#halway comics

[lighthousepigeons]

Connor Cobalt: [to everyone] If at first you don't succeed, then maybe you should do it the way I told you too in the beginning.

[cluepoke-archive]

It's been so rainy and dismal lately I needed to draw daisy with a good book and some of that head in the clouds nostalgia that comes with autumn storms

+ the sketchy bits under the cut because I enjoyed messing around with the settings too much on the final

[goodpossums]

my finished piece for TACK comics ! very excited to take part in my first zine :'))

[robynnandco]

[strunmah-mah]

The daughter of Circe has been discovered. But with Circe herself trapped in a mirror by Justice League Dark there is no one to defend little Lyta from her father, Ares who wants her power for his own. So the goddess Hippolyta entrusts to girl’s safety to the champion Artemis. Artemis who is still discovering the depths of her new powers. Will she be able to figure them out in time to keep Lyta from becoming a Warbringer?

So anyway. Here’s my pitch for an Artemis solo series. I’ve been trying to read all of her pre-flashpoint stuff and I thinks it’s a shame how Artemis’s role as a mentor has been downplayed in Rebirth. So I’m fixing that. If it happens to revive Lyta Milton’s character as well? I just think she was neat, but not a lot was done with her. Why not revive her?

[inbrightshadows]

*sticks one arm out from under my rock, slips this into the tag, and retreats back under my rock* Inspired by the cass apocalyptic series by somerandomdudelmao It's a very very cool rottmnt fancomic and you should give it a read 👉👈🥺 (Not canon but you might recognize some parts/dialogue from the comic) [warning for implied/referenced past infant death but no actual infant death (the boy is fine dw), infected wounds, amputation, and a dog like creature biting someone]

The first time Casey Jr almost dies he's about three months old, by their best guess, and he's only been Casey Jr for a week.

Cassandra and Raph go out on a supply run, which is normal. They come back with a baby in a box, which is not.

Fortunately or unfortunately, there's no such thing as government or paperwork in the apocalypse. So there's nothing stopping Cassandra from saying “I found him in an alley so he's my son now, his name is Cassandra Jr.” And that's that.

Thankfully, this isn't the resistance's first baby so there's plenty of formula and hand me downs to supply Cassandra in her sudden status as a Mom. And everything else the family quickly supplies.

Donnie is very uninterested in babysitting the oozy crotch goblin but Casey Jr's crib still has the genius built logo and built in laser security system to prove he cares in his own way.

Mikey breaks into his carefully rationed paint supply to paint a small mural above the crib and takes every chance to babysit he can.

And Raph? Well Raph dives headfirst into the roll of co-parent slash halway blockade.

Then there's Leo.

In his own words, he has a whole resistance to babysit. And besides that there’s not much he can really do other than what he’s already doing.

Fight the krang, stop the war, give little Casey Jr a better world to grow up in. And also avoid everyone’s efforts to get him to hold the baby.

He is not cut out for tasks that require a delicate touch but it seems like he’s the only one who understands that. He’s a gigantic mutant ninja turtle who, unlike his brothers, has never had any kind of hobby that requires any kind of delicacy. So he hangs back, he keeps an eye out for things that will be useful to the Caseys while he’s out on the surface, and he waves away attempts to hand Jr to him.

And then Casey Jr gets sick.

It should be fine. Should be normal. Babies are delicate little things, getting sick is a thing they do. Except there’s not much the way of medicine in the apocalypse. And babies are delicate.

It starts as a low grade fever. By the end of the day it’s a raging bonfire. They have a lot of things but medicine is in short supply. Nothing they have is working. It’s just Casey Jr, sobbing his heart out on Raph’s shoulder while Cassandra hovers and Raph tries to soothe all three of them.

There’s nothing Leo can do to help. They don’t have the medicine they need to treat the fever. At least not something safe to use on a baby. Raph is the one who remembers how Dad used to use lukewarm baths to break their fevers when they were little and he was still too scared to try human medicine on them. It helps enough that they can get some formula into the kid. But it’s not fixing things.

Two days pass and the fever refuses to break. The baths are becoming less and less helpful. After the third refused feeding attempt that afternoon Donnie slams down a map of ‘areas most likely to contain useful information or materials for treating a sick baby.’

Leo and Mikey gear up and head out leaving Donnie to monitor things back at base while April takes charge of running everything else so that Raph is free to help Cassandra take care of Jr.

It’s bad luck, really, that a pack of krang dogs find their camp on the first night. It should be fine. They should be able to handle it.

But bad luck is bad luck.

Leo sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He moves to dodge and the ground underneath him decides now is a perfect time to give way.

“LEO!” Mikey yells as Leo tumbles away into the dark.

Leo grunts, biting back a scream as the Krang dog’s teeth sink into his arm. They tumble into the dark together, bouncing down the stacks of rubble. It’s dead by the time he lands but the damage is done.  

The good news is that the fall kept the dog from getting a good grip on him.  

The bad news is that even if the bite won’t infect him with Krang regular infections are different story. Krang zombies have foul mouths.

Mikey can’t find out it managed to bite Leo. If he does he’ll want to go back and get Leo treatment before they look for the medicine.

And right now every second could mean the difference between getting medicine to Casey Jr in time or adding to their graveyard.

So Leo makes sure that by the time Mikey makes it down to him his first aid kit is a good bit lighter and any sign of the bite is hidden beneath his normal arm wraps.

When Mikey finds him Leo smiles and doesn’t hesitate to wrap both arms around his little brother.

“Are you okay- did it bite you?” Mikey asks, darting around him to hunt down every last scrape.

“Nah, just a couple of scratches,” Leo lies. “Let me heal them-” “No, we’ve got a ways to go, I won't risk you wearing yourself out too soon.” “Leo!” “I already used my first aid supplies on them! It’d be a waste if you healed me now!” Mikey glares at him but huffs and nods. “Fine! But if they start to feel bad-” “I’ll tell you, don’t worry,” Leo lies again.

Day two is a bust. There's useful supplies in the area Donnie marked out for them to search, sure, but nothing that will help  Casey Jr. Or the sensation of a burn throbbing its way up Leo's hidden bite wound.

Leo and Mikey mark out where the useful things are and keep going. Someone can go back for them when they're less pressed for time.

That night Leo waits for Mikey to fall asleep before he checks the bite. It's bad.

The moment the bandages come off he's gagging at the putrid stink of infection. It's hard to see it in the dark but then again he's not sure he really wants a better look. It wouldn't change his mind anyway.

He can make out the dark veins of infection spreading. If he wasn't green it'd certainly be a violent red.

He cleans it, spreads a thin layer of disinfectant cream that will do about as much good as throwing a cup of water at a bonfire, and re-bandages it.

His usual arm wraps go up over top of it, hopefully Mikey won't notice he's done them a bit higher than normal.

All the evidence goes into the fire. By the time Mikey's turn to take watch comes all that's left is ash.

On day three Leo wakes up feeling like someone dropped a building on him. He makes the mistake of groaning about it.

“Leo? Are you okay?” Mikey asks. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just, uh, I think I’m inheriting Dad’s back problems! That or the Krang made the ground harder.” Mikey snickers. “I mean, they would, but I’m also pretty sure you just called yourself old.” “I did not!” Leo drags himself upright and makes a show of cracking his back. It obliges with a satisfyingly loud pop that makes Mikey giggle harder. “I think your spine disagrees with you too.” “Shut up!” “Awwww are you feeling cranky, old man?” 

Leo is too exhausted to feel properly offended or even think of forming a comeback but he plays it up for his little brother anyway.

Anything to keep him from worrying. Or forcing them to turn back. It’s fine. This shouldn’t take too much longer anyway.

It’s midday by the time they reach the second site. Just from a glance it’s obvious this is a more promising site. There are actual chunks of buildings scattered around and there’s enough of a shattered sign left lying around to tell them that whatever kind of care this place used to give it was geared specifically towards children.

There’s plenty to find digging through the rubble. Well. Plenty for Mikey to find. Leo is mostly trying not to let on how dizzy he is.

To both of their frustration, they run out of daylight before they find anything. Leo can feel his body screaming at him to lay down and rest. Just a little longer, he tells his body. They’re going to find the medicine. He can feel it. Leo just needs to make it at least that long.

The fourth day dawns. Mikey shakes him awake as soon as there’s enough light ot see by. Leo bites back a moan as he claws his way upright. Leo thought his arm hurt before but now it feels like someone is pouring lava down it.

He notes with a calmness that boarders on absurdity that he can’t feel his fingers.

Something must show on his face- or maybe he just looks at least halfway as awful as he feels- because Mikey frowns at him when he wakes up.

“I’m worried,” Leo blurts out. “If this takes much longer then- I don’t think- he’s already been sick for so long.” “We’ll find it. Today, I’m sure. I’ve got a good feeling.” Leo tries to smile for him and hopes the shaky thing he offers up is enough. Well. At least one of them is feeling good.

Leo is lucky. He’s always been lucky. Luck runs out eventually, it always does. But not today. Maybe it helps that Leo isn’t hoping for something for nothing. Because on day four they strike gold.

Mikey is a short bit away, digging through the rubble with his power, hunting for anything with even the chance of helping. Leo is doubled over just out of his site, trying to stifle his stomach’s efforts to rebel against him.

Don’t hurl, he tells himself, if you hurl there’s no way Mikey won’t realize something is wrong.

He forces his eyes open, hoping that focusing on something will help. And then Leo’s eyes fall on a shattered glass cabinet, several packs of some something promisingly adorned in cartoon human children. He reaches in, flips it, and feels a wash of relief when he realizes it’s exactly what they’re looking for.

“Mikey- Mikey look-” everything fuzzes, tumbles. There’s something under him. He blinks back blurs of color, tries to resolve them into something coherent. Mikey’s face hovers over him, mouth moving. He looks upset. “What's the matter?” he tries to ask. “Leo! Leo, are you sick? What hurts?” “Arm,” Leo answers without thinking.

Oh shit. Oh shit he’s not supposed to let Mikey know. But it’s a little late for that. At least the panic clears his head a little. Mikey makes a wounded sound in the back of his throat as he uncovers the bite.

“Leo.” “Yeah, I know. Sorry… sorry for lying.” He watches Mikey’s lip wobble until Mikey catches it in his teeth. “Leo this is bad! We- I don’t know if we have the supplies to treat this!” Leo hums. Now that the panic is fading it’s getting so much harder to think. He lifts his good hand before he can forget and flops it over towards Mikey. “S’okay. We can go back now.” Mikey takes the box of medicine with shaky fingers. “Leo,” he croaks.

Mikey is talking. Something… probably important? He looks scared but they’re not under attack. He’s pretty sure they’re not. Leo tries to focus on him anyway but it’s so hard. He’s so tired.

He’s been tired but there was no resting, not properly, not until they got what they needed. They do now so it’s fine, he can rest his eyes a bit.

Good. Seeing is hard too. Just blurs and colors.

He feels Mikey’s hand on his face, his voice in his ears. He tries to pay attention but he’s slipping, sliding away.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, but he’s out before he can think of what, specifically, he’s sorry for.

Leo doesn’t remember the trip back, just the thud of Mikey landing. Someone screaming. A hand squeezing his. Small. Thin fingers. Lots of them.

“April?” he might mumble. He thinks. “Shhh, rest big guy,” Probably-April says. “Donnie has it. He’s gonna fix it.” Oh. That’s good. He lets himself sink, lets her hold him together while he waits for Donnie to do what Donnie does best.

A light in his face. “Am I dying?” he says. Thinks? Someone hisses. Angry sound. Who does that again? “Not if I have anything to say about it. And I have a lot to say about it.” Oh. Donnie is here. That’s good. Didn’t someone say he was coming? “Now go to sleep, you don’t want to be awake for this part.” Leo doesn’t get a chance to answer, he’s already sinking again.

Leo blinks up at the ceiling of Donnie’s lab. He spends a good while just staring at it, trying to get his brain to work. His arm throbs. “Ow.”

Some several things crash and shatter and then Donnie''s face hovers into view. “How do you feel- nauseous? any pain, aches, fever? Chills?” “Uh, my arm hurts a little?”

“Which one? The one that got bit by one of the most disease ridden things in the apocalypse and then went four days without medical care or the other one?” “Hey I did some medical care!” “You did FIRST AID. You know, the thing you do to help someone before you get them ACTUAL MEDICAL CARE.”

Leo winces. There’s no arguing about that one. “Ok well, I was hoping we’d find the medicine and get back before it got too bad.” “Well. You didn’t.” “Yeah, I guess. How long was I out?” he asks. He tries to lift his arm but he can’t feel it move. He frowns. “It… barely hurts anymore. Uh. Donnie? I can’t- Um. Donnie. I can’t feel my arm.”

Donnie’s face twitches. Leo tries to turn his head to look at his arm. Donnie’s hand darts out out to stop him. Leo looks at Donnie again. Donnie looks away, grimacing and refusing to make eye contact.

“Donnie-” “Don’t look yet.” Leo tries to move his arm again but there’s still no response. No it’s not just that there isn’t a response. He can't even feel the weight of it.

He can feel his shoulder. He can feel a ring of throbbing pain a few inches above his elbow. And then it’s just… light? Like there’s nothing but air- oh. Oh. Okay then. There’s where his luck ran out. “...Huh. That’s. Hm. Let me see?” “Leo-” “Donnie. Let me see.” Reluctantly, Donnie eases back.

For a second Leo doesn’t do anything. He closes his eyes and breathes. He turns his head. He opens his eyes.

It’s gone.

Everything past his first crescent marking is gone.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep, measured, breath. Okay, he thinks. Okay. He’s a medic. He knew this was a possibility.  Donnie starts eyeing him nervously.

“Did he make it?” Leo asks at last. “...Yeah he made it,” Donnie says quietly. Leo feels like he's fully breathing out for the first time since Cassandra burst into the infirmary with a sick baby in her arms. "Good. That's good." Donnie puts his hand over the end of Leo's nub, covering the scar. He stares at the floor and says nothing. Silence reigns. Leo stares up at the ceiling, letting it settle around them.

Until the door slams open and the rest of his family tumble through the door, both Caseys included.

The last knot of tension loosens from him at the sight of Casey Jr, happily wiggling in his mom’s arms as he flails his arms at Raph.

He tears his eyes away as his family gathers around him, worried and loud, and Leo only knows one way to calm them down.

“So. I’m guessing I'm the opposite of... All Right now, huh?” Cassandra covers Casey Jr's ears. Donnie leans away, inhaling sharply. “Why are you like this?“ he asks. “Because it's all I've got... Left” Raph groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Already?” “Put him back under,” April says, deadpan. “Boooo,” Mikey says, and Leo pretends he doesn’t sound two steps away from tears.   “I hate you so much,” Donnie lies, a few screens manifesting around him. He taps away with the hand that isn't still covering the scar on what remains of Leo's arm while Leo laughs at his own terrible jokes.

“You no longer have a choice about getting a prosthetic. Mikey tried to say I had to ask before implanting experimental technology in your body but you know what? I’m making an executive decision. I can’t live with the puns.”

Leo starts laughing harder, so hard that it circles right back around to sobbing. He’s buried in a pile before the first sob can even fully leave him. Donnie’s eyes stay on the screen even as he shifts his hand to Leo’s shoulder and squeezes. “I’ll fix it. Don’t worry.”

Leo spends a lot of time sleeping but he’s never alone when he wakes up.

There’s Raph, showing off the balls he’s threading onto his mask tails so Casey Jr can climb them while Cassandra sits nearby, once more restitching her perpetually tearing sleeves on her shirts.

He wakes to Mikey making little fish or birds dance in the air while Casey Jr sits in his lap and reaches for them.

Or there’s April pouring over battle plans with a mug in one hand and the other wrapped around Casey Jr.

Point is there’s a lot of Casey Jr. So Leo really should be prepared to wake up with a tiny weight on his chest, healthy and safe and sound. And still so very tiny. His breath hitches, he doesn’t dare move.

“Bemused scoff.”

Leo carefully turns his head toward where Donnie is busily typing away at something.

“You know you can’t avoid holding him forever. Even I've held him." Leo gives Donnie the flattest look he can manage. Sure. Donnie has held Casey Jr. Once in a blue moon when there was literally no one else to do it (and Leo's hands were firmly tucked under his arms.) For about sixty seconds total. "...I've held him more than you have.”

Leo grimaces. “Look, I wasn’t cut out for holding delicate stuff when I had two arms. It’s an even worse idea now that I’m twice as likely to drop him.”

“Invalid excuse. I’m already working on a solution to your arm situation.” Donnie waves his hands and his ninpo sparks, building a blue print of an arm and some other thing hovering in the air between them.

“These are the schematics for a bio-mechanical arm and a socket implant to allow it to safely interface with your nero-” Leo’s brain glazes over the rest of Donnie’s explanation.

“...So you want to turn me into a kick ass cyborg?” he asks as soon as Donnie is done. “Did you listen to none of what I just said?” “C’mon, Don, I’ve got you for all the nerd stuff.” “Exasperated sigh, yes I’m turning you into a kick ass cyborg.” “Sweet,” Leo says, yawning. Donnie huffs. “Go back to sleep, Nardo.” “Can’t, baby could fall,” Leo mumbles. “I won’t let him fall. Just rest.” And Leo trusts his brother. So he does.

It takes a frustratingly long time for Leo to recover enough for the surgery to implant the port for the arm in his stump. It’s more low profile than he expected, hardly noticeable at all unless you’re looking head on at it.

Then there’s a whole other saga of learning how to use the arm Donnie has built him. It’s clunkier than Donnie’s preferred standards but it works almost as seamless as his real one. He gets good with it and he gets good with it fast because with the Krang you either do it fast or you don’t do it all.

The unintended and unwanted side effect of this is that now his family are no longer accepting “I’m not good enough with my arm I might drop him” as a valid excuse to not hold Casey Jr.

And they are very, very, intent on getting him to hold Casey Jr.

Look. Leo is thanking sweet pizza supreme in the sky and every one of the Hamato ancestors, Casey Jr bounces back from being sick like it never happened.

He bounces and wiggles, he babbles and giggles, as though less than a week or so ago he wasn’t so sick that Leo and his family (literally) risked life and limb to get him medicine. And Leo is thrilled. Really.

It’s just that he wishes his family would stop encouraging Casey Jr’s newest favorite game- trying to grab Leo. Because apparently one of any baby’s favorite thing is whatever they can’t have.

“Here! Hold him!” Mikey holds Casey out so that he faces Leo. Casey Jr, who seems to have a sixth sense for when someone is playing the 'try to get Casey close enough to touch Leo' game,  is thrilled. His tiny arms wave at Leo, itty-bitty fingers clenching like they’re ready to latch on the second they’re close enough to touch him.

“W-wait, I can’t!” Leo protests for the thousandth time. But Mikey isn’t taking no for an answer this time. A nudge of mystic power keeps Leo from fleeing. All Leo can do is tuck his dangerous un-baby proofed metal arm away from tender baby skin and wave his flesh hand pleadingly.

“C’mon Leo… you have to hold him eventually.”  Mikey cajoles, gently waggling Casey Jr.

“Not happening, no way.” Leo leans back as far as Mikey’s powers will let him.

“Yes way,” Mikey says, holding Casey closer and closer. Casey is giggling furiously, tiny arms flying at top speed.

“Do you even see how tiny he is?” Leo points at the baby, just in case Mikey needs a reminder. “I could break him with one finger!” There’s a tiny nudge to said finger. Leo looks down. Casey Jr is copying him, nudging Leo’s much larger finger with his own.

Mikey gets a look on his face. A terrible, evil, look.

“One finger? Like thiiiiis one?” Mikey grins as he lifts his middle fingers away from Casey Jr’s body. Leo freezes. “Mikey. Mikey no.”

“Whats that? Oh nooooo.... I can’t hear you over the sound of my grip slipping!” Mikey sing-songs. “Don’t you dare!” Leo stares at him, horrified and frozen. He won’t. Surely he won’t. Cassandra would murder him. Raph would double murder him. He wouldn't. Right? Right??? “Oh no! I hope someone catches the poor delicate baby!” And then Mikey drops Casey Jr.

Leo shrieks. He forgets that Mikey is literally magic and does not need his hands to hold a building, much less a baby.

“Mikey what the fuck!” Leo squawks, hands flying forward and closing around the tiny delicate bundle that is- … not falling towards the ground at all actually.

The gears turn, the realization that he's been tricked sets in. Leo glares at Mikey. Mikey grins, unrepentant, and waves his faintly glowing hands, a glow also present around a perfectly safe Casey Jr. The glow vanishes and Leo feels the surprisingly greater weight of the baby properly in his hands for the first time.

“Ahhhh Mikey- Mikey take him back!” Mikey stubbornly keeps his hands in the air and backs away, still grinning. “You’re fine, you’ve got this.” “I don’t have this!” in spite of saying this Leo is already tucking Casey closer to him. “It’s fiiinnne, you're doing fine! Look, he’s having a great time!”

Tiny clumsy fingers hit his jaw, drawing his eyes down. Casey Jr has one hand buried in Leo’s scarf. The other is pressed to the highest part of Leo’s face it can reach. As he looks down they stretch up, reaching for the vibrant red markings on his face.

“Ah- what- what does he want?” “Awww he likes your stripes, hold him higher!”

Hesitantly, Leo shifts the baby a little higher in his arms and Casey’s little fingers smack against his markings, clenching against them as best the pudgy little things can. Leo chuckles. “What? You want those? Hate to break it to you bud but they’re kind of attached to me.” Big dark eyes lock onto his. Casey Jr babbles. His little fingers flex against Leo’s face again.

Someone makes a noise like a slowly deflating balloon. Leo looks up to find Raph has found them. He’s standing in the doorway, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Please tell me Donnie has a good angle on this,” he says, voice wobbling. Raph’s com clicks on and switches itself to speaker mode. “Sending you the best shots as I speak,” says Donnie’s voice. “I hate all of you,” Leo lies. Mikey snickers at him, Raph is too busy cooing to reply. And then Casey Jr realizes Raph is there and decides he’s done being held by Leo. He leans his entire body toward Raph and puts all of his tiny baby might into wiggling free of Leo's grip.

“Oh fuck-” “Don’t cuss in front of the baby!” “Raph. Raph.” “You’re doing fine, relax-”  “He’s gonna fall! I’m gonna drop him- Raph!” Raph easily scoops Casey Jr up, saving Leo from the terrifying force of a wiggly baby.

Casey Jr giggles and grabs for Raph’s mask tails while Leo dramatically flops to the floor. Mikey continues to snicker at Leo’s expense, floating over to pat his head.

“I can’t believe you pretended to drop him just to trick me into holding him,” Leo groans. “You what?” Raph’s head snaps over to them. Mikey freezes. “I had mystic hands on him the whole time!” “Baby holding is a two hand activity!” “You literally hold him with one hand!” “Raph’s hand is big enough to count as two!” “Oh that is so not fair!” “... Leo watch the little man for a minute.” Raph sets Casey Jr down by Leo’s head. Leo makes an inarticulate sound of horror but before he can protest Raph is already bolting for Mikey.

Mikey flees with a yelp.    Leo looks at Casey Jr. Casey Jr looks at him. “So, you come here often?” Casey Jr stuffs his fist in his mouth and makes a garbled noise around it, almost recognizable as a very turtle like chirp. Leo checks that his brothers are out of ear shot and then chirps back. Casey Jr’s eyes widen and sparkle. He takes his damp hand out of his mouth and smacks Leo in the face with it. Leo grimaces. “Thanks.” In the distance, Mikey screams as Raph catches him but it's just as quickly followed by laughter.

Casey Junior grows up in between loss and stolen joy and forgotten childhood memories. He gets old enough to ask questions. Inevitably, the day comes when he asks “Sensei, how did you lose your arm?”

And Leo lies.

Or, well… He doesn’t lie so much as he just… leaves out some details. Details Casey Jr does not and will not ever know if Leo gets his way.

“Ah, you know… Krang dog got a lucky bite in. By the time I got back to base it was the arm or me and Donnie chose me.” He says it with a light little shrug, like it’s no big deal.  

Because for Leo, it’s not a big deal. Between losing an arm and losing family he’d chose the arm over and over again.

[eleni-cherie]

a thief's end ✨ || bts • myg - chapter 0.4

"so eager to be in a headlock again?"

"only if it's by you."

he thought he was done with the criminal life and ready for some peace and quiet. but his plans collapsed in the form of a strange girl who was in trouble.

© 2023 | eleni_cherie

»»»

masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to lovers s2l

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

»»»

Soyeon struttered with half-lidded eyes through the halway. Flinching when accidentally scratching her itching forehead, having forgotten about her covered wound.

A long yawn escaped her lips then. Not because she hadn't slept enough though. More the opposite. For the first time in weeks, she'd actually slept through without waking up panickedly at every little noise. It was also the first time in weeks she'd slept for more than just a few hours. For ten, in fact. Her body probably having been more exhausted than she knew.

Rubbing her eyes, still trying getting adjusted to the light, she passed by a door that was left ajar. Hearing someone moving inside. Now, Soyeon wasn't one to snoop around other people's business. She was, however, a curious cat and couldn't help but to sneak in a glance. Catching a glimpse of a dark figure and a sword reflecting the sunlight, being held horzontally behind his black waves. And Soyeon bit her lips, realising it was Yoongi who was standing with his back towards her and moving his katana against an invisible target, seemingly being one with the blade. Almost as if he was dancing with it. His back muscles flexing under his shirt with every step. 

He was training in what looked like a training room.

She swallowed, slowly backing away from the door. It was the first time she saw him with his sword and probably the most attractive thing she had ever witnessed. She could feel her pulse against her skin.

Turning around, she decided to quickly search the kitchen and perhaps some coffee instead, when the door behind her opened widely. Causing her to freeze. She slowly glanced over her shoulder, seeing Yoongi standing there. Sweatbeads running over his flushed face and arms, streaks of hair sticking on his forehead. Oh god.

He combed back his hair. A cocky grin spreading over his features then. "It's not very polite to spy on someone." He almost laughed out when seeing her flustered expression. 

"I-I wasn't.. how did you even hear me? I was super quiet and you were focusing on your training."

Her adorable confusion made him chuckle. "One should not only see with the eyes, but also with the ears," he simply stated, matter-of-factly before returning into the room. Sliding the sword into its sheath.

Even this simple move looked immensely attractive on him.

"D'you have coffee? Strong coffee."

He hummed, looking at her briefly. "It's on the upper cupboard, on the left."

She nodded, holding herself back from thanking him as his words from last night still rang in her ears. And suddenly she got reminded of her own little slip up when she'd kissed his cheek for a second time. Feeling her own cheeks blush at the memory, quickly making her way down the hallway and to the kitchen. The tension between them laid thickly in the air, in a way she could barely breath when he was in the same room as her.

She took a deep breath, opening what she assumed was the right cupboard. And indeed, it seemed right. Although the coffee was on the top shelf which was unfortunate for her as she wasn't the tallest person, not even when wearing her 10cm heels.

Nevertheless, she attempted to try as best as she could. Getting on her tiptoes and stretching her body. Her fingers lightly touching the container, but pushing it further away instead. She huffed and was about to look for a chair to use , when suddenly a toned armed appeared from behind, stretching over her head and reaching the container with ease.

She could sense his chest lightly touching her shoulder blades.

"Here." He held  the container out for her. His eyes smiling as he shook it, the coffee powder rustling inside.

"Thanks." She didn't intend to whisper but somehow her voice didn't want to leave her throat. Absentmindedly staring back at him when her hand reached for the coffee. Not having expected him to stand in such close proximity.

He nodded and stepped back, walking out of her view. And she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

After making herself a coffee, she took a seat on the large couch. Sitting cross-legged and glancing out at the sunlit buildings while taking a sip. And while staring outside and enjoying observing trees rustling in the  summer breeze she realised it had been awhile since she could take a breath and simply take in her surroundings and the outside world. She had almost forgotten the reason she had been in Yoongi's apartment in the first place. Her fingers wandering up to the wound, gently patting it over the bandaid. It hurt. She only hoped it'd heal soon.

Inhaling deeply, she took another sip and put the mug down on the table. Grabbing her phone then, she opened the photo she had previously shown Yoongi. The photo with that cursed necklace. A long sigh escaping her lips as her fingers traced over it. 

Just why? What was it about this necklace?

"You said your grandfather got it from a business trip. Was it maybe Europe?"

Startled, she lightly jumped in her seat. Almost throwing the device away. Yoongi was glancing from behind her shoulder, leaning over the couch with amusement in his eyes about her reaction.

"I-I got no clue, why?"

"According to my friend, the ornaments look like it."

"The.. what? Your friend?"

He walked around the couch, plopping next to her. Only now she noticed his wet strands and clean clothes. He had taken a shower. Sitting now next to her in a white shirt that had a few see-through spots due to water droplets falling onto it. His long hair curling at the tips, messily falling on the back of his neck and ears. Her cheeks were burning.

"Yeah, I sent Jimin your photo last night. Out of us three, he knows best about jewelry so I figured, if someone knew what's the deal with this necklace, it might be him."

Of course he had to involve Jimin in this. After all, he was the one always after the most precious gems in the world. He knew how to differentiate a real from a fake one and even their degree of purity. And of couse he also knew a thing or two about jewelry and the different styles and epochs around the world. 

And Jimin was of course willing to help, especially when seeing the photo of who he'd be helping out with his knowledge. It wasn't in his nature to ignore a pretty woman in need and on top of it, a pretty woman his friend was seemingly into.

His exact words being: "Is this her? She's hot! Good for you, man!"

Soyeon's eyes widened at the mention of Jimin. Curiosity filling her when she interrupted his train of thoughts. "And? What did he say?"

"He said the golden ornaments around the gem and the overall style remind him of 18th century european jewelry."

She mused over that information for a bit. "I'm not sure.. could be. I remember him saying he went to Italy once."

He simply nodded then, pointing at the mug on the table then. "You ate anything or is coffee your whole breakfast?"

She folded her arms in front of her and cocked a brow at him. "And what about you?"

"I don't eat breakfast."

She huffed under her breath, taking another sip from the brown liquid to hide the smile creeping on her features. It'd become lukewarm by now. "I'll eat later, don't worry." Another thought crossing her mind then. "Say.." she began then, unintentionally clutching her fingers tighter around the mug. Uncertain of how appropiate her request would be. "You're very good in sword fighting or fighting in general, right?"

"Quite a reluctant question considering you were observing me training," he chuckled with a small teasing smirk, making her gasp. "Yes, I'm very good. In both. Why?"

"Because-!" She abrupty paused, lowering her voice a little. Her eyes shy, falling to the side. "I was thinking, if you could show me a bit? I mean, for self-defense purposes. I know one day doesn't equal years of training but.." She heaved a sigh. "I just don't want to feel entirely helpless next time they show up.. Just some basics." Subconsciously, her fingers travelled up to the bandaid. She slowly looked at him then, fearing of his rejection.

However, Yoongi was simply looking at her with steady eyes. He nodded then and stood up.

"Follow me."

Shyly, she followed him into his training room. Him heading to a bag and grabbing a wooden sword, a bokken, out of it. Handing it to her.

"The most important part is that you see it as an extension of your arm, not an addition."

Soyeon looked at the object in her hand, her grip tightening around its shaft and she began to sway it around. Getting accustomed to its feel while he continued explaining.

"The main principle is one strike - one kill. That is to say, no wasted movement, total focus, and perfect timing to deliver a single, fight ending blow." Yoongi watched her nod with a focused expression. He stepped closer to her and held her hand that was holding the bokken, bringing the shaft to her attention. "You're holding it too tight. If it's a normal bat, you can hold it tighter. But with a katana you need to hold it like a tennis racquet," he said quietly and moved her fingers to the right positions. Brushing off the tingly feeling when guiding them as he was too immersed in explaining. Not noticing the way her brown eyes gleamed at him. And for a moment, she forgot to pay attention as she was simply absorbed by his soft lips moving. His voice getting drown in the sound of her quickened pulse ringing through her ears.

"-The feeling you should have is that it's kind of floating." He let go of her. And only then she snapped out of her thoughts, watching him taking his own sword out then and letting it glide through the air. His eyes moving along the blade, "The more you put a death grip on it, the less control you have. Grip it more like a paintbrush." He twirled it around, before cutting through an empty soda can that was on the small table by the wall. Slicing it into two. "And always pay attention to the edge alignment. That of course, if you use an actual blade."

Her eyes went round as she observed him in awe.

"The most basic way to use a katana properly is to cast it out like a fishing line and draw cut the blade inwards using the elbows close to the body," he continued, holding his sword up vertically over his head. Drawing it out in an abrupt yet easy way, pulling with the left hand at the base until it reached the head or shoulder of the invinsible target. "This move should be completed without the use of power, the right hand is only there to support and direct the direction of the movement. Nothing more."

He looked at her expectedly then and she took it as a sign to try it out herself. Straightening, she adjusted her grip into the same he had shown her. Trying keeping a relaxed grip, like a brush. And indeed, it felt easier to sway it like that. She saw him nodding in approval, taking a deep breath then she heaved it over her head, like a fishing line and threw it out. She immediatelly looked at him to see if he was content. "Not bad, repeat it a few more times until it really flows naturally."

As she did so, while he positioned himself in front of her. "Aim here," he said and tapped on his forehead. Soyeon's eyes grew wider. "I might hurt you."

"I won't let you actually hit me," he scoffed, laughing as if her worries had been ridiculous, "Just aim there."

She inhaled deeply and hesitately, tried. Failing a few times and getting irritated with herself, which amused him as he could see she was determinded and didn't like failing, which seemingly motivated her more. And eventually she did it. Well, almost. His hands stopped the bokken before actually hitting him, catching it in between his hands only centimetres away. "Good."

He stepped aside and let her repeat the movement a few more times. His eyes laying on her observingly with a fond almost proud look while she kept slicing through the air.

"Alright," Yoongi spoke up then, making her pause. He walked up in front of her again. "Now tilt it a little bit diagonally, steered by the left hand. Try hit my left shoulder in a way it'd cut to my right armpit." His finger traced over his chest, showing the way the blade should move.

She pushed back her hair, already feeling a few streaks sticking against her forehead. Taking a deep breath then, she tried relaxing again. Letting the speed, weight and momentum of the wooden blade do the work, not forcing anything. She only missed him by an inch and still, he didn't even wince - finishing in a position somewhat lower than horizontal with her elbows close to touching her body. It became easier the more she did it.

"Not bad." His nod of approval made her smile widely. 

Her arms were getting tired but she wanted to prove to him and herself that she could actually learn something from this. That next time she wouldn't be a little weakling. Even if she failed in the end, at least she wanted to be able to say that she tried defending herself and perhaps even actually succeeded.

And she continued practicing the move over and over again, not noticing Yoongi leaving the side and approaching her from behind. Until she felt a strong arm wrapping around her neck, while another went around her arms, pressing them against her torso. Making her unable to move them.

"Don't forget to keep an eye on your surroundings. Never let your guard down," he whispered. His voice vibrating low in her ear, his warm breath brushing over the back of her neck in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. And her legs grew weak. 

"Imagine one of these guys catches and holds you like this, unable to move. What do you do?" His question sounded more like a command and her mind went blank.

Yeah, what would she do?

She bit her lips, weighing out her options to free herself - not that she necessarily wanted to escape Yoongi's embrace. Hell no, if she could she'd stay like this forever. The close proximity, his body heat and his arms wrapped around her, pressing her back against his chest - ultimately clouding her mind. She was in a haze.

However, she had asked him to teach her self-defense and that was what he was trying to do. She knew that, so she had to stay focused and not get distracted by the smell of his scent.

"Maybe.." She sighed. She didn't know. She felt helpless in his grip. Now it was only him, next time it might be someone else. Her hands automatically went up, grabbing onto his arm.

"Good, now shrug your shoulders so you create a space where you can tuck your chin down to your body."

She did as he said.

"Tuck your chin into the crook of my elbow, that's where the most wiggle room is."

She obeyed.

"Now sink down in my hold by bending your knees. Literally drop all your weight."

She bent her knees, dropping her weight.

"Now you get a chance to get out of the headlock by either pulling at my fingers, stomping on my foot or do any other disabling move that you can." His arms loosened around her and let go, stepping back.

Soyeon inhaled deeply and turned around, locking gazes with him. "And what if someone attacks me from the front?"

Yoongi hummed. "There are four soft spots on someone's body that you can punch to hurt an attacker without hurting yourself, can you think of any?"

She squinted her eyes, looking him up and down when her eyes fell on one particular spot. Feeling her cheeks heating up, embarrassed of her own immature  behaviour. "Well, I think the most obvious one would be between the legs," she giggled then, peeking at his groin before quickly looking away with folded lips. And he chuckled.

"Right, that's one of them. Can you name another one?" She shrugged, unsure of which other parts there could be. He dragged a sigh. "The throat is one of them," he said then, instinctively holding his neck and rubbing it, "Closing their air pipe for a few seconds gives you time to flee." She nodded, understanding. "The others would be the eyes and the gut. If you kick or punch someone there, it should also give you enough time to flee. Don't go for another strike, though," he warned, looking at her urgently, "Unless you can't run away. Otherwise don't, just run."

She nodded again and looked down at her small hand that shaped into a fist. Her brows knitting together as she fell into deep thoughts. Only his laugh brough her back to her senses and she perked up. Seeing him grin teasinly.

"You wanna try it out on me or why do you look so mad?"

A smirked tucked on her lips. "Only if you give me a reason to."

Shaking his head, Yoongi laughed under his breath and grabbed his sword from where he had left it. Walking back to its sheath, sliding it back in. "It wasn't much, but I hope it'll help you in case I won't be there to protect you," he quietly said then. Not daring to look at her. Missing her lips parting at the mention of him wanting to protect her. Her heart fluttered. 

"At least I know more than before now," she quietly smiled, "Thank you. I know you said I shouldn't always say that, but I truly mean it."

He hummed, glancing at her over his shoulder. "It's okay. We can practice more at another time."

She nodded.

"I'd like that." 

»»»

"I'll be back soon."

That was all that was written on the note Yoongi had left her while she was taking a shower.

She huffed, letting herself fall onto the couch. Well, at least he let her know.

Her eyes wandered around the living room then, falling onto a bookshelf stacked with books. And instantly she got curious about what kind of books he might like to read. She herself wasn't much of a reader, besides mangas, but as she was bored and didn't know what else to do in his apartment, she walked up there. 

From the titles she could tell that they were mostly contemporary fictional works, but also some classics. One cover catching her eye then. So she carefully pulled it out and settled back to the couch, reading it to pass some time until he returned, wherever he had disappeared to.

Not knowing Yoongi was actually not that far away. In fact, he was still in the building.

Letting his eyes wander over the view from up the rooftop. The bright afternoon sun bathing everything in a burning hue. He stood there in the shade as he waited for the ringing dial tone to finally cut off and the person he was calling to pick up. A stern look on his soft features as he inpatiently chewed the inside of his cheek.

"Hello?"

He breathed, revieled his call got answered after all. "Hey, pops, it's been awhile.."

There was a small silence before Seokjin's jarring squeak echoed through the phone line. "Yoongi? To what do I owe the honour of this call? Last thing I know you were somewhere in the mountains."

"H-how did you know?"

"Please.." the older guy laughed out, "I got my sources. I'm an interpol agent after all. You might be in a non-member state, but I still get my info on you."

".. Jimin mentioned meeting you here. Is he your source?"

"Perhaps. But say now, why are you calling? Not that I don't appreciate you not having forgotten about me, but.. I know you didn't just call because you missed me."

Yoongi laughed under his breath. Sure, Jimin had been the one with the weird frenemy-relationship with Seokjin, however, him and Taehyung had also been quite involved in it. Always seeing the leader of the theft department as more than a simple antagonist, considering all the times they had helped each other.

"Actually, yeah. I got your number from Jimin because of a thing.."

Seokjin sighed dramatically. "Oh, no. Did you get back into the criminal life again? I knew Arabella and Jimin couldn't hold back, but I didn't expect you to leave retirement so early."

"That's not the case." He paused, contemplating again. "At least not fully. It's just.. this person I met -"

"I should've known," Seokjin exclaimed with an overdramatic sigh, cutting him off, "Obviously it's because of a woman. Although you didn't strike me as someone like that.."

Yoongi groaned quietly, squeezing his eyes shut. He had forgotten how noisy agent Kim could be. "Yes, it's a woman, but that's not the point. Some guys are after her or rather the necklace her grandfather left her. We don't know why, but there must be more into it since they're persistent -"

"So you're asking me to use my interpol database and connections and try dig some info."

He breathed out. "Yeah, pretty much."

"Hm, didn't Jimin tell you that I stepped down from leader and am rather a paper-pusher now?"

"He did, but I figured your little assistants, Jungkook and Skylar, who're in charge now, wouldn't be too keen in helping out a wanted thief in exile. That's why I'm asking you."

Seokjin hummed, not able to argue with that. He trusted his younger colleagues who were now the leaders of the department, but he wasn't so certain if they'd like helping out one of the thieves who, more or less, gave them the run-around. They knew and respected his unusual relationship with them, but they'd never participate in it.

"What makes you think I'd want to though?" he teased then. "Who knows, I may even get in trouble if it gets leaked that I'm in contact with you guys."

"I know. And I wouldn't ask you if it wasn't important."

For a moment it was silent. The agent thinking about his sober words. "Alright, if it's for someone important to you, I'll do it." Before Yoongi could react, he spoke up again. "But only 'cause you saved my ass last year in Cairo. So we're even now."

"S-sure."

"Alright, send me all the info you got and I'll get back to you."

They hung up and Yoongi took a deep breath, quickly making his way back inside into the cool building, not able to stand any longer in the afternoon heat.

He stepped into his apartment, wiping the sweat from his face as he plodded into the open kitchen. Grabbing himself a glass of cold water and gulping it down in one go when the corner of his eyes caught a glimpse of the couch. He set the glass down and paused. Eyes widening when seeing Soyeon sitting there. Too immersed in the book she was reading, one of the novels from his bookshelves, to notice him. A sight he could get used to, having her sit against one side of the couch, knees bent and a book resting against her thighs while her feline eyes carefully glided over the sentences written with a light crease between her brows.

However, what had surprised him more was the sight of her in one of his favourite shirts, which was rather looking like a dress on her petite body. And she looked incredibly beautiful like that. Damp hair flowing over her shoulder and her body engulfed in that large shirt, in his shirt.

He coughed then as a flush crept up his face. "H-hey, sorry for randomly leaving. I had to make a call."

She raised her eyes from the page she was currently reading. Only now realising he had returned. "Oh, you're back!"

"Y-yeah."

She nodded, focusing back on the sentence she had been on. Sliding his note on the page then as a bookmark, she closed the book. Letting it rest on her lep. "Was wondering where you left to," she smiled.

He motioned at her then with his chin. "I see you found my shirts."

She looked down, tucking at the black shirt before folding her lips shyly. "Hope you don't mind. I don't have any other clothes after all. But I swear I didn't snoop around your stuff, I only looked for something to wear."

He simply nodded, looking away with a smile.

"Sure, no problem. It suits you anyway."

»»»

next chapter: 0.5 here

Don't forget to like, reblog & leave feedback!♡ It motivates me to keep writing :)

[yinnebomacompany]

Another hard days morning today putting up and displaying my art in my company front studios halways. Always putting up more of my art and displaying it. Looks good , very creative walking through the front hallways. My two companies Aeather Inc. Company and Heptagon Arts Studios LLC Company. Aeather Inc. Technology, computer , Video game , software , and hardware Company. Heptagon Arts Studios LLC Cartoons, Animation, Comics , Media , Art, Entertainment Company and Movies/television Studios. . #Art #arts #studios #studio #creator #creating #create #creativity #creative #creation #creaction #creations #creators https://www.instagram.com/p/Cin6EHlPRS-/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[mini-melo]

i want to apoligize to every batman and dc fan out there, but free frankly im reading fanfiction while having only watched a few animated movies and the teen titans. i feel like i should be ashamed but tbh im enjoying the batfam a little too much

[flashsuggestion]

//wally’s halloween costume!! hes, sexy batman

[definitely-not-an-alb]

fanfic tropes! identity porn, friends to enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, coffeeshop au (don't have to answer them all, pick what you like). hope work went by quickly :)

Ahhh! Thank you, anon!

Identity Porn

How  likely am I to write it: Identity porn isn’t really a narrative kink  for me, so I wouldn’t go out of my way to put it into anything, if it didn't come up naturally. Or if it would be funny.

What characters/ships/fandoms would I write it for: I don’t  really have a lot of fandom I could do identity porn for, too, so that's the next problem I have. RoL doesn't go for it much, and neither do TMA or Witcher or SGA. In the MCU/marvel comics I'm kind of only invested in Characters that just superhero under their legal name, zero fucks given in all canons I'm aware of, so oops there. Hannibal, maybe? Hannibal might work. Altho I prefere season 2 era, with everyone vague degrees of aware of each other's bs and scheming like petty murder divas.

Friends to enemies to lovers

How  likely am I to write it: Very unlikely. I think the only thing with this dynamic I like is Hannibal, as in, both Hannigram and Clannibal and Clannigram, but I don't think I'd really seek it out in fic or write it. I don't even know why, I should be into The Drama Of It All, but I'm just not.

What characters/ships/fandoms would I write it for: Like I said, Hannigram/Clannibal/Clannigram, if it's something that retells an arc. I don't really do Ironstrange, but enemies to lovers or friends to enemies to lovers might be the only way I would, probably. They just don't get along in canon, and I DO NOT UNDERSTAND why people ship it so much. Also why is their Doc always ooc. Enough moaning, I'll stop, I'll stop. Have fun ya'll, but stop the goddamn cross/mass-tagging. There shouldn't be that much Ironstrange in the gen tag, ya hear me?

hurt/comfort

How  likely am I to write it: VERY LIKELY. Hmmmmmm give me that good hurt/comfort.

What characters/ships/fandoms would I write it for: Basically everything, lol. All my faves are idiots who need to be shipped with therapy and tortured with hugs. The Bev & Thomas fic is very hurt comfort-y, as is the Nonromantic-Soulmates WIP. Yes I know I never finish anything, shhhh. There's also an unfinished Strangewong fic in my drafts that's technically sick!fic (I MEAN ... what else lmao) and involves cuddling and soup and being sad about Endgame, so. Which, btw, is THE ONLY reason I will ever acknowledge that dumbassery masquerading as plot. To mine it for FRIDGE HORROR *evil laughter*. And then hand out soup.

coffeeshop au

How  likely am I to write it: Relatively unlikely? I don't really do fluff without plot (and I'm down with emotions as plot or snapshots that reveal something halway and sideways), and incidentally the only version of this trope I ever started would need a Graphic Violence tag lol. (If it wasn't LANGUISHING IN MY DRAFTS.) So I think I might be doing this trope wrong. Also doesn't help that I have experience manning a beer-counter / drink station, so I fall hard in the camp of 'that's an awful place for cute/fluffy shenanigans, have ya'll ever worked customer service lol'-camp. I see the appeal, but I also ... don't.

What characters/ships/fandoms would I write it for: Like I said, the only one I ever started was low-key a joke, because I don't do the trope and the fandom didn't have (and still doesn't have) one, and also because, you know. Graphic violence.

Have the first four or so paragraphs of the very unfinished RoL Demi-Monde Coffeeshop ... pre-canon canon divergence. Is there even a tag for that kinda thing? Anyways. I think the best part about this is getting to write a snotty totally-an-adult!!!-Peter who has zero respect for anything and thinks Thomas is the most ridiculous person he ever met. No graphic violence yet, only canon-typical ableist language.

There’s a lot of reasons people hate working in customer service; The bad pay, the atrocious hours, the customers, the service.

I did about two year of it, first on-and-off positions in some retail shops around where I grew up, punctuated by getting dragged along to my mother’s cleaning gigs, and then later, about a year in a not-actually-fancy Coffee House near Russell Square. And I figured afterwards my stint in customer service and retail had, at the very least, taught my younger self some much needed humility and compassion.

I’m kidding, of course. It just confirmed the suspicions I held towards my fellow humans. Especially the kind that start magic duels in public.

Now, I worked in a Coffee House, not a coffeshop, which meant Management got to price everything even more ridiculous then the rest of the world, we played wannabe-jazz elevator music instead of pop and our clientele wasn’t weird and crazy but more slightly bizarre and very deranged.

Like that one vaguely East-European guy who thought combining windowpane and paisley was a grand idea and who we – that’s the staff – did certainly not call Dracula, or the posh black lady who came to pick up her coffee before heading into the City every morning, except for that one time when, I swear on my dad’s record collection, she was wearing a diving suit under her costume, and of course Mister Stranger-Danger, who was the reason younger cousins didn’t get to do their homework behind the counter any more.

Of course we got your everyday stroll-by white girls and hipsters, but our regulars where, as far as I could tell, decidedly posh, but mostly not yet fully upper class, and also completely batshit looney, is what I’m saying. No offence to actual crazy people, because they certainly don’t dress that badly.

That’s why I didn’t even bat an eyelash when one day someone walked into the shop who was either a time-travelling noir-spy or a runaway extra from Downton Abbey.

He was a white guy, in that inexplicable past-40 age range where I can’t tell their age for the life of me, with a side sweep that must have been held in place with actual pomade, and dressed in one of those sleek looking, old suits with the broad, deep lapels and incredible narrow waists. To round off the impression that he’d come over, lean homoerotically close and tell me the name of the Kraut’s informant any moment now, he’d draped a Burberry over his arm and lugged an actual, honest to god walking cane around the city. It seemed impractical to me, but who am I to judge people’s fashion choices; I’m only the barista.

He also had that stiff demeanour about him, which I’d taken as a sign of something shifty going on anywhere else. Here, in seven out of ten cases, and even more with posh dudes, it meant that he longed to order something utterly ridiculous, with a long name, six ingredient and maybe some speculoos dust uptop, but didn’t have the courage too. Honestly, the way grown men start acting once there’s pumpkin spice on the menu is hilarious – you’d think we’re selling sex toys under the table.

[zombiehandzzz]

Hasira got a redesign! The comics will have a blog of their own. I designed to make him look a bit more like a rabbit. His pelt is based off of the rabbit

[taiblogcomics]

There’s Trouble with the Trees

Hey there, an unexpected reference to Scott Pilgrim. Another pony miniseries? Sure, let's do that. Don't think there's much setup for this one, but let's say if you weren't into Ponyville Mysteries, this one might not be up your alley either~

Here's the cover:

Well, if you can't guess by the cover, this is going to be our environmental story. You can tell it's a "green aesop" because of all the different shades of green on the cover. My big question is, who's manufacturing these items for ponies with pop tabs and twist-off caps? Are they unicorn items? Is this perhaps griffin trash, and ponies will have to deal with an uncomfortable message about different species' economic status in addition to an environmental one? And just what is that scaly mound behind the bushes there~?

Surprisingly, you'd think a pony story about the woods would somehow involve the Everfree, but nope. I'm glad this comic remembers that the Everfree is probably too dangerous for three little fillies to spend the weekend camping in, so it takes place in the less-remembered Whitetail Woods. Anyways, the Crusaders go camping, and they're quite competant at it (except Sweetie Belle's attempt at pitching a tent). However, they notice an odd smell after not too long, and find a large amount of garbage scattered around. This is a big problem, and there's only one solution.

The camping trip is seemingly abandoned, and the Crusaders rally their friends as a cleanup crew. Silver Spoon complains that she shouldn't have to clean up a mess she didn't make, and who but Diamond Tiara corrects her: just because they didn't cause it doesn't mean they don't have to fix it. Diamond Tiara's actually really passionate about the woods. She explains to Sweetie Belle that her great-grandmother used to have a cottage in these very woods they'd visit when she was very little, so the woods are important to her father--and not just as a business venture this time. Great-Grandma even used to tell about legends regarding the Spirit of the Forest, a creature rumoured to keep the forest healthy and growing. Hey, we have a title~

With the woods cleaned, the Crusaders go camping again the next weekend. But upon arrival at the campsite again, they find it covered in garbage once more. Their whole previous weekend cleaning was for naught, and they're understandably upset. So obviously the garbage has to be coming from somewhere, right? The Crusaders invoke their investigative work from Ponyville Mysteries and decide to hold a stakeout that night. Come morning, they awaken to find the perpetrators just leaving. Following the group, the Crusaders discover the likely source of their woes: a brand-new lumber mill.

The lumber mill is, of course, run by Filthy Rich (Diamond Tiara's dad, if you need the refresher). They're only just a trio of fillies, but they're inspired by the story Diamond Tiara told them, and think Filthy Rich will listen to reason. They confront him via receptionist, and when he turns up in person, they explain the whole problem to him, specifically pointing out his grandmother's cabin and everything. And... for his part, Filthy Rich is a reasonable stallion. He completely agrees that the woods should not be spoiled, and gives his employees a talking-to then and there. He'll even put in new trash cans for use along the designated trails.

So... That's a happy ending, right? Well, not quite. The Crusaders still see something odd about this whole deal. Namely, if Filthy Rich loves the woods so much, why is he cutting them down? He's a little touchy on this, declaring that he's thought about this and decided this is the best way to use the woods. This will make the woods known and enjoyed throughout Equestria. While the Crusaders don't agree that the woods need to be "used", they do politely bit Filthy Rich good day, and he thanks them again for bringing the trash problem to light. The Crusaders exit, vowing to watch out in case Filthy Rich goes to far. But what can they really do to stop him if he already has, they wonder as they look out across the rather large clearing of cut down trees.

This story’s more complex than the cover implied it to be. About halway through the comic, the story jumps from being a simple Captain Planet PSA to something more akin to The Lorax, and I think it’s better for it. Certainly, the logging industry is a more complex subject than littering (see how easily it was solved in the comic), and I’m interested to see where they go with it. Additionally, Diamond Tiara continues to be written enjoyably well in these comics, giving her some character depth and likeability here.

Next time, the threat of loggin continues, to the horror of our main characters. Hint for the Crusaders: if talking doesn’t work, try direct action~

[harris-coopers]

I’m rewatching this comic con interview with Lili and Camila. And like halway through Cole walks past and flicks Cami’s hair bun and then she looks to see who it was. Lili’s then like “Who was that?” And Cami’s like “Cole” and then Lili just stares in his direction for ages after that. 

[captawesomesauce]

Thoughts from earlier today...

People go into hospitals and don't come out.

This is just a fact. A fact that's happened to me twice on recent occasions. I'm mentioning this because someone asked me why i packed such a full bag of stuff for a simple doctors appointment.

The reason: I learned my lesson.... people go into hospitals and don't come out.

In my case, it wasn't that severe... I did eventually come out... just sometimes takes a few days, weeks, or months.

So I learned my lesson. I learned how miserable it is to be without basic things like clean underwear. How the sounds of a hospital are the worst part if you don't have ear buds or noise cancelling headphones. The beeps, the people crying, the machines constantly sucking and pushing air, the thunk-thunk-thunk of random things in rooms and halways. I learned that there is nothing on tv I want to watch or listen to, and that comics and magazines are better than books because of exhaustion and short attention span. I learned that without a battery pack to charge your phone, you quickly feel so very isolated and trapped.

So I learned my lesson. Because one day I went in with a cough and ended up staying for over a month. I went in to just get a breathing treatment and some meds... they wouldn't let me go home. Not that night, not for many nights. I laid there in the ICU and I was miserable, so very very miserable. It wasn't the illness that was killing me... it was the meds every 2 hrs, the vitals every 4, the tests, the scans, the this, the thats. I could not rest. I could not heal. All I could do was listen to people around me die.... at least 1 a day... and the crying family members as they grieved outside my door ... and I just wanted my headphones so bad to block those sounds out.

Because one day... I went in to my doctor with another cough... and I ended up in a special ward of the ER and kept for days... and I missed thanksgiving... and this time... because it was at school, I had my backpack! And my backpack had everything I needed except for changes of clothes and some other stuff.And it wasn't as bad... and I could block out the sounds, keep myself entertained, keep myself motivated, and I could heal.

So I learned my lesson... and now... now I always pack a big bag... because you never know... you never know when you might not go home that same day... or for days... or for weeks.... So you have a bag, and if you never have to use it... that's a WIN.... and if you need it, you have it, and that's a WIN... because not having it... sucks.

P.S: What's in my bag? -Multiple battery packs for the phone -Long surge protector so it can reach the plugs and then sit on my bed next to me -Chargers and wires for everything -Laptop -Tablet -Kindle -TV dongle and antenna -battery powered fans -large mug -ear buds -large noise cancelling headphones (used with ear buds for double the noise blocking) -socks -comfy shirts -underwear -shorts -a comfy hoody -wet wipes and soft tp cause fuck hospital tp -small bendable clip on light -sunflower seeds -I dont know how to describe it, but they're little blocks attached by a string. you can twist it into all sorts of different ways, and they're great for passing time or occupying yourself when people are shoving needles into your stomach.

[enitnerolf]

Still practicing my not so amazing drawing skills, trying to make it a daily thing.

So, have a half finished Asterix and Obelix comic book front cover. I did that one at work and I had to stop halway through because of things happening.

And a fruity baby. Because I can.