#this comic would only work on this platform
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Chang's Muse
#fanart#comic#tintin#adventures of tintin#chang#snowy#milou#tinchang#photoset#thought id play around with formats!#this comic would only work on this platform#i love painting black and white photographs#i have a lot of annual leave booked so i thought id indulge in something shippy and silly#this exchange takes place after st benezets basement#when the dog knows what's up but these two idiots do not#im posting so much because i have time and i dont wanna go out and spend money :(
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2024 reads / storygraph
Outdrawn
f/f contemporary romance
two cartoonist whoâve been rivals since uni, and now have competing webcomics online, have to work together on the relaunch of a cult classic at the comic press they both work at
they both struggle with art-related physical and mental health issues, and complicated families
#outdrawn#aroaessidhe 2024 reads#sapphic books#I thought this was decent! I liked the concept (even if I got distracted by some art related thingsâŠ)#and the dynamic between the characters was good. I enjoyed their relationship development broadly speaking#and the emphasis on communication; though it was a quick flip into being together all of a sudden.#The sketchbook doodle flirting was cute. Some interesting exploration of their complicated family situations too.#Thereâs a lot of exploration of burnout and carpal tunnel and the dangers of artists overworking which I think are important conversations#and are done with some nuance. But itâs pretty much all discussed in the context of the personal pressure they put on themselves#rather than the industry corporate greed and artificial competition created by the comic platform - which are significant in this story!#It felt odd that that connection wasnât really ever made?#I know that this is a romance and nitpicking the background plot is beside the point and also that I am not a big romance reader#but the premise that the comic hosting site archives everything; wipes the leaderboard; and out of nowhere has a comic competition for#new weekly chaptersâŠIâm sorry but the art world would riot. Even if people enter because theyâre desperate for the cash theyâd be pissed#People live off the income from their webcomics! if they were erased (temporarily) with no noticeâŠ..there would be crimes committed istg#I simply donât believe that it would be doable to create a new weekly webcomic with no notice while you also have a full-time comic job#(especially as the only stylistic choices mentioned are full-colour) - not to mention what happened to their 8-years-running webcomics#that were archived? they donât think about them at all after the beginning? surely theyâd care about that?#And then with their new comics they make for this competition (after work I guess) we get vague snippets about them but barely anything#- if theyâre consuming that much of your time I would expect to feel like theyâre thinking about them all the time#rather than the vaguest discussion about genre and cast numbers only.#I guess I just think the whole comic site stunt felt unnecessary for the plot anyway -#it would have worked exactly the same if they were just competing on the normal leaderboard with their normal comics???#anyway - Iâm not judging TOO hard about all that because again I know itâs not the point and maybe the industry is like that in some place#Unfortunately it was distracting enough to affect my feelings on the book tho lol.#Lastly: the audiobookâŠâŠâŠoof. The narrators talk at different speeds; for one.#And Sageâs VA does this deeply weird raspy-anime-teen-boy voice for Noah which is such an odd choice#and doesnât match her character at all.#unforch my library only had the audiobook (what I usually prefer) so I just had to sort ofâŠ.translate the narration into a normal voice lol#anyway the romance is good tho
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thinkin bout doin real quick ink comms for a bit to get more practice in with the pens. would u guys care for something like that? it'd be like. waist-up character comms. $10 per slot, same price as a sketch comm
#bakuspeech#and well. I do also have to eat n stuff lol. while I'm working in this comic#the motivacheans are manyfold#but yeah just kinda. throwin this one out there as an interest gathering thing#gotta figure out the payment stuff too... I could go thru kofi again but its hard to slot gate that#and its hard to link the names together across platforms#paypal would have that same last problem. man I wish I could have a purchase button with like. stocks#so I could set it at only 3 available or something. and then I can contact the buyers after theyve clicked#hm. I'll figure that one out! u guys just lemme know if u like. care for this shdkdh#thats the vibe of today. I gotta go now. to look at tables n such#have a good day!! summer soon!!!
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LMAO ok a little backstory. i got hollow knight for my brother for christmas but somehow failed to notice it didnt have a little redemption code on the back of the card (or it got lost Somewhere in between me buying it and wrapping it up). anyways
i ordered him a replacement LITERALLY christmas day and it finally arrived and i just got a message w a picture and all he said was "you punk" JKHGJKDFGHDK like OOPS did i do that!!! teehee.
#he was so excited at first like YEAH I WANTED THIS GAME! and up until that point i felt SO BAD that that was the only thing i was getting#him for christmas but like he sent our mom the two other things he wanted so. wtf. JKGHDFK#but then he mentioned the code thing being missing and i was like....... back to feeling abd again KJGDHGKD#but like no when i dont know what to get him i always default to a video game. i KNOW what kind of games he likes#indie games. platforming games. stuff like that. and it has not let me down yet :)#literally when he was talking ab that and telling our mom it wasnt there (bc she decided she would look for it too) i handed my phone to#amanda (his gf) and was like pssst hey can u input u guys's address for me please.............. im rebuying the game for him...............#but this works double well since the new ta/z comic comes out sometime this year (this month even? i think?) i can just send it to him#directly instead of waiting until his birthday which is in august >:)
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Oh.
To call WT's actions "antics" would be reducing the severity of what they're doing to creators. This is unacceptable behavior and it should be all the more reason for creators to start exploring other career paths outside of WT. For years they've been meticulously crafting an environment where people believe that WT is the only path to success, where WT controls the degree of success creators can achieve, from the manipulation of the promotional system to the lack of tagging and proper search functions on the app. Now that they've boiled the frog to this point, they're cashing out by flooding the platform with cheap imports, implementing AI tools, and of course, trying to use their contracts as a way to trap creators and keep them from owning their own IP's and maximizing on their own success.
I said it before and I'll say it again - Webtoons is planning to go public with their IPO this summer, so it would be a real shame if creators spoke up about the underhanded tactics used by WT to keep them from finding success in their own works. At the very least, it should serve as a reminder to all of us that companies like these can't amass billions without exploiting people along the way.
We can't even use "they're creating jobs for comic creators" as a reason to want to see WT succeed in spite of their flaws anymore because they're literally ruining people's careers, cutting them off before they've even started. That's not the platform being "flawed", that's the platform and the system it's built on being broken, full stop.
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What do you think the chances are that Mud Pit is gonna be ousted by the people who need Automattic to have good will in the eyes of the community to actually get anything out of this site and wattpad
I know itâs probably low but the fact that heâs acting like a poorer Elon Musk is making my skin crawl and making me hope that a second lawsuit hits the company
ok here's the thing. he is meant to be on sabbatical. automattic gives employees a three-month paid sabbatical every 5 years, so that they can have a break from the product they work on and come back rested and with a new perspective.
matt has never taken one before now. he spent the entire leadup to his sabbatical posting increasingly wild shit in public channels at the company (like the chess thing, or trying to get people to buy a friend's product, or the entire fracas with taking over the wordpress.org twitter account. wordpress.org is an independent non-profit that he is not the ceo of).
i mention this because people were hoping (including me) that he really would actually log off, have a chill time (or, idk, whatever kind of time CEOs who go off the grid bc they got flooded in at burning man like to have), and let the interim CEO get a chance to do a better job. that would help the board make a decision based on data.
he was very clearly spiraling before he even left, and then within the first few days of Company Sanctioned Log Off Time he's pulled multiple Classic Matt things on multiple parts of the company before showing up here. this whole thing is so deeply unfunny but it also is a bit of a tom and jerry or looney tunes bit, where i can only imagine HR or Legal is chasing him around the various accounts/platforms with a comically large inflatable baseball bat and he's just evading them.
he can't do that in person, but he still gets a lot of leeway generally. at the last division meetup (irl meeting for employees, flown from all over the world) he showed up twitchy and exhausted and hyped in a way that was very familiar to me from flatmates who used to steal and snort my adhd medication, then proceeded to drink so much over the course of an evening answering questions from his employees that he had to be firmly babysat off the stage and walked back into the lobby of the hotel to sober up.
i made eye contact with him that night, before he dropped his head back into his hands. two people relatively high up in the company were sitting with him, silently watching him as he struggled to sober up. it wasn't the first drunk shenanigan of his i witnessed at one of these, and this is purely opinion but i have to assume that his current behavior is the result of suddenly having time on his hands to have the world's longest bender and post through it.
back to your question: i do not know if what he's done is enough to get the board to remove him. i wish it didn't have to come to this to hope that they will. but we'll find out.
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I'm so excited you're taking requests for Rupert Campbell-Black!!
Do you think you could maybe fo #15 from your prompt list about him showing up for the reader bc they don't have anyone else?
Idk if just love that trope and I think it works with him.
If you don't feel inspired by that one no worries!
Someone in the crowd
prompt15 Rupert Campbell Black x fem!reader
word count: 5.3k+
warnings: parental neglect, mild swearing, hurt comfort, FLUFF
AN: Ahhhhhhh ANON I love you this is my fav prompt I was initially planning on the same one anyways thanks for platform ing my Rupert obsession youâre the first one
The chronicles of the country side for a veterinary sciences PhD student included more than just animals, main reason she selected a university so far from the hustle and bustle of the city. Peculiar animals in their natural state, she came across more than just peculiar animals.
Trespassing loses its meaning for the engrossed researcher, she didnât realise when she passed the forest to a private estate land whilst following the slow worm. The most advanced high end camera, that Rupert had only seen with those media folks and proper film production. However he assumed the girl in a camouflage jungle vest to be an intern in a tabloid firm, trying to prove herself to be ever so efficient to her superiors by sneaking in to his property for a few pictures. Too naive to realise he could sue her for all her fortune perhaps. Rather an amateur at her job perhaps, she was there to snap him yet her attention didnât avert to him on his horse before he approached her himself, âYoung ladyâ he cleared his throat sternly âYou do realise youâre trespassing here?â
âOh?â She looked out of her camera lens to the voice that called out her and in an instant she lost sight of the slow worm she was following. âFuck!â
âAnd if you donât delete the pictures and get off of this land right this second I will be suing you for all the jobs you donât already have.â Rupert threatened, he truly misliked this breach of his privacy to no end. But because the girl seemed unskilled and gullible to her supposedly first job he felt he could let her get off easily.
âIâm not deleting any pictures I barely got twoâ she said with a heavy sigh, her eyes frantically searching for her subject within the grass again not too bothered by his threat. âAnd I donât have any job as it isâ
âOhâ he amused, getting off of the saddle of his horse to level with her, âare you one of those fans then? How many times do I have to tell you people-â
âWhat?â Her attention broke from her subjected reptile to the man this time, âa fan? I donât even know youâŠâ
âOh rightâ he scoffed placing his hands by his hips, âsurely you donât.â
âI truly donât. I was following my subject for today from the forest lands and I ended up here it was an honest mistakeâ she explained herself as she opened her camera to show him the pictures, they were all reptiles and notâŠhim.
âYou were following a snake?â He asked rather confused and somewhat intrigued as to what would bring her to this.
âItâs not a snake, itâs a is a legless lizard. Anguis Fragilisâ she corrected the man, ever so casually as if it were the most common of knowledges to attain.
The man just burst into laughter letting go of the horse chain to contain it, his hand on his chest he could find the joke in the name and the scenario extremely comical. âYou have got to be kidding me!â
Y/n felt a bit embarrassed as if sheâd said the wrong name so she went through it in her head again and she wasnât, wrong. It was perhaps like college again, info dumping on the wrong set of people who poke fun at peculiar passions. But the man seemed to be too old to be like those immature college kids who mock others so she was left rather confused âwhat is so funny?â She asked hesitantly, âitâs rather rare and native to this area we donât come across them in the cityâŠâ she trailed off trying to fill in his boastful laughter with something to feel less uncomfortable.
âOh is it now?â Rupert asked as his laughter subsided and he realised the girl was an enthusiast in a true fashion. He just found the name of the godforsaken reptile to have a double meaning to it, he thought she made it up but when she got awkward and explained further he realised she wasnât joking. âMy apologies, are you new here?â
âYes Ive actually moved here for research, Iâm studying veterinary sciences for PhD⊠â she said still feeling a bit self conscious after heâd laughed like that.
âAnus Fragilis huh?â He repeated trying his best to suppress another set of laughter but he failed at it ever so evidently.
âAnguisâŠer-slow worm.â She cringed as she picked up on the joke that had him loosing his composure like that. Perhaps she judged him to act his age which he looked so fast. âItâs also called slow worm. I lost him regardless, so Iâll get going. Sorry to bother you.â
âNo, no hang on a second darlingâ he said gripping her elbow as she attempted to leave but as she returned to face him again he left it just instantly. âSince youâre already here, allow me to indulge you in a coffee or so? It would be very disappointing if I donât get to learn more aboutâŠâ he wanted to say it, the joke. But the awkwardly offended look on her face of feeling small wasnât worth it so he kept it to himself âslow worms and legless lizardsâ
âTheyâre the same.â She briefed him feeling his ignorance, the PhD aspirant did not seem to have time to entertain his indulgence. âForgive me but I have to go, Iâve walked too far from my car.â
âWell then allow me to drop you?â Rupert offered with his usual charm which didnât leave to phase a lot.
Not her perhaps, âItâs not that farâ she said curtly. Packing her camera equipment in a hurry. âThanks. And sorry for trespassing.â
Rupert watched as she hastily packed her lenses and the rolls. Just when he thought he could work on himself to not offend people on first impressions, he generally didnât do so with ladies so perhaps this was a first. âIâm Rupert Campbell Blackâ He put his hand forward for a handshake, âSports Minister.â He introduced himself.
She had both her hands full with her books and camera, which she could rearrange back in the bag to accept his handshake but sheâd rather not so she just nodded shortly. âYes, Mr. Rupert, so nice to meet you.â She said with half a smile, then paced away not even waiting for his reply.
âI suppose Iâll see you around?â He said with his usual grin but she was already pacing away back to the path sheâd come from.
That is how the two first met. Not her most memorable nor pleasant interaction but surely intriguing for the minister. The next time he met her, late early evening at a cafe. It took a second to recognise her with her head down in a book but there was enough lighting cast on her against the window where she sat. âSlow worm!â He exclaimed as he approached her causing her to avert her attention from the book to him.
âYouâŠâ she trailed off however her tone didnât match the same enthusiasm as his. âHi.â She said as he gestured to the chair across her on her table, asking if someone was there but she shrugged and nodded âPlease, go aheadâ she said being polite, internally bracing herself for another awful interaction.
âI was hoping Iâd run into youâ he told her leaning forward on the table crossing his arms, âturns out, your little bugger is a frequent visitor of the stable sheds back at the estate.â
âThat explains yeahâ she nodded closing her book, the size of it gigantic and hardcover it made a small thud, âit eats slugs and snails, spiders tooâŠâ
âWonderful aspectâ Rupert complimented, under informed on the subject he didnât know what to say. âDid you get proper observations for your research?â
âSuperficially yesâ she nodded, âIâll run into more of those one of these days.â
âYou can always just visit my place againâŠI would be honoured to help out a bright mind.â Rupert offered leaning back in the chair, unbuttoning his blazer.
âThat is so kind of you, Iâm very sorry for trespassing that dayâ she said it again, obviously not friendly enough with him to take him up on that offer.
âWell you could make up for it by telling me your name.â He shrugged as his lips formulated a smile.
âY/n.â She told him. As the conversation progressed, learning more of him, telling him more about her research and the subjects sheâd come across so far. For someone in a vastly different field he was such an attentive listener. Sheâd told him a lot, about the animals, her thesis, her lectures and sessions, being a TA, moving here.
âAnd what of your friends?â He asked her over his second cup of coffee in the same conversation because he wanted to keep it going.
âI donât live on campus so I donât have roommates to be friends with, then Iâm a TA but everyone else is a bachelors and third year student. Had I done college here Iâd have those friendsâŠI do have friends from college back home but as of now itâs only my professors.â She informed him, very casual with it but as she formulated the picture in his head it seemed to be a rather isolating experience.
âAnd what do you do for fun around here?â He asked her to see if it was as isolating as he realised.
âTrespass estates.â She joked with a small giggle, but in truth she did absolutely nothing for fun because there wasnât anything.
âGreatest hobby everâ he joked back. But as she didnât follow up with another activity he realised that if he pried about it heâd just force her to admit she led a boring and somewhat lonely life. He wasnât judging her, she was fresh out of college and had to move a whole place and seemed to have no friends here. Well except for him if sheâll have him. âAre you struggling?â
âOf course not. I love my work, I can easily afford rent too itâs not a problem.â She replied honestly, if only financial was all of her struggles.
âDonât you think youâd save more if you lived on campus?â He questioned unsure of her choice to stay in a boutique flat in one of the most expensive neighbourhoods.
âMy father wouldnât allow it. Heâs a bit of a tone deaf classist that way.â She admitted, rather casually.
âAllow?â He repeated, surprised. He didnât know her precise age but by her educational status and the looks of it someone in their early twenties didnât need their fatherâs permission on how to live.
âItâs just a bit complicated, he wants all of his children to take the right step that is work in our family business, his company. I tried, itâs soul draining and very unlike meâ she sighed âSo I just extended education.â
âTo get far from him?â He perceived, perhaps not the way she saw it.
ââTo explore my options. I donât want to disappoint him when I can avoid it.â
âAnd is this the way to be?â He asked, his tone guarded and expression curious.
âPerhaps.â She replied, but on the inside she was so hyper aware that anywhere farther from the family business as all the way to be. She didnât want to distanced from her father nor her family, she may not be the golden child but she wanted him to be ever so proud of her even though she didnât walk on the road he chose for her.
âYour spirit likes the fight doesnât it?â It was more of an observation than a question.
âI donât indulge in self awareness that wellâ She replied with a bemused shrug and he just let out a low laugh that. And that was her first friendship in Rutshire. To Rupertâs likeness the cafe was another one of basilâs side quests but he visited there less frequently given the bar was his primary. Regardless, Rupert got him too. The prime customer and his newest friend, studied there most of the time because she lived close by and Rupert felt drawn to her company.
She had no other and he found her growing to be his favourite one. He fancied the conversations with her so much, in her absence basil teased him about it. This one afternoon, Rupert visited as his usual time, or perhaps y/nâs usual time which he picked up on but she wasnât there. âThe coffee canât be that good.â Basil said with a small scoff, as he found Rupert with a disappointed expression in the girlâs absence.
âIâm just trying to reduce the alcohol intakeâ Rupert said nonchalantly, well aware he didnât the caffeine heâd been consuming just for the conversations with her.
âI wasnât talking about the coffeeâ Basil added with a devious grin hinting at the double meaning joke he was referring for.
âPiss offâ Rupert rolled his eyes at the man with a heavy sigh of irritation sitting down at the table, rolling up his sleeves and facepalming. âThis is her usual time to come and study hereâ he mentioned.
âWhich you donât let her do.â Basil said, the entire time indulging the poor girl in conversations and spontaneous outing plans. âSheâd have to be extraordinarily brilliant to keep up with her courseworks with all the detours you put her up to.â
âShe is extraordinarily brilliant.â Rupert briefed him.
âI suppose youâd know.â Basil shrugged leaning against the table where he was sat, âDoes she have a boyfriend?â
Seemingly offended at the mere thought of that Rupertâs expression disgusted, âOf course not!â
âOf course not?â Basil repeated surprised with his affirm expression. âSo you are sleeping with her.â
âIâm not sleeping with her.â Rupert emphasised on the word ânotâ and it was probably the tenth time that Bas had asked him that this moment.
âOf course notâ Basil humoured him mimicking his tone when he said that.
âIâm not, it isnât like that with her.â Rupert tried to explain that to his friend who found that to be such a foreign concept. It was a very strangely unknown and unspecific feeling for Rupert himself too.
âYou donât want to sleep with her?â Bas questioned not believing nor understanding the prospect âsheâs rather pretty.â besides heâd sleep with anything.
âShe isnât just pretty Bas, sheâs beautiful, a bit too much even on the inside.â He paused âShe is precious.â Rupert spoke with such genuine passion that basil had to lay off of the joke he was brewing.
âAnd what of you?â Basil asked, it was something Rupert hadnât even questioned himself for well not yet anyways.
âWhat of me?â He answered the question with a question feigning innocence. Before basil could further explain himself, even though well aware that Rupert understood him. The bells of the door jingled announcing upcoming presence in the nearly empty cafe causing the men to turn at the voice.
âHello-Hello, Gentlemen!â Y/n exclaimed in the most enthusiastic Sunday morning tone possible but it was a cloudy afternoon on a Tuesday. To Rupert she always sounded like a Sunday morning with her little giggles and all the mannerisms but today she seemed way more lifted with spirits.
âWant to bet a tenner she ran into a coyote.â Basil said as she made her way to their table sitting across Rupert whilst basil was still leaning against the table.
âI bet you a twenty its a pine marten.â Rupert said, he picked up on everything from their conversation. This week she was in search of that specific animal from her list or so, he kept track somewhat subconsciously.
âItâs neitherâ She said with a smile still plastered on her face as she sat her bag down to the side placing her hands on the table. âIâve got great news, well not great but perhaps good, great to me.â She went in an adjective discourse and shook her head coming back on track âMy professor submitted my thesis to this government honorary publications department and Iâm getting an in-kind research grant!â
âThe government is giving you money?!â Basil matched her enthusiastic tone leaning forward on the table.
âNo, no itâs an in kind grantâŠas in-they present me with an award but the big thing is that I get policy access, lab space, government authorised datasetsâŠâ she explained further with her eyes so lit up Rupert wanted to bottle this warmth of emotions he felt in just seeing her happy like this and drink it like water.
âYou are getting an award?!â Rupert said with loud earnest passion for her excelling. âY/n! That is marvellous news!â
âYou fucking genius!â Basil added further, giving her a side hug and kissing the top of her head, giving her hair a ruffle as he walked across the cafe, âthis calls for a celebration!â
âThank youâ She replied with a toothy smile. Feeling very heart warmed. Then Rupert took both her hands in his, he looked just as lit up as if it was his award.
âMy darling, you absolute mastermind. Your mind is a wonder, y/n I am so so proud of you!â He said, he didnât have to reaffirm or reassure more so because out of everyone sheâd come across, Rupert had been so supportive, a subject and felt so unfamiliar yet heâd reassured and let her know it so constantly that sheâd always have him to be cheering so hard for her. âYou deserved this!â
âRupert, that is so kind! Thank you, seriouslyâ she replied with a glint in her eyes he could feel coloured by. Just about on time, basil blasted the confetti cracker he happened to have lying around. He turned the open sign to closed at the door of the cafe and returned to the table, slowly she let her hands out of Rupertâs.
âDidnât have champagne in the cafe but this should doâ Basil said as he presented their table with a small cake.
âYou didnât have to close the placeâ y/n said with a small giggle as she saw the cake, a sign in red jam crossing out the name âEinsteinâ and Y/n in its place. Classic Bas.
âOh please love, I deserve this celebration.â Bas said with a dramatic roll of his eyes, any reason to not work was reason enough.
âRight of course since he worked so hard.â Rupert joked clearly forgetting he owed the man in staying the cafe for him to keep it open just in case y/n might come in. They kept congratulating her over and over again as the trio dug into the cake.
âSo when exactly is the award function?â Rupert asked, it was going to be event of the week for him more than it was for y/n.
âItâs on this Friday, I get one visitor pass and my father is flying out to attend it!â She said, ebullient. It did irk him somewhat because heâd wanted to see her receive the award but he knew how much her fatherâs approval meant to her so he was happy in her happiness regardless.
âThat is great news, what did he say?â Rupert asked keeping his disappointment for not being able to see her at bay.
âHis assistant put me through in the very second call so he must really be impressed, he asked me about the function and he sounded very positive of it.â She told them about the seemingly brief phone call.
âYou have to talk to an assistant to get to your fath-â basil was quickly interjected with a small shove on the leg from Rupert to take a turn in that observation. Rupert didnât want it to rain her parade, âItâs so nice heâs coming all this way.â
âHeâd probably stay a day or two after that you should meet him!â She added, it seemed as if she was somewhat more joyous with the fact that her father was pleased than the actual award to her name. It was a grey line.
âI would be delighted to.â Rupert said, he would be. At least for her sake despite having his internal doubts towards the man.
-
The award function was an extremely formal event, you could barely tell apart the professors from the bureaucrats. Rupert could tell the difference easily though, he simply knew the later group, almost all of them. But he wasnât there for any of those people. Taking his seat at the round table, next to the faces he knew very well but he was way too focused on the happenings of the stage to indulge in small talk. And then there it was.
The lady of the evening. At least for him, her research dissertation was called out and he recognised it was her turn before they presented her name as well. White shirt with several pins of animal welfare and her educational institution. Simplicity and grace, ever so precious. As she received the medal and the award plate Rupert clapped perhaps the loudest, standing up even. The stage wasnât so far but she didnât spot him because her eyes were searching another direction and the procession was short lived before she could avert her gaze.
Finally after all the names were done, she was free from the stage back to the softly mingling crowd. âThere she is!â The enthusiastic exclamation caught her attention from her lost trance.
Adhering the man in suit with flowers in his hand, surprised and radiated expression, âRupert?!â She was baffled and so relieved she didnât understand the later feeling. She rushed to him, their distance getting closer as he opened his arms for her.
âCongratulations, darlingâ he said bringing her into a tight embrace both of them so joyous, hers was rather infectious. He easily lifted her from the ground out of glee, kissing the side of her face. âYou were wonderful out there!â
âWhen did you get here?â She asked once he put him down and she pulled away yet kept her arms entangled with him. Enough to just see his face, âalso how?â
âIâm an MP you thought I wouldnât be able to get into a government function?â He amused, surprised she did not see it coming, perhaps she wasnât expecting him but her reaction seemed as if she would rather prefer him. âI got here an hour before yours was announced.â
âI am so glad you made it!â She told him, the effort was so heartwarming to her. Heâd came to an event which wasnât initially his, making more arrangements to even get in for her. She didnât want to voice it because heâd always reply with such a strange concern as if being loved more than to be sustained wasnât optional, she wasnât used to this concern nor sentimental support.
Rupert could tell her kind, wide eyes in a sort of turmoil of something she couldnât figure out by even herself but he didnât pry on it, âwhere is your father?â He asked looking around shortly.
âOh heâŠhe isnât here. He could not make it.â She said with a small shrug, that is how casual his absence was to him.
ââHow come?â
âProbably his flight, I forgot to notify him about our time zones or so. If he were skipping he wouldâve called priorâ there was a small hope tugging at her heartstrings trying to believe this wasnât like the other times. âHe would be here anyways, would just be missing the event.â
âI supposeâ he replied curtly, being presented with two choices of either being truthful with her of her fatherâs harsh and uncaring constitution or hold the hope she held out for the man with her. None of the two seemed befitting to him. As the event progressed she introduced him to some of her professors and people that she worked with, he did the same with the other officials that he knew of. She grew tired of the socialising and asked him if they could leave the event, she wasnât as tired as she was growing disappointed of a man who wasnât even in the room.
Even though Rupert and her came to the event from a different place and were going back in difference directions it was a given that they leave together. At least to him it was, sheâd just informed him she felt like leaving and he stood up in an instant. He was dropping her back to her place because she didnât driver herself to the function. The two were walking, to his car in the chilly night with his suit blazer draped over her shoulders, flowers and his hand in her hand, he carried her award with her bag for her and a light hearted conversation. Serenity which ran away once they came across a pay phone call booth. âDo you mind if I go make a call?â She asked him, he nodded but he was well aware who that call was intended for.
Rupert leant against the phone stand with the small door of it open, close to her as she pressed the numbers inserting coins. Anxiously awaiting the other line to answer she replied when a voice answered âHello, this is me, y/n. Did dad leave yet?â She asked, he hated to see her in such distress and was afraid the conversation ought to make it worse. âWhat? What do you meanâthe event, my award he was going to be here forâŠlike he promised.â Rupert could only hear y/nâs side of the conversation but he could pan out the other side, which wasnât even her father just some office assistant. âJust let me talk to himâŠpleaseâŠtwo minutes perhaps?â It was difficult to watch, begging for the scraps of her father to an assistant. After a few moments the call ended and she couldnât even stomach the courtesy of a goodbye.
As she walked out of the booth he searched for her to meet his eyes, narrate to him the happenings of the call. âHis plans changedâ she said but nothing further. He could tell she didnât feel like talking so he stopped walking and also held her back from the track, pulled her into his arms. Resting his chin on top of her head as he held her, enlacing his arms around her tightly. He could definitely stay like this for rest of the night. Even life? A small voice suggested and he quickly dismissed it as he was pulled back to her, she didnât feel relaxed in his arms even though she hugged him back and her face so steady, he felt his shirt getting sprinkled with dampness, as if in smallest portions.
âY/nâŠâ he trailed off pulling away to confirm if she was crying, âare you crying?â He asked as she lowered her face so he couldnât see it but he leant in her direction to see. âHey..hey, itâs alrightâ he pulled her back to him letting her weep onto his chest as he ran a hand through her hair.
âI donât understand why I feel so badâ she said through her tears, holding onto him like she would fall apart even more if he let go. Perhaps she would.
âIt is alright darling just let it outâ Rupert said as he continued to sooth her in his arms, trying to provide a present, grounding support.
âHe promised meâŠâ she trailed off crying harder, all those events where her father shouldâve been present but wasnât came back to her. Fancy dress competitions at school where the chauffeur that dropped her off would have to attend the show out of pity for the child, birthdays where he would have to be bothered a multiple times to come attend cake-cutting, evidently sad over a test but he simply couldnât be bothered to ask his daughter if she was alright. So much life spent in I-promise-you-Iâll-be-there. So much disappointment and youâd think one would learn. âI just feel stupid-I thought this time would be different.â
Rupert held her face in his hands âlook at meâ he said forcing her to meet his gaze. âYou are not stupid for what you feel, you are not at fault for someone so detached and irresponsible towards their own child.â He spoke whilst wiping her tears, âhe will forever be an incomplete, deficient man for the kind of father that he is. But you my love are beyond him and how he treats you, youâre brilliant and kind and funny and you have a heart big enough to hold a planet. You are going to go so far, your suffrage of his conditional love and inflicted anguish will heal for the better. I promise you that.â
This was a better hope than the one she was always latched onto, hoping that he would change, come around for once. But letting go and a promise for a softer tomorrow seemed so much more beautiful. âBut I am so tiredâ
âYou have been so gentle through so muchâŠyou must have been tired too. But persevering is constant and you, you always do. There is so much life within you, those around you are infected with it, I know I am.â He confessed, he hadnât voiced it out especially not like this even to himself but she was more than a lively feeling, more than a chase or a rush for attraction. No. She was life.
Such admission made her heart flutter, she felt the drumming in her ears and it wasnât the anxious kind. This felt like a sunrise after a good dream, but she had no words for it because her eyes spoke enough and so did his that wandered down to her lips and back to his. Reciprocating the course of gaze when he leant forward, face so close she didnât move even by the slightest tired of awaiting him to inch to the closest extent she caught a soft grip of his shirt, lowering her gaze right when he crashed his lips onto hers. She kissed him back and it felt heavenly, as the kiss deepened he felt like he had reached there.
Smiles glued to their faces once they pulled away to catch a breath, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear he said âyou are not the only one whoâs won something tonight.â
âThat means Iâve won twiceâ she said with a small giggle adding to his exaggeration that kissing her felt like a win.
âThat isnât the same.â Rupert corrected her, going in to kiss her again with a slower passion, taking his time letting the sweetness of it linger âfor me this is centuries worth of wins.â
â
IVE SO MUCH MORE OF HIS STUFF COMING SOMEBODY SEDATE MEâŠnext his enemies to lovers let me know if you want to be tagged
PLEASE comments are my fuel I am HUNGRY for validation please if you like this please please let me know
#rupert campbell black#rupert campbell black x reader#Rupert Campbell black x you#rupert Campbell black x fem!reader#rivals disney+#rivals#rupert Campbell black fanfiction#rupert Campbell x reader#rupert x taggie#taggie x rupert#declan oâhara x reader#declan oâhara#tony baddingham
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FAQ + COD series masterpost (MONSTER AU + SOAPBOX UNDER THE CUT)
CONTENT WARNING: This blog contains explicit 18+ content! If you are a minor, please do not follow or interact!
(This counts for people who are 17 as well, 18 is truly the minimum age I'd be alright with.)
Commissions: [CLOSED]
Twitter
Patreon (NSFW and early access)
--
Frequently Asked Questions:
(read through the #askbox tag before asking to see if Iâve already answered! repeat questions and spam will be deleted.)
1. What program and brush do you use?
Clip Studio Paint, and I alternate between two brushes: fat sketcher 2 from stealthnachoâs brushset, and short vertical bar (dual brush) from sparthâs art pack 1
2. What tablet do you use?
I use a Surface Pro 8, which is a laptop where you can draw directly onto the screen. However, this is a really pricey purchase and before I had it, I used an Intuous Tablet for 6 years and loved it.
3.Can I repost your art on other platforms?
You can, but please credit me every time!
4.Can I write a fic/make fanart/ make an OC based on your AU?
Yeah sure!
5.Have you thought of what monster [insert character] would be? / Will you be adding [insert character] to the monster AU?
If I havenât talked about certain characters already, I probably wonât at all. And I donât have anything against these characters, but itâs more like Iâm largely indifferent and have 0 thoughts. Do what you will, I made my AU as a sandbox for others to play in too, so you decide what to do with these characters!
6.Will you ever draw Konig/Soapbox again?
If I feel like it, probably! But the brainrot where it was the main focus has definitely passed <3
7. Can I use your art for c.ai/ character bots?
I'd really prefer it if you didn't, sorry! I take a largely anti-AI stance on most things now.
-
MONSTER 141 AU
extra | team 141 character introductions
extra | konig + horangi character introductions
extra | las almas crew + graves character introduction
part ? | price/gaz rooftop talks
part 1 | bag of tricks
part 2 | ghost/soap muzzle
part 3 | price+ghost check in
part 4 | ghost + soap + gaz in action (part 1)
part 5 | ghost + soap + gaz in action (part 2)
part 6 | ghost + soap + gaz in action (part 3)Â
part 7 | sketchdump 1
part 8 | ghost/soap chasing tail
part 9 | soap/fantasy!ghost (full vers on patreon)
part 10 | ghost/soap docile
part 11 | ghost/price due diligence
part 11.5 | ghost/soap due diligence (nsfw - only available on patreon)
part 12 | ghost/price holding back pt 1
part 13 | ghost/price holding back pt 2
part 14 | soap/gaz doing things blind (only available on patreon)
part 15 | konig/horangi clear
part 16 | sketchdump 2
part 17 | debrief
part 18 | ghost/soap work it out (part 1)
part 19 | ghost/soap work it out (part 2)
part 20 | cockatrice (part 1)
part 21 | cockatrice (part 2)
part 22 | sketchdump 3/puppy playtime
part 23 | new moon (part 1)
part 24 | new moon (part 2)
part 25 | new moon (part 3)Â
part 26 | open book
part 27 | face to a name
part 28 | before
part 29 | thatâs an order
part 30 | diplomacy
part 31 | mr riley
part 32 | human
part 33 | wraith part 34 | sitting ducks part 35 | negotiations part 36 | monster part 37 | bloodsucker part 38 | the lieutenant's arrived part 39 | he keeps his promises part 40 | i'm sorry john. part 41 | mutt part 42 | limitations part 1 part 43 | limitations part 2 part 44 | limitations part 3 part 45 | hoard (full comic on patreon) part 46 | hoard part 2 (full comic on patreon) part 47 | mask off part 48 | aware part 1 part 49 | aware part 2 part 50 | reward (part 1) (suggestive) part 51 | reward (part 2) (nsfw - full comic only available on patreon) part 52 | reward (part 3) (nsfw - full comic only available on patreon) part 53 | catchup part 54 | brief part 55 | group huddle part 56 | quid pro quo part 57 | wing thing part 58 | generous part 59 | learning moment (part 1) part 60 | learning moment (part 2) part 61 | shy part 62 | the viper and the vampire part 63 | easy pickings part 64 | bogey part 65 | trapdoor
SOAPBOX SAGA (SOAP/GHOST/KONIG SERIES)
part 1 | konig/soap first meeting
part 2 | ghost/soap kid and a cookie jar (full vers on patreon)
part 3 | ghost/konig spar pt 1
part 4 | ghost/konig spar pt 2
extra | ghost + konig facecanons
part 5 | ghost/soap heart to heart
part 6 | ghost/konig grow a pair
part 7 | konig/soap do something
part 8 | konig/soap/ghost rough part 1 (full vers on patreon)
part 9 | konig/soap/ghost rough part 2 (full vers on patreon)
part 10 | trio feat. price mission start
part 11 | trio feat!unmasked konig
part 12 | trio feat! unmasked konig pull yourself together
part 13 | konig fantasises (full vers on patreon)
part 14 | ghost/konig feat. soap private lesson
part 15 | ghost/konig/soap lieutenantâs room
part 16 | ghost/konig/soap good for us (full vers on patreon)
#soapbox saga#monster 141 au#got soapbox from whisperwarm#my partner in crime in spreading this polycule agenda fandomwide#added monster au since its probably gonna go on for a while as well#god i wish lists could collapse#i added an faq!!!!#giragi art
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Hiya!! Iâm obsessed with your writing. Youâre my favorite writer on here, I dream of your stories!
Would it be possible to request (either with Ghost or Price, I love them both equally) something like they were young love but he breaks up with reader cos he wants to keep her safe and thinks he knows whatâs best for her. Then during a mission gone wrong, they need a safe house but somehow the enemy found out all the locations of their approved safe houses. He remembered her place is close by and tries his luck. Maybe she gets mad at him for making decisions for her or maybe he learns about her difficult past that happened without with. But with a happy ending? âșïž
Only if this inspires you! Thank you again for sharing your beautiful writings!
If You Bite My Hand Again
PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader
SYNOPSIS: How dare he show his face to you after all of these years. How dare you still find it in yourself to love him.
WORDCOUNT: 6.6k
WARNINGS: Heavy angst, abandonment, arguments, mentions of death, blood, insinuations of torture & mental illness troubles, Simon's comic backstory, hurt/comfort, sort of suggestive?, anxiety attack, somewhat happy ending, etc.
A/N: This was really fun to write, lol, enjoy Anon!
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
You never should have met him. In fact, it seemed like the universe had been adamant to make you not run into each other on that chilly October morning almostâŠwellâŠit has to be more than thirteen years ago, now. So long.Â
As you head to your kitchen and glance at the clock, the hands point to a perfect three-fifteenâan hour of pitch-blackness and whispering winds that dash past the musty glass of the windows. The thump of your footsteps blocks out the heaving sigh that falls from your mouth; rubbing at your eyes like a cat as great bags sag from tired flesh.Â
The dreams werenât uncommon.Â
Simon still reigned supreme in the conjuring of them, ingrained into the sinews and pulled thin by a hand constantly working themâknitting a sweater of memories addled with age. Moth-eaten.Â
As you snap on the light of your tiny and run-down kitchen, the bulb fizzing and the dishwasher still emitting that squeal as it always does, you think about him before grabbing a glass. Water hits and fills the thing up as your eyes blankly stare, fatigued but yet never more awake.Â
The tremors in your hands persist.
You never should have met him.
â
Your feet take you to Primary, laces a mess atop your little shoes caked in mud and grassâyouâd chased after a butterfly through the front yards, getting caught in your neighbor's bushes and having to slip your way out before she could rampage outside with her broom.Â
It was no surprise that your face was lit with a bright smile, eyes shining like fire that your teachers had given you a special name forââEmber.â
The very thing that could start a blaze over and over again as long as it still was alight.
Laughing and peeing out leaves from your hair; flattening out your uniform, you stride with pride ingrained into your body. Well, you did before you heard the soft sniffling coming from down the alley.Â
Halting, your ears perk at the sounds, smile freezing as you blink quickly. Looking to your left, you lock onto the hunched figure of a boy.Â
Perhaps only a year or two older than you, you stare in curiosity as he consciously paws at his cheeks, walking out of the alley in broken and odd strides. His uniform is ruffled, wrinkled, but not in the way yours was.
He must have fallen and hurt himself, you reason with a child-like frown pulling on your lips. Blinking at his blond hair, you get a glimpse of red-rimmed brown eyes.
The boy halts, looking at you widely, fear and pain emanating from his expression. Youâre the first to speak, brightness still in your eyes but a deep innocence that comes with youth. All you saw was a boy your age in painâthat was strange to you. You knew what getting hurt was like; you fell and scraped your knees often, or hit your elbows on corners. Sometimes you would cry from thatâŠdid the same happen to this boy?
âYouâre crying, arenât you?â Brown-Eyes stares, hurriedly pushing at his face to wipe tears but only succeeds in making his face red from the material of his uniform. âDid you fall down? I do that pretty oftenâitâs okay, my Mum says youâll be better after a hug and a kiss!â
You smile and stand straighter.Â
âI,â the boy begins, sniffling. âI didnât fall. Iâm not clumsy.â
You tilt your head, confused. âWellâŠthen why are you crying?âÂ
âThatâs none of your business!â He snaps, brows pulled in as he comes forward on the sidewalk. Your face twists as you huff in annoyance.Â
âMy Mum says to treat everyone nicely. That wasnât very nice.âÂ
âI donât bloody care, do I,â youâre sent a scathing glance as he passes. âI didnât ask for you to speak to me. Leave me alone.âÂ
Naturally, you follow after, cheeks gaining heat.
âYouâre being mean! Apologize!âÂ
âWould you run off already?!â The boy shouts, and perhaps something fires in that small brain of yoursâa thought and a semblance of self-realization at the shame that emits from his tone. A tight squeeze of vocal cords.Â
He was ashamed. Ashamed youâd caught him. Seen him.Â
Your feet slow back to a stop, watching him hurriedly continue on and hearing the quiet gasps of breath. After a moment, you grit your teeth and run the distance; seizing him around the middle in a hug of stubby fingers and tightly closed eyes.
The boy startles, body hardening and a cry escaping his lungs. âGet off of me!â He shouts, hands snapping down to yours and digging under your hold.Â
âNo!â You call, stubbornly. âMy Mum says that hugs make everything betterââ
âStop talking about your Mum!â The boy stomps his foot to the ground, chubby cheeks turning crimson as he tilts his head back to look at you, tears still dripping off his chin.Â
A stiff silence falls but like a green branch on a tree, Brown-Eyesâ form twitchingly loosens, his prying hands softening as you hold tightâdigging your nose into his spine. He minutely flinches, but you only hug him more.Â
Youâre both late to the building, and your teachers are going to give you scoldings. But right now, on a chilled October morning, you hug this strange, crying boy and blink your fiery eyes up at him.Â
After he relaxes fully and the sniffling stops, you let go and smile brightly again, looking up into his open expression of innocent confusion. Whatever had happened, he must have fallen pretty hard, you thought, pulling out another leaf from your hair. You giggle and hand it over as a gift.Â
The boy hesitantly picks it up and looks at it before turning back to you.Â
âCall me Ember.âÂ
A pause. A hesitation. But your eyes shimmer and he relents with the memory of the hug in the front of his mind. Such a strange encounter.Â
He speaks, looking away from you with flushed cheeks, muttering out as his tear streaks dry.
â...Simon.â
You walk together the rest of the way.
The reality was, if you had gotten caught by your neighbor, had snatched that butterflyâhad even stayed in those bushes for three more seconds, you would have missed him. And if Simon hadnât run out of his home crying, he never would have locked onto the burning reality that was with you.Â
â
You put the glass to your chapped lips and take a long sip, throat bobbing as you take down the liquid with tears burning your eyes. Blinking rapidly, you swipe at the water at the sides of your mouth and shake your head, sighing.Â
âWhy canât you leave me alone?â Your voice bounces off the walls, peeling paint and moving the dust stuck atop the fridge. âDamnit, Simon.âÂ
Today was worse than the othersâeverything building and stacking like some castle of misery and pain; windows too narrow to let in any light and your form stuck in shadows longer than an endless rope. There were just so many things that suffocated you now.Â
And in the endless nights, the brain desperately looks for comfort.Â
You hate that it only comes from the memories of him.Â
âI have to go to work tomorrow.â Your subconscious reminds you as you blankly stare out the window above the sink, seeing the streetlights and the cone of warm lightâit flickers every so often, a blinking taking place like the eye of a large, brutish, wolf.Â
Work, then the grocery store, then back home to eat a tasteless dinner and fall back to sleep. An empty house with empty walls and empty memories.Â
Your hands put the glass in the sink, coming back up to rub and dig into your eyes until the itch behind your flesh stops. A thump of a low pulse is felt in the thin skin, orbs of your optics moving before you pinch into the bridge of your nose and drop them with a slap of a hand to the counter. A harsh breath exits your mouth, but itâs quickly strangled away into a sound of ragged shock.Â
Outside, under the light, the silhouette of a man leans heavily on the pole, feet shaking under him and face pressed into the shadows as his shoulders heave. You stare, wide-eyed, as your heart jumps to a rapid pace.Â
âWhat the fuck?â Your mouth utters, watching the man push off the light and stagger with a heavy limp and a jerking body of immense stature. Whoever this guy was, he was out of his mindâand coming right for your front door. You startle to go and secure it, feet slapping the ground and face twisted.Â
âWhat the fuck?!â Gasping, you re-check your locks and frantically look for something elseâthe stool where you place your keys meets your eyes. You grab it and place it as a barrier to the handle, tilting it on two legs and blinking quickly as whatever sleep-sheen that had been in your gaze leaves in one swoop of adrenaline.
Grunting wafts in from under the door, haggard inhales and a sudden slam of a body hitting the door. You stifle a scream and back up quick steps, slapping your hands to your mouth.
Sure, you might live in a shitty neighborhood, but no one had ever tried to just straight-up break in high or drunk off something. Your mind slashes to the knives in the kitchen drawer as the wall shakes againâsomething sliding down to the ground and a grunted whine.Â
Just before you run off, you hear it. An utterance; a disruption of airwaves. A whisper, a plea. Your brain ceases to function with one foot back the way you came, hand on the frame with the knuckles tight.Â
In one instance it all comes to a screeching halt.Â
âEmberâŠâÂ
Who called you that anymore? The rare instance where youâd meet your classmates in the world they would mutter it; also be asked a few questions before they went on with their lives. You pause in your panic, slowly gazing back at the barrier and the stool like youâd just discovered youâre under the sights of a sniper.Â
Thereâs a sliver of something that inserts itself into your brain. Fear or hope, you canât tell. But that canât be right.Â
He left.Â
âEmber!â You flinch, the deep Manchester accent grating your heart into shreds. No. âItâs me!â He says, followed by a horribly gritty cough.Â
Thereâs a weak thump against the door, mumbled curses, and growls as if a wild animal mimicking human speech. You almost wished for that, considering you now knew the exact person behind the door down to his atoms. The brown of his eyes and the way his cheeks looked as they were stained with tears.Â
His laugh. Simonâs voice. Everything.
Simon.
Youâre rushing to rip the stool away with a clatter and a jerk as it hits the far wall, undoing the locks with shaking hands as you grasp the handle and wrench it sideways.Â
His form slams to your feet with a loud grunt as the door hits the wall.Â
âFuckinâ hell! Mind your bloodyâ!â Whatever he said was lost to you as you stare at the bloodied form of the man you had thought youâd seen the last of. Tactical gear, terrifying skull mask, black on black with weapons galore. But that voice told you all you needed to know.
Simon Riley is alive and very much breathing.Â
The same boy you still loved.Â
The same boy whoâd broken your heart.
â
After October the years with Simon seemed to strengthen. You always walked together in the morningsâor, at least, you always waited for him. The dawn of your friendship strengthened and hardened to an unbreakable amount of mid-day rays; vast and sunny.Â
When he was sixteen he asked you to be his girlfriend, hand in his pockets and ache on his chin as he grunted out broken sentences. Stuttering and awkward. Youâd smiled with your bright eyes and giggled before kissing his cheekâfeeling his sigh and him melting into you with a grin of his own, unable to meet your eyes for a moment.Â
Later, when he said heâd wanted to leave his apprenticeship at the groceryâs butcher shop and join the Special Air Service, youâd been along for the rideâanything to get him away from his father and brother. You knew what was going on, even if he was still so hesitant to allow you any glimpse of his home life.
When heâd shy away at the Halloween decorations of skeletons as if the skull would jump off the page and tense at loud cheering, you knew. You did what you could, but there was only so much for you to suggest or say without him shutting down.Â
When youâd offered your flat as a safe space after graduation, desperate to help your Lover, heâd stared and blinked in shock; tilting his head at you before smiling softly and taking you into a hug. Wherever he went, he knew heâd always have a place by your side.
So, throughout his leaves of absence from the military, heâd come home to youâbruised and tired, but still the same Simon you fell in love with. Youâd cook for him, tease at his shaved hair as he gave you those puppy-dog eyes, and talked him through your classes at University.
You would fall asleep on his chest, feeling the hard strength he was gaining and the way he held you tighter than he ever had; conscious of himself but not wanting to part with you.Â
The love the both of you had was akin to a blaze of fire, and you often found Simon simply staring into your eyes in times like thoseâwatching silently and rubbing his thumb along your spine until your face burned.Â
He was always so gentle despite everything; you loved his perseverance, his drive to be good despite nearly every factor telling him he couldnât be. Slowly but surely, he was forging his own life.Â
In 2003 he managed to take a break from the military to get his family straightened out. His brother, Tommy, went to rehabâSimon stayed with his mother and a year later he kicked his father to the curb and out of his and his family's life entirely. Finally free.Â
You managed to meet his lovely mum, still so bright, and even interacted with Tommy once he got out; went to the younger brotherâs wedding in â06 and met Beth, his wife. When you saw Simonâs mother and the way she carried herself, you knew where your Love got his pride from. The two were so alike it was a sight to see.Â
While it may not have been conventional by any standard, Simon proposed to you in the back garden of Tommyâs cheap wedding venue. Alone, so as not to cause a scene. Willow trees and a small stream of water. Fireflies. The words ring in your soul with every waking moment, and they will stay there until it all goes silent with the grip of death.
He didnât want to use his mumâs ringâthe one that holds so many bad memories for both parties. Heâd used the gold from it though. Went to a man who bled him dry for money to have it re-cast.Â
It was simple. A small, glinting, ruby pressed in the middle.Â
âIt was always goinâ to be you, Ember, yeah?â heâd muttered in his deeper voice, formal attire holding you both tight. âSoâŠdonât make me beg too much, Sweetheart. You know the old ladyïżœïżœll kill me if I get stains on my suit.âÂ
âBeg?â You responded, tears in your eyes but such a wide grin on your lips. The stars above you twinkle like the pupils of your eyesâthe same burn still trapped. âOh, Simon, come on, now.â He connects his forehead to yours, hand still in the middle of you and presenting the accumulation of all of his love. The other wraps your waist.Â
He was shaking slightly.Â
âI would never make you beg for my love, Brown-Eyes.â
You both share a breathless chuckle and lock lips, smiling like fools as he sighs into you.Â
In a happy world, that would have been the beginning of a perfect life. A happy house. A happy wedding. Happy deaths.Â
But something went wrong on one of his deployments.Â
Missing for months, he came backâŠwrong. With a fiery temper and sharp snapping wordsâwounds on the outside as well as inside. His eyes were feral, like a dog held back by a broken chain carting around its feet.Â
Simon never spoke about itâthe missing days. The weeks. The months.Â
You broke yourself over it, trying to help but not knowing what would make it better. Some days there were flickers of soft expressions, but it was as if he were dragging himself up from a pool so deep it was bottomless to show them to you. Simon rarely smiled. He rarely sent an affectionate glance.Â
He didnât let you touch him.Â
And then he called the entire engagement off with a letter on your counter only holding four words.Â
âDonât look for me.âÂ
And then Simonâs mum, Tommy, Beth, and his nephew had all died. Been killed. And you were just supposed to move on? Live with that? There were times when you had breakdowns so bad you couldn't leave the house for daysâthe house that Simon and you had bought together.Â
All of those years.Â
All those vows and shared nights.
And he disappeared on you.
â
You have him sitting on the couch, watching silently from the chair across the room as he finishes wrapping his leg with the bandages from the first-aid kit youâd provided.Â
More like chucked at his gut.
No one had said a word, and the air was as tense as a nooseâchoking any oxygen that traveled into your throat. Simon was getting blood all over your flat cushions, the crimson saturating the fabric as you sit rail-rod straight, hand clenched on your thighs.Â
Simonâs avoiding your eyes.
âTake off the mask,â you hiss, pupils slits. If he wasnât going to address it, then you were. Simon freezes, not breathing as his hands fall stationary around the bandages.Â
âIâll be fine in a whileââ
âTake off your fucking mask, Simon.â You canât help the way you snap, face burning with shame and hate. How dare he show up now, after all of these years of mourning him and the relationship youâd built as kids. Simon wasnât just your boyfriendâyour fiancĂ©âhe was your best friend.Â
And all heâd done was left you a four-fucking-letter note before leaving you behind.
The geared man sighs silently, and you see his shoulders sag. His grip travels up as he straightens his spine in a fluid motion, pain medication working through him in waves of numbness.Â
His brown eyes bore through you as if he were a ghost. Under the fabric, his mouth thins. âMaâam.âÂ
Even his voice is older. More dead. How could this be your Simon?
Your heart bruises your ribcage as he grasps the top of his skeletal mask, gloved fingers peeling back the sown layers until you get the full image of a man more damaged than before. You have to stop yourself from sobbing right then and there; your throat going dry.
So many scars. Milky white and spread vastlyâthey werenât pretty. Up his cheeks, down his brow line; even at the corner of his mouth and seeping down his neck. A crooked nose with damaged cartilage. Strangling a gasp, it comes out as a great expelling of horror, eyes going wide with shock.Â
You hate how you want to rush to him, take his face in your hands, and try to brush them away as if marks on paper. But you donât make any such movements beyond a hunch of your shoulders.Â
âNot pretty, eh? Guess I shouldâve warned you.â Simon rubs at his forehead, blond locks, hanging around his temple, and the black of face-paint stuck in his sockets. âDidnât mean to fuckinâ drop in like this, Ember. Bloody bastard thing for me to do.âÂ
You flinch at the name, looking away as youâd been peeling back his skin with your eyes. âWhat are you doing here, Simon?â Anyone with a brain could hear the cracking hardness in your words. Face blank.Â
He studies your features, taking in the changes and the bleakness of your expression. Brows furrow slightly before they go back to a state of nothingness. Simon glances around the room, finding the condition of things concerning but doesnât show it.Â
âNothinâ you need to worry about cominâ back to you, Sweetheart. Just work.â
âIt is when the bastard who abandoned me shows up years later, bloody on my doorstep. Stop acting so self-righteous,â you growl, snapping, âI should toss your arse outside and let them have you. And donât fucking call me that.â
Silence descends, and your words echo. Itâs like now that he was here everything hurt ten times more than when he wasnât.Â
âI never wanted us to end up like we didââ
âBullshit!â Youâre on your feet and stalking to him, pointing with your finger as he hurriedly stands up as well and looks down in shock as you press your digit into his bulky vest. âYou shut your mouth, Simon Riley, and you let me explain something to you.âÂ
He keeps silent, mouth parted and scars shifting around his stubble. His hands slightly held out at his sides and hovering over your hipsânot touching you but there just in case. Simonâs brown ords are carefully widened at your tight exclamation. The sound of his clearing throat enters the living room before you speak again.Â
âI waited for you, hoped and prayed that you would show me at least a,â your throat bunches, but you push through. âA modicum of respect and show your stubborn self up at my door with apology flowers and a guilty smile on your lips. You know who took care of your family's burial plots, you fucking piece of shit,â his eyes flinch closed a bit, turning his head down as his breath hitches. âMe! You fucking disappeared!â
You know you shouldnât be yelling, shouldnât be pounding on his chest with a fist as if he was a door and you the knocker, but, dammit, itâs been years and he just shows up? Like this? Ten times the size he wasâscarred and torn to shreds; laced with muscles and an expression of vacancy. Simon holds to your words, hanging off of them with a down-ward turned chin and eyes that lock with yours through pale lashes.Â
âMaybe I-I did, oâŠor pushed some things that I shouldnât have,â you hold back your tears, but your voice still wavers, tapering off like a line without a hook, âbut I didnât deserve that, Simon.â The first traitorous sob breaks through. âI didnât deserve that.â
His eyes shatter into a myriad of kaleidoscope bits and pieces, brows flicking from one point on your face to another in quick slashes of guilt. But he still doesnât touch you. Not until you tell him itâs what you want.
Simon opens his mouth but closes it just as quickly, unable to find any words that would even matter. You let your tears slip down your cheeks, dribbling off your chin. The manâs chest hurts, pulse thumping to mirror yours.Â
âI waited for you and you broke me,â you whisper, mouth twisting with odium towards the man under your fist. âI wanted a life with you, Simon, no matter the trials.â
âI didnât mean toâŠâ The man trails off, clenching his jaw. You scoff, backing up a step and pressing your palms into your eyes.Â
âBut you did.â
âI had to keep you safe, Ember.â Simonâs fingers twitch outward, eyes frantically moving around as you sniffle and shakily walk away to the kitchen. He follows, desperately on your heels as your spine bows forward with resounding cries of anguish. âI...I wasnât right in the head, I need you to understand I didnât want this! I never wanted to fucking hurt you!âÂ
Your hand connects with the junk drawer, tearing it open and digging a hand inside as he pleads with you to listen.Â
âIf I didnât leave I was worried Iâd do somethingâ!â
âThen you should have trusted me!â Your hands rip out the ring held on a small leather strap. The ruby glints where it always sits, held in tarnished gold. You chuck it at his chest and suck down breaths so you donât pass out. âI would have listened! Gotten you help! We donât abandon the ones we love, Simon! Not us!âÂ
Simon catches the object by slapping a hand to his chest, pinky finger latching through the leather cord before he jerks his limb back up. When he looks at the ring, he goes utterly still, gazing back up at you slowly.Â
âWe were supposed to be different,â you sob, trapping it behind your hands. Heâs shaking, brows tight and lines along his face as he brings a free hand to run through his locks, gripping the strands for a moment and pulling. âSimon,â you say again, and he looks back at you with glossy eyes. âWe were supposed to be better.â
âWhat did I do to you to deserve that,â he stares, his jaw is loose and he canât stop clenching and unclenching it. You can see his heart working through his breast. Bloodied. Beaten by fists and slashed with knives. âWhat did I do to you?â
âNothing,â he gasps, taking a step forward. âFuck, Ember, you didnât bloody do anything to me besides love me.âÂ
You sputter out, âThen why did you leave me here alone?â Your knees buckle and he darts forward, catching you under the arms as you wail out, shoving on his waist, âYou never should have come back. Never should have come back.âÂ
He lets you push him off; lets you back up to the counter as Simon tilts his head higher to stave off the tears in the sides of his eyes. Heâd known coming here was a bad idea, for lack of a better word, but after the Op went bad and all of his safe houses were compromised, he didnât have a choice. It wasnât to say he didnât regret his actions in the past with you, or that he didnât punish himself for them, yet at the time it was the only thing he could do to give him the sense that you would be better without him. Safe.Â
After everything that had happened, he wasnât in the right state of mind anymore. You deserved so much better. But hearing all of thisâŠ
Christ, could he have been wrong? Everything blurred; hurt. Hearing your sobs was like a knife to his heart every time, digging and cutting with serrated edges at the veins and pumping muscle, carving away flesh to shed the pounding redness to light. You held that heart in your hand and in his he held the ringâthe ring heâd given to you as a promise of love and honor.Â
A pact of loyalty.Â
Simon doesnât even realize heâs crying until the blurring edges of his vision make itself known. His eyes bore harshly, prodding into you as he makes known what heâs been broken since he first locked gazes with you again. The manâs voice shakes, accent deep and tight.
He asks the first thing that comes to his head.
âWhat happened to your eyes?â
âWhat?â You ask, incredulously, brows furrowed as your hand digs into the counter to keep you upright. Simon stares deeper, the sides of his eyelids wrinkling with a not-so-hidden sheen of great concern. Unbearable pain.
âWhat happened to your bloody eyes?â Where had the spark gone? That flare that grew and spread like fire that was the entire purpose behind your name. An unconquerable ache for life.Â
You only watch him with a parted mouth and tear-stained lashes, sniffling. Simon tries again, taking a step forward on unsteady feet.Â
âPlease, Sweetheart, dâŠdonât, donâtâŠâ He canât finish, the leather cord intertwined into his fingers as he comes closer. âDonât tell me I took it away. Not my Ember. Not my Girlâs fire.â
Your eyes are so overflowed you canât even see him as he hovers over you, fingers coming up to brush your cheeks as his mouth is open in hard pants of breath. âNo, no, no. Fuckinâ bastard, not me. Not over me, please.â Itâs like Simonâs not even talking to you but rather himself.Â
He mutters in fast sentences, eyes panicked. âYou were supposed to be better offââposed to move on. Why didnât you? Why didnât you find someone else?âÂ
âYouâre an idiot, Simon. An idiot,â you sag into his neck, nose digging into his pulse as he quivers, legs having to reset themselves. His heat melts into you as your body gives out with a final sob, âIt was always going to be you.â
His arms snap around you like a vise, dragging you into him as he breaks and stifles his whimper on your scalp, breathing right by your ear; gasping for breath.Â
âMâsorry,â he mutters, so silent below his sniveling stutters, âMâso sorry, Sweetheart. This is all my fucking fault.âÂ
You shake into his chest, face nuzzling and desperate to smell his scent againâtired from all the yelling and fighting. It was still late, you still needed to go to work tomorrowâŠbut Simon.Â
Oh, Simon. How could he be soâŠhim?
Your sobs are quieter than his, tiny cries that make the manâs arms tighten around you every time. Hands coming up, you canât stop the way you want to hold him; how you wish to keep him close to you and push him away all at once. How dare he?Â
How dare he still make you love him after all heâd put you through?Â
Simon sags to the floor with you in his hold, head bowed and trying to gasp down his vulnerability as tears stain your shoulder. Itâs as if the realization that heâd made a mistake had broken him back down to when he was young, past hatred of messing up infesting his brain like maggots. A fear of it, even.Â
The man presses quick, panicked kisses to your neck as his breath hitches every other second, rocking you back and forth.Â
âDidnât mean to do it,â Simon utters. âDidnât mean for it to hurt youââÂ
He breaks off and you realize that despite the years Simonâs mind was still very much fragile when it came to home life. You blink and take a deep breath, unable to get out of his unrelenting grip.Â
Your hand travels up to find the back of his head, spreading through his hair and massaging his flesh. When things got bad you used to do this with him. Give the man something to focus on so he could pass through his hysteria quicker.
Simonâs ribcage bangs against yours, nearly hyperventilating with how heâs trying to hide his small grunts and whines.
âSimon,â you clear your throat, trying to calm yourself down as seriousness sets in your tone. âSimon, breathe.âÂ
Your ears twitch, noticing him listen to you as he takes down a long gasp of air and breathes out in puffs on your neckâhot and humid.Â
âEmberâŠâ
âShh,â interrupting, you shush him in tiny whispers, still rubbing at his head. âBrown-Eyes, just sit here, okay?â You feel a jerky nod, his fingers squeezing your flesh off and on as he mimics your own lung pattern.Â
Itâs a few minutes before he goes completely still again, and you feel the burn of shame from his face in your clutch. The relationship was strainedâor whatever you could call thisâbut you never wanted to see him in pain. Never. Â
You knew he was better when he sighs deeply, completely going limp in your arms; great weight leaning into you as you lean back to the cabinets to help with the pure might of his physique. With a slow hand, you un-velcro his vest and his gear, letting it hit the floor with dull thumps and clatters.Â
He doesnât protest, doesnât move to help or hinder. You would give anything to know what he was thinking.Â
âMâsorry,â Simon whispers and you respond accordingly, softly.
âYouâve already said that, Love.â He grunts, taking in a long, deep breath.Â
âNeed you tâknow it.âÂ
â...I do.â
âOkay.â You close your eyes and stave off your anger at everything happening right now. While it would feel better to yell at him until dawn, what would that even achieve? Everything had needed to be said, had been. And youâd never felt lighter than at this moment.Â
You knock your head against him, the both of you panting for breath and hands vibrating with leaving adrenaline. Sweaty and twitchy.Â
âYou never should have done that, Simon.â Whispering, you sigh. âI needed you. I needed you here. With me.â He stays still, but you feel his lips press deeper into your pulse. Youâre practically in his lap, back to the woodgrain.Â
In a moment of weakness, or pure longing, you pull his head back and situate your hands at his cheeks, looking over his scars and his broken skin as he lets you move him how you wish. His half-lidded, red, eyes stareâgrip around you not letting up.Â
Simon doesnât speak as, unprompted, you kiss the shattered bridge of his nose; you only feel the fluttering of his lashes as they tickle your cheeks.Â
âI was scared of myself.â He mutters. âAfter they diedâŠâ His family. âI didnât want to put you in danger, Ember. Not you.â
âWe would have figured it out, Simon. You know that, deep down, you do.â Brown eyes find yours as you tilt his head.Â
âYou sure?â He asks, desperate for an answer even though he doesnât know himself.Â
Thumbs run up and down his stubble. Your face creases, â...I donât know. But we could have tried.âÂ
Simonâs eyes close tightly, and his face tilts to press his lips to your palm, quivering breath exhaled with the strength of an open balloon. Your ring was still stuck in his digging grip, and it was never going to leave for the rest of the night.Â
âYeah,â he whispers, gravely voice lax.Â
Studying him now, in this light, knowing he was so afraid of what he might do if he got into an episode, you were stabbed with agony in your heart. To be that afraid of yourself to that magnitude was nearly unimaginable to you.
Nearly.Â
âWhat now?â You ask lowly, the last remnants of tears drying as Simon opens his eyes slowly, looking back at you.Â
âDonât know.â He admits. âI have to leave.â
âI have work tomorrow,â you relate. Your teeth find your lip, biting it.Â
A small awkward chokehold captures the both of you. The reality was that both of you were akin to strangers againâsuch was the curse of lost years and trials youâd faced along the way.Â
Brown-Eyes and Ember were dead, yet you still called their names like phantoms of sleek black fabric and chained recollections of a boy with red cheeks and a girl with muddy shoes. The walks to school were there, the dates, and the late nights spent in good company. Touches to skin and open-mouthed kisses. Fireflies that whizzed and the glinting of gold as wind ran through the willows.
Dark corruption stained the faint idea of happiness; of a good world. This was not reality. It was some joke of an existence.Â
If life were fair, Simon Riley would have never grown up in that houseâhis father wouldnât have latched onto his brother and done dark deeds to wrap the little brown-eyed boy in red tissue paper and barbed wire. A present and sheen of mild sociopathy; separation of any pain or torment. A fighting boy. A boy born with blood on his hands and stuck behind his eyes every time he swung a fist.Â
It was a curse to love him. And it was a curse that burned your soul with his very name.Â
âAre you going to go?â You ask, eyes blank but yearning for what little comfort you can grab. It had been so long. Simon blinks, his head still in your hands; body not moving.
He knows he should. He isnât sure if thereâs anything left for him here or not.Â
Simon connects his head to yours and you still. âDo you want me to?âÂ
âDo you love me?â You blurt, blinking at him and confused. Simonâs lips part. âOr if you walk out that door do I plan on never seeing you again?âÂ
You're about to open your mouth and continue before his own slots perfectly against it.
You gasp lightly, taken aback but in no way opposed. He still felt exactly the same, flesh still tasting metallic and tinged with violence down to his DNA; raised with survival instincts as his greatest ally. Until you.Â
With you survival became secondary.Â
Your hands go to card through his hair, latching and lightly pulling as Simonâs body shivers; growling against your lips in a dance of heated flesh and damp cheeks. Hearts hammer with the restraint of years.Â
âI would never make you beg for my love,â he murmurs between lapsing passes of his mouth, open kisses and dark glances. âTell me where you want me to be.â
You whimper against him and he goes back in, pressing the base of your skull to the cabinet as hands grip and slide, kneading your skin.Â
âTell me,â Simon whispers. Pleads through grunts. âEmber, tell me.â
âHere,â you admit brokenly, pulling him closer to you as youâre lifted and placed on the countertop. âI need you here, Simon. I need you with me.âÂ
Fingers capture your chin, keeping your head angled up as your eyes beg. Lips bush with every word, gazes wild as if two leopards locking jaws over a kill.Â
âFight to get me back.â Brown sparks with purpose, a small puff of air hitting your mouth as eyes darken over. In this moment, you do not know if youâre dying or living. âMake it right.â
âAffirmative.â Simon moves his head back, taking your ring and looping the cord around his neck, he keeps it there as you watch, breathless. Your face creases with question. The manâs lips flicker when he sees this, coming back and grasping your hips as you instinctually latch to his waist.Â
âIâll give it back when Iâve earned the right for you to be called mine again. Seems I have work to do, Sweetheart.â He kisses you once more, firm and true. âFirst, Iâll âave to figure out if my Girl can get her spark back, yeah? Iâve proper gone and fucked it up.âÂ
That night you lay in the heap of limbs and sheets that couple the both of you together. In the morning the questions would start, and Simon knew youâd take nothing short of the truth.Â
And heâd give you it. All of it.Â
Because Simon Riley knows well enough that you donât go and bite the hand that feeds twice. Certainly not when it was you. Certainly not when it offers a love he would never hope to find again, in this life or the next.
So you keep the other close and sag into a deep slumber, not to wake for a long, long time.Â
And youâd both never slept better
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#cod#cod x reader#cod x you#cod mw22#call of duty#mw2#mw2 2022#x female reader#call of duty mw2#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty mwii#cod ghost#cod mw2#cod mwii#simon ghost riley#cod simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#cod simon riley#simon riley#simon ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost x reader#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#cod modern warfare#modern warfare x you#modern warfare x reader
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TRIKARANOS: THE PROLOGUE
TRIKARANOS is a comic about Crassus until it isn't. Intended for an adult audience.
â Trikaranos will always be free to read (in the near future, youâll have the option to support this comic & my ability to make it through Patreon!)
â There is no set update schedule (chapters vary in length and will be posted as I finish working on them)
â alternative places to read it (coming soon!)
CREDITS all additional art used are in the Public Domain [as per the Met's Open Access policy]
đ The Abduction of the Sabine Women, Nicolas Poussin đ Obverse, a Terracotta neck-amphora depicting Aeneas rescuing his father, Anchises, during the fall of Troy. [description taken from the Met] đ compositional study for The Lictors Bringing Brutus the Bodies of his Sons, Jacques Louis David đThe Battle of Vercellae, Giovanni Battista Tiepolo đ The Capture of Carthage, Giovanni Battista Tiepolo
UNDER THE CUT creator's commentary, ancient citations, whatever else seems relevant. ideally, this is optional! you shouldn't need the citations for it to make sense as it unfolds since it's a comic and a story first and foremost, but it's here if you're curious and want to see where the inspiration is coming from!
so! there are a couple of accounts about the return of Marius and Cinna, I've chosen Appian's account for the primary source of inspiration, although I've cut the cast down to it's barest essentials because I want the claustrophobia of violence to really eat itself.
Cinna now began to despise his enemies and drew near to the wall, halting out of range, and encamped. Octavius and his party were undecided and fearful, and hesitated to attack him on account of the desertions and the negotiations. The Senate was greatly perplexed and considered it a dreadful thing to depose Lucius Merula, the priest of Jupiter, who had been chosen consul in place of Cinna, and who had done nothing wrong in his office. Yet on account of the impending danger it reluctantly sent envoys to Cinna again, and this time as consul. They no longer expected favourable terms, so they only asked that Cinna should swear to them that he would abstain from bloodshed. He refused to take the oath, but he promised nevertheless that he would not willingly be the cause of anybody's death. He directed, however, that Octavius, who had gone round and entered the city by another gate, should keep away from the forum lest anything should befall him against his own will. This answer he delivered to the envoys from a high platform in his character as consul. Marius stood in silence beside the curule chair, but showed by the asperity of his countenance the slaughter he contemplated. When the Senate had accepted these terms and had invited Cinna and Marius to enter (for it was understood that, while it was Cinna's name which appeared, the moving spirit was Marius), the latter said with a scornful smile that it was not lawful for men banished to enter. Forthwith the tribunes voted to repeal the decree of banishment against him and all the others who were expelled under the consulÂship of Sulla.
Accordingly Cinna and Marius entered the city and everybody received them with fear. Straightway they began to plunder without hindrance all the goods of those who were supposed to be of the opposite party. Cinna and Marius had sworn to Octavius, and the augurs and soothsayers had predicted, that he would suffer no harm, yet his friends advised him to fly. He replied that he would never desert the city while he was consul. So he withdrew from the forum to the Janiculum with the nobility and what was left of his army, where he occupied the curule chair and wore the robes of office, attended as consul by lictors. Here he was attacked by Censorinus with a body of horse, and again his friends and the soldiers who stood by him urged him to fly and brought him his horse, but he disdained even to arise, and awaited death. Censorinus cut off his head and carried it to Cinna, and it was suspended in the forum in front of the rostra, the first head of a consul that was so exposed. After him the heads of others who were slain were suspended there; and this shocking custom, which began with Octavius, was not discontinued, but was handed down to subsequent massacres.
Appian, Civil Wars I, 70-71 (trans. Horace White)
Plutarch's biography of Marius also recounts the same event, but I was leaning more on Appian for this.
ALSO! the choice to use Giovanni Battista Tiepolo's painting The Capture of Carthage as a backdrop to Octavius: it's because Cinna and Octavius were co consuls for a minute and Rome and Carthage are twin cities (instar Carthaginis urbem babyyy), and I do love the doubling/twin-ification of a thing. which is what co consuls are to me. we're overlapping the themes, in addition to the overlapping of violence, which is what all iterations of Rome are founded on.
Textual Monuments: Reconstructing Carthage in Augustan Literary Culture, Nora Goldschmidt
the chapter cover is my own illustration of an Etruscan kantharos because Crassus may or may not have had some kind of Etruscan heritage. YMMV but for me it's fun to think about
Marcus Crassus and the Late Roman Republic, Allen Mason Ward (& the citation!)
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Would you ever consider doing anything for Miguel/Fem!Deadpool reader?
One who's honestly just kind of tease which makes it impossible for Miguel to figure out *why* he hates her flirting with other spidermen so much until the penny hits.
Bonus points for recklessness and brat energy from DP we all know they aint got no self control. Needs Miguel to definitely put her in her place.
Ohhhh, I have seen so much fan art of just regular Deadpool being a menace to Miguel, Dr. Strange and the TVA. It gets me excited to see the new movie coming out!
But yea, let's give into the chaos!
Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, bondage, angry sex?, p in v, language
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
"For fuck's sake, why is there so many anomaly's popping up in different universes?" Miguel barked, tapping against his screens as he sent numerous Spiderman and women out to the field.
"Actually, based on the energy signatures, it seems to be the same anomaly."
"Impossible, one person jumping around all of these?" Miguel cussed lowly, trying to identify the new anomaly.
This new frustration was giving Miguel a reason to want to drink tonight. The speed he was working to try and understand this problem was honestly amazing. This was probably the fastest he has ever worked.
"Wow! No wonder why all of the Spiders I met say great things about you!" You gasped.
"Que?! (What)" Miguel hissed, seeing both a new intruder alert and anomaly alert appear at the same time, "Who-"
"Haiiiiiii! Pleasure to meet you, sexy ass, my name is (Y/N), I'm like the hottest version of me there is-"
"I. Don't. Care." Miguel hissed, jumping down from his platform and approaching you, "This attire...fuck-"
"Yeeeeep! I'mma Deadpool!" You chirped.
Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose before taking long, deep breathes. Once he regained a portion of his composure, he proceeded to grab you by the collar and drag you to the 'Go Home' Machine.
At least one of his problems were solved today. Hopefully you will stay in your dimension. Trying to ignore your chatter, Miguel couldn't help but notice some of the other Spiders avoiding eye contact. This annoyed Miguel. How many of them ran into you before saying anything?
"Hm? Oh like half of them." You replied. Miguel groaned loudly,
"Wasn't even a thought bubble," He muttered under his breathe before arriving in the room, "I don't want to see you here again. Stay in your world."
"Awe, but isn't fun! Not when I found such a squeezable ass-"
"Send. Her. Home!" Miguel spat.
It only took a second, but you were sent home immediately. Miguel took another deep breathe before returning to his office to hopefully relax.
----------
"Hehe, he gets so mad when he finds me wandering around this place. It totally isn't my fault that all of you guys think of taking a break here and I just-hop into those thoughts and end up here!" You huffed, talking to Peter B. Parker and Jessica.
"Yeah, yeah, we still don't understand the whole hopping into thought bubbles thing you say you do. It's so confusing." Peter huffed.
"Oh, it's pretty easy. I'd like to describe it as a comic book, but you guys won't understaaaaand, the readers will though!"
"Readers?" Jessica groaned softly. You just laughed,
"Oh yeah! The readers reading this now! So like, normally it's a comic I hop around or thought bubbles or I just rip through the screen, but this time...It's the readers who bring me here!"
"I think I'm more confused than when I started," Peter whined and turned to Jessica who tossed you into the 'Go Home' machine, "Look, just...don't come back before Miguel gets bad again."
"Hpmh! I just said it isn't my fault I keep coming back!" You whined loudly, "The readers and writer keeps bringing me here! I am meant to share my wisdom to Miguel!"
"Why do I hear that Deadpool's voice?" Miguel grumbled, holding a cup of coffee as he walked by, "Again?"
"See! He neeeeeeds me! That has to be why the writer keeps putting me here!"
"What the hell is she babbling about now?"
"Please, don't ask. I don't think my brain can handle anymore." Peter whimpered. Jessica waved him aside,
"She's going home now, Miguel."
Just as the machine turned on, you immediately got sent home. Miguel let out a sigh of relief and right when he was going to drink his coffee, you appeared behind him.
"Fuck!" Miguel yelled as he noticed you. You just casually waved,
"Believe in the spirits beyond."
"I want her gone!"
"Miguel, we've tried so many times. I think...we just need to accept her appearing here." Jessica whispered. You grabbed Miguel's cup, taking a sip,
"Oof, so bitter. So now that I can stay here under the writer decides to let me go home, wanna show me around, big boy?"
Miguel felt his eye twitch as he followed you, mainly just wanting his coffee back.
------------
It has been a few weeks since you've stayed at the-
"Whoa, whoa. Really writer? You gonna make here stay here for weeks without going home?" You huffed.
Okay, sorry, um, it has been a few weeks since you started to willingly appear at the Spider Society.
"Thank you!"
....
Uh, anyway, Miguel has finally started to tolerate you to a certain degree. You still couldn't understand why you kept appearing there, but you were making the most of it. Miguel on the other hand, was starting to find something new to irritate him.
"It's just so fascinating how different each of you are~ Can I touch those wonderful large boobs of yours?" You whispered in awe towards a Spiderman. Yes a Spiderman.
"They're not boobs."
"It's okay to not want to admit your flaws. I buried mine with my neighbor." You whispered, slowly reaching out to the boob.
"Enough." Miguel hissed, grabbing the back of your collar and dragging you to his office.
"Hey! I was about to grab something that could have been the most magically experience of my life!"
Miguel chose to ignore you, growing annoyed at your bratty and quite ignorant behavior. Honestly, he was more annoyed by the amount of flirting you've been doing with the other Spiders. You just didn't know when to stop.
"I can't help it. A natural icon I am," You chuckled and grabbed Miguel's ass, "But this...is a multiverse icon."
Miguel's eyes lit up as he locked his door and tossed you on his platform. In an instant, he webbed you in place, making sure that you couldn't move to try to free yourself.
"Ohhhh~ This is kinky~" You cooed, rolling around like a worm. Miguel pinned you to the floor, his blood red eyes piercing into yours,
"Do you know how frustrated you make me?"
"So...you aren't happy to see me?" You grinned, your knee poking at his growing erection, "I made you horny!"
"Silence," Miguel covered your mouth, "Shit, you're so annoying. No one has been able to put you in your place. Do I need to be the one to do that?" He said with a huff.
You licked his hand in response, "Awe, not sure if a fucking will stop me, but you are so willing to try~" You hummed.
Miguel felt his eye twitch as he captured your lips in a kiss, wanting to shut you up. You couldn't help yourself and smirked, enjoying this moment. Parting your lips, you hummed as Miguel forced his tongue into your mouth, his hands roaming your body.
"Mhm~ Gim....sq..." You tried to say. Miguel broke the kiss, glaring towards your,
"What?" He grumbled, biting and sucking against your neck. You chuckled as his hands reached your breasts,
"Give em a squeeze~ You know you wanna~"
"Do I have to shut your mouth again?" Miguel grumbled, kissing you again.
You tried your best to behave, you truly did. You couldn't help but try to grind against his hips, press your chest to his, or even kiss his neck. Miguel was ready to web your mouth, at least until he started to rub your-
"Whoa, whoa, writer, now I don't mind a good sex scene, but lemme have some privacy here!" You huffed.
Uh, I kind of wrote smut in the warning...so I'm giving the readers what they want, a sex scene.
"Well, I want this man to myself right now! You write other smuts! Let them read those!"
But they wanted this...I can't just-
"Consent!" You huffed, literally spreading your legs towards a feral Miguel who had you pinned, "This is different! I'm totally into this freaky shit!"
"Who are you talking too?" Miguel grumbled, ripping your suit. You shushed towards him,
"The writer! Wait juuuuust a second before shoving that monster of a cock inside me!"
I need to give them a sex scene here. You're already helping me write it.
"No, no! You are trying to write it. I'm trying to enjoy the moment. So be a good writer and juuuuuuuust-"
---------
"Thank you~"
What just happened?
"Oh, I totally skipped the part where Miguel fucked me so good that I actually did shut up. Hell, I think I still feel weak in the knees. Who would have known the stamina and strength that man had. Fucking hot, can't wait to-"
You skipped my story?! I'm the writer here!
"Yeaaaaaah, but like, you can always write more smut. Let me just enjoy that moment to me~. I'm sure you understand~" You cooed.
...
"Hehe, go on. End the story. I'm sure you have other smut to write."
I just- Whatever.
Let's just say, you made yourself a permanent member of the Spider Society. You made sure to annoy Miguel just enough so that he could keep teaching you a lesson. Hopefully, we'll get to see one of those lessons one of these days.
"Maybe~ If I decide to show the goods."
Freaking Deadpools.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hahaha, hope you enjoyed! I always loved it when Deadpool would just talk to the narrator or hop comic pages sometimes. It was great.
@tojishugetiddies
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel spiderverse#miguel o'hara smut#spiderman 2099#miguel oâhara x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel spiderman#atsv miguel#across the spiderverse
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One problem I've been slowly contending with as an artist who is attempting to make her living online has been this idea of Friction. In this case, Friction just means anything that gets in the way of a person reading my work or giving me money.
Strangely, these two things are about equally difficult. There are plenty of people who would very much like to give me money, just as there are plenty of people who haven't gotten around to reading my comics but would like to. And the only reason they haven't is because of Friction.
So let's quickly talk about points of friction. Let's say I upload a full comic book for free to itch.io, for anyone to download to any device, and then they can download it at their convenience. Sounds easy, right? Well, no. First, the way they heard about that book was most likely through my tumblr account, which means they first have to click on a link to leave tumblr and go to a different site. That's already a major point of Friction. If someone is browsing through tumblr on the bus on their way to work, or as a means to unwind from a stressful day, they are very unlikely to want to leave tumblr and commit an unknown amount of time to a separate activity. Then that person has to decide they are willing to download the files as presented on itch. If they have an account they have to login. (Although in many cases they will already be logged in.) Finally they will have the pdf, but then they have to open the pdf at which point they will see the document is 186 pages long at which point they might well decide actually this is too much trouble right now and do something else.
And this comes around to why tumblr is actually a pretty good platform for comic artists. If I upload a couple of pages in chunks at a time, people will read them as they scroll by. That's a point of Friction already mitigated. If they liked it, or their curiosity is piqued, there might be enough interest for them to click the link that takes them directly to the beginning of the comic (also on tumblr), and they can then read it from there. Or else they might make a mental note of it for later, and the next time they see a comic chunk might be the time they have a moment to see what my comic is about. All in all pretty painless.
Unfortunately, with money that's less the case. If you think about the first example, it's not hard to see why. First I have to get someone to click on my patreon link. Then they have to make an account. Then they have to add their payment information. All of these are points of Friction that exist. What's worse is the existence of Anticipated Friction, which essentially frontloads all of that work onto the first point. This makes it very very difficult to get someone to click on any external links in the first place.
This isn't like... a call to action or to shame tumblr users for not reblogging posts by the way. That's not something I can control. It's just an interesting problem to try and solve.
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Iâm a tall girl ( 6â0+ ) and I rarely see any content for us and only if youâre up to it and taking requests could we get bsd men with a tall reader ^-^ feel free to disregard this if you donât want to !
From đ° anon ( if I can be ^^ ) :3
âč note. . . as a short girlie this was a lil difficult to write, but I managed ! so sorry abt answering this so late and ofc you can be đ° anon, my dear <3
dazai doesn't care about your appearance, he'd love you no matter what you look like. if you're taller than him, he'd still enjoy every single bit of it, of of course. he loves how he doesn't have to strain his shoulders and slouch or bend down to kiss you. will also convince you to tease chuuya together, which eventually becomes one of y'all's favourite couple activity <3
during bed, he definitely won't deny a tall dominant lady, if you're into that. but if you prefer being submissive, he won't mind that either. mans just wants to get his dick wet and touch you, as simple as that..âĄ
chuuya also doesn't care about your appearanceâ just don't mention or make jokes about the comical height difference between you both. he'll either sulk about it, or huff and smack you playfully, grumbling something about 'height doesn't matter'. and if you picked him up and threw him over your shoulderâ he'd screech and probably thrash around to get out immediately. don't worry though, he'd let you give him piggy-back rides eventually, after a lot of begging. oh and if you like to wear heels? he's not gonna tell you what you can and can't wear but it's gonna be pretty funny when he looks half your size.
in bed, unlike dazai, he'll fight you for dominance. definitely won't let you have the upper hand without some struggleâ unless you somehow manage to convince him. will be secretly very into it later, he'd rather die than admit it though. but if you're submissive, he'd love that as well. would take the best care of you..âĄ
fyodor wouldn't care much about your height, he wants someone who listens to him and is devoted. if you tease him for being shorter than you, his lips would turn into a straight line and he'd sigh, "so? why would that matter to me?" if you wear heels, no you don't. he claims you're already taller than him, there's no need for you to become even more tall. guess he's not as unaffected he said he was, huh?
during sex, as much as it pains me to say this, fyodor will not let you have control no matter what. he desires control control and power, and he will not give that up. do not try to overpower and pin him down, I promise you the punishment is not worth it. of course, he'll let you ride him time to timeâ you may be on top, but he has the control and he sets the pace; don't get it twisted..âĄ
nikolai is a pretty big guy himself, so he's not gonna mind if you're really tall. he's gonna love it actually, you're the perfect size for him. you two would be the power couple of yokohama, just imagine terrorizing sigma together with him (ă
êáŽê)á°
he's gonna be pretty flexible in the bedroom, of course. he's almost into anything and everything. not afraid of letting you take the lead ! will take his revenge and pin you down later though, so better keep an eye out for that..âĄ
©sachiyohâ do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciatedâĄ
#chiyoh talks â#ᄫᥠmsg! á„«áĄ#âč from âč đ° anon#bsd x reader#bsd x reader fluff#bsd fluff#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs x reader#bsd smut#bsd x reader smut#dazai x reader#chuuya x reader#fyodor x reader#nikolai x reader#dazai fluff#chuuya fluff#fyodor fluff#nikolai fluff#dazai x reader fluff#chuuya x reader fluff#fyodor x reader fluff#nikolai x reader fluff#drabble <3#bsd imagines#bsd headcanons#bsd x reader headcanons#ౚৠâ archiveă»
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club w/ wooyoung
wrote this after an interaction with mean girls at my local clubâŠ
wooyoung has been gone for a little over two minutes now - the bar must be busy - leaving you alone with an almost passed out san
normally you wouldnât mind since you were well practiced in the art or staring down men to the point where they would dare approach you
yâknow, stare into their eyes with a disgusted look for long enough for them to grow just a little self conscious
thereâs only one man itâs ever not worked on, but heâs your boyfriend now
sometimes wooyoung can be about as good reading the room as san is holding his liqueur - bad⊠with a capital B
but the issue tonight isnât men, itâs women
more specifically, a group of girls standing just a couple of meters to your right
theyâre pretty, you think to yourself, but the way they point and laugh warps your perception of them until all you see is a group of mean girls
mean isnât pretty
you turn to look at the dazed man next to you
he seems to have taken an interest in the way the lights swing around the room, following them like a cat with a laser
âsan,â you grab his attention, âcan you see those girls over there?â
you point him in the direction of them with a tilt of your head, and his eyes follow slowly
he nods, stumbling a little as the movement makes him lose his balance
you catch him and push him against the wall so he doesnât have to focus so hard on staying upright
âare they talking about me?â you ask, âtheyâre laughing at something in this direction but i donât know if iâm being paranoid.â
san comically narrows his eyes at the girls, looking like they do in the cartoons, and you let out a small giggle
and then san nods
âthey keep looking at you,â he clarifies, âone of them just took a photo, i think.â
your furrow your brows
âwhat?â
âyeah,â he angles his head so he can see the girlâs phone screen, âsomething about your back must be really interesting to them. theyâre sending it someone on snapchatâŠâ
the thought alone makes your heart freeze in place, and you immediately stop having fun
the smile on your face drops completely, and the weird little sidestep dance you always do at the club comes to a stand still
a drunk hand finds the top of your head - a little too hard, you must say, but youâd never tell san that - and gently tousles your hair
âtheyâre just jealous,â he slurs his words with a smile, and although theyâre sincere you find it hard to believe
because theyâre all standing there in their tight black t-shirts that accentuate their chest and baggy cargo pants that fall perfectly from their hips
and when you look down at yourself all you can see is your black corset that makes your tits look great, but sometimes reveals too much back fat for your liking, and your tiny black mini skirt that now you look at it, makes your tummy bulge over the top in a way that you hadnât noticed until now
your distressed tights that you normally love now look messy under your critical gaze, and the knee high black socks that go under them just look weird
and all of that is without even mentioning your platform trainers that are chunkier than any other trainer youâve ever seen, and add at least two inches onto your height
you look weird, you decide as you study yourself
âwhatâs got the prettiest girl in the club so down in the dumps?â you boyfriend asks loudly as he finally arrives back to your tiny group with his and your drinks in his hands
the laughter that comes from the group of girls punctuates his sentence cruelly, and you shrink into yourself more
you donât particularly want to talk about it, but thankfully, with san in the state that heâs in, you donât have to
âwhereâs my drink?â san pouts, ignoring wooyoungâs question completely
âi got you one like five minutes ago,â he didnât, but san is too drunk to remember that, âlook,â wooyoung points to an empty plastic cup on the floor, âyou had a single vodka coke, remember?â
san is, somehow, satisfied with the lie and goes back to chilling against the wall with a dopey smile
wooyoung smiles fondly at his friend before turning to you with a more serious look
ânow, back to you, baby,â he passes you a cup of pink liquid which you immediately start gulping down
it only takes a few seconds before wooyoung snatches it out of your hands with a frown
âokay, so thatâs concerning,â he grumbles, âtell me whatâs wrong.â
you shrug, but your eyes betray you
wooyoung must notice the way your eyes flicker over to the group for a few seconds and his gaze decides to follow yours
the girls are giggling, as usual, but this time you make eye contact with one of them
she looks you up and down before frowning and raising her hands in a âwhat have i done?â motion
and then like clockwork, the frown cracks and they all start laughing again
you stare as the one that had looked you up and down moments prior uses her finger to instruct one of the others to do the same
you frown
âi wouldnât normally say this, but theyâre fucking bitches,â wooyoung whispers as he reaches a hand out to touch your shoulder, âdo you want me to say something?â
you shake your head - it would be embarrassing for you if you sent your boyfriend to tell them off for you
even if they are acting like bullies in a playgroundâŠ
âno, woo,â you shake your head and put on your bravest smile for him which you can tell he doesnât believe, âjust stay here with me, hm?â
he sighs and nods before shuffling the two of you around until his body is blocking yours from the groupâs vision
but it doesnât do much, not when you can still hear their laughter over the music
you try and let it go, but itâs all you can hear
the song could be anything in the world but you wouldnât know
your mind is still racing and you can still hear them and you just canât find it in you to have fun anymore
you look at your boyfriend, trying not to think too hard about the sympathetic look on his face
âactually, can we just go?â
you feel bad about your request, but youâd feel worse if you were to stay and ruin the atmosphere for the two guys who would otherwise be having a great time
wooyoung nods and puts a hand on sanâs shoulder to pull him off of the wall
with one arm around his friendâs shoulder, he wraps the other around your waist and the three of you begin to walk
itâs slow, with sanâs stumbling and the insane crowd of people, but before you know it, youâre almost out of there
but just as you reach the door, wooyoung stops
âshoot, i forgot to put the drinks down somewhere,â he unravels his arms and pushes the two of you over to a wall, âstay here, iâll be back soon, alright?â
you nod and watch as he weaves his way through the crowd
you lose him within a few seconds, and decide to focus your attention on san instead
no doubt heâd be sleeping on your couch tonight, you giggle to yourself
itâs always an experience when he spends the night at yours; more often than not you wake up to him asleep on the floor of your room rather than the sofa you left him on
one time youâd even found him cuddled up to wooyoung in his sleep
you still have the photos on your phone as blackmail
the thought cheers you up a little
not much, but enough to bring a small smile to your face
a smile that quickly vanishes when wooyoung comes storming out of the room, a sheepish look on his face and a wet patch down his front
he grabs both of you and without wasting a second, drags you out of the door and onto the cold street
âwhat happened?â you ask as he hails a taxi
one pulls up and wooyoung quickly tells the driver your address before the three of you climb in
he sits next to you and takes your hand in his
âwooyoung, what happened?â you repeat
san gags as the car starts to move
you ignore it - san may not be able to handle drinking, but heâs not (yet) thrown up from it before - and keep your attention firmly on your boyfriend
he shrugs, ânothing muchâŠâ
you give him a look that lets him know you donât believe him
he tried to wait it out, hoping youâll let it go after a few seconds, but you donât
âfine,â he concedes, âi spilt my drink on one of the girls, purely by accident, and she threw hers backâŠâ
âwooyoung!â you slap his chest gently
he just chuckles and puts his hand over your own, pinning it to the sticky wet patch on his chest
âthey deserved it, hun.â
#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez oneshot#ateez fluff#ateez scenarios#ateez fic#ateez headcanons#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung fluff
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Tbh at this point you should just make your own webcomic app/website because it would probably be 100 times better than whatever going on with webtoon right now.
hahaha it wouldn't tho, sorry đ
Here's the fundamental issue with webcomic platforms that a lot of people just don't realize (and why they're so difficult to run successfully):
Storage costs are incredibly expensive, it's why so many sites have limitations on file sizes / page sizes / etc. because all of those images and site info have to be stored somewhere, which costs $$$.
Maintenance costs are expensive and get more so as you grow, you need people who are capable of fixing bugs ASAP and managing the servers and site itself
Financially speaking, webcomics are in a state of high supply, low demand. Loads of artists are willing to create their passion projects, but getting people to read them and pay for them is a whole other issue. Demand is high in the general sense that once people get attached to a webtoon they'll demand more, but many people aren't actually willing to go looking for new stuff to read and depend more on what sites feed them (and what they already like). There are a lot of comics to go around and thus a lot of competition with a limited audience of people willing to actually pay for them.
Trying to build a new platform from the ground up is incredibly difficult and a majority of sites fail within their first year. Not only do you have to convince artists to take a chance on your platform, you have to convince readers to come. Readers won't come if there isn't work on the platform to read, but artists won't come if they don't think the site will be worth it due to low traffic numbers. This is why the artists with large followings who are willing to take chances on the smaller sites are crucial, but that's only if you can convince them to use the site in favor of (or alongside) whatever platform they're using already where the majority of their audience lies. For many creators it's just not worth the time, energy, or risk.
Even if you find short-term success, in the long-term there are always going to be profit margins to maintain. The more users you pull in, the more storage is used by incoming artists, the more you have to spend on storage and server maintenance costs, and that means either taking the risk at crowdfunding (ex. ComicFury) or having to resort to outsider investments (ex. Tapas). Look at SmackJeeves, it used to be a titan in the independent webcomic hosting community, until it folded over to a buyout by NHN and then was pretty much immediately shuttered due to NHN basically turning it into a manwha scanlation site and driving away its entire userbase. And if you don't get bought out and try your hand at crowdfunding, you may just wind up living on a lifeline that could cut out at any moment, like what happened to Inkblazers (fun fact, the death of Inkblazers was what kicked off the cultural shift in Tapas around 2015-16 when all of IB's users migrated over and brought their work with them which was more aimed towards the BL and romancee drama community, rather than the comedy / gag-a-day culture that Tapas had made itself known for... now you deadass can't tell Tapas apart from a lot of scanlation sites because it got bought out by Kakao and kept putting all of its eggs into the isekai/romance drama basket.)
Right now the mindset in which artists and readers are operating is that they're trying way, way too hard to find a "one size fits all" site. Readers want a place where they can find all their favorite webtoons without much effort, artists wants a place where they can post to an audience of thousands, and both sides want a community that will feel tight-knit. But the reality is that you can't really have all three of those things, not on one site. Something always winds up having to be sacrificed - if a site grows big enough, it'll have to start seeking more funding while also cutting costs which will result in features becoming paywall'd, intrusive ads, creators losing their freedom, and/or outsider support which often results in the platform losing its core identity and alienating its tight-knit community.
If I had to describe what I'm talking about in a "pick one" graphic, it would look something like this:
(*note: this is mostly based on my own observations from using all of these sites at some point or another, they're not necessarily entirely accurate to the statistical performance of each site, I can only glean so much from experience and traffic trackers LMAO that said I did ask some comic pals for input and they were very helpful in helping me adjust it with their own takes <3).
The homogenization of the Internet has really whipped people into submission for the "big sites" that offer "everything", but that's never been the Internet, it relies on being multi-faceted and offering different spaces for different purposes. And we're seeing that ideology falter through the enshittification of sites like Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, etc. where users are at odds with the platforms because the platforms are gutting features in an attempt to satisfy shareholders whom without the platforms would not exist. Like, most of us aren't paying money to use social media sites / comic platform sites, so where else are they gonna make the necessary funds to keep these sites running? Selling ad space and locking features behind paywalls.
And this is especially true for a lot of budding sites that don't have the audience to support them via crowdfunding but also don't have the leverage to ask for investments - so unless they get really REALLY lucky in EITHER of those departments, they're gonna be operating at a loss, and even once they do achieve either of those things there are gonna be issues in the site's longevity, whether it be dying from lack of growing crowdfunding support or dying from shareholder meddling.
So what can we do?
We can learn how to take our independence back. We don't have to stop using these big platforms altogether as they do have things to offer in their own way, particularly their large audience sizes and dipping into other demographics that might not be reachable from certain sites - but we gotta learn that no single site is going to satisfy every wish we have and we have to be willing to learn the skills necessary to running our own spaces again. Pick up HTML/CSS, get to know other people who know HTML/CSS if you can't grasp it (it's me, I can't grasp it LOL), be willing to take a chance on those "smaller sites" and don't write them off entirely as spaces that can be beneficial to you just because they don't have large numbers or because they don't offer rewards programs. And if you have a really polished piece of work in your hands, look into agencies and publishing houses that specialize in indie comics / graphic novels, don't settle for the first Originals contract that gets sent your way.
For the last decade corporations have been convincing us that our worth is tied to the eyes we can bring to them. Instead of serving ourselves, we've begun serving the big guys, insisting that it has to be worth something eventually and that it'll "payoff" simply by the virtue of gambler's fallacy. Ask yourself what site is right for you and your work rather than asking yourself if your work is good enough for them. Most of us are broke trying to make it work on these sites anyways, may as well be broke and fulfilled by posting in places that actually suit us and our work if we can. Don't define your success by what sites like Webtoons are enforcing - that definition only benefits them, not you.
#my favorite out of these is comicfury because it gives you the most control out of all of them#and you can offer monetization tools like ads and patreon links#it also offers super easy tools to help build your own site if you're new to that#it's as close to ârunning your own siteâ as comic hosting can get#but you can also learn how to run your own site if you want undeniably full control without fear of the platform host shuttering#also look into collectives like SpiderForest!#they basically operate as a co-op where people host their work with them and get ad opportunities#but you have to apply to get in#ama#ask me anything#anon ama#anon ask me anything#webcomic tips
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2dmax commissions info spring 2024
last updated april 12th
to place an order for a commission, you may PM me; if you prefer, you can also fill out this form or commission me through fiverr.
text and additional info below the readmore.
thanks for reblogging, even if you aren't interest right now!
Packages
These are excellent starting off points for most common commission types. Additional specificity and complexity can be purchased. All basic packages are artist's medium of choice, include simple backgrounds, minimal/no props. All include full color, fully finished works.
Standard Illustration - $80
Artistic and expressive "full body" illustration (roughly 75-100% of figure).
Mini Illustration - $50
Chibi, portrait, half body, icons, and the like.
Couple's Illustration - $100
A duo version of the above styles. Doesn't have to be romantic couples - friends, enemies, family, pet & owner, or other pairs and duos OK.
Multipose, Reference, and Group Lineups - $120+
For commissions that require either multiple poses of the same character, groups, more than two characters generally. Reference pages can include close-ups and detailed shots.
Experimental Commissions
18"x24" Handmade Poster - $200
artistâs choice of medium only. typically acrylic/mixed media. always on extra large poster sized paper. great way to celebrate your favorite OCs or canon characters!
paper clay figurine - $100
chibi humanoids/animals/ferals/anthros only. between 2"-3" cubed, give or take. armature wire, paper clay, paint, and varnish. these are delicate art items, not toys; not suitable for children. includes a photoset at no additional cost.
standalone comics page - $200
2-5 panels, 1-2 characters, 1 location. artistâs choice of medium only. can be OCs or canon characters.
wildcard commission - $???
submit your request and your budget; results are up to the artist.
pay what you want means get what you get!
hereâs what to expect when you order:
Send me a PM with basic info; what you would like me to draw, your budget, and if you have a deadline.
I will ask a few questions to be able to build up the concept. I will also give you my e-mail, where you can send me further info and any references youâd like to share!
Your sketch is typically ready within a week; Iâll always update you on my progress. After we agree on the sketch, payment will be due. After itâs paid, I will give you an estimate for when I will be finished with your piece.
Your finished artwork will be e-mailed to you. I am also happy to mail physical art at cost!
terms and conditions:
Your commission is for personal use; icons, roleplaying, in your blog theme, as a wallpaper, or to print out and tape to your fridge. Commercial use can be negotiated.
You must credit me on the platform used if reposted. Always OK to post to ToyHouse; my username is 2dmax there. On instagram and all other platforms where I donât have an account, please credit my instagram @/maximumgroove.
You may not use my art to promote anything hateful or illegal. You may not claim it as anyone elseâs creation. You may not use it for commercial uses, or to edit, adapt, trace, or directly reference, without getting permission. I may use my art in my own promotional material.
✠navigation desktop view â
F.A.Q. browse my finished art â
sketches â
other media look at buyables & adoptables fan art â
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browse my archive visit my toyhou.se â
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#art commissions#artists on tumblr#manga art#manga style art#anime art#nostaligiacore#webcore#furry art#traditional art#digital art#artist alley
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