#This is only drawing too not animations and that’s a whole another can of worms

[princesskkfish]

How long do you typically spend on a drawing? Of the ones you've posted, which took the longest? Which was the quickest?

it really depends on my mindset and the level of competition I’m going for

Like this one I did was super quick and sketchy and was less then 20 minutes

then there’s ones like this that I do in a few seconds just for kicks and giggles

honestly the majority of the stuff I do is super quick and messy but when I go and actually finish a drawing I spend a bunch more time figuring out the poses and anatomy or layout of my he piece so I’ll spend like 5+ hours on ones like that

some of the ones I’ve spent the longest one is ones like

These ones

and some of my shortest actually “finished” ones was

[persistentplums]

More Venture bro future thoughts p2:

With the timeline as a factor in Venture bros I think Hank would ride the wave of 2000s reality tv and still be an adventurer. After somehow falling into trainings and becoming certified he would probably get the attention of someone who likes his moxy (how can you not) and get him a show.

He runs around the world with a camera guy, and it’s another person pulled into the whirlwind of Hank/ventures. I would like to think bc Dermont is OSI he shows up sometimes. In classic adventure movie fashion there’s always a woman who’s antagonistic (Hank has a type what can we say).

I believe Hank would have an impact culturally like his dad and Jonas but a larger scale. He would be closer to a wrestler/Gordon Ramsey Hell’s Kitchen etc (2000s tv I can’t remember reality tv), dabble in acting, movies, tv, music. Rise of the internet means Hank Nation is a real thing, kids would imitate his stunts, Halloween costumes would be made of him, etc.

Hank would be a bachelor for his life, Hank is great! It’s just he doesn’t slow down, always “on” and all the women he likes kinda want to kill him or he’s into women who aren’t compatible. I would like to think, in a sweet Disney tv show way, Dean kids are trying to set Hank up with someone. Kids can be sweet, and they would love Hank. Even when the kids get older, but whether or not Hank settles down I don’t know. Hank feels like he would grow old and be weird worldly old man in the neighbourhood who has stories upon stories that has loved every inch of the world.

Hank is suited to the quick entertainment output internet put a pedal on so I genuinely think Hank is set for a while. He would make enough to retire still doing everything he does but with the less flashy lifestyle of his career gave him.

Dean definitely hates the idea of being on reality tv so no go for him. Dean helps at Bobbi ranch also with Hank, I’m sure they visit her never officially calling her grandma but it’s the same in energy. Dean gets motivated to help the animals on the ranch, leaning harder into science+biology. Funny enough he ends up in school longer than any Venture but still graduates.

He has bureaucratic messes happening to him, again following timeline of the show we are leaving the classic ages of heroes and villains. 2000s comics were edge on edge, we have anti heroes, villains who do psychological damage (even more) and don’t draw the line. I would like to think Dean who’s already over it, is SUPER over it. A heckler of a “hero”, who weirdly in a Brock sense is a critic of what’s ��classy” villainy and gets under a lot of people skin that way. If his Monday night is ruined then EVERYONE Monday night is ruined too.

I think the boys “team up” a lot Hank is never in the same place but his adventures end up crossing Dean’s a lot. If Dean is sent to the moon to examine the water, Hank is there because he heard there might be massive worms only for both to find a villain who is trying to destroy the moon by digging into parts of it with robot worms. Stuff like that!

Dean is the type of person who has a child with a woman who is his arch. Did he know? Nope. Does she love him? Hm. But I think it would be funny that’s how Dean has kids and how a real villain would ensure their spot as Dean Arch. Visitation and “going to moms” is the most elaborate and dramatic part of each week. The kids probably don’t care, mom has a flying lair they get snatched up by.

It’s a little funny to ME, the whole set up that Dean in an effort to ignore this life he’s in has kids with a person he saw the most of and still didn’t put two and two together. Mr and Ms smith esq except we never really know if Ms.Arch loves Dean or not.

They both love their kids deeply and in a weird way Dean is glad the arch who keeps taking his kids isn’t scary to them she’s incredibly harmless to the kids just dramatic. Unlike Myra or any arch/person that has kidnapped Dean, Hank, or even Doc as kids she makes sure the kids are taken very safely and in fun ways. Then cranks up the heat for Dean for seemingly no reason.

(It’s also against my personal belief that Dean is just straight but I want to believe Jared and Dean get together but I like to think Jared and Dean still have a thing going on even when they get older.)

Dean Arch having his kids was a move nobody would do but she committed to the whole thing with glee idk what he did to her but I think it’s a move Monarch would like so that’s my reasoning. Monarch was trying to fuck RobotDoc I think he would respect the underhanded approach of marrying your nemesis and having his kids but would 100% be so aghast.

Monarch obviously believes in love, the show is all about love so I think it would be a good problem of “modern villainy” mindset. How the game is changing and things don’t stay the same. (She isn’t devoid of love, but with every joke you gotta have a consequence ykwim) with that in mind OSI also has the problem with modernization.

Nobody respects the classics anymore but we can’t keep recycling them, things need to keep moving on and I would think this is a fun problem for all characters to deal with in some aspect. Hank leaning into reality tv, Dean technically married and divorced to his arch, the new wave of villains, what heroes exist organically anymore etc

That’s it! For now!

[creylune]

sometimes on nights i stay up too late, i end up looking at my old deviantart journals from when i was in 6th-7th grade and i rediscover stuff that traumatized me at the time but by now i’ve forgotten/repressed... and then i feel sad for child/preteen me, because some of the things my parents said and did to me appall mid-20s me. like, you seriously said this shit to an 11 year old child? they taught me i can’t depend on others and that i needed to depend only on myself to sort out my emotions. they taught me not to trust others because it can be used as ammo against me. and then anger at my parents today, for completely forgetting all the terrible, disheartening things they said and did to me. forgetting that they yelled at me and said all my interests (drawing, manga/anime, games, kpop) were poisoning me and worthless. for having the gall to tell me (now as a working adult) to open up to them because they’ll always love me no matter what. for trying to push me to get a boyfriend when they’re the reason i actively avoid romantic relationships and intimacy even though i want a s/o (being closeted and still living at home is another whole can of worms 🥰). and i guess trying to be a strong pillar for all my depressed and suicidal friends both online and at school, which then turned into toxic dependency with one friend into college, has made me develop a kneejerk instinct to pull back to a safe distance whenever someone starts relying on me too much. i spent my teens putting up a hard wall around myself while trying to be my friends’ therapist so now that i’m in my twenties i indulge in selfishness and keep my distance from people... which is just self-sabotage when i want to date people lol. 

sometimes i really wonder what it’s like to not have parents who fucked you up during childhood, and to be able to develop intimate relationships like a normal well-adjusted person. it’s a miracle that i’m happy and able to develop and maintain so many close healthy friendships now considering all the misery i went through in my teens.

[yhwhrulz]

Morning and Evening with A.W. Tozer Devotional: August 13th

Tozer in the Morning GIVE GOD THE CONTROL

I know that I am being repetitious - but this needs to be said again and again: our Lord will not save those whom He cannot command! The lifetime God has given us down here is a lifetime of decisions. Each person makes his own decisions as to the eternal world he is going to inhabit. We must decide to take Jesus for what He is - the anointed Savior and Lord who is King of kings and Lord of all lords! He would not be who He is if He saved us and called us without the understanding that He can also guide us and control our lives. The root of sin is rebellion against God, and hell is the Alcatraz for the unconstituted rebels who refuse to surrender to the will of God. There are many arguments about the reality of hell. A man might endure fire and brimstone and worm - but the essence of hell and judgment for a moral creature is to know and be conscious that he is where he is because he is a rebel! Hell will be the eternal domain of all the disobedient rebels who have said, "I owe God nothing!"

Tozer in the Evening Man - The Dwelling Place of God - The Once-born and the Twice-born

CLASSIFICATION IS ONE OF THE MOST DIFFICULT of all tasks. Even in the realm of religion there are enough lights and shades to make it injudicious to draw too fine a line between men and men. If the religious world were composed of squares of solid black and solid white classification would be easy; but unfortunately it is not.

It is a grave error for us evangelicals to assume that the children of God are all in our communion and that all who are not associated with us are ipso facto enemies of the Lord. The Pharisees made that mistake and crucified Christ as a consequence.

With all this in mind, and leaning over backwards to be fair and charitable, there is yet one distinction which we dare make, which indeed we must make if we are to think the thoughts of God after Him and bring our beliefs into harmony with the Holy Scriptures. That distinction is the one which exists between two classes of human beings, the once-born and the twice-born.

That such a distinction does in fact exist was taught by our Lord with great plainness of speech, in contexts which preclude the possibility that He was merely speaking figuratively. "Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God," He said, and the whole chapter where these words are found confirms that He was speaking precisely, setting forth meanings as blunt and downright as it is possible for language to convey.

"Ye must be born again," said Christ. "That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit." This clear line of demarcation runs through the entire New Testament, quite literally dividing one human being from another and making a distinction as sharp as that which exists between different genera of the animal kingdom.

Just who belongs to one class and who to the other it is not always possible to judge, though the two kinds of life ordinarily separate from each other. Those who are twice-born crystallize around the Person of Christ and cluster together in companies, while the once-born are held together only by the ties of nature, aided by the ties of race or by common political and social interests.

Our Lord warned His disciples that they would be persecuted. "In the world ye shall have tribulation," He said, and "Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake."

These are only two of many passages of the New Testament warning of persecution or recording the fact of harassment and attack suffered by the followers of the Lord. This same idea runs through the entire Bible from the once-born Cain who slew the twice-born Abel to the Book of the Revelation where the end of human history comes in a burst of blood and fire.

That hostility exists between the once-born and the twice-born is known to every student of the Bible; the reason for it was stated by Christ when He said, "If ye were of the world, the world would love his own: but because ye are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you." The rule was laid down by the apostle Paul when he wrote, "But as then he that was born after the flesh persecuted him that was born after the Spirit, even so it is now."

Difference of moral standards between the onceborn and the twice-born, and their opposite ways of life, may be contributing causes of this hostility; but the real cause lies deeper. There are two spirits abroad in the earth: the spirit that works in the children of disobedience and the Spirit of God. These two can never be reconciled in time or in eternity. The spirit that dwells in the once-born is forever opposed to the Spirit that inhabits the heart of the twice-born. This hostility began somewhere in the remote past before the creation of man and continues to this day. The modern effort to bring peace between these two spirits is not only futile but contrary to the moral laws of the universe.

To teach that the spirit of the once-born is at enmity with the Spirit of the twice-born is to bring down upon one's head every kind of violent abuse. No language is too bitter to hurl against the conceited bigot who would dare to draw such a line of distinction between men. Such malignant ideas are at odds with the brotherhood of man, says the once-born, and are held only by the apostles of disunity and hate. This mighty rage against the twice-born only serves to confirm the truth they teach. But this no one seems to notice.

What we need to restore power to the Christian testimony is not soft talk about brotherhood but an honest recognition that two human races occupy the earth simultaneously: a fallen race that sprang from the loins of Adam and a regenerate race that is born of the Spirit through the redemption which is in Christ Jesus.

To accept this truth requires a tough-mindedness and a spiritual maturity that modern Christians simply do not possess. To face up to it hardly contributes to that "peace of mind" after which our religious weaklings bleat so plaintively.

For myself, I long ago decided that I would rather know the truth than be happy in ignorance. If I cannot have both truth and happiness, give me truth. We'll have a long time to be happy in heaven.

Copyright Statement This material is considered in the public domain.

[rimaakter45]

Can Axolotls Eat Cheese?

The Axolotl is a carnivorous reptile that obtains its nutrition from animal protein. Fruits and vegetables may provide some occasional pleasure, but do not provide essential nutrition.

Live insects such as nightcrawlers and daphnia are the ideal food for Axolotls, particularly nightcrawlers and daphnia. These can easily be found at your local pet store and don't carry parasites or pesticides that would harm an Axolotl's health. https://axolotl.cyou/

It’s not a good idea

Axolotls possess an instinctive carnivorous nature. They feed on small prey such as insects and small wild fish.

Their teeth are shallow and lack sharpness, making it difficult for them to tear food into smaller pieces. This explains why they suck food in, swallowing it whole.

Cheese is high in fat and low in protein, which will disrupt their digestive system and cause them to gain weight faster than expected. Furthermore, it contains chitin which Axolotls struggle to digest.

They are highly sensitive to toxins and can become sick from them. Therefore, it's best to avoid cheese or any other foods with a hard exoskeleton.

If you want to give your Axolotl a treat, try offering them either worms or crickets. They are readily available and highly nutritious - just remember to wash your hands thoroughly before feeding them!

It’s not good for them

Axolotls enjoy a variety of foods, including frozen ones. Additionally, they enjoy pellets that are high in protein and low in fat.

What type of food you feed your axolotls will greatly influence their health and well-being. Feeding them the wrong things can leave them feeling lethargic or ill.

You should only feed your axolotls foods that are suitable for their species. Make sure they avoid meats with preservatives in them.

Most processed meats contain chemicals which are detrimental to their health.

Axolotls may become ill if they consume certain foods that are too harsh for them, such as cheese which contains high levels of fat and can lead to cardiovascular disease.

However, not all cheeses have this issue. Some contain low levels of saturated fat that could benefit your axolotl's health.

It’s not good for you

Axolotls are carnivorous creatures, feeding on small prey such as worms, tadpoles and freshwater shrimps. Additionally, they consume meat and fish.

However, you should avoid feeding your axolotl cheese as it contains chemicals and preservatives that could pose health risks to your pet. Instead, feed them other foods such as worms, pellets or frozen items.

Another reason it's not recommended for your axolotl to consume cheese is that it could get stuck in their gills and restrict breathing, leading to drowning or even death.

If you want to give your axolotl cheese, it is best to do so when they are still young. Since they have not fully matured and their gills have yet to develop, they cannot fully digest food items yet.

It’s not good for the environment

Despite its reputation as a model of flexibility and regenerative potentiality, the axolotl population in its native habitat of Xochimilco has drastically declined. A combination of non-native fish (including Asian carp) introduced for aquaculture purposes as well as poaching have caused an unprecedented reduction in population numbers.

Axolotls are active at night and hunt underwater for food such as small fish, crustaceans, worms, insects, frogs and snails. Once they locate food they use their keen sense of smell to scoop it up with powerful suction force.

Conservationists working to safeguard the axolotl have seen its inability to thrive as a warning that human populations need to change their practices in order to better protect the environment. They hope that by drawing inspiration from its charisma and vulnerability, these small birds can inspire change within themselves and their communities. Please visit here https://axolotl.cyou/ for  more information.

[tacticalhimbo]

The Night the Lights Went Out (OTP: Quantum Impact)

— Antonia Perryman (Nomad) / Cole D. Walker — It was unlikely there would ever be agreement on how the issue of Junior Lieutenant Vaughan would be solved, but a rising conflict leads to a spur-of-the-moment decision being made. Unfortunately, this decision has opened a can of worms Nomad isn't sure she's ready to swallow. As for Walker? He couldn't be any more sure than he was at that moment.

WORDS: 1.3k

FANDOM(S): Ghost Recon

WARNING(S): Descriptions of Violence and Death

The shot rang out before the solider could get another word in, and the silence that followed was deafening.

It was only broken by the ragged breaths the apparent target had let slip past her lips as grey eyes darted to her companion. She watched his armed hand fall to his side, smoke still hot as it floated off the barrel of his revolver. She watched the back of his head remain steadfast, knowing his gaze was focused on the pool of crimson that sept into the floorboards by his feet. Her gut twisted.

"Walker, what… the hell did you do? He was done!"

"Well, now he's done." Walker's voice was flat. Far from reassuring.

Antonia stood straighter as he finally peeled his gaze from the dead soldier on the ground, turning his body toward her as an unfamiliar expression crossed his rugged features. She studied it, watching the way his lips threatened to curl upward. Watching how a deep scowl settled in those dark eyes of his. He looked not like a man, but an animal. A wolf, snarling over its claim and slow to ease as a realization settled into the air.

He believed had done his job. No more, no less.

"Besides," he began, stalking toward the doorway and briefly pausing before his companion "If I didn't kill that worthless pog, the whole village might have come after us."

An airy scoff left Antonia as he stepped past her, shoulders brushing as she lingered in her place. Without him there, she could see it all much more clearly. See how the younger man stared at the wall to his side, eyes wide and lifeless. A single wound was all that remained, drawing her gaze to his features. Forever horrified by what was to come. He would know no peace, not even in the afterlife (if there even was one). Her mouth struggled to call out, body turning and arm raising in an attempt to grab at the other's uniform. Yet she was unsuccessful, as Walker had already breached the doorframe and found his way out of the room.

"Hey—This isn't right, Walker!" Antonia shook her head and turned on her heel, stomping toward the door, only to stop and spare one last look to their fallen comrade. Her mind raced, breaths growing heavy as she tried to wrap herself around what to do.

Did she radio it in to base? Did she try to move him? Try to close his eyes and stop that damned stare? How would they explain this away? Could they even? Fuck, what was the court going to think of this? She's an accessory. She could have stopped it.

She could have stopped it.

Walker waited by the entrance to the building, weapon holstered and arms tucked over his chest. Much as he wanted, there was no sense in leaving her behind. They needed to get back to base together, or too many flags would raise. Explaining one disappearance was hard enough; trying to explain two, only for one member to show up screeching and hollering was in a whole other league. So when Antonia came stomping out, fire in her eyes, he was glad to see she was still coming along for the ride.

"You ready?—"

"Don't. Fuck, Walker, what the hell were you thinking? And don't give me some short answer. You know the kind of shit you've just put us in? Killing a senator's son? Shooting him execution style? How the hell do you explain that?"

"Like you do every other goddamn time we kill someone. Vaughan was being a jackass, threatening our lives, and we responded accordingly. Ain't no different than taking pot shots at whatever bastards show up on the radar."

It was Antonia's turn to scowl, lips curling as she scoffed. She was stunned. Truly stunned. She couldn't help the curt laugh that slipped out. Her head shook in disbelief, hands raising from her sides as she tried to grasp the logic.

"Really? Because from where I'm standing, it sure as hell looks different. He was done, Walker. Done." She grimaced, looking over her shoulder to the long, dark hallway. "He fired, missed, and was disarmed. You could tell the spoiled bastard realized his fuck up."

"And if he didn't?"

"Then I get shot. You act like I haven't been shot at before— … That's what this is about, isn't it?"

Walker tilted his head, brows furrowing as he tried to follow the sudden jump in tone.

"The hell you talking about, 'that's what this is about'?"

"You wouldn't have given a shit if he shot at you. Hell, you'd probably egg him on. I would've. So, what, you think I can't defend myself? Think because you dragged me out of fire once, you gotta do it every time—"

"That's different, too."

"Like hell it is!"

An uncomfortable silence followed the sudden outburst. Antonia stepped back, adding distance between the pair as she looked around the entryway. Searched for anything else to focus on as she simmered. Walker simply sunk back into his position against the wall, head turning and fixating on the crusted stucco. He shook his head, sighing as he scratched at his arm.

Damn her for knowing him so well.

He would never admit it, but she was right. The sight of her bleeding out, blindly firing ahead as he dragged her into cover haunted him. She was pale as a ghost, color draining quickly as her uniform blossomed with crimson. Her breaths were ragged; strained. There was too much fire to stop and render aid. The best he could do was set her down against the wall and cover her with his own body, leaning over her as he fired out the window. To simply watch as she looked up at him with panic in those collected eyes of hers. She was dying, and the best he could do was sit with his gun in his hands and hope she held out until it all died down. Of course that bothered him! Why the hell wouldn't it have?

And now? With that spoiled army brat having aimed right for her head? Being pissed off was the only valid reaction in his eyes. Vaughan tried to kill her, and he'd saved her.

He did his job, and nothing more.

"… Toni."

The woman's head practically snapped back to him, her expression only softening as she saw his expression falter. As she processed that he'd spoken with that softness he only shared with her. She sighed, closing her eyes and taking a breath as she finally let her defense down. Her shoulders slouched as she let out a long sigh. Wordlessly, she approached him. Closed the distance between them as her hand found his. As her hand pulled his away from his chest, coaxing his fingers to intertwine with hers as she offered a gentle squeeze.

"This is the last time, Walker. I can't keep covering your ass."

"… I know."

"So… here's the plan. We go back. You tell… whatever justification you think up on the drive back. I won't testify if they ask me to. Something about the situation fucked up me, and I'm too out there to pull something coherent. I'm due another psych eval anyway."

Her laugh was dry, shrouded by pain as it settled on her tongue. Still, it brought a small grin to the other's lips. Encouraged him to squeeze her hand and slowly guide it closer. She followed, setting her free hand on his shoulder before withdrawing entirely.

"Want me to drive?"

"Please…" Antonia nodded once more. "Need some time to just… think this through."

"Sure."

The pair left without another word. Spent the long ride back to base in silence, opting to let the chilled desert air seep in through the windows and fill the space between them.

[skzsauce01]

Bird Is the Word

Synopsis: A series of drunk texts leads to one of the best and worst things that has ever happened to you. Or, Han Jisung is never going to let you forget the time you forgot the word ‘bird.’ College AU. Not a text fic but does include some texts.

Warning: alcohol, a lot of bird puns

Word Count: 8.1k

Pairing: fem!reader x Han Jisung

2:23 AM [Me]: sOS SOS SOS SOSOSOS 2:23 AM [Me]: I NEED HELPPPP 2:23 AM [Jisung Bio]: You okay?? 2:23 AM [Me]: YOU SMART HELPPPPP

2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Do you want me to call the police?? 2:24 AM [Me]: WHAT ARE THE FLUFFY ANIMALS THAT GO FLAP CALLED 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Is this a code word? 2:24 AM [Me]: THEY GO FLAP AND EAT SEEDS 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Do you mean birds? 2:24 AM [Jisung Bio]: Are you drunk?

2:25 AM [Me]: [blurry_photo_of_your_window.jpg] 2:25 AM [Me]: HERE LOOK 2:25 AM [Me]: YES BIRDS 2:25 AM [Me]: THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH 2:25 AM [Me]: LOVE YOUUUUU

In your defense, you were drunk. And when you are drunk, your critical thinking skills disappear and are replaced by pure, uninhibited stupidity. It’s like some twisted Jekyll and Hyde situation, but only when you drink, you transform into this other version of yourself instead of suppressing it.

You mostly remember the things you have done and said while under the influence. The most embarrassing ones tend to be fuzzy. If it weren’t for the grainy phone video taken by Seungmin and your own voice cheerfully declaring that you had an idea, you wouldn’t have realized that you were the idiot who tried to make a chalk mural at the four-way intersection in the middle of the night. You didn’t even have chalk, but that didn’t stop you from drawing on the asphalt with a broken pen you found on the sidewalk.

Good thing Seungmin had the foresight to drag you back to the crosswalk before a car could come speeding by.

However, that legendary act of idiocy doesn’t even compare to this new one. Forget the fact that you could have died.

Your biology class just went over survival of the fittest using Darwin’s finches as an example. How in the world did you forget about the word ‘bird?’ Why did you think it was a good idea to ask the cute guy in your bio study group about “THE FLUFFY ANIMALS THAT GO FLAP?” And why, why, why did you insist on telling him that you loved him? The ‘THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH’ was already enough.

Jisung is never going to let you live this down.

It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s not like you spent the entire Sunday morning knocking back glasses of water and wishing it was vodka instead. It’s not like you drafted about five different apology messages and deleted them all. It’s not like you have to see him in class tomorrow.

Really, you’re fine.

You go out of your way to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible, which probably means you are very conspicuous. Do normal people not wear hoodies and sweatpants to class now, or are you just overthinking everything? The two people in the row in front of you are wearing jeans, and the girl heading down your row has a polka-dotted dress on. A secondary glance at the girl tells you that it’s another member of your study group. Speaking of the study group, maybe you should find another one. Preferably one without Jisung in it.

“Morning,” Lia says as she takes the seat beside you. She sets down her purple water bottle on the floor with a light clink. “How was your weekend?”

Terrible, but you say, “It was fine. I finished up the readings and did some notes. How about you?”

“Those readings took me forever!” she groans. “I was trying to finish everything on Saturday, so I could go out on Sunday. Which I did manage to do, so it all worked out. I got a new dress!” She plucks at the bodice of her dress, and you finally take a closer look at the pattern.

They’re not polka dots. They’re freaking birds — swoopy doves with outstretched wings. Or at least you think they’re doves. Your lack of bird knowledge speaks for itself.

“It’s pretty,” you hollowly say. The universe seems determined to remind you of your texts. Lia’s face falters, and you realize your disdain came across as you lying. “No, it’s not like that! Just… bad experiences with birds. You look really nice in this.”

She brightens up. “Oh, thanks! What do you mean by ‘bad experiences?’ What happened?”

“Good morning, birdbrain!”

“That happened.”

Looking far too happy for a Monday morning, Jisung takes the other seat beside you. He has a cup of coffee stacked high with whipped cream and chocolate drizzle, and you wonder if his extreme cheerfulness is from the caffeine or from your impending public humiliation. Why did you have to pick this guy to have a crush on? Sure, he’s cute and smart and sometimes nice, but there are plenty of people who have those traits without his witticism.

Lia looks at you with more amusement than concern. “So what happened?”

You tell her about what really happened during the weekend, and Jisung laughs all the while, reenacting his facial expression when he received your first frantic SOS message. Meanwhile, you sink lower and lower into your chair, ignoring your tailbone’s cries of pain as you slide further down the thin cushion.

“You can’t hide forever,” Jisung remarks as he looks at your slumping form. “C’mon, it wasn’t that bad. And you were drunk anyway.”

Yeah, you were, but the whole thing is doubly embarrassing because of how much you want him to like you. The overenthusiastic, all-caps messages are normal whenever you text while drunk, but ‘I love yous’ and the even rarer ‘I LOVE YOUUUU’  are few and far between. Only six people excluding Jisung have received them: your parents, your best friend, and your statistics group project members because you accidentally sent the message to the wrong chat.

On the bright side, seven is a lucky number. It means absolutely nothing in this case, and it’s hardly relevant to how you’re feeling, but everyone copes differently. Yours just happens to be clinging onto any silver lining available for solace.

“Anyway,” Lia cuts in, saving you from replying, “you’re here early, Jisung.”

He shrugs and flashes her a playful smile. However, his eyes are focused on you when he says, “You know what they say: early bird gets the worm.”

You give him a pitiful attempt of a withering glare. “I hate you.”

“Okay, fine.” He tugs at the shoulder of your hoodie to motion for you to stop trying to melt into the ground and to help you up. “It’s ‘cause I knew you would be here early.”

You are calm, you are fine, you will not be flustered. He just teased you five seconds ago; you should not be this willing to forgive him under these circumstances. Nonetheless, you slide back up to a more normal sitting position and try to pretend that you are still mildly upset. His next sentences make that impossible.

“You guys want brownies? Felix was stress-baking again.”

One may call you easily swayed by food, and they would be right. Jisung lets you have a coveted corner piece, and you decide that he’s alright again. He stretches an arm in front of you to get to Lia, and you lean back to avoid bumping into him. It also gives you a clear view of his profile. Wow, is he pretty. Look at that jawline. Suddenly his eyes go wide, and his mouth splits into a familiar excited grin.

“Are those birds?”

“Yep,” Lia answers, looking over at you to check your reaction. She tries to hide her smile, but it’s clear as day. You’re not entirely sure what she’s going to say next, but you already know it’s going to involve your current least favorite animal species. “Pretty… dove-ly, don’t you think?”

At least you were right about them being doves. “I hate you both.”

Jisung laughs at her pun and holds out his palm for a high-five. “You know what they say: birds of a feather flock together.”

“I really hate you both.”

Your initial prediction that Jisung is never going to let you live this down is correct. When you meet your bio group again Thursday night to study for the upcoming quiz, Jisung brings lemon poppy seed muffins for seemingly no other reason than to tease you. His housemate is still stress-baking, and judging by the bird silhouette made of glaze, Felix is very stressed and very eager to indulge in Jisung’s ideas.

“They’re finches!” Jisung proudly announces as he sets one right in front of you. The stupid decoration on top mocks you, but the muffin looks and smells delicious.  

Hyunjin, who does not know about your current plight but does know about Darwin’s finches, appreciatively coos at them. “They’ve even got different beak shapes! These are so cool. Man, Felix must hate econ right now.”

“No kidding,” you mutter as you begin peeling off the wrapper. Felix must hate you as well because one bite of this is almost enough for you to forgive Jisung again. It’s that good. How are you supposed to stay mad at Jisung when he gives you free delicious food? “Forget college, he needs to be in culinary school.”

He smirks from across the table, and it takes a lot of willpower for you to pretend you’re unphased. “What if I told you that I made these?”

“Then I would call you a liar.” He better be lying. You do not need another reason to justify your crush on him.

“And you would be right.” He slides his plastic container down to Lia, who has just arrived and is eyeballing the muffins like a predator. “But I did help him.”

“It’s really good,” you admit. You continue nibbling on it, determined to make the muffin last as long as you can. “What part did you help him out with?”

“The birds on top. Turns out drawing them with runny glaze is hard. I gave you the prettiest one, so don’t get mad about the whole bird thing. It goes with what we’re studying too.”

“Fine,” you sigh as you fold the wrapper into halves over and over again. “But only because these are amazing.”

Hyunjin leans in closer, effectively popping the intimate bubble you and Jisung were in. “What’s ‘the bird thing?’”

Fortunately, Yeji has finally arrived, which gives you the perfect excuse to stop Jisung from letting another person know of your drunk texts. You make a big production of pulling out your notebook from your backpack and rifling through your pencil bag for a pen.

“Should we get started?” you ask. Lia nods and uncaps one of her many highlighters.

“I’ll tell you later,” Jisung whispers to Hyunjin, winking at you. You could cry, melt, die. You could do a lot of things, but you opt to stick your tongue out at him. So what if you’re being childish? You can barely concentrate on the real world after that wink. To Yeji, he says, “There’s snacks, if Lia hasn’t eaten them all yet.”

“Hey!”

Hyunjin laughs at her notorious sweet tooth before turning to Yeji. “He gave Y/N the prettiest one, so there’s probably only his fails left.”

“They’re not bad!”

Lia has only had two, so there are more than enough to choose from. Yeji peers inside the container before selecting the one closest to her.

“Is this a plague doctor?” she asks as she suppresses a laugh. “It’s got a top hat.”

Jisung shakes his head and groans. “You chose the worst one on purpose. It’s one of Darwin’s finches. You would have known if you studied.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t draw.” Taking no notice of Jisung’s affronted expression, she takes out the textbook the five of you split the cost to buy. “Okay, plague doctor cupcakes out of the way, what are the four main theories of evolution?”

“They’re lemon poppy seed finch muffins,” he clarifies.

“That’s not an evolution theory,” Hyunjin cheekily replies, earning him an elbow nudge from Jisung and a laugh from everyone else.

You end up answering Yeji’s question and reward your correct answer with another muffin. Besides them being addictive, you’ll need some energy for the rest of the study session if all this talk about birds persists. You select the most plague doctor-ish one out of the box, and Jisung notices.

“Seriously?” he pouts. “I give you the best one, and this is how you repay me? I thought you said you weren’t mad about the bird thing.”

You ignore the last sentence. “What? You’re not proud of these?” you say, mock astonished as you give him a good view of the glaze on top. “They look exactly like plague doctors.”

“I hate you.”

You smile and shrug before returning back into the discussion about Lamarckism. Let him get a taste of his own medicine.

Unfortunately, as promised and as possible revenge, Jisung tells Hyunjin about ‘the bird thing,’ and Yeji overhears since she is only two chairs away. You try melting into the ground instead, but Lia holds you in place as the story continues, so you are stuck reliving the memory. You knew Jisung wouldn’t let you forget, but you didn’t account for everyone else in the group finding out and joining in on the torture.

But thanks to Jisung’s brilliant idea to bring those spectacularly decorated muffins, he doesn’t go unscathed either. It’s a mediocre consolation prize, but you’ll take it.

All around, it’s a productive study session, if a bit long, courtesy of everyone’s unrelenting shots at you and Jisung.

Your study group splits off in three separate directions once you’re all at the library entrance: Yeji back to the on-campus dorms where she’s an RA, Hyunjin and Lia to the off-campus apartments a few streets down, you and Jisung to the bus stop to your apartments on the other of campus. There’s a few people already sitting at the bench, so you and Jisung stand under the streetlight nearby. A moth intent on reaching the light source rams itself repeatedly against the glass covering, and you tiredly watch it. You yawn.

“Not much of a night owl?” he asks. With no clever reply ready, you gently shove him towards the bushes, but he only sways at your push. He throws his hands up in surrender. “Alright, I’ll stop for today.”

“I’m really sorry for sending you that,” you say. You haven’t touched the chat between you and him since the incident. “And for not apologizing earlier.”

“It’s alright. Although I almost had a heart attack when you sent me ‘SOS’ like five times.”

You grimace as you remember your frantic texts. If you think back hard enough, you remember furiously tapping at your screen, trying to get his attention as quick as possible because you really, really, really needed to know what the animal that landed on your windowsill was called. Your housemate was in the next room over. You could have asked her instead, but no, you decided that Jisung from bio was the best option. Not even the group chat, just Jisung himself.

“Sorry again,” you weakly reply.

“It really is alright. Finding bird puns is my new favorite hobby now.” He wryly smiles. “I have so many more to try on you. You’re gonna love it.”

Is that endearing or annoying? Living rent-free inside his head isn’t terrible, especially since he seems to do the same in yours. You’ll probably have to endure lots more puns from him in the future, but for now, you’ll decide that it’s endearing.

The bus arrives, and you sit in the back with him. The ride to the apartment complex is quiet; only a group of people near the front are speaking to one another in low voices. Jisung makes no attempt at continuing the conversation, and you are content to stare out into the neon lights outside the window. You can see him in the reflection on the glass. The empty container devoid of muffins sits on Jisung’s lap, his phone placed face down on the lid. If it weren’t for all the other passengers on the bus, you would be convinced that it was just you and him, enjoying each other’s company.

You’re almost sad when you reach your stop.

“Do you want me to walk you to your apartment?” he asks as you step down to the pavement. “Yours is farther down, right?”

“Isn’t your place right here?” you say. You’ve seen him walk out from this particular complex several times while waiting for the bus. That’s not stalking. “You don’t have to go out of your way. It’s just a block away.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely walking you home.”

You hesitate a bit, but Jisung is already taking small steps in the direction of your apartment. A little more time with him doesn’t sound too horrendous right now. “Okay.”

Just like the bus ride, no conversation, which suits you fine. Jisung seems more enthralled by looking into the windows of apartment residents anyway. You can’t blame him, especially when it appears that someone is having their own mini rave in their living room. Once at the doors to your building, you thank him and tell him good night.

“No problem and good luck tomorrow.” His voice is softer at night, or maybe it’s because he’s tired as well.

Your tone matches his as well. “You too. See you in class then.”

“Good night.”

A few minutes after midnight, just as you’re about to get into bed, a message from Jisung pops up. Not Jisung in the study group, just Jisung.

12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: Hey, I know you’re not much of a night owl, so would you call yourself a morning lark? 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: You’re always an early bird to class 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: Are you emu-sed? 12:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: :D

Well, he did say he would stop for the day. It’s technically the next day. You reply with an annoyed face before burrowing yourself under your blankets. There are other things to worry about, such as your quiz in nine hours.

You dream of birds, namely finches, that night. Thanks, Jisung.

“This is why I tell you to never drink alone,” Seungmin laughs. He picks up the last slice of pizza from the pan and folds it in half like the heathen he is before taking the first bite. “Bad things always happen.”

“To be fair, Ryujin was home.”

“In a completely different room from you.”

You groan and supplement your exasperation with an extra aggressive tear on your crust. “Okay, fine. I’ve learned my lesson. The point is, he won’t stop with the bird jokes, and I’m going insane.”

Seungmin, having been collateral damage from your drunken mishaps before, is unsympathetic. He still hasn’t quite forgiven you for the time you tried to make a Molotov cocktail in his kitchen. Look, the clickbait video you watched online promised that it would be a fun and easy science experiment, and your other self decided that it was a fantastic idea. Nothing bad happened in the end though since you couldn’t find a lighter. So, Seungmin, it really wasn’t that big of a deal.

“You have a crush on this guy. Why are you upset that he’s flirting with you?”

“He’s cute until he opens his mouth and starts giving me grief about birds.” You sigh as you remember the last text he sent: a photo of the sunset from his apartment window with the caption, A bird’s eye view of the neighborhood. On one hand, you were thrilled to have received a non-homework related picture. On the other hand, bird joke.

“You would do the same.”

“I know, but it still sucks.” You wipe your fingers with a napkin and amuse yourself with spinning the empty pan as Seungmin (slowly) finishes eating. “No more Jisung talk. How was your date?”

Seungmin turns flustered, just like you knew he would. “It wasn’t a date! I’m just her photographer. This is a business arrangement, nothing else.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”

“Hey, is that Jisung over there?” he asks, nodding over your shoulder.

“I’m not that gullible,” you sigh, though you can’t say you aren’t tempted. Seungmin loves to make fun of you, and he probably wants to get back at you for teasing him about the girl he’s been spending a suspicious amount of time with.

“Gull-ible?”

“Not you too," you plead. It's already awful with one person. To deter him any further, you continue, "Anyway, back to your definitely-not-a-date date—”

“Hey, Y/N, is that you?”

Seungmin has his “I told you so” face on. After sending him a glare, which he promptly pretends not to see, you turn around, resting your forearm on the back of your chair. Jisung, holding a pan of oven-fresh pizza, smiles back at you.

“Hey,” you greet. He's wearing the same black and red sweatshirt he usually has on, but why does he look so much better in it when he's in a pizza place than in class or in the library? “How are you doing? How’s your Saturday so far?”

“I just woke up like an hour ago, so it’s been pretty good, I guess.” His eyes go to Seungmin, who is now sipping on his soda, pretending to not eavesdrop. “Is this your…”

“This is my friend, Seungmin,” you quickly answer. Other than the fact that you need to make it abundantly clear that you are available, there is no way you’re ever going to date Seungmin. Apart from the girl he claims to not be dating, he’s even more merciless when it comes to reminding you about your drunken ideas. You can’t pass the intersection without him nudging your arm. “Seungmin, this is Jisung. We have bio together.”

Seungmin nods like he hasn’t heard of Jisung before. “Hey, nice to meet you. So, do you guys learn about birds in bio?”

Jisung lights up like a Christmas tree, and you want to cover yourself with the pizza pan. Praying for the ground to swallow you up also sounds like a decent option. In the midst of debating whether hiding under the table would be too odd, you notice that Seungmin has finally finished his slice.

“We should get going,” you interrupt. You do not need Seungmin to start sharing other stupid things you’ve done. He’s about five seconds away from telling Jisung about the intersection chalk mural. “And you probably want to eat dinner.”

Jisung sees right through your act, but he lets it go. “Yeah, Felix is probably starving. See you on Monday?”

“Yeah, see you.”

You expect him to go to wherever Felix is, but he still remains behind you. With a lopsided grin, he asks, “Should I expect any quail-ity texts at 2 AM tonight?”

Seungmin laughs, Jisung laughs, and you stare at the ceiling, wondering what you did to deserve this. Surely there were other people you could have in your life besides these two jerks.

“Winner, winner, chicken dinner!” Jisung sings as you correctly answer his question. This week’s study session consists of a game show Jisung has created, and you almost want to believe that he put in all this effort just to say that phrase. “Another point for you.”

You sigh as Yeji slides a wrapped piece of candy towards you. It’s her turn to bring snacks, and though milk chocolate the size of golf balls are great, you’re still dreaming of those wickedly delicious cake slices Jisung shared with you yesterday. Hummingbird cake, he claimed, it was called. Bananas, pineapples, and pecans, all combined together to make a sweet treat. When you cheekily asked why his housemate was so stressed all the time — you really don’t mind. Sorry, Felix — Jisung cheerfully informed you that he made the entire thing himself. After you picked up your jaw from the floor, you stammered something about it being passable. Not nearly as good as Felix’s stuff, you said, lying through your teeth. Jisung, again, saw right through it but let it slide. See? Sometimes he’s nice. However, you did not need another reason to be attracted to Han Jisung, but here you are.

“Seriously, Yeji?” you mumble as you pull apart the blue foil. “You just had to pick the brand named after a bird?” It doesn’t stop you from popping the chocolate into your mouth though.

“They were on sale!”

While you and Yeji bicker about Dove chocolate and how the universe is conspiring against you, Hyunjin answers the next question correctly. Yeji absentmindedly pushes his reward towards him.

“No chicken dinner for me?” he asks.

Jisung shakes his head. “Your question was easy. You get a pheasant instead. Or a quail. Any bird smaller than a chicken works.”

“A hummingbird then?” you suggest. You really need to stop thinking about that cake. “But I hear those aren’t that great.”

“You already ate every single crumb of that cake I gave you!” Jisung says, but there’s not a drop of displeasure in his tone. In fact, he seems rather happy that you liked it so much that you remembered about it. “All my hard work gone in five seconds.”

“You made her a cake?” Lia gasps in disbelief, secretive note checking forgotten. She’s in last place with only six points, so no one cares too much about her cheating. “What about us? We’re your study buddies too!”

Hyunjin and Yeji chorus their agreements, and you realize that he only shared his cake with you. He followed you out of the lecture hall and gave it to you in a plastic container, so you assumed that he also hand delivered a few slices to everyone else. Never mind that he oh-so-conveniently had a fork with him. Never mind that he sat with you at a bench and watched you try a few bites before devouring it all. Never mind all that.

Wait. Does this mean he likes you too?

You fold and unfold your discarded foil wrappers as you contemplate over this revelation, sneaking glances at Jisung all the while. He looks… normal. Infuriatingly so. Same carefree smile, same arguments with Hyunjin, same lackadaisical chair leaning even though he fell backwards that one time. How is one supposed to tell if someone actually likes you when said someone is the same all the time?

Jisung promises to bring something for the next study session to make up for not sharing his cake and continues on with the review game like nothing has happened. However, those thoughts are still in the back of your mind when the session ends. You have gained five more pieces of chocolate and no further information as to whether Jisung is actually into you or not. As per usual, you and he head to the bus stop together. It’s more crowded than last week since it’s only eight.

“Did you have a pheasant time today?” he asks, pausing next to a hedge.

You keep your eyes on the asphalt instead of looking at him. It’s much easier to pretend you’re calm when you don’t have vision of his face. “I see you discovered pheasants recently. And yes, it was fun. Thanks for making it.”

“You don’t want to crow about winning the game?” When you grimace — you did kind of want to point out how amazing your score was but now you don’t — he quickly adds, “Okay, okay. But you’re going to ace that quiz tomorrow.”

And you simply say, “I know,” because you are and because you have nothing else prepared to say.

It goes quiet, and with only the sounds of cars racing by, Jisung abruptly says, “This is a little awkward now. Or should I say… hawk-ward?”

You groan and break your staring contest with the road to give him an exasperated look. A mistake because he’s smiling so wide, squirrels would be jealous of his cheeks. He has no right to be so cute after those jokes. “Why do I feel like you searched up ‘bird puns’ online and are trying to insert them in every possible scenario?”

“Because I did and because I am.” He sighs in contentment. “Those were the best texts I’ve ever received. I’m never letting you forget it.”

You were right about that, and now you have verbal confirmation from the man himself. Another mediocre consolation prize you will gladly accept. But for now, you say, “Well, toucan play at that game, plague doctor Han Jisung.” The only perk of hearing all these wretched jokes is that you are now rather knowledgeable about them. Thank you, Seungmin, for making that one a few days ago.

“They looked just like finches!” he protests, but he’s laughing along, head tilted back. He sighs again. When he turns to face you again, his eyes are soft. “That was a pretty good one.”

“Seungmin came up with it.” There’s a warm feeling spreading across your chest, constricting your air flow and making all your blood rush to your cheeks. It was one compliment; why are you like this? What are you going to do if he keeps looking at you like that? You swiftly go back to the road, counting the number of cars that pass by. One, two, three, four…

And a gray bus pulling up to the curb.

“Bus is here,” you uselessly announce. Jisung follows you into the growing crowd surrounding the entrance. He hovers behind you as the two of you wait for the people in front to board, and his presence is more palpable than usual. “There’s a lot of people today,” you remark in a vain attempt to distract yourself.

“Yeah, everyone’s heading home for the day.” He pauses dramatically before adding, “The birds are all going back to their nest.”

The joke successfully snaps you out of your haze. “That’s not a real saying.”

“I think it should be. It makes perfect sense!”

“You’re—” As the line shuffles forward, you try to think of something bird related, but he beats to the punch.

“Cuckoo?”

It’s almost impressive how much time he has invested in annoying you. Does it make you fall for him more? No, not really, or so you try to convince yourself. It’s strangely endearing, just like everything about him. You merely answer, “Yes.”

He chuckles and nudges you forward up the steps of the bus.

Even though there’s a little bit of daylight left, Jisung walks you back to your apartment building. You’re not upset by this, but where was this chivalry two weeks ago after the first study session? You teasingly ask him about it, and he turns bashful. How unlike him.

“I thought you lived in my complex, for some reason. You were always at the bus stop before me, so I assumed you lived nearby. I didn’t know until I overheard you and Yeji talking about it,” he says, hiding himself with his collar.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” you say, stopping in front of the walkway to your building, “see you tomorrow then. Thanks for walking me back. Good night.”

The Jisung you’re used to seeing, is back with a mischievous smile and yet another joke. “Good night-ingale.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and try not to seem too amused by it. He’s not charming, not even a little bit. “That was awful.” It’s the smile, you tell yourself. No one should have one like that. It has too much power.

“Yet I can see you smiling at it.”

Remain calm. You can do that. You’ve faked this before, so why is your head not cooperating right now? Jisung really needs to stop looking at you with anything more than a neutral face. It’s bad for you, like really, really bad. No witty remarks at the ready is typical, but you can’t even think of anything to say.

After an excruciating five seconds, you manage to stammer out, “Good night.” Cheeks aflame and your heart threatening to pop out of you like a cuckoo clock, you roughly yank open the door and bolt up the stairs. You have too much adrenaline in you right now. Waiting for the elevator knowing that he could be observing your twitchy movements, would be too nerve wracking.

Ryujin asks if you’re alright when she sees you hunched against the kitchen counter, out of breath and muttering to yourself.

“I decided to take the stairs,” you say, which only partially explains your dishevelled state. “I’ll be alright. I think.”

“I’ll get you some water. You look like you're about to collapse.”

Then your phone chimes with a new message, and you decidedly won’t be alright.

8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: Did my nightingale pun quack you up that badly? 8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: Was it that ducking good? 8:22 PM [Jisung Bio]: :D

8:23 PM [Jisung Bio]: Anyway, good luck tomorrow. Sleep well and sweet dreams, morning lark

There is no food in the fridge. Well, no proper food. A bag of spinach that expired three days ago but still seems okay, does not count. The same goes for the half empty jar of peanut butter, but Ryujin would likely disagree with that. There’s a reason why the jar is half empty. However, if you actually want to eat something for dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow, you need to go shopping.

For some strange reason, it does not occur to you that you can run into Jisung at the grocery store. Jisung belongs in four locations: the bus stop, the lecture hall, the library, and the pizza place you saw him at last week. Not the dairy aisle on a Wednesday night.

“Hey.” You stop in front of him, basket at your feet and hands folded in front of you like the world’s worst defense. Heart, stop beating so fast.

Jisung looks up from his phone to search for the owner of the voice and brightens when he sees that it’s you. “Hey, morning lark.” He has taken to calling you that ever since he sent that particular message. You wish it produced another reaction from you besides pure bliss, but that is the price you pay for pretending to be still annoyed by his jokes. That’s how bad your crush on him now is; you are increasingly beguiled by the puns. “Oh, did you need milk?”

“Yeah.” You grab a blue carton with a picture of a smiling cow from the shelf and place it in your basket. In the meantime, you can’t help but peer into Jisung’s. There is a bag of chocolate chips and a packet of gelatin. “Is this stuff for tomorrow’s study session?”

He nods and grabs the same brand of milk as you did. You get a rush of excitement, much to your chagrin. It’s just milk, and this is the most popular brand too. “Yeah. Felix is trying a new recipe, so you guys get to have some of the failed ones too.”

“What is it? Cheesecake?”

“You’ll see,” he mysteriously says. Then he adds, “You’re gonna love it,” which immediately gives away the theme.

“It’s something to do with birds, isn’t it?”

“You’ll see.”

And when you do see, you’re wrong. Library food rules ignored, at each seat, Jisung has set a slice of layer cake topped with chocolate ganache, no bird motifs of any sort. You take your usual spot at the end of the table and find that yours is slightly larger than the others. Well, except for maybe Lia’s. He has to placate her sweet tooth and her disappointment of not being able to have hummingbird cake.

“Did I not get a message or something?” Hyunjin asks when he takes in the over-the-top display. “Is this a dinner party?”

“Isn’t this against the library’s rules?” Yeji asks as she surreptitiously looks around for any librarians. The surrounding tables of fellow students won’t care.

Jisung elects to not answer Yeji’s concerns. “This is tonight’s snack,” he proudly replies. “Also, Felix wants feedback on it.”

You cut a section off with the plastic fork and marvel at the airiness of the cake. It’s unlike anything you have ever had. The frosting in between the sponge layers is so light, and the ganache is so dark and rich. “This is really amazing. It’s so fluffy. Wow. Tell Felix that he really needs to consider culinary school.”

“Wanna guess what it’s called?”

“Isn’t this just an extra fancy vanilla cake?” you ask. You take another bite, but other than the chocolate ganache on top, you can only taste vanilla. “I don’t know. The… vanilla fluff cake?”

“Nope.” He leans forward, face inches away from yours, lips curled into a smirk, and slowly says, “Bird’s milk cake.”

This can’t be real. Birds don’t even produce milk. “No way. You’re lying.” Even as you say the words, they sound false to your ears. Jisung has made it his mission to find anything and everything bird-related for you, so you doubt he’s lying.

“It’s called this” — he holds up his phone screen — “in Russian. It translates to ‘bird’s milk.’”

Ptichye moloko.

“You convinced Felix to make this, didn’t you?” you say. What are the chances that Felix conveniently wanted to make bird’s milk cake without any nudging from Jisung? Absolutely none. You have never even heard of this dessert before, let alone by it’s Russian name, and you’re willing to bet that Jisung searched up ‘bird cake’ or something of that nature just for this. Maybe that’s how he found out about hummingbird cake too.

“It’s all for you, morning lark,” he cheerfully replies, winking at you. He leans back in his chair again, precariously balancing on the two back legs. “I knew you’d like it.”

Jisung is really not making this easy for you. Forget subtleties, he’s just shamelessly flirting with you now. And in the sanctity of the library of all places! In a poor attempt to save yourself from this mess, you unconsciously begin to slide down the chair, trying to shield your hot face with your raised shoulders. Lia notices this — one of the perks having sat next to you for nearly four weeks during lectures — and grabs your forearm.

“No melting,” she reminds you, “or else you’re going to hit your head on the seat again.”

“I wasn’t melting,” you protest as you wriggle back up. Slowly dying might have been a better descriptor. That wink shot arrows into your already fragile heart. “We’re gonna get in trouble if one of the librarians sees this.”

“Guess we should get started then,” Hyunjin says. Yeji, the only responsible one in the group, begins pulling out the textbook, and everyone laughs at her eagerness. “Not what I meant, but that too.”

After you’re done with the cake and while the others are preoccupied about the timeline of human evolution, Jisung whispers across the table, “Did you still like it?”

“Yeah. No hard feelings about the name because it was good,” you whisper back.

“I thought it would turn out like this, morning lark. I know you love free food too much to be mad.”

The nickname again. You rest your cheek against your palm in a vain attempt to tamp down the growing heat. “Can I get a different name, plague doctor?”

He’s not at all phased by his own nickname, which doesn’t bode well for any future snarky remarks from you. “What, you don’t like birds or something?” He blinks so innocently back at you that you have to stifle a giggle.

“Yeah, well, that’s the—”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Hyunjin interrupts, making you profusely blush and Yeji lightly laugh at the expression, “we’re gonna move on to the next section now. Is that okay?”

“It’s okay,” you reply even though you are most definitely not okay. Jisung, who you notice is uncharacteristically sheepish, echoes your sentiment.

It’s difficult not to stare at Jisung during the remainder of the study session. It seems to be true the other way around as well.

You’re sober when you read the messages, but you don’t think Jisung was when he sent them. Oh, how the tables have turned.

3:02 AM [Jisung Bio]: Good morning morning lark!! 3:02 AM [Jisung Bio]: Winner winner chicken dinner remember? So yes or no?

3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: Or maybe yes or yes? 3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: I really want to go on a date with you 3:03 AM [Jisung Bio]: Not lying I swear

3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re always on my mind and every time I see a bird, I think about you 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I bought grey goose because of you 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: [jisung’s_hand_holding_grey_goose_vodka.jpg] 3:04 AM [Jisung Bio]: I don’t even like it that much

3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: You make me dizzy sometimes and I don’t know what to do 3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: You’re probably sleeping so good night larky 3:05 AM [Jisung Bio]: Or morning

3:06 AM [Jisung Bio]: Fly high in your dreams!!!

He must have been wasted and under no responsible supervision because this is what you would have done if you were in his place. Does he not have a Seungmin in his life? Or a Ryujin? There’s a Felix, so where was he when all of this happened?

But forget about Jisung’s own problems.

He wants to go on a date with you. A real date, not a study date with three other people and fake quiz questions. If his words are to be taken literally, then one involving a chicken dinner. Possibly a rotisserie chicken from the grocery store, but a chicken dinner nonetheless.

He can’t stop thinking about you. All those bird jokes had you charmed, and all those cakes were baked with you in mind. They weren’t just for show. They were all about you.

You make him dizzy, which is hilarious because he does the same to you. He smiles at you so brightly, laughs so easily, and flirts so shamelessly that you never realized that you could ever make him feel that way.

And “fly high in your dreams?” You’re practically soaring in real life. Han Jisung, cute bio boy, plague doctor, pun enthusiast, surprisingly decent baker, wants to go on a date with you.

You, you, you!

While you alternate between hyperventilating and forgetting how to breathe as you process all this, three gray dots appear at the bottom of the chat. You clutch your phone as you wait. Apparently, your body is on the ‘forgetting how to breathe’ cycle.

11:14 AM [Jisung Bio]: I am so sorry about that. I was very drunk when I sent that

11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: You can just ignore them or delete them 11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: Highly recommend deleting 11:15 AM [Jisung Bio]: Also sorry if I woke you up

Your fingers hover over the keyboard. Should you answer him over text, call, or in-person? Is in-person too dramatic though? You feel like something like this is supposed to be done face-to-face, but he’s probably hungover beyond belief.

11:16 AM [Me]: It’s okay. A morning lark is always up early anyway :) 11:16 AM [Me]: Were you serious though?

11:17 AM [Jisung Bio]: Can we meet up in an hour? At the bus stop? I want to talk to you 11:17 AM [Me]: Yeah. Me too

The bus stop is neutral territory or maybe just the closest meeting spot you and Jisung have. If it’s supposed to be neutral territory, it most definitely is not since his apartment complex is right behind it. Despite his close proximity to the spot, you arrive first, so you make yourself as comfortable as possible underneath the sign, standing in its shadow. It’s silly when you think about it, but you wish you dressed in something nicer than a hoodie. In your rush to leave the apartment, you threw on whatever, but maybe you should have worn something prettier for this confrontation. Make Jisung go dizzy and gain a little bit of power from that.

This is even worse than when you had to face him after you sent your drunk texts. At least then it was just a middling attraction and not a full-on crush.

“Hey, morning lark. You’re early. As expected.”

“Hey. You’re… alive.”

Jisung is strangely fresh-faced, not a hint of hungover clouding around him. Why can’t you look like him after a night of seemingly heavy drinking? Where are the pinched eyebrows from the blinding lights? The ghostly gray face? The haunted eyes as one remembers all the incredibly stupid things they did the night before? Unfair. Completely unfair.

“Yeah.” He’s wearing his usual sweatshirt, but his hands are stuffed into its pockets instead of being out and about. He rocks back and forth on his heels. “Well, uh, I meant everything I sent. And I’m serious about taking you to dinner, so do you want to go on a date with me?”

You anticipated this. Why does it feel like you have just finished running a marathon? “Yeah, I do. I really want to.”

He smiles so brightly, the sun would be jealous. Correction, should be jealous. You don’t think you’ve seen a prettier sight than this since he sat down next to you on the first day of class and asked if you wanted to start a study group. He pumps his fist in the air like he’s a movie character, and you hide your laugh behind your hoodie sleeve. You’ve never seen him so happy before.

“How are you not hungover?” you ask as he raises his face to the sky, taking in the afternoon light, basking in the moment. He’s really living his movie character dreams. “You said you were really drunk.”

“I kind of lied?” he says, sounding more wistful than you would expect. When he looks back at you, you finally see dark circles underneath his eyes, but he is still as jubilant as before. “I was more tipsy than drunk. So, when do you wanna get that chicken dinner, winner, winner?”

It’s amazing how shy, excited Jisung disappears and how the usual casual, teasing Jisung reappears. That’s his Jekyll and Hyde moment, you suppose. And the switch is all activated by his one-track mind of bird jokes. How wonderful.

“Next week, after midterms? I’ve got two this week to study for. I should be free on Friday night.”

He enthusiastically nods. “Sounds good to me.”

2:57 PM [Me]: I’m done with all my midterms! Are you free tonight?

2:59 PM [Jisung Bio]: Free as a bird :D 2:59 PM [Jisung Bio]: Also congrats on being done 2:59 PM [Me]: I hate you

3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: So chicken dinner? The restaurant next to the pizza place just opened 3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: I heard it’s really clucking good 3:00 PM [Jisung Bio]: A hen out of hen

3:01 PM [Me]: I might actually kill you during our date

3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: Don’t you mean 3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: [flock_of_crows.jpg] 3:02 PM [Jisung Bio]: Murder :D

3:05 PM [Jisung Bio]: I’ll see you at 6? 3:05 PM [Me]: See you then

You do not end up murdering Jisung on your date, though you do come pretty close after you audibly ask the ground to swallow you up when he compliments your egg-cellent outfit.

“Swallow?” he slyly says. “Like the bird?”

Instead of committing a crime, you kiss him on the cheek, effectively silencing him. You’ve been waiting to do both those things for some time now, and look at you now, killing two birds with one stone.

Jisung turns a delightful shade of pink and mutters something about needing to get to the restaurant before it gets too crowded. All of his bluster from just five seconds ago is gone. You merrily follow him down the pavement, feeling a little bit like the cat who swallowed the canary.

Yes, you did search up bird expressions beforehand. Jisung will be Jisung, and like you told him before, toucan play at this game. You will not spend your first date with him being humiliated by his large repertoire of puns. Besides, if he retaliates like you expect him to, you will have the perfect excuse to kiss him again.

See? No fowl play at all.

Then he takes your hand into his, his warmth enveloping yours, and everything suddenly isn’t fair again.

And based on his all-too-pleased grin, Jisung knows this as well.

~ ad.gray

[comagwyn]

In light of the Revue Starlight international fandom drama

Before I would like to start, I would like to say that I have been on both sides of this: as a creator and as an audience. And I know that this doesn't seem much but this has just been causing me so much distress and I just really want to get this off my chest.

Disclaimer: I am a tad bit emotional because my feelings have been on a high all week, so, forgive me if I seem a bit... irrational and incomprehensible. Also, this is a really, really long post.

If you don't know what's going on in the international fandom (more specifically in the Twitter sphere,) of the anime series, "Shoujo Kageki Revue Starlight," allow me to give you a very brief rundown.

Revue Starlight has been known to have live musicals and performances, as well as two movies, an anime series, and as well as several mangas. Recently, last July, its movie and its third live, "Growth" had been available for purchase and for online viewing. Now, here's the issue: a popular Twitter account named, "Revue Starlight International" has been known to translate and offer official announcements to fans--despite it being run independently. This account ceased its operation in connection to the rampant leaking and posting of spoilers, screenshots, and videos, etc. of the movie and live performance. Though it's largely unconfirmed what the true reason is, many speculated that it has had something to do with some viewing parties on Discord, which many fans condemn and label as piracy. Some even claiming that they basically ripped off those who worked hard on the series, itself.

Now, here is where I insert my own opinion as a viewer, and as a fan. In all certainty, I can tell you that I do not condone crimes in any way, shape, or form--both for legal purposes and morality's sake. But as someone who has largely little to no means of officially supporting a series that I like, more often than not, I don't really have a choice. Now, usually, I would chalk this up to ignorance or privilege but... I really want to have a discussion with the people who had been largely shitting on those who leaked content, joined viewing parties, etc.. I can definitely tell you that those people want to support the series as much as you do, but you have to understand sometimes, they don't even have a choice (I'm talking about those who viewed it in less than... let's say official ways). Those people could be living in [developing] countries where they didn't have the access to Bushiroad's official sales, or they didn't have enough money to buy tickets because they had more important shit to spend it on.

Basically, my point is, stop blaming it on the fans. This is a really complex issue that shouldn't end up on pointing fingers on anybody.

Some fans have had to leave because others are making them feel less than because they simply don't have the means of accessing to the content the same way others could. And I understand that that is a legitimate concern, but to throw away that fact and to berate others for choosing the only choice they had is just plain ignorant and hypocritical. It's important to realize that not everybody is living in a desirable living situation, not everybody has the means and access to the content, not everybody can support the series in the way they want to.

In many ways, this issue shares many similarities with Broadway's "bootleg" problem--but I don't think I'm knowledgeable enough to draw more conclusions, so I'll leave that comparison as it is.

Truthfully, I am very conflicted as to how I feel about this issue. I admit, I have had my fair share of internet problems, but this is the only one that has really affected me this much (to the point of me seriously considering leaving the fandom entirely out of shame and guilt.) On one hand, it is considered piracy--point blank, and simple. But on the other hand, some people don't even have the means of supporting the series they love so much; even if they badly want to.

There is also another issue/reason of hobbies being "expensive" as a way to shame on other fans, but I can't into that issue without personal feelings getting involved, so, I'll place it to the side for the meantime.

All in all, I really don't know how to feel. It really sucks that this kinda thing has to happen on Claudine's birthday--so, I can't even enjoy that if I wanted to because of the anxiety swimming in my stomach.

Say what you will about the people who joined in viewing parties (the leakers are a whole different can of worms that I don't really wanna open)--I still think this matter could've been brought to light without needlessly shaming people who legitimately had no access to the content. It's very harmful to the fans who meant no ill will, and only did the best that they can. Although I'm not saying that we should certainly do that, it's important to remember that these are people too, with problems, and with personal experiences who just use the series as a way to escape their reality.

Note: We can continue discussing about this in the replies, but please remain respectful. I have done my very best for this post to be as calm and as even as I could, despite my worsening mental and emotional state, and I would like to continue calmly discussing this rather than screaming to a bunch of strangers on the internet. Also, I am really sorry if some personal views have made it on this post; the issue of accessibility and financial means have personal weight for me (as a college student living in the Philippines), so, I really apologize if I seemed to be leaning to certain sides.

[tailorvizsla]

You didn't think I wouldn't ask for some Boba Fett though now did you? (Of course not, he is the new shiny for me iuwhei) ✨ HC Of my Choice... What about having your first kiss with Boba and he doesn't #know it is your first one till part-way through or after? Am I projecting? Yes, yes I am.

Title: HC – Boba Fett and First Kiss Pairing: Gender neutral Reader x Boba Fett Word Count: ~1700 Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Boba Fett is a grumpy bastard, but you hold your own against him. Boba also gets injured, but there aren’t any graphic descriptions of the injuries. Author’s Notes: Okay, my Angle, I’ve been thinking about this one for as long as it’s been sitting in my inbox. I’m not familiar with Boba Fett’s character, so I wanted to make sure this was good for you. So, without further ado, here we go with the Big Green Grumpy Jerk who has somehow inexplicably charmed his way into my heart with a few gruff comments.

Tagging @princessbatears because chaos? :>

📚 My Master List 📚

Boba Fett isn’t a man of many words. It’s not that he’s shy or anything – he just doesn’t like talking to people beyond what is necessary. He has worked alone his entire life, so the sound of others’ voices just sort of grates on him. He especially does not like being crowded by people.

So, one day, while doing his thing, he ends up injured. It’s not even due to combat. His jetpack just…sputters out. His beskar’gam turns what should have been a fatal fall into a very painful one. He knows he has broken a lot of bones, but Boba refuses to die like this. He crawls his way back to his bike, calls for medical aid, and prays to the Maker that someone in town will come help him.

You are the only person who does come to help him. Most other people are too afraid of the Imperial remnants to work with a Mandalorian. Others are too afraid of Mandalorians to work with a Mandalorian. You? You are not afraid of much. He is not sure if you are brave or stupid. After splinting the worst of the damage, you get him onto the bike and get him back into town. It is at this point that Boba finds himself leaning toward thinking you are stupidly caring and trusting.

You inject him with bacta – the good kind that makes him giggly, sleepy, and numb – and get to work. When he wakes up, he’s wrapped in an annoying number of casts and splints, but at least he’s still alive. However, you then give him the bad news: the fall has damaged many of the delicate nerves in his back. If he fails to undergo physical therapy, there is a real chance he may never walk again. He’s no medical expert, but when he looks at the scans you took, he knows you aren’t lying.

So, Boba resigns himself to having to deal with you on a regular basis. The first physical therapy exercises are simple, yet they exhaust him to the point where he just passes out. As the days go by, he starts putting up the walls to keep you out. (Spoiler alert: you manage to find your way through the cracks in the wall, annoying him with barely any effort on your behalf.)

Now, under ideal circumstances, this shitshow would end with Boba Fett getting back on his feet, paying you handsomely for the amount of time you have spent getting him put together, and going back to bounty hunting, never to think of you again. But of course, the universe throws an even bigger wrench into his carefully thought-out plans. Someone finds out that you’re taking care of him and a whole bunch of angry townspeople converge on your little clinic. He grabs you and the two of you run. The last thing you see is your clinic going up in flames. (Boba can’t believe the shortsightedness of these people – they’ve driven off their only competent medical professional. What are they going to do next? Kill their only competent mechanic? Di’kute, every last one of them.)

And so, the two of you go off on a merry adventure, annoying the absolute shit out of each other on a regular basis. Boba especially is concerned at how easily you have managed to find every single weak point in his defenses – physical, mental, and emotional. You are a fair shot with your blaster, so when he got fresh with you that one time, telling you that your ass looked downright edible in the trousers you had borrowed from him, you drew your blaster and fired a shot off at his feet. He laughed so hard his bucket nearly fell off. (You are not sure if you are disturbed that he finds being shot at amusing. He does scold you a bit, but you do notice that he does not talk about your ass anymore.)

With your knife? You’re lethal, and he learns that the hard way when he fails to announce his presence behind you. One moment Boba is reaching to touch your shoulder and the next moment, he’s got your elbow in his face and your penknife embedded in his flak vest. Fortunately, the blade’s too short to cause serious damage, but he does not let you forget that you kriffing stabbed him when he was only trying to ask you what you wanted for dinner.

Even though Boba would rather cover himself in tiingilar sauce and crawl back into the sarlacc pit headfirst than ever admit it, the two of you make a damn good team. He goes off to hunt bounties, you stay in town to provide your medical services for a fair fee. Sometimes, when your services are not needed, you’ll hang back at the ship and do some basic accounting to keep him within his budget.

Boba grumbles when you ask to accompany him on a hunt, but he figures you really do need to learn how to defend yourself if anything should happen to him. When the two of you were surrounded by goons, you naturally fell into place behind him, your back to his, covering his shebs while he provides the heavy firepower. When the numbers are thinned to something more manageable, he sets you loose on them, letting you practice your knife skills. And by the Maker, he is impressed with how much you have improved since the last time you stabbed him.

Between hunts, you get his shebs back into fighting shape. Hell, he thinks he’s even better than he was before. The exercises you insist on forcing on him have made him more flexible than he was before, and his bones no longer creak first thing in the morning. One particularly hot, muggy day, you try to make him drink that vile green vegetable concoction you call a smoothie. Smooth his shebs, there are chunks in that liquefied animal feed. Sometimes he wonders if you’re trying to kill him on purpose.

(You don’t know this, but Boba has already arranged for everything in his possession, ships and banking accounts included, to be transferred to you in the event of his death. Hell, he has even started negotiating with a friendly Tribe to make sure you have a home to go to and your pick of their warriors for marriage, should you be interested. Boba justifies it this way: the last time his jetpack mutinied, he ended up several hundred thousand credits in debt to you by his estimation. By ensuring you have a safe place to go, and a family ready to welcome you, he can offset the immeasurable debt he owes you. It hurts to think of this, but Boba genuinely cannot bear the thought of you being alone in this cruel galaxy, the same way he had been when he was a child. So, if he ever does piss you off to the point where you off him in his sleep, you’ll be fine.)

You keep pushing and pushing, insisting that he needs B-vitamins or some other bantha-shit he’s sure you’ve made up for the sole purpose of annoying him. When you start going on about macronutrients and essential vitamins, Boba loses it. He tosses his cutlery down and goes stomping off toward the cockpit. You follow him, blathering on and on about the last blood panel you had pulled – HDLs, LDLs, and a whole slew of acronyms later, he loses it. Rather than snap at you, he shuts you up the only way his poor sleep-deprived brain can come up with.

Boba pushes you up against the wall, gently to avoid hurting you. You don’t seem at all phased. In fact, you start waving the paper at him as you try to draw his attention to his sodium levels. Boba leans in and presses his lips to yours. You finally stop talking, your entire body going stiff in response. He takes a moment to nibble along your lower lip before parting your lips with his, tongue probing a bit deeper in, and you still aren’t responding. Boba draws back and stares down at you. You’re wide-eyed and clearly in shock.

He leans in again. This time you respond clumsily, your hands clutching at that stupid piece of paper. He gently wrestles it out of your grasp and crumples it up. Then he tosses it over his shoulder, not caring where it lands. He cups the back of your head and deepens the kiss. Still, you’re not responding the way he wants, so he draws back.

“What, never been kissed before?” he asks.

Before he can say anything else, he realizes that that was your first kiss. While Boba has never wanted to be anyone’s First Anything, he realizes that he wants to make an exception for you. There’s no one in this entire galaxy who can annoy the shit out of him in one breath and then worry about his health in the next. You are his little baar’ur. After you have wormed your way under his plating and so selfishly made yourself a fixture in his life without his permission? Oh, no, no, you are not going anywhere.

He cuts off your stammering with another kiss. He takes this one slow, moving your hands to where he wants you to touch him – one at his nape, the other at the small of his back, right over that spot that makes his knees weak.

This time, you respond. Slowly, hesitantly, but as you grow more confident, your hands begin to stray. You worm your fingers up the back of his shirt and dig your nails into the sensitive skin there, making him gasp in pleasure. Then you dig your fingers into his long hair and tug lightly, earning a low growl from him. You freeze and stare up at him with wide eyes until he leans back in.

Fortunately, your big smart science brain learns his likes and dislikes very quickly. When he finally pulls away, he finds that he really likes what he sees – your shirt’s rumpled, your hair is sticking up, and your lips are red and swollen from his kisses. Then and there, he makes a vow to make sure you always look like a mess.

(Spoiler alert: quite a few more of your firsts happen right here in the cockpit.)

[scaryscarecrows]

Breathe In, Breathe Out (Let the Human In)

AN: Happy deathday, Jason! Title from Of Monsters and Men's 'Human'. Arkham Asylum alternate ending thingy.

TW for attempted suicide.

* * *

It’s the Joker’s fault.

Well, okay, fine, it’s ninety percent the Joker’s fault and ten percent Cobblepot being a nosey Nellie, but because she hates him and he isn’t her boss, Dove is going to lay all the blame on the clown.

And he’s the one who made this spectacle, so there.

Whoever’s fault it is, Cobblepot demanded they trek to Arkham. He says that it’s because he’s a donor and has rights to see what’s going on. Dove knows for a fact he hasn’t donated a damn cent since his stint as the mayor way back when, but he’s playing at being Legal for now and, well, she’s curious too. Batman is there. Arkham’s got a pretty full house tonight. And the news is saying something about monsters.

The news is not wrong. Batman is here, on the roof, with--

Oh my God.

That’s. That’s Joker, but...but he’s done something to himself. Something awful. He’s monstrous, with...with spines (no, not spines, his spine, his bones) jutting up out of his torn back, and he’s. He’s huge, big enough to pick up Batman. And Dove’s been up close to Batman before, been picked up by the guy, even. He’s not small.

“What’s going on?” Cobblepot demands. He’s not alone. She recognizes some of the men gathered here, at the police barricade. Most of them are as corrupt as they come. “Jim! Jim, come here, I demand--”

“You don’t get to demand anything--”

Above them, Joker laughs. Dove has faith that Batman will stop him. He always does.

(He has to.)

She ducks, though, when the clown turns to peer down at them, and turns her head away. And that’s the only reason she sees the thin, trembling shadow stumbling out from one of the buildings.

Between the floodlights and the chopper, the lawn’s lit right up. The orange jumpsuit sticks out like a sore thumb and her first thought is ZSASZ.

“Harvey!” Harvey Bullock turns, toothpick already half-shredded in his teeth. “There’s a--”

“Shit--”

The shadow goes down and no, that’s not Zsasz. There’s hair. Harvey approaches so Jim can deal with this shitshow, turns the man(?) onto his back. There’s silence, followed by a horrified, “What the fuck?”

“What now?”

“What is going on--”

“Harvey?”

An explosion draws Jim back to his radio, shouting at the chopper to GET BACK GET OUT OF THERE RIGHT NOW. Dove risks inching towards Harvey and the orange shadow.

“Harvey?”

“Jesus Christ…” He’s all but sitting on his hands. “Jesus Christ, kid, what happened to you?”

Kid? That’s a kid?

“Who is that?”

He looks up, hat falling off.

“I think it’s Robin.”

No, Robin would be...up…

Oh.

Oh, my God.

She does go closer at that, and it is Robin. Not the current one, the new one, but the one before. The one Joker...Joker’d got hold of him...God, over a year ago, now, sent a tape out a few months back.

He’d been dead. Finally, Dove remembers thinking guiltily, out of his misery.

But apparently not. He’s older than she remembers (of course he is), but...but there’s a brand on his face, a goddamn ‘J’ burned into his skin like he’s a piece of meat rather than a boy, and he’d had that…

“Robin?” she whispers. “Can you hear me, sweetheart?”

He’s breathing, harsh, ragged gasps that stutter and catch (broken ribs or scared or...?), and he flinches when Joker starts laughing again.

“What did that bastard do to you, kid?” Harvey breathes, finally inching out a hand to brush against the orange jumpsuit. The thing’s hanging off the kid’s frame and it’s stained and torn. “Jesus…”

Robin’s eyes flicker open, and a second later he jolts upright for all of four seconds before collapsing back to the grass.

“No no no--”

“Robin. Robin! Look at me, sweetheart, c’mon, you’re okay, you’re okay, just--”

He freezes, eyes going from the medical building to Harvey to her. Then he swallows, hard, and whispers, “This is real?”

Harvey shucks off his coat and lays it over him as gently as possible.

“Here you go, kid. Just. Just stay real still, huh? Everything’s fine. You’re fine.”

“You promise--you promise you’re not--”

“Shh.” Dove reaches over, intending to just...ruffle his hair, or something, and he flinches back, eyes squeezed shut like he thinks she’s going to hurt him.

“No no please m’sorry m’sorry--”

“Don’t be sorry, honey.” Jesus… “There’s nothing to be sorry for. You’re okay, you’re gonna be okay, it’s over. We’re not gonna hurt ya, honey, I promise.”

He just lies there, shuddering under Harvey’s coat, and finally opens his eyes to look up at the sky.

“S’over?” he breathes. “I...you promise…” He cuts himself off with a choked sob and spits out, “I can’t go back.”

Jim’s suddenly there, confused and demanding to know, “What’s going on? Who the hell--”

Robin jerks at the suddenness of it all and the next thing Dove knows, he’s jolted up and all but crawled into her lap.

“What the hell--”

“Please--”

“Dammit, Jim, now look what you did--”

“Sh-sh-sh, kiddo, s’just Jim. S’just Jim.” Robin the Second is not pocket-sized. Once upon a time, almost. Enough. But pocket-sized or not, he’s emaciated and feverish and terrified. “S’just Jim.”

“It’s Robin,” Harvey’s explaining, voice cracking and shocked. “Jesus, Jim, it’s fuckin’ Robin, Joker didn’t--he’s still alive--”

Robin cringes at another explosion, scrunching down and burying his head against her neck with a whimper. Dove risks touching the back of his head, and when he doesn’t panic, runs her fingers through his hair. It’s matted and stiff and there’s a lump at the base of his skull.

“Shh, shh,” she murmurs. “It’s okay, you’re okay...we gotcha, we gotcha…”

“Mm--”

“Shh, Robin--”

“Jason,” he whispers, so quiet that she nearly misses it. “S’Jason--h-he would’a come for Robin an’ he left me with him--”

That is a can of worms she’s not getting into.

“Okay. Okay, Jason.”

He’s quiet after that, breathing slow and careful and clearly trying to calm himself down. And he’s almost there, or at least he’s not crying anymore, when Batman is suddenly there.

“Jim--”

Jason flinches and tries to curl into a ball, whispering, “Nonono I can’t do this again I can’t do this again…”

Batman stills and sinks into a crouch. Jason’s trembling in Dove’s arms and when Batman half-reaches towards him he all but knocks her over trying to get away.

“Shh, baby, shh, s’just Batman--”

“Get away!” He pulls free and crab-crawls backwards before collapsing on the grass. “Get away from me--please--”

She’s seen Batman be still before, but not like this. He’s, well, he’s shocked. Jason’s shuddering with dry sobs, and when Batman does finally move again, he squirms back behind Dove.

“Sweetheart, no one’s gonna hurt you--”

“You left me!” He jabs an accusing finger at the Bat. “You left me with him, you replaced me, you left me to die!” He struggles to his knees, wheezing. “Joke’s on you, Batman, I didn’t! So tell them! Tell them what happened, just...just…” He wobbles and winds up curled on his side, shaking. “Where the hell were you?”

Batman just looks at him like he can’t believe he’s here and breathes, “I thought you were dead.”

To be fair, that was...everyone did. Joker had sent that tape around, laughing all the while, and…

“Not the whole time,” Jason spits. “You replaced me in what, a week? If? Come on, Batman, quit hiding behind your pathetic excuses! World’s greatest detective, my ass, if you were, you would. Have. Looked.”

“Robin--”

“I’m not Robin anymore! Robin’s dead!” He pauses, and a sick smile creeps over his face. “Or. I guess not, huh? You got a nice, shiny new one! Where’d you find this one, the Wal-Mart parking lot? Amazon dot fucking com? Inquiring minds wanna know!”

Batman’s still and silent. Twenty feet away, the Joker’s being loaded onto a gurney. He’s normal-sized again, looks like shit (good), and giggling; until he thrashes his head.

And sees what’s going on.

Joker doesn’t laugh all the time. That’s a common misconception. But he laughs enough that when he stops, when that smile drops, that most people would rather be locked in a room with Scarecrow than be anywhere near him.

And he’s not laughing now.

“How did you…”

Jason freezes, smile vanishing. He manages, somehow, to go even paler before curling into a small ball, arms over his head.

“Get that animal out of here,” Batman snarls, and Dove’s never heard him sound like that. She’s not scared of the Bat...but tonight, she could be.

“How did you get out, you sorry little brat?!” The clown jerks against the restraints and they rattle. They’re not gonna give, surely they’re not gonna give, he’s small again--

Batman’s suddenly right up against him, hand at his throat.

“That’s enough.”

Joker looks from Jason to Batman and back again before plastering that godawful grin back on his face.

“You don’t think he wants you back, do you?” His voice is strangled. “Not after everything you’ve done--oog!”

Mercifully-finally-Batman slams his head back hard enough to either knock him out or shut him up. Dove doesn’t care which. He steps back, turns around, and finds Harvey Bullock in his space.

Harvey...Harvey talks a big game. But he’s a big old softie, really, and he had a fondness for Robin the Second*. And a long-standing distrust of Batman. With everything that happened, that distrust had only grown.

“I think you owe the kid some answers,” he says, voice trembling with barely-suppressed rage. “Where were you, exactly? How did you miss this?”

“Get out of my way, Bullock.”

“How long was he missing before you mentioned it? Or kidnapped the current one, huh? If you’d kept that pointy nose of yours out of our cases for once--”

“Bullock--”

“--you might’ve found him!”

Batman is, surprise, surprise, silent. Dove knows this kind of silence; men get like this before they. Before they hurt people.

“Bullock,” he says at last, voice very, very, low, “step aside before I force you aside.”

He’s bloody, holding one arm funny, and breathing far too evenly. Even Jim’s wary now, one hand inching towards his gun. Harvey huffs.

“Screw you,” he says, but he’s not dumb enough to fight Batman, and he steps aside. Batman’s still pissed, still ready for what Dove knows will be a one-sided fight, but he manages a stiff nod before turning that laser-focus back to Jason.

Jason’s still huddled in a ball. The fight’s gone out of him, the insane smile and that...that shine in his eyes. He’s not looking at Batman though, or at Joker. He’s just curled over his knees, arms wound around his ribs and head ducked down. Defensive, ready for a beating.

“Hey-hey, baby,” she murmurs, “no one’s gonna hurt you. Come on now, you’re okay.”

Jason uncurls a little, eyes wide, and before anyone can react he’s lunged at Jim and gotten the pistol out of his holster and aimed it at Batman.

“M’not doing this again,” he says, carefully flat. “M’not falling for it.”

“Robin--”

“Kid--”

“M’not falling for this again!” His eyes are wide and tears are running down his cheeks, but his hands are steady. Too steady. “I remember! I learned my lesson! M’not gonna let you get close enough to beat the crap outta me again!”

“Robin,” Batman breathes, and he’s not scary anymore. He’s just a man. “Robin, I never--”

“Stay back!”

Everybody knows Batman can disarm people in the blink of an eye. Dove’s not so sure he can get that gun from Jason before he pulls the trigger.

Jesus Christ, what did Joker do to him…

“All right,” Batman says softly. “All right. I’ll stay right here, and you can put the gun down--”

“No!” The word echoes off the buildings, a frantic, NONONONONONONONONO! “You think I’m stupid?” He laughs. It’s a flat, angry laugh that reminds Dove uncomfortably of the Joker. “You always did, huh?”

“I never--”

“Shut up!” Now he’s starting to shake a little and she sees Harvey shift, just a bit. Jason doesn’t appear to notice. “Just shut up, stop talking to me!”

“Hey. Kid.” What the fuck, Harvey? “C’mon, look at me.” Harvey steps closer. “C’mon. He’s not gonna get ya, just look at me.”

Dove doesn’t think he will, but she’s proven wrong. He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t lower the gun, but he looks at Harvey.

“Good. Good, kid. Now just calm down, okay? No one’s gonna hurt ya, this isn’t…” He takes another step. “This isn’t like that.”

“No, no…”

“Hey. You’re not gonna break my heart an’ tell me I laid a finger on ya, are ya?” Harvey manages, God knows how, to give Jason a real smile. “And you know Dove’s not gonna hurt ya, right? You’re out, kid. You’re okay. So Bats is a bit of a dope--” Batman radiates mild offense. “--but he’s been lookin’ all over the place for you. So come on. Put the gun down.”

People underestimate Harvey sometimes. He’s a disaster, smokes too much and doesn’t clean and yeah, his landlord did try to murder him that one time and Dove could totally see where he was coming from, but...he’s a good guy. Mostly. He’s the kinda cop that she would’ve talked to as a little girl, y’know? He does his best for this hellhole of a city.

Jason’s arms shake and the guns do start lowering. Dove’s just thinking maybe he’ll be okay when he looks back at Batman and whispers, “I can’t.”

“Can’t what, Robin?” Batman’s voice is very, very soft. “Talk to me, son.”

Jason hiccups and spits out, “I killed people! Beat ‘em to death because they looked like you, they looked like you, they were gonna kill me--”

Jesus. Jesus Christ--

Jason’s still blubbering, voice thick and angry and horrified.

“--you’re not gonna want me anymore and I can’t go back to him I can’t I can’t--”

“You’re not going back to him,” Batman insists. “You’re never going back to him, we’re going--”

“No.” Jason swallows and when he speaks again, his voice is steady enough. “No. S’okay, B. There’s no fixin’ me, I know. S’okay.”

He raises the gun again, presses it to his head.

“M’sorry.”

Dove doesn’t see Batman move. One minute he’s over there, and the next minute, Jason’s disappeared under a shadow and the gun’s out of his hand. Jim grabs it and backs away.

Batman stands up, keeping Jason’s arms behind his back. Jason’s slumped forward, breathing hard.

“Listen to me,” he says, the softness of his tone a stark contrast to the firm restraint, “there is nothing you could do that would make me leave you with that monster. I promise.”

“But I--”

“Agent A’s missed you,” he continues. “And Nightwing, and. And Batgirl. I’m sorry, Robin, for failing you. But I never left you, and I certainly never replaced you. We can fix this, at home.” He sighs. “Come home, son.”

Jason bursts into tears, legs buckling under him, and Batman turns him around to hug him.

“Dad--”

“I’ve got you,” Batman murmurs. “I’ve got you. We’re going home right now.”

Dove wonders how-they all saw the destroyed car, Cobblepot had laughed about it-when there’s a noise that can only be described as Hell dropping out of the sky and a…

Oh. Right. Batman not only has a car, he also has a goddamn plane. Because that’s just something that he needs.

The plane lands on the lawn. Batman picks Jason up-looks a little awkward, with the growth spurt the kid’s managed-and turns around.

Nobody tries to stop him. Nobody even says anything until the plane’s in the air, and then Harvey sighs, flicks his toothpick away, and turns to Dove.

“Fuck it,” he says roughly. “You got a cigarette?”

She should say no. He’s been tryin’ to quit, doin’ real good, but…

She needs a smoke too, after that.

“Here.”

THE END

*Canon! (It’s mutual. It’s precious.

[niles-rainbow-room]

Freemod Context! (Long!!)

This is Gordon Freemod! He’s my own little AU Gordon, and I love him!

I made him based around the way I play Garry’s Mod

Cause, in Gmod, my player model is Gordon, and I literally cannot change it because whenever I go to change my model he just

He looks at me. He judges me. He’s just refusing to let me change it.

Here’s just. A bunch of things about Freemod that aren’t related.

Btw, this whole thing is me going-

*projects rapidly*

These were all taken from various moments of me info dumping to my discord friends about him, so, that’s why there’s so many that are barely related.

-

So

To get some characterization down, Freemod can go from Excited Sweet Voice at Everything to This Man is in God Mode and He is Staring You Down as You Attack Him

They’re also

very scared of Gman

It’s not even funny

-

ANYWAYS something else about Freemod, he likes starting all out fights between people, but he’s very polite too so like

Someone says hi to him and he gives this big ol smile, next thing you know, he’s spawning headcrabs that could wipe out an army

-

He also has no idea what to do with bodies like sometimes he just Sweet Voice cocoons them, and other times he just beats them rapidly if it was a combine or something

-

Another thing! He doesn’t like making eye contact 100% of the time! If he gets too excited as well, he’ll despawn whatever was making him excited until he calms down.

-

He’s also really fast when it comes to no-clipping.

He’ll shoot up into the air and fling himself from place to place, just absolutely soaring and loving that feeling of flying through the air

-

He definitely makes Catboy Calhoun jokes but like

He’s also really nervous around Calhoun sometimes like he’s constantly checking in on them after making them fight a ton of headcrabs.

-

He doesn’t really like using the majority of the guns. He just typically uses the quieter/less frantic weapons like the magnum or the crossbow.

-

He’s like

Magnetically drawn to mirrors. He likes watching himself do the Sweet Voice and will do it for hours when he’s in the right mood if someone doesn’t stop him

-

He’s very giggly and smiley when it comes to hearing other characters talk. But he also can be very mean and cutting to the people he doesn’t like. Especially combine.

-

Freemod really likes Houndeyes.

*Really* likes them.

He spawned in a group of 8 and just watched them for a while, and then he spawns a MP Combine. It proceeds to stun stick every one of them. And they all die in one hit. They don’t even fight back.

What Freemod does next is basically the equivalent of “die a very painful death” and just beats the shit out of them while alive and dead.

They have to erase everything because they can’t stand the sight of the bodies of Houndeyes.

-

Hi! Sorry to take you out of the immersion of reading my brain goo, or the annoyed scrolling of “Oh my god will she just shut up already” but!

Another thing I decided to do with him, I gave him a little plot. A hint of his own character rather than just being me but an AU Gordon.

So here that is!

-

I feel like the only true way to contain Freemod and keep him from destroying the world is by keeping him in gm_construct

He likes it there sure, but like

If someone let him into Black Mesa let’s just say that the Resonance Cascade would’ve been way sooner and way more intense.

All he really does is fly around in there. Just. That’s it.

It’s his own personal Bug Bucket.

I don’t even think he realizes he’s trapped to be fair?

-

Another thing with Freemod, I’m not exactly sure how he’d react to... say, the HLVRAI characters showing up in gm_construct one day, idk Benrey takes the gang on a trip to there out of nowhere and they find Freemod just vibing by himself, flying through the air on a capture point from TF2. I don’t know if he’d:

A: Summon a bunch of things to attack the HLVRAI crew for the fun of it

B: Immediately try to befriend all of them desperately

C: Possess a creature and disregard them

D: All of the above

Cause with all this “He’s trapped/alone” sorta thing, I don’t know if I’m making him into a villain or am I just making him very touch starved and sad?

Cause like, earlier I did say that if he was let out of gm_construct, the resonance cascade would’ve been sooner and more intense

Basically what I was thinking is that he doesn’t really limit how crazy his thoughts experiments can be that often, so like, he spawns a bunch of things all at once to see what would happen.

But he’s not like that all the time, like I said, he’s also very polite, he’s just got a thin coating of God Mode on and he’s very lonely.

-

I was trying to figure out the thing with Freemod’s voice actually. I’m trying to think what they’d be like on the Gordon Scale.™️

I’d say he’s able to speak, but he doesn’t do it often. Because typically he’s only around NPCs and they can’t respond to him the way he wants, so why actually talk to them?

But he definitely talks to enemies as sort of a “I am the last thing you’ll ever hear” kind of thing.

But if he were to meet a different Gordon or someone with sentience he can talk to, he’d speak. Totally.

He talks to some of the alien/animal NPCs, cause like!!! Come on!!! That Houndeye over there needs to know that he’s a good boy!!!

-

So, maybe when Freemod is upset or something, he spawns the biggest thing he can possibly think of and posses it, and goes on an absolute rampage until he’s better

So I can just imagine.

Freemod, not feeling great and tense:

Feetman: Mod, hey. Don’t do it...

Freemod: *spawns and possesses a Gene Worm, and roars*

Feetman: FREEMOD NO GET OUT OF THE GIANT MONSTER-

Or like. He just possesses something and just. Flies away.

He just has moments where he’s too out of his head and he needs to just escape.

Something he’s been doing recently is possessing a Stukabat and flying up on top of a roof of a really high building and just. Viewing everything.

This man is SAD please hug him :((

-

Ooh, another thing,

He doesn’t like that dark room at all. In gm_construct? He will not go in there for more than a minute. That place scares him so much. Not even the fact that it’s dark, he just hates that he can’t see anything and while he knows he’s alone in the world he’s in, and he controls what can exist there or not, but, he just refuses to go there, even with a flashlight.

-

Aaaaaand that’s all the content I’ve made for them so far! Now that y’all know the context for him, I’ll post the comic of him meeting the HLVRAI characters, as well as some other drawings!

[yhwhrulz]

Morning and Evening with A.W. Tozer Devotional for August 13

Tozer in the Morning GIVE GOD THE CONTROL

I know that I am being repetitious - but this needs to be said again and again: our Lord will not save those whom He cannot command! The lifetime God has given us down here is a lifetime of decisions. Each person makes his own decisions as to the eternal world he is going to inhabit. We must decide to take Jesus for what He is - the anointed Savior and Lord who is King of kings and Lord of all lords! He would not be who He is if He saved us and called us without the understanding that He can also guide us and control our lives. The root of sin is rebellion against God, and hell is the Alcatraz for the unconstituted rebels who refuse to surrender to the will of God. There are many arguments about the reality of hell. A man might endure fire and brimstone and worm - but the essence of hell and judgment for a moral creature is to know and be conscious that he is where he is because he is a rebel! Hell will be the eternal domain of all the disobedient rebels who have said, & quot;I owe God nothing!"

Tozer in the Evening Man - The Dwelling Place of God - The Once-born and the Twice-born

CLASSIFICATION IS ONE OF THE MOST DIFFICULT of all tasks. Even in the realm of religion there are enough lights and shades to make it injudicious to draw too fine a line between men and men. If the religious world were composed of squares of solid black and solid white classification would be easy; but unfortunately it is not.

It is a grave error for us evangelicals to assume that the children of God are all in our communion and that all who are not associated with us are ipso facto enemies of the Lord. The Pharisees made that mistake and crucified Christ as a consequence.

With all this in mind, and leaning over backwards to be fair and charitable, there is yet one distinction which we dare make, which indeed we must make if we are to think the thoughts of God after Him and bring our beliefs into harmony with the Holy Scriptures. That distinction is the one which exists between two classes of human beings, the once-born and the twice-born.

That such a distinction does in fact exist was taught by our Lord with great plainness of speech, in contexts which preclude the possibility that He was merely speaking figuratively. "Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God," He said, and the whole chapter where these words are found confirms that He was speaking precisely, setting forth meanings as blunt and downright as it is possible for language to convey.

"Ye must be born again," said Christ. "That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit." This clear line of demarcation runs through the entire New Testament, quite literally dividing one human being from another and making a distinction as sharp as that which exists between different genera of the animal kingdom.

Just who belongs to one class and who to the other it is not always possible to judge, though the two kinds of life ordinarily separate from each other. Those who are twice-born crystallize around the Person of Christ and cluster together in companies, while the once-born are held together only by the ties of nature, aided by the ties of race or by common political and social interests.

Our Lord warned His disciples that they would be persecuted. "In the world ye shall have tribulation," He said, and "Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake."

These are only two of many passages of the New Testament warning of persecution or recording the fact of harassment and attack suffered by the followers of the Lord. This same idea runs through the entire Bible from the once-born Cain who slew the twice-born Abel to the Book of the Revelation where the end of human history comes in a burst of blood and fire.

That hostility exists between the once-born and the twice-born is known to every student of the Bible; the reason for it was stated by Christ when He said, "If ye were of the world, the world would love his own: but because ye are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you." The rule was laid down by the apostle Paul when he wrote, "But as then he that was born after the flesh persecuted him that was born after the Spirit, even so it is now."

Difference of moral standards between the onceborn and the twice-born, and their opposite ways of life, may be contributing causes of this hostility; but the real cause lies deeper. There are two spirits abroad in the earth: the spirit that works in the children of disobedience and the Spirit of God. These two can never be reconciled in time or in eternity. The spirit that dwells in the once-born is forever opposed to the Spirit that inhabits the heart of the twice-born. This hostility began somewhere in the remote past before the creation of man and continues to this day. The modern effort to bring peace between these two spirits is not only futile but contrary to the moral laws of the universe.

To teach that the spirit of the once-born is at enmity with the Spirit of the twice-born is to bring down upon one's head every kind of violent abuse. No language is too bitter to hurl against the conceited bigot who would dare to draw such a line of distinction between men. Such malignant ideas are at odds with the brotherhood of man, says the once-born, and are held only by the apostles of disunity and hate. This mighty rage against the twice-born only serves to confirm the truth they teach. But this no one seems to notice.

What we need to restore power to the Christian testimony is not soft talk about brotherhood but an honest recognition that two human races occupy the earth simultaneously: a fallen race that sprang from the loins of Adam and a regenerate race that is born of the Spirit through the redemption which is in Christ Jesus.

To accept this truth requires a tough-mindedness and a spiritual maturity that modern Christians simply do not possess. To face up to it hardly contributes to that "peace of mind" after which our religious weaklings bleat so plaintively.

For myself, I long ago decided that I would rather know the truth than be happy in ignorance. If I cannot have both truth and happiness, give me truth. We'll have a long time to be happy in heaven.

Copyright Statement This material is considered in the public domain.

[prettywarriors]

Mini Mahou March Week 1

Hey everyone and welcome to the first week of Mini Mahou March! You can find the main post for the event here X.

The Prompt for the week of March 1st-March 7th is....

Nocturnal Animal-Themed Cute Witch/Majokko!

The classic genre, often times a girl with a trinket allowing her to change into something or someone else, and sometimes royalty from another kingdom sent to earth to better herself

This is, of course, not a full overview of the genre, which also includes more traditional mischievous witchcraft, the occasional rival, and fighting cat themed villains.

I wanted a more specific prompt than Animals but less specific than Types of Birds or Endangered Animals. I’m posting inspiration below the cut to hopefully stir ideas

I’m only looking for a visual character design, something as simple as a single fullish-body picture, but you are more than welcome to go as wild as you want with trinkets, backstory, information, alt outfits, all that good stuff. Also I say girl but girl boy nb other as long as it’s a magical humanoid gender be damned, thumbs up. (Also nothing 18+ please. Your characters can be, just not your art for this)

Make your post and tag me before end of day March 7th (11.59EST) and I will be re-blogging participants here next Sunday/early Monday, with everything tagged Mini Mahou March.

Toei Majokko outside of Honey didn’t have much in way of A Set Transformation Outfit, and boy did they like red. Usually their defining feature as a magical girl would be their trinket, often a compact or baton, or a piece of jewelry 

Cute Witches later down the line went heavier on the Witch idea, so big pointy hats, capes, brooms, wands

I can’t Not use clip art for this, but nocturnal animals include birds, bugs, mammals, and reptiles. Owls, Kiwis, Nightjars. Moths, fireflies, cockroaches, tarantulas, some jacked up worms. Some big cats, a lot of marsupials, crash bandicoot, a lot of types of mice and rats. A cool gecko

Do you want a fox-witch who hides her ears and tail with her hat and skirt? A princess from a magical bat kingdom who can transform into another person when hitting them with her magic sonar? A girl who can fly with eyes too big who always wants to know who she’s helping as she quietly travels the country? A person with sharp teeth who laughs too loudly with a pendant that allows them to spread laughter to others (and to escape the trouble they keep getting in)? A koala in a cape with a eucalyptus wand?

I’m going to be pretty lenient with this whole thing, and I know you can create something wonderful, so I hope you have fun with this!

(If you can draw furries, I respect and fear you, and encourage your skills for this prompt. ) (Also I know the majokko/henshin heroine divide puts Magical Idols under the majokko domain but do keep it to cute witch for this prompt since we’ll get to the magical idol subgenre in another prompt :) )

[monstersdownthepath]

Ioslon, Beloved by Worms

Chaotic Neutral Archfey of Spirals, Worms, and Obsession

Domains: Artifice, Chaos, Charm, Madness Subdomains: Toil, Protean, Captivation, Insanity Favored Weapon: Whip Symbol: A worm curled into a loose spiral Sacred Animal: Worms Sacred Color: Blue, purple

The temptation of the Demon Lords is not merely for mortals. The eternal paths that the Ravager Worm Yhidothrus carves through layer after layer of reality have attracted the attention of countless mortals and immortals alike who seek out the secrets that the great Demon Lord holds. Not a single one of them returns whole, if at all, and this does not change for creatures of great influence like Ioslon.

Once a revered craftsman among the Fey, Ioslon became curious of what hid within the boundless depths of the Spiral Path--Yhidothrus’ realm--and that curiosity quickly, pardon the pun, spiraled into obsession. Building himself a vessel he believed could survive the ravages of Abyss and Worm alike, Ioslon and a crew of his sycophants and faithful descended into the Path and, within a mere month, vanished beyond means of communication both magical and mundane for several centuries. Like many who’ve performed the very same foolish act, Ioslon was swiftly delegated to a mere footnote in the dusty tomes regarding the Ravager Worm, standing out only for his notable status as an Archfey.

That very same status is perhaps what ended up saving him from destruction, not that he ever said. His return was not a triumphant affair with ribbons fluttering through the air, no. Only a handful even knew he had returned at all until rumors of his workshop reopening began to circulate, though none were allowed inside. It was only when Ng the Hooded himself stepped up to the door and requested entry to the craftsman’s workshop that it was revealed what had happened to Ioslon. A writhing body of composite millions, a strange obsession, fiendish magic used to twist the world into unearthly shapes. Bringing the Abyss into the First World was usually a punishable offense, but Ioslon had plans for these exotic materials that the Hooded demigod found interesting and an assurance that stayed the Eldest’s hand:

“I have learned what I needed to from Yhidothrus.”

Ng was the first to receive a gift from the Beloved By Worms. It’s not known what Ioslon said and gifted to each of the Eldest and Archfey who visited in turn, but it has similarly quelled their anger for the time being, allowing the writhing Archfey to work in relative peace towards his... “goals.”

In truth, Ioslon possesses few long-term or even short-term goals. His mind is too far gone for such leaps and bounds, and is not even fully his anymore. His form--now composed of innumerable worms--houses not just his consciousness, but the fragmented minds of thousands of individuals consumed by the madness of the Spiral Path, a collective he refers to as the Twine. While the mind of the revered craftsman is at the forefront of this mess, the countless minds and memories sharing space in his head steer him in a circle almost constantly... or, rather, a spiral.

The congealed obsessions of each and every spirit Ioslon has assimilated has formed together to form a single cohesive thought which links all of them: An adoration of the spiral. The “Divine Shape,” as he calls it, is the only thing that grants him focus, and only projects involved with it or incorporating it in some way are projects he can focus long enough to work on to completion. His laboratory is littered with clockworks in varying states of construction, each incorporating numerous spiral-patterned gears and unnecessary numbers of springs to sate the obsession of his thousand conflicting minds. His laboratory is also strewn about with terrariums containing worms and worm-like creatures from all over the Great Beyond, as he claims to be able to divine all that he needs from watching them burrow, eat, and writhe. Whether or not this is true is not known.

The obsession with the Divine Shape guilds Ioslon’s new faith and philosophy almost entirely, though metaphorical meanings and the symbology of the spiral are left to his minions and sycophants; he’s purely interested in the physical pattern, and waxing poetic about cycles or recursion is something he never truly engages in. Despite this, every now and then, enough of the fragmented remnants will surge to the surface to trigger a sudden obsession with topics such as time, entropy, patterns, madness, runes, or other spiral-adjacent subjects that stretch beyond the physical. These swings of focus are typically when the Twine take over themselves and create their most magnificent of devices, the constructs they craft performing reality-defying feats that are difficult, if not impossible, to replicate even by the greatest of mortal minds. Despite (or perhaps because of) the corruption and fragmenting of his mind, Ioslon possesses the genius necessary to build machines that can do anything, no matter how outlandish or impossible. It’s these miracles of invention that draw people to Ioslon in the hopes of finding their own muse.

-------- Obedience and Boons --------

Ioslon’s faith is more of a gathering of fans and fellow geniuses than an actual religion, with the majority of his flock gathering to witness his works of art or the emergence of the Twine. Collaborating with Ioslon himself is nearly impossible, but many great minds in the field of clockwork and engineering departments have met one another at his inventors fairs and begun to collaborating with each other instead. To truly work alongside Ioslon himself, one must have a similarly single-minded, manic obsession into which they will throw all else. An unenviable position, to be certain, but the Beloved by Worms views such creatures as kindred souls and allows them access to his shop and his resources, so that they may pursue their greatest passions.

The rest of his faithful and Feysworn have their own reasons for working for him. Many pity him, gathering materials from across the cosmos to bring to his lab at his request simply to prevent him from injuring himself getting them. Many desire something of him, hoping that by achieving greatness in his name, they will be granted their greatest wish. Still others work for him for the simple reason of whimsy, wondering what he’ll do next and thus obeying his nigh-nonsensical orders just to see what will happen. Any member of a class which rewards creativity, drive, or single-minded obsession is welcome in the flock of he who is Beloved by Worms.

A great number of Ioslon’s servants are often sent on missions that can range anywhere from pointless to the laughable to the unfeasible, all guided by his obsession. One Feysworn recalls being instructed to carve spirals into every 4th brick on a sidewalk in a specific city, while another group earned the considerably more dangerous mission of wrangling a Purple Worm, only to have it fed to another, larger Purple Worm for unfathomable reasons as he looked on, writing exotic symbols on a clipboard. One particularly dangerous mission took a squadron of his flock deep into the Darklands in search of a colony of Flail Snails he demanded be brought to him, as he tearfully languished over their “inability to experience their own immaculate design” and strove to grant them the gift of sight.

Still, those who serve the Beloved by Worms learn to put up with these strange orders, as each completed mission seems to grant him just a bit more stability, bringing him closer to his next miracle.

Using the Fey Obedience feat, a worshiper of Ioslon gain certain Boons upon reaching a certain amount of Hit Dice. These Boons are granted at 12HD, 16HD, and 20HD, though the Feysworn Prestige Class allows someone to achieve the Boons much, much sooner. The Beloved by Worms is an Archfey, though a powerful one, but his Boons are relatively simple and remain spell-likes that may be cast 1/day.

Obedience: Using a sharp implement, slowly scratch or carve a spiral into the ground as you walk in a tight circle for roughly an hour, moving slowly outwards until the spiral is at least 5 feet wide (or as wide as the area allows). Alternately, tinker with or build a clockwork device. Benefit: Gain a +4 sacred or profane bonus to saves against charms and compulsion effects, as well as to Craft checks.

Boon 1: Puzzle Box

Boon 2: Quest

Boon 3: Summon Elder Worm

[liang-rexy]

My AU "Wings of the Ravens" stuff.

Canon characters are OOC in some ways (compared to canon concepts, you know), and don't say I didn't warn you.

😂

Sam has cool canines. 😂

Tucker smiles, yeah. 😂

And Daniel. (See my current icon? That's basically me now, you know. I am sometimes exhausted and just want to sleep. )

And there's Dark Danny. (This design again because I love seeing sweet dresses. )😂😂😂He's actually quite happy this time. 😂

I changed the patterns of Dark Danny's dress and changed some of the base colours of the whole design. I wanted him to look nicer in this little dress.

I drew him wearing a dress for the third or fourth time (probably more). I have a freaking weird little comic showing Dan in a dark blue dress here. 😂

He looks good in dark colours. Since his skin colour is really light, light colour clothes don't suit him that well (I can still manage to design light colour clothes for him, but he looks better in black or dark blue/red/brown sometimes. ). (He looks cheerful when he's in orange. Just see my previous post. ) Okay the truth is that I have to design the rhythm of value and sometimes I am lazy or tired, so I prefer to draw simple clothes. Honestly I need to design the value thingy better. 😂 (Btw my lineart is getting better and it looks cool. )

I promised to share the haunted dolls with you, and here is the concept art. The haunted doll that I draw a lot has a proper name now.

(This particular one) She's Button Lady, who is a really friendly and sweet neighbor. (Other designs might be used for other haunted dolls or just ordinary dolls. )

I also have some truly fearsome, aggressive and dangerous ghostly characters. The smiling little character is not included. The smiling one is just another lovely neighbor. The characters with six limbs are the truly ominous creatures.

Oh and I am calling them Softies! Hahaha🌚👍👍

These Softies hunt ghosts (I mean some certain "species", such as Ectopuses, Worms, Eels, humanoid ghosts and perhaps more. They are not cannibals btw. ) Then they "suck" the energy out of their prey. Usually, even if a Softie doesn't destroy other ghosts, it can still hurt other ghosts seriously by just passing through the prey, and some ghosts will really just die (ghosts in my AU will die 😂) because of serious injuries. The most horrifying thing is that the prey usually cannot fight back at all (unless with a special weapon or sth), because Softies can't be injured by ordinary ghosts. (They are perhaps like "ghosts" to the ghosts? )

However, Softies are often harmless to terrestrial animals and plants (maybe more?) of Earth.

As for halfas, Softies aren't too interested in them. But these creatures can really hurt halfas if they intend to do so. ( To be honest, I don't want Danny and Vlad to be the "only halfas"in this weird world, so there are more half ghosts, but most of them aren't "half humans". I know this concept is super weird but whatever. )

Alright, so Softies are similar to "soul suckers" ane they are freaking dangerous and scary.

I actually tried to colour a nice Softie with watercolour. I used watercolour to colour a cartoonic character for the first time, and I think it looks fine.

(My drawings aren't scary, and I am aware of this. Just look at the way I draw canon characters, they aren't even creepy. My OCs aren't scary either. And the name "Softie" is a bit rediculous, but it suits them, and I am always serious. My stuff just look like that and it's not like I can make sth kid-unfriendly. I don't want to draw sth that's really terrifying. So let's just pretend that the Softies are creepy. )

Y. Rexy Leung's 52nd original post.

2020. 06. 18.

[occasionalrpmemes]

Will Wood: the Normal Album Sentence Starters

lines taken from the 2020 album.  edit as desired.  tw: violence, disordered eating, gender dysphoria, mental illness, substance abuse, suicidal ideation, death

01.  Suburbia Overture: Greetings from Mary Bell Township! / (Vampire) Culture / Love Me, Normally

“Trick or treat.  Merry Christmas.”

“Howdy neighbor!”

“Thank you Jesus!”

“It don’t look like survival, but buy now or die.”

“You’re not alone.”

“The lights are on, but no one’s home.”

“Takes a village to fake a whole culture.”

“Home is where the heart is- You ain’t homeless, but you’re heartless.”

“It’s the safest on the market.”

“You still gotta watch where you park it.”

“Give me your half-life crisis.”

“I can tell that you know where paradise is.”

“Parasites don’t care what your blood type is.”

“A snowflake only matters in a blizzard.”

“Everyone knows that nobody knows that.”

“Well, word gets around on hit number stations.”

“Smile and wave, boys, kiss the cook, live laugh and love, please pass the pills.”

“It’s only culture.  It’s only culture.  It’s only culture.”

“Didn’t they want your blood?”

“Why apologize when you turn blue and cold?

“Hey, fuck your culture.”

“Do you know the difference between blazing trails and slash-and-burn?”

“Hey, you’re only mortal.”

02.  2econd 2ight 2eer (well, that was fun, goodbye)

“The devil made me do it, but I also kinda wanted to.”

“Forget bored stiff, I got rigor mortis.”

“My third eye’s open and I like what I see.”

“If you knew what I knew, if you saw what I see- ”

“But I got facts and I’m not afraid to use ‘em.”

“I’m getting better one forever at a time.”

“If sick is defined by what’s different, well then pull the plug out and let me die.”

”Who I am, I choose through all the things I do.”

“If it rhymes, it’s true, but I hate poetry.”

“Well that was fun, goodbye.”

03.  Laplace’s Angel (Hurt People?  Hurt People!)

“Have you ever died in a nightmare?  Woke up surprised you hadn’t earned your fate?”

“Have you ever felt like Atlas, threw your back out on the axis, and collapsed and threw the planet away?”

“Nobody dies agnostic.”

“Nobody dies agnostic, but we still dial 9-1-1.”

“Am I really that bad?”

“Whatever you think of me, if you were in my shoes, you’d walk the same damn miles I do.”

“With my head up in the clouds, I can see so much ground.”

“From up here, you look like ants in a row.”

“It doesn’t take a killer to murder.  It only takes the reason to kill.”

“The difference twixt fate and free will is whether you’re singing.”

“You wash your hands of where you’ve been until you flood the second floor.  Neatly fold your skeletons, but still can’t shut the closet door.”

“The only ones in need of love are those who don’t receive enough.”

“You could break an angel’s fall, and ignore the Devil’s call.”

“It’s a small hell after all.”

“Man, no more than animal, is made of moral chemicals.”

“If you were in my shoes, you’d see I wear the same size as you.”

04.  I / Me / Myself

“I’ve been feeling lightheaded since I lost enough weight to fit back in my skin.”

“Am I pretty now?”

“For some reason, I find myself lost in what you think of me.”

“I wish I could be a girl, and that way you’d wish I could be your girlfriend, boyfriend.”

“Am I pretty enough to lie to?”

“Just little old me in a big, big world.”

“I’ve been feeling lighthearted since I gained enough weight back to cover my bones.”

“You’ll be walking out early, but the show must go on.”

“No, I know that I’m wrong.  But I love how you’re on my side when I cross that line.”

“It’s been a point of contention between myself and this body that they stuck me in.”

“The privilege of being born to be a man.”

”I am quantum physics; my witness brings me into existence.”

”Am I pretty enough to love back?”

“Am I pretty enough to fucking die?”

“I wish-”

“Don’t you think that there’s a chance that you could live without it?”

05.  ...well, better than the alternative

“My daughter’s growing up.  She’s gonna be a lot like me, but I don’t wanna be at all like me.”

“I don’t wanna be at all like me.”

“You’re telling me I’m holding up eleven fingers.”

“Stranger things than death can happen.”

“Everybody knows that nobody knows that.”

“Everybody’s in on everybody’s business.”

“This isn’t my first Christmas, I know mistletoe when I see it.”

“Baby, could you play along with me?”

“Baby, would that be alright with you?”

“When we find out what’s wrong with me, could you tell me how I’m right for you?”

“Could you tell me how I’m right for you?”

“Could you tell me if I’m still pretty?”

“If they could see the future back when times were simple...”

“If everyone’s sick, well then, nobody can catch it.”

“Everybody’s all up in my god damn business.”

“This isn’t my first kiss.”

“It’s better to be lost than loved, now, isn’t it?”

“Everybody’s all up in my motherfucking business!”

“This isn’t my first anything.”

“After all of that’s been done to me, could you tell me how, could you tell me how, could you tell me—”

“What’s so wrong about what’s wrong with me?”

“I’m just trying to do what’s right by you!”

06.  Outliars and Hyppocrates: a fun fact about apples

“Did you know that the hole in the apple didn’t come from the outside in?  It was eaten from the core and out to the skin, and that’s why you’ll never find the worm in it.”

“The disease is defined by its treatment.”

“You people make me sick.”

“Who’d want to be human anyway?”

“Why’d you come into this world or come out that way?”

“Isn’t it funny?  Well, not "ha-ha" funny, but y’know, funny.”

“I doubt that you would even if you could change.”

“You think it makes you special, but it makes you strange.”

“The things that make you special are the things that make you strange.”

“I am the shadows cast aside by gallows, and you the red-hot sky.”

“And if you’re believers, then why would you grieve for the dead, instead of a devil that you never prayed for?”

“Too weird to love, too scared to die.  Too alien to take you home.”

“Who’d want to belong to anyone?”

“I mean, what do people even do?”

“If you love me, let me let you go.”

“Five more minutes, please?  You wouldn’t believe the dream I just had.”

07.  Black Box Warrior - OKULTRA

“Bless the torpedoes!”

“For what?  For what??”

“For what it’s worth, if it was going to kill you, boy, it would have by now.”

“There’s no more looking back, it’s looking up or looking down.”

“Wonder if Christ-Consciousness would charge a cancellation fee.”

“Auf wiedersehn!  Au revoir!”

“Hello, welcome.  Why don’t you take a seat?  Get comfortable, relax, take a second if you need to.”

“Now, what’s bothering you?”

“Well, why don’t we start at the beginning?”

“Growing up, how was your relationship with the fundamentals of conscious existence?”

“Did you die before your day?”

“You got a better idea?  It’s about the best we could come up with.”

“What, you think ideas spread because they’re good?  No, they spread because people like them.”

“So here we are once again.  Holding, as it were, a mirror up to your mirror.”

“I guess it’s just something people do!”

“You learn to be an animal instead.”

“I never did think you better than this.”

“It’s you who are the problem.  Not the things you do, but something sick inside.”

“Boy, you really is defective.”

“Offer up your innocence, please ignore the side effects.”

“You’ve lost your mind and almost lost your life before, so you’ll be fine!”

“Why would you want to look back?  I mean, it’s no good looking back. So try to look forward now.”

“For what it’s worth, if they were gonna get you boy, they would have by now.”

08.  Marsha, Thankk You for the Dialectics, but I Need You to Leave.

“They could prescribe you any illness you’d like if you define the terms of your ailments.”

“A crow don’t know the smell of carbon monoxide.”

“How many years have you been on that couch?”

“Your draw a line in the sand where it ends and you begin, but the tide rolls in, so who knows?”

“A little identity never hurt nobody, but lately you’ve been focusing too much on yourself.”

“How many milligrams of you are still left in there?”

“Back in my day, we didn’t need no feel-good pills and no psychiatrists.  We just drank ourselves to death.  And god damn it, we liked it!”

“What’s a symptom, what’s a flaw, can it be both?”

“Well, I suppose that’s an answer.”

“Would you give up your humanity for just a touch of sanity?”

“They’ve discovered a cure for the symptoms of being alive.  It’s a painless procedure with a low rate of failure, but very few patients survive.”

“And a little conformity never hurt nobody, but lately I’ve been worried that you’re losing yourself.”

“What’s my prognosis?”

“Disease is in the eye of the beholder.”

“Tell me ‘so it goes.’”

“Better safe than sorry, and we both know the danger.”

“So doctor, could you run another test?”

“If our harmonies don’t sync, we can change our voices.”

“Don’t heed no evil wills of moral nihilists.”

“Don’t you make me waste my breath.”

“GOD DAMN IT!”

“Does aspirin kill you with the pain?“

“You’re not your thoughts, you’re not your brain, you’re just the character you’ve made.”

“What seem like separate body parts come together to believe they’re you, and not just chemistry.”

“It’s not the way that you were raised, or what the advertisements say.”

“It’s not what you pay for, what you pray for, what you want, or what you say.”

“Something tells me that you need, forgive me now if I misspeak--”

“Something tells me you prefer to be sitting there flipping through those old issues of People.”

“Well, that’s our time.  See you next week.”

09.  Love, Me Normally

“In lipstick on the mirror are the lyrics to my obituary.”

“Crossing my eyes, dot my T’s.”

“I was delivered holding scissors.”

“I live deliberately, I’m a quitter.”

“I never agreed to participate in this game.”

“Won’t follow my dreams, cause they all got me waking up screaming.”

“I’d rather be normal.  Yes, so normal.”

“I suggest that we keep this informal.”

“A normal human being wouldn’t need to pretend to be normal.”

“Well, I guess that’s the least that I owe ya.”

“C’mon, c’mon, and love me normally.”

“If I could live in third person, well, I don’t think life would be much worse than it is.”

“Is it courageous or escapist to leave the quarantine when you’re contagious?”

“It may just be a cold.  And besides, I don’t wanna get old.”

“I drank myself to death to be the afterlife of the party.”

“When the afterparty came, I was rolling in my grave.”

“Now, this is the part of the song where I talk to my audience.”

“There’s something I want from you hepcats tonight.”

“I want you to look to your left.  Look to your right.  Your twelve o’clock, three o’clock, six o’clock, nine o’clock, rock around the clock tonight–”

“I want you to find those points of no return, those singularities, those burning rings of fire in the beautiful pupils and the beautiful eyes of the beautiful boy, girl, neither, both, or in-between that you brought with you tonight.  And I want you to tell ’em how you really feel!”

“Jam that square peg in the round hole in their hearts!”

“You love them exactly the way that everybody else is.”

“I was nothing before, so I couldn’t have asked to be born.  I’ll be nothing again, so what am I between now and then?”

“Is there nothing to fear?  Cause shit’s getting weird.”

“So to God who made this man: you better have one hell of a plan.”

10.  Memento Mori: the most important thing

“If you’re lucky you’ll be surrounded by the ones that you love, when the lights in your eyes fade and life flashes by.

“One day you’re going to die.”

“Heaven, hell, nirvana, nothing, no one knows how it ends.”

“Rest in peace— or pieces.”

“Read your horoscopes, your palms and tarot cards.  But either way your destination ain’t very far.”

“You could drown, or choke, or burn, or be hit by a car.”

“What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, but something will eventually.”

“One day you’ll look back at the life that you lead.  No more future left to fear that you’ll have the past to regret.”

“But your worries will be over if you truly realize— one day you’re going to die!”

“Take it away, hands!”

“In the fabric of time and in the vastness of space, a billion amounts to nothing in infinity’s face.”

“Your life never mattered, so who cares if it's a waste?”

“Well, one day you’ll be not even a faint memory.”

“You’ll never know what it all means.”

“Just keep this in mind: that everything and everyone goes with the passage of time.”

“No need to fear, ’cause when it’s here, you won’t be alive.”

“Try not to think about it!”

“So if you only have one chance, you oughta try your best to live as you like.”