#spike the lil punk it’s ok

[ms-scarletwings]

[redstarwriting]

the clash | vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 2.2k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you (sort of), you hating hobie, angry hobie,��death, there’s a murder, SORT OF GRAPHIC death scene, injuries, ANGST, a plot twist!, sort of allusions to s*icide

a/n: ok y’all. this one’s a lil shorter, but this is where it starts getting whacky. the way i’m writing this is sort of like if i was writing a comic book, so this is a WHOLE ASS PLOTLINE that i could see being illustrated in my brain. i hope you enjoy, bc it’s about to get WILD. don’t worry tho the fluff will come bc i’m soft(ish)

previous chapter: v. ever fallen in love

now reading: vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)

next chapter: vii. i wanna be sedated

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First thing’s first, Hobie needs to find out where the Prowler of your world might be. He could always call Miles and ask him where his Uncle Aaron lived, but that seems a little… insensitive. If there’s anything he knows about the Prowler, he knows that he’s a thief. So, Hobie snatches your police dispatcher and listens for some burglaries being reported. Getting any type of assistance from the police pains him to his very core, but he’s not about to wake you up and let you know what he’s about to do. He crouches on the railing of your balcony and stares out at your city. He hears calls about someone robbing a Bloodega, not the Prowler. Some kids snuck into a club, also not what he needs. “Come on, pigs,” he mumbles, “give me somethin’ useful here.”

That’s when his ears perk up.

“Reports of someone lurking around of Oscorp Labs, suspicions that it might be the Prowler. Units on standby for Spider-Goth, do not engage with the Prowler.”

Do not engage? What the hell? Isn’t he a villain? Hobie quickly understands what’s going on.

He works with the cops.

Fuck this assshole.

He leaps off your balcony, webbing his way through your city. It may not be his style, necessarily, but it’s a nice place. He can see why you like it so much. He’s actually been webbing through it more than he ever expected to with how much he visits you. He knows deep down that he’s visiting so much only to see you, but outwardly he likes to pretend it’s just to see Shadow. He knows more about your world than Miles, Pav, or Gwen’s which is interesting considering he’s known you only about 3 and a half months. Luckily, you live only a short web swing away from Oscorp, so he can’t get too lost in his thoughts about you and can end this guy faster. He lands on the top of the building and glances around. He notices a perfectly cut hole in the glass a few floors down, so he crawls down and through into the building. It’s dark. He tries to stay as quiet as he possibly can because he knows that’s how you would do it, but damn. He just isn’t good at stealth. And this is factual apparently, because he gets the feeling someone is watching him and just barely jumps out of the way from what looks like a whip covered in spikes. He lands on the ground in a crouched position when he hears a somewhat familiar sounding voice. “Who the hell are you?”

“Can ask you the same question, mate,” Hobie says, “The answer will make this whole thing so much easier.”

“You one of that freak’s friends?”

“Something like that,” Hobie responds. “I take it you’re the Prowler?”

“The one and only,” he says, and Hobie rolls his eyes under his mask. “Mate, do I have some news for you,” he snorts, and the Prowler flicks his wrist. His whip makes some mechanical noise and green and purple light starts shining through it in little places where the metal isn’t completely welded together. Hobie motions to it. “Bet you’re proud a’ that. What are you? A cybergoth? cyborgoth?”

“I’ll ask this one more time. Who are you?”

“Name’s Spider-Man, also known as Spider-Punk,” Hobie says, and the Prowler groans. “There’s another one? You’ve got to be kidding.”

“There’s a lot more than just me and them, mate,” Hobie crouches down, ready to leap out of the way if need be. “Why are you here? Where’s my insect at?”

Hobie doesn’t like the way he called you his. “They’re not yours,” he hisses at him. The Prowler is quiet for a moment before laughing. “Oh. I see. Didn’t know they had a boyfriend,” he says, before whipping towards Hobie. He jumps out of the way in time, but almost doesn’t because boyfriend? Excuse me? “Not their boyfriend!” he yells, landing on the ceiling and glaring down at the Prowler. “No? Then why are you here? I figured it was because of how badly I beat them. Their screams were so entertaining.” Hobie hates this man. He clenches his jaw. “Nowhere near as entertainin’ as yours’ll be, dickhead,” he grunts, jumping down and shooting a web at the Prowlers legs. Luckily, the Prowler wasn’t expecting that, and Hobie is able to yank his legs out from underneath him. He falls hard, and Hobie smirks. “Oh sorry, did that hurt?” Hobie says, and the Prowler growls, standing up faster than Hobie anticipated. “I’ll kill you.”

“Not if I kill you first, mate,” Hobie says, anger seeping out of his words. “A spider that willingly kills, huh? Is that why you came to find me?” he chuckles, “I feel like you and I could be good friends,” the Prowler’s chuckle turns into a laugh, and it pisses Hobie off even more. “I’d rather die than be friends with someone like you,” Hobie shoots another web at him, but this time the prowler dodges it. He flicks his wrist, and Hobie feels the whip make contact with his side. He grunts in pain. This must be what got you earlier today. “That can be arranged. You’re even worse than your little partner,” the Prowler says, and Hobie can hear the smirk. He wants to punch that fucking smirk off his stupid face. Hobie stands again, grabbing his guitar. If it’s a fight to the death this fucker wants, it’s a fight he’ll get. And Hobie will not be dying tonight. “Oh, what are you gonna do? Power chord me out of existence?”

“More like beat your ass until you kick it,” Hobie growls, “but if ya want me to do it with style, I’ll play ya a song over your dead body.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll be the one dying tonight,” the Prowler says and uses his whip again. Hobie jumps out of the way, and his eyes widen as he dodges two bullets in midair. He lands on the ground and sees that the Prowler’s gauntlets are guns as well. He scoffs. “How much that suit cost ya?”

“Would have cost a lot if I didn’t steal it or invent it myself, but I did,” Hobie dodges two more bullets, but lands directly on the Prowlers whip, causing him to slip and fall. “Luckily my agreement with the police got me the state-of-the-art tech that I needed,” the Prowler confesses. “Fuck,” Hobie grunts, jumping up as quickly as he can. “I’m gonna love telling Spider-Goth I took down their boyfriend.”

“Not their boyfriend!” Hobie yells, jumping out of the way of his whip, and more bullets.

“I find that very hard to believe.”

“Look, how ‘bout we settle this without any gadgets, eh? See who wins then?” Hobie says, and the Prowler scoffs. “If you can’t beat me at my best, you can’t beat me at my worst.”

“Actually, yeah I can. Dunno if you’re realizin’, but I’m still alive and breathin’,” Hobie says, jumping out of the way of his whip yet again. This time, though, Hobie was prepared. He webs the whip and yanks it as hard as he can. The Prowler is airborne as Hobie swings him to the other side of the room. He lands with a thud, and Hobie webs over to him, doing a flip to land a kick directly to the face. The Prowler manages to get his whip wrapped around Hobie’s ankle and flings him back across the room. He crashes into some glass wall and groans. “As much as I fuck with your ‘fuck the establishment attitude,’ Spider-Goth ain’t gonna be too happy with me if I destroy another buildin’,” Hobie says, shaking his head, hearing some glass fall down next to him. Then, the alarms start blaring. ‘Great, probably broke somethin’ important,’ he thinks before noticing a piece of glass stuck in his arm. ‘Gotta make this quick,’ he thinks, grunting as he pulls the glass out of his arm. “Like I give a fuck what makes them mad,” the Prowler says, running towards Hobie. He leaps out of the way, webbing his leg again and causing him to slip and fall. Hobie then delivers a blow to the side of his face with his guitar, but thanks to his armor, it just hurts him more than anything.

Then Hobie hears hissing. He leaps up onto the ceiling just before a mechanical snake was about to sink its stupid metal fangs into him. “Made yourself friends ‘cause ya ain’t got any? I’d be gutted for you if ya weren’t such a dick,” Hobie says, webbing the snake and jumping off of the ceiling. He does a flip in midair, swinging the snake with him and throwing it at the Prowler. He dodges just in time, but Hobie is able to deliver another blow to him. This time, Hobie goes for his leg. And he hears a crack. Just as he wanted. The Prowler shrieks out in pain. 

Hobie lands next to him and bends down. “Hope that hurt, fucker,” he spits, striking his other leg in the same fashion. He dodges the mechanical snake again, grabbing it and using his strength to break it in one squeeze. He throws it to the side and dodges more bullets from the Prowler’s gauntlets. Unsurprisingly, Hobie goes for both arms next. He stops when the man is rendered completely useless, rolling the Prowler over on his back. “I win,” Hobie says, and even he is taken aback at how menacing his voice sounds. The Prowler grunts, “You sure you’re a good guy?” Hobie ignores him and stands beside his head. “I do what I want. Any last words?”

The Prowler is silent for a moment before speaking. “Tell them that their boyfriend would have been able to save–”

Hobie doesn’t let him finish.

In fact, Hobie has trouble stopping even after he knows the deed is done. He didn’t even give Osborn this kind of disrespect. But this guy is different. All Hobie has to do is think about the state of your back, how you still blame yourself for what this motherfucker did to someone you cared so much about, and he’s swinging his guitar again.

He only stops when there’s nothing left to hit.

He breathes heavily, observing what he’s done in the flashing red lights as the alarm blares in the background. He walks back to the window, glancing back at what he’s done before leaping out and webbing away as fast as possible. He hopes no one saw him. Doesn’t want anyone confusing you for him.

He lands on your balcony and sees Shadow waiting for him inside the doors. He opens them and hears the cat meow at him. He leans down, giving him a few scratches, before opening a portal to his world. He goes home, falling on his bed. He groans, feeling the injuries he got for the first time. The adrenaline was keeping him going that entire fight. He gets up, and begins mending his injuries. Halfway through the last set of stitches he has to give himself, he gets a call on his watch from Miguel. He rolls his eyes, ready to get yelled at for, ‘interfering with the fate of the multiverse, yaddah yaddah yaddah blah blah blah boring boring boring.’

“Yeah, what d’ya want?” he answers, finishing up his stitches. “Get to Spider Society immediately.”

“I’m a little busy here, mate can it–”

“NO! It can’t wait, Hobie! Get here now!” Miguel screams, hanging up. Hobie groans. He was supposed to go back to your world so when you wake up, he would be there and explain why he did what he did. He could just go back… but then Miguel might show up in your world. And he sure as hell doesn’t want that. Sighing, he opens a portal to earth-2099, walking through and ending up in Miguel’s multi-screened research room. “Do you know what you did.”

“Killed a bloody villain, what of it?” Hobie asks, already annoyed. Miguel pounds his fist on the desk. “You interfered with (Y/n)’s timeline, Hobart!”

“I was protecting them!”

“YOU CREATED AN ANOMALY!” Miguel screams, and Hobie frowns. “How did I–”

“You killed a villain not a part of your own world, a villain who played a role in a major canon event of (Y/n)’s and now–”

“Would you come off it with the fuckin’ canon events?! Whatever it is will be resolved in one way or another!”

“Hobie you don’t understand–”

“He hurt them! Was I just supposed to stand around and let it happen?!”

“YES! We’re Spider-People it’s part of the job,” Miguel screams, and Hobie rolls his eyes. “I thought you hated them anyways, why did you want to protect them so bad?!” Miguel asks, and Hobie freezes. That… is actually a good question. He sees your injuries in his mind again and his frown deepens. Why did he want to protect you? Surely, he doesn’t… like you? No, he wouldn’t have done what he just did for a just a friend, though he would have still hunted the Prowler down. But the thought of him hurting you drove him to do unspeakable things… which he did. Is it… does he like you romantically?

His eyes widen. It would make sense if he felt that way. He was around you 24/7. These past two days were torture. He likes the way you challenge him. He likes the way you look, he likes the way you speak, he likes– “Hobie. Answer me.” His thoughts get cut off by Miguel, and he swallows hard. “I… I actually can’t answer that right now,” he says, and Miguel frustratedly runs his hand through his hair. “Hobie. What you just did…”

“Is bad, I know–”

“It’s not just bad. It’s detrimental.”

“What do you–”

“Do you know who you killed?” Miguel asks, and Hobie scoffs. “Obviously. I killed the Prowler, probably some variant of Aaron Davis or–”

“The Prowler on Earth-666 is not Aaron Davis,” Miguel says, frowning at him. “Did I kill Miles? You know his voice did sound kind of familiar…” Hobie asks, feeling a little worse about the way he handled the situation. “No. It wasn’t Miles, either.” Hobie looks up at Miguel, who takes a deep breath. “The Prowler on Earth-666 was Hobart Brown.”

Hobie feels like he just got hit with a pound of bricks. This is too much for him to process in one night. “I… what?”

“You just killed yourself.” Hobie shakes his head. “I–”

“He sounded familiar because he was you. Just without the English accent,” Miguel says. “Did (Y/n) know?” he asks, less concerned with the fact that he technically killed himself, and more concerned with the fact that he did all of those things to you. Miguel shakes his head no. “They didn’t. They were never supposed to know,” Miguel affirms, and Hobie lets out a shaky breath. He unclenches the fists he didn’t realize he formed. He feels the indents his nails made on his palms, but he doesn’t care. He was genuinely scared for a minute there. How would you react towards him if you know he was the one torturing you for so long? He nods. “Good.”

“There’s something else I need to tell you, Hobie,” Miguel says, and Hobie looks at him. “You changed a canon event. So far, the world seems stable… but you’re not going to like what will happen next,” Miguel says, turning away from him. Hobie jumps up to the platform Miguel is standing on. “Will (Y/n) be okay?” he sounds a little too frantic, and Miguel glances over at him. “You care too much for them.”

“Bollocks,” Hobie retorts, and Miguel sighs. “I knew you would like them,” he mumbles before pulling up information on your Earth onto the monitors. Hobie sees the Venom symbiote pop up and frowns. You haven’t had to deal with that yet. “The Venom symbiote was meant to bond to Hobart Brown on (Y/n)’s Earth. Now, the symbiote is going to bond to (Y/n), which is bad. This symbiote is unlike the other Venoms. It’s angrier. Deadlier. He would have been the worst enemy they ever had to face. I’ve been mentoring them as a secret way to help them train to be able to defeat him because… well…”

“Cause what?”

“Hobie Brown with the Venom symbiote would have been unstoppable,” Miguel says, turning to Hobie and delivering information that makes a chill run down his spine.

“Hobart Brown was meant to kill (Y/n) (L/n).”

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[fangirltothefullest]

Okay but now what if how you designed Remus but in as many words as you want, because I'm loving these design breakdowns

HELL YEAH!

Remus to me is full of chaos but he is also the antithesis of Roman with similar qualities but a total lack of self consciousness or bashfulness. He is freedom and he gives no shits.

Inspiration 1: Mad Madam Mim

I start with a disney character full of chaos and I am inspired by mad Madam Mim because she is wild and chaotic and i absolutely love how fun she is as a villain and the most important thing for me is that Remus is fun. He's bonkers and has terrible ideas but he's also harmless in terms of reality. He's like an annoying little brother that wants to show you the Weird Gunk he found in the trash.

Inspiration 2: Snidley Whiplash (or Dick Dastardly)

Remus to me is a guy who knows a lot of things and he's actually really clever but he wants to BE a villain like Snidley Whiplash or Dick Dastardly, including the moustache. He wants to tie people to train tracks because it's fun. His personality is "I found the dynamite and the roller skates! :D"

Inspiration 3: Wile E Coyote and looney tunes as a concept

If Remus is anything it's a creature that can be stabbed in the eye and come back fine. It's a person who can make acme-like contraptions that do not work and that's ok. He is, if nothing else, Wile E Coyote and he is having the time of his life. He should therefore have hair that is a littler wild and crazy and untamable like Wile E's tail.

Inspiration 3: Royal villains

We will look at Galavant and also OUaT again!

There's nothing quite as detailed in costume as evil royal villains. They always seem to be the most extravagant or at least have all the buckles and things and Remus has an outfit just the same. Like Roman I want his royalty to show with his clothes but unlike Roman I want Remus to look way less put together. More a culmination of his clothes he chooses to wear but only because he HAS to wear something so he's going to show skin.

Particularly though the one I associate with Remus is Captain Hook from Once Upon a Time.

Inspiration 4: Captain Hook / Pirate aesthetics

Roguish, half-opened shirt, details, dressed fancy, swashbuckling. Remus would make a great pirate because he has the swagger and charm of a drunken man sailing a boat with a pet giant octopus he calls Lil Pussy.

Speaking of octopus...

Inspiration 5: Kraken and hentai

He has an octopus on his belt and he deserves tentacles for a pirate feel but also for fuckin. Cause he's a raunchy bastard. Anything taboo is something he wants to think about.

Inspiration 6: Punk aesthetic

What easier way top buck against the norms than to embrace punk vibes? Jewelry, upside-down crosses, I don't like going overboard with it but I like giving him some. Fingerless gloves, chokers with spikes, those kinds of things work well for his "I am everything your religious grandmother hates, embrace it". His outfits that aren't standard could look like he made them himself or found them in the garbage and went "awesome!"

Inspiration 7: Weapon Master

Remus likes to hit things with his mace and while Roman has his sword, I imagine Remus is an expert at weapons or at least likes to use them so even if I am going to dress him up nice I want a weapon nearby somewhere.

Things that are a must:

So many details, Remus will not leave your eyeballs alone. If you think Roman has details nope, Remus wants your eyes to bleed with them.

Remus should have longer hair than Roman, wilder bangs and wilder curls. Shorter hair is fine but a ponytail is even more fun. Like the tie holding it'll break at any moment.

Weapons galore, arm this baby at every opportunity. Likewise, scars are acceptable but it's ok if they disappear at random because chaos loves chaos.

If Remus has his main garb off he should be showing skin to the best of his abilities and his collar should drape down wider than normal because let that man be a slut.

Tentacles should be numerous when shown and they should have a mind of their own doing whatever they want.

If Roman wouldn't wear it, Remus would. If Roman wouldn't think it, Remus would, and if Roman would be disgusted, Remus would love it.

Remus should have annoying little brother vibes.

Any non-standard outfits should look like he cobbled them together with duct tape and chewing gum.

So I came to this:

[dreaming-tonite]

Lovesong (whenever I’m alone with you)

— Even the toughest punk needed a place to call home at the end of the day.

A/N: finished the Spider-Punk solo comic run and I just want to give him a hug...

Pairing: Hobie Brown x reader

Warning: description of open wounds, little hurt and a lot of comfort

Word count: 1.3k

It was usually the crack of dawn when he showed up.

A thump from the living room stirred you awake. The sun was already filtering in through your blinds but the sound of rummaging still put you on alert immediately, instinctively reached for the wooden bat Hobie made you put near your bed when he wasn't around before carefully creeping out of your bed.

("Could never be too careful," he had said, shoving you the bat that he got from god knows where as he perched on your window, mask in hand and guitar on his back, "it's a fucking war zone out there.")

A lean shadow projected onto your walls, limping on its side when you peeked from your door.

You dropped the bat when you recognised who it was immediately.

"Hobie?"

Spider-Punk froze in place when you flipped your lights on, the illumination guiding your eyes to his palm that pressed against the side of his stomach in an instant. His guitar was on the floor somewhere near the window he was swung into your house with, a few specks of blood on the neck and strings loosened from what must have been a long night.

If he was being honest, he felt like shit. But from the corner of his eyes, the sight of you wearing his band t that was far too loose on you still made him want to try to look ok for your sake.

"Mornin' love," he tried to drop his arm but winced as a sharp pain pulsated through his core, eyes furrowing under his mask while crouching forward, "didn't mean to wake you up."

he gave in when you rushed to his side, his free arm swinging over your shoulder limply and trying his best to not put his weight on your smaller frame. Your brows locked together when you saw the red seeping through his suit, bleeding out from where he was trying to hold it in.

"It isn't a deep cut," he said softly, though he was sure it wouldn't make you worry any less, "think I just tore it a lil when I was swinging over, that's all."

"Should I get someone? Ask someone else in the Spider Band to get you back to the base—"

"No, that wouldn't be— that wouldn't be necessary," he paused briefly, "we ran out of gauze at the community centre, thought I'd have a bigger chance finding something to stop the bleeding at your place instead."

He lied, and it was a bad one as well, because you were the one who always made sure their first aid kits were well-stocked and prepared for any sudden raids or clashes they might find themselves into.

The least you could do to support your lover's relentless effort to take down a totalitarian government.

But you didn't say anything, only held onto him when his balance was starting to fail him.

You stumbled backwards before regaining your footing when he lumped forward, his tall frame hinging onto yours as he leaned his masked face onto your shoulder, a muffled groan vibrating against your skin.

"Hobie? Hobes?" you panicked, "Are you sure you're ok? Let me go get the bandages to patch you up—"

"No, just..." he buried his face deeper into the crook of your neck, still careful to make sure the spikes on his mask were out of the way and that he was not getting blood on the shirt you seemed so comfortable in, all while the tiredness slowly took over, "stay with me like this, just for a while."

So you did, taking in a deep breath and letting your eyes close so that the only thing you could feel was him, how he was alive and breathing against you.

Spider-Punk was a fighter, for the people and for the cause. He had lost enough already, and every day he was fighting to grasp at the last bits they were trying to pull from his hands.

The world was not okay, and the only way to pretend it was is to become the kind of people he loathed so much, which he would much rather die fighting than ever become one of those people.

You were sure he loved more deeply than anyone else, because how else could you stay angry at the unjust in the world when the abnormal had become the norm?

It takes a lot of love to try and make things right, and all you wished was that you could give him the same amount of love he had given the world.

So, he was sure you already knew why he still wanted to see you at this unholy hour in the morning, through the pain he was enduring, even just for the brief moment before the sunrises and the city wakes up fully.

Perhaps, deep down, even the toughest fighter wanted to feel like there was somewhere where things were alright, and seeing you safe in the t-shirt he left at your place made him feel like he was alright.

"It's ok, it's ok, I got you..." you fell onto the floor with him when his knees finally bucked, fumbling to lay him down as gently as you could with all his weight on your arms.

This time he didn't protest, perhaps too tired to do it any longer, and he didn't say a word when your fingers stopped at the seam of his mask.

The sound of the first few cars to drive by in the morning was all that filled the living room as he stared right at you, tilting his head slightly to his side as a silent sign to go ahead.

You had always known, but you still liked to ask anyways.

"Hey," Hobie said when you pulled his mask off, a soft smile toying at the corner of his lips as he finally faced you properly.

You couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "Hey," you replied, voice almost like a whisper as you kneeled at his side.

His body stiffened as you carefully peeled his hand away from the bleeding wound and you winced when you saw the skin that was cut open.

"Not a deep cut, you say?" You crooked your brows, pulling out the first aid kit you had stashed away under the nearest table.

"Hm," he hummed, trying his hardest not to jerk forward in pain when you gently peeled off the fabric that stuck to his skin from the dried-up blood, "not a deep one compared to the wound on the other guy."

He watched the way you rolled your eyes at him before averting your attention back to the task a hand. He liked to watch when you were focused, the way you sat cross-legged on the floor and eyebrows scrunched up while taking care of him.

Your shadow was long against the wall as the morning light filled the room, a rare moment of serenity before the day starts when the sound of the outside world felt calming for once.

It felt right, and it felt safe, and his eyes were starting to feel heavy as the morning warmth lured him to sleep.

And you must have seen the way his lids twitched as he tried to stay awake. "It's ok, just let go," you nodded, your thumb tracing down from his temple to his jaw until you were cradling his face, "you're home, you can rest."

Home, the word rolled off your tongue so naturally that he simply could not resist it.

"Sweet dreams," you whispered against his lips and through the drowsiness, he still grinned when he felt the soft peck as he drifted into slumber.

And when he woke up to the sight of you curled up at his side, Hobie knew he finally found his place in the world where things were alright.

[punks-never-die205]

Based on this ask

Ok ok ok maybe not many people can relate to this but hear me out

Imagine being Punk Barbie. Pink leather jacket and knee high boots with wicked rose gold studs and spikes adoring the jacket collar, and toes of the shoe. All weapons have a rose gold handle or are some degree of pink or magenta.

Your clothes are babygorl cute but also kinda deadly. Talking about pastel crop tops with skull prints or obscenities written out. Popping huge pink bubblegum while walking around with a barbed wire wrapped around a hot pink baseball bat...

Or just straight up harley quinn vibes (my queen)

Heck yeah! I love it - just because you're pretty in pink doesn't mean you can't rock the Punk Attitude xD

I'm just thinking about rhinestones on the back of the jacket that spell out "Cute lil Demon" or something. "Shotgun Bitch" idk "Gun Bunny" - the pretty pink little thing in leather and spikes has more ordinance hidden in her pockets than Kid does built into his arm.

[gorgugplushie]

Random hc:

Hallow is great w kids! You’d think they’d b scared but most of them just find her cool looking, shes great at calming them down or getting them to laugh. I like to think she lets them play w her gear a bit like how punks will let kids touch their spikes? maybe shed make lil vials of liquids as toys also. But yeah she loves kids n def will play w any refugee kids.

Val is somewhere on the other end of the spectrum. She dosen’t really know how to handle kids.. nicely?? She’s more likely to be shooed off by Patty or Hallow so they can handle an upset kid. She kind of has that tunnel vision into her work. She’ll make sure their ok and safe but then she’ll move onto the next patient. If she does have the time tho she is 100% patient w them n will speak calmly.

[batz-zzz]

ok so he's done!!!! here's the picrew/drawings i did of him:

his name is jasper kayode!! i haven't decided if i want him to be empowered yet so as of right now he's a regular human.

he's a punk boy at heart so he likes to dye his hair and wear spikes n earrings n stuff. he also plays soccer!!! he loves it a lot and he takes it very seriously so he almost always has a bandaid or a bruise on some part of his face bc of how often he gets hit in the head lmao

not only does he play soccer but he also just like to work out a lot for fun so like. big stronk muscley boy 😍

however!!! do not be fooled by his tough guy aesthetical!!!! he is so sweet and so cute and surprisingly shy at first!!!!!! he does the thing where he gets super excited to talk about stuff he's interested in and it's like watching a puppy,,,,,, he's so adorable

even though he's a trans man he loves to express his femininity through makeup, hence the eyeliner and lipstick (omg periwinkle with lil lipstick marks all over his face,,,,, bless)

in conclusion i love him so much

OH MY GRACIOUS. OH MY GRACIOUS. I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM OH GOD PLEASE I WANNA KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM

does he like video games??/ whats his favorite food?? does he have any pets??? siblings? what are his favorite colors?? whats the story of how him and peri met?? can i kiss his forehead??

[angeltannis]

Mechrogunner: A Headcanon Masterpost

@fudgeroach and I have been cookin’ this ship up for a bit now, and we’ve come up with a bunch of ideas for it that I’m finally ready to post!

Background for context: We both headcanon Moze as a he/him transmasc, so that’s how Moze will be referred to in this post.

So, Gaige and Moze.

How do they meet?

-Pretty simple – at the Wainlock wedding. Moze hasn’t been out just relaxing and having a good time in so long that he stays later than pretty much everyone else. When he’s finally ready to call it a night, he goes up to Hammerlock to let him know. Hammerlock casts a glance over at the bar, where Gaige is practically passed out on the counter by that point, and asks if Moze would be willing to check on her for him. Moze is like “Uhhh...okay...”, not really getting why Hammerlock himself couldn’t just check on her.

Hammerlock, of course, has an agenda, trying to set Gaige up with a friend her own age. He didn’t plan on it going much, much further than that, lol.

Moze sits awkwardly down beside her and is all business, just asking her bluntly if she’s all right. Gaige, flirty drunk that she is, immediately latches on to him, telling him he’s great and that she loves him. Moze internally is like 😳 but acknowledges it’s because she’s drunk. He stays with her for a while, keeping it light, talking about their respective robot BFFs and telling her a couple funny old army stories to keep her awake and with it until she sobers up a little.

Both of them are so lonely that by the end of the night they are definitely both nursing lil crushes, but Moze has thick walls around his heart after what happened to his squad mates, and he’s too traumatized to let anyone in at the moment. When they finally part ways that night, he assumes he’ll never see Gaige again.

Then he gets a text from an unfamiliar number. Turns out Gaige got his number from Hammerlock, and has ““questions about Iron Bear””. (She actually does have questions about Iron Bear because she’s a fucking nerd, but make no mistake, she is definitely interested in both mech AND pilot)

Moze hasn’t been in this kind of position in, well, ever, really. He’s not sure what to do. He really likes talking to Gaige, though – she's stunningly smart, wild and funny as hell. He’s never met a woman like her before. He may not have a clue what she’s talking about half the time, but he sure does love hearing her say it all.

Gaige, on the other hand, is immediately and blatantly smitten with Moze. She tends to develop crushes on pretty much anyone who pays her attention, but Moze was so sweet and gentle with her while she was embarrassingly drunk that Gaige finds herself thinking about him long after they part ways.

The dating stage:

Moze is terrified of opening back up to anybody, so he keeps Gaige at arm’s length even as their texting goes from occasional, to frequent, to most of the day every day. The other Raiders encourage Moze to ask Gaige on a date, but he’s nowhere near ready for that kind of commitment.

When Gaige asks him to bring Iron Bear to her lab-slash-hideout so she can “check him out”, he tells himself and everyone else that it’s just a friend thing.

It’s totally not a friend thing oh God

He’s hanging out in her garage (I imagine Gaige hides out in some craphole abandoned building somewhere and that her garage is also her lab, kitchen, bedroom, etc.), watching her eyes light up as she examines Iron Bear when he realizes he’s in too deep to get out. She pulls a whole-ass little measuring tape out of her hair at one point and he’s like Oh god, you’re adorable and has to bite his tongue to refrain from saying it out loud.

Deathtrap is just watching them, aware that something is up, but he doesn’t know enough about humans to know exactly what it is

The first time Moze feels comfortable enough to show up in something other than his freaking Ursa Corps uniform, he’s a little shy because he’s been chopping at his own hair and feels like a doofus. To his surprise, Gaige lights up and immediately starts complimenting his “punk” hairstyle. She lets her own hair out of the pigtails with a grin, showing that she hacks at her own hair as well. It’s all split ends and uneven layers, and Moze’s heart flutters just a bit as those bright green eyes are suddenly framed by a mess of bouncy orange hair.

While he’s hanging out with Gaige, Moze eventually comes out of his shell enough to start cracking little jokes and feeling a bit more at ease. He hasn’t felt this way since the last night he spent with his squad before Darzaran Bay. Gaige is just so easy to talk to, and she laughs at his jokes and doesn’t pry about his past. He doesn’t pry about hers, either, though he can glean from her current situation that something has clearly gone horribly wrong in her young life.

Gaige is afraid to let anyone into her life, either, since every person who knows her whereabouts is another potential source of danger to her (and to them). She finds herself wondering why this soldier is all alone without a squadron or a battalion or whatever terms the army uses. The faraway look Moze sometimes gets tells her there’s a long and painful story behind it.

It takes a loooooong time, probably close to a year or more, before either of them are ready to admit they’re not just visiting each other as friends multiple times a week. 

They’re sitting outside one evening watching the sunset when Gaige grows uncharacteristically serious. Moze assumes she’s going to confess to some awful crime or something, and his first reaction is “Okay I don’t know what you did but I forgive you and I’ll help you hide the body”. Gaige is like ??? Ok well I did kill somebody in the past but I was actually going to ask if I could kiss you?

Neither of them have ever really had a proper kiss before. They basically end up bonking their faces together like a couple of clueless dorks. It goes on to become a favorite inside joke between them, with the two of them frequently headbutting each other and then having a good, confusing-to-everyone-else laugh about it.

The relationship:

-Moze is self conscious about his height, but it turns out Gaige actually prefers it because then she doesn’t feel like such a shrimp herself. Short couple rights

-Still though, Moze likes to wear his chunkiest combat boots when they’re together together so they’re at least equal size. Eventually Gaige starts wearing her own old combat boots, though, so poor Moze can’t win lol

-They’re not real sappy out in public, but they’re always either holding hands or Moze has an arm loosely around Gaige’s waist (or vice versa which makes Moze go “NOO I’m supposed to be the one doing that!!” And Gaige is like “Muahaha, Feminism Babey >:D”)

-Gaige found out Moze has a corporate tattoo and since then his life has never known peace (she teases him about it relentlessly)

-Moze sends lovey-dovey memes and texts...exclusively in Russian. Forcing Gaige to put them through a translator helps put a little bit of distance between the words and his feelings, so he doesn’t feel quite so vulnerable...

…But then Gaige struggles to learn some basic Russian in secret, and the next time Moze says something corny she can actually understand it and responds in kind. Moze is floored

-Gaige is a ball of repressed horny nerdiness. Moze was never very sexual to begin with, and his trauma has basically turned him completely asexual. While at first Gaige was (inwardly) a bit disappointed, as time goes on she realizes she cares way more about Moze than she cares about getting laid.

She’s still a slut for cuddles, though – and luckily Moze is willing to provide. At first he insists on being the “big spoon” (more like the backpack), but it’s tough to resist being held by a pretty girl who covers you in kisses and takes the time to change into her non-spiked metal arm after that one time she forgot and almost got you in the eye with a spike

-Gaige sleeps in a bed that’s FULL of pillows and blankets and stuffed animals and anything soft and Moze, who is used to sleeping on a barren military cot if not just on the floor, is like “Oh God, I’m drowning”

All you see is his hand reaching desperately out of a pillow pile before it, too, is absorbed and he disappears completely

-Semi-related to the last bit: Gaige sleeps completely sprawled out in her bed while Moze curls up tight, taking up as little space as possible. Occasionally he gets grabbed like a stuffed animal and smushed up against Gaige’s chest in her sleep. He finds he actually likes being held while he sleeps. It helps keep away some of the nightmares.

-When eventually Gaige finds out what happened to Moze, she starts ranting about the military-industrial complex and corporate corruption and Moze is kinda 😥 because he was basically bottle-fed army propaganda since he was born, but it all makes sense, and the military did fuck him over, and maybe there’s so much more to this than he even realized…

-Finding out Gaige’s backstory, Moze is like “Psh, Marcie Halloway sounds like a cunt. I would’ve killed her ass, too.”

-Moze never allows anyone else to even look inside Iron Bear’s pilot seat because of all his private belongings (ie the photos and mementos he keeps of his old squad mates). Gaige never outright asks because she knows it’s personal, but one day Moze asks if she'd like to have a look inside and see if there’s any cool stuff she would want to build into Bear. Gaige realizes that’s a huge step in their relationship because of how much trust it requires on Moze’s part, and she is like !!! “Yes of COURSE”

-[Gaige voice] So when am I gonna get to be Mrs. Gaige Hayussinian Yan-Lun Al-Amir Andreyevna?

-Both of them will eat anything, so romantic dinners can consist of anything from actual gourmet food to “Want a bite of my fried ratch?” “Um, obviously?? Gimme-“

-Perks of dating someone your own size: You can easily wear each other’s clothes. Cue Moze showing up to Sanctuary in a spiked leather jacket with patches shittily ironed on all over it, and Gaige keeping warm in an Ursa Corps bomber jacket (that she covers with patches and stickers to hide the Vladof advertising)

-Gaige operating Moze’s Dakka Bear turret, wildly spraying bullets and screaming catch phrases while Moze is in the pilot seat like 🥰 You’re wasting all my ammo but god I love you

-Moze jumping into combat: All right, let’s do this shit *puts on his helmet with pink skulls and hearts and PROPERTY OF GAIGE 💜 spray painted all over it*

-Gaige is still worried about being caught by the cops, which can make dates a little difficult, but she’s admittedly a little more at ease now that she travels with a fifteen-ton mech and his dashing pilot.

[everchased]

Ok, potentially ignorant question, what is the difference between emo, metal, and punk music? I grew up mostly listening to classic rock and didn't really get exposed to this whole world until adulthood, but when I go to listen to playlists of these genres, they all just sound like iterations of rock music and I don't get what the big fuss is about as far as the delineations go. To use Gerry's color metaphor, they sound like lilac, violet, and plum, but they all still sound purple

you’re right, they are all rock music! but rock is a very, very, very, very big genre. i wrote a whole essay as a response to this but realized no one would fucking want to read that so HERE ARE THE HIGHLIGHTS of why they’re similar but Not The Same.

metal music:

evolved from the hard rock scene

focuses on the complexity of solos and riffs, extreme skill in guitar work

higher priority of music over lyrics, the sound itself is an expression of creativity

lyrics tend toward the metaphorical instead of literal, lots of symbolism and mythology

very structured instrumentals

metalhead fashion usually consists of trip pants, cargo pants, or jeans, a band shirt, long hair, spikes, silver chains, and black face paint/make up. there’s an emphasis but not a requirement of black

Example: The Enemy Inside by Dream Theater

punk music:

very adaptable genre, much simpler guitar style influenced by Johnny Ramone

originally started as a countermovement to prog rock (which, like metal, is very much focused on technical complexity)

focuses mainly on the message and doesn’t really give a shit who can play the fastest solo

HUGE scene in britain and europe.

(there’s recently been some bleed between punk and metal as the punk mentality has broadened to encompass other genres)

punk fashion focuses on ripped skinny jeans, band shirts, and leather or jean jackets that are covered in pins and patches and buttons

Example: Something to Believe In by The Ramones, or more recently, Someday by The Strokes

emo music:

much more of a focus on emotions (hence the name) and personal/relationship matters as opposed to sociopolitical matters

compared to the other two it’s more expressive and melodic

slower and less aggressive, more melancholy

has its roots in a response to the growing violence in the punk scene

emo fashion is usually centered around the colors black, red, and sometimes pink. emphasis on jewelry, tight pants, dyed streaks in the hair, and hair that’s swooped in front of the face

Example: MakeDamnSure by Taking Back Sunday

TL;DR: think of metal and punk as two trees in the forest of rock music, and sometimes a couple of their many, many branches kinda like. brush and kiss a lil bit when the wind blows just right. and emo is a tiny little baby branch on the punk tree.

[gingerest-ale]

YOUR PUNK AU ART has me on the floor. Absolutely spectacular!!!!! If you want to elaborate on your artistic choices I for one would LOVE to hear it <3

THANK UUUU!!!!!!!! also again i want to give credit to thee lovely castielsweedgarden (tumblr won’t let me tag them) for the original concept, the original post is here and their tag for alt!natural posts is here all their content is SO DAMN GOOD please check it out

OK ARTISTIC CHOICES. So for some background I’m a costume designer so I actually spent a lot of time doing research for these outfits and also I pay way to much attention to detail so get ready for an infodump because im a nerd.

DEAN

ok so my headcanon for the jacket (and if u read the og post this will make more sense hgafkgsjk) is that Dean stole it from John the night he and Sam ran away and he starts to modify it and make it his own and put patches on it that would piss off John and thats why he keeps wearing it because he took this thing his dad loved and made it his own and that is the ultimate “fuck you” to John.

Dean keeps his hair in a really short crew cut because i really enjoy Dean teasing Sam about their hair being long

Sam and Dean dye their hair in motel bathrooms and Dean changes colour every other month meanwhile Sam just dyes their hair black because “i dont want to damage my hair with bleach Dean”

I had a lot of fun with the patches and most are pretty self explanatory BUT i want to draw attention to: 

the handprint patch on Dean’s shoulder right above where the actual handprint is

the patch that says “i love my non binary child” is the first patch that goes on the jacket because Dean wants to support Sam and it is thee ultimate patch that would piss John off

The bee patch was a gift from Cas <3

Deans shirt is ripped from hunting but he likes the aesthetic of it 

The chain around his neck is silver or iron or some other useful ghosthunting metal

also the tattoo on Dean’s hand is inspired by this one fic its so good please read it

Dean wears a bunch of jewelry and you can’t see it but he also has a bunch of tattoos

SAM

Sam wears platform boots and it makes them like 7 feet tall but its ok its what they deserve

I said this in the tags but ill say it again: Sam got the spiked choker because they were tired of getting strangled by monsters all the time and honestly i think a lot of canon!Sam’s problems could be solved if he just wore a spiked choker

Anytime Dean teases Sam about their fashion choices Sam always tells him thats its for practical reasons. The rosary? Its for making holy water in a pinch. The ripped fishnets? they’ll just get ripped anyways. The platform boots? its too intimidate monsters. The spiked choker? Its self defence Dean come on, it’s a purely tactical decision, no aesthetic reason at all.

Sam modified the sweater themself. Spent the long hours in the car embroidering an exorcism onto a cropped sweater (it didn’t use to be cropped, but a werewolf clawed into the bottom part of it and well. here we are) in pink thread and sewing some black lace onto the hem.

why yes, Sam’s skirt does have a blood splatter on it!! you would think this would get Sam some suspicious looks, but their aesthetic is so Like That that people assume its just painted on in an attempt to be edgy. People who assume this are wrong.

Sam likes wearing revealing clothing because it lets other people see how insanely strong and muscled they are and alt!Sam loves being absolutely intimidating to people.

Like. Imagine. This seven foot tall giant shows up, wearing all black and spikes and you can see their insanely muscular thighs under the fishnets and oh god why do they have so many scars you Do Not Want To Mess With Them.

to be clear I think alt!Sam is just as much a sweetheart as canon!Sam is but they dont try to make themself look smaller

CAS

The shirt Cas is wearing says “BOB the man, the myth, the legend” and it is very much based on a shirt my lovely gf has.

The reason cas is dressed Like That is because he woke Jimmy up in the middle of the night and the tshirt and sweatpants and the socks are Jimmy’s pyjamas and of course he had to grab his coat and put on his crocs shoes before leaving the house to get possessed by an angel, he’s a sensible man!!!

ok so i need to talk about the crocs because some people seem unhappy about them. Castiel does not care about human fashion standards. He does not care about how he is perceived by others. Crocs are sturdy, comfortable, practical shoes to him and thats all that matters, why are you laughing Dean? They’re waterproof!

I honestly don’t know why i drew Cas with hoop earrings it just felt right but my current headcanon is because he say Beyoncé wearing some or something.

ok trench coat doodles time!!!!! there are many of them and i wont go into all of them but here are a few noteworthy ones

the one on the top right is based off a lil doodle one of writers did for a fan I think??? I can’t remember someone please link the post ;;

dean just doodles lil bees and hearts all over the place because they make Cas happy

theres a badly drawn Leviathan on there. in case you were wondering what that is

so many games of tic tac toe were played on the trench coat. Sam always takes the circles. Sam always wins.

the big heart on the bottom right contains a doodle of the poodle Dean found hot on that one terrible episode. I’m not sorry. 

I did draw an airplane with gun arms. it’s an inside joke i have with my gf. No i will not elaborate. I think that Dean drew that on there because he thought the idea was funny.

bottom left corner has cool sun wearing sunglasses because we are all kindergarteners 

the SW and DW drawn on the coat are because they put their initials on the places they call home. 

Thank u for your ask my apologies for writing ten million words about it please enjoy

[sereiapiranhatxt]

A Rihanna Matou o Seapunk???

Estava eu, numa bela noite de Novembro de 2012, serena e tranquilamente rolando minha timeline do tumblr rumo ao infinito e reblogando os gifs de golfinhos cromados e ondas furta-cor que me apareciam, quando um passarinho azul me trouxe a notícia de que a música Diamonds da Rihanna tinha matado o seapunk. Foi um baque. Como assim matou…? Já vivíamos num mundo pós- Man Down, eu já tava ligada que RiRi né brinquedo, mas não imaginava que ela poderia obliterar uma microcultura inteira…?

Depois fui entendendo que aquele rebuliço era por causa da apresentação dela no Saturday Night Live (SNL)--que pros gringos é tipo um Domingão do Faustão misturado com Zorra Total--cujo cenário era uma tela azul onde eram projetados visuais não muito diferentes daquilo que eu estava reblogando no meu próprio tumblr. Mas até aí tudo bem gente, normal. Alguns artigos e video ensaios mais recentes--como o da Vox, de 2016--apontam este como O ponto de decadência do seapunk, mas não é como se de repente todos aqueles golfinhos tivessem desaparecido do tumblr. E na real, os caras que se intitulam criadores do seapunk já tinham anunciado a morte do movimento 8 meses antes disso, para quase nenhum efeito. 

Mas peraí, quem são esses mesmo? Como assim alguém criou o seapunk? O que é o seapunk afinal de contas??

A maioria das fontes aponta o momento de nascimento do seapunk durante uma troca de twits entre dois amigues, produtores e artistas multimidia: Lil Internet, que, na madrugada do dia 1 pro dia 2 de Junho de 2011, ao acordar de um sonho, tuitou algo como:

“JAQUETAS DE COURO SEAPUNK COM BARBATANAS NO LUGAR DOS SPIKES”;

e Lil Government, que respondeu o twit da amigue com algo como:

 “BORA TIRAR ESSA ONDA #SEAPUNK”

os tuítes originais de Lil Internet e Lil Government (prints delus)

Algumes outres amigues dos dois, achando graça na conversa e na hashtag, começaram a usá-la regularmente em seus próprios posts no twitter. Uma dessas amigas era a DJ e produtora Lily Redwine, também conhecida como Ultrademon e Fire for Effect, que em dezembro de 2011 se mudaria para Chicago, cidade estadunidense mãe da house music, e lá fundaria a Coral Records Iternazionale, que promovia bailes seapunk em Chicago e, posteriormente, também  em outras cidades dos Estados Unidos e Europa. Ao que tudo indica, também foi Ultrademon quem, no meio de 2011, fez o grupo fechado no facebook para que aqueles amigos que usavam a hashtag no twitter continuassem a troca de imagens e músicas que criavam, expandindo a estética evocada pelo registro do sonho que Lil Internet teve naquela madrugada de junho de 2011.  

Se você já participou de um grupo fechado de qualquer coisa no facebook, sabe o quão incontroláveis e caóticos eles são. O grupo foi inflando muito rápido, e os posts começaram a “vazar”, sobretudo para uma certa rede social ao lado, focada na criação e reverberação de conteúdo digital que, na época, experimentava um boom de usuários ativos: o tumblr. Era nascida uma a e s t e t i c a. A relação entre a plataforma tumblr, as microculturas que se propagam nela e as culturas pop mainstream é, em si só, assunto para vários artigos. Miles Rayner, em seu artigo de 12 de Janeiro de 2012 para o Chicago Reader “The week seapunk broke: A fast-evolving Internet-born dance-music microscene puts down roots in Chicago”, escreve que o tumblr e o twitter são “redes nichadas” onde é “geralmente esperado que se encontre conhecimentos atualizados minuto a minuto sobre microtendências da cultura dance music”.

 Para os espectadores desavisados do SNL, aquela noite de 12 de Novembro de 2012 em que Rihanna apresentou seu mais novo single, Diamonds, provavelmente foi um pouco confusa, mas não me lembro do choque ter gerado qualquer repulsa especialmente forte à estética seapunk, muito pelo contrário. O site Buzzfeed e o canal de música Vh1--dois grandes veículos de mídia cuja linha editorial se retroalimenta diretamente da cultura jovem e digital--prontamente abordaram o acontecido, mas não expandiram muito na explicação sobre as referências e origens dos visuais da apresentação, e em vez disso, trataram o assunto como fofoca de treta entre artistas, contribuindo para uma narrativa de disputa pelo seapunk, que já pairava no ar da microcomunidade desde o começo de 2012. 

Entre os dias 12 e 16 de Novembro de 2012, o Buzzfeed publicou 3 artigos em que posicionava Rihanna e web artistas seapunk em lados opostos do ringue: “Web Artists Are Furious At Rihanna And Azealia Banks”, “Seapunks Strike Back At Rihanna” e “Why Rihanna Going Seapunk Is Totally OK”. O primeiro destes artigos foca na reação imediata à apresentação de Diamonds por parte de artistas seapunks nas redes sociais, alguns dos quais sugeriram que as projeções lembravam muito o trabalho do VJ e DJ Jerome LOL, que durante a apresentação, publicou dois twits que foram parar no artigo do Buzzfeed.

No primeiro, ele comenta algo tipo: “Tou lhe vendo viu Rihanna” 

No segundo, minutos depois, ele indaga: “Quem é o responsável pela direção de arte da performance da Rihanna no SNL?”

Essa pergunta se tornou cada vez mais intrigante para mim conforme fui fazendo a pesquisa para este artigo e não encontrava a resposta para ela em lugar algum. Ninguém no Twitter soube informar Jerome (ou, se soube, achou por bem não informar) e o Buzzfeed e o Vh1 repetiram o primeiro twit dele em seus vários takes sobre assunto, mas não responderam à pergunta do segundo. Essa informação também não consta na página do IMDB (Internet Movie Data Base) do episódio do SNL em questão, e nem em nenhum outro artigo que li sobre a apresentação. Se você que está lendo de algum jeito teve acesso a essa informação, por favor entre em contato. Nem no terceiro artigo do Buzzfeed, o “Why Rihanna Going Seapunk Is Totally OK”, que é um artigo particularmente longo sobre porque é natural, esperado e inquestionável que equipes de grandes gravadoras que assessoram pop stars se apropriem da estética de microculturas em nome da popularização destas; nem neste artigo, eles se deram ao trabalho de procurar saber quem foi a pessoa responsável por trazer uma microcultura supernichada de internet para a performance de uma das mais famosas cantoras pop do mundo, em horário nobre da rede nacional de televisão estadunidense.

*suspiro*

Tirando o artigo de Raymer pro Chicago Reader, e o que O Globo publicou em 10 de fevereiro de 2012, escrito por Carol Luck e infelizmente limitado por uma maldita paywall (num artigo de 9 anos atrás mas “ok”), que também me pareceu, à primeira vista, um texto bem completo e respeitoso, num geral, as análises sobre seapunk publicadas em 2012 a que tive acesso falham em tratá-lo seriamente como a microcultura alternativa que é, simplesmente por ter se disseminado na forma de meme. 

No video ensaio do canal Vox “How seapunk went from meme to mainstream”, Ultrademon confessa que:

 “Participar de algo que é também um meme, te faz questionar seu trabalho, tipo, isso é uma piada? Alguma coisa do que estou fazendo presta? Eu posso ser levada a sério?”

O artigo publicado no New York Times em 2 de Março de 2012, intitulado “A Pequena Sereia Vira Punk - Uma Piada da Internet com Música Tem Seu Momento” parece, em plenos anos 2010, deslumbrado demais com o fato de que pessoas criam e compartilham imagens, sons e vídeos via internet, para de fato analisar o conteúdo artístico produzido por essas pessoas. 

O texto conta com o depoimento da artista conhecida como Zombelle, outra integrante do "círculo original" de amigos seapunks, que expressa seus receios de que celebridades pop stars--ela fala de Lady Gaga e Azealia Banks, especificamente--estariam tomando para si a estética seapunk, como se esta simplesmente brotasse da internet--ironicamente, a expressão exata que o artigo usa para “explicar” as origens do movimento. 

“Ninguém de fato nos dá crédito”, ela lamenta. “Tem pessoas que trabalham para Lady Gaga que estão no meu círculo de amizades”. 

Muito que bem Zombelle, cá estou eu, lhe dando crédito, lembrando seu nome. Por um acaso você não se lembraria do nome dessas pessoas do seu círculo de amizades...?

Ainda no mesmo artigo, questionada sobre Azelia Banks (que desde o início de sua carreira no fim dos anos 2000 adotou para si a imagem de sereia), Zombelle responde: 

“Sereias são harpias malignas que seduzem marinheiros para sua morte”,

 o que honestamente me faz rir de nervoso. Olha, não tô aqui pra julgar quem é mais ou menos legítimo, mas se estivesse, minha visão é que Azealia, uma Omo Yemonja, e Rihanna, uma pessoa criada numa cidade litorânea num país caribenho, tem tanto direito a estéticas marinhas oníricas quanto aquelus nerds brancs e queer do interior dos Estados Unidos. Tipo, essa disputa em si me parece ridícula, e mais uma daquelas situações em que me pego pensando “a quem essa narrativa se presta?”

À essa altura, Lil Internet e Lil Government também se mostravam preocupados quanto a questão de autoria, propriedade e legitimidade do movimento seapunk. Seis dias após a publicação do artigo no New York Times, e pouco menos de oito meses antes da apresentação de Rihanna no SNL, em 18 de Março de 2012, a Vice publicou um artigo de autoria delus intitulado “Seapunk Washes Up - The Untold Story Of The Microniche”, algo como “Seapunk Morre Na Praia - A História Não Contada do Micro Nicho”. O texto tem um sutil tom amargo, principalmente em relação a Ultrademon e Zombelle, que Lil Internet e Goverment acreditam estarem levando todo o crédito pela criação do movimento. Em certo ponto, elus desabafam: 

“Seapunk hoje é como uma ex-namorada que achávamos que conhecíamos, mas daí ela cortou os cabelos, os pintou de turquesa, começou a ouvir músicas diferentes e desmarcou suas fotos antigas no Facebook. E, apesar de não sentirmos mais nada por ela (o que estávamos pensando?), é inegável os níveis de entretenimento sem precedentes que a experiência de assistir a esse processo proporciona.“ 

Sério caras. Elus prosseguem argumentando que tanto as popstars que supostamente “sugaram” a estética seapunk quanto artistas digitais independentes que buscaram qualquer tipo de retorno financeiro às suas contribuições para a microcultura (como as próprias Ultrademon e Zombelle) são todes traidores do movimento, que levaram a piada, que o seapunk essencialmente é, a sério demais, e exauriram sua graça. Mas elus juram que não estão chateades com isso não, por elus tudo bem essas pessoas usarem a estética, desde que, se puderem, a chamem de outra coisa. “Sugerimos #waverave”. Não sei vocês, mas eu até desenterrar esse artigo de 9 anos atrás nunca tinha visto essa tag em nenhum texto, comentário ou post de artes visuais ou música.

Acho que qualquer pessoa que já participou de um nicho, microcultura ou cena cultural consegue identificar o que tava rolando aqui. Independentemente de quem deu o golpe fatal, gatekeeping e narrativa de impostor já envenenavam a comunidade seapunk por meses. Lil Internet e Lil Government até chegam a admitir no artigo da Vice que o grupo seapunk do Facebook, que antes era um ambiente descontraído de compartilhamento de memes/artes, nos últimos meses tinha se tornado um espaço de discussões intermináveis sobre as minúcias de classificação  do que é e o que não é seapunk.  

Com o fim de 2012, O termo seapunk foi lentamente se desvanecendo de volta à obscuridade, mas sua influência até hoje é sensível, tanto em outras microculturas de internet, quanto na cultura pop mainstream. Em Outubro de 2013, o produtor de vapor trap conhecide como Blank Banshee lançou seu segundo album, “1”, que traz samplers da linha vocal de Diamonds em duas faixas, sendo uma delas a intro “B:/Infinity Login”. Em 2016, Rihanna lançou “Anti”, seu 8o disco de estúdio, que trazia perceptíveis influências de vaporwave e lo-fi na produção de faixas como “James Joint” e o cover de Tame Impala “Same Ol’ Mistakes”.

O que aprendi com tudo isso é que é muito difícil manter o monopólio de uma microcultura ou cena artística, seja nas mãos de um artista individual, restrito a um círculo exclusivo de amizades ou sob as garras de uma grande gravadora. Mesmo sob amarras e mais amarras de poder econômico e falácia conceitual, é quase impossível conter os tentáculos de influência e inspiração fazendo cosquinha no cérebro de artistas uma vez que estes os alcançam. E também que gatekeeping e narrativa de impostor são alimentadas por paranóias competitivas sobre propriedade e legitimidade, que podem ter efeitos destrutivos para toda uma microcomunidade artística.

[cryptocism]

So since pretty much everyone agrees that Tim needs a name change, and I think most people dislike the first two RR costumes (I dislike the pretty much Robin one too, because it seems like he hasn’t accept losing Robin, when I feel a lot of his comics right after Bruce W died was about that?) which leads me to: What do you think Tim’s costume would look like if he got a good outfit, and what name?

o yeah i was not a fan of the cowl. and the n52 design is just… so busy and excessively accessorised (excessorised???) - i drew it a couple times for this project im workin on and the whole process was me squinting at reference panels and whispering softly but passionately “what the fuck” - and i agree on the rebirth RR design, it looks more derivative of dick and jasons retconned robin costumes than inspired by tims og 80s design (however. the unternet costume - its simple and appealing and clearly nightwing-inspired and i am a fan, also the giant scythe/halberd/mace thing was so ridiculous i loved it)

which is why i thank pat gleason for my life bc tims new outfit is such a good modernisation of his original robin design. so i mean to answer ur question i think tim has a p good design right now (although not for long i guess since they announced hed get a new look/codename soon) BUT if i were in charge of debuting a new design and name… hm……….

whatever his new name is, it’d preferably have something to do with wherever his personal storyline is headed, which i dont know, and for all my complaining abt how red robin is a shit name i dont actually have great alternatives lol. i did see somewhere the suggestion for the name “Cardinal” which i dont hate, so ill use that as a placeholder for now (although “Halcyon” is an interesting option)

tangentially, my personal preference for his robin graduation would be a miniseries featuring tim and damian both as robin, begrudgingly having to work together to fight some greater enemy and becoming true brothers along the way. ending with tim giving damian his blessing to be robin (a post-mantle blessing but still) with the first amicable passing on of the robin title literally ever

as for Look: his new design should a) accurately reflect his character b) mesh well with whatever tone his personal storyline is going for c) be a natural progression of gleasons newest iteration while still d) able to stand as its own iconic look

i always thought tim would do really well in a more grounded noir-style detective story, both using and especially subverting the tropes of the genre (for instance tim befriends every femme fatale and romances absolutely zero of them. theyre pals and have weekly movie nights or smthn) obvs using some of the mystery elements to springboard into classic comic wild times etc etc. theres also a great opportunity to include some more cyberpunk aesthetics to the look and feel ofthe story

i.e. tim is part of the waynetech r&d teams, working with them to develop new technologies, and proceeding to test out some of the prototypes while doing vigilante work (bc terry had to get his rocket boots from somewhere ok). gotham is still gotham, but its starting to see some of that neo-futuristic/blade runner flavour from batman beyond.

so. cyberpunk detective story starring cha boy tim drake. im not gonna draw it rn but lemme just gather some ref elements here in case i ever do

first off - motorcycle, obviously. redbird is back babey and this time its a two-wheeler. all his gear would be modded the hell out of, but the motorcycle itself would be an approximate balance of 70% ducati and 30% tron lightcycle situation. a speedy bike with ample room for the edgy overkill batfam aesthetic, with maybe a little akira in there who knows

same goes for helmet; 70/30 on this modern/cyberpunk situation. heres a quickly photoshopped “cardinal” helmet lol 

although theres totally room for some daft-punk leds in there. serving as a heads up display AND a fun neon aesthetic. I really want to play into that John Wick neo-noir situation.

besides that… ive got a preference for street style over the superhero spandex, so… detective jacket. every detective has a good jacket. norm breyfogle made a comment on his early tim robin designs that itd be pretty either/or on jacket vs cape, merging the two looked a little silly. for robin they probably decided on cape to keep things classic, but for cardinal i can do what i want

and i want to bring back some of this popped collar.

which i basically did for that other tim design i drew, which i still like, so this one would probably be at least a lil borrowed from that. 

attempting to merge cape/jacket might end up smthn like these:

which admittedly i like. 

admittedly… i do also like the concept of wings introduced in tims n52 design, i just think they couldve been hidden/incorporated better

greig rapson had a sweet robin design that had a sort of flight-suit (which dove into the actual mechanics??? i love) and since id want to dive into tim testing out waynetech prototypes, its a pretty good natural progression from him to terrys glider thing

the whole ensemble would be fairly understated however - enough to semi blend in with any crowd, hero or civilian. after all the story focus would be just as much about solving the mystery as it is punching the bad guy

the various interchangeable gadgets would be both prototypes of terrys eventual batsuit, and also all the failed prototypes that never managed to get off the ground. just to add an element of tension/plot devices wherein tims gear could break or malfunction pretty much anytime.

im fixated on this rocket boot situation though so itd be a paired down version of terrys eventual seamless/invisible design. still noticable and clunky, but working with the sleek modernish style outlined by gleason

smthn almost similar to the prowler actually from spiderverse - as in: Clearly Rocketboots, and clearly diy’d the shit out of, but still working with that Aesthetic

(most of the screencaps of prowler are dark af so im taking this from jesus alonso iglesias concept art) 

im debating on the addition of more overtly birdlike/cyberpunk elements, so ill add this here cause its dope as fuck (from ahmet atil akar). 

and a lot of batclan capes tend to end with that concave spiked look, which works great for bats but not really for birds. a tailcoat might emulate the bird tail, but it also might evoke Penguin a lil too much idk.

also in the interest of keeping everything within the same sort of design language, i would Love to see some new villains emulating deconstructionist/architectural kawakubo fashion:

like could you imagine the supervillain potential

so uhhh yeah. budding cyberpunk detective story with a little noir and a little technological advancement progressing in fits and starts. taking from the gleason foundation with heavy black featuring brighter coloured accents and modern sleekness, made a little dorky via prototype technology, with some extra neon blade runner shit thrown in there.

depending on how much i love or hate the new codename/design reveal i might draw this via inspired motivation or spiteful motivation lol

[gayfanficsanonymous]

Hey darling its luca could I have a bnha matchups pretty please 🥺 I'm 5'3, kinda chubby and have short pink hair. I'm alt and dress very punk but im really sweet and so protective over my friends. I'm very soft and kinda sensitive but also not afraid to kick some ass, I love affection and I'm very good at giving it too! You probably know a lot about me anyway lmao so I'm gonna keep this short 💕

ok ok ok i gotchu

I, GOD OF CURBSTOMPING PEDOS, PAIR THOU WITH...

Tokoyami!!

ok before i get hate for this

let me e x p l a i n

this dude is a ginormous softie

plus both of you radiate 

“i’m a sweetheart but i’ll knife a bitch for stealing a tater tot” energy

he just loves to give you affection

all 

the 

damn 

time 

he’ll hold hands, hug you, and cuddle with you in public 

or not in public if you don’t like pda

with consent, of course

he feels bad for not being able to initiate kisses

but look at that fucking beck

c’mon, toko, you cant just give luca a peck outta nowhere

you kiss him on the side of the beck

or neck 

whichever

will play with your hair if you let him

(but he will not without your consent)

always ask before touching anyone’s hair

he just is obsessed with your clothes and style 

not in a gross way, pervs 

he’ll let you borrow any of his endless belts with the lil spikes

“awww you look like piers, my star” calls you that bc you “shine so bright in his eyes”

loves that you are always ready to kick ass 

like when mineta made a creepy comment about mina’s body 

you were so close to murdering him 

but dark shadow had to help him, bakugo, kiri, sero, and denki hold you back 

they all gave you like two minutes to do whatever before separating you two 

they would’ve let you kill him but the bakusquad wouldn’t have been complete with you in prison 

you just got off with a warning from aizawa 

he didn’t even give a shit 

just warned you to do it on tile or outside next time so it’ll be easier to clean up the blood 

oh gods were you pissed that day 

he was about to propose then and there

please tell me if you like it! if you want changes, then i gotchu!

[praphit]

Slender Man: They hate him cuz they ain't him

It was a big weekend in movies! We were torn between two films. There was of course "BlackkKlansman" - this movie has strong acting, the amazing and quite possibly the angriest director out there Spike Lee, and even that Adam Driver guy I feel has been on the come up. Tons of social commentary: important thangs to talk about concerning race, this nations history with slavery, and the current state of our government... good stuff! Hittin all of the issues! -  BUT, that's not the movie we chose to see.

We naturally went with "Slender Man" instead.

You might say "But, John Praphit, BlackkKlansman has Denzel Washington's son, important issues, and powerful directing... what were you thinking?"

Hey, don't sell The Slender Man short - he has with him... um... Joey King! And... Julia Goldani Telles.

You say "Who the hell are they?"

Yeah, idk. I've also never heard of the production companies or the director, BUT that might only mean they haven't had their fair shot; this could be it! And maybe Slender Man is also filled with the social issues of the day; you don't know! - but I'm here to tell you:)

Let's take a look at SM here -

He's really rockin that no face thing isn't he?? See, many might try hair with the lack of a face. I think no hair is a good call. Imagine Slender Man with an afro;

he'd look ridiculous. And that suit - are you kiddin me??! YES! I mean, idk why he needs a nice suit when he only hangs out in the woods, but... he's prepared. We all have that friend who's always overdressed; though we may make fun of them, part of us kinda wants to be them. Idk what's going on with those tentacles/ tree limbs growing out from behind him... he must be self-sonscious of them though, because whenever they start to show in this film, they cut away. He's got too much style to be a horror movie monster. Perhaps this well dressed creature is simply misunderstood.

Despite his dreaminess, this movie stars more than SM, but these fine what's-their-name actresses. The movie starts off with four girls, who have been close friends for a while, who have a hangout featuring vodka, porn, and occult stuff. One thing I appreciate about this movie is that they get into the horror quickly. There's a lil build up to show how close they all are, and some family atmosphere, but then we're right into the scary.

I have to mention the family dinner :) It must be an art form to capture genuine dinner scenes, cuz this one didn't have it. One of the daughters in the dinner scene only drank water... I mean no eating of anything... she had food, why just the drinking of water... curious. And there's a dad in the beginning dinner scene who's buttering his bread for like 5 mins. I was thinking at the moment "Is anyone going to bring up daddy's butter problem?" He was just buttering and buttering and asking the kids about their days, and right back to buttering.

(the war ain't over for this family)

Sooooo, back to the vodka, porn, and occult.

THAT, my friends is a hell of a weekday (school night) hangout. The gathering around the Tv for pornography and summoning of demonic beings are to be expected - their kids, let them have fun! BUT, the drinking! - Parents, be better! Their ruined teenage livers are on you.

It's straight forward. They watch some weird vid (kinda like "The Ring") and the craziness begins. Apparently, after watching this vid, you may start to see The Slender Man; if you do he's got you. You will either end up missing or go crazy... or both, I guess. One of their friends goes missing, and they begin their search for answers. They end up asking some stranger that they met on the internet for advice, and this stranger tells them to offer Slender Man something of value to them in exchange for their friend.

Ok, so let's rewind. They follow a STRANGER'S advice to go into the woods and sacrifice things of value to some supernatural being. They do this dumb thing, but they kinda half-ass it. Their "things of value" end up being a photograph, something one of them made in arts & crafts... and like a lucky T-shirt or something. Your friend has just been kidnapped! You may want to dig a lil deeper. "Here Slender Man, let me offer you my last chicken nugget. I'm full anyway. Can I have my friend back?" 

The Slender Man must have thought to himself "Arts & Crafts? Really? These girls must be trying to punk me." He then spends the rest of the movie making them regret their poor sacrificial decisions.

When the cool and creepy gets going, it doesn't stop, and it's very effective. I love how they mess with the audiences heads with the imagery. You'll start seeing Slender Man everywhere. They don't rely on cheap gore scenes and jump scares, which I also appreciated about this movie. They even use scenes that lead you to believe something horrific is about to happen, but then it won't... not in a disappointing way, but it's intense. Well done!

The two actresses that I mentioned earlier are also good in this movie.

One of them has that glassy-I-could-cry-at-any-moment-eyes. She'll make you feel her pain.

There's another actress in here who does a good job at making us believe she's scared. It's like they gave her hallucinogens and filmed her having a bad reaction.

This is another one of those supernatural monster movies when everyone just kinda has to guess what to do. Sometimes, in these types of movies there's an expert of sorts, but the only "experts" here are strangers online.

I enjoyed this movie:)

Though, when I say they had to figure things out (and I understand that), there are things they should have known to do and to not do. There are plenty of things that the writers either didn't think about or didn't care about.

The kids for example, run out into the middle of the woods AT NIGHT to sacrifice their items, which no one told them to do. Literally, the middle of the woods! Forget Slender Man, there are all kinds of things that could happen out there. Which again, parents, you're bleeping up!

And about these parents, where the hell were they?! Some of these parents are barely around (buttering bread), while others are never around. One of your kids was just abducted! More of them are losing their minds! WHERE ARE YOU?!

There is one slight spoiler I'll throw in - one of their friends (who happens to be black)... something happens to her, and when her friends find out the state that she's in, they simply say "I knew something was up with her", and keep going! They could have helped her, but NOPE.

What about the teachers? These kids are in highschool. One of the kids actually gets lost on a school trip. No help from the school. No accountability, apparently and no concern. Some of these kids are losing their minds on school property. Those teachers just kept on with the lessons. Not even the other students help out these main girls or are even concerned. We're all just going to pretend like students are going crazy and missing?

Lastly, the police! Almost no police in this movie. No one questioned, no protection, no investigation. It's kinda like kids get screwed over so much in this town that the police have given up.

This all sounds like a lot bad writing ( and it is), but it also kinda adds to the fun. There will be those who will heavily downgrade this movie, because they are Slender Man lore purists, and apparently on that level this movie doesn't begin to measure up. Idk nothing about that, soooo I went in fresh, and enjoyed my new friend Slender Man. That's right, he's my buddy. I still say he's misunderstood. I mean, he IS out in the woods, and we DO see him coming after the kids, but what does that prove?. Maybe SM is a nicely dressed homeless man just trying to get by in the woods. Maybe these kids are just out in the woods doing shrooms (way to go, parents) and falling into holes never to be seen again. Live the Slender Man alone! The man doesn't have a face! - I'm sure his life is hard enough as it is.

Or maybe he's murdering kids out there, idk. You be the judge. Though I admit that certain pics you'll find on the internet aren't helping me prove his case.

Grade: B

Everyone who factored into this movie's 15% rating on RT are just haters. They're just jealous of my main man SM and his fly suits. They hatem cuz they ain't him.

Some of you might be saying, "But, Praphit, I'm sure this movie is aiight, but BlackkKlansman had those important social topics!"

I could argue that "Slender Man" does as well.

#1 - The black girl that her friends just kinda leave behind. I mean, seriously, what the hell? #blacklivesmatter

#2 - Lesbians - two of the friends in the group sure were close... like real close. Some may think I'm reading into things that aren't there, but I say these characters were forced to remain in the closet. But, maybe their parents found out... maybe that's why none of them are ever around. They couldn't bear that forbidden love. Apparently, The Slender Man does his thing around the bible belt.

#3 - Missing Kids! Not something I used to think about, but now whenever I go into a new town, I check to see how many kids go missing there and how often. If it's an alarming rate, I'm out! When SM is done with the kids he might start on the adults. Besides, if the cops are letting this many lost kids slide without an investigation, what else would they turn a blind eye to?

#4 Mental Illness - perhaps people we label as mentally ill are the ones in the know. Maybe we should all start listening a little more.

Y'all can come to me. I'm here for you. I'll listen. The next time you're out in the middle of the woods (because a stranger online told you to) and you notice a man with no face, wearing awesome suits, with trees growing out of his ass you can tell me. I'll listen and get you the help you need:)

[the-voice-of-hell]

Rent is Theft, part 19

Read from the beginning here, read the previous chapter here.  Note:  My MC is a Filipina trans woman and I am not.  If you have notes on that or anything else, hit me up.

                                                        ***

      In retrospect, it was a pretty big leap from my success with the allergy medicine to assuming I could make sorcery happen, but I did not hesitate or doubt what I was attempting to do.  My worry of it not working was less about a lack of faith in magic than a lack of confidence in my choices of method.  

But whatever those doubts, once I had my plan, I committed to it.

      I moved all the remaining furniture out of the living room except one tiny end table that would serve as my “wooden altar.”  I used bulk white chalk to create the magic circle, ladled with a little dustpan.  The prescribed seven foot diameter was just about the entire width of my little living room.  Inside that I used the bulk chalk to make an equilateral triangle about five feet per side.  I had put on a face mask and sprayed the surface of that geometry with a fixative I’d brewed up with a combination of research and guesswork.  It didn’t have to be permanent, just last long enough for some use, and I figured the high school technique of using hairspray to fix pastels on construction paper wasn’t going to work here.

      I leaned against my kitchenette to rest, observing the work.  Sloppy, but could be worse.  I went back at it, writing three symbols of Mercury inside the triangle in yellow chalk.  That had to be sidewalk chalk, so it was much more slow going.  The triangle called for “various symbols of Mercury” and the most I could find that seemed legit was the three - the caduceus, of course, with snakes entwining a winged rod; an astrological symbol that looked like Venus with horns; and the periodic table abbreviation Hg.  At the end I used my fixative again.

      That was the hard stuff, and took more than an hour to complete.  After that my room had a chemical smell, but I needed to eat, so I grabbed some string cheese, peanuts, and a bottle of wine to the bedroom.  Rest.  It had been a long morning and would be very easy to fall asleep, but I resisted.  I rolled the glass on my face, cool with condensation.

      I finished the whole bottle, just in case the drunkenness was an important ingredient.  Although when should I be doing that drinking?  Should I have done it before the chalk?  Later, right before midnight?  The bottle had me feeling chill, but not really drunk.  My tolerance was getting high.  Bad shit.

      There were two brushed steel racks holding spot lights for the walls, one on each side of the room.  I ran a string between them as taut as I could get it, and from that hung my St. Hubert bottle of mercury.  Along the rest of the line I used clothespins to hang rumpled blue-violet wolfsbane flowers.  At regular intervals around the outer circle, I placed glass olive oil bottles with their contents drained and replaced with candles - for the time remaining unlit.  On the island counter of the kitchenette, I reserved two places for my blood mixture and for the sulfur-beaverbutt-camphor mixture.  On the opposite side of the circle, out by the window, one of the olive oil candle bottles sat on the little side table with my three wands.

      Were they wands or switches?  They were meant for violence, at least per the book.  The previous night I’d tried to soften the business ends by sanding them and covering them with frayed twine.  I didn’t know how important it was for Knobby to get hit with the very specific woods involved, so it wasn’t perfect coverage.  It was surely going to sting.

      Not drunk enough.  I opened a box of wine in the fridge and poured a glass, then walked out to the living room.  “Evil spirits, your time is nigh!  I am a highly magical bitch!”  I drank the glass to the bottom, then threw it into the far corner of the room, where it broke against the window and lay in sparkling chunks.  I let my head dip, my eyes close.  “I am a highly magical b--”

      There was a knock at the door.  I answered, opening a comfortable crack for my floories.  “Hello guys.”

      Marcie asked, “Eh, are you drunk, honey?”

      “Whu-?  Oh.  Listen, I’m only a lil’ tipsy, and it’s for magical reasons.  I’m serious now.”

      Marcie and Mike had teamed up, and were at the door together.  Mike said, “So, we haven’t found Knobby.  Getting pretty bushed, gotta take a break.”

      “Want to come into my humble witch’s den?  There is no furniture in the living room now.”

      “That’s OK, Courtney.  We’ll go to my place, charge up my cellphone for a bit.”

      “Right on.  You know where Momi is lookin’?”

      “Last time we passed her she was on some floors downstairs.”

      “He won’t be down there,” I thought aloud.  “Thanks, guys.  I’m about ready in here.  I’ll see you later.”

      They left, I drank a bit of water and took a bathroom break, then went out to find Momi.  I still didn’t expect to find Knobby while I was at it, just wanted to be close to her again.  Out in the hall I heard the elevator.  I glanced that way to see Perry coming back from who knows where.  He didn’t acknowledge me, but gave the untended eyeballs in the hall corners a sad look.  I went into the stairwell.  I’ll clean up that crap for you when I get back, buddy.

      I found Momi walking around the eighth floor and smiled as I stumbled toward her.  She gave me a concerned look.  “Are you OK?  You’re drunk.”

      “I’m only a little drunk, and it’s not because I’m losing my nerve.  It’s for magical reasons.  Magical, I swear!”

      “Mmm, OK, I guess.”  She had clamped a strong hand on my shoulder to arrest my sloppy affection, so no hugging was to be had.  That said, her touch made me happy.  Her strength made me feel weak, in a good way.

      “So I was thinking, there’s nobody living on these floors right now, so we should just look upstairs.  Where the biddies are.”

      “Biddies?”

      “The old ladies that are complaining about our dogboy.”

      “Heheh.  I guess a werewolf is just a dogboy, expecially if he’s a teenager.”

      “Shit, you’re so cute.  That’s why I act funny, so I can see you smile.”  I tried to get my paws on her, but she still held me back.  “Weh.  What can I do, baby?”  I gave up and clasped my hands together in a prayer to my goddess, probably giving off Peter Lorre Mad Love vibes.

      “We should go.  You aren’t wearing your allergy medicine.”  She pointed at the carpet.

      I looked down.  She had the pill amulet on and the floor around her sneakers was fine.  The carpet under my feet was puffing and pinkish, starting to glisten.  “Oh Christ.”

                                                        ***

      We got my amulet and took the elevator to the top floor, which again had a different layout from our floor.  There were still a few small apartments available, but the spacing of the doors suggested large penthouse suites.  I remembered how much those cost from the listings when I moved in.  It made me wanna knock the top off the fucking building.       The hall there was designed to admit a maximum of sunlight and had much more powerful indoor lighting as well, keeping it bathed in an overwhelming glow.  Having never seen that hall before, I felt like an escapee from Plato’s cave, about to get shot by the guards and chucked back into the underground.

      But from the brief visit I knew the day was rapidly diminishing.  If we couldn’t turn up Knobby, this full moon might be a bust.  Still, if we couldn’t turn up Knobby, it also meant I could just spend my night loving my girlfriend, which was much more pressing in my mind just then.

      We entered the stairwell, ready to go floor to floor again.  A few steps in and I tripped, about to fall hard and break apart like dry kindling.  Momi grabbed me and held me still on the stairs.  One of my ankles was slightly twisted, my feet were on different steps, my hips twisted in place.  I untangled them and set my feet carefully in place on the closer step.

      When she spoke her lips were right by my ear.  I could feel her breath on me.  “Courtney!  Be careful!  Holy Jesus.”

      “You better hold me just a little longer, I’m not... quite...”  No, I was totally set.  I just loved the feeling, squished against her soft body in her big arms, though my head wrap was probably whacking her in the eyes.  “OK, I’m good.”  I held the rail this time.  I moved slow to trick her into going down side by side with me, then I matched her pace.

      “You ready to wrestle a dogboy?,” I asked.

      “You think he will fight me?”

      “I guess he might come if we ask nice.  If we say we have doggy biscuits.”

      “Good.  I don’t want to hurt him.”

      “Yeah...  So if this works, maybe we can do exorcisms on our heads, y’know?  Unsquirrel your hair.  What would you do with your hair, if you could control it again?”

      We opened the door and looked into the hall of the next floor down.  No Knobby.

      “Ooh, I don’t know.  What would look pretty?”

      “Anything on you, baby.  Maybe just to show your hair who’s boss you could do some crazy punk rock ’do.  Like a big bright red and pink mohawk with leopard spotted buzz on one side and green and purple liberty spikes on the other.”

      “Oh my god, that would be so weird.”

      “Braided pigtails.”

      “I tried that before.  It takes too long, and it hurts.”

      “Trim the sides and back, do a big pompadour.”

      “Like Janelle Monáe?  She can only do that because she’s skinny and pretty.”

      I opened the door to the next floor down and peeked in.  Nothing.  “Uggh, come on, babe.  You can do whatever you want.  And we’re just daydreaming here, right?  Wildest dreams, silly time.  What would you do?”

      “I don’t know.”

      “I’m gonna bleach your ends white and dye them bright fuchsia.  How you like that?”

      “I guess I don’t mind.”

      “Oh you don’t mind, huh?  What else could I do to you, that you’d just sit there and tolerate?”

      “Courtney, do you really wanna know how far you can push, before I put you in a dumpster?”

      “Augh!  Oh no, baby, I sure don’t!”

      “It’s OK.  I wouldn’t put you in a dumpster.”

      “So can I paint your face like a clown?”

      “What?  Why would you wanna do that?”

      “Not a scary clown, Momi.”  I looked in on another empty floor.  “Like a cute clown.”

      “Do you wanna have sex with a clown?”

      “Never thought about it.  Might be fun.”

      “I would sit and tolerate that.”

      “Whoa.  Kinky.  But it wouldn’t be fun if you were a total pillow princess about it.  You’d have to do something clowny.  Like, uh, slap me with a toy fish or something.”

      “I could tolerate that.”

      “That’s just... fucking amazing.  What should I do with this newfound sex power I have?  To get you to do weird stuff.”

      “Hehehe.”

      “That sounds like carte blanche to me.  I’m gonna go mad with power.”

      We looked in on another floor.  Some young dude was walking into his apartment and stopped a moment when he noticed us.  We acknowledged each other with little nods and he went on.  We continued our descent.

                                                        ***

      Marcie reached Richie on her cell, Richie was getting sporadic texts from Olivia, and supposedly the kids were going to come back home before midnight.  Word was that they had found Knobby’s deformity pretty useful for garnering sympathy while panhandling, were trying to make the most of it.

      I had my doubts but through the phone game we found out there were too many possible spots they were using, and they changed spots several times per day, so hunting them down would be a huge pain.  We settled in to wait for them.

      When Graeme came home at eight, he said he’d met Patrick in the hall, and Patrick told him the biddies were at it again - claiming that very afternoon someone had seen a large dog in the hall, urinating this time.  I went floor to floor, looking for the spot, and found it on the fourteenth floor.  When had he slipped by us?

      Marcie got worn out, while Mike seemed more energetic as the night went on, so we let him do some searching by himself - on the condition that he keep his green ass out of sight.  Around ten, Patrick reported back that he’d seen the werewolf, but it got away.  He had barely seen it, only had another deuce it had left in the hall to confirm his suspicions of what the hustling figure had been.

      In response to that, we had Richie text Olivia again.  She got back to say she and Knobby were almost home.  I found that too vexing to really consider.  I shushed Richie when he started following that train of thought to its obvious conclusion.

      Olivia and Knobby took the elevator up and were immediately grabbed up by Patrick and swept into my apartment.  That can’t have been very comforting, but they seemed genially clueless when brought before their queen.

      “Hello kids,” I said.  “This is a bit of a surprise party for you, Knobby.”

      He beamed nervously.  His smile was huge and white for a homeless kid.  I think at some point he had said his dad was a dentist.  “Wha-a-a-at?  Really?  Look like...”  He lost his train of thought as his eyes took in the whole scene - the chalk circle, the single chair in the center of the room over the hermetic symbols.

      Olivia asked, “What the fuck is this shit?”

      By now we had Momi, Richie, Deandre, Graeme, and Patrick in the room.  Graeme looked ready to step in and be politic, but it was my show.  I answered, “It’s nothing bad.  Olivia, how hard are you holding your neck down right now?  You notice we’re all having problems like that?”

      “What’s it got to do with-”

      “What’s it got to do with me?,” Knobby said.

      “This seems like it’s the building’s way of trying to get us caught.  Somebody in particular has been turning into a dog and causing a scene around our neighbors.  We have to stop it.”

      “Oh no,” Olivia said, “They’re gonna kill you!”

      I rolled my eyes and showed them both palms.  “No sacrificial dagger here, kids.  Come on.”

      Knobby went back on his haunches in a truly dog-like fashion, cringing in fear.  “Oh no!”

      “We’re not even going to hurt you, seriously!  I came up with this magic spell.  We have to spank you with those wands and pour some gross magic sauce on you, but you’ll be fine!  Not even a bruise.”

      He clung to her thigh pathetically.  Suddenly her head turned completely upside down, her neck escaping the collar of her unseasonably heavy jacket.  She scrambled to sort herself out, push the neck back in.  “Ugh!”

      “We have to do it guys.  I’ll let you use my shower to clean up after, OK?  Just, please, cooperate?”

      “I don’t wanna,” he whimpered.

      Richie said, “When has she ever hurt us guys?  If Courtney says you’re going to be OK, you’re going to be OK.  Chill, bro.”

      “If this works,” Graeme said, “We’re all going to do it, to cure our problems.  My red hands, Olivia’s neck, Mike’s green skin...”

      Olivia settled her head down, buttoned the jacket collar to hold her neck in again.  “Mmm, I dunno...”

      Knobby finally let go of her leg, tried to prop himself up to a standing position - still a deep crouch.  “I guess if everyone is gonna do it, I don’t like having to creep around like this.  You swear it won’t hurt?”

      “It might hurt a tiny bit.”  I pointed to the table with the wands.  “We’re going to smack you with those sticks a few times, but just a few times, right?  Then I’m going to pour this gross stuff on you - some reheated pig blood and a magic potion.  Both have to be pretty hot, but they won’t be boiling, OK?”

      “Oh God, that’s gross,” he muttered, but he wasn’t trying to get away anymore.

      “I’m glad you’re helping out, because the ritual says we’re supposed to tie you up, and I don’t wanna hafta do that.  We care about you guys.”

      “Speak for your damn selfs,” Perry said, as Marcie brought him into the room.

      “Be nice, Perry,” Marcie said.

      “I don’t know you,” he groaned.

      Patrick took him by the arm off to the far side of the circle.

      I looked to Marcie.  “Only missing Mike now.”

      “He was so rambunctious, wanted to keep looking.  I haven’t had a chance to let him know we found Knobby already, and he doesn’t have a cellphone.”

      “We’ll do this without him if we have to, but I really want everybody to be here.  One, just so everybody knows what we’re all doing - so nobody gets any wrong ideas or loses trust.  And two, I feel like the spell is more likely to work if we’re all in attendance.”

      Grime said, “I sit on my ass all day at work.  I could use the workout.  Anybody else feel rested enough to go bring Mike back?”

      Deandre said, “My feet are tore up.”

      Almost everybody had done a ton of walking around town, or at work, or upstairs and down.

      Richie said, “I’m kinda beat, but it’s important.  I’ll help out.”

     “Alright,” said Grime.  “If we do this logically, there’s no way he can get past us.  I say we have one of us in each stairwell, right..?”  He kept splaining as they went out the door.

      I addressed the rest of the floories.  “OK, you’re all guests here!  It’s a while before midnight, so head on into my bedroom.  I have a selection of comfy seats, I’ll bring in beverages - just watch out for the chalk.  Thanks Patrick, just step over... OK, there you go.”

      They all went in to relax.  I had some bowls of chex mix for the occasion, the kind with bugles and cheez-its.  Hopefully nobody had food allergies or was vegan.  I came back with a box of wine, a sleeve of red disposable cups, and a big jug of cheap fruit punch.

      “Alright, here’s the stuff.  Anybody want anything else?  I can slice some cheese, got some donuts but they might be a bit stale.”

      A few people availed themselves of that hospitality, others started chatting, and a few minutes later I was able to settle in beside Leimomi.  She smiled weakly at me, then we both did the same to Olivia and Knobby, who were sitting across from us.  I realized too late that was probably in creepy unison, and had a dark chuckle.  Knobby laughed nervously, Olivia did not.

      “I’m really hoping this works, guys, and if it doesn’t, the worst that happened is we wasted our time and Knobby had to take a shower.  OK?”

      “I got ya, I got ya,” he said.

      “It’ll be great to get out of these stupid head wraps.  Momi and I are looking like fake Erykah Badus.”

      “Who’s that?,” Olivia asked.

                                                        ***

   Read next chapter here.

[transbcyfriend]

—  TAGGED BY: @transtokitou !

— RULES: answer 21 questions and tag 21people.

1. nickname: vince, vinny, vin, and vee! anything that sounds remotely similar to my whole name jfhfjdjdh

2. zodiac: aries sun, aries moon, pisces rising!

3. height: 5'0" and i hate it

4. hogwarts house: hufflepuff iirc? i'm not rlly into harry potter the last time i did the quiz i was in high school so kfbfbdjdb

5. last thing I googled: “do you have any in the back no can you check yeah sure hold on comic" (i didn't find what i was looking for)

6. favorite musicians: the front bottoms are a Big Favorite (to the point i know almost every song off their entire discography by heart), but hozier and queen are also big faves! grandson is quickly becoming a favorite too tho

7. song stuck in my head: rhode island - the front bottoms

8. following: 254!

9. followers: 193!

10. do you get asks: not really! i wish i got more asks but if ppl are shy then i won't force anyone to jdbdjdjd

11. amount of sleep: anywhere from 4 - 9 hrs. today i got 10 but that was only bc i worked a 9 hr shift yesterday until 2a fhdjdjdhdb

12. what are you wearing: a skeleton kigu ngl

13. dream job: idk, something artsy -- i was going for an art degree before, but i don't want the life sucked out of my work from doing it as a job, so i think maybe interior design (cause i can go fuckin hog for 8 hours in the sims and do nitty gritty details all damn day to the point it looks lived in), but idk. who fuckin knows, maybe botany with how much i already know abt plants

14. dream trip: i rlly wanna go to wales, or like. ireland or scotland or smthn. my deepest roots are in wales tho so that's why i list that one First but. idk, it's green, it seems like it'd b fun, why not

15. instruments: piano but i haven't played it in a while bc there's no room for it in the house jfhfjfjfhd

16. languages: english, lil bit of french, and idk if this counts but a lil bit of asl

17. 10 favorite songs as of now: aw shit. uhhh...in no particular order, checkmate by conan grey / die young by grandson / flashlight by the front bottoms / i wanna get better by bleachers / like real people do by hozier / nina cried power by hozier / sing to me by missio / talk by hozier / west virginia by the front bottoms / wolfman by the front bottoms

18. if you were an animal: a dog, hands down. definitely a bigger breed, prolly with stuck-up ears, but no particular name in mind. jus Big Dog

19. favorite food: ok so the name of the sandwich is called the governor, but bc the place that sells it is all the way in arkansas, i make my own rendition of it. basically jus take rlly juicy chicken breast, lettuce, tomato, cheese, avocado spread (mixed w/ red pepper flakes, garlic, onion, salt, and pepper), and just a little tiny bit of strawberry preserves on both sides of toasted bread, and that's it. it might sound gross but it's SO fucking good

20. random fact: i'm afraid of roller coasters (the big ones at least). on god. i think it's bc of a fear of falling mixed w/ the sensation of falling makes my brain wig the fuck out but yeah lmao you can't pay me to get on one of those damn things

21. my aesthetic: cottagecore, but also punk! fresh picked flowers and handmade strawberry jam, wooden frame furniture, cooking utensils sticking out of a vintage pitcher, blankets piled up on top of each other worn n frayed at the edges from use.....that's rlly good, however, i Also like the punk aesthetic of spikes in jackets, combat boots, masks, leather gloves, a denim jacket covered in hand-sewn patches, that's also rlly good.

—  TAGGING: idk who to tag so if u wanna do this go hog! steal it from me if u wanna these are fun