message.

You: you gonna keep jerking off across the street or are you gonna come over?

You: home alone.

Casting a sideward glance at the lot’s driveway, Joel noted that the usual ever-present SUV parked in front of your garage was distinctly missing.

“Yeah, fuck it,” He said for the second time that night through a sigh, and lifted his fist.

Three sharp raps sounded against the oak door. Quick. Impatient. Harsh.

Almost immediately, the door swung open. Joel was greeted by the sight of you in a big, zipped-up hoodie that fell below your lap, and with messy hair one could only get from the display you had so kindly showed him moments prior.

It was dark out, but the cloak of nightfall was not dark enough to hide the flush of light pink dusting your cheeks when your eyes met his. Almost like you hadn’t expected him to take you up on your offer.

“Took you long enough.” You said airily as you tilted your head and slouched against the doorframe.

“Yeah,” Joel cleared his throat, feigning nonchalance. “Hi, kid.”

“Hi, Mr Miller.” You shifted your weight to lean on your other foot. “You wanna … come inside?”

“I’d love nothin’ more.”

Despite sharing the same street for a year or so, you seldom found yourself face-to-face with Joel without your parents present. 

Of course, not counting the many times you’ve caught glimpses of him from behind the linen curtains of his bedroom. Suffice it to say, it was very easy to distinguish silhouettes and what said silhouettes were doing if the lights were still on while the curtains were drawn.

In other words, tonight wasn’t the first time you’ve caught him fucking his fist.

Joel shut the door behind him as he entered your house, taking a moment to look around as if he hadn’t been received as a guest on a few occasions.

“So.” He crossed his big arms over his torso, the sleeves clinging on for dear life, it seemed. “Your parents…?”

“Out of town. Visiting some relative.” You breathed.

“And that’s why you invited me over, huh?” He stepped closer, his dark eyes lingering on the bit of your bare shoulder that was revealed from the drooping neckline of your oversized hoodie before flickering up to stare into yours.

“Yeah,”

A low, pleased, “naughty girl,” sounded in that rich voice of his just as a ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Across the street from yours. Think you’d know that by now.”

“Very funny, sweetie.”

“Up the stairs. Second room on the right.”

He clicked his tongue in a mock dejected way and then heaved out a sigh. “I’m a visual learner.” 

You grinned. “Come on, then.”

Before you knew it, you led Joel Miller up your stairs. Joel Miller, who had beers with your dad every other Friday or so. Joel Miller, who helped with your yard work. Joel Miller, who was definitely too rough around the edges for you and almost absolutely too old for you.

But as he stepped inside your bedroom, you felt no semblance of regret—only anticipation.

Trying to appear calm and collected (you were definitely no such thing on the inside), you went over to your window to draw the blinds shut. They rattled faintly with a hollow clatter before slanting completely and obscuring your bedroom from the outside world.

Now, it was just you and Joel.

You and Joel.

Holy shit, Joel Miller was in your room.

“Looks different from the inside.” The man of the hour muttered, lingering by your vanity table and taking a framed picture of seven-year-old you in his hands. He angled it toward you amusedly. “Cute,” He hummed.

You flushed slightly and snatched it from his hands.

“That’s private.” You quickly set it down behind you on your dresser.

“Oh, and masturbating in front of me isn’t?” Joel cocked his head to the side, his gaze dragging down your figure. “You’ve got some pretty interestin’ boundaries, sweets.”

You took a gulp, face heating even more at the mention of your recent impropriety.

“Relax, I’m just teasin’.” Joel let out a huff of laughter and shook his head, taking a seat on the edge of your bed.

“I’m relaxed.” You leaned back against the door, watching him with attentive eyes.

“Funny. You don’t seem like it.” Joel raised a dark brow and then beckoned you nearer with an incline of his forefinger. “Come a little closer, darl’. Swear I don’t bite.”

You stepped forward, nearing him to a point where you stood in between his spread legs, directly in front of him.

“This close enough?”

“Just about, yeah.”

Joel reached a hand out toward you but hesitated midair. His dark eyes bore into yours, silently asking for permission.

You nodded.

Satisfied, Joel took the zipper of your hoodie and slowly pulled it down until it stopped just below your collarbone.

Then, he gently tugged it down the neckline, exposing your shoulders one by one.

“You’re tense,” Joel murmured, locking eyes with you and maintaining that eye contact as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your upper arm.

“I’m not.”

“Not a very good liar, either.” He tutted, unzipping your hoodie even more and pulling it down even further, exposing the tops of your breasts.

He wasted no time in exploring the area with his mouth, planting delicate kisses along your sternum. The way in which the warmth of his lips grazed your chest was almost reverent, but definitely too slow.

Joel just barely pulled away to meet your gaze. “If you wanna stop, kid, just say the word, and I’ll stop. Scout’s honour.”

“Well, I don’t want you to.”

“Good.” Joel’s lips pulled upward in a small, if not slightly depraved smile as he leaned back. “Wasn’t so sure I could, anyway. Now, you gonna be a good girl and take everything off for me?”

Zzzzip!

Down fell your hoodie into a limp pile on the hardwood floor of your bedroom.

“Attagirl,” Joel hummed, his half-lidded eyes blatantly admiring the curves of your bare form.

Because, fuck, you were certainly a sight for sore eyes.

“Didn’t bother dressing up fully, hm?” He mused. His hands settled on your upper thighs and caressed lazy circles into your plush skin.

“I can always put the clothes back on,” You offered, looping your arms around his broad shoulders as you looked down at him.

“Nah. I like the view,”

“I know.” You bit back a smile as you slowly straddled him. “‘S why I always left my blinds open.”

Joel hummed, his hands coming to rest on your waist, thumbs still idly tracing indistinguishable shapes into your skin.

“I noticed.” He said.

Being as close as you were to him, you observed that his dilated pupils bled into his eyes, transforming them almost completely into endless pools of black.

“I wanted you to.”

Letting your words sink in, you moved even closer to the point where you were almost certain Joel could feel the way your bare tits pressed up against his chest through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“And to think, this whole time I thought you were a well-behaved little thing, hm?” Joel sighed, leaning forward to let his lips lightly travel down your neck, sending shivers down your spine with each gentle kiss. “Guess I should’ve known.”

You absentmindedly grinded into his lap and whined softly at his teasing.

“Aw, you gotta behave, sweets.” Joel tutted. “Ain’t gonna last long, and I wanna take my time with you.”

“Oh, come on, old man, I didn’t invite you over for the foreplay.”

“Old man, huh?” Joel chuckled. “Tell me, then, baby, what did you invite me over for?” The smile in his voice was evident as he continued to plant light kisses down your neck.

“Do I have to spell it out for you, Mr Miller?”

“Think so.”

And, not even a full beat later—

“Want you to fuck me.”

An airy ‘Jesus fucking Christ’ was all you heard before he suddenly turned you over so you were sprawled on your stomach over his lap and your legs were hanging off the bed.

“They say patience is a virtue, sweetheart.” He said from above you, his voice low and wrecked with lust.

You were about to release a witty retort, but were abruptly cut off by the sound of Joel spitting onto his hand and ghosting his fingers over your slick cunt, only just barely dipping his fingers in between your folds.

Joel’s voice dripped with a saccharine sweetness as he continued, “well, then again, I wouldn’t exactly call myself a virtuous man.”

One thick finger slid easily into your dripping mound, stroking down your pulsating walls.

You were barely given time to process the sensation before a second joined, stretching your cunt deliciously.

You gasped, involuntarily jerking upward, but Joel kept you down with a firm hand against your back as the other crooked inside you at a steady rhythm.

“Shh, shh, you gotta stay still, baby. Gotta take it like a good girl.” He shushed your cries.

Shortly after, he slipped a third finger alongside the initial two, filling you up even more.

“Joel!” You gripped your sheets tightly, still being held down by him.

“I know, baby, I know. ‘S bigger than yours.” He said as his fingers began picking up the pace, dragging against your walls and briskly pumping in and out. “But you’re the one who wanted me to hurry up, hm? Remember that?”

His thumb moved against your clit, pressing down and rubbing incessantly.

Your back arched instinctively off his lap again, but you were once more immobilised by the weight of his large palm.

Then, smack!

A white-hot sensation prickled along your ass, but was subsequently dulled by the feeling of his large hand moving down your back to your ass to cup and soothe your aching skin with gentle caresses.

Did he just… did he just spank you?

“Fuck!” You moaned.

“Told you to stay still.” Joel sighed almost sympathetically as he continued fucking his fingers deep inside your aching cunt. “Should’ve known better than to listen to you. Should’ve taken my time. Pretty young thing like you probably doesn’t know what she really wants, huh? Gotta let me decide for you. Now look at you, drooling on my lap and moaning like a fuckin’ whore.”

But, to you, all his words were drowned out by the high-pitched ringing in your ears that alerted you of your impending climax approaching so quickly you thought you were in danger of blacking out when it came.

“Gonna… gonna…” You managed to whine out as your eyelids fluttered from the pleasure.

“Gonna what, baby?”

Smack!

A broken, pitchy moan escaped your throat, vaguely resembling his name.

“Gonna what?” Joel prompted, his tone still sickeningly sweet, but you were now well aware of the sharp edge beneath it. 

“Gonna come,” You breathed. “Fuck, Joel, gonna come!”

“That right?”

All of a sudden, his fingers pulled out.

What the fuck?

“Sorry, sweets. You’re gonna come on my cock tonight. Nowhere else.” Joel caressed the globe of your ass once more, before patting it twice. “C’mon, now. Sit up. There’s a girl,”

Blinking away the tears threatening to pool in your eyes from the overstimulation, you slowly straightened up on his lap.

“Aw, baby, no. You’re alright,” Joel cooed, bringing a hand to cup your face. 

He then leaned in to press a soft kiss on both of your eyelids, one by one. 

A kiss on your left, then your right.

“You’re alright, hm?”

A peck on your forehead, next.

“Yeah, you’re alright. C’mere,”

And in a light-headed blur, his lips were on yours, moving unhurriedly against your mouth, sucking and nipping at your bottom lip as if savouring the taste of your skin.

You were quick to relent, letting your eyes fall shut and obediently parting your mouth when he swiped his tongue against your lower lip, his scruff rubbing against your chin with every pulse of the kiss.

Joel groaned as he licked desperately into your mouth, his eyebrows knitted together and his other hand coming up to guide you impossibly closer against him.

You were pressed right against him, but he still attempted to bring you closer in vain, possibly not satisfied with your proximity until you were melded together.

Before you knew it, your back fell against the mattress, and Joel was caging you in with his larger frame; big arms snaked around your waist and further up, still, holding you to him by your nape.

“Fuck, you feel like a dream.” He mumbled against your lips. “Can barely hold back from destroying your pretty fuckin’ pussy…”

You mumbled something unintelligible.

“What was that, sweetheart?”

“Shirt.” You repeated, breathless.

“Shirt,” Joel cocked an eyebrow, parroting you in confusion.

“Take off your shirt. Please.”

“Remembered our manners, have we?” Joel laughed lowly and kissed the corner of your mouth. “Only ‘cause you were so polite, baby.”

And, in a flash of plaid flannel, Joel hovered above you, stripped of a shirt.

Thank the fucking lord.

You splayed your hands out on the expanse of his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin leak out onto your palms.

“Jeans, next?” You batted your eyelashes sweetly.

Joel clicked his tongue and pretended to mull the request over, as if he wasn’t already sporting a raging hard-on at the sight of you flushed, naked, and laid out underneath him.

You sighed.

“Please?” You stressed out the syllables.

“There we go.” Joel smiled to himself and leaned back on his haunches to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans.

Sliding the strap from his belt loops and shimmying out of his jeans, he was left only in his boxers, the material of which did nothing to hide the prominent bulge in his lap.

You audibly gulped. 

It was one thing seeing him from the house down and another entirely to be within arm’s length. Less, even, as he neared you with a cloudy look of intensity.

“Still impatient?” He ran a hand along your upper thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

“Surprisingly, yes.”

Joel said nothing, but dipped a hand below the waistband of his boxers to fish out his fully-hard cock.

Tanned. Long. Thick. Heavy. Tip frustratedly flushed a dark shade, with a bead or two of shiny precum oozing out.

Yep, he was going to be a tight fit.

He lazily pumped himself once, twice, as he studied your reaction.

“Havin’ second thoughts?” Joel broke into a small, lascivious grin.

“Not at all.”

“Tha’s good,” He slurred in that rich, low Texan drawl, then tapped the side of your knee as he rose over you. “Open up now, sweetheart.”

You obliged almost instantly.

“Fuck, look at you,” Joel hummed contentedly as he slotted himself in between your spread legs. “So pretty for me, baby.”

Without waiting another second, he took his dick and pressed his leaking head against your entrance. It slid inside only by a few inches, the thickness of his warm, swollen tip already overwhelming you.

You let out a choked gasp, and your hands flew to grasp at his upper arms.

“Easy, sweetheart.” Joel huffed. He winced as he carefully dragged out then pushed back in to give you a few more inches, reaching the halfway point. Fuck, you were tight. “‘M almost there. Gotta take it like the good girl you are.”

All you could grant him in response was an open-mouthed nod, eyes blurring from the overwhelming feeling that was Joel Miller’s fat cock slowly driving into you.

A little bit out, a little more in.

A little bit out—a stutter of his hips and a whispered “fuck”—then, a little more in.

A lot more in.

When you felt the tip of his length find your cervix, you were already drunk on the feeling of being filled up by him, you hardly noticed the tears beginning to pool in your eyes.

“Aw, none of that, sweetheart.” Joel cooed, leaning closer to you to trail his lips down your neck, mumbling low words of affection in between kisses. “You’re alright, ain’tcha? My brave, brave girl.”

“It’s so much,” You squeaked, gripping him tightly.

“I know, baby, I know.” He sighed.

Joel’s hand found its way to yours, intertwining your fingers with his and bringing it to lay by your head.

Then, he slowly pulled his hips back, leaving you almost wholly devoid of his thickness, before driving back in, dragging against your tight walls.

“But you were the one who asked me t’come over, hm?” Joel said against your pulse point, then lifted his head to meet your gaze, his eyes darkened and glassy. “This is all on you, baby.”

And then he began rolling his hips into you at a steady pace, all while holding your stare, watching closely as your face contorted in pleasure.

“Fucking—god!” Your chest heaved with laboured breaths.

“‘S ‘Joel’, but close enough, darl’.”

You had enough defiance in you to think up a sarcastic comeback, but evidently not enough to voice such a quip—mostly because you were too busy having your breath stolen from you. 

Because, luckily for you, Joel decided that was the appropriate moment to begin picking up the pace of his thrusts.

Your mouth fell open slightly, and the nails of your free hand raked down his broad back as he slammed and slammed into your weeping mound.

“Fuck, baby.” He hissed through his teeth, squeezing your hand as he felt his skin burn from your freshly made scratch marks, but was otherwise unrelenting in his ruthless tempo. “Tryna mark me up or somethin’?”

“Sorry… ‘s just—shit! So much…” You bit the inside of your cheek.

Slam after slam of his cock came and went, causing your eyelids to flutter and airy gasps to leave your throat.

“So much? Oh, honey, you wanted this.” Joel tutted, face morphing into a false veil of sympathy. “Wanted this so bad, you fucked yourself in front of me, hm?”

Your cheeks burned at his blunt, albeit entirely true, statement.

Joel’s lips twisted into a small grin at your speechlessness. And, ever the chatterbox, continued:

“Dirty—”

Slam.

“Fuckin’—“

Slam.

“Girl.”

At this moment, you were incredibly relieved your house stood alone and was not conjoined to another, as anyone on the other side of your bedroom would have easily heard the insistent thudding of your headboard against your wall.

Thank god for detached houses.

And, more importantly, thank god for the man that was Joel fucking Miller.

“Imagined this for ages, y’know.” He said, from above you.

“I-Imagined what?” You breathed, despite knowing exactly what was coming next.

“Fucked my fist to this exact scenario for nights at a time. And I gotta say, baby, you definitely exceeded my expectations. You and this tight fuckin’ pussy of yours.”

Upon hearing his filthy words, you felt yourself clench around him.

“Oh, fuck. You like hearin’ that, huh?” Joel almost growled. “Shit… Come here, baby.”

And he kissed you in a feverish frenzy that held no sense of rhythm or restraint. Only urgency and deep-rooted, desperate desire; a graceless collision of lips and teeth and tongue and lust.

You only broke away, gasping into his mouth, when the force of his thrusts allowed his tip to kiss your cervix with every roll of his hips.

“Joel! Joel, I…”

“Yeah?” He panted, his brows drawn in effort.

“Need to—need to come.”

“Oh, really now?”

You were, at risk of sounding completely predictable, seeing stars at that moment. Every drag of his cock into you sent heat flooding into your core, nearly suffocating you in pleasure.

And, as if reading your mind, Joel brought his thumb to your clit and began to swipe graciously; every stroke bringing gasps from your hanging mouth.

Your back arched off your mattress as you felt yourself reach closer and closer until—

“Joel!” You all but screamed.

Your climax hit you like a freight train; hard and fast. 

Ripples of pleasure reverberated all over your trembling body, spawning little black dots that danced in your vision and creating a familiar warmth stemming from your lower gut that surrounded you like an embrace.

“That’s my girl,” Joel hummed approvingly, slowly slipping out of you with a strained grunt.

He then lowered his head to slot his mouth against yours, unhurriedly moving his lips as he swallowed your sighs.

“Don’t get too comfy, sweets. We ain’t finished just yet.” Joel mumbled.

“We’re not…?”

Oh.

It had only just occurred to you that, unlike yourself, he hadn’t come.

You looked down to where his cock was, only inches away from your slick cunt. Tip flushed a deep, frustrated shade, glistening with both your arousal and his precum, most likely the painful kind of hard.

Joel pressed a final kiss to your lips, slurring decisively, “you’re gonna ride me, baby.”

And his word was absolute.

Well, you certainly didn’t object as he manoeuvred you onto his lap—your legs bracketing his hips—as he sat against your headboard. His big, calloused, work-worn hands held your waist, urging you closer and letting you feel the base of his length against your mound.

You held your breath, steadying yourself on his wide shoulders as you slowly lifted your hips to hover above him.

Better late than never.

Joel watched you intently as you took him inside you, slowly sinking down and letting every thick inch of him fill you head-on.

“Fuck,” Joel almost growled, eyes going foggy.

You gripped his shoulders tighter, biting your lower lip as you continued to lower yourself, inch by tortuous inch, until you finally took him in his generous entirety, the salt-and-pepper curls at the base of his cock tickling your inner thighs.

If you thought he felt big before, this angle taught you that ‘big’ had not even been properly established until that exact moment.

Fuck, you could practically feel him in your guts.

“Move,” He gritted his teeth, and his dark eyes flickered to meet yours. The authority in his tone was ultimately eclipsed by the way his gaze was overcome with raw desperation. Joel grunted again with urgency, “Christ alive, baby, move.”

And so you did.

You started with small rolls of your hips, lifting only by a small margin upwards, before spearing yourself back down in a relaxed tempo.

Up… down, up … down, up … down.

 Joel’s voice very quickly broke you from your bout of concentration.

“You can do better than that,” He tutted, gently patting your hip in reassurance. “Ride me like your fuckin’ dildo, baby. C’mon, I know you got it in you. Saw it myself across the street.”

Fuck, as if you needed a reminder.

His words caused you to instinctively clench around him, your pussy squeezing his aching cock like a vice.

“Shit,” He hissed. “Told you to ride, now, didn’t I?”

Dutifully, you took it upon yourself to obey his command and fuck yourself on him at a faster pace.

Up, down, up, down, up, down.

Low, wrecked moans and obscenely wet sounds pierced the quiet of your room as you maintained your speed.

In fact, you were suddenly very grateful you were left home alone because it was very possible that anyone within a five-mile radius of your house could hear how well you were taking Joel’s dick.

“Yeah, thassit, sweet thing.” Joel hummed, his hands taking over and bouncing you on his cock himself. 

And you very eagerly let his big palms hold your waist, bringing you up and down with greedy persistence, whilst simultaneously fucking up into you, carving into your channel with deliberately rough drags of his length.

Joel took what he wanted, and what he wanted was as much as physically possible.

Up-down-up-down-up-down—

Then, his pace faltered, his hands hesitated, and his dick twitched inside your velvety walls.

“‘M almost there, sweets,” Joel grunted, shortly resuming his brutal pace.

You whimpered, gripping his shoulders tighter.

“Meantime, you’re gonna give me one more.” Joel smiled at you through his half-lidded eyes and brought his hand to rub at your sensitive bundle of nerves, stroking sloppy semi-circular motions until you cried out:

“C-Can’t! I can’t, Joel,” You whined.

“Oh, yes, you can, baby.” Joel hummed, your protest only fueling the unforgiving pace of both his fingers and his cock.

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe; overwhelmed with Joel and Joel alone. He was everywhere, in your ear, whispering filthy words of praise, below you as you straddled his lap, around you as he held you in place.

And, most unforgettably, he was inside you, ramming into your cervix like he wanted to rearrange your guts.

Updownupdownupdownupdown—

“C’mon, sweets. Give me another. Give me another, baby, you can do it. My good girl can do it, hm? Make this old man real proud,”

Blood pounded in your ears, your heart thudded rapidly against your chest, and warmth blossomed in your core.

So close. You were so close.

It only took a few more swipes against your clit until, finally, “Fuck—Joel!”

Fireworks exploded in your lower stomach as your second orgasm of the night took hold of you. It captured you suddenly, almost violently, causing your body to tremble and arch perfectly toward Joel as pitchy whines bubbled up from your throat.

Joel continued to fuck up into you and use the purchase he had on your hips to resume the animalistic pace he had originally initiated.

Not long after, “so pretty for me. Bet you’ll be even prettier with my come drippin’ out of ya, huh?”

The sweetness of his rich voice almost disguised the intent of his words.

It took a moment for you to register what he had said.

“Your—your what?” You breathed.

Joel’s lips found their way from your jaw down to your pulse point as he nipped and mouthed at your neck. You felt him smile against your skin at your reaction.

“Gonna fill you up, baby.” He mumbled in between kissing a line down your throat. “Gonna fuck my spend into this needy little pussy, hm?”

“Joel. Joel, I’m not-”

Not on birth control, you endeavoured to make known to the man fucking you raw.

But he shushed you, and you consequently shut up. 

Well, your sudden silence could also have been accredited to the endurance of his thrusts, still driving up into you at a frenzied pace.

“‘S okay, baby, I’ll drop by the store tomorrow. You just sit there and let me have this, okay?” Joel pulled away to find your gaze.

Almost instantly, you found yourself lost in the depths of his deep, dark stare. Those damn soft eyes of his—they held you captive, pulling you in with an effortless gravity.

“Okay.” You whispered.

“That’s a girl,” Joel hummed “Fuck, I’m almost there. Need this so… shit, so fuckin’ bad.”

It was safe to say that, after nearly a year of secretly fucking his fist to the thought of you in his dingy little shower, this affair was long overdue.

“C’mon, baby. Let me hear you. Let me hear what you sound like when I fill you up.”

If you thought you were going to faint before, you certainly believed you would soon, what with the ruthless pace he was setting as he chased his own release.

Updownupdownupdownupdown—

“JOEL!” 

His hands held you down on him—his hips pressed flush against you—as a choked groan ripped from his throat. Hot ropes of his come spilled deep into you, painting your walls white and pumping you full of his seed.

While he had ceased moving you on and off his cock like a fucking sextoy, Joel still subjected your aching cunt to lazy rolls of his hips as his orgasm died down.

Glancing down, you were greeted by the sight of pale, silky strings of his come leaking out from where you two were still connected, staining both your inner thighs and the hair at the base of his length.

But it wasn’t over yet.

Without a word, Joel cradled you to him, and you felt another pulse of his come shoot up inside you.

“Joel,” You gasped, melting against his barrel chest.

“Shh, baby. Got more for you.” His scruff rubbed against your head as he kissed your crown. “Take it, just—yeahhhh, that’s a girl.”

Another spurt.

And, one final warm gush of his come, hips stuttering as it overtook him.

Joel let out a deep, satisfied exhale.

“There,” He hummed, bringing your face upwards to look at him. “All done, hm?”

You nodded dreamily, your teary eyes falling to his lips.

Joel smiled lopsidedly and slanted his mouth against yours, pulling you into a languid, sloppy kiss.

As utterly fucked out as you were, you were unable to express just how well he had dicked you down—which, for the record, was very well—so you resorted to showing your gratitude against his lips.

Your tongue gratefully flicked and tangled inside his mouth, your lips just as appreciative, as also indicated by the low hums of pleasure Joel very eagerly swallowed.

“Remind me to fuck myself in front of you more often.” You mumbled, just barely pulling away from the kiss.

“Gladly, sweetheart.”

Joel’s eyes turned half-lidded as he once again leaned forward with the intent of stealing another kiss from your divine lips, when his attention was caught by the faint glow of headlights creeping through your blinds.

He was one second away from pointing out the fact that a car had just pulled up in your driveway but was so very rudely interrupted by the distant sound of your front door slamming shut.

Looks like your parents were home early.

You stared wide-eyed at Joel. “Shit,”

He mirrored your expression, agreeing gravely, “shit.”

[pianta]

angel with bad thoughts 🩵💧

hii guys! ★彡 the kind folks from XPPen sent me their new Magic Drawing Pad to try out !! here are my thoughts ♡︎

🏞 i love to sit in the park and draw, so i've been taking the Magic Drawing Pad with me when i go out. this tablet is light and portable, ideal for on-the-go use and traveling, whether it's for a quick sketch or professional use. it's so easy to pick this up and start doodling when inspiration hits now. no need to connect to a PC! ✨

🖼 the Magic Drawing Pad feels like it was designed with artists in mind and I love that. tbh i'm an Android girlie and i have been looking for good alternatives for an artist-focused, standalone drawing tablet for years now. I'm so excited to finally see there are more options on the market!

��️ set up was a breeze, so easy right out of the box. it even came preinstalled with Medibang and IbisPaint -- i hadn't used those programs before so it was fun to try ! but you can also install CSP or any other apps on it if you prefer~

🖥 the screen has an anti-glare & paper-like surface, so it feels natural to draw on, like it's a sketchbook. plus it's easy on the eyes, even if you're out in the sun. it comes with a glove, pen nibs + a protective case where you can store your pen, so you won't lose it! phew lol

✏️ the 16k pressure levels in the X3 Pro Pencil make for a smooth and precise drawing experience. it doesn't need to be charged, so you don't have to worry about losing power while drawing, making this the ultimate portable tablet experience for me

tl;dr: the XPPen Magic Drawing Pad is an amazing lightweight standalone portable tablet designed with artists in mind, great for on-the-go use! def recommend it if you're an artist looking for a more versatile and portable experience, or alternatives to the ones that are currently on the market

i'm so happy to see more options out there so more people can jump in and start drawing digitally! 💞 if you are interested, you can find more info here: US Store // CA Store ✨

[egophiliac]

Tl;Dr - I stopped playing the game but I like the characters and I wanna draw them but idk if the wiki I use is up to date for cards

Do u know any wikis that have up to date cards for all the twst characters-

Asking specifically bc of Malleus cause I can't tell anymore if he has any more new cards bc HE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A 100 DISNEY ANIVERSARY CARD IN THE WIKI I USE 😭

Like compared to everyone else in Disanomia, he has 12 cards (in the wiki I use) and then Lilia has 17 cards 💀

Cause I think Malleus has a Bean's Day card as well, but that could just be a fanmade one, I don't have JP twst nor ENG twst anymore so I can't confirm it myself urhghrhevw 🫠

Malleus doesn't have a Beans Day card, so that would've been fanmade! and the 100 anniversary cards are actually the new round of birthday cards, so most of the characters don't have 'em yet -- Malleus should be getting his in a couple of days, when his birthday event starts! oh god my keeeeeys

I think the wiki.gg stays pretty up to date? it looks to me like they have everything that's currently up through JP, at least. :O I did go through and do a quick count just because I couldn't believe Malleus only had 12 cards, but. he really does have the least...defeated only by Silver with 13...astonishing. we need his gargoyle club wear immediately.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Holidays w/ boyfriend Zayne

Random posts on the TL w/ boyfriend Zayne during the holiday season. Dr. Noah makes a quick appearance :)

_thedrzayne

♥️ liked by misshuntermc, gray.sun, yvannamama and 55k others

_thedrzayne: The weather outside is frightful, but the treats are so delightful

tagged: misshuntermc

comments

yvannamama: @/misshuntermc did you come up with this caption? 🤔

↳ misshuntermc: He actually came up with this by himself ↳ _thedrzayne: Yes I did 😌

_thedrnoah: Please Zayne limit your sweets intake this year

↳ _thedrzayne: My girlfriend told me I can indulge this month ↳ misshuntermc: can you please not get me beat up? 😅

gray.sun: Let me get one

↳ misshuntermc: You should know he devoured these right after the photo ↳ _thedrzayne: They were gone before I uploaded this ↳ yvannamama: Okay big hungry did you taste them?

misshuntermc

♥️ liked by thedrzayne, yvannamama, talkthat_tara and 78k others

misshuntermc: Step 1: take your man to target with you Step 2: buy him a parfait to keep him happy

tagged: _thedrzayne

comments

_thedrzayne: You know all my weaknesses

↳ misshuntermc: im sure everyone knows how weak you are for sweets

gray.sun: please tell me you’re gonna decorate his office 👀

↳ misshuntermc: You already know 😜 ↳ yvannamama: I want to help !

_thedrzayne: Not my office

↳ misshuntermc: definitely your offfice ↳ gray.sun: Boss has spoken sorry Zayne

liiisa_: Take me with you next time 🥺

↳ talkathat_tara: im sayin ! why is she acting like we don’t love a good target run? 🤨 ↳ simonesays: damn you two are needy as hell (I’m actually hugging my pillow with tears in my eyes does she hate us?) ↳ misshuntermc: Drama Queens fr 🙄

misshuntermc

♥️ liked by _thedrzayne, _thedrnoah, gray.sun and 92k others

misshuntermc: Chocolate Croissant 🤝Toasted Marshmallows

tagged: _thedrzayne

comments

_thedrzayne: I will happily go into a sugar coma with you

↳ misshuntermc: Im going to stuff you with real food later 😁😁 ↳ _thedrzayne: I knew there was a catch 😒 ↳ misshuntermc: should’ve read the terms and conditions 😚

gray.sun: I know the dentist HATES to see Zayne coming

↳ _thedrzayne: No these chocolate croissants hate to see me coming ↳ yvannamama: @/misshuntermc take his phone please ↳ misshuntermc: He just said it out loud and I think my spine just curled in on itself HELP 😖

misshuntermc

♥️ liked by yvannamama, simonesays, talkthat_tara and 97k others

misshuntermc: Black diamond for him ; Bunny slopes for me

tagged: _thedrzayne

comments

_thedrzayne: I’ll stay by your side and hold your hands on the bunny slopes

↳ misshuntermc: thank you for taking pity on me ↳ _thedrzayne: you have to start somewhere

liiisa_: No LV goggles this trip?

↳ misshuntermc: No I left them at home so I had to use the Oakleys luckily I had four pairs in the car

talkthat_tara: I hAd tO uSe tHe oAkLeYs talking like those are $20 goggles or something

↳ simonesays: how much are they? ↳ liiisa_: at least $225 ↳ simonesays: these can’t be the same checks….. ↳_thedrzayne: She used my card

[chronicdelusionistsart]

Bernard Dowd and the Art of Recontextualization

I'm what you might call a "fake Batman fan" - that is, I've only watched most of the Batman animated series', all of the live action movies, most of the animated ones, played some of the video games... so, you know, probably thousands of hours of my life in Batman related media. But not the comics! Fake fan!

Frankly, I find the comics medium the way DC and Marvel do it to be really hard to follow. There's the fact that you can't really follow an individual solo character without them getting caught up in massive crossover events that ruin their arc and pacing, there's the soap-opera-iness that encourages cheap and revolving conflicts inherent to the longform monthly release schedule, the writer roulette, and there's also just that going back to try and thread a particular continuity or character is an exercise in frustration. Oh and the retcons. Everyone hates those. They've (basically) never been good. Don't remember this part it will never come up aga

But, you know, despite this - or maybe because of this - comics is a breeding ground for ideas. Because of the quick turnaround and the demand for novel conflicts, comics just churn out idea after idea. Good ideas, bad ideas, doesn't matter. Get it to print. Retcon it later if we write ourselves into a corner. Comics are often soooooo first draft coded. This is why I personally prefer adaptations - they often reimagine ideas and retcon them into new narratives where they can serve a more coherent plot. But what happens when a character is picked up for a second draft ... without actually contradicting the earlier material? While enriching the earlier material, even?

(SPOILERS for Tim Drake: Robin and uh... 20 year old comics under the cut!)

So, uh, quick disclaimer - because I have very little overall knowledge of DC's Comics continuity, there may be more interesting examples of times that what I'm going to point out was done. But I love Bernard and from a writer's POV I'm impressed with the way they did it so we're talking about Bernard lmao

The Beginning (Robin 1993) - Reading comics from the 2000s hurts in a way I can't describe

Okay so I heard Tim Drake is dating a guy now? (Penny Sonic voice) Whoa he's bisexual I didn't know that! I'm sure people on the internet are being very normal about this. Cool let's find out more about his new bf. I like starting from the beginning... so like yeah hold on while I crack open the Robin comic and take down what this guy's deal is.

😬

So basically the TL;DR of Bernard in his original appearances is that he seems to be an attempt to introduce some normal stakes teen drama into Tim's life. He has all the Funny Guy Friend Classics - he's got an inflated sense of his proficiency at pulling girls, he's inexplicably drawn towards the protagonist (who is cooler than him), he wants to date the most popular girl in school, and he wants to get down with older women!

This might just be me but while I was going through this I thought like, he almost reads a little uncanny, like he's been filtered through a Disney Teen Special. In practice he mostly serves to introduce Tim to the Real Plot, Darla Aquista, and be one of his ties to civilian life, which is, like, fine. He's ultimately just a background character and he's so unimportant that he only has one appearance after their school gets shot up(!!!), which is, again, to be more of an accessory to the Darla plot.

After this display of "wow this guy's kind of lowkey insane for offering to his resurrected bestie supervillainess to be her manager actually", he's dropped forever. Comics! We're not gonna unpack that.

The Sequel (Batman: Urban Legends) - We're Gonna Unpack That

Until almost two decades later when he calls Tim up for a date. And while I'm trying to skim over a lot to get to the point here and I don't really know the FULL context, it is notable that Tim is in the middle of an identity crisis / the cusp of adulthood when this happens (I think he just lost a spleen or something. That sucks dude). It's pretty implicit that part of the reason he's going to see Bernard is because he's someone familiar in a time when he's facing a lot of new and scary stuff.

And at first blush, he really does seem like the same dude. The familiar arm over the shoulder, the banter, it's all very casual and similar to the ribbing from high school -

- and I guess nothing has happened to Bernard in the interim haha he's just the funny friend guy right?

I really like the way they did this. I'm just unambiguously going to praise how good this is if you just came off the 2000s stuff. Comics have kind of breakneck pacing by nature but they really manage to condense down and then pull off a neat sleight of hand over the course of like four pages here. They re-establish Bernard as a silly guy and then wham you with the fact that yeah actually we ARE gonna unpack that. Fuck you Tim Drake life is ever changing and nothing stays the same

So the TL;DR on the rest of the Urban Legends storyline is that stuff like, HAPPENED to this guy while our focus was elsewhere. He learned martial arts, presumably so that he wouldn't be so helpless in the next school shooting level event, he got into a pain cult, he's just Not Doing Well. We find out, reading between the lines, that calling Tim on a date was probably one of his last attempts to reach out to someone when the cult stuff was getting really bad.

I've heard people complain that Bernard is uninteresting or not a character or entirely focused on his relationship with Tim, and I think that criticism is really weird considering that his entire re-debut focuses on the point that he's been having his own life and making his own (often wild) decisions - ones that really changed the course of his life - while Tim was gone. And it's also notable that this story is about how the fact that he's his own person and has changed and has made the nerve-wracking decision to take action and call Tim inspires Tim himself to take a leap and fling himself into the uncertain waters of young adulthood.

Me when I have my bi awakening and call to get out of a rut simultaneously because Cute Insane Guy Inspired Me. iconic

So that's how Bernard has changed. But that's not recontextualization, that's just the writers taking a guy and making him do another, cooler thing. Well hold the fuck on because we're not goddamn done.

What did he mean by th-

The Recontextualizerrrrr (Tim Drake: Robin) - Bernard is the funniest person in Gotham City. I'll not be taking constructive criticism on this

Tim Drake: Robin is the followup to the Urban Legends story and Tim is the main character fr. Obviously. but Bernard is also a major character. Later, he even gets to be a POV character. But they don't do that for several issues, instead treating us to his shenanigans from Tim's point of view as he solves a bizarre serial murder case and like, they're cute! And neither of them are normal in the slightest. I love that for them.

Again, TL;DR, there are a lot of interactions where Bernard talks to Tim both in and out of costume, but we don't get to see his POV until they go out to a restaurant and meet Bernard's parents there by accident and Tim has to run off to do Robin stuff. And like... a lot of stuff happens in this one bois. Whammy after whammy

We're suddenly introduced explicitly to a lot that was only implied or just completely unavailable before. Bernard's parents are ragingly homophobic. Probably were never great even before that. He suffers from depression. All that is a lot to. wait. hold on a second

he knows?????

HE KNOWS????

Okay so if you stop at this point and reread the entire run so far you find out that Bernard is in fact the biggest troll in the entire universe. This is the moment that cemented him as my favourite, by the way. Like I had a feeling that he knew and I was just laughing my ass off when my suspicions were confirmed.

But this is really interesting on top of that because Bernard has been revealed to be, at this point, a guy who you should look deeper than the surface to understand. Someone who masks his true self and whose true motivations you can only uncover if you're really looking past the facade. Even with Tim, he sort of offers Tim and Robin half the story each, taking advantage of Robin's "distance" to give out information he wants Tim to think about but that he's reluctant to talk about frankly while at the same time almost daring Tim to open up about his identity.

Absolutely most normal way to tell your bf about your cult trauma. You'll always be famous to me Bernard Dowd

This is a really neat trick by the writers. It makes Bernard a multifaceted character who got to quietly develop while we were mostly focused on Tim, and there's some clever clever foreshadowing they set up in this run to achieve this. If it were just this, I would call it good writing.

But it actually goes one level deeper than that and becomes something really really special. because as we all know, Bernard was not conceived to be this way, he was a one-off guy who was kind of annoying and he was essentially retconned to be, like. Gay? Have depth? Be funny? All of those things?

The Seamless Retcon (Robin 1993 Again) - We took your guy and we gave him gay subtext and it worked astoundingly well

This is not a new observation btw, I've seen a ton of posts to this effect. But oh my god. Some of these panels really hit different with the new Bernard lore. Like holy fuck just read this back to back

There are tons of moments like this. There's SO MUCH that the revelation that Bernard is queer adds to his initially extremely underwhelming tenure in the Robin comics. A reread almost begs the question of what Bernard must have been thinking at any given moment! BRO YOU SAID YOU WANTED TO FUCK HIS STEPMOM. That's completely believable as a next-level closeting move and goes from kind of annoying to turbofunny.

Like yeah of course he's acting like a douche. His father is a status-chasing asshole and he's five racks deep in the closet. Of course he gravitates towards Tim - his gaydar is pinging and he thinks Tim is cute. And it's also pinging that Tim is like. You know

None of this would hit as hard if the writers had not set up Bernard as someone who masks so much. They worked it in that character trait to mean that you could always glean information deeper than the surface from his top level interactions.

Because of this, Bernard is really fucking interesting and he's a good character and he's one that gets better on reread. Like I said, that's a set of observations that are not new to me. But something that really gets to me is how seamless and intentional it is. It really feels like the writer sat down and took their time devising a guy that is believable as that other guy, but only if you read back with certain context.

The conclusion - Comics. Man.

So is this just about how Bernard is really fucking interesting and he's a good character and he's one that gets better on reread and that he can exist independent of Tim and all the haters are wrong. Yeah of course. 💖

But also like, I have thoroughly proven to myself that I was kinda wrong to just reject the published comics medium out of hand. I see now that there's room for the writer's roulette to hit the jackpot and that something I mistook as an outright flaw, the winding and unfocused and often improvised nature of it, can be ridden like a wave if you're skilled enough to do it. Meghan Fitzmarten is a goddamned genius.

I guess I have to read comics now. Fuck

[growth-opportunities]

A book review of "Meditate your way to bigger breasts."

RATING: ⭐⭐⭐⭐

WARNING: THIS REALLY WORKS!

I'll admit, I bought this book as a skeptic. I've never found much use to meditation but I wanted bigger breasts and I thought, what the hell, there are worse reasons to take up meditation.

I skimmed through the first few chapters and thought I got the gist of it and started meditating, twenty minutes a day every other day. I told myself I would keep going for four weeks and, if I didn't see any progress, I could chuck the book in the fireplace and be done with it. In some ways, the meditation worked like traditional meditation because it made me very aware of just how unaware I am of myself. I was ready to give up entirely, thinking I had completely failed to grow at all, until almost halfway through the fourth week when my bra couldn't close. I had somehow remained completely oblivious to my own growth, unable to see it happening literally under my nose. I was so excited! I had gone up two cup sizes in less than a month! That was all I really wanted anyway, just a little boost up top to give me some decent cleavage, so I counted that as a rousing success.

No, you might be thinking, if it worked so well, why didn't I give it five stars? And why is it a "warning" that the technique works?

Well, after it worked so well, I showed the book to my girlfriend. She was also very pleased with the results and made her pleasure known. That was a fun night. Over the next couple of weeks, I let the thoughts about the book pass without giving them much weight and went about my life, happy with my new size. But my new size didn't stay my new size. Another week went by, no meditation, but I saw another cup size. Another week brought two more. As fun as it was, I was starting to get worried. What if it wasn't the meditation, but I was having some kind of bizarre medical episode. My girlfriend was quick to calm me, usually with her lips around my nipple, but it was still a bit concerning, especially when I outgrew the largest bra I could find at three different stores. Even paying for rush delivering on a custom bra would have it getting to me too late, outgrowing it by the time it arrived.

It was only when I insisted that my girlfriend take me to a doctor that she came clean. I figured she had thrown the book out, but she had kept it. Studied it. Figured out that she could give me the mantras while I was asleep. I wasn't too happy about nearly quadrupling my "perfect" size, now big enough to nearly cover my bellybutton, but at least I wasn't in danger. But I was going to have to get her back.

Honestly, being such a buxom couple isn't a terrible thing! We get some stares as we bounce walk down the street, but our sex life is a very, very jiggly now! She's twice as big as I am!

TL;DR - The book works great, but be careful with it! It's easy to get greedy.