#learning anatomy with dirk

[blackoutbruh]

GORE BLOOD SELFHARM IDK😨😨

i love gore and i love dirk soooo

i was too lazy to come up with a background so i just left references lol

each drawing is in a different style how fickle i am🙄🙄

[slavhew]

2024 redraw of a 2017 dirkus

[frenchfriedgiraffe]

the universe guides me

the universe provides for me

i just wish

that it was a little kinder

[synthetic-sonata]

did i ever post this? no? here's horse dirk. this is old and i have to redo it sometime bc im much better at mlp anatomy now, but basically he's a unicorn that so badly wants to be a pegasus so he made robotic wings.

he uses magic for convenience reasons and is trying to / already learned the magic that allows you to walk on clouds. he wants to move to cloudsdale so fucking badly its not funny.

i think not giving dirk what he wants ( wings/flight/things that fit him ) in an mlp au or any au is intensely funny and makes sense so this is what he got. cringefail horse go work on a gay little robot

[ottiliere]

may i ask why spades slick?

so I am thinking about dirks sexuality right. because he is a gay man. but one who is so immensely traumatized by the act of sex in general that I think he is very turned off to the concept of genuinely engaging with sex (none of his porn is genuine). this likely contributed to the formation of his puppet fetish as well... like his puppet porn is one of the few things he does that comes from an actual unironic place but interspersed with all his other works this is hard to deduce. his smuppet sidehustle, I imagine, is very slow-going because I think he'd be very meticulous about them, especially in the eve of their creation... I think he would've initially learned how to sew "improperly" by completely teaching himself no guides... it was a survival skill at the foremost but now it just makes the whole process a lot more difficult than it needs to be. he would not make a lot of money off these but I think they would be one of his most authentic passions.

anyway. mildly related. I think the sensory aspects of slick would help immensely. the texture of his carapace vs human skin, the noises he makes (diff larynges)...his hands would feel a lot different. different stature, different anatomy altogether... mainly I think the dichotomy between human and carapacian physiology would make the acclimation to sexual encounters with slick much easier than if they were with a human. aside from the obvious low hanging fruit of interspecies relationships i think it would have to be a stereotype that people with traumatic sexual histories often end up dating out of their species. like this would happen irl i firmly believe. if there were another sentient race that you could date aside from all the obvious social stigma. like of course you dont want to bone another human you are SEXAL ASAULT VICTIM. there would be STUDIES on this phenomenon. studies on the correlation between xenophilia and CSA history, in addition to just preference in general. alos really into the idea of them not being abl eto do anything penetrative if imbeing honest i think this idea rules. like it would require just a little too much bending of the most obvious truth (bug penis) to make it work so why not run with it. it also islike. just a realistic problem for them to have like this would be how it is..they would have to work around it and have issues iwht it.

as a starting point: how dirk thinks slick remembers him in a direct selfaware comparison to how he regards slick... even in canon dirk has the tendency to self-depreciate. like he has so much ego he is the MASTERMIND in planning (in his head) but he just genuinely hates himself and has absolutely no self-worth whatsoever so i find it likely that while dirk would get discharged feeling.... conflictedly positive...? over slick's treatment of him it would warp over the years until his perception of everything that happened has completely mutated. like he would RUMINATE over slick and what his fucking motives were for doing what he did for him and these thoughts would incubate. and thats the thing it's so fuckingbeautiful it's real life . like everyone has encounters where you meet someone random by chance and talk for a few hours and then never see each other again but you keep thikning about them in your mind if youre that kind of person. and then it comes to the way dirk handles this and he was with him for a longer period of time too. like. i feel like his MEMORY of the way things went would have the possibility of shifting too. so his perceptions of things change based on that. what he remembers of slick drawing funny caricatures of him he thinks about and thinks about until his mind settles on the fact that slick was actually genuinely making fun of him. just little things like that like very specific episodic memories. the bubbles htey are contained in in his mind each warp individually into their own little beast i guess is how i'm imagining it. i dont think dirk would ever settle on a firm "this is why" negative explanation for everything.different memories of that time just come to him and they all shift in turn to the most negative reasoning for what's happening in that scenario

IMAIGNE THIS SCENE Dirk sititng hunched in his bed with his arm around his legs brought up to his chest and he has his music playing and hes ruminating on slick and the way he changed his mentality forever andthinking about all those events and possibly indulging for like two seconds imagining meeting up with slick again and having genuine fun but he quickly stops thinking of thisbecause he's too self aware and gets embarrassed. and it's just like so dark and dismal and slowly zooming in on his face lost in thought. then it just suddenly cuts to slick getting like idk some battle wounds on his arm bandaged up by boxcars. ANd he's laughing saying Hahaha i look just like this kid i met in the hospital. He loved cutting himself up it was so fuckin sick. what was his name again? Ehhh forget it. then it cuts back to haunted dirk

in the end for the sake of more ongoing interactions they have reunited after the hospital events so the intense psychological exploration on dirk is technically noncanon although still important to explore.

[rin-hanarin]

Learning anatomy to draw Dirk and nothing else.

[nucleoplasmic]

DAVE: it was "training" you know DAVE: but you know what it really was it was some vicious shit that was bad and sucked and i hated it DAVE: it didnt make me stronger DAVE: it did the opposite

[pumpkinofspace]

workout session+half naked boy + shitty shading

[uwmspeccoll]

TYPOGRAPHY TUESDAY: JANSON

Janson is an old-style serif typeface named for the 17th-century Dutch printer and punchcutter Anton Janson (1620–1687), but was in all probability, if not in fact, designed and cut by the Hungarian punchcutter Miklós (Nicholas) Kis (1650–1702). Several modern revivals were produced in the twentieth century, including for D. Stempel AG in Frankfurt in 1919, and Mergenthaler Linotype of New York (under typographic director C. H. Griffith) and Lanston Monotype in Philadelphia (under associate art director Sol Hess) in 1937. British Monotype released a version called Ehrhardt under the influence of Stanley Morison in 1938. In 1951, Hermann Zapf extended the Stempel fonts with 24- and 48-pt sizes, and redesigned the German Linotype Janson fonts for 6-, 8-. 9-, and 10-pt. sizes. Monotype’s version was digitized by Patricia Saunders and Robin Nicholas in 1985.

Kis traveled to Holland in 1680 specifically to learn typography and managed to secure the services of the well-known punchcutter Dirk Voskens. Kis proved to be an unusually adept student, becoming proficient in less than half the time of most apprentices. He was printing books in his own type at Amsterdam by the late 1680s (see Bible title page above), but returned to Hungary in 1690. Before returning however, he appears to have left some matrices in Leipzig where some time in the 1720s and 1730s the Ehrhardt type foundry issued specimen sheets of the types (see example above), that appear to be the origins of the typeface’s attribution to Janson. Kis's surviving matrices were eventually acquired by Stempel, which perpetuated the Janson origin and from which the 20th-century revival all began. The restoration of Kis as the font’s designer was established in research articles by Harry Carter and George Buday in the 1950s and 1970s.

The Lanston Monotype publication by Sol Hess that was issued to introduce their Janson design offers side by side comparisons with Monotype Garamond and Caslon (shown here), stating:

In both roman and italic, Janson is a trifle heavier than the other two. The characters are inclined to be narrow and closely fitted. Caslon is decidedly the lowest face of the three -- by comparison it appears to be of a smaller point size. The roman lowercase Caslon, and to a lesser extent the capitals, are rounder in form than those of Janson. Both the roman and italic of Janson are distinguished by crisp, strong features. 

It also offers a handy chart (also shown here) of “A Few Chracteristics of Monotype Janson.” The examples shown here are from:

Janson: An Authentic Revival of a Classic Book Face, adapted to the monotype by Sol Hess. Philadelphia: Lanston Monotype Machine Company, 1937.

Die Original-Janson-Antiqua: Zur Rehabilitierung des Nikolaus Kis Porträt einer Schrift 1683-1983 by Horst Heiderhoff. Neu-Isenburg: Edition Tiessen, 1983.

Anatomy of a Typeface by Alexander Lawson. Boston: Godine, 1990.

View our other Typography Tuesday posts.

[worldwidedino]

Screw it, here’s that extra scene I was talking about. I have a title for it, but it’s technically counts as open air spoilers, and that ain’t allowed on this blog. Speaking of spoilers, this fic/fan scene has major spoilers for Owlboy, so look below the cut at your own risk. It also starts with a canon scene for context because I love my context.

Plot twist, here’s the title

I Guess Having Friends isn’t so Bad After All

Sparks were flying. The sounds of malfunctioning electronics filled the room of the pirates’ repaired flagship.

“It... It hurts... It hurts really bad... Alphonse... You abandoned us. You abandoned me. How... How could you...”

The mask on the robot shattered and slid off his face, leaving a bundle of severed, uneven wires where a face was supposed to be.

The other robot stood in shocked silence. He did this to his former comrade, he was the one who caused him this pain. The former pirate understood long before this that the scene would happen eventually, his ex-comrade was the biggest obstacle standing between his small group of social outcasts and the scourge of the Skies, the pirate captain Molstrom. But why did he have to say these things?

The dying robot chuckled, and barely managing to mutter, “I guess... Having a friend... Wasn’t so bad... After all.”

And in a blinding flash of light, he was gone. Dirk was dead. In the light, what would be the lifeless husk had disappeared.

The rest of the second Dreadnaught fiasco was a blur for Alphonse. He could end up remembering the team’s fight with Dirk and confronting Molstrom and Geddy rejoining the team in Molstrom’s quarters and saving them after storming off hours earlier because they let the self-proclaimed “world’s greatest spider”, Twig, on to their team. But he never could remember the few minutes between those events, no matter how hard he tried. He would later end up realizing the trauma of seeing one of his closest friends in the last couple of centuries dying right in front of him could and would, do that to him.

After Geddy saved the team from Molstrom’s rage, Otus had been flung out of the hole in the ship’s side caused by one of the smaller ships the human mechanic piloted. Otus landed in the arms of another owl around the same age as him named Solus.

Solus put the unconscious owl softly in the snow and said, “...Stay safe, Otus. But please don’t follow me. It’s safer if I go alone. I don’t know what’ll happen up there”.

As Solus finished talking to the unconscious owl Alphonse had run up behind the two young owls.

“Master Otus?” he asks, “Who goes there? Please tell me you’re alright.”

Solus quickly flies off without saying a word, worrying that the ex-pirate would recognize him. He heard about Alphonse and his betrayal to the pirates and halfway respected him for it. He would never be able to do it. Solus always thought of himself as too much of a coward.

“Stay safe, Otus,” Solus said to himself once he thought he was far enough away, “I hope I get to see you again once this is finished. Alphonse will take good care of you in the meantime.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alphonse picked up Otus’ unconscious body and started towards Geddy and Twig. It would be a long and difficult journey back down to Vellie since Otus was the only one with the ability of flight because of his owl cloak. Twig had his webbing to get himself places quickly, but Alphonse didn’t want to bring it up if anyone asked how to get back. He didn’t want to put the burden of mobility on Twig. Twig was still so young, Alphonse thought, 19 maybe 20 at the very oldest. Still nowhere near as young as Otus, who was no older than 13. Otus had so much stress put onto him for being such a young boy.

It was just then a little voice popped into Alphonse’s head. That voice took over all of his thoughts. “What would happen if you killed Molstrom?”, it whispered, “or maybe Asio? He’s no good for Otus, what would happen if you were to kill him?”

“Hey, Alphonse! You alright? Did you find Otus?” Geddy called.

Alphonse had just released he stopped; he quickly shook his head to try and snap himself out of his thoughts, and called back to Geddy, “Everything is fine, Master Geddy! Otus is unconscious, but he’s still alive. We should bring him back to Vellie so he can recover safely.”

Alphonse eventually caught up to Geddy and Twig. They were walking slow so it would be quicker for him to catch up since it was a long walk.

To break the silence Twig started talking. He said, “Why you look so down Alphonse? Dirk was a chronic butthole. Not saying he deserved it, but he definitely ha-”

“-Twig, please.” Alphonse begged, “You didn’t know Dirk for as long as I did. I was prepared to fight him, but not for what happened afterward.”

“Alphonse!” Geddy gasped, “What did happen exactly? You never interrupted someone like that before. Even during our first time on the Dreadnaught, you didn’t interrupt my premature celebration. And that would’ve saved people’s lives.”

“Not now, Master Geddy. I will explain it when we get back to Vellie, ” Alphonse sighed.

The rest of the walk back to Vellie was dead silent. Geddy and Twig were still in shock at Alphonse lashing out at Twig, and Alphonse was focused on not sobbing in front of his teammates.

He loved Dirk, not in a romantic way, by no means did Alphonse love, Dirk, romantically. It was purely a platonic relationship between those two. And if he knew of a way to recover any part of Dirk he could, but everything that was left of him disappeared in that flash of light. He didn't even know what would have been recoverable. He had scorched Dirk with his musket and his internal mechanics were fried by the shocks he had insured every time Alphonse had hit him. Alphonse didn't even know where to begin on understanding the anatomy of the Ancient Owls’ more specialty automatons that weren’t himself.

“I guess having a friend wasn't so bad after all…”

Dirk’s final words to Alphonse kept ringing in his head, tempting the tears out of his eyes. But he kept fighting to keep the tears in. Alphonse had always seen himself as the emotional support of the team, if he were to cry, to show some emotional weakness now, who would they trust?

How was Alphonse even supposed to know if Dirk wasn't sticking it to him for betraying the pirates one last time? You could never tell with someone like Dirk. He was hurt by Alphonse’s actions, which was painfully obvious to him but calling Alphonse his friend after going on about how friends were for the weak...

Alphonse sighed and lightly pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes. Fighting all the tears was taking a lot of energy from him. His breath was getting shakey, and he began slightly shaking himself. Don't cry, Alphonse, he thought. You can't cry in front of them. Whatever happens, do not cry.

“You cold, Alphonse? Hurry up and you’ll get warm sooner!” Twig giggled.

Alphonse started to walk a little quicker after that. He would’ve said something, but he was afraid the shakiness of his breath would come out while he was speaking. He also didn’t want to tell them he has been constantly on the verge of tears the entire time.

Once back in Vellie, the gang of heroes quickly snuck Otus into his bed to try and avoid any suspicion of a pirate walking around the village. After the Battle for Advent, the people of Vellie were weary towards all pirates, current or not. While taking stops in Vellie, Alphonse normally just laid low in Otus’ house, it was safest there for him.

Alphonse sighed and started sadly, “I guess it’s time for that explanation I promised Master Geddy. We went to Twig’s family home after you left. There was a pirate occupation of Mesos, and Twig’s family was near the pirate’s base. After learning that we decided to drive out the pirates by entering the repaired Dreadnaught. We snuck around the best we could. That culminated in fighting Dirk and, and...And we couldn’t save him. I tried to reason with him. I didn’t want to fight him. We had no choice. And now Dirk is dead...”Alphone’s breathing became heavy and began to shake.

“You’re allowed to cry if you need to, Alphonse,” Twig said.

Geddy then added, “God knows the shit you’ve been through. You've always been here for us, it's about time we’re here for you, man.”

And with the permission to cry in front of his friends, Alphonse finally stopped fighting the tears in his eyes. He had never had the permission to cry before, so these tears were not only for Dirk but for every time he needed to cry and wasn't allowed to. Geddy and Twig saw how hard he was crying and hugged him. And if Otus was awake, he would be hugging Alphonse too.

“Thank you,” Alphonse managed to get out between tears and heavy, shaking breaths, “I appreciate you’re understanding. I-I guess having friends isn’t so bad after all.”

“No problem, man. Take however long you need.” Geddy whispered, “We’ll be here for as long as you need.”

[for-a-muse-of-fire]

chivalry fell on its sword

the wench and the witcher

“chivalry fell on its sword”

Fandom: The Witcher (2019)

Paring: Geralt of Rivia x Fem!POC Reader

Summary: Geralt witnesses one of the many perils involved in your profession. It rattles him enough to try and do something about it.

Warnings: Mentions of blood and violence. Geralt and reader continue to be foul-mouthed little darlings.

A/N: Holy crap, guys, I wrote something that wasn’t smut. “You know what that is? Growth.” Full disclosure, there is no real, actual plan for where I’m going with this series, thing. I’m just here to write shit.

@coconutxraikage​ ; @pantrashtic​ ; @kingniazx​ ; @onyour-right​

“Geralt, is this really necessary?”

“Yes.”

You eye the dirk in your hand. “I cook with these, I don’t fight with them - I’ll fucking stab myself.”

“And that’s why we’re here – so I can show you how not to fucking stab yourself.”

You glare at him. ‘Here’ happens to be the courtyard behind your tavern. The witcher has been with you for three days, warming your bed and keeping you company – even your regulars have started to get used to him. Well, mostly. At the very least, they’ve graduated from ‘outright hostility’ to ‘passive distrust’.

Baby steps.

Your only problem with Geralt’s extended visitation is the fact that he’s become annoyingly protective. He mostly keeps out of the way, doesn’t expect you to change anything about your daily routine to suit him, but having a very large, somewhat menacing companion at your back takes some getting used to. No, you’re not exactly what most people would term as ‘threatening’, but you’ve managed the damn place for near-on five years. Belligerent drunks are simply a hazard of the job. You have a very particular way of managing people when they get out of hand at your establishment, and while it does work – most of the time, kind of – the previous evening was a wholly different story.

_-_-_-_-_-_

“I think you need to leave, friend!“

How the bastard had managed to get this drunk on your watch was beyond you. You were going to have a talk with the staff about over-serving. Right now, you’re more about getting the sod’s hands off the barmaid – he’s ignoring you in favor of trying to drag the poor girl into his lap. “Hey,” you bark again. “I’m talking to you – “

Your hand grabs his shoulder and yanks. The girl he’s pawing manages to worm free as the drunk reels about with a shout of indignation, “Get yer fuckin’ hands off me, daft bitch!”

You have to laugh at that, “I may be a daft bitch, but I’m the one who’s name is on the lease here. You’re harassing my waitstaff, now get the fuck out.”

The bastard scoffs at you and has the unmitigated gall to turn his back on you; you see red. Somewhere behind you, you here the rumble of your name – Geralt, trying to tell you to stand down. You ignore him, obviously, because who’s going to take you seriously if you can’t deal with one drunken shithead? With an irritated growl, you grab said shithead by the back of the collar.

“That’s it – “

“Get off, you fucking slut!”

CRACK. Your vision flashes white for a second, like a firecracker has gone off next to your face. The impact of the back of the drunk’s hand sends you stumbling into the nearest table, bell thoroughly rung. You manage to catch the end of the table before you go spinning to the floor.

Geralt shouts your name. Behind you, your assailant gloats, “Come on, girlie. More where that came from.”

There’s blood in your mouth. You spit, grimace, and grab the nearest heavy object you can find; one of your solid clay pitchers.

It’s makes a satisfying “thunk” when it cracks the drunk across the face.

“Fuck you, prick,” you gasp.

_-_-_-_-_-_

 You’d woken up this morning with an impressive shiner, but that son of a bitch had been dragged off with a shattered jaw, according to the gossip. By your standards, everything had been taken care of, but Geralt didn’t seem to be of the same mind. He’d grumbled something about men and fragile egos - ‘reprisals’, blah blah blah- then hurried you through breakfast, and promptly dragged you out of doors.

So, here you were. Staring at a knife. “Geralt, come on – “

“No, you need to be able to protect yourself – “

“ – I’ve managed just fine for most of my life, thank you very much – “

“You have a black eye – “

“ – and I caved that other guy’s face in!”

“That was a lucky shot and you know it!”

You startle so violently that you almost drop the blade on your foot; you don’t think Geralt’s every actually shouted at you before. He’s glaring at you while a muscle in his jaw ticks and you feel you’re your own temper start to bubble – he can’t just yell at you, and you’ve a mind to rip him a new asshole, because fuck him your goddamn face hurts and you don’t have time for this, but then he’s marching up to you and you give a small grunt of surprise when he grabs you by the shoulders.

“You can’t…” He growls, obviously frustrated, before he continues. “You can’t just hope for the best, sweetheart. You’re tough, and smart, I’ll give you that much, but if someone bigger comes along and decides you’ve got something they want…”

He trails off, lets you go, and paces away. You open your mouth to argue, but then he turns and pins you with those pretty golden eyes – oh.

Oh.

He’s worried.

It’s… unexpected? Yes, that’s the word.

But not unwelcome.

You drop Geralt’s gaze and look at the thin blade in your hand. It’s quite nice, actually – small and light enough to palm against your wrist. Hell, you could probably slide it down the front of your dress, if you ever needed to.

“… So I don’t just jab them with the pointy end?” you finally ask with a weak smile.

The witcher blinks, narrows his eyes, and finally exhales on a chuckle. You tamp down on your smile and do your best to keep your sarcasm in check with he begins instruction. He helps you find the balance point on the dirk, shows you how to hold it underhand, then overhand, followed by a breakdown of how to easily switch your grip.

Next is vital points on human anatomy. You learn that the fastest way to drop a man is to stab him through the neck and let him bleed to death. Stabbing for the heart his more difficult; if your blade glances off a rib, it can get stuck. Same thing with the kidneys in the back – hard to get to, but effective if you can manage it. Geralt shows you on his own torso. You stand in front of him while he guides your hand, keeping the sharp point of the dagger tucked to your wrist and away from his vital parts.

“Aim for the middle, if worse comes to worse,” Geralt tells you. “Stab the bastard and get the fuck out of there – he’s not going to be moving very quickly with a blade in his gut.”

With that, he draws a small-ish knife from his boot and moves to stand beside you. He slowly walks you through defensive stances, watching you like a hawk to correct anything he sees as a potential opening. Each movement is numbered and he has you drill through each one, first in order, and then in random patterns of his choosing. You only realize how long you’ve been at it when your arms start to ache. Tending bar can be hard work, but this is a different sort of practice – you’re a little winded, and a little sweaty, but you grin and shake your head when Geralt asks if you want to stop.

“No,” you tell him. “No, I think I’m getting it. Give me more.”

There’s a fierce kind of pride behind his eyes when he nods. Flipping the grip on his blade, he turns to face you and raises an eyebrow. He attacks with slow, even movements and you counter just as slowly. It’s like dancing. When you stumble or misstep, he stops, and the dance begins again.

You only make it through two sequences, at first, but then it’s three.

Then four.

Then five.

And then you realize that Geralt hasn’t stopped to correct your form in some time. He’s gained speed, as well, and you’re able to keep up. You find yourself watching not just the glint of his blade in the sunlight, but the tension and flexion of his arm, or the way he twists at the waist – all of it gives you a clue as to where he might go next. The dance flows back and forth over the cobblestone courtyard, accompanied by the whispering of your blades when then slide together and deflect. Geralt’s smooth, flowing steps push you back towards a wall, but you find an opening, spinning under his arm and back to the center of the courtyard. The witcher is hot on your heels, sweeping a wide arch that you duck under.

Then Geralt missteps. You swipe forward without thinking and leave a thin line of blood on his forearm. He swears and hops back.

Shit – you drop your blade immediately, let it clatter onto the stones below. “Geralt,” you gasp. “Fuck it, I’m sor – hmph!”

Geralt sweeps you up, careful of his unsheathed weapon, and kisses you quite thoroughly. You’re startled for a moment, but it doesn’t take long for you to relax; you melt into his touch and wind an arm around his neck. When he finally draws back, you’re more than a little breathless, and it’s not just from the training.

“Good,” he murmurs. Honey-gold eyes stare down at you, and he lifts one hand to gently push your sweaty curls away from your face. “You did good, sweetheart.”

You’re only a little sorry when he lets you go and picks up your knife, holding it handle-out for you to take. “Find a place to keep that,” he says lowly. “Your bodice, your boot, your garter – doesn’t matter, long you can reach it without fumbling. Understood?”

You smirk. “Understood,” you confirm.

Geralt gives you one of his almost-smiles, offers you one more brief kiss, and turns back for the tavern. “Just think how good you’ll get when we have you working at this every day,” he calls over his shoulder.

You blanche. Every…

Shit. “Son of a bitch,” you mutter as you follow the witcher inside.

[thecleverdame]

Sleepy Hollow - Chapter Five

Series Master List

Pairings: Sam x Reader, mentions of Dean x Jo

Summary: In 1799, specialized police constables Sam and Dean Winchester are sent from New York City to a small town called Sleepy Hollow to investigate a series of murders. Approached by the town’s council, the Winchesters discover the local residents believe that the murders are the work of a deadly Hessian horseman whose head has been mysteriously chopped off. With help from the beautiful Y/N Van Tassel, Sam Winchester’s investigation takes him further through the dark wood where more murders have been occurring. What Sam does not realize is that the mysterious Horseman is being controlled by someone in a sinister plot to kill the most suitable men in the village.

Warnings: Canon-level violence, murder, smut, horror, gore and a little fluff for good measure.

Words: 40k

Beta:  ilikaicalie

This series is completed. You can read it on my Patreon for a monthly pledge of 2.50. This pledge includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content.  >> CLICK HERE <<

-

Cemetery

The lid of a muddy coffin is wrenched open, containing a headless corpse. The coffin is on the ground next to the hole marked by the headstone of Peter Van Garrett.

Killian holds a lantern and a spade. Sam, holding a handkerchief to his face, peers into the open coffin. Sam is in shirtsleeves and sweating holding a shovel. Young Masbath is watching uneasily. This is why Dean insisted Young Masbath would need a strong stomach as he gags, nearly vomiting. At Sam's nod, Killian replaces the lid. Killian has two men with him. There are two more coffins and two more piles of dirt, one coffin for Dirk Van Garrett and one for Widow Winship. Sam moves to the second coffin. It contains a headless corpse. Just the one. Sam nods, and the lid is replaced. The third coffin, the Widow's, is opened by one of the men. Sam takes a lantern and looks expectantly as the lid comes off. The Widow's headless corpse is alone in the coffin. Sam pauses as the lid is about to be replaced, he stops it. “Wait,” he holds out his hand, peering closer. Sam takes out a small penknife and cuts through the shroud, revealing her naked belly, dead grey flesh.

There’s one thought reeling through his head as he looks at the sword stab through the decaying stomach. Was she pregnant? There’s no way for him to tell, at least not out here in the muck.

Suddenly there is a screech, which seems to come from the corpse. Every man in attendance, including Sam, bolt upright.

“There,” Sam points. Off in the distance, there’s a corporeal dark figure holding a swinging lantern. For a moment it appears as if a ghost is approaching, only to reveal the Reverend Steenwyk who is stomping toward them in the downpour, shrieking in outrage.

“Sacrilege! Sacrilege!” the Reverend shrieks, raising his free hand into the air. Sam sighs, shaking his head. “ Science! Science! Reverend Steenwyck. Someone in Sleepy Hollow is using the Horseman story for his own murderous purpose, and I intend to dig it out.” Steenwyck froths, looking terrified at Sam’s declaration and backs off.

Doctor’s Residence - Medical Room Sam and Killian, helped by Young Masbath carry the Widow's muddy coffin inside. Doctor Lancaster watches in horror, sweating profusely, unsettled. “This is most irregular, Constable.” The doctor holds a handkerchief to his mouth. “I should hope so. But in this case, necessary” Sam watches as the coffin is set on a table in the middle of the room.

Sam takes a rolled velvet cloth from his satchel, unrolling it to reveal surgical instruments, some particularly strange, such as modified rib spreaders and curved clamps. Sam rolls up his sleeves. “I will need to operate.” “Operate?” Doctor Lancaster is white as a sheet. “She's dead!” Dean chuckles, offering, “when he says operate, he means, of course, he'll need the operating table. Lay her out, please.” Dean turns to Young Masbath. “Go on, nothing to be afraid of.”

When Killian and Young Masbath lay out the corpse, Sam opens their father’s journal, flipping through the pages as he studies the sketches in the ledger.

“There is a common thread between these victims.” Sam surmises, his finger trailing down the page.

“And what’s that?” Lancaster inches forward.

“Well,” Sam looks up his brother. “We don’t know yet. That’s why we’re here. Once we find the common thread the motive will reveal itself.” Dean leans in to watch Sam examine the corpse as Masbath retreats to the corner, ill at ease.   “Once more, the neck wound is cauterized. The sword thrust to the stomach, the same as the others. But to what purpose?” Sam glances to Dean, gingerly feeling the corpse's stomach. The doctor watches, riveted, and Dean makes a note. His body language is telling, the old man knows something he hasn’t divulged.

“To what is your purpose, is the question,” Lancaster quips.

“What manner of instruments are those?” Lancaster peers closer.

“Some of my own design.” Clearing his throat, Sam raises a brow. He sorts through the instruments, looking to the corpse and conferring with Dean.

“You’ll need to open her up, no way around it.” Dean looks toward the boy who’s nearly gagging at the mention of such a horror. “We’ll have to ask you all to step outside. Thank you for your help, but if you do not mind my brother needs his concentration. It suffers when he’s observed.”

The men clear out and Sam pulls out a book of human anatomy from his bag, open to a pre-marked page. Picking up a scalpel he looks to Dean and they exchange a look of now or never as he cuts into the widow’s belly. - Doctor Lancaster is waiting outside, but he’s been joined by a crowd of men including Reverend Steenwyck and Notary Hardenbrook. They’re talking amongst themselves, appalled and aghast that the Constables would unearth a grave. The door opens and the Winchesters step out, wiping at blood covered clothes. All attention is on them and Dean turns to Sam.

“We’ve attracted an audience brother.”

“We have finished our examination,” Sam addresses the crowd.

“What in God’s holy name have you done?” Steenwyck is horrified. He points from Magistrate Philipse to the constables. “You are the word of law here! Put them in irons!” Philipse and the Winchesters exchange a look as Philipse nips from his flask. “And what did you find out, Constables?”

“We can confirm that there were not four victims but five. The Widow Winship was with child.” Sam nods, looking from man to man, watching for any reactions as the crowd murmurs.

“What of it?” Doctor Lancaster is visibly upset. “She should have been left to make her peace with God and not cut to bits by the Constabulary!”

“We don’t like it any more than you. But it was necessary.” Dean holds up both hands in a sign of peace. “The sword was thrust into the womb and no farther. A symbolic murder. It would appear we are dealing with a madman.”

Covered Bridge - Later That Night

Sam and Dean ride slowly beside each other across the covered bridge. The pale moon casts just enough light to illuminate the way. They’re lost in conversation as the clopping of hoofbeats is heard on the bridge behind them.

The brothers look at each other, both pulling their pistols. The hoofbeats stop, there’s silence as they look around, listening to the gentle chirp of crickets. “Is someone there?” Sam shouts, voice commanding. He learned a long time ago to never display fear, even when he feels it in his very bones.

“This place is getting under our skin,” Dean chuckles, tucking his gun into the waist of his trousers.

“I refuse to fall victim to their hysteria.”

“They’re scared,” Dean shrugs as they trot on. “Scared and uneducated.”

“There’s a healthy fear of the unknown but they take it beyond reason.”

“Careful, you sound like a snob. You don’t want to offend Miss Van Tassel with your ravings of logic and science.”

“Why would you think I am concerned about her opinion?” Sam snaps to attention in a vain attempt to conceal his interest. It’s no use, Dean knows, he always does.

“Because you sweat every time we’re near her,” Dean quips and Sam’s grateful for the darkness so his brother can’t see the blush in his cheeks. “We could stay, you know. We’ll put this Horseman business to rest and then there’s no reason we can’t linger for a few more days. I could enjoy the countryside, go hunting and you could enjoy...other things.”

“Perhaps.” Sam grins, “You know, even the lovely Miss Van Tassel believes in magic. My God, this place is a hotbed for delirium-”

From behind there is the clear sound of a horse snorting and the hoofbeats resume. Sam and Dean stop in their tracks, turning to look back. A figure appears, a figure on horseback slowly stepping out of the darkness of the bridge.

“Who are you?” Sam calls.

“Reveal yourself!” Dean shouts, raising his gun.

The horsebound figure comes into the moonlight, revealing a gargantuan black horse, smoke seemingly rising from its nostrils. On the beast’s back is a cloaked figure, headless.

“Oh my God,” Sam breathes slowly, unable to believe what his eyes can see.

“He’s real,” Dean whispers, looking from the figure to Sam. “Ride!”

They take off, hooves galloping as fast as the horses are able to carry them with the figure in pursuit. Both men whip the reigns faster and faster, but the horseman also picks up speed.   “The forest,” Sam shouts, desperate to get off the main road.

The headless figure lets out a hellish cry of rage as the Winchesters look over their shoulders, tree limbs whipping their arms and legs are they ride through the thick forest.

Before Sam knows what’s happening a horrible face with flaming eyes and mouth is rushing toward him, hitting him square in the face. The impact knocks him clean from the horse, sends him sprawling to the ground in an explosion of ash and cinders.

“Sam!” Dean calls from somewhere behind him as he manages to get to his feet, the pounding of hooves all around him as several horses surround him. Sam looks down at the remnants of the jack-o-lantern and the smoldering trail. Suddenly the horseman is in front of him, Sam reaches for his pistol but it’s been lost in the fall. As he nears the figure throws off his cloak, revealing it as a disguise.

It’s Brom.

Several other men ride up, cackling to one another.  Brom also laughs, but when he looks back, the smile leaves his face. He takes grim satisfaction in what he's done. Sam's face is haunted, running with the sweat of fear, shaking from the experience. He’s vaguely aware of blood running down the side of his face. “Sam! Sam!” A faint, familiar voice calls to him as his eyes roll back into his head and the world goes black.

Sam is standing in the middle of a field just outside a quaint cottage.

“Sam! Sam!” A beautiful woman appears in the doorway, holding out her arms. She looks like you as Sam first saw you, blindfolded. A young boy, no more than seven, runs toward her with a bunch of wildflowers.

Suddenly he’s in his childhood kitchen.

The blindfolded woman is playing the Pickety Witch Game with the young boy he now recognizes as himself. Young Sam is laughing, then scared as she grabs the air looking for him. He’s holding the wildflowers as she seizes him, kissing his cheeks as she takes off her blindfold. It’s not you, it’s his mother with her kind, lovely face.

Young Sam gives her the flowers and she places several in her hair, laughing and telling him how beautiful they are. She throws the remaining flowers on the fire, crouching and beckoning for him to come closer.

As the flowers burn they give off smoke fumes which his mother inhales like perfume, closing her eyes in trance. He watches, fascinated as she picks up a twig and starts drawing pictures in the dirt on the floor, strange designs in the layers of ash in front of the hearthstone. Suddenly Sam turns his head to the door, which is opening, strange though because no one is entering. Then he sees at floor level the family cat has come through the door. A black cat with a white paw.

Mary seems to be awakened by this, just in time as his father, John - a grim parson all in black, enters. The boy looks up, frightened and then Sam blinks and he’s back in his childhood bedroom. The black cat is on his bed, watching Mary entertain young Sam, who’s tucked into bed, with a bird-in-a-cage spinning disc toy. He’s amazed and overwhelmingly happy watching his mother spin the toy. There’s a bright flash of lightning and a mighty boom, the force of the storm sends the window pane flying open into the wall. The black cat leaps off the bed in the flashing light and the toy drops to the bed.

Young Sam covers his face, terrified and trembling as his mother hugs him close.

[laurasauras]

Language Barrier is a fic i wrote as a giveaway but got way carried away with, mostly because mermaids are the funnest prompt ever and i love johndirk. feels appropriate to bring it back for mermay!

in it, john is a merman and dirk is trying to communicate how much he’d like to have sex with him without being able to speak john’s language. some things are universal, though, and they make it work.

dirk overthinks a lot for a wannabe monsterfucker. luckily for us, his horniness overrides his common sense. there’s a discovery element, both of them learning how each others’ bodies work, innocent at first and then escalating. 

i had fun with mermaid anatomy and dirk’s neediness. john’s a little shit, because he is exactly that in every universe.

[lord-nichron]

Kris Pearn Storyboard class lesson 5

Characters! The people that inhabit our stories. The people that take us on a journey, show us their feelings and generally do stuff to keep to the story moving.

This lesson Kris discussed how best to write and board characters that an audience cares about. He goes through some basic character attributes and how they fit in a typical story structure. Though he mostly discussed ‘The Hero’s Journey’ as outlined by Joseph Campbell in ‘The Hero with a Thousand Faces”.

That book is a Hollywood staple but personally I find this structure a little too limiting and predictable. If you want more alternatives I suggest checking out John Truby’s ‘The Anatomy of Story‘ – it contains great analyses of lots of famous movies and gives you the tools to create a structure that suits the story you want to tell.

Anyhoo, Kris goes on to show the several ways we can position the camera on our character to emphasize their mood.

one of Kris’ examples on how to shoot your characters. in the first the character is looming and feels powerful and in the second the character is dwarfed and feels vulnerable

The Assignment

So for this lesson the assignment was to write and board a short sequence to introduce a character. It didn’t need to be a full story, just a sequence that let the audience know who this character is and what their motivations are.

I have to admit I really struggled with this at first. What kind of character should I introduce?

I was watching a lot of Clint Eastwood movies at the time so at first i wanted to write a hard boiled character about to kick some butt. But everything I came up with was something I had actually seen before.

For a while I toyed with the idea of creating an unflappable British officer type that would calmly walk around a battlefield giving orders while the bullets whiz about him and everybody else is ducking for cover.

“steady on old chap”

But I couldn’t quite flesh it out beyond a single scene and I wanted include some ‘inciting incident’ that would show how the character would respond when challenged. Since my imagined officer wouldn’t alter his behavior in any way (at least not on the battlefield) that meant he was out.

I then thought of a plucky dwarf that would spring into action if his village was in danger.

Better. I could imagine him friendly in his day to day life but standing firm when his friends and family were in danger.

But then I thought: what if the village defender was a mother? To me that makes it more powerful. The two sides of her character as loving mother mother and fierce protector would both contrast and enhance each other!

After that I quickly sketched out the cottage where she lives and even went so far as to sculpt a bust of her head in Sculptris.

You can check it out it 3d on sketchfab

Using that bust as reference really helped me draw this character from multiple angles. But I’ve since tried it with other characters and it didn’t work so well. I think it has something to do with how solid the initial design is but I will have to investigate further.

After I finished the first draft of the sequence I had a feedback session with my mentor Dirk van Dulmen.

He had a lot say! I got tons of feedback on screen direction and character focus. His notes were of great help, sometimes he would annotate existing boards:

And sometimes he would suggest entirely new shots that would work better with the story:

That was just before Christmas last year and right after that I had an offer to work on a student film so I put the revisions for this sequence aside. I can’t show you that other sequence right now but I’m glad to report it went a lot better than this one! The director was very pleased and even Dirk had very little points of improvements. I can’t tell you how happy I was to have my first client gig go so well!

But after I was done with that I returned to this sequence to implement Dirk notes and make it work better. It was slightly odd returning to this sequence after having learned so much on the student film. I fixed most of the really bad mistakes but a lot of it couldn’t get to my current standard without a complete redo. But at least I still like the basic premise and it comes across ok. But I look forward to the next one, it’ll be an action sequence and I have lots of new skills I can’t wait to unleash on that one!

In the meantime here’s assignment 5:

[bladekindeyewear]

Boots reads Homestuck Epilogue(s) Part 5 - Meat Page 7

==>

Okay, time for Rose and Dirk to talk delicious politics or something.

Heh, customary show-end riots.

Rose, stop causing all of us undue alarm.

Ascending? Is she going to fade out into a concept or something???

Oh shit, Dirk’s doing something similar.  Some sort of inevitability once God-Tier is reached or some such.

Dirk has a solution to the problem in the works.  That’s... well, Rose already cautioned that that could be ominous.  I hope it doesn’t involve decapitation.  Or robot bodies, or turning her into an omniscient cueball or something.

==>

Okay, stage play time.  I can see a weird-seeming text color choice for Caliborn down below, hm.  Time to read down to there...

Ah, the classic finale-callback thumbs down.  Nice.

...yeah, reinforcing the point he was trying to make a little less explicitly with his earlier finale of Homestuck that Lord English had really just, sort of, trapped them in this narrative that their ultimate reward would be to escape, realizing it never really mattered too much compared to their own long lives and happiness or something.

==>

Epilogue TWO??????  D:

Okay now it’s, like, Andrew commenting isn’t it.

Oh shit, it DOES suck them up and trap them? Huh. That explains how Jade was dealt with, I’d forgotten. Also because it was one of the huge goddamn unanswered fucking hugepoints that made it seem like a slap in the face when we were told it didn’t matter and-- yeah okay let me just keep reading.

Huh, broken glasses.

And, phew; the ages it takes is from an OUTSIDE perspective.  Let’s see what it is from an inside perspective...

==>

Jaaaane!!! :D

Okay let’s read about Janey.

Mhmm, that’s not that surprising... Dirk knew that Karkat was going to run against Jane, but Jane didn’t, even though Dirk was ostensibly “working” for her.  There’s definitely a plan here.  Maybe it involves Jane and Karkat smooching publicly at the end.  ...No, that’s just my wishful imagination talking, isn’t it.

Oh my god she’s screaming into a pillow at hearing she has competition.  That’s adorable.

YES, JANE.  UNDERESTIMATE KARKAT.  YOU WILL FALL IN LOVE WITH HIM LIKE EVERYONE ELSE (though probably platonically).  It does upset me that they’ve taken this long to really get acquainted, though; I’ve argued for years that their personalities are naturally compatible as the straight men for all their friends’ bullshit.

In fact, Jane is pretty sure that Karkat Vantas would probably literally burst into flame if too many people happened to look at him at the same time, like a vampire walking out into the sun.

Yes, but he’d get over it.  And be a flaming president or something.

In fact, Jane cannot remember a single conversation she’s ever had with him that wasn’t about the economy. She thinks back to one time at John’s eighteenth birthday when Dave engaged her in a rigorous and rather one-sided debate about deregulation and the failure of “neoliberal austerity measures” until Karkat had to come over and put his hands over his roommate’s mouth to make him stop talking.

Oh my FUCKING god, it’s true.  Dave’s appropriately liberal in the modern, Krugman-esque, statistically grounded way.  Karkat has my vote already.

She’d be happy to accept a graceful, temporary defeat and let Karkat play president for a couple of years. After all, unlike her, he was not immortal.

Hey fuck you.  Also, why the FUCK haven’t they used one of the myriad likely ways to extend Karkat’s lifespan basically indefinitely yet???  Heck, JANE could probably do it with Life powers if she crawled back out of her own butt!  We already know the Condesce could extend other trolls’ lifespans with weird troll powers so Life powers are almost certainly enough to suffice.  >:(

Ohhh, so maybe Jane is just, like... slightly traumatized by trolls? And thus a little tiny bit predisposed against trusting them cause of the Condesce? :(

Interesting how she views her past reliance on / pursuance of Jake as something that made her “weak” specifically.

Okay, I’m getting a slightly uncomfortable vibe that Jane is willing to almost play at seduction with Jake falsely to get his endorsement on--

And she’s willing to do more than that, too.

Okay FUCK, JANE.  GET YOURSELF UNDER CONTROL.  I’m starting to believe the shittalking the others have given about you!  You’d better shape up by the end of this epilogue or what have you.

==>

Okay, trapped John can hear the other three through the walls of their prison or something.

Conversation and musings, conversation and musings.....

Wait, Jade LIVES with Dave and Karkat in that SAME HOUSE and they didn’t even mention it??!??  What is even up with their thing.

Heh, John’s thinking he really could have used a nice kismesis riling him up to better himself.  That’s what they’re for, really.

There there, John.

==>

Oh my fucking GOD, Jane rolls with supply side economics???  TAKE.  HER.  DOWN.

And Jade is just... here?  Huh.

Yeah they DEFS weren’t listening.

JADE: especially when JADE: there are much better things we could all be doing with our mouths.....

HOLY SHIT.  HOLY SHIT.  JADE IS SO INTO EITHER OF THEM THAT THEY CAN’T TAKE IT, CAN THEY.  THAT’S FUCKING AMAZING OH MY GOD

Her tail swishes from side to side

SINCE WHEN DOES SHE HAVE A FUCKING TAIL HOW IS THAT SUDDENLY CANON

I’M NOT MAD IM JUST SURPRISED

Wasn’t that something that the ask-responses from Andrew said she canonically DIDN’T have or what the fuck

Since I guess it wasn’t confirmed IN CANON he just decided he liked it enough to offer it here or???? I DON’T KNOW????

Wow why am I all worked up by this all of a sudden.  It’s just transferring from her earlier line isn’t it.

three of her bras

Okay no nevermind Andrew’s just fucking with us.

...Even though this can probably still be considered canon.  Which only makes how he’s fucking with us work even better, really.  I mean, why WOULDN’T he lob this at us on the ten year anniversary and watch us squirm, really.  There’s no incentive not to.

--oh wait wait never mind reading further these are just bras from different days she threw over the couch.  PHEW.  I thought for a second that we were dealing with dog anatomy stuff that would REQUIRE multiple bras on her.  Jesus.  I wonder if Andrew intentionally phrased things so some people would think that for a minute.

JADE: also you know trolls dont actually have two dicks dave thats an offensive stereotype

Pffffff

Wait, is it that Dave and Karkat’s relationship isn’t quite full-hearts sexual and Jade is incessantly shipping them?? :O

because that’d be hilarious too??  --*reads*

YESSSS JADE BEING SUPER STAT WHIZ WITH HER SUPER PARTOMNIDOG SPACE BRAIN YES

The thing about Jade Harley is that she’s not as good at personal things as she is at other things. Like science, or mastering fraymotifs, or kissing, the last of which she has definitely put a lot of levels into over the past few years because, well, what else are you supposed to do with immortal godhood once you hit the age where the dog hormones start kicking into overdrive? 

f uck

dog hormones

i’m wheezing

Alright, Jade’s springing a thorough relationship talk on them.  That’s cool.  Also she’s throwing statistics in there and I LOVE that now that Jade is older we’re reinforcing just how scary science smart she is, I can’t wait to see other people roleplaying her properly because of it too.

...Yeah Jade would definitely date a chess couple

Jade sighs and crawls closer. She takes one of Karkat’s hands in hers.

JADE: i think wed all work good together

AAAAAAAA :D :D :D

JADE: and i think weve been dancing around that for years now JADE: i wanna try dating for real KARKAT: HAVE YOU EVER CONSIDERED KARKAT: SORRY IF WHAT I’M ABOUT TO SAY TOTALLY BLOWS YOUR MIND KARKAT: DATING A SINGLE PERSON, FOR MORE THAN HALF A SWEEP, FOR REASONS OTHER THAN INITIATING THE CONCUPISCENT EXCHANGE OF FLUIDS?

PFFFFFFFFFFFFF OH MY FUCKING GOD THIS IS PERFECT

Jade being

literally the thirstiest person in this ENTIRE CAST OF CHARACTERS

to the point that everyone’s calling her out on it

in something that’s virtually goddamn canon

holy fucking shit I love everything.  I love life.  Living in a universe where this hilarious shit happens is fun.

....pFFFF JADE DIDN’T KNOW OBAMA WAS REAL THIS IS AMAZING

Ooh, dueling god-tier powers for petty reasons.

OH NO DICK DRAWINGS ARE LIKELY IMMINENT

THAT OR A CHART

OR BOTH

...yeah her hair would get everywhere, wouldn’t it.

yes make fun of ship names some more

What Jade leaves in her wake is not quite the emotional scorched-earth situation that she was going for, but a few of her needles have definitely gotten under some skin. Dave and Karkat both stare after her, silently caught in their own private rationalization spirals.

So this whole time Jade’s been all “JUST KISS ALREADY” and they’ve been all “what no” and now she’s just laid it all out in the open and left them to it.  Yeah that sounds about like what would’ve happened.

Aaaand of course, since this is Dave and Karkat, they just choose to stall some more and play video games.  Jade really DOES complete this relationship with her pushing them to accept reality and stop downplaying their own feelings and self-esteem and all.  But that’s what I thought would happen BEFORE I even read any epilogue stuff so I’m biased.

==>

Pff, Vriska time.

You’ve now got two bitches of either gender at your side

Vriska, shame!  Don’t use that kind of language!!

Yep, this version of her didn’t learn her lesson and is still pretty much completely delusional.

Alright, Real Terezi™ is still flying out in the abyss trying to scoop Vriska out of this jam, cool, cool.

Flailing and spinning, screaming, not being able to see the final event or whatever-- someone save her already we know it’s gonna happen!

JOHN: Emerge from the juju.

Oh.  Well, that’s uncomfortably in line with earlier presumably-discredited theories.  About John saving Vriska from the black hole the Green Sun left in its wake and all.  :|

Yawns too wide and snaps in half?  The moment he was dreaming about?

==>

Oh hai Jake.  This really IS the perfect time to get to see some attempted-exploitative discomfort between Jane and you.  I mean that!  The narrative timing is pretty hilarious.

The sunset has turned the head offices of Crockercorp into a shimmering glass monolith—a beacon, if you will, of the future, visible for miles in every direction.

Jane probably likes to think about it that way at least.

Wow, Jane REALLY sounds like she needs to be knocked down a peg or seven.

The whole place is candlelit, and Jane is reclining on her desk, sprawled out like a lounge singer on a grand piano.

OH MY FUCKING GOD JANE STOP BEING A SLIMEBAG!!!! D: D: D:

Thank you, Jake, for coming through and tanking this.

This is not really the kind of conversation you initiate if you’re looking to extract a sexual deal out of someone. It is, however, the kind of conversation that you might have with a childhood friend who has become somewhat emotionally estranged from you.

THANK FUCKING GOD.  Jane has been saved from herself for the moment.

Okay I see a whole bunch of paragraphs of black text down below just as these two are likely coming together for a kiss.  Uh oh.

...Yep, kiss there.  And, uh...

Okay whew, most of it is Jake privately soliloquy-ing to the narrative about the circumstances leading up to this. I can deal with that.

...Oh my god he keeps thinking of Dirk while getting in close to Jane.  This is gonna blow up in his face isn’t it.

Reading on....

--Ah, yeah, he just realizes he’s more into Dirk I guess.  Ouch.  Ouch, Jane.

DIRK: Were you nice to him? JANE: Well, I... DIRK: I told you, you can’t be nice to Jake. JANE: ...

PPFffffffffff

DIRK: Why don’t you leave Jake to me?

Now ain’t that telling?

Ooh, getting down to plot business with Rose.

==>

Back to John.  I see a bit that says “Listen” there, is he going to hear Vriska screaming? Or is Terezi going to pick her up? Since, like, I mean she has the jetpack and has been searching for her longer and stuff.

Yep, big ol’ LE tantrum.  Though alt!Calliope seems at least as much at fault for the end of the universe as him, if not moreso.

Ah, right, Andrew wanted us to THINK he’d hear Vriska screaming just so he could troll us like that.  Makes more sense, anyway.

Huh, the Juju just pops away.

OW.  Down a spare Rose, just like that, huh?  Probably part of why main Rose knew what the plan was supposed to be for all this.

Ah right, can’t use your Green Sun powers here, Jade.

OW.  Another quasi-doomed side-character death.

Yep, you have to make a tough, leaderly decision and let go.  :C  --Oh crap, you saved her body.  Are you gonna put the ring there or what, I’m not sure where that’s going plotways.

Pff, the whole fight going south just due to John losing his glasses... that’s pretty funny from a perspective.

Oh huh, real ghost Tavros gets nuked.

Oh shit, Meenah’s going in!  Don’t die, I actually care about this version of you!!

--Ah, thrown out and fate unclear, that’s a bit better than clear death.

Hm, Davepeta vs English round two?  I wonder what the purpose of all of this really is, anyway, beyond just a sense that some only implied-wrapped-up things are being actually wrapped up?  This whole Meat arc?  Is Candy going to be ultimately more important to everyone, as was part of the point, or?  Huhhm.

Final Round!!

Hammer buffet!

Slight obligatory feelings allusion via hammer!

Oh no! VORE!!! D:

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < wrow you almost got vored to death

Phew, avoided

Ow, another decapitation.  There’s a killing blow and being trapped forever in a black hole for LE to look forward to, though.  Weren’t there theories about him being trapped forever at the center of that black hole or whatever?  Huh.  I mean there WAS the garbage disposal that his metaphorical Jigsaw-head gets stuck in early in the comic after all.

Alright, Davepeta sticks him in there?  Cool.

Yeah, you just had to remind us that he’s going to be plunging into his dead sister’s gaping hole, didn’t you? >:|

Davepeta. How they were so unfettered and brave. How they sacrificed themselves by flying right into the black hole like...

Like a fucking piece of garbage, you can almost hear Dave saying. May God rest his soul.

Yup.  Closing another callback.  Why is it silent, though?  Did the black hole stop sucking now that it’s gotten almost everything but John, or is it just his blackout?  I mean, is the end of everything just a thing that “happens” (which is still pretty fine, Paradox Space had a pretty good run), or did it just stop, or is it yet to be resolved or re-John-creates-Paradox-Space’s-beginning-because-hes-the-only-thing-left-constituted if he inexplicably doesn’t die from his heroic wounds or?  And Terezi definitely didn’t go flying around Paradox Space’s dying remains just to get sucked in too, right?  I definitely haven’t seen the whole picture yet I guess.

==>

Alright, back to Rose... actually this post’s getting long so I’ll cut here and keep going in another post.

[the-red-jester]

99 Things to do on your Birthday

So about a month ago, my friend texted me for birthday party ideas. Since we’re all depressed teenagers, these were the best things I could come up with:

1. Eat

2. Binge Avatar the Last Airbender

3. Text a celebrity

4. If it’s raining, run around outside

5. Draw with chalk

6. Drive all the way to the nearest ferry just to ride it

7. Read Twilight in a silly voice

8. Listen to Carmina Burana while sipping tea and wearing long dresses

9. Give each other terrible makeovers

10. Meditate

11. Watch videos about space that make us question our own reality.

12. Write a really bad song together

13. Make a bad music video for the terrible song we just wrote

14. Stargaze

15. Vandalize a park bench

16. Stage a murder but actually call the cops

17. Get in trouble for calling the cops

18. Draw pictures of each other without looking at them or the paper.

19. Custom tailor clothes for each other

20. Write a love letter to your cat

21. Go on a mini road trip to the nearest city

22. Blind taste test

23. Run around a grocery store and not buy anything

24. Dye each other’s hair

25. Try on every single clothing item at Walmart

26. Steal every napkin subway has to offer

27. Cook a birthday cake and make it look like you

28. Learn 3D animation

29. Try to dress like furries

30. DIY lipbalm

31. Create an online comic book

32. Apply for a job at NASA

33. Call the Pentagon’s phone number

34. Knit our own socks

35. Build a car

36. Ignore all your friend’s party ideas

37. Start an eraser company

38. Write a book

39. Do a photo shoot in our every day clothes

40. Interview each other and make a magazine with the photos we just took.

41. Open a vegan restaurant

42. Build a house and then blow it up

43. Plant trees

44. Pick up trash

45. Make a calendar with pictures of our friendship

46. Buy a Ouija board

47. Find love for each other

48. DIY boat

49. Study Physics

50. Learn sign language

51. Start a tiktok account

52. Make a fan page for some obscure actor we’ve never hear of before

53. Attempt to recreate the entire first season of Dirk Gently

54. Commit Arson

55. Drink maple syrup out of large buckets

56. Attempt to clone ourselves

57. Make new friends by going door to door and asking for friendship

58. Open gifts

59. Realize that the only gift that matters, is the gift of love.

60. Make friends with random guys who work at the mall

61. Buy the Sims 4

62. Study the anatomy of a cow

63. Invest in stocks

64. Gain money from the stock

65. Donate to a political figure’s campaign

66. Slowly take over the government

67. Shoot something with a bow and arrow

68. Visit random people at the hospital

69. Learn how to sing a barber shop quartet song and perform it in public

70. Apply to go to Harvard

71. Tape an audition for Stranger Things in a desperate attempt to go viral.

72. Go to a Comic Con

73. Continue to ignore your friend’s party suggestions

74. Do something very nice for someone

75. Create our own meditation CD

76. Cry on Jeff Bezos’ shoulder

77. Let him cry on our shoulders because his wife left him

78. Visit my family friend who happens to be a vice president of Toyota.

79. Pirate a movie nobody has ever heard of

80. Buy Google

81. Eat as many bananas as humanly possible

82. Move to Alberta and buy a couple horses

83. Fix every mistake we can find in Twilight

84. Draw on something we shouldn’t draw on

85. Sit somewhere we shouldn’t sit

86. Go to the fanciest restaurant in town and not order anything

87. Wash and scrub the trees in your front lawn

88. Scream

89. Look at each other’s baby photos

90. Create our own bath bombs

91. Invent a new way to harvest renewable energy sources

92. Have a beard growing competition

93. Make another list of party ideas

94. Visit the SPCA and pet the cats

95. Sit in a circle and tell bad life stories

96. Go to the beach

97. Go fishing

98. Slap someone with the fish you just caught

99. Learn to Weld