- On The Verge Of Everything, On The Edge Of Earth -

ursula k le guin said sci fi/fantasy does not have to be about giant wars or battles of good and evil or galactic disaster; it is best served as a lens through which to examine what is actually intrinsic to the human condition and what, once removed a few layers from our own perceptions & assumptions, begins to fall apart. and she was correct.

Honestly, same.

reading terry prattchet is so crazy, cause you'll be reading about a character called something like plinko plonko and their zany exploits, and then he'll just drop a paragraph that goes so insanely hard like -

and then I just have to stare at the wall for a bit.

Ursula K. Le Guin, The Left Hand of Darkness //The X-Files, 1x17

AI Search Engines: Why won't you use us? 😭

Me:

this had no business being as fun to work on as it was, but my god did I have a blast with this

In love with their interactions, the way they look and hug each other is so 🔝🔝🔝✨❤️

Which one do you like most? 🫣🫶

If we reach the 1.5k, I’m gonna make a special comic 👻

Also, my ko-fi is in my bio, if you want to support my art ✨🦐

like a solid 60% of weird fandom tropes were invented by women who needed slightly more avant garde ways to fuck spock.... wanting to fuck spock is in many ways a load bearing pillar of fandom like if u took it away the source code would just break theres like a molecule of wanting to fuck spock or reaction to everyone wanting to fuck spock within the heart of fanfic all fanfiction is about wanting to fuck spock except fanfic about wanting to fuck spock which is about women in stem

Roxanne falls in love with Megamind on day ninety seven.

That might not seem like a lot. Most people would tell you "Love at first sight" and "I just knew"'s aside. Three months is not enough time to really know someone. What if they snore? What if you have diametrically opposed views on stacking the dishwasher? What if it turns out you really are as picky as your ex said about what kind of coffee mug is acceptable in the morning?

But ninety seven days happens slowly. Bit by bit, a week at a time, only a day of which is spent in his company. Somewhere between two years and three when he's got her tied to a chair again, rolled up close in his own, elbows on his knees, hands dancing between motes of dust in the air as he explains reverse electromagnetisation and conjoined power components and his eyes are so big and bright and his mouth is stretched wide as he makes another pun about something that only makes sense to someone with an advanced mathematics degree (which neither of them have) and that should make her roll her eyes and shoot back an even worse one about something like meganetic attraction.

But he's there and he's fun and he's silly and he talks to her and while she's still realising what this rising light blooming in her chest means she leans over and closes the distance between them.

She kisses him lightly, teasingly, just a soft brush of lips on the surprised slack sag of his mouth and Roxanne feels an odd urge to giggle that she's managed to catch him off guard for once.

She kisses him because she likes him, because he never makes her feel dumb when he explains how his inventions work, because she wants to know if his mouth is still as expressive when on hers, because his beard looks soft and she's always wondered, because she's wearing her favourite shoes, and because its a Tuesday and she always has better luck on Tuesdays

She kisses him for a hundred different reasons.

But mostly because she wants to. Megamind, for his part, when she sits back again, (kindapping chairs are not comfortable to lean sideways on), still sitting there dazed, a clicking sound coming from his throat like his voicebox has stalled and has to work its way through restarting, almost explodes out of his chair. "I- you- Miss Ritchi, what?"

Megamind falls in love with Roxanne on day five, and day thirteen, and day twenty nine and forty seven etc etc. He falls in love with her every time she asks a question and every time she laughs and every time she makes his brain work that little bit faster to keep their conversations going.

He dreams of kissing her. Wistful daydreams while he waits for her to wake, blurry fantasises as he puts finishing touches on giant robots and flaming death traps. He dreams of kissing her slow, fast, in between. He dreams of stolen kisses, shy kisses, kisses to her hair, her cheeks, her temples, her hands.

And then firmly tells himself he's being ridiculous and decides to chase any thought of love out of his brain again right up until he sees her again.

He never let himself dream of kissing her lips.

Roxanne drags her lower lip through her teeth, savouring the taste of salt and tilts her head at him, "Hi," She says, braver than she feels, "I think I like you."

That seems to throw him even more than the kiss, "You do?"

"Yeah," She wishes he'd sit down again, looking at him from this angle is really doing a number on her neck, "I really do."

"That," Megamind hesitates, "Could be a very bad idea."

"Why?"

"Because I definitely really like you."

"Oh."

Diver convince octopus to trade his plastic cup for a seashell