#want to support me by buying a print online? fuck off just print out the picture /j

[five-crows-in-a-trenchcoat]

The stupid loon print, ‘Shot on Sight for Entering the Empoyees Only Area’ is finally finished after much suffering. After materials cost and exhibition tax, if this thing sells i will make a whopping fortune of eight whole dollars after this four-day effort so yippee

[sunsafewriting]

AU. Ava starts a dumb YouTube channel where she makes complicated recipes badly. Maybe people show up for that, but they kind of stick around for her conversations with her roommate - who stays off-screen. Mostly.

-

chapter 3 excerpt:

Autopilot gets Ava as far as the bathroom, but then she’s stuck staring at the towels on the rack: one is navy, and the other is orange and printed with a bunch of little frogs. And Ava has to grab the right one. For Beatrice. Which is. The. 

(Any moment now, her brain is going to kick into gear again, and she's going to manage to seem totally normal.)

Which is the navy one . Boom. Nailed it. 

She skids back out into the living room, and is confronted once more with the image of Beatrice in the entryway, flushed from her run, her bare arm raised to tug a strand of wet hair out of her eyes.  

Brain in gear, Ava reminds herself sternly. Brain in gear, brain —

"Is something —" 

"Nope!" 

Ava practically throws the towel at Beatrice and then clasps her hands together firmly behind her back — not her smoothest move ever, but a worthwhile investment, because it stops her from doing anything stupid. 

(Except all the stupid things that Ava is thinking of are starting to feel smarter by the second. Like, Nobel Prize-winning, MacArthur Genius Grant-getting, world-changingly smart.) 

Beatrice wipes away the worst of the rain in a fashion that is completely utilitarian and somehow all the more mesmerising for it. Efficiency is hot . Except that it means this will be over quickly. Ideally, then, Beatrice should be incredibly efficient but achieve nothing, so the two of them can stay here forever. 

"Are you just going to stand there and watch me?" Beatrice asks. 

"No," Ava denies. She’s a good friend, a respectful friend. She’s such a good friend that her eyes have not even once gone to — nevermind. "Um, yeah."

Beatrice pauses, the towel twisted in her hands. She looks at Ava, just briefly, and it’s not a reprimanding look or an irritated look or even a confused look. In fact, Ava can’t decode Beatrice’s expression at all. Maybe, if she was operating at full capacity, she’d stand a chance, but as it is, too many of Ava’s mental resources are being rerouted elsewhere. 

"I'm going to go have a shower. Thank you for the towel." Beatrice points to the counter. "You might want to get your phone."

"Huh?"

"It’s buzzing."

Oh. So it is. 

Beatrice’s shoulder just barely brushes Ava’s as she passes by her and heads down the hall. 

Ava counts herself through a few deep breaths — not normally something she does unless she’s panicking, and she’s not panicking exactly — and forces all systems back online. 

She picks up her phone. A dozen questions are visible in the banner: who was that girl, why was she there, are they friends, is Ava dating her, is she single, is she that much taller than Ava or is it the angle, and on and on and on.

Jesus. 

At least it was a Live, which means it’s disappeared off the internet now; at least Beatrice was only in a tiny part of the frame; at least only a fraction of her subscribers were actually watching. 

Since she started this whole YouTube thing, Beatrice has been nothing but supportive and encouraging. She got Ava around a copyright strike so that she could still include a bit from Gossip Girl that was absolutely essential for a joke; she taught Ava how to write and add closed captions; she’s helping her research which camera to buy to improve the quality of her footage without cleaning out her savings. 

And all Beatrice has ever asked in return is that Ava respects her privacy. She hasn’t even asked , not in so many words; she's just trusted Ava with that responsibility. 

And Ava has already fucked it up. She should’ve done the Live in her room, or realised that the storm meant that Beatrice might be back early, or —

She should probably also wait until Beatrice is done with her shower to apologise to her, but the idea of holding out for another five minutes makes her stomach churn, and Ava’s already burned through all her self-control for the day. 

[rosemary-crane]

Pt. 1 of my (very belated) chaotic corset making process

so way back when in August 2023, I finally got the motivation to make a corset for historical costume purposes, which I’ve been wanting to do for several years now. Most(and not just more) specifically, I wanted a corset that would have been considered fashionable in ~1875-80, especially in 1879, had an elegant silhouette, and was historically accurate.

There’s this one person on Etsy- ateliersylph- and they’ve got a ton of patterns taken from extant antique corsets they own, as well as some other fun sewing things like corset hooks, so I scrawled through their antique pattern offerings to find something that got as close to my specifications as possible. Unfortunately, there isn’t a corset that they dated to specifically the years I was looking for, but Ref P looked close to what I wanted: it had the curvy silhouette, wasn’t too curvy for my liking but still wasn’t too small proportionally for my hips, extended to ~just below the hip, spoon front-opening busk, was versatile enough to be used for more than just one decade in the Victorian era, and didn't support to only under the nipple. The spoon busk meant that it had to have been made in/after 1873, as that was when that style of busk was invented, and it fell out of fashion by the Edwardian era, so it should probably have been made between 1873- around 1900, and more likely closer to 1873 than 1900. It also didn’t have garters tabs attached to it, which became a thing closer to the Edwardian era. Thus, this was the closest pattern they had for what I was looking for, even without them having a date for Ref P’s original corset. I chose the pdf file option instead of a paper pattern to save money.

I also decided to go with a white-greige-light blue color scheme, so I got some white lace and bias binding and coutil, greige lace and cotton sateen(because silk would be even more expensive), and blue silk thread and ribbons for the back lacing, flossing, and decoration. I won’t lie, Bernadette banner’s adventures in ✨the joys of corset making✨ /s definitely inspired my choice of velvet ribbon threaded through lace as trim. Between the 3 commercially available options for boning nowadays, I (1) didn’t want to use plastic so synthetic whalebone was off the table, and (2) getting a smooth edge on the cut ends of steel boning was much simpler and cheaper than spiral steel boning, which needs caps and a cap-setting tool. However, Like A Fool, I didn’t remember that maybe, just MAYBE, I should have waited until I was able to print out the properly-sized pattern and measure to see what size bones I needed(because there are two different widths used, Apparently) before just purchasing a size that I thought was right, but. ://// so that was fun and not something I realized until I had gotten to the point of actually sewing the bone channels on all the panels, but I’ll come back to that later in another post. I also decided that because I couldn’t see the spoon busks in comparison to my body irl, it would be safer to buy a straight busk and just bend it for the curve, and that I was also going to use small-ass floral metal stamps on the busk loops because busks with decorative patterns on the loops were all sold out online to my knowledge :| this all happened over the course of a week where I was looking up materials online and debating whether spending all that money was worth it, until I said fuck it, I’m gonna make it, and bought everything, which took until ~late August/early September to all arrive. So, to pass the time, I searched up all the YouTube tutorials I had watched before of historical costubers making their own corsets for tips and watched them all again, and also went through ateliersylph’s blog posts for instructions and other resources, most of which are in French so get a google translator if u can’t read it like me lol. I finally got the pattern printed out after like, a week or 2, so after that, I was cutting and pasting it together irl, making mockups, etc. until everything else arrived. :D

[blimpixels]

To counter your argument of there being "too much piracy" as you stated on twitter, if it wasn't for piracy there would be so much media out there that'd lost forever. I'm surprised you feel that way about this especially these days as we witness multi-billionaire companies nuke different media off the face of the earth that wouldn't survive if it wasn't for piracy. A lot of cultural contributions and their value would be lost forever. To use an example of the library of alexandria, Eratosthenes' most important work Geographika would not have survived at all if it was not for the fact that Strabo preserved many fragments of his work through quotations. While this isn't necessarily the same as piracy, the core concept is still the same. We are witnessing attempts at eradicating third spaces and what they offer for free to their users such as libraries, for example through censorship and defunding. Piracy is becoming more relevant and even more important than ever before, specifically because of the rot capitalism forces on society. I can understand why you might feel that there's too much piracy going around, but please consider why that might be and the importance of preserving culture and the cultural items that come with it.

“so you hate waffles?”

This isn’t countering an argument I made, it’s making up an argument I made because you have worms in your brain and you can’t read the word “piracy” without going on a tirade about digital preservation when they aren’t actually the same thing, despite the overlap.

Maybe ask me about the context of my tweets before going on anon and sending me essays about shit I also already talk about. I could’ve been talking about anything.

Obviously I know and care about digital and physical media preservation, I tweeted that literally coming home from the library yesterday. But that’s not the same as piracy.

Maybe I was talking about how hundreds of artists and SWs personal subscription sites are being regularly stolen and consistently updated and the creators can do nothing about it short of shutting down their patreons and OFs. Obviously it sucks that people even have to have middlemen like this to be financially supported online but people stealing their content isn’t preservation, it’s theft.

As a creator it pisses me off when cumbrained, porn addicted consumers feel entitled to people’s creative and sexual labor. Even when it’s only $5 a month to actually support them.

You should’ve asked me what originally prompted my tweet. I was in a comic book store yesterday and I felt guilt after seeing how full some of the shelves were and seeing books that I’ve read online for free that I could’ve bought and supported the creators with. I try to buy physical media when I can because I hate how streaming services and gaming companies have a disgusting amount of needless control over the content they just so happen to “own”. I’ve talked about this before.

But then of course you’d retort “but most of that money doesn’t go to the creators, it goes to people on top” and I’d say “so what?” I’m not talking about who fully gets the money (though it’s very important), I’m talking about people taking from modern media producers without giving anything back. It’s an unfair exchange. Even if comics were 100% owned by the people creating and printing the books, piracy would still be just as big. Because it’s not about “preservation” for most people, it’s about getting content for free.

Being anticapitalist doesn’t mean not compensating people for their work.

Of course, opinions are nuanced and that tweet wasn’t. But it’s a tweet. They aren’t nuanced. It was barely a sentence. So next time hop off anon and own your words like an actual human being. This isn’t even everything I want to say about piracy and media preservation but I have stuff to do today.

I’m glad you’re passionate about this. It’s important. I actually agree with you on most of the things you said. But also shut the fuck up.

[pseudo-apollo]

Get Fucked, Mercenary Art Studio

I'm not one for drama, I swear, but as someone who enjoys going to comic conventions, buying art that looks cool, and spreading awareness, I can't help myself in this particular instance.

I was recently at a con, and while perusing the wonderful art booths, came across one with a cool trio of art of Venom, Carnage, and Spider-Man. Classic stuff. I took a closer look and naturally started flipping through the book of this artist's other work and noticed something off. Like...I immediately knew that at least 95% was AI-generated. It wasn't even like they'd touched up some AI-generated stuff. No, it still had all the hallmarks. Creepily asymmetrical eyes, incomplete patters/shapes (great example was looking at a Captain America piece where a star was missing two whole points...), and just that general very surreal look that a lot of AI-generated art has.

But hey, I try to give people the benefit of the doubt, even when it is painfully obvious what's going on.

So I take note of the name on the booth, Mercenary Art Studio, and do a little digging when I'm finished for the day at the con and have some down time. It's easy to find the online presence, and despite what the name might suggest (or made me think, personally) it appears to just be one artist, not multiple working under a single name. It looks like the artist has a Twitter (@mercenary_art), Facebook, Discord, Twitch, website, everything.

Looking at the website, this artist is peddling NFTs (still? I thought we collectively decided we were done with that), but more importantly, on Twitter, many art pieces are clearly tagged with #aiart. Well, at least they're not trying to be subtle. Even some of the ones being sold as NFTs are tagged as #aiart. So not only are they selling this stolen art at the convention as prints, but online as NFTs. I would expect no less.

Now, I say all this knowing that this artist only has 7,195 followers on Twitter (at the time of this post), but this is utterly despicable. For someone profiting off stolen artwork to claim to be an "artist" is disgusting. Doing this does not make you an artist. To claim that you are an artist, and then to profit from it makes you a lowlife. Lazy, talentless, and scummy.

I know we saw this coming with the rise of and accessibility to AI art-generators. I know this probably doesn't come as a surprise to any reading this, but having seen it invade convention space, I wanted to put a warning out there. This isn't necessarily about this singular person in particular, but about a larger trend we will undoubtedly be seeing over the next few years.

So please, don't buy anything from Mercenary Art Studio, make sure no one around you does either, but more importantly:

Please be careful and critical when buying art from conventions. I can't image Mercenary Art is the only one doing it, but at least they're not even trying to hide it (...yet).

There are so many talented, devoted artists out there who make the art that they sell, have spent years on their craft and hours on their pieces. As more and more people try to capitalize on stolen art, I feel it is more important than ever to support those hardworking artists. So please, support artists, show that we won't accept AI-generated bullshit. Show that we value humanity and hard work. Thank you.

Tl;dr I was at a convention and a booth there was selling AI-generated "art". Please don't support people peddling stolen art, instead support the human artists who devote time and energy and love to their craft.

[tarriecat]

I'm sure smarter or more assertive people than me have like, good takes about the OGL situation, but here's my personal plans/perspective, mostly just hoping to reach some of the younger folks who started with 5e.

(This is just from a hobby perspective, I can't speak to the difficulty of being a third-party creator or an actual player and those folks have so much my sympathy for such a shitty situation.)

So, Back In My Day, I started on D&D 3.5, which was great. Not perfect, very fiddly, but we liked it. Then Wizards released D&D 4e, which my friends and me (and a lot of other people) didn't like, and they stopped releasing new content for 3.5.

And we kept on playing 3.5 anyway. Because we had the books and we wanted to. So if Wizards is going into another round of being kind of crap? Build up what you need to keep playing what you want to play.

If you can afford it, get HARD COPIES of the books you like. (Thriftbooks has copies of most 5e books, I'd recommend starting there because we don't want to give Wizards more money when they're doing a cash grab, but if you buy new, support your local game store.) And while I'm not gonna outright endorse piracy, I'd be lying if I said I didn't have an external hard drive full of pdfs in college, so, you do you. If you have extra disposable income, maybe pick up an extra used copy of the PHB for when someone else needs one.

Start exploring NOW what resources your gaming group might need. Assume any online resource with D&D content COULD go down, or get locked behind a paywall, and plan accordingly. Export your character sheets. Get some cute analog dice. Screencap and print off things you can't get elsewhere. Maybe make a shared Google Drive or Dropbox folder. Get your resources under YOUR OWN control.

They can choose to be capitalist dickwads. And you can choose to stop giving them your money. There's lots of resources out there for things you can play that aren't D&D, and I play a lot of those too, but you know what, D&D is cool, and if you wanna keep playing D&D, keep playing D&D. Welcome to the ranks of the elder nerds who keep playing the game they love after the publisher has decided to leave them out to dry. Build your stockpile, get control of what you need, and fuck Hasbro.

[leggything]

Package Notification Pt.1

Package Notification

The subject line caught my attention as is flashed in the corner of my monitor. I clicked on the notification and read that a delivery had arrived at my apartment and would be held at the front desk until I was able to retrieve it. I wasn’t expecting anything but quickly put it out of my mind, it was probably a free trial I forgot to cancel or something. I deleted the email and went back to the report I had been drafting, hitting the back button on my phone a couple of times to replay the last few seconds of the podcast I had been listening to.

I left work a bit early. It was Friday and I wanted to beat the crowds on the train home. Unfortunately I wasn’t quite early enough to find a seat so by the time I walked through the door of my building I was only thinking about my bed.

The desk attendant perked up as I stepped in, “Hey Andy,” he said “I was just sorting the mail and a package came for you. Let me quick grab it.”

“Oh thanks so much Sean,” I said, pulling my headphones out of ear, “I would have totally forgotten.”

“No problem dude,” Sean replied as he rummaged behind the desk. He was a sweet kid, just out of college. His family was close the folks that owned our building so he usually came back to help run things over summers.

“And— here you are!” He said, as he popped back into view, blowing away a stray curl that had fallen in front of his eyes, “see you around!”

“Thanks again Sean, happy Friday!” I said, waving as I opened the door to the stairwell.

I turned the package over in my hands as I climbed the three flights to the apartment. It wasn’t a meal delivery kit or a pack of razors as I had suspected, just an unassuming grey plastic package with a normal UPS label. No return address for some reason. After fumbling for my key I unlocked the door, set my bag down and slipped off my shoes. Friday at last. It felt good to kick my shoes off after standing for so long.

Package still in hand I went to the couch and tore open its grey plastic as I sat down. Inside the bag my hands felt smooth woven fabric and something else that was stiffly textured. Out of the bag came an embroidered tunic and, as they unrolled in my hand, a pair of soft grey footed tights. My face flushed as I realised what I had received. A ballet costume.

I felt a mix of confusion and excitement. I certainly would have remembered if I had ordered something like this. I loved ballet, the beautiful precision of movement, the romance of the storylines, but really I was in it for the dancers. I loved watching them move, muscular yet flexible, lithe and powerful. The way their costume tights hugged every curve of their calves and thighs, squeezing each cheek of their powerful asses and the curve of their pronounced bulges, it was heaven. I definitely didn’t place the order for this costume, but it certainly didn’t come to me by mistake.

Reluctantly setting the tights and tunic down on the table, I glanced into the package again, looking to see if there was anything else. No shoes or dance belt, but there was a small piece of paper. I reached back in and pulled out the rough piece of card-stock. A note was printed on in flowing script:

Hope this turns your dream into reality.

x

Now I was nervous. I wasn’t exactly open about my, ahem, love of ballet. My closest friends and previous partners didn’t even know, and yet someone had anonymously sent gear to my home which meant my big secret wasn’t as secret as I thought. I pulled out my phone, there was one person who I had connected with online about ballet stuff, but they definitely didn’t know my address and I hadn’t heard for them in a week or so. Nonetheless I sent out a text:

Hey, I just got some ballet gear in the mail. You didn’t send me anything did you?

I was a little nervous and needed to chill out so I went into the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. Taking the first sip, I glanced back out to where the ballet outfit sat on the table. The anonymous package thing was weird, but it was also definitely hot. And though I loved looking at ballet dancers and often had fantasies about what it would be like to be one, I had never actually gotten up the courage to actually take a class or buy a pair of tights.

Taking another sip of my beer, I walked back out to the couch. I set down my beer and picked up the tunic. It looked and felt well made, different shades of gold and yellow thread in a brocade foliage design against white backing. It was short and tailored in at the waist, probably a bit snug on me, but on a slim dancer it would sit perfectly above the waist - emphasising their toned abdomen and, when facing away from the audience, their powerful glutes. I was getting a little turned on thinking about it. Whether I fit or not, I had to try it on.

I unbuttoned my shirt and slipped off my slacks, tossing them on the couch along with my socks. I hesitated a bit before taking off my underwear, the outfit hadn’t come with a dance belt, but I figured it’s be better to have a vpl than underwear lines. I was half hard already, even if I had a dance belt it probably would have still looked awkward. The soft fabric of the tights brushed against my bare legs as I picked them up off the table and held them up by the suspenders. At least they’d feel sexy to wear, even if I wasn’t quite fit enough to fill them out very well.

Sitting down on the couch I slid my leg into the grey tights, wiggling my toes into the seam at the bottom of the foot. They tingled a bit as I pulled them up over my calves and thighs, the soft tight fabric rubbing against the hair on my legs. As I pulled them up over my crotch they held my balls tight against me and pinned my now full erection against my belly. So much for a dance belt! Pulling the suspenders over my shoulders, I was greeted by the surprising sensation of the back seam of the tights snuggling up in between my ass cheeks. I didn’t have much of a butt to speak of, but somehow the tights still held tight to what little I had.

The tights ended just below my chest, and though I definitely didn’t have the ballet dancer build I still enjoyed seeing and feeling the uniform texture of grey fabric from my abdomen to my feet. I ran my hands along my legs, feeling the weave of the tights thrum with every touch, and my cock straining against the fabric.

I pulled my mind away from the hypnotic sexy feel of the tights, a little upset at myself that I hadn’t tried dressing up like this earlier. But I still had the tunic to put on. I wasn’t sure if I should have put something under it, but the lining was surprisingly soft and breathable against my skin. I stood up, slid my arms into the sleeves, and began hooking the fasteners that went up the front. The waist wasn’t as snug as I had feared and the structure of the garment helped straighten my posture, encouraging me to stand a bit taller than the hunch my desk job had trained me into.

Hooking the last fastener under my chin I looked down and realising I had come to stand with my heels together and my toes turned out, in what I knew to be “1st position.” And as I dropped my arms they fell nicely open and rounded at my sides, allowing my chest to open up and my shoulders to rotate backwards in perfect ballet posture. I chuckled a bit to myself, maybe I picked up more from watching so much ballet than I thought.

I tried to imitate the movements I had seen ballet dancers do, not crazy leaps or turns or anything, just pointing the toe out, to the side, to the back. I knew from somewhere they were called “tendus.” I let my arms move out to the side and above my head in time with my feet. I bent into a deep plie, letting my gaze follow my outstretched hand as it traveled out, to the side, overhead, and then started to repeat the same combination on the other side. I probably looked ridiculous trying to imitate the precise movements I had only watched, but it felt wonderful to move in the outfit.

As I continued to try new things, ronde de jambe, fouetté, attitude; I couldn’t remember where I picked up all these names, the costume felt like it fit me better and better. With each breath in my chest filled out the tunic a little better and my arms and shoulders felt stronger and more sure in their positions. Letting a breath out, my abdomen felt more compact and stronger in the long waist of the tights, my core offering steadier and steadier support and balance to my movement.

I moved from attitudes to a combination centred around arabesques, standing strong on one leg while reaching up and out with my upper body and back with the other leg. I took a couple of steps forward and went into the first arabesque, feeling strength and stability pouring into my standing leg, the grey tights stretched against my thighs, hips, and butt as I raised my other leg further up and behind me. My legs felt stronger and stronger as I continued around the room, my tights more snug and supportive as they nestled into the contours of my legs and sunk further between my ass cheeks. To finished the combination I moved to fifth position and took a small plie to lift up onto the balls of my feet, sous sous. Lifting my arms strong and graceful above my head I felt every muscle, from my calves to my core to my triceps working together to keep me balanced and poised. Satisfied, I descended into a plie and rose back up to finish the combination.

I stood there for a moment, relaxing back in first position and then blinked, blinked again. I looked back over at the table where my beer stood abandoned. Outside the window the sky was almost dark, how long had I been dancing, and how had I known how to do all that stuff? Feeling a little out of control I started to undo the top clasp of my tunic when I caught a look at myself in the hall mirror.

I did a double take, it couldn’t be me. I looked down at myself and then back at my reflection firm pecs, toned abs, powerful thighs clad in grey. It was me and fuck I was built. I turned around to see my now glorious ass, each cheek hugged beautifully by my tights, and noticed the cleft that had appeared on my toned calves - visible even though I stood flat footed.

I couldn’t help but touch, partially to make sure it was all real and partially because I was my own wet dream. I ran my hands along my firm legs and my slender waist and started to undo the tunic to check out my upper body. My laser focus while dancing had killed my boner but as I undid the tunic’s clasps I felt myself start to get hard again. It felt different though, still pleasurable but a different kind of pleasure. Breathing heavy with arousal I looked back to the mirror. I could see myself growing, but it wasn’t just my cock’s outline straining against the spandex, it looked and felt like my balls were growing too, my whole crotch swelling up against its spandex prison. The more they grew, the more intense the pleasure became, but it didn’t exactly feel like an erection.

I it felt almost like a balloon blowing up - a balloon in my crotch filling with anticipation and pleasure. Looking down, I noticed that as my genitals kept growing they began to lose definition, probably due to how stretched out the fabric was getting. As my bulge strained against my tights, my breathing quickened and my crotch continued to get smoother and rounder. My pelvic pleasure balloon steadily expanded until I felt my whole body was surely going to explode with ecstasy and then suddenly— it stopped. Still breathing heavily and still quite aroused I saw, between my newly muscled legs, the perfect smooth round ballet bulge, maybe a little on the big side, but otherwise the most beautiful tights-clad bulge - exactly like I was wearing a dance belt under my tights.

But I wasn’t wearing a dance belt. Was I? Trepidatiously I reached down to stroke the fabric and was greeted by the most pleasurable sensation. It didn’t feel at all like I was touching a padded dance belt, it felt like I was touching my own skin. I continued to run my hand over my bulge, a little moan escaping my lips as I stroked it’s contours. It felt like touching the sensitive head of my cock, my whole crotch felt as sensitive as the most nerve-laden part of my dick.

Equally aroused and terrified I slipped off the tunic and the straps of my tights. As I began to undress I noticed the wiry patch of hair on my chest had disappeared, and as I slid the tights further down to my waist, saw for the first time my beautiful hairless toned core. I ran my hand along my abdomen, wanting to feel every new inch of my body and also afraid to slide my grey tights any further down. But I couldn’t put it off forever. I slid my tights off the toned globes of my ass, over the deep v of my hips and then, my breath hitching as the tights fabric slid away from my sensitive crotch, revealing my perfectly smooth and hairless crotch.

My crotch looked exactly the same as before the tights came off - a round bulge just like you would see on mannequin. I couldn’t help but touch myself again, the intense pleasure felt slightly different without the silky tights over my sensitive skin. I closed my eyes as I touched myself, it was a completely different sensation than stroking my cock. Instead of moving in fits and spurts of arousal towards the edge of orgasm, this felt like a continually building sensation, like that balloon expanding again - a pleasure that continued to grow and grow with no sign of impending release.

After thoroughly exploring this new sensation I decided to move to the bathroom to get a better look at myself. I pulled my tights back up to my waist, the feeling of their fabric moving over my crotch almost pulling me into another session of dickless masturbation, and padded to the bathroom.

I flicked the light on and, before I could pull my tights back down for inspection, was distracted by my own face. Maybe it was the glow of arousal but I could swear I looked invigorated, more lively. My eyes looked twinklier and my teeth looked brighter, whiter even. As I looked at my reflection, I noticed the stress induced strands of silver in my hair and the dark circles under my eyes start to fade. Before my very eyes my short cropped hair grew out into a perfectly coiffed hairstyle and my jawline softened slightly - the stubble on my chin fading away. I couldn’t help but smile at myself, a smile that would be perfect for stage lights. Stepping back from the mirror and looking at myself, inexplicably standing in first position again, I realised I had been given the perfect body for ballet, a body I could have only dreamed of.

Finally seeing my whole self, I decided the mystery of how it all came to be mine could wait until tomorrow. Tonight I would just enjoy it. I flicked off the bathroom light and retired to my bedroom. The mostly full beer bottle and the work clothes from my earlier self lay abandoned by the couch as I lay in bed, touching and discovering the pleasures of this new body until I fell asleep.

[kittyreading]

Manga Master List: Recommendations and My Personal Wish List

!!//PLEASE READ//!!

Below is every manga from my amazon wishlist I would recommend(as of February 11 2021) with a picture and a 3-5 sentence explanation of what the manga is about. Underneath will also be the number of volumes I have read, the number I own, and it’s status of ongoing or complete and how many volumes it has. This way you can decide for yourself if you think I have read enough of it to give an accurate recommendation.

This list only includes manga you can purchase (including digital purchases) from the wishlist. I decided that I would in fact include my personal amazon manga wishlist here and at the bottom for people to buy THEMSELVES a copy of any of these manga they would like. Keep in mind many of these won’t have volume 1 in the list but you should be able to get to the series page from the list. If a manga shows up on the amazon list that I did not include in this one that is because I have not read enough of them(or any of them) to recommend. Ok? Cool, enjoy the list!!

1. The Girl from the Other side is about a little girl living with a gentleman monster. It is a supernatural mystery with beautiful art.

Own: 0

Read 4

Series: Ongoing at 9 volumes

2. Pumpkin Scissors is a military fantasy about a War Veteran named Randal Oland who joins the pumpkin scissors core to help with war relief and uncover the deep corruption of the government. It is similar in themes to FMA in the sense it appears to be based on a World War, and corruption of government but it more focused on the power of the noble houses in government. There is also a fun science element but it is not as in focus as in FMA. The two but are very very different overall tho. Only 5 volumes were distributed in physical English copies as the publishing company went bankrupt, all others are only available digitally. (I couldn’t get the manga vol. 1 cover to work so the picture above is a poster for the anime)

Own: 0

Read: around 10

Series: Ongoing at 23 volumes

3. Monthly Girls Nozaki-kun is a slice of life about a bunch of highschoolers. Nozaki is the mangaka of a popular Shoujo manga who uses his personal experiences with friends to create his monthly comic series. It is a fun gender stereotype reversal manga with a large cast of both male and female characters (one could be HC as genderfluid but she’s still canonically female at this time) The manga is one of the easiest to read as the panels are mostly in straight down rectangles so the pages are extremely easy to follow and is very funny.

Own: 1

Read: 11

Status: Ongoing at 12 volumes

4. Yu-Gi-Oh! is well known to be about the card game yu-gi-oh, using magic and myths to further the story, HOWEVER, Yu-gi-oh! is the “Season 0″ of the series it is much darker than to be expected and there is no card game. The Yu-gi-oh most are familiar with is Yu-gi-oh Duelist (just found this out myself) and is the Yu-gi-oh you probably already know. There is no overarching plot to this mini series it is just Yugi fucking shit up playing games and destroying some bullies. I have yet to read any of Duelist as of the creation of this post therefore I cannot recommend it :/ 

Own: 5 (1-3 & 6-7)

Read: 7

Status: Completed at 7 volumes

5. The Way of the House Husband is about a former yakuza who gets married and flips his script. He becomes a house husband for his working wife and carries on doing chores and errands while still looking and acting scary unintentionally and getting himself in trouble. It is a slice of life comedy with some adult jokes but is over all extremely funny and pleasant to read.

Own: 0

Read: 2

Status: Ongoing at 7 volumes

6. Hikaru no Go is about a highschool boy who finds a haunted Go board. He meets the ghost who once was a prolific Go player. Together they work to become a world class Go champion meeting new people along the way. This series was cut short due to legal issues with a real Go player and therefore will remain unfinished but the story that is there is golden. It is still one of the most popular manga in Japan.

Own: 0

Read: 5

Status: Complete at 23 Volumes

7. Zatch Bell! This manga is about a teenager named Kiyo who gets sent a young boy with amnesia named Zatch Bell who turns out to be an alien called a momodo. Now the two must battle other momodo in order to understand what happened to Zatch and to make Zatch the new king. Along the way they make many friends and save both the momodo and human worlds. This one is difficult because it is a classic that did not do well in America so the volumes are expensive and the series is unfinished in English. You can only buy 27 of the volumes in English and a few of them are almost impossible to find, however it is well worth the money if you can afford it and it is available online.

Own: 6 (1-5 & 13)

Read: 15

Status: Complete at 33 Volumes only 27 printed in English (you can finish series online)

8. Fullmetal Alchemist is a cult classic most have read it, watched the series, or heard of it at the very least. This is one of the most popular Manga of all time and for good reason. The manga is about 2 brothers Alphonse and Edward on a journey to return their bodies to normal after committing the taboo of human transmutation. The manga has themes of racism, government corruption and manipulation of the military. The versions on my wishlist are the special Fullmetal Editions so they will have a different price point and volume number than the regular volumes or the omnibuses’ 

Own: 12

Read: 12

Status: Complete at 27 Volumes

9. Princess Jellyfish is about a young woman who is sort of an outcast otaku living with 5 other otaku women. She has a deep love for jellyfish as they remind her of her late mother. She meets a beautiful woman who turns out to be a male college student and slowly comes out of her shell making new friends and growing with old ones as well. This manga is very sweet and I really don’t know what else to say haha.

Own: 0

Read: 4

Status: Complete at 17 volumes

10. !!!HUGE TW FOR EATING DISORDERS!!! In Clothes Called Fat is a, oneshot, non romanticizing story of an office woman trying to lose weight and developing several eating disorders in the process. She goes through hardships in relationships and bullying as well. It has a bittersweet ending and should be read with caution but it is beautifully done. Please do not read this if you are under the age 16 at the very youngest there are NSFW moments as well as just generally not being a topic for younger audiences.

Own: No

Read: Yes

Status: Completed one shot

11. My LOVE Story!! Is an adorable Slice of Life shojo about a highschooler named Takeo Gouda, his girlfriend Yamato, and his best friend and hear throb Suna. This series is rather refreshing as the relationship starts pretty much immediately, the best friend is very supportive, and it is focused on Takeo’s personality over looks as he is often compared in manga to a gorilla or bear. It is a generally heart warming story with some emotional side plots. The ending is sort of sudden but it’s really enjoyable.

Own: 6 (1-3,8,10-12)

Read: 13

Status: Completed at 13 Volumes

12. Soul Eater is pretty popular but if you don’t know what it is about it is about a Weapon named Soul and his Meister Maka. They attend a school that teaches them how to defeat people before they turn into Demons, saving the world in the process. Once a weapon eats 100 evil souls and a witches soul they can become the new death Scythe! That is the plot presented, and it of course goes off into a much more complicated storyline. It is super fun and engaging with a fascinating plot near the end.

Own: 5

Read: 15

Status: Completed at 25 Volumes

13. D. Gray-Man is a little complicated. Similarly to Soul Eater D. Gray-Man is a story based around defeating people turned demon and the saving of the world through an organization, however the plot gets very complicated very quickly. The art is some of the most interesting and beautifully fun art I’ve come across and the characters are (so far as I’ve read) all amazing. The story has a lot of christian influence and is one you have to really keep up with to understand but I recommend it regardless!

Own: 10

Read: 10

Status: Ongoing at 27 Volumes

14. One-Punch Man is also very popular and is about a man who becomes so strong he only needs to punch you once to completely annihilate you, and it greatly annoys him. This manga greatly touches on the themes of self worth as Saitama becomes a hero that no one seems to want. The fights are fun and engaging, tho at times can be difficult to read. The art is gorgeous, with some of the most heavily detailed work I have ever seen.

Own: 3

Read: 7

Status: Ongoing at 21 Volumes

15. The Boy and The Beast is the manga adaptation of the movie by the same name. This is a bittersweet story about a boy who finds a family in the land of the beasts and the repercussions of this intermixing. It is sweet and sad and there’s not much else to say, but that it is a beautifully crafted story.

Own: 1

Read: 1 (but I’ve seen the movie and read the light novel)

Status: Complete at 4 Volumes

16. MAR is not a manga I should be recommending as I genuinely don’t think I have read enough of the story to do so but I love it so much I’m going to anyway. MAR is a classic Isekai Shonen, a kid goes through a door into another world and has to fight a war to save it, there is a super fun magic system and some wonderful story building with genuinely enjoyable characters and battles. I am recommending this more based off the anime than the manga itself because it was one of my absolute favorites when I was younger, so take from that what you will! This manga has the same issue Zatch Bell does however, the series did not do amazingly so the volumes can be expensive!

Own: 3

Read: 3

Status: Complete at 15 Volumes

Thank you for your time haha! I hope you liked the list, here is my wishlist again and if you have any questions please let me know!! I will try to keep this master list updated as it and the wishlist will only continue to grow, but I make no promises for doing it often. Making this took me a very long time so I hope you like it!

[rachelthompsonauthor]

What is social proof? It’s a marketing concept that we are all inadvertently, unknowingly contributing to every time we click on, retweet, like, reply or comment, and share any kind of social media, article, or blog post on the net. Technically, social proof, as defined by Sprout Social is:

The concept that people will follow the actions of the masses. The idea is that since so many other people behave in a certain way, it must be the correct behavior.

Social Proof and Me

As an author, social media is a hugely important part of my author platform, as it is for any writer or blogger. This is how we connect with readers now, even before the pandemic. Virtual, online events are now the norm. Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube Live video discussions are the new book signings. Twitter chats are weekly on any number of topics; I have two of my own, in fact, #SexAbuseChat every Tuesday at 6 pm pst/9 pm est and #BookMarketingChat every Wednesday at 6 pm pst/9 pm est.

All important for visibility, branding, and most importantly, connection.

However…there’s a limit. I reached my limit over the course of this past year. It didn’t come all at once. It came, little by little, reaching a peak this past month or so.

Why? How? Me, the so-called social media expert?

Access. Like many people, I have issues with the incredible level of access Facebook gives people once we friend them without our consent. PMs (private messages) are automatic, now with the ability for people to call, voice, and video message us, with no option to shut these options to OFF unless we unfriend the person (we can, however, mute a specific conversation). Technically, we do give them consent in the legal mumbo jumbo we all agreed to when we joined back in the 2010s.

I am not okay with this. And Facebook doesn’t care. Nobody cares. You’re probably thinking, “Geez, Karen. Shut up, already. Stop your whining, white lady.” I get it. I do. First-world problems.

I counter with: I hear you. It’s also part of my business. A huge part. Here’s why:

As someone who manages over 70+ various social media accounts as part of my BadRedhead Media business, plus my own accounts as well, Facebook requires I have a personal account in order to manage all those other Pages. I do understand why, particularly with all the ridiculousness of the past four years with the abundance of fake accounts, fake news, and such.

As a survivor of sexual abuse and stalking, this is ultra-concerning to me. So, what happened this past month or so? Suffice it to say, one person repeatedly tried calling me. I never pick up Facebook calls, especially if I don’t know you. Another left me a few voice messages saying they were offended by something.

Yet another left me another message in ALL SHOUTY CAPS that she didn’t find what I posted inspirational enough and she expected better from someone who is “supposedly on the side of authors.”

Oh, and there is the one lady who started replying on ALL my posts to the kind people who did comment that she didn’t think I replied often enough or to her satisfaction.

Well. I’ve been criticized before. You should read some of my 1-star reviews. There’s plenty!

But, for whatever reason, this struck a chord. I got up in my feels. I cried. I talked with one of them and we worked it out because we like and respect each other’s work in the mental health space. The others I blocked. It’s darn frustrating to donate hours of my time each week to helping writers solely because I want to, only to be told it’s not enough. Like, seriously? Fuck off.

My blood raged. My heart sank. Understandable, right?

But what really made me angry is that I put myself in that position by being available. I accepted that ‘it is what it is.’ This is what the social media platforms have given us, so that’s what I have to work within.

I’m too available. It’s too easy to leave me shitty messages. This is why people hire people like me – to handle this crap for them! So they don’t have to read these ridiculous criticisms from judgy people who apparently have nothing better to do or are having a bad day.

And I get bad days. It’s a damn pandemic. We’re all struggling. Where’s the damn compassion for one another?

I have a dislike/hate relationship with Facebook anyway, since about ten or so years ago when I discovered that a past love had died by suicide by going to his personal profile and seeing, “RIP dude,” messages there. We had spoken early that day. It still haunts me.

So…what to do? I’m claiming my time. I’m not posting to my personal Facebook profile right now. I’m ignoring it. I am checking my Pages and of course, my client Pages. When I feel like I can face it again, I will cull my ‘friends’ down from *checks real quick* 4385 people to maybe, I don’t know, the few hundred in my groups, many of whom I do know and treasure.

Social Proof and You

If you’re a writer, social proof matters. This is the world we live in. Publishing is not only writing.

You need to be ‘findable,’ not only on Google, but also on each individual social platform, so your readers can learn more about you and hopefully, buy your books. If you go the traditional route, publishers and agents want to know how many followers you have (easily upped by buying fake followers or likes from Fiverr or wherever). I suggest not doing that, because:

1) fake followers don’t buy books 

2) it’s usually pretty obvious when you have fake followers because they’re all foreign names, have questionable bios, and no tweets

3) do you really want to start your publishing career with a lie? 

They also want to know what you post, how often, and what your branding is. If you’re an indie author, honestly, the same applies. Social proof is about connection, building relationships, and authenticity. I’ve believed that since I started my business and writing career way back in 2011, and I stand by it now. Start slow, grow slow. It’s not a race.

I’m the furthest thing you’ll even find from a conspiracy theorist – I don’t believe in chemtrails, pizza parlor cabals, or that the earth is flat. However, I am a realist. Watch The Social Dilemma sometime. These huge tech companies share our data without our knowledge or consent (Cambridge Analytics, anyone?). Younger generations are so used to this, they don’t really care – ask them.

(My kids think having a chip implanted in their hands with all their data is a fabulous idea. “So much easier than having to talk and repeat everything over and over. Just scan me and be done with it,” says my daughter Anya (21). “Agree,” grunts my son, Lukas (15). Buy stuff, go to the doctor, whatever. Scan and go. Talk with any GenZ kid, you’ll likely get a similar answer. They’ve been tracked since birth everywhere. They don’t know life without a computer, tablet, or phone in their hands.)

Know that whatever we do, it’s all part of each platforms’ AI, and they share data, which is why that darling pair of shoes you just saw on Amazon is now showing up on Google, Facebook, Twitter, and every website you visit going forward. It’s all about the money, and they all get a piece of that affiliate link.

Every bit of every click is recorded, even when you’re watching videos on YouTube, or a subscription service like Netflix, or perusing goods on Amazon. It’s all connected. I’m not shocked or surprised by any of this, are you?

It’s Not Personal

What people say to us and about us is ultimately incredibly revealing about them. We know this, at an intellectual, psychological, and emotional level. Still, when people say mean things, it hurts. We’re human.

Does it matter in the overall scope of our lives? Who can say. It matters at that moment. It can matter when it comes to overall visibility when you’re marketing your book(s) or trying to get that book contract or interview. Only you can say if it matters to you.

Already a longtime fan of THE FOUR AGREEMENTS by Don Miguel Ruiz, I took a moment to reorient myself with this one agreement: Don’t take anything personally. I also stumbled across an excellent short and entertaining TEDTalk by Frederick Imbo. His main message to stop taking things personally is two-fold;

It’s not about me. Look at the other person’s intention and

It IS about me. Give yourself some empathy. Speak up. Ask questions. Pay attention to how you feel and be vulnerable with your needs.

I’m glad I was able to, inadvertently, employ point #2 and work out some issues with one of the people by telling him what he said made me cry. He apologized. I apologized. We talked it through and we’re still friends.

Ultimately, social media is what we contribute to it. What we make it. How much we allow of it into our lives. Social proof is going along with the tide. I’ve been in this space since 2008. Being connected to others is a big part of the work I do to help and support not only other writers, but also other childhood sexual abuse survivors. However, I’ve reached that point. I knew it was coming.

I’m not shutting my doors. I’m just adding a screen. With a strong lock.

***

Read more about Rachel’s experiences in the award-winning book, Broken Pieces.

She goes into more detail about living with PTSD and realizing the effects of how being a survivor affected her life in

Broken Places, available in print everywhere!

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The post What Is Social Proof and Does It Matter, Really? appeared first on Rachel Thompson.

via Rachel Thompson

[thelostandforgottenangel]

So I'm going to boost the hell out of this because I just found them after my kids dad set them out of his way

And they need to be seen

((I will post the other 2-4 paintings when I find them!))

**Full credit to the beautiful and incredibly talented "Archaic Sol" Madison Paige Baker who painted these and yes I asked her to sign for me so everyone could see her work**

I bumped into this incredible artist back at the beginning of 2021 set up at a weekend art alley in my hometown. The town is trying to help the community and the people who make stuff by hand and run their own small online businesses to keep and support themselves while out of work, its $20 for a spot and you can sell anything you make within reason helps creator's keep up with bills in the shutdown and it's fun. Long as you make over $20 you have profited

Due to covid, Medieval Times/Screams where she and her man sell several items including authentic hand made leather armor additions, the place had closed down meaning both were depending on selling stuff while out of work (his craft is fucking awesome and someday I'm buying me a mask cause they are detailed and match the era!)

When I stopped at their booth I was shocked she was out in the Texas heat and she was maybe days from giving birth to their son; who is beautiful and healthy last I saw him at Antique Alley.

(Also, bless the man who so sweetly gave up his chair with an umbrella so she could be comfortable and out of the sun)

While there I had bought some small things here and there from other booths in support to the creator's who were just trying to survive, but while talking to her I found out they were struggling, their table was the most expensive there. Not because they were over charging or anything but because everything on the table was made by one of their hands! She had paintings and knitted items that were whimsical and made me very happy, he had his leather armor and masks to try and attract business. After being there for hours I was their only customer so I stood there and talked to them even got a few more people to stop showing off their talent.

You can imagine they were stressed out knowing the baby was going to be there soon and with what they said I figured they were behind on bills but both were so sweet and just radiated happiness always smiling and had me laughing even though I was crying daily at that point over my son. We talked for a few hours and at the end of the day I had to purchase her art because I was so drawn to it.

I had walked around for a bit more while waiting on my sisters to arrive, bought a few things from another artist who was selling prints of her original art and went back to talk a bit more. I felt pulled to her and didnt know why then but I do now

While chatting with her guy kinda took notice of the three young adults complaining about the paintings price before being rude as they walked off thinking I didn't hear them... I bought almost all of her paintings after that and paid full price even though she was doing half off all of them because they were the last booth sitting there and hadn't sold much other then a few crystal stones for a few bucks...

I was told I was stupid for paying what I did for my new collection, which soon as I have a wall I will be hanging them. Plus I felt so guilty because she would have to do more paintings while having a new baby at home but in the end I wanted to help them.

[the-writing-mobster]

What If: Frisk and Sans chilling out on beds and couches at a furniture store.

Ah this one was so cute! And so fun to write! 

What If Frisk and Sans went to Ikea? Suggestive flirting????  

"We've been in here for hours—"

"—THIS ROOM IS BEAUTIFUL!" Sans sighed and watched as Frisk took a picture of the minimalist "city-living" kitchen display. They had really only been there for an hour and a half, but they had come to get a bed…  not to take pictures of the display rooms. However, he had to admit; seeing Frisk, a woman who took herself very seriously, act like a child at a toy store was quite endearing.

"Could you see us in an apartment like this?" She breathed as she stepped inside the display to look at all the pretty decorations. Sans chuckled quietly and crossed his arms.

"I could see myself uh… eating those swedish meatballs," he grunted. She shot him a look and he snickered boyishly.

“Oh tais-toi, connard,” she teased with a playful snicker. Sans chuckled and wrapped his arms around her. Frisk laughed as he nibbled on her neck.

“I’m hungry, and you’re over here showing me display kitchens. Not helping, sweetheart,” he murmured into her ear. That familiar tingle ran down her spine and she smirked.

“Be good. We’re in public,” she whispered coyly as she shrugged him off and continued down the yellow marked path. He watched her with a growing grin and shoved his hands in his pockets with a smug air about him. He glanced over to see an older couple shooting them dirty looks, which he returned with a nonchalant wink. The old woman’s jaw gaped and Sans quickly turned away and chased after his fiancé.

“I’m surprised Papyrus isn’t here, what did you say he was holed up doing again?” Asked Frisk as she ran her hand along a dark wooden armoire. Sans shrugged absentmindedly and glanced down her body as she walked in front of him. Sometimes he was taken aback by how surreal it was to be with a woman like her.

“He had to go to the bank to deal with…uh… a fraud charge on his card. It got locked cause he tried to buy a some candles from Bath and Body Works. Apparently Bath and Body Works is a—tch—a hotspot, and he’s such a fuckin impulse buyer. The moment he discovered online shopping, I swear to God.” His words dissolved into a fit of boyish chuckles at the memory. Frisk joined in his infectious laughter.

“Oh my God. Oh my God! I remember!” She had been shopping with Alice, Bonnie and Charlotte when Papyrus had called her in a fit of rage about never shopping at “that deplorable perfumery” ever again. They both giggled together as they walked the endless maze of home decor.

Finally, they arrived in the bed and bedroom section of the gigantic furniture store and Sans sighed with relief.

“Think I can actually sit down for a change?” He teased. Frisk rolled her eyes and scanned the room. They needed a king. As... nice... as it was being pressed together in a full, she knew having space would be better, especially since they both took up a lot of space, Sans from sheer size and Frisk by spreading her limbs to each corner of the mattress. She knew the longer they lived together, the more being tangled in each other’s arms would get claustrophobic. Claustrophobia would cause tension, and tension would cause fights…and Frisk never wanted that to happen. Not after everything they’d been through together. No, a couple needed their moments of space. A bed was the perfect place to have it.

Frisk glanced over her shoulder when she felt Sans’s eyes on her and she pursed her lips to hide a smile. Besides, with the way their sex life was going… there would be plenty of time to be entangled together. Her soul flickered at the notion and she let out a heavy breath. A bigger bed has so many more possibilities…

“Oh, look at this one,” she hummed as she gestured to a bed with a solid, black headboard. Sans glanced down and read the name. KVALFJORD. He grumbled to himself something along the lines of crazy-Swedish-bullshit before shrugging and pushing his hand into the mattress.

“It’s nice, that’s for sure,” he murmured thoughtfully. Frisk grinned and checked the price. She grimaced at the four hundred dollar price tag but Sans shrugged it off. Four hundred dollars was nothing to him or his brother. She was still surprised at how well they had transitioned into the American workforce after years of being military operatives for Asgore. Granted it wasn’t standard work. Frisk had never been an ambassador before in her life, but the position was proving rather rewarding, and Sans worked alongside her as her own personal bodyguard. She smiled softly and spared him a small glance.

“Hey… I love you,” she hummed, toying with the hem of his sleeve. Sans glanced back at her and his grin widened. He quirked a brow teasingly and ruffled her hair.

“I love you too, babe,” he said. Frisk smiled as he rolled himself onto the bed and rested his hands behind his neck in thoughtful surrender. It held his weight pretty well, considering the sheer size difference between humans and monsters.

“Is it good?” She asked. He hummed contentedly. Granted, with how easily Sans could become comfortable, she was sure anything would work for him and he would have little to no complaints. She gasped as he pulled her onto the bed and she giggled. The two laid side by side and Frisk splayed her arms out. Sans grunted as her hand slapped his face and they snickered.

“It’s a king for a reason, kid,” he joked and she chuckled and turned over onto her stomach. Sans watched as she propped her head up on her hands and they smiled affectionately at each other.

“I love Ikea way too much.” Sans burst out laughing at her words and she grinned. He sighed lazily and pulled himself up to sit against the headboard.

“Is this the one?” She asked. He glanced around the large industrial cavern at all the other options. None of them really fit his taste. This one was more modern, and -he shuffled his weight- not squeaky, unlike his old bed.

“What do you think?” He asked as he got up to lift the mattress and check out the support beams. Frisk slid off and came to stand by his side.

“Think it could handle us?” She whispered with a suggestive twinkle in her eye. Sans smirked and glanced down at her.

“Well there’s only one way to try that out and… as much as that idea entices me, I don’t think that would be very appropriate. I mean you’re the one who brought up the fact we’re in public,” he murmured back. She leaned against the bed and gave it a hard shake. Sans laughed at the move. It held firm and she shrugged and looked back up at him.

“I think it works. As long as we build it correctly.” Sans groaned at the reminder that yes, they would have to build it themselves. 

“Oh fuck me,” he groaned. Frisk stifled a smirk and gave him an innocent smile.

“I will once we build it,” she purred. He shook his head in amusement and wrapped an arm around her waist.

“What’s gotten into you? Actin all… frisky,” he uttered as he kissed her forehead. She giggled and ran her hand down his chest. He sucked in at the move, pulling her closer to him.

“It’s your fault,” she hummed with mock disapproval. He scoffed with baffled amusement and grabbed her hand when she reached his pelvis. His entire body was burning with her touch.  

“If you keep this up, I don’t think I’ll be able to wait until after the damn thing gets built,” he growled. She bit her lip and pulled away from him. Sans watched her walk around the bed and ran his tongue along the edges of his fangs. She always knew how to get to him.

“So do you like this one?” She asked, pretending that nothing had happened. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at her.

“I do.” She smiled and took a picture of the tag for when they would need it in the warehouse.

“Perfect. I do too. Now! Let’s look at the mattresses,” she chirped as she skipped down the aisle. Sans growled with a titillating lust and followed after her. This woman.

When he came to her side, she reached for his hand, which he readily surrendered and she smiled with contentment. Her hand was so small compared to his, but in it, she felt safe. No one could touch her as long as he was by her side. That knowledge was enough to put her ever alert mind at ease and make her soul hum.

They spent another hour or so trying to find the right mattress, sparing each other flirtatious looks along the way. Every so often Frisk or Sans would notice other people staring at them out of morbid curiosity. After all, Sans was a reaper who stood at six feet and six inches tall, and she was just five foot six. However, she was happy to find no one being blatantly rude to them. Most of the employees were helpful, even if they did tremble a bit at the sight of Sans. She had to remind herself how she felt the first time they had met. That was of course, under very different circumstances.

When they finally made it past the furniture department, and into the home decor, Sans had to corral Frisk away from all the shiny decorations. It was like herding cats. They didn’t exactly need a new salad bowl. Or new cups or dishes. Or fake potted plants.

Frisk did end up piling a bunch of pretty throw pillows and abstract art prints into the cart, along with the necessary bed sheets and comforter that would fit onto the bed. The duvet itself looked like its own abstract art piece, with mottled black, white and blue colors. Truly, Sans wasn’t much of a designer, so he let Frisk pick out anything. He was happy with most all of her choices, except for when she expressed interest in a flowery, grandmotherly type duvet.

Once everything was picked out, they spent the last hour in the warehouse finding, retrieving and paying for the bed and all of their items. Sans followed through with his wish of grabbing some of the famous Swedish meatballs.

Once they were all finished and ready to go, one of the employees cautiously approached them.

"Do you need any help loading…?" asked the employee. Sans glanced down at Frisk and grinned as smoke began to pour out of his eye sockets and circle the two and their boxes.

"Nah," he said as the employee looked on with a mixture of terror and strange fascination as the mist covered them. As the red smoke cleared, the employee gasped and stumbled back. They were gone!

                                                    ⁂

"Was that really necessary?" Frisk asked with a breathless laugh. Sans rose a brow as the boxes thumped to the ground around them.

"Probably not, but you know what is?" He growled as he snaked an arm around her waist. She quirked a brow and shot him a challenging smirk.

"What?" She breathed. He clutched her chin in his large hand and leaned her head back as he kissed her. She let out a heavy breath and wrapped her arms around his neck. He nibbled her lips and heat shot down her stomach.

Sans pressed her against the wall as his hunger for her overcame him. She hummed as she pulled his head away from her and bit her lip with a sultry gleam in her eyes.  

"Not yet…" she sing-songed. He growled under his breath and she tapped his fangs. She smiled and slid out from under him. He snatched her hand and pulled her back to face him.

"Just one more kiss?" He purred. She smiled sweetly and cupped his face with her hands. They shared a gentle kiss before she patted his cheek bones and pranced away to gather the heavy boxes. We're gonna have a great time tonight.

[stormears]

Anybody Looking to Puke Tonight

By reading some wacko internet drama that my grandfather initiated. 

I might delete this post because it’s pretty sad, weird, gross and more than a little creepy but I guess I want a few tumblr peeps to...share this nonsense with.

My grandpa is 90. My mother lives with him...because she currently can’t afford to have her own place. Hoping that will change next year. But for now, she lives with him and has to do a lot of caretaking tasks for him. Like clean/change his sheets, buy him the occasional Depends diapers, buy his groceries because he’s too weak to walk into a store, he also is nearly deaf. He can kinda-sorta hold a conversation and has a little funny wit at times, but he talks and processes things rather slowly and he knows it. 

HE ALSO IS REALLY INTO ONLINE DATING 

My grandpa loves to write poetry and has shared his poems with lots of other grandmas on old people dating sites. Typing in all caps about his old jobs and his grandkids and such. And giving his phone number to those ladies! Sometimes he talks to them and picks up the phone. Sometimes he picks up the phone and immediately hangs up. He seems to have a new lady friend every couple weeks. Or just forgets which ones he’s already talked to. 

Recently my mom saw my grandpa watching TV and holding the phone to his ear, while someone on the other end rattled on and on and on, and grandpa just looked at the TV and said flat nothing for 4 or 5 straight minutes and that person on the other line did not stop talking once. With my grandpa’s slow brain, he was probably attuned to the TV and barely hearing or understanding anything that person was saying, but he was also just, letting them blab on and on and on! My mom got weirded out and suspicious. She...PICKED UP THE PHONE TO LISTEN IN! (a second landline phone)

Creepiness incoming

And it sounded like an adult woman waxing on about “I’m so happy we can talk and you make time for me and it’s great that we’re in love and it’s great how much you love me and i’m so happy to chat with you” and my mom, hearing this, interrupted the phone call, butted in to YELL AT THAT WOMAN! 

Saying stuff like “That is my FATHER you’re talking to, do you realize he is NINETY and who the hell are you, this is so inappropriate” 

And she gets to um, chatting with the person and they claim they are age THIRTY-NINE, and named Tasha, claims she’s a woman but my mom said “I wasn’t sure if it was a woman or a gay man” and she just asked Tasha their gender and Tasha laughed at her and said “well what do YOU think” and wouldn’t answer the damn question! She just said over and over again that my grandpa and her were “in love” and that’s that! Claimed she and my grandpa have been talking for a year now. 

My mom went off on Tasha for being so psycho as to be dragging along a 90-year-old man when she is 39, saying she is either a lying bitch trying to get money from my grandpa or is so pathetic she can’t get anyone her own age to pay attention to her, even on the internet, that she has to sink so low as to begging barely-mentally-competent old men for attention!!

Tasha ignored all this and said “You can call the FBI but you can’t stop our love.”

Goddamn you Tasha! You fucking FREAK! You either ARE that pathetic or you are preying on my grandfather! 

I forget if there was anymore to the convo after that but my mom said she blocked Tasha’s number on my grandpa’s landline phone. And grandpa is soon going to stay with my aunt for the winter, and she DOESN’T have a landline (but grandpa does have a cell phone, which he never uses, but god, he could start if he wants to talk to Tasha enough) 

My mom then confronted my grandpa about this, asking why in the HELL he would carry on a relationship with someone the age of his oldest grandchildren, don’t you realize she’s psycho or using you, dad, why are you talking to someone that age, your granddaughter’s age, would you fuck your granddaughter, Dad? And she slapped the table and made him look at her and yelled “WOULD YOU FUCK YOUR GRANDDAUGHTER, DAD?” And like he often does when confronted with a question he doesn’t want to answer, grandpa hung his head like a dog being scolded and just waited for the conversation to move on. 

The only response my mom got out of him about all this is “It works for me.” Well he also said he’s been talking to “that woman” for 3 years. If Tasha said 1 year and grandpa said 3, it’s probably just 1 year in truth and grandpa just can’t remember properly.  

Mom asked if I would log on to grandpa’s laptop to try and find any messages in his usual dating websites between him and Tasha. And I was very much willing to do it, because Tasha does sound insane, and my grandpa very well could have given her his address (but he was ON the computer the entire 4 hours I was over there and we didn’t want him to know we were doing that) He’s not smart enough to order anything online so we really doubt this is just some crazy phone sex call, but he sure could just type his address or send her a letter and has done so for his various “girlfriends” before. Tasha might know where he lives. 

My mom told her older sis (the aunt that grandpa will spend the winter with) about this and aunt was just confused why my mom even butted into the convo at all, why she picked up the phone and started talking to Tasha. Imo, “leave grandpa alone so he can live his life with independence and dignity” goes out the window once grandpa shows he is not competent enough to avoid internet crazies, but auntie doesn’t think so. 

My mom told her younger bro (nearby jobless uncle on disability who probably cheated the system to get it, tbh, is a harmless nice guy but lazy af and rather spineless imo) and she actually had him on the line to listen to the Tasha convo...by having him on speaker on her cell phone I think, in proximity to grandpa’s landline phone. And uncle actually got riled up and yelled at Tasha too, which I sure did not expect! He told her to stay the heck away from his father, and he supported my mom blocking Tasha’s number. But auntie and mom got into a bit of a fight about it because auntie would never have gotten involved in this. Well, auntie. You can have fun with grandpa’s “independence” once he’s at your house and you have the job of picking him up when he constantly falls on the floor, making dinners for him because he can’t figure out the microwave anymore or be trusted with the oven, doing his laundry for him and wiping his occasional accidental shitstain. Love ya, auntie but ughh grow a brain. 

Thanks for reading, if you did. 

My grandpa has had his “online dating” life for a long time, it’s one of his very few hobbies nowadays besides reading large-print books and watching PBS programming. But it’s never extended to...a weirdo like this. A person who I didn’t mentally write off straightaway. Tasha freaks me out a bit. 

Now there’s tension between my grandpa and mom now because he’s angry that she butted into his business and she’s angry and sad and kinda disgusted at knowing these poor judgement calls and probable sexual desires of her own really old father. They live in a tiny house and he kind of needs her to survive, so they can’t ever really get away from each other, but it just sucks for her now. She can’t afford her own house, her job sucks, she has no hobbies or friends besides hanging out with me way too fucking much, feels she has no future or financial security, no one in the family wants to speak to her because she’s, well, kind of a raging overbearing bitch, and now her dad is pissed off at her too. Sucks to be her. It really does.  

[sp00kymulderr]

tag game ★~(•◡•✿) 50 questions you’ve never been asked before

Tagged by @longitud-de-onda & @javierpenaspinkshirt aages ago thanks loves💖

what colour is your hair brush?

Neon pink

are you typically too warm or too cold?

warm

what were you doing 45 minutes ago?

French lessons on Duolingo!

what is your favorite candy bar?

Whittakers coconut block omg

have you ever been to a professional sports event?

Yeah mainly football cause I grew up a Leeds United supporter (ew). The best of any sport I’ve been to watch was roller derby in Austin, that was incredible.

what is the last thing you said out loud?

I was actually attempting to read out loud that cursed @amarvelousmandalorian fic to see how far I could get, but I won’t tell you which bit I got to cause I don’t wanna write it down haha

what is your favorite ice cream?

Ben & Jerrys Half Baked maybe. Idk I don’t eat a lot of ice cream

what was the last thing you had to drink?

Water. Gotta stay hydrated.

do you like your wallet?

Yeah. It’s super glittery and cute, but I’ve had it a couple years it’s time to replace it I reckon.

what was the last thing you ate?

Some carrot batons cause I couldn’t be bothered to cook

did you buy any new clothes last weekend?

No but I did buy some art prints from my fave tattoo artist which is way more exciting

the last sporting event you watched?

All Black v Tonga in 2018 is the last one I actually remember. Really don’t watch sports.

what is your favorite flavor of popcorn?

Sweet & Salted

who is the last person you sent a text message to?

my brother

ever go camping?

Not since 2009 when we camped out somewhere near Austin I think, I’m not particularly in to camping.

do you go to church every Sunday?

No. I am very much an atheist

do you have a tan?

At the moment kinda, my fake tan is coming off and looks patchy af. I need to sort that out before it gets warm again.

do you prefer Chinese food or pizza?

pizza pizza all the time.

do you drink your soda with a straw?

Nah

what color socks do you usually wear?

what are socks? I haven’t worn socks in so long jfc. Black if I have to wear them.

do you ever drive above the speed limit?

I don’t drive

what terrifies you?

Dogs because I have a really bad phobia. Storms in general but specifically lightning, other deeper things but I don’t wanna talk about those.

look to your left, what do you see?

The back of my sofa and the wall

what chore do you hate?

I have come to realise I don’t mind chores now I live alone, but cleaning the bathroom is probably the one I like the least

what do you think of when you hear an Australian accent?

how much I’d rather be hearing a New Zealand accent haha. JK they’re fine but I don’t really have much of a reaction, I’ve lived and travelled with too many Australians at this point.

what’s your favorite soda

Coke Zero, I don’t really drink other sodas

do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thrus?

Go in but I generally try to avoid them as much as possible.

who’s the last person you talked to?

My therapist but that was an online chat so idk if that really counts as talking. In person, my deliveroo driver

favorite cut of beef?

no thank you, I don’t eat meat.

last song you listened to?

In Red - Queenadreena (I’m really diving back in to music from my teenage years this week idk what’s going on)

last book you read?

I haven’t picked up a book in forever I don’t have the energy to read eugh. I am still working through The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet and I guess the last I actually finished was The Last Wish

favorite day of the week?

Fridays, when times were normal and I was working. All days are equal now. 

can you say the alphabet backwards?

definitely not

how do you like your coffee?

Strong, made in a cafetiere and with a dash of oat milk. If I’m ordering from a coffee shop though; cold brew or mocha

favorite pair of shoes?

I had a really nice Doc Martens collection going, and these beautiful dark purple suede docs were my highlight - but I can’t wear them anymore because of plantar fasciitis and had to get rid of them :’(

the time you normally go to sleep?

At the moment we’re looking between midnight and 4am

the time you normally get up?

Very rarely before 11am. I don’t know how I’ll cope when I get sent back to work and have to get up at 5am fuck.

what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets?

Sunsets. They’re beautiful and peaceful and remind me of home.

how many blankets on your bed?

just the duvet, no blankets.

describe your kitchen plates

Boring plain white and sort of square. 

do you have a favorite alcoholic beverage?

I’m a red wine girl through and through, give me a good Malbec and I’m very happy. I’m definitely getting more in to whisky every day but I’ve yet to find my absolute favourite (maybe Jura Prophecy? it is amazing)

do you play cards?

Sure but only snap ha

what color is your car?

I don’t have one.

can you change a tire?

Nope

favorite job you’ve ever had?

God I’ve had so many jobs and I really disliked the large majority of them. I wasn’t made for the kind of jobs I’ve had to take. The best one I ever had though was the first job I got in my industry that wasn’t call centre work - I wrote letters responding to hotel complaints for a bedbank. It was amazing; I got to write every day, I had the most wonderful supportive supervisor, I didn’t have to physically speak to customers just write to them. I was with that company for several years and got promoted, worked in a bunch of different departments but that job was the one I always wanted to go back to. If it wasn’t London based I’d happily return to it now.

how did you get your biggest scar?

The only scar I still have is from scraping my acrylic stiletto nail in to the skin on my knee by accident. I don’t have any big big ones.

what did you do today that made someone else happy?

Fuck all. I sent a friendly anon which I hope made the person smile, does that count?

idk who to tag since this is quite old but if you see this and wanna do it consider this me tagging you!

[iesorno]

We spoke to Adam a little while ago about his influences and inspirations and found his answers intriguing, so we decided to dive in and dig a bit deeper. We just kept on going with it all until we ended up with a mammoth interview going into every corner of his mind, from practice and accessing his creativity, to grafting to make a living outside of the norms of the mainstream.

I think it’s a fascinating look into the practice, experiences and the will to succeed that powers Adam, as well as a window into the wider world of underground creators.

WARNING – GORE and some SEX

You can find Adam here

webstore                youtube                facebook

  ZL – Hi Adam! Thanx for agreeing to this interview, hope you enjoy it. 

Let’s get introductions out of the way. For anyone that doesn’t know, can you tell us your name, where you grew up and where you currently live?

AY – My name is Mr. Adam Yeater. I grew up a swamp rat in Florida and traveled around a lot. I finally settled down in Arizona as a desert rat. I went from one Florida to another. 

ZL – For a little bit more background. You clearly enjoy underground and mini comix, so how did you first find out about them and what were you interested in before you started reading them?

AY – I discovered zines through the early Death/Grind Metal scene in the 90s. There was no internet so everything was done via snail mail. I used to get so much great printed matter. Demo tapes, fliers for bands, albums and review zines. I eventually started my own zine called Subliminal Message. We lived in Ohio in a shit hole little town. Trying to get high, fighting, reading comic books, listening to Metal, Punk Rock, Hardcore Rap and skateboarding.

I was a very industrious broke ass 14 year old kid. I found a way to get some of the mainstream metal record companies to send me promo stuff for their bands for review. I was getting stacks of stuff in the mail. The record companies were mailing backstage passes to me! My mom thought I was running a mail scam.

I once did a phone interview with Chris Barnes when he was in Cannibal Corpse. Chris called for an interview and my mom picked up the phone. He was like “Are you a fucking kid? Holy shit! I usually do interviews with old dudes?” We talked for an hour and half about Metallica selling out. It was amazing. I idolized these weirdos and was getting to just hang out with them. 

I did an interview with Cro-Mags right when the original singer got out of prison. I did an interview with Entombed for my high school newspaper! I even interviewed the Goo Goo Dolls when they were on Metalblade Records just for the hell of it. Those metal bands were my heroes. They treated me as an equal and I was this punk kid. They all encouraged me to keep at it. I was getting first hand knowledge of trying to make a living as a creative in American society from them. The good and bad. 

ZL – What did it feel like the first time you ever spoke to one of your heroes? It must have felt pretty excellent, right?

AY – It was awesome talking to those bands, it was a real rush. I would get so nervous. I got to hang with some of the bands before and after the shows. All these dudes just embraced me as one of them. I am super tall, so I looked a lot older than I was. I was also a big nerd for the metal scene so I was turning them onto all this other new stuff I was getting. I think they saw me as an oddity. Then we moved to Tucson where there was no metal scene. 

ZL – Is that why you stopped making your zine then, moving to Tucson?

AY – Yeah, moving from Ohio to Arizona. The scene was pretty lame in AZ. No bands would come through Tucson at the time. So I ditched the ‘zine and started a Grindcore band with some friends. We did pretty well for a local death metal act. We played shows with Napalm Death and smoked a ton of weed with Sadistic Intent, that was cool. 

Lots of drugs and drama, bandmates stealing from each other. . . even more drugs. It was a very fucked up time in my life that I am happy to have survived. 

ZL – At what point did you get back into zines and start to think that self-publishing comics was something you could do or that you were good at and wanted to do more with, to just keep going and going and see how far you could take it?

AY – After the band and metal zine I started printing my own mini comics and comic books. I really got into self publishing and art because I had nothing else really. My last “legit” job was as a janitor before I decided to do art and publish full time. I figured I would rather starve as an artist than starve scrubbing shit off toilets. Art is the only thing I have ever been really good at. So I just keep doing it. 

ZL – Circling back to get a bit more from your background for a minute, what first turned you into a comic reader and from there, did you move to be a collector or fan, if that distinction makes sense!! And where in all of that did you start making your own comics?

AY- I was into comics a lot when I was young as a collector and fan before I moved into extreme music. I was keeping up with the medium but was focused on the death metal band I was in.

After the band. I was doing paintings and fine art for quite a while. I had also done comics on the side but my fine art was doing well. Then the housing market crashed and nobody was buying art for foreclosed homes. 

Luckily I had been doing an extreme comic strip in the metal ‘zines and in the mini comics I was doing. I saw that a local comic convention had started. So I printed them all up and booked a table. I sold out of my first printing and a bunch of art. That is when One Last Day started. 

ZL – How did that feel, selling out of books like that? I’m guessing it must have been quite a boost as you carried on and set up an online store! What was the convention like, if you remember at all, did you have a good time there chatting and meeting fans and creators? A lot of people talk about how much the community at a convention matters to them, was that important to you at the time?

AY – It was a real boost. From that little bit of seed money I have been able to keep the ball rolling and have kept printing comics ever since. The comics scene in Tucson in the early 90s was really small and bare bones. It was me and like 2 other indie guys actively printing their own comics. I have encouraged and fostered so many people to make their own comics since then. Many writers and artists from the Tucson scene are now in the mainstream and indie comics system. 

The couple who started the Tucson Comic Con have been the best thing for our local comix and art scene. Rather than neglecting local and indie comics they embraced and promoted them. I was so lucky to be in a place where the local comic convention focused heavily on independent comic artists. 

I see kids that I taught inking classes to that are now publishing their comics on Amazon. Kids that now give me their books and thank me for all the support and inspiration I gave them. It is humbling. Before the ‘rona I was leaving 1000s of mini comics all over town instead of fliers for the last 15 years. It has exposed people in this town and state to my art and a world of comic books they never knew existed. 

ZL – Speaking of coronavirus, I’m wondering how much that has affected your income currently? Do you rely heavily on con sales or do you have a whole set of ways to get sales, which is a terrible way of asking that I’m really interested in how you generate sales for your work, what venues and sources and what sort of percentage of sales comes from them. Have you got a regular set of fans that buy everything, are you using email communications, just facebook?

AY – In today’s art and comics world every successful artist has to be a little bit Andy Worhol and a lot of P. T. Barnum. Otherwise nobody will give a shit about you. So I have a ton of different ways to move my stuff. The website is my main hub but I do small zine fests and shows whenever I can. I have been doing OK but had to switch gears during the crisis. My online sales picked up so that helped a lot. I also have new books coming out all this year. I think that helps too.

Comic conventions at one time were a really good source of income when I first started doing them. I was making great money. Every year it has become progressively less of a viable option for creators like me. The big comic shows are just pop culture festivals. The last few years a lot of the larger shows could care less about indie comics. Table prices and entry fees are way too high for a self publisher or upcoming creator to make any money. Especially out of state shows. Hotel, travel, etc. Because of this I was only doing smaller zine/comic shows and focusing on my online sales already. The virus was a great reason to really focus on my online presence. 

ZL – I first saw your work through a facebook group, one of the indie comics groups that sort of specializes in small press superhero and space operas, and I was wondering whether you think those groups help the creators reach more readers, or whether they are all more community pages as in it’s all people that want to make comics and they’re all working to support their own bubbles? (Obviously I’m exaggerating a little, they often have horror and then there’s oddball work that pops up, but there do seem to be a lot of big boob bad girls and massive muscles in some kind of genre thing. )

AY- I look at social media differently than most. I talk shit about comics on it but I have never used it as a political soapbox or a place to talk about my “personal journey”. I post my art and comix. That is it. I speak through my art. I like to “post and ghost”. I feel I am a healthier person for it. 

This year I have slowly been taking my art off all the platforms. They are not an unbiased purveyor of ideas. Like the original internet was intended for. Social media is making us all sick. Scientifically proven sick. 

I have grown to hate the self imposed censorship imposed on social media by advertisers and cancel culture. We as artists should have the right to dictate our expression by taking risks. Without having to worry about some simp nerd in Silicon Valley shadow banning or blacklisting us. 

These leeches profit heavily on ALL of us. Especially artists. They work to infringe on our rights and hinder our freedom to express. The platforms are privatizing our existence. Fakebook and the Twits are just digital emotional vampires. 

They should be paying you a fee to use your content and sell it to their stupid advertisers. They make billions off you and you know what you get, a little dopamine for that “like”. Wow, sweet trade off. Not!!

We all need to stand up in some way as artists. Post fucked up art and weird shit all the time! I wanna see a sea of artistically drawn dicks and vaginas. Shitposts, and fucked up memes on my “news” feed. Random acts of artistic defiance. We need confrontational art more now than ever! I want to see original artwork that pushes against cultural dogmas and shitty societal norms. 

Instead I see oceans of fan art and trash pop culture mashups. Useless e-rage and cat pics. Art without confrontation is just advertising at this point. 

ZL – Now, that’s an interesting one, because there are two sides to the argument on this and I sort of flop wildly between the two without any great reason. I can see why social media is not going to allow seas of dicks – they are easy triggers to SEE, so they’re easy to switch off to maintain acceptability, it seems pointless to me, but is important to a lot of people, so… There’s also the issue of managing genuine freedom to express and people posting images of tentacles raping 6 year old girls and how you manage to monitor that, so it’s just EASIER not to try and figure it and blanket ban it all. 

What I think calls bullshit on their motives for me is that they’ll censor that, but allow neo-nazi lies or channels where people openly spout homophobic, racist or sexist bile. There’s a stinking dichotomy there that calls a lie to their talk of community and keeping us safe from damaging content. 

I certainly wouldn’t want to have to be the poor sod that sifted through all of this stuff to check it though!

Pippa Creme and the Pearl Necklace – Dexter Cockburn

Equally, with work like yours or – to call in someone else I follow who is always getting bumped from facebook – Dexter Cockburn – who does some great porn comics. I see these things as being completely ok and not deserving of banning, but seeing cape comics and how innately sexualised and soft porn like the women are made to look, that makes me feel very dubious, it seems wrong in that context, as it’s so pervasive and so unspoken and clandestine. 

AY – Exactly. It is weird how the mainstream sexulizes it’s heroes. The guys look just as bad. It is a form of repressed erotica. I think it all looks so funny. Balloon shaped breasts or the massive man bulge. There is a big market for that stuff so more power to them. 

It just seems erotica in comix is ok for some and not others. The censorship online is selective. Dexter is a comix friend of mine and a great example. The guidelines are so ambiguous and filled with jargon it becomes nonsense. 

I totally get censorship for criminal reasons. That is a no brainer. What I saw was not that. 

I saw the platforms actively destroy the online followings of some extreme horror artist’s I was following. Some of us had built large fan bases on Myspace and brought our fans over to FB with us. When FB started shutting accounts down it crushed a lot of those artist’s online communities and sales. A lot of artists had to start all new accounts with different names causing them to lose 1000s of followers. Some just gave up or stopped posting extreme art all together. They are still doing it to some of the Ero Goro artists from Japan. It is really fucked up.

ZL – That’s part of the curse and benefit of social media though, they give and then they take away when you’ve made them successful. I do wonder what we can do about that though, maybe they should migrate back to Myspace, maybe the whole retreat to mailing lists is the answer? I don’t know, we need community spaces but we need them to not go dark and end up being hiding places for crime or the dark web. What do you do about it, eh? Maybe you should start curating work into new mail lists and have link sites for different peoples’ interests!!

AY – I like that idea. I have always wanted to do a monthly brochure of underground creators. Like a double sided mailer. I might do one for the Smalll Press Express to hand out at shows. Getting the word out is why I do the YouTube channel. Nobody is shedding light on the best part of comics. The odd, voiceless, strange and marginalized. I think anything that promotes the underground scene and unites indy comic artists is good. I feel every little thing helps. We are all in this sinking ship together. The mainstream comics people keep poking holes in the boat. The indy creators have to keep bailing it out.

ZL – Moving on from that unanswerable conundrum… Is community important to you and comics? Is publishing and buying and communicating with other creators a way of building a place in the wider world for the kinds of things that you enjoy and the kind of things you want to make?

AY – What community. The comics community? 

It just saddens me so much lately. The internet and social media had so much potential to dissolve physical, cultural and social boundaries to our communication around the world. 

Instead most people have developed the attention span of a gnat. I doubt anyone will actually read all this. So I am just gonna lay it all out. How I see it as an outsider looking in.

There is a massive world of art and comics that is ignored in the west. It is where I exist as a creative. I work with toy making friends in South Korea and send comix pages to Artizines in Spain. Send instant messages to slap sticker artists in Japan. All in a few seconds!! This used to take weeks, even months via phone and mail. Many here just take this shit for granted. 

I had a “stick poke” tattooist from Taiwan ask if she could use one of my mini comic images in her little shop. How sick is that!! I live for that!!

I have worked with 100s of the most creative and amazing artists from all over the world. I have had enough love and inspiration from the global art community to last me two life times!!

  The American comics community is a weird story. My books sell well. My fans are awesome. First time readers always come back. I do really well at every comic convention I have ever done, even small ones. I have printed, sold or given away thousands of my mini-comics, floppies and magazines. All over this crazy earth. 

Somehow I have largely existed as an outsider in Western comics. Other than a few supportive cats in the southwest comics scene like Brian Pulido. I feel like they largely just ignore my comics. I have had a few pros refer to my work as ‘zines’ as a sort of insult. 

I started Blood Desert as a big middle finger to the whole corporate comics crowd. The main character is stuck with a permanent middle finger. Good luck co-opting that sucktards. 

When I complete the World of Knonx series I wanna only make comics that are a massive fuck you to that whole unimaganitive self indulgent English centric corporate comics world. I wanna make comics for shitheads all over the world like me.

Most of the comics in the mainstream indie world are leftovers from that hokey auto-bio movement. All of them are still pining over Crumb and Pekar to this day. 

Who knew making super boring comics about your masturbation habits and history no one cares about would be considered as works of high literary art. I guess it is an easy claim to make when the critics also work for the publishers of said high grade comic “art.”

That is just the indy crowd. At this point most people’s knowledge of modern comics comes from dopey stupor hero comics and movies that are made for mouthbreathers by ex-television writers. 

These books are made by “Professional” comic book writers that get top billing over a bunch of lazy artists. These are the same “professionals” who waste their time all day on Twitter and YouTube race baiting each other and blathering nonsense about politics. Somehow they can never seem to get books out on time or any real work done. Go figure. 

Can we all just agree that the comics Youtubers are totally obnoxious. Normal people do not care about all your dumb nerd drama. The “comics news” channels love to foment drama in the industry to make money off of more views. They live to promote division among creators. Mind numbing 4 hour live streams of inane political blather. Interviewing the same old industry jobbers about some dopey superhero comic they made 20 years ago. Effete dorks gushing jizz in their whitey tighties over their wonton nostalgia.

These formerly bullied nerds bully each other constantly online. Doxing, Blacklisting, Censoring, Attacking and Canceling each other. Bunch of grade school kid popularity bullshit. I want absolutely NO part of either side’s dysfunctional cult. These sad people must love to live in a heightened state of anxiety. 

There are 100s of amazing prolific working storytellers chomping at the bit to talk about and sell their titles. Why not interview and promote these creators. Artists who choose not to engage in either side’s petty childish games. Those creators are largely ignored or admonished for not taking sides. 

The industry seems to only want to dwell in nostalgia? A Nostalgia that actually hurts creators. I really wanna talk about Alan Moore. 

Let’s all wax about the greatness of Watchmen ONE last time and finally let it go. Watchmen is the comic book Alan Moore won’t even have in his house because of the disdain he has for the American comics industry.

Comics culture could care less about Alan. They talk about his work gushing with praise. Then they call the man a nutter behind his back. 

The majority of the comics press treated him like a clown and discounted his opinions at every turn. 

Watchmen, the comic they keep in print just so Alan does not regain any of the rights back. 

By promoting and working on Watchmen in any way they are all pretty much saying fuck you to Alan. It is just accepted by everyone. “Oh well! We should just keep screwing this dude cause we all really love those characters.” It is shameful.

Shall I go on about the other creators that were screwed by this “industry”. Seigel, Shuster, Kirby, Finger, Simon and so many more.

The House of Morons track record with creatives is just as terrible. It would take all day to list the Big two’s transgressions against their freelancers. 

All their Editors in Chief make millions while their freelancers get crumbs.

Or maybe there is hope in the price gouging comic book store owners. They did nothing but complain about Diamond and the Big 2’s scams non stop for years. Then they still lap up everything they do or make like pablum. Accepting and still embracing this constant abuse. Over and over and over. I wonder if the majority of store owners are into BDSM? 

Should I bother mentioning all the sex predators that the major comics companies have been covering for?

So now after a long career and all my hard work building a loyal following I am supposed to kiss ass and play nice as a potential artist for them. I am supposed to work on shit I don’t care about? I get to beg for a job doing interior pages for less than minimum wage and no healthcare? No thanks. I am busy building my own worlds not piggybacking on the stolen worlds of others.

The US comics “industry” is kind of a total joke to me at this point. 

ZL – It sounds like you are existing as part of a community though, maybe not an American comics community, but an international underground art community, does that seem fair to say? 

AY – I was actually becoming a big part of the community for a popular comics Youtube channel for a minute until I was excommunicated. The two creators that host the channel constantly espouse to be a bastion for indie creators. As Maury Povich likes to say…” that is a lie.” 

The channel blacklisted me because of a mini comic I did showing cartoon portraits of accused sex predators and general jerks working in the American comics industry. 

I am not part of Comicsgate or any other stupid comics cult. I am not a lecherous ogre who harasses women at comics shows. I am a boring family man who makes weird comics. I speak through my art not by posting constant drama online.

I made a mini comic that someone didn’t like. That was it. Instead of finding out my side of things related to the matter these hosts just booted the videos my comics were featured in off their channel. They also had admins remove my posts off other platforms related to them. I was blatantly censored by these “artists.”

So looking back I think it had nothing to do with that mini comic. They have featured sexually violent work like Vigil’s. My stuff is tame in comparison. I feel they were threatened by my output and my dopey little youtube channel. Which is laughable. 

I have worked tirelessly my whole career to support marginalized creators in my community and around the world for over 20 years. 

At this point I would rather work with the people who get what I do and dwell in quiet obscurity rather than work with these kinds of self-serving troglodyte hacks that are so prevalent in the medium of modern mainstream comics and the art world. 

Most of these “pro comic artists” are just glorified fan artists with a little bit of stylized skill. I think that’s why all their books are so derivative of all the other stuff in the mainstream lexicon. They dwell in constant nostalgia and their work is proof of it. 

I actually feel sorry for them. To have so little faith in yourself that you have to try to take down other artists is such a sad pathetic way to live. 

One thing you can count on with some artists and comics creators. Their egos are as fragile as glass.

Comics culture in the US is steeped in all this kind of nonsensical dogma. It has become an idiotic cult of reactionary clones with Youtube and Twitter accounts. 

ZL – Thinking about that wider world of community and how there’s always been an underground arts community and sometimes people travelled through them, often linked to universities or small art publications. Do you feel like that community is something that is now easier to achieve and to curate for yourself with social media, but it involves a lot of effort and commitment to do that and that’s why it takes those in a scene, those dug into that creative feeling, to do that kind of curation?

AY – I guess It is easier to find new stuff now, but there is a lot of oversaturation online. Lots of skilled but boring fan art. Way too much fan art online. 

All the crowdfunded stuff is pretty boring and derivative of the mainstream comics they say they hate. Plus there is a high failure rate. Very slow/low delivery rate on those projects that nobody likes to talk about.

I kind of wish the companies cracked down on all the IP theft at shows and online the way they do obscenity. Before the pandemic the comic conventions in the states sucked for indie creators because of all the fanart.

ZL – Yeah, that seems to be a big issue all round, but it’s also tricky as a lot of indie creators make bucks doing commissions of existing mainstream IP. I also think that the move from mini comics and zines to pop-culture sources and attempts to be as professional as professional comics has done a lot of unspoken damage. Yeah, sure, you get a lot of a crowd, but how many are BUYERS?

AY – That is why I stopped making any kind of fanart about 15 years ago including commissions. I think fan art and commissions are a crutch for artists to lean on.

To me it shows a lack of ability to tell stories or have faith in their own creations. They are too afraid to go all in and only make and sell their own comics. They wanna draw cool spidey pin-ups not tell stories with art. There is a huge difference between the two kinds of artists.

The best Mangaka spend their whole careers telling these long form epic stories. We should aspire to that aesthetic not do a bunch of cool variant covers. 

It is easy to draw an existing IP. The design and imaginative work was done for you. You are just a human copy machine. It takes a lot of time and faith to go all in on your own ideas. I think a lot of artists try it and just give up and fall back on selling fan art at shows.

I do great at shows without any fan art. You don’t need it. I think selling fan art actually hurts indie creators. They are selling books for our competition. 

If you just offer people something new and different and work hard to sell that work they will buy it. I offer people something that is unique. Not just another Deadpool print or sketch.

ZL – Do you see yourself as part of a comics lineage, either style or approach wise? Do you feel it’s important to leave your own mark on the world, hence the making of items rather than posting online, or are you interested in building a space for now or are you trying to just get out what needs to be got out to keep your brain quiet?

AY: Comics lineage is less of a thing now because of oversaturation in the medium. Everyone can make and print their own comics now. So the key is to have your own style of storytelling. I don’t like the autobio comics genre but at least they know how to tell a story. 

That’s why I think physical media is still very important. An artist is not curtailed by the formats of printing anymore. You can adjust your style to any kind of printing process now. It used to be the other way around.

Aesthetically I want my work to be as beautiful and be as prolific as Osamu Tezuka was. Dark and creepy as Hideshi Hino‘s. Confrontational and cooky as Mike Diana‘s. With a mad dose of the dark action of a 2000AD Magazine. 

Boiled Angel – Mike Diana

ZL – I don’t know if you’re old enough to remember the Mike Diana obscenity case and the outcome of that ridiculous situation? It was big, even in UK comic magazines at the time. I remember them telling him that he wasn’t even allowed to draw AT HOME and that they would be coming in to check that he wasn’t drawing! So, I guess there’s that as a check to what we were saying about social media silencing creators, it’s not like it’s a new phenomenon, sadly. 

AY – I started getting into making fucked up comics at the same time as him. I was making One Last Day which is nowhere near as extreme or pornographic as Mike’s stuff, but it was really violent. His case scared me into being real careful who I sent my books to. 

ZL – When did you first encounter Mike Diana’s work, then and what’s so inspiring about it?

AY- I have seen more of his work recently. I like the absolute absurdity of it. It was so hard to get out here in the west coast unless you ordered it. I am not a big fan of pornographic or cheesecake comics. I do like some of the cruder stuff that is just too weird to be arousing. The work exists more as a piece of weird art rather than porn in some odd way. I have not gotten to read a ton of his stuff. He is actually a big fan of mine on Instagram. The punk rock kid in me loves seeing a block of “likes” by Mike. I have mailed him a bunch of my comix for trade.If he is reading this “Yo man! You gotta mail me some of your books!” Heh! 

ZL – I’m also intrigued to know how you found out about 2000AD as my understanding is that it’s not well known over in the US. What’s your favourite strip from there?

AY: I got a huge run of the re printed 2000AD and Dredd comics from a comic store when I was 13. I really love the old Rogue Trooper strips the most. They were some of the best sci fi war comics made essentially. Those artists were all emulating those old Action war comics they were reading

Rogue Trooper – War Machine by dave Gibbons and Will Simpson

Rogue Trooper – War Machine is a work of comics art. It definitely inspired a lot in my Blood Desert series. “The Fatties” stories in the early Judge Dredd strips are some of my all time favorite comics. I have read them a hundred times. It is just so nuts. I love that line between absurd and gross.

The Fatties – Judge Dredd

ZL – Oh yeah, those early works were really UK punk as punk can be! I’m surprised you like Rogue Trooper more than Nemesis though, Pat Mills and especially Kev O’Niell’s art is extreme as extreme art gets in comics back then. You mention in many interviews I’ve read that Japanese comics, particularly horror comics, have been an influence. How much influence do you see from Japanese horror comics in small press and self-publishing circles, it’s something I see a lot of in the creators I follow for sure, but I’m wondering what your experience is?

AY – I follow the underground Japanese scene pretty well. I am pen pals/friends with some of the newer japanese horror artists. It is funny. They all wanna get published here and I want to get published there. 

There are huge barriers in Japanese comics for Westerners. I would kill to get World of Knonx published in Japan. It is specifically designed and made for a world audience. It needs no translation. Manga publishers should be more open to Western comic artists the way we have.

I have grown very weary of all manga flooding the market lately. Most of it is just nicer formated versions of reprints of that older stuff I read in the 80s. It is not the weird upcoming stuff you see on the shelves. 

The American publishers bend over backwards to reproduce a lot of Manga but largely ignore American artists working at the same level of productivity. It has become a one way street. 

ZL – I see that a lot of publishers seem less inclined to have cartoony horror, they seem to have decide it must all be cheesecake or more realistic, I mean, you’re not going to see the likes of Shaun McManus on Swamp Thing art chores nowadays, which seems absurd because cartooning lets you play up emotions or gore without it getting all pornographic and seedy. I wonder if part of it is that as well, they want everything in that style. It’s also something that’s changed in horror as well. You think about something like Saw and how realistic those horror movie effects are compared to, say Friday the 13th, it’s changed what horror is. You could laugh at those things, not so much Saw, they’re far more EARNEST and wanting to show things REALISTICALLY.

AY- Yes! Exactly. I have been embracing the cartoon aspect of comics very heavily. Cartooning is dying in comic books not just in the horror scene. Comics have lost the ability to move the fans to a desired emotion.

I think it has to do with the industry’s reliance on writers. Artists are usually more creative and experimental than writers. Artists think in images and writers think in words. Writers can hammer out stories all day. The storytelling artist has to really think about every panel in a conscious way and how it will move the story. Images should drive comics not inane narrative. I should be able to understand the story in a comic by just looking at the art. If not then both the writer and artist have failed. Being able to type does not automatically make your stories interesting. Kirby’s cartooning made all those comics great not Stan and his stupid dialogue. 

  Personally I don’t wanna spend 12 hours drawing the perfect building in a panel that no one will care about. I wanna move the story. Cartooning creates a fluidity through the pages that perfect structure loses. Manga is great at moving you through a story in that way. 

ZL – So, in all of the ways you make things and with all of your feelings about being a part of US comics and international makers, what place do you see your new youtube videos playing into what you do? Is it more boredom relief or is it a way of pumping up awareness of the community you enjoy?

AY: I do the YouTube channel for fun and to shed light on independent creators. I also wanna try to create a new narrative in comics. Not just regurgitate the one fed to us by reactionary corporate comix culture.

ZL – Why the trash talking of something at the end? I ask because I have this pet theory that there’s a strong link between people doing underground comics currently, especially over the top gross out ones, and wrestling and I’m wondering whether that’s a bunch of nonsense I’ve made up, or whether this is like the trash talk between wrestlers, a funny sort of way to make a point about something, to build some low stakes drama? Or, is it a way to disarm a serious point by making it funny! 

AY: A little bit of both I guess. There is some carney action to all creatives who do it for a living. I think a long life as an artist hardens you. 

Comic book artists could learn a lot from Tattooists. Talk to a hardcase who has been making money everyday drawing. The one doing it in your hometown the longest. That is someone who can teach you a lot. They have had to put up with so much stupid shit from customers and society. They have a confidence and respect for their trade few artists do. They have real confidence that is inspiring. They won’t even fuck with some stupid walk-in. They are not gonna deal with some kid who wants a shitty Mickey Mouse tat. Some hokey fan art commission bullshit. People pay them good fucking money for their original style, skill and creativity. Comic artists conceded all that when they settled for being what amounts to storyboarders for ex-TV writers. 

Artists have to always remember Western society devalues you at every turn. You really have to learn to sell your art and self. Your skin better be real thick. You hear “no” and that “you will fail” constantly! You will work your ass off just to barely make it in most creative fields. 

ZL – Yeah, that really comes with the territory, especially if you’re coming at it from an underprivileged background, art seems to still be a very middle class opportunity and still seems to need strong patronage to make a living, so if you’re aren’t populist or aren’t from the right background you need to get money from somewhere else or learn to live cheap. 

AY – Starting out it is always a struggle in any field but comics has kind of embraced and even fostered failure among it’s creatives. A perfect example. No one with the talent level of Tim Vigil’s should ever be living in poverty. Which he pretty much is. If Tim started in tattoos he would probably be pretty set by now. Instead he chose to work in comics. 

ZL – You seem to be really knocking out your comics and developing an amazing backlist. I remember sharing a video where, I think that you were drawing a page from The Lottery, where you were filling in your spot blacks with this chunky dip pen nib and that just seemed like it would take a long time to get work done! So, I’m wondering whether you’ve changed up a gear and started doing lots of work, or am I just in circles where I’m seeing you pop up and you’ve been constantly busy for a long time?

AY – I mainly use a brush for large areas. Sometimes a fat nib. I have had the same process for the last 10 years. I have always had a pretty good work ethic with my art but my tools are just that. Lots of trial and error for the first 5-10 years. I had no one to help or any training. I am a lot faster at inking with some modern stuff but it is still the same process it has always been. I try to only work full time M-F 9-5. I love creating so much I get addicted to it. I will draw 18 hours straight if I am not careful. 

ZL – What inspired you to get making, not necessarily the style you make, but the actual circumstances behind you getting yourself together to put out comics instead of just sketching or posting online? What is the difference for you between posting online and publishing?

AY – Posting online is just a form of promo to me. Online is so ephemeral. I feel printed comics and animation is the best way to tell new stories and get them out. Period. It is hard to say what inspired me to start creating. I can tell you how I create though. 

I have always hated the idea of needing drugs, a muse or constant inspiration as motivation. It is not a sustainable model. It is a crutch for lazy artists to lean on. We all can learn skills and borrow from influences to make pretty art but real creativity comes from our imaginations. 

Clive Barker said it in interview after interview for years! He spoke of how fostering the imagination is being lost and even stifled in today’s world. He stressed the utmost importance for working artists and children to have an active and focused imagination. He is the greatest living horror artist of our age. The Poe of our time and everyone completely ignored him!!

Well I didn’t! I would meditate and do mental exercises daily for years to try and imagine whole working worlds. Clive was 100% right. I don’t get artists’ block or any of that shit. 

This is gonna sound super new age but it is the best way to explain it. With short meditation techniques I can light the fire of creativity instantly now. It can keep me awake some nights if I let it. My mind’s eye fills with the most moving and colorful images you could ever imagine. I have learned to embrace it and snatch stuff from the ether. It’s like a true form of art magick. When I break into the astral plane of endless creativity it recharges my inner being and overwhelms my soul with love, and joy. I am flooded with new ideas constantly. The Buddhists actually have a name for this place but the name escapes me. 

ZL – I remember reading that Moebius, Jean Giraud, the French comic artist took a similar approach, that he drew all his Moebius strips in a semi-conscious state of meditation, so it seems reasonable for you to do the same! 

AY – Exactly! I have read that and felt a kinship with him. I think Jim Woodring works in a similar fashion as well. 

ZL – Yeah, I’ve read that about Jim Woodring as well.

Looping back a second to The Lottery, I really admire the style of character design, the shapes you put down on the page, that I’ve seen in that. I’m guessing, from what you’ve just said, that much of these things arrive semi or fully formed? How much planning do you put into character design and story content and then could you give a general idea to how you approach a story and what you’re trying to achieve with your stories?

AY: Like I said prior, the initial ideas will come like a flood or in pieces. I will mentally “hang on” to my favorite ideas and build a story around them. Once I get most of it all sorted out in my brain I will do some general super loose thumbnails of a story or idea or the whole book. Sometimes I will start with a one shot style story and expand on it. The one shots will inspire more stories or ideas for other worlds as well. 

ZL – I know we touched on this earlier, but I’d like to dig deeper into whether you’re making money and what sort of sales you’re achieving, because, you know, I’m just damn nosey! More seriously though, I think part of making and why people cease making is an unrealistic idea of what can be achieved within an arena. The amount of people coming into comics and underground comix all thinking they’ll end up on Adult Swim or bankrolling a comfortable life always saddens me. You know they will get worn out banging their drum to sell 10 copies and lose hundreds because they completely over print. 

Which is a very tortured way of asking whether you make money from your comics or, at least break even? Are you happy to tell us numbers of sales and if not exact amounts of income, what sort of percentage of your income comes from your comic sales and for context, the kind of lifestyle you currently live?

AY: I grew up pretty poor. I was out on my own at around 17 with zero money. So it has not been an easy road for me in art and comics. I am not complaining, I have made good money off my comix.

I print modestly with print on demand services. I can print a few copies up to a few 100 at a time. It just depends on demand. You don’t need to have a warehouse of stuff. I focus on the stuff that does well.

It took a long time but I am in a great spot on my own. Because of the virus a lot of the mainstream crowd are kind of sitting around with their dicks in their hands. While I am hammering out stories. I am 100% owner of all my titles. I am not an LLC so a corporation can’t get my “creative content” without my direct consent. 

Luckily I don’t really need them. I have done the math, I make way more per page and book then I ever would with a publisher. I can create, print, promo, mail and repeat. I have no need for censors, editors, publishers, stores, mob run distro or other middle men. They are all just standing between me and making the profit from my books. 

No one will admit it, but the Cerebus model is still the best model for creators to sell their comics. If you are serious about ownership. More people should have the same faith in their work as Dave Sim does. Only without being a total jerk. 

ZL – I’m guessing your politics don’t mesh with his, but I think Dave Sim is definitely someone who has lessons for self-publishers and creators alike. If you were going to pass on any of his advice, how would you summarise what you’ve taken from his example?

AY – His politics aside he was pretty cantankerous in most of his interviews but he was not afraid to speak his mind. Everyone is so afraid to speak up in fear of never getting or keeping that “sweet corporate comics gig”. 

Dave was right about a lot of stuff. If you can’t stand up for your own work then who will? Before I started reading all his interviews I thought he was just a jerk but now I kind of get his anger. I could only imagine what the mainstream tried to pull back then when they saw he wouldn’t play ball. What’s worse is nothing has changed really. All the shit he was raving about in comics is the same or even worse. 

I think he was really hated by the industry when he started speaking out about all the shadiness going on. It always felt the comics press started attacking his political stances after he started to state his opinions about the practices of some of these publishers. I don’t agree with him on a lot of stuff politically but he never backed down and stayed true to his ideals. I admire him for that. 

Comics has a long sordid history of trying to silence voices they don’t want to hear. It has happened to me and many others still to this day.

ZL – How long has it taken to build up your back catalogue and what sort of tail end do you currently see on your titles, are we talking release and then forget it, sustained sales over months/years or occasional bumps when you get new titles out?

AY – It took 20 years to build the whole catalogue of large format stuff. I have printed 100s of different minis along the way. I now just mainly sell my larger format floppy and magazine stuff that does well continuously. I do have a goal to be able to fill a whole small magazine size comic book box with all my different floppy comics and mags. 

ZL – And how far away from that goal are you? 

AY – I have never actually checked. I would say I am well over halfway there. 

ZL – How do your sales and income compare to where you thought you’d be when you first started making your comics or did you not really care about that, other than not losing money?

AY: It is a weird thing that exists in indie comics. It is like they are ashamed of making money. 

You hear so much altruism in indie comics. “It is not always about the money man.” Tell that dumb shit to a career tattooist. They will laugh in your stupid face while they make $200 bucks an hour and drive off in their fully customized Dodge Challenger. While you stand there with a handful of comics and empty pockets. 

We should look at indy comics like tattooing or a little like a one man touring metal band or rap act. People wanna buy my books for my nutty unique style. So, yeah I am doing better than I ever could have dreamed of in such a dismal backwards looking field. I would rather be like a Tech 9 or Frank Zappa in comics. 

ZL – Last question, for you as a fan now, if you could get everyone in the world to read one of your books or series and a book or series by someone else, what would it be?

AY: Out of all my books I would say the World of Knonx series is my crowning achievement. I dumped every skill I have developed into one massive tale.

Park Bench – by Christophe Chabouté. It is one of the most amazing comics made in the last few years. It is one of the most beautiful comics ever made. It flows like water. It is the zen of comix. I cried the first time I read It. 

Park Bench – by Christophe Chabouté

I only make silent or wordless comics. So that is mainly what I am into. It is more common in European comics. So I try to mainly follow works coming from there. 

Comics should move us and excite us. Gross you out or move you to a new place emotionally. Not just be inane 80s TV sitcom serials. I am only interested in comics that exist and aspire to be comics. I have no interest in storyboards with dialogue. 

ZL – Thanx for your time Adam!

AY- Thanks for this in-depth interview. It is not often I get to talk deeply about things in comix that I care about. I never really get to explain how I create or how I truly feel about the medium.

I am grateful for the opportunity to speak my mind. To everyone who has ever supported me and my art. I truly frikkin’ love you all!! 

all art copyright and trademark its respective owners.

content copyright iestyn pettigrew 2020

  Adam Yeater, underground comix creator, talks in depth about his practice, his work and how comics remains closed to many outside of mainstream companies #comics #horror #underground #selfpublishing #fantasy #inspiration We spoke to Adam a little while ago about his influences and inspirations and found his answers intriguing, so we decided to dive in and dig a bit deeper.

[mostly-megan]

tag game ★~(•◡•✿) 50 questions you’ve never been asked before

Tagged by my babylove and yours @thick-dick-daddy-mando

What colour is your hair brush?

Black

Are you typically too warm or too cold?

Too cold, which is ironic for someone born and raised in AZ where is is currently 108...

What were you doing 45 minutes ago?

Getting a dental cleaning, I’m all minty fresh baby! ✨

What is your favorite candy bar?

Baby Ruth

Have you ever been to a professional sports event?

A ton of them! Papa and I go to a lot of baseball games and we were always invited to different events for marching band gigs

What is the last thing you said out loud?

“I’ll grab it, thanks!” (I was getting a package outside)

What is your favorite ice cream?

Vanilla or butter pecan, pretty simple and creamy so I can add little toppings

What was the last thing you had to drink?

Blended Iced Christmas Morning Chai with whip and cinnamon/nutmeg from Dutch Bros

Do you like your wallet?

Yes! It’s black with gold, metal lettering on the front that says “Rule the Galaxy” and X-Wing print on the inside.

What was the last thing you ate?

I’m eating pizza right now (So is @thick-dick-daddy-mando apparently, so that’s neat)

Did you buy any new clothes last weekend?

Yeah, I bought some Star Wars tank tops for workouts

The last sporting event you watched?

???????? I watched a college sport with my college competing, but the when’s and what’s are escaping me

What is your favorite flavor of popcorn?

Buttered with very light salt

Who is the last person you sent a text message to?

My Papa 😚

Ever go camping?

Yup! 

Do you go to church every Sunday?

No. I’m still religious, but I gave up on trying to find decent congregations 

Do you have a tan?

I’m a natural redhead, I’m basically translucent. Lots of cute freckles, though!

Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza?

OoOOooooooo, that’s hard. But probably Chinese food

Do you drink your soda with a straw?

No, it gets too bubbly

What color socks do you usually wear?

Most of mine have Star Wars prints and I will not apologize 

Do you ever drive above the speed limit?

NO! I’m a very responsible driver and people in my state drive at 90 mph enough.

What terrifies you?

Disappointing everyone or being abandoned by the people I care about

Look to your left, what do you see?

My mug shaped like an elephant 🐘

What chore do you hate?

Folding laundry

What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent?

Specifically when Steve Irwin was talking about how much he loves his daughter because he never thought a rowdy, muddy guy like him deserves her (I fucking sob every time)

What’s your favorite soda?

Dr. Pepper/Mr. Pibb 🥤

Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thrus?

Drive-thru if I’m by myself, inside if I’m hanging with the homies

Who’s the last person you talked to?

My mama 😘

Favorite cut of beef?

I hardly ever eat beef, unless it’s in something. I like rib-eye steaks, though. 

Last song you listened to?

Burying the Dead by Kevin Kiner off of the Clone Wars Season 7 soundtrack

Last book you read?

I re-read “East of Eden” by John Steinbeck, Pedro reminded me of it recently 

Favorite day of the week?

I’d say Thursdays, too. There is something about the day just before the day everything from my week wraps up. I know everything cool is going to drop tomorrow. 

Can you say the alphabet backwards?

Yup! 

How do you like your coffee?

A little cream, half a spoon of sugar 

Favorite pair of shoes?

My slip-on Converse All-Stars

The time you normally go to sleep?

Around 11-ish

The time you normally get up?

Workdays, 5:30 am. Weekends, it’s anyone’s guess

What do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets?

Sunset, just as it’s hitting dusk when everything is half glowing and half in shadows

How many blankets on your bed?

2, my one comforter and another one folded at the end of the bed

Describe your kitchen plates

White with a navy blue patterned rim, it’s like flowers and vines

Do you have a favorite alcoholic beverage?

......................It’s called a Redheaded Slut and it was given to me as a joke on my 21st, but it’s fucking delicious and I will look bartenders in the eye to order it

Do you play cards?

I mean, I know how to play a couple different games.

What color is your car?

It’s a white truck with a large slate gray stripe that runs around the middle

Can you change a tire?

Yup!

Favorite job you’ve ever had?

Ever, it was interning/subbing at a Montessori near me. Professionally, it’s my current job as a Product Support Specialist helping school set up our online curriculum.

How did you get your biggest scar?

So, I only have one scar and it’s tiny, just above my right eye. I used to jump into my dad’s armchair when he was at work because it was a rocking chair, so it would tip back when I jumped. It was old, so the foot rest had a bit with the wood peaking out. I ran up to the chair, but somehow tripped and hit the wood just above my eye. 

I was a pretty whiny toddler, but I was so surprised and stunned by hurting myself that I didn’t make a sound. I went to show my mom, who didn;t even look up at first, thinking I was just saying I hurt myself for attention (something I did do sometimes because my older brother took up so much attention). She then turned and screamed because she thought I cut my actual eye. She called my dad, a firefighter and EMT, he came down and it was just a deep cut. 

That bad boy fucks with my eyeshadow blending, but you can barely see it.

What did you do today that made someone else happy?

I brought home Dutch Bros for my mama! 

Tagging @hiscyarika @rzrcrst @youmeanmybrain @ithinkwehitametaphor @madadlorian @lesqui and any cool people who want to! 💚

[anxiouslymalicious]

Until the time is right.

Summary: A continuation of Until you’re feeling better in which you find the source of your sudden sickness. 

Word Count: 3,211

Warnings: None that I can think of. Maybe swearing?

A/N: Holy shit this week has been emotionally draining for me. I’m so sorry this is kind of late again, but my dad was in hospital, I am fighting for a new job and everything is just kind of a mess. Thanks for all the support though.

Tags: @mamaskillerqueen @lakef @yourealegendroger @mcrmarvelloki @oh-well1  Wanna be tagged? Just message me please!

“Pregnant?!”, Helen asked you, deeply shocked. She had basically just gotten back and discovered your crying form on her couch. Once more, you had let yourself in with the second key. Ben had a casting day, meaning he had no time to spare at all. He felt bad about leaving you behind, but as you assured him that you would go to a doctor and take it easy, he felt alright about it. Obviously, he asked you to tell him about the appointment, which you hadn’t so far. How could you? This was so unexpected. This was nothing either of you had planned.

You nodded your head slowly as a fresh wave of tears filled your eyes and you broke once more. You were glad you had been able to take yourself to Helen’s flat before breaking down in tears. The last thing you wanted to do was get unnecessary attention by the media. After all, neither of you really confirmed your break up on the media and opted to try and keep your privacy.

“Oh, love.”, Helen was at a loss for words, dropping her bags at the door and hugging you tightly. Your head rested against her chest as her chin was placed on top of your head. You felt your whole world crashing down on you. So many thoughts. So much to do. So many decisions.

“Helen, I don’t know what I’m going to do. Am I- am I going to keep the baby? Am I going to have it? I just-“, you sobbed into her chest, your hands buried in her shirt, holding onto it tightly.

“Shh… I’ll help you through this. We’ll figure out what to do. Don’t worry. I’m right here with you. And so is Ben. And Lucy, Rami, Gwil, Joe and a lot more.”, Helen whispered, trying to soothe you.

“Oh god, what am I going to tell Ben? I can’t tell him I’m pregnant. We’re not even dating anymore. What if he doesn’t want the baby? Or what if he wants it but I don’t?”, you were rambling. Helen pushed you away a bit and cupped your face in her hands.

“Listen up, buttercup. I’m not going to tell you that everything is going to be better in the morning because both of us know that it won’t. This problem will not magically solve itself overnight. What is going to be settled in over night though, is the fact that this is real. I need you to calm down. Then, we’re going to get ice cream and read through as many pregnancy blogs as necessary for you to get a broad picture of this situation. And to figure out what you can and can’t do. I don’t want to be responsible for you fucking up.”, she told you, then patted your cheek lightly before getting off the couch. You just nodded, feeling like she had just talked some kind of sense into you.

Helen looked at you as you shuffled towards her, furiously wiping at your face to get rid of your tears.

It pained her to know that she couldn’t do much to help you. And it hurt her even more that she also couldn’t ask Ben to help you out. No matter how much he fucked up, he still always managed to cheer you up and make you feel better. Perhaps it was something Helen not yet understood, not having found someone to love like that. Well, either that or you were simply being stupid.

Either way, she knew that she had no way of helping you, other than being the best friend she could possibly be. And so, she did just that.

Both of you put on your shoes and Helen made you throw on a sweatshirt to keep you warm outside. Summer was coming to an end and she didn’t want you to catch a cold or something.  

“Can we go to a book shop first?”, you asked in a hushed tone as Helen and you walked out of the apartment building, out onto the street.

“You want to get a few books?”, she asked as her hand rummaged through her purse, trying to find her car keys.

“Yeah.”

Helen nodded, unlocked her car and you both got settled. She drove you to that little bookshop you both had often found yourself in, looking for new worlds to get lost in. You two had a tendency to buy books together, especially as you often found the same themes interesting, and saved money as you each bought different ones and swapped them after you were done reading. This time, however, you had a feeling that it might take you two a little longer than usual to swap those books.

Once you arrived, you wandered mindlessly through the store. You were desperate to find a few books on pregnancies to help you understand and make this feel real, make your baby feel real. Subconsciously, you moved one of your hands to your stomach, softly resting it there. Helen stood nearby, but she let you be. She knew that you would come around once you needed her. So, while you slowly roamed the many huge shelves that gave the store a rustic charm, Helen wandered off with an idea on her mind.

As you stopped before a few certain books concerning the growth of the baby and how soon-to-be mum’s felt throughout the pregnancy, you felt a presence near you.

“Found something?”, Helen asked softly, her voice adapting to the overall quietness of the store. The carpeted floor, the warm lighting, the soothing melodies that played through rather hidden loudspeakers and, obviously, the oh so familiar smell of new books.

You looked at her, a bit surprised at her sudden appearance.

“Sorry, but the cashier told me that they are going to close up soon and I didn’t want you to leave with nothing. We’ve been here for almost an hour, lovie.”, Helen told you, one of her arms wrapping around your shoulder in a comforting manner. You were a bit confused as to why she didn’t hug you from behind, that was, until you spotted the little paper bag in her hand.

“What’d you get?”, you mumbled as you grabbed a few books and made your way towards the till.

“Nothing important. A cookbook my mum has been wanting for quite some time.”, Helen told you, but you didn’t fully believe her. Her mum lived off old family recipes, why would she want to try out something new all of a sudden?

You shook off that thought, paying for the few books before heading off to the closest Tesco to buy whatever greasy food you craved. Helen made sure though that you could actually eat those things. It wasn’t long until you found yourself on the couch in Helen’s flat, skimming through the book and many online articles as you shovelled ice cream into your mouth, just like Helen did. The living room was softly illuminated by the tv screen and a lamp in the far corner of the room. Her light brown hair curled itself lightly and fell out of her messy bun. She had her reading glasses perched on her nose and was chewing on a pen she used to make notes. If you didn’t know better, you would have guessed that she was that innocent pretty student who’s about to get punished in a bad porno.

You had thrown your own hair into a ponytail, the ginger tea you had had earlier to settle your stomach (doctor’s recommendation) started losing its effect and you started feeling more uncomfortable by the minute.

“You doing okay?”, Helen asked her side of the couch, her own voice heavy with tiredness.

“Just think I need a nap.”, you told her. It was already late at night. She just nodded her head at that and mumbled out a ‘same’, followed by a yawn before both of you passed out on the couch. It was slightly uncomfortable, but you couldn’t care less. It felt natural, normal. And you would give everything for some normalcy these days.

Both of you woke up with a start as you heard the doorbell ring. Both of you groaned, your necks stiff from the horrible sleeping positions, your backs aching. One look was all you needed to know that you would settle on ignoring the ringing and hope that it would go away soon enough.

Only, it didn’t.

“I’ll order pizza or something for breakfast, you open the door.”, Helen told you, her hands rubbing over her face to rub away the remains of sleep. You nodded, stretching shortly before going to the intercom and pressing the button.

“Hello?”, you asked into the little plastic device.

“Y/N? I thought you would be here. You weren’t at home and I wanted to see how you were doing.”, you heard Ben’s robotic voice and your eyes widened. All over the living room were print outs of pregnancy articles, pregnancy books and other things that strongly hinted into that direction. You gave Helen a look, who jumped up in panic and grabbed as much as she could and started running off to her bedroom with her arms full.

“Uh… Ben, the flat’s a mess. Maybe it would be better if you came by later in the day- “, you started but were cut off.

“Are you sure about that? I’ve got pancake batter with me and rolls and some other things you two might like for breakfast.”, Ben told you and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. Just in that moment, you felt your stomach growl and your mouth salivating. Baby was hungry and if there was one thing you knew about that tiny bean already, then that it was just as stubborn as its daddy.

You stopped thinking, looking down at your stomach.

Why was all of this so real already? How did this feel so natural already? What in the hell was going on with you?

Helen stopped running around to look at you and made a few wild gestures. You gave her a desperate look. She sighed and gestured for you to open the door for him as she grabbed more trash and papers and ran to her room.

“Alright, come on up.”, you said through the intercom and the door buzzed to let him inside. You grabbed the last papers and dropped them on Helen’s bed, then slowly strolled back to the door of Helen’s flat where Ben was already greeting your best friend with a hug. This wasn’t the first time Bern had been over to hers. He had been here at her birthday parties and other smaller gatherings. Helen was very well aware of the bond you two used to have and she didn’t mind his presence. He could take her sarcastic comments.

He turned to you with a smile and went over to you to hug you. You felt your eyes start to water at his embrace, still unsure of what to do about your situation. One part of you wanted to scream it out at him while the other just wanted to run away.

“Hey, are you okay?”, Ben asked as he heard a small sniffle coming from you.  

“Yeah.”, you told him. “Just ran into the door earlier and now my nose kinda hurts.”, you told him as you stealthily tried to wipe at your tears.

Ben chuckled and made his way into the kitchen where he unpacked his breakfast goodies on the counter. As you tried to help him, he shooed you away.

“Let me, you girls deserve a treat.”, Ben made himself busy, looking through the cabinets for pans and other supplies while you and Helen sat down at the kitchen table.

You gave Helen a slightly bewildered look. This wasn’t the first time Ben cooked for you two. But it hadn’t happened often enough for you to not be a little weirded out at his behaviour.

“Everything alright?”, you asked Ben as he busied himself. The sight of him in an apron, being all domestic made your hormones go crazy. You suddenly felt like the room heated up and grabbed Helen’s knee under the table. She noticed your discomfort and shooed you off to the bathroom.

You washed your face with ice cold water, letting it run over your wrists and even tried to cool down the back of your neck, but nothing seemed to help. After a few minutes, not feeling like you cooled down a bit, you went back towards the kitchen where Ben had already put the first few pancaked onto a plate to cool down and Helen was setting the table.

All of you remained rather quiet, occasionally someone would crack a joke or mention something else, but no real conversation ensued. It felt awkward. You felt awkward.

“I’ve got to ask you two something.”, Ben finally said as he sat down at the table and all of you started to eat. You were looking up at Ben as you drowned your pancakes in different jams and syrups.

“What’s up”, asked Helen as she deemed you unable to reply.

“Well uh… We wanted to throw a ‘goodbye summer’ party as long as it’s still warm enough to be outside at night and I wanted to invite you two.”, Ben stuttered.

“Who is we?”, you asked, trying hard not to make a complete fool out of yourself.

“Roger, Brian, the boys and me. We were kind of… joking around about needing to come together again and about how we would want to see what a Queen party really is like and then decided that it wasn’t that much of a bad idea. All of us are going to invite a few friends, some people who worked on BoRhap and we’re just going to have a fun night. Some drinks, good music, that kind of stuff.”, Ben explained, watching you two intently.

“Why both of us?”, you asked innocently. Curiosity got the better of you.

“Because he knows that you’re not going without the love of your life.”, Helen replied instead of Ben, throwing her legs over your own and placing the sloppiest kiss against your cheek. You squealed, trying to push her off, but she wouldn’t let you.

“Have you replaced me already?”, Ben asked in mocked hurt, his hand on his chest, over his heart.

“It does get kind of lonely in that huge bed. All on my own.”, you sighed theatrically and leaned back in your chair.

“I can’t believe you! Do our food babies mean nothing to you?!”, Ben now stood up, acting like he was going to cry and turned his back to you. Your eyes widened, hand moving to rest on your stomach. Helen pushed it off again, though, as to not alert Ben if he suddenly turned around and instead got up herself.

“She’s making better food babies with me now!”, She told Ben, following him around the kitchen.

“Well, what did we do just now?!”, Ben asked, his face showing confusion.

“We just created a complicated relationship.”, you said through a mouthful of pancake.

Ben and Helen burst out laughing and sat back down on their chairs, going back to breakfast. Everything felt less awkward. Easier. Funnier. Like you were not pregnant and knew where to go with your life, what to do with it.

Once you were all done with breakfast, you and Ben took care of the dishes while Helen excused herself to the bathroom.

“So, it was really just a stomach bug? Nothing serious?”, Ben’s voice was gentle, almost like he feared scaring you away. You had texted him that you were fine aside from a harmless stomach bug after leaving the doctor’s office. And now, you were internally cringing as you knew you were getting caught up in a lie. But you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him the truth. Not yet. You didn’t want to force him back into a relationship he might not want. You didn’t want to force yourself into that either. You just wanted everything to go the way it was supposed to go. Slowly gain trust again, slowly get back together, maybe even get married one day. But not rushed or forced by telling him that he had to man up and get ready to be a father.

“Yeah. Just a stomach bug, nothing serious. I’m alright. Thanks for coming by, Helen and I would have ordered pizza for breakfast if it wasn’t for you.”, you replied, not looking him in the eye. Instead, you carefully dried the plate.

“Well I’m not an avenger, but I’ll be your breakfast superhero whenever you need me.”, Ben looked at you with an intensity that you literally felt. You couldn’t help but look up at him. His green eyes looked at you so softly, so lovingly.

“And what am I then?”, you asked, an amused smile on your lips.

“You are the one who coordinates all my missions. The strong woman behind me who makes sure I got everything I need with me. The one who patches me up after my battles. The one I couldn’t live without.”, Ben had tears in his eyes. His cold and still slightly wet hand met your cheek and you leaned into it. Suddenly, his face was so close to yours, you could feel his hot breath on your face. He smelled of the coffee he just had, but with a hint of the jam he spread on his pancakes earlier. Your own hands cupped his face now, not being able to take the build up and all the anticipation. The pregnancy hormones in you were going crazy. Mere millimetres separated your lips from his.

And that was when something crashed to the ground behind you two.

Both of you turned around in shock, trying to find the source of the ruckus.

And there was Helen. Standing in the doorway. A bowl on the ground next to her.

“Whoopsie.”, she said with a fake shrug and a faked sorry look on her face.

“I uh… Better get going. Still need to go on a walk with Frankie. I’ll text you about the party, Y/N.”, Ben said, his cheeks burning red. He was clearly embarrassed, but you were convinced that you were not looking any better.

“Okay, yeah. Alright.”, you muttered, not completely sure of what was going on. Ben hugged you goodbye, then Helen and then left with his things.

“Why?!”, you almost yelled at Helen as soon as the door was closed.

“Because I didn’t want you to do something you might regret later! Are you really going to forgive him and kiss his sorry arse just because your hormones told you to? Can you trust him?”, she asked sternly, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

You stopped.

Could you? Did you trust him again? Or were you just disillusioned?

You didn’t say anything to her, instead going back to Helen’s room to grab a book and keep reading. Every chapter broke you more. You wanted that. Wanted to be happy with a husband, awaiting your child. But you were not married. And the man you loved had hurt you. And it still stung. And now you were growing his child in your womb.

“When do I tell him, Helen?”, you asked. “How long am I going to keep this from him?”

Helen sat down next to you with a sigh. She watched as tears rolled down your cheeks, dropping onto the pages of the book you were holding in your lap.

“We’re going to keep this baby a secret until you’re ready to tell him. Until the time is right.”, she said and engulfed you in a hug. And with that, you broke down crying once more.

Oh boy, what an emotional time was ahead of you.