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#what do you mean you and i are the same?
stardotnet · 4 months
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an inherited creature?
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ladybeug · 1 year
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I drew the same comic twice because I didn't think the first one was funny enough. I don't know if the second comic is funnier though??
Here's both of them
Side by side because i couldn't decide which one to put first - knowing the punchline changes the experience?? pick your adventure. read either one first.
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which ones funnier i honestly can't tell
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inkskinned · 9 months
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you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.
you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.
he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.
a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.
he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.
you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.
people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.
wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.
also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.
he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."
you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.
"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."
he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.
you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.
is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?
you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 7 days
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I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker.
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#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wen ning#wei wuxian#wen qing#jiang cheng#Truly Massive disclaimer here: I am a Jiang Cheng enjoyer. I like his character. I enjoy that he is very flawed and volatile.#This episode of the audio drama has a lot of great breakdown scenes featuring JC - and they all deserve a feature.#But underlying this comic is a small meta comment of 'ah man I have too many comics of JC just wailing sadly'#My goal is to draw 6-8 comics per episode - I sometimes have to truncate and cut good scenes out.#Especially when a large majority is just different flavours of trauma and toxic relationships to your self-worth.#I would also like to make a note here that just because you lose the ability to do something that is very tied to your core identity-#-does not mean your life is over. It will feel like the end of the world. It will send you into a spiral of grief. It will hurt so badly.#Sometimes we do not realize how tied up our identities can be in certain things until we are cut loose.#You don't lose yourself. I promise the pain will fade in time. I promise you will find other things to tether you. I promise you will be ok#Life moves forwards. Time moves forwards. You move forwards.#Ego death just means an opportunity for ego rebirth. You are never committed to being the same person forever.#To wrap this around to JC: Yeah I love the twist with the core transfer but man I would have loved to see JC accept the loss.#Obviously it happens for a reason (story) but I can have my AUs. I can have these 'what-ifs'.#described in alt text#I'm trying it out! *please* give me feedback - I want to eventually Add image ID to all of these comics one day
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myuminji · 1 year
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the bride walked down the aisle to where the groom stood, and there they exchanged their vows in front of the altar...
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otaku553 · 6 months
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Quite frankly still obsessed with the three of them
A little procrastination doodle
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vigilskeep · 7 months
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read my powerpoint boy
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Marcille and Laios are absolutely, utterly unbiased when it comes to Falin, just saying.
They support Falin’s rights, but more importantly, they support Falin’s wrongs. 💀
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hood-ex · 3 months
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Reading older comics like I love this, this is so dumb 😭 and reading modern comics like I hate this, this is so dumb 😒.
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kagoutiss · 1 month
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din’s champion
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fictionadventurer · 3 months
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How did Treasure Planet manage to come up with the greatest aesthetic in all human history? Victorian elegance plus space-age flair, with just enough dirt and grime and wear and tear to make it feel real? A combination of traditional and computer animation that perfectly embodies the movie's blend of old and futuristic? How does it get any better than that?
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miguxadraws · 19 days
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did this just so i dont sleep without drawing anything today
demon and nun au by @spitinsideme
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uncanny-tranny · 6 months
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Another bonus to learning a fiber art is being able to speak to others in a Lovecraftian language that nobody else understands...
...and also being able to read things like THIS:
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 2 months
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Bros before Ho(oh my god is that Hanguang-Jun?)
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starry-bi-sky · 4 months
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More Clone^2 or just Damian Clone Au because these two have my heart rn.
————
“Asmi Danyal.” Damian says.
“Asm- asmi Danyal.” Danny repeats.
There is a sharp jab to his leg.
Danny thinks this means he’s winning, and he grins goofily.
(He’s not, he did the pronunciation wrong. He has to say it again.)
Where he is, is his room. It’s nearing midnight, and him and Damian have been sitting in his room for the last three hours.
He has books about learning arabic sprawled at his feet, from beginner’s books to advanced, he got whatever he could get his hands on that would teach him Arabic.
And Damian, little Damian who has finally taken it upon himself to settle down over these last few months, has decided that he doesn’t really like the way Danny is teaching himself.
“Your pronunciation is bad.” He told him through the translator Danny downloaded onto his phone. And then he sat down onto the ground and pointed at the floor and said “‘Ardia.”
And then wouldn’t stop until Danny said it in a way that he liked. He moved on to the next object. And then the next, and then the next. And so this has been their dynamic for the last two weeks. They’re finally moving on to proper sentences.
(It’s not fool-proof, and that’s why Danny still has his books. Damian doesn’t know every word, and knowing words doesn’t mean he knows how to string them together into a sentence.)
(But never let it be said that Danny is not a quick learner when he sets his heart to something.)
“Asmi Danyal.” Damian says.
“Asmi Danyal.” Danny repeats.
(“My name is Daniel.”)
Damian nods, satisfied and sated. He points to himself, puffed up like a peacock showing off its feathers. “Asmi Damyan Alghul.” He says, “‘Ana abn aldam.”
(There’s a flicker of uncertainty on Damian’s face, a slump in his shoulders that exists for only a millisecond. It’s a look on Damian’s face that Danny sees on his own whenever he looks in the mirror.)
(A question of identity, an ‘I think’ - am I really who I say I am? Doubt comes in with fickle tongue.)
Danny - much to his own surprise - is able to piece together the second half of his sentence on his own. It’s slow, assigning words to translation, but he learns it.
(“My name is Damian Al Ghul. I am the blood son.”)
The blood son - he can only assume he means the blood son of Bruce Wayne, of course. He shares the same face as the very public figure’s youngest boy.
And Danny shares the face of the youngest boy’s father.
And much like him, this Damian was younger than the original, thirteen year old one. Much younger.
“Marhaban Damian.” Danny says, a sly smile creeping up his face. “Asmi Danyal Fenton —” his eyes glance to one of his books, a list of greetings going down the page. He finds one he’s looking for. “Tasharafna.”
(“Hello Damian, my name is Daniel Fenton. It’s nice to meet you.”)
(He’d hold out his hand in a customary, playful handshake, but his palms still sting and hurt from his last encounter with Damian’s blade. He’s got them half curled at his side, unmoving as much as possible.)
Danny got the last pronunciation wrong, much to his amused delight. Damian’s face darkens and his smug expression falls away into a scowl.
“‘Ant aldajaalu, wanha ‘tasharafna.”
(“You are the imposter, and it’s ‘tasharafna’.”)
And so here they go again.
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aeymii · 15 days
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Sometimes, you just gotta sit back and draw this a-hole✨
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