#hell! yes!

"You want me to come...? It's a council meeting. That's a little err... official, for me."

"I want you to come, you're graduating soon... and the experience will be good for you."

"What about the kids? And Kiara?"

"What about Robin and Delilah? They can babysit."

Spectre wipes the sleep from her eyes and gets up. Most of the conversation is missed, but she manages to pick out the latter half. The voice makes her squint, curious.

Hm? Is that... V?

She creates a simple t-shirt and shorts, stretching, as the door is opened.

Thank you for asking! Flame Con was amazing- for so many reasons.

I got to connect with colleagues and collaborators that I rarely see in person. I got to put my queer comics in the hands of queer readers. I felt safe enough to speak on a panel (I am terrified of public speaking) and the panel went great. My eyeballs got to revel in the creativity and fucking top-tier skill that queer creators bring to a con hall.

But most of all, and this I think is woven into all the delights I just listed, the queer comics community at Flame Con, cheesy as it sounds, was so very healing and affirming. If anyone reading this is thinking about going next year— go! All of us together are kind and brilliant and just being in that space felt like rain after a drought. I’m so inspired by all the amazing art and comics I saw, and I feel buoyed by all my comrades. We’re fucking awesome, and goddamn we make good art.

ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC.  For this ask meme!

causing a scene (a reason to smile)

Shouto can admit that “superpowers, huh?” was probably not his best opening line, upon meeting his new–partner?  He thinks they’re supposed to be partners.  But the boy doesn’t seem to mind that Shouto is awkward, can’t seem to tell how relieved he is to be hidden behind the mask.  And that makes it a little easier to deliver the line like it’s a deadpan joke.  His new partner is dressed in a red and black suit, with a big smile and fluffy green hair, and he laughs at Shouto’s flat bafflement.

“It’s amazing, right?” the boy shouts, throwing his arms out as if to embrace the entire city.  “God, watch this–”  And he runs and launches himself off the edge of the roof, across a gap that’s easily twenty feet, to land in a roll and pop back up laughing on the other side.  Shouto can’t help but grin and wave back, and then the boy jumps back and runs up to him.  “So,” he says, tipping his head back to look Shouto in the eye.  “I’m Ladybug.  What’s your name?”

“Chat Noir,” Shouto says, bowing with a flourish just to see the boy laugh again.  It makes his eyes sparkle and does something to Shouto’s chest.  The something feels light and bubbly and not entirely unlike champagne, and it makes it easy to play up the Dashing Prince bit that photographers always think is too over-the-top.  They like Shouto to lean into his chimeral good looks and ‘air of mystery,’ and it’s nice to be safe behind the mask where he can tip a pretend hat and say, “At your service.”