letter pressed

Happy New Comic Book Day! Today is the kick-off of our SQUARE ONE program—first issues of our flagship titles for only $1!

This first round includes:

Find your local comic shop with findacomicshop.com or comicshoplocator.com and add your favorite comics to your pull list so you never miss out on an issue!

Which of our dollar comics are you excited to read this week?

A Swedish paper recently published a letter to the press from a person who was critical to the police chasing sex buyers (implying it is unfair that women selling sex aren’t punished; in Sweden it’s illegal to buy sex but not to sell, fortunately). The letter read: “Why should men who are incapable of luring women to free sex be forced to live in celibacy? Why should the men be punished but not the women? Do we have to force the men to go to Thailand or Germany to have their sexual needs satisfied?”.

The writer basically answered their own questions, I’d say, and this is something we should never deny to ourselves: many men believe sex is a human right - for men -, and believe they have the right to get it at the expense of women. Because prostitution is for most women a kind of exploitation, the exchange of money creates a power relation which negates consent from the selling person’s side, and the men who buy sex have absolutely no interest in what it’s like for them. That these men can’t “lure women to free sex” really should tell them something, and really reveal the involuntary nature of prostitution. This person is making an ultimatum, saying that if they won’t be allowed to buy sex in Sweden they will have to go to countries in which many women are even more vulnerable and exposed to situations that make selling sex even less of a “choice” (the trafficking rates in Germany rose when they made prostitution legal; in Sweden where buying sex is illegal they have not). I’m disgusted at this kind of thinking, at that it is enforced by people who seriously prioritize men’s imagined “right” to have sex over women’s safety and integrity. No, men are never “forced” to buy sex. They choose it, despite all the information out there about the vulnerable situation for women in prostitution and the studies that show that 9 in 10 women in prostitution want to get out. The choose to exploit women and reinforce the objectification of women. It’s unforgivable.

We were children engulfed in our innocence.
We never measured risks, never thought about a future we were never fully ready to commit to.
I loved you at a time where love was the only thing I knew how to harvest hope in.
I placed too many dreams in your empty hands, too many expectations for the things I wished we’d become.
We never did become.
You went on with your life as best as you could and in my own ways I did too.
Sometimes I still think of you.
The war we fought with the world for something we both knew wouldn’t last.
The battlefield we stood on opposite sides of and how much of our saving came from the disassembling of everything good that we were.
I took your innocence.
Somewhere you are still running with mine.
We could never get back who we were then.
No matter how hard we’ve both tried.
I look at you and your walls are higher than the last time I ran hurdles over them.
I don’t speak openly about love anymore.
Sometimes I still think of you.
I hope you know that there is still a thousand things that drag me next to you.

paper castles

Draco Malfoy x Reader
Warnings: swearing
Requested by Anonymous 
Inspired by “Burn” from Hamilton

She fell in love with his words.

With a thick, sun-soaked summer came a distance carved between the two of them, ink-pressed love letters being the only thread of connection.

Y/N never thought Draco would have a way with words. But she could have married him after the first letter.

The feeling was indescribable - that flutter that would set up camp in her ribcage whenever a letter would arrive. The way her fingers would wrap so desperately, but delicately, around the envelope. Moments Y/N would forever cherish.

When they got together, a rare occasion - to say the least, it felt like a refreshing gust of air in her lungs, when she was able to touch Draco. Run her fingertips up and down his arms, feel his crisp breath on the skin of her neck. 

She loved the way the tips of his fingers were embedded with ink as he gently grazed her cheek, inhaling the sweet scent he’d been deprived of for the last few weeks.

The way their lips would connect, like cool magnets so effortlessly drawn to each other, was so blissful it just about made her knees buckle underneath her.

Y/N ignored her brother’s first warning.

“Be careful with Draco, Y/N,” Harry said one day, after she had pushed the front door shut, a grin spread across her lips. “He’ll do what it takes to survive.”

The letters began to arrive sporadically. 

Y/N tried to push her worry to the pit of her stomach, but it had a nasty habit of bubbling up.

Harry’s eyes were soaked in concern for his sister, but she had a feeling he was holding in a hot plate of I told you so.

She still invested her hope in Draco, trying to decipher each word as if he were sending her a code. 

For what, she had no clue.

Y/N tried to deny that her heart was slightly aching and the boy she loved was feeling more and more distant with each handwritten letter. Even his penmanship had become more rough, slanted.

She crossed her fingers, remembering the black ink rooted in his.

They finally saw each other again at the end of the summer.

Draco’s face was grim when his eyes met hers.

“What is it?” she asked, hesitating. “And don’t fucking sugarcoat.”

He pressed his lips together, seeming as if he’s trying to postpone the following moment for as long as he can. 

Draco rolled up his left sleeve, and Y/N crumbled to pieces.

Because her brother is the Chosen One and she was in love with a Death Eater.

“There’s nothing I can say, is there?” Draco whispered, avoiding her gaze by gently closing his eyes.

All she could do was shake her head, manage to swallow the lump in her throat and whisper an unsteady, “No.”

She burned the letters.

Every last one.

hope you enjoyed!! i adore this song and have wanted to write something based off it for the longest time :)

anonymous asked:

Vriska may be a manifestation of the game itself? The way that her arc ends, the way that the story completes, and the way that she manipulates characters and flirts with Terezi, who seems to represent fear of rejection and self-hatred, all seems to line up with this a bit.

I’m really unsure of what elements you’re connecting between Vriska and Sburb! I mean she certainly did hold up the Sburb logo in her face-off against Lord English (which is definitely some kind of statement), but I never really “got” the ending. Plus, the beta kids are the ones trapped in the logo, which gives them the most direct relationship to the game if anyone.

There are a handful of manipulative characters in Homestuck, but are you singling out Vriska’s manipulation in the way she tries to force people to grow? If so, very fair! In fact, my current best guess is that she’s a manifestation of the very obsession with growing up! But I don’t think that makes her a manifestation of Sburb, if only because the trolls seem to be manifestations of emotional complexes of the characters – not of outside forces like the game. 

Kara sat her desk at Cat Co with a bored expression. She sipped at her fast food drink as she clicked through her computer. She was happy to be back home, but she already missed her friends from the other Earth. It was nice seeing so many superheroes in one place. It made her yearn for the same on her own earth.

Of course she could always count on her cousin and J'onn, but just being able to work together with others every now and again and create and close knit team was something she wanted. She knew her brother had worked with some other vigilante once, but he said he wasn’t much of a team player outside his family.

Kara sighed as she tapped randomly on her keyboard. There wasn’t a Barry Allen or Oliver Queen on this earth, or at least they weren’t famous enough to be googled. By extension Thea Queen and Sara Lance weren’t on her earth either. She’d googled them too.

She typed in random letters and pressed enter. Results showed up immediately and she glanced back to her screen. Articles about a well known Central City firefighter appeared. Article after article with pictures and information. Kara clicked on the most recent headline with a smile.

‘Lieutenant Rory Saves Child in Central City Apartment Fire’

Karas smile brightened as she clicked over more and more articles and pictures. Barry had told her a lot about Mick after he’d told her he’d killed his family and liked starting fires. Who would have expected he’d be such a well liked central city firefighter. Heck, he put out fires instead of starting them on her Earth.

He looked exactly the same as on Barry’s Earth. She wondered if his partner was still alive on this Earth too. She typed in the name Barry had told her and was surprised to find brand new posted information on him. She clicked the link and her mouth dropped. Leonard Snart was still alive and it looked like Mick and him were still friends. But what made Kara’s mouth drop was that she found Barry.

'Police Commissioner, Leonard Snart, Announces His Engagement to Longtime Secret Partner, Barry Allen.’

Kara had not expected that, but could beleive after remembering the way Barry spoke about Leonard. She smiled at both the picture of Mick Rory and Barry and Leonard. Maybe she’d take a trip to Central soon and give Mick that call. Even if it wasn’t the Mick that hit on her.

oneofthemillionarmy  asked:

25 + ceo!namjoon

twenty-five_exchanging letters

“hey y/n, there’s a couple of letters for you,” jimin chimes, walking past your cubical but before he plops down a few work-related envelopes but then a black one is very obvious when jimin holds it up with a smirk, “but oh look, what’s this, y/n?”

your eyes grow as wide as saucers, remembering just what that was that you gape, unable to speak and jimin senses how serious it must be that he lowers it down with a huff, “h-hey, don’t scare me like that… is it important?”

“v-very!” you exclaim, reaching up to snatch it and jimin has this look on his face where his lips drag down into a thin line along the way, eyes widening at how important it is that he slowly backs away, “o-kay, i’m out,”

pressing the letter to your chest, you quickly lean back against the chair to roll it towards the wall securing you in. gently, you peel the opening and already you’re excited. however, once you pull out the paper, you make a glance around to see the coast is clear and then the contents flow into your mind as you read through what’s written.

ah… i hope you’re not too stressed out with work or such. maybe i could help? i’m not sure what it is but hopefully i could be of any help.

also, are we still on for next week dinner? i can’t wait to meet you.

waiting for you, knj.

“y/n, are you slacking on the job?” a deep voice resonates your thoughts and you straighten your back, desperately holding the paper to your thigh, down under the table and you gulp, shaking your head, “n-no mr. kim…”

he doesn’t seem too confident with your answer and he’s about to say something to counter what you’ve said like maybe that envelope on your table doesn’t… doesn’t… his eyes freeze on the black envelope that’s oddly familiar to heart but just as he’s about to ask more about it, you notice this and take it away to shove the letter in.

clearing your throat, you glance away from him, but while you do your eyes catch a colored envelope in his hand because i’ll send to you mine in colors because you need more color in your life, mr… knj.

putting the two and two together, the same time… the man in front of you does, not only is he scrambling out of your way, you’re jolting from your seat to make a run to the bathroom and when the doors slam in unison, namjoon’s back is against his office, while yours is in the stall of the ladies room.

both holding a letter.

both hearts’ racing.

“oh shit.”

anonymous asked:

hamilton x laurens, google docs.

“What is this?” Alexander asked in wonderment.

“It’s Google Docs.” Lin chuckled.

“John come look at this, you press the letters and they go into the box!” Alexander reached down and poked one of the keys, his hand resting on the back of Lin’s chair and supporting his weight.

“Oh, I’ve always thought you could do so much if you had something like Google Docs.” Lin breathed,

“Laurens, look at this.” Hamilton said again.

“Alex.” John exhaled, his eyes fixated somewhere out the window. Alexander brought his attention away from the laptop to look at John with his eyebrows drawn together in worry. “Alex, look.” John said again, he turned, a single tear was rolling down his cheek. Alex rushed to stand next to John, he placed a hand on John’s cheek, wiping away the tear quickly with his thumb.

“Are you alright my love?”He asked. John leaned into Alexander and pointed out the window. Hamilton’s gaze followed where he was pointing. There on the sidewalk, stood a couple. They leaned casually against the wall, hand in hand and curled up against each other. One of them tipped his head up to kiss the other’s cheek lightly and it made all the difference in Alexander’s mind.

“M-Mr. Miranda?” He stuttered. Lin rose from his chair and joined the two men by the window. Alexander pointed at the two boys on the sidewalk with tears in his eyes. “Is that-” He struggled to finish his sentence. After seeing the couple, Lin smiled warmly. That was one thing he’d forgotten to tell them about the modern world. He nodded. The two men immediately embraced, wetting each other’s shoulders as they wept. Lin politely backed away and left the room, allowing the two men to have as long as they needed alone together.

Okay so I’m posting the rest of these from my phone, so don’t be mad if the formatting is weird or suddenly there are no paragraphs. This is supposed to be one of those time travel AU and the boys go to modern times. I must admit I got a bit carried away with this one as well…

Daughter Unspoken

Can you do an imagine where you are hotch’s daughter he never knew he had, maybe from a hook-up or something right before he and Haley got married? And him getting in touch with you?

Originally posted by nevermindtheb0ll0cks

Aaron couldn’t believe it.

You were grown, and had a life.

But you were his daughter.

His daughter.

Staring at the paperwork in front of him, complete with a handwritten letter from you, he presses the heels of his palms in his eyes as he heaves a heavy sigh.

That one night during a break with Haley.

Just one night.

Now, he was staring at a manila folder of your life.  Copies of your birth certificate and pictures of you and your mother.  Her familiar green eyes striking him hard through the foggy haze of that alcohol-induced encounter as he studies your facial features.

You may have your mother’s eyes and lips, but you had his stern brow and prominent jaw.

You were striking.

And you were his daughter.

Turning his attention back to your letter, he picks it up again as he reads it through, his mind memorizing every word and silently commenting to himself on how well-spoken you are.

You weren’t married.

You had a full-time career as a psychologist.

You were in the middle of opening your own practice in Tennessee.

Your favorite color is yellow.

And you didn’t want him being angry with your mother.

How could he be angry?

Taken aback, possibly.  Blind-sided, yep.  But angry?

He had a daughter.

He could never be angry at that.

And then his eyes found the P.S. at the end of the letter.

If you would like to call, I would love to talk to you.

And it listed your number.

Should he?

Could he…?

Did it really matter?

“Hotch?” David knocks as he stands in his office doorway.

“Yeah?” he says lowly before ripping his eyes away from the letter.

“You gonna go home anytime soon?”

The entire team had just gotten back in from a rough case, and it was 4 in the morning and the bags under his eyes were hanging lower than ever.

“In a minute,” Hotch mumbles as David squints lightly at his friend.

“Need anything?” David asks.

And as Aaron finds the courage to pick up his office phone at 4 in the morning, his eyes that have memorized your number begin to push the buttons on his phone as David sighs and slowly backs up down the hallway.

He didn’t know if you would pick up.

But he knew he wanted to talk.

Reaching the 20 mark ( thank you everybody!! ), we would like to introduce our new feature! : 0820BUZZ!

WHAT IS IT?: 0820buzz is a sideblog meant to function as a fictional gossip portal operating around the muses in 0820kst. Inspired by the many gossip forums, blogs, and websites ( such as netizenbuzz, pannchoa, e!news, etc. ) we wanted something for our members — a place with articles, news, rumours, gossip, blind-items & press letters. What better way to keep track of what’s happening around you?

HOW IT WORKS: You send a message or submit to the buzz-blog, with a rumour, gossip, legitimate news, blind-items or a full-blown article. Our admins will read through the content sent ( to ensure that it isn’t hateful ), and then it will be published on the blog. It is optional to submit pictures wanted for an edit, or you can submit an edit made on your own.

It is allowed to send something about a muse which isn’t your own, or involve several people. However — they MUST be part of 0820kst, please keep that in mind.

THEN WHAT?: So your muse ended up in an article, rumours, or even a scandal.. now what? Respond and handle it IC — let your character grow and develop, handle the consequences, HAVE FUN WITH IT!
You’re unsure of how to play around with it? Here’s a few suggestions: submit an ’official’ press letter from the company of your character. Have your character complain / deny / confirm things online. Let an ‘insider’ speak up about it.

OKAY, BUT… : Things are unusually calm right now for your muse, or you don’t want your character to stir something up? Sometimes netizens bring up old news! If that still feels unlikely; scroll through the blog, see what’s going on with the other members, let it give ideas for plots and threads!

IN SHORT: Share what you see, or hear, about 0820 members. Build and develop your character from it, and use it as an opportunity for interactions and plots. You got some questions about the whole thing? Contact us on TUMBLR IM on the 0820buzz account, we gladly help & answer all questions.

Keep reading


SIDE NOTE: Black Rat is less than five bucks (down from fifteen) on Amazon right now. If you’ve been on the fence about it, or if you already read it and want one fer yer mama—NOW’S THE TIME! Tell yer friends! Call the cops!

Hey, fellers. Here’s my first-ever process post:

I’m an advocate for hand-lettering. I think some comics suffer when the text doesn’t come from the same hand as the line art. That inconsistency can be jarring—and usually ruins my immersion in a story. I letter everything in my books, from the dialogue to the page numbers and front matter. I generally use my own handwriting or imitate old alphabets (like in that first picture), but when I was workin’ on Bow White for my last book, Black Rat, I wanted the lettering to look like the story had been translated from another language. I wanted it more mechanical. I wanted Leroy lettering—the lettering system seen in EC comics and various Golden Age comics where a proper letterer may not have been efficient, affordable, or available. There are a few computer fonts that make use of the Leroy letter forms, but I couldn’t use any of them, due to the number of passages where I repeat the same words over and over again (like “NOW, NOW, NOW, NOW, NOW…”). I needed every N, O, or W to be just a little different from the one that came before it.

Long story still long, I jumped on Ebay and grabbed me a lettering set from 1950, broke out my Rapidographs, and set to work. A 34-page story wouldn’t usually take too much time to letter, but (because I had no idea what I was doin’) it took me over 40 hours to letter Bow White with the set. I made plenty of mistakes and spilled plenty of ink, but I’m happy with it—and I never woulda been happy with a font. I got what I wanted—mechanical letters done in th’ same hand that did th’ line art.