#GUYS LOOK I STYLISED HIM

[mrghostrat]

it's giving '90 miles per hour in central london' realness

[almalvo]

About An Official Spiderverse Artist...

Please do not just scroll past this post; read it.

If you guys follow me on twitter, you probably already know.

But if you dont or still want to read this anyway - here you go:

I aint big, but I got a growing platform that I see as important for me to use as a force for things that matter.

So here I am.

And I got something to say about a certain "artist".

There are so many fucked up people who call themselves artists who are so heavily worshipped by us who both get and or dont get outed in the world for things they do and for their general piss-poor behaviours and persons.

Im here to talk about one in particular (and certainly wont be the last).

There is an artist that basically EVERYONE here has seen art from before, printed in the official Sony artbooks too.

If you have seen this:

Then you have seen this artist before.

His name is Alberto Mielgo. He goes by @/pinkman_himself on twitter.

He is a HUGE part of the art direction and stylisation of the spiderverse movies, if that isnt already obvious. Because he was the former original art director of Into The Spiderverse.

Yes. Former.

Cuz he got "mYsTeRiOuSlY fiReD" from Sony 2 years into pre-production and completely removed from the project.

You may have also seen this character before:

Yes. THAT asian character from Netflix's Love Death + Robots, from the episode "The Witness".

Familiar? Yeah. Because this episode was also made by the same guy, Mielgo.

I aint going to talk about what happens in that episode and hesitate to encourage anyone to watch it - cuz all it basically is is a megalo-misogynistic, assault "glorified for the sake of aRtT", racially fetishised showcase of this crazy makeup/haired bdsm stereotyped asian girl sex worker who essentially gets murdered over and over and over after running for her life completely naked through the city for all of us to see for some fucking reason.

BUt yeah anyways, you can see it in the first pic, but Ill put it here to show more clearly - this here is NOT the character from LDR. But I can understand why you might think so:

Yeah. You read that name in the bottom right corner correctly. This is Peni Parker. His concept art of Peni Parker. A 13 YEAR OLD CHILD. Lookin suspiciously like and dressed as the adult person from LDR with ALSO the crazy hair, make up - WITH AN O-RING CHOKER AND BALL-GAG LIPSTICK (BDSM).

13. year. old. child.

This man only sees east asian women this way.

He likes them crazy, sexy, broken--

and young.

Cuz this man also wrote this on a now-deleted post on his website:

Yeah. He, this whole ass middle-aged white cishet male spaniard thirstin for kids since he was 18 for 12 year old girls.

Cuz 12 year old girls are a fuckin "KNOCK OUT" when they grow up, when they ripen up into adulthood, to this man Alberto Mielgo, aka @/pinkman_himself, this creature.

And if auctioning NFTs isnt bad enough (cuz yes, ofc he does that too - its literally the first option on his website) -

His entire fucking portfolio is of drawing women he had sex with.

His fucking PROFESSIONAL PORTFOLIO is all of painting and drawing women in very compromising, questionable ways of the VERY SAME WOMEN HE HAD SLEPT WITH THROUGH HIS LIFE.

They look as creepy as they are.

But the scariest part?

While I myself had only just found out about this some days ago as of writing this, some of us have known about this man and his antics for years.

And he keeps getting greenlit by the industry, over and over and over; winning awards, getting respected, praised, admired, even by fellow at-home artists like many of you out there if you dont already do so.

And nothing will happen to him cuz he is a white cishet male artist who has money and a following and connections and influence and power.

So yeah.

I just wanted to talk about a certain official Spiderverse artist to just let yall know there are freaks everywhere, and that no matter how small it is, it's people like me and you who need to do what we can to keep up awareness and warn our communities and protect our most vulnerable.

My suggestion is to take heed of what I said, ask questions about everything you will ever see again from anyone around you, no less the industry, THINK for once, and actually give a fuck.

Keep away.

Do not support this man.

But the decision is ultimately yours.

Stay awake, yall.

-------

(His face, publicly available as his imdb profile):

scary.

[arainmorn-art]

Okay, on the topic of artstyle let me say something about Ace Attorney Investigations. Edgey there looks so much prettier than in the original trilogy.

Take a look at this ugly ass ear in the original and refined pretty ear in AAI, for example, and a more precise lines for neck muscles. Nothing to say about much more competent shading and lineart.

It's still cool to see how original trilogy's artstyle was clearly influenced by oldschool anime with its expressions and especially proportions.

And that's where AAI struggles the most.

While I love Edgeworth's face in Investigations, his body proportions are killing me. Original trilogy gave him cupboard wide shoulders and yaoi shovel hands, BUT IT WORKED as Edgeworth's head was also more stylised.

It DOESN'T WORK when you draw Edgeworth in a semi-realistic style. And as a professional artist myself I guess, that at first Edgworth's shoulders were drawn in normal human proportions until there weren't some artdirection notes to redraw them in this laughably bad way.

How could I know? Because the gorgeous motherflipping Lang was drawn from scratch with proportions of an athletic wide-shouldered man - and this bs wasn't happening!

The same goes to Badd. He is very wide, but he doesn't look unnatural.

Come on, guys, Edgey already gave a flirty bottom energy near this hot mess, wider shoulders woud not help his twinkiness.

Ahem. Also, jeez, can we appreciate the way how masterful the drawings of hands are?

And this von Karma. Goddamit. Even if I am very vanilla, this is some hot daddy dom material. The facial structure, the precise shading, the detailes, the wrinkles, the hair, the smirk, the stare, daaaaaaaaaaamn that's a sexy drawing.

While here he looks like a f*cking toad.

That was my TED talk, thank you for reading.

[agent371]

This post is talking about the designs (and the designs only, I haven't read anything from the authors and dont even know who they are so this is design based only) released for the new Damian Wayne comic - The Boy Wonder. I will be heavily critical and btching about these, but please tell me your thoughts as well. After Damian, the others are under the cut. Please read because it's important.

Damian's design is actually really good and the best one, which is probably good since this is a comic about him. And I love how he's not whitewashed, which is something that happens way too much in comics.

Now, to Nightwing, his design is okay for a Nightwing design, but he just looks off in this style. I think if they tried to stylise him more, it could look a lot cooler. So I think he's just got wasted potential. Also, he's probably whitewashed as well to make damian more special as the "only" POC in the family (probly why Cass, Duke, Luke, and Luicus aren't here as well).

Babs is next, and this is the main reason I made this post. They abled her. DC authors stop abling disabled characters, please, for the love of me, I can't stand it. She can be disabled and still be relevant in the plot. I swear the only reason authors do this is because they don't know how to write disabled characters. If they need a Batgirl, use Steph or Cass because they are more than capable of doing it. I know they aren't as iconic as Babs, but move on DC. She's so much more interesting as Oracle.

Batman, I'm not a fan of his big blocky design. I just don't like it. He also looks really irrelevant and giving this is a comic about Robin (his son!) I think he should be relevant or look like he isn't a background character who just grunts, like for the design it looks like he doesn't talk. Don't like it.

Jason now, I actually love his Red Hood costume it looks sick, and the R on the chest *chefs kiss*. But his robin outfit is too gritty, and from that, I can tell he's going to be mischaracterised as the "angry Robin," so Hood looks cool, but that's all it is, his looks.

Tim. There is so much to say, omg. Where is his hero outfit! Everyone else got them. Why didn't he? You can actually see RR in the preview, so why wasn't that design put here? Why is it just Tim? And why does kid Tim look homless you know he grew up rich, before and after his adoption sure he has a style but his cloths wouldn't be friad he'd still look sleek and scruff not on the verge of his cloths falling off his back. For this, I can tell he'll also be mischaracterised as just like Jason since this is a Damian comic they are doing to do him so dirty. :( Sad day for a 90's Tim Drake fan (like every day, tbh save my guy). His RR design also has a shitty mask, but other than that, it seems fine, I like the wings/cape for it that looks pretty cool.

Alfred is a stereotypical old man. He's got no individuality what so ever and will proble be in one panel, say something sarcastic, and never show up again.

Ra's is okay. That's all.

Talia doesn't even look like herself . If you showed me her design with no context, I would not know who she is.

Carrie. Why is she here? Like honestly, why? There are better characters to include in a comic like this, like Steph or Cass or Duke or Helana. They would all be better chooses than Carrie. I'm not the biggest Damian fan, but ofter, Damian fans have been wanting him and Huntress as in a comic for a bit. I do like her design, but I just don't get why she's here. (I'm not including her image because of the limit bit is on my previous repost)

[saintbleeding]

[id: a text post by @/oldwomanyaoi reading “do you think love can bloom between a guy who looks like O_O and another guy who looks like =_=”, followed by three stylised sketches of martin and jon from tma based on those by astrelle/mothcharm. the first pair show martin looking disconcerted and jon looking irritated, a cigarette in his mouth. the second pair show martin irritated and jon with wide, teary eyes. the last show martin smiling and blushing and jon, with many extra eyes, gazing at him lovingly. end id.]

i do. and what’s more i think they can be ambidextrous. i mean bisexual. i mean-

[mynameisnotthepoint]

So yesterday, I binged Love in the big city. I had read the book, and as I am wont to do, i skimmed through to get back to the episodes and really sit down and watch them later (hopefully in small increments over the next two weeks).

I have been scrolling around on twitter since then (as one does, I am sick in bed with nothing to do but an assignment I don't have the brain power for right now) and really made me think.

First, I looked at international fans' reactions in English e.g. a gay guy I follow who parties a lot and talks openly about his sex life said it felt real, another guy kept complaining about Go Young's taste in men but also the people who watched it for the romance and only focused on that (and the sex scenes, which have racked up 100.000s of views). Some excitedly writing about how handsome the actors were, how they wanted to see a second season, a shame about this or that plot point (the "endgame" not being there). And as @lurkingshan said, it is NOT a romance drama or even a BL drama. This is a chronicle of one's man's life and his trauma, his relationships and his triumphs.

A lot of English-writing commentors praise the actors for their bravery. And that is always the debate, isn't it? Without them taking the role, this thing might not have been made. But the people behind it, who wrote, filmed, assisted, the writer who is a gay man himself, they all had such high stakes too, even higher (the author kept urging people on twitter to give the drama high views, one of the actors offered free hugs and an eating live stream if they managed to trend at no. 1). The drama is a depiction of a queer person's life as it could happen. Taking on this role, playing the part and then leaving it behind, is that as brave as people who live this life every day? Not to say that none of the actors in this production could be queer, bc some probably are.

One of the people i follow on twitter pointed out this feels like the drama shows queer sex, not sensationalised sex, just, that sex is a part of life so it is depicted in a series that is about life. With reading that, I began to wonder what queer koreans were saying about the series. Thanking the fact that google translate has not yet dropped their support of X, formerly twitter, I began by searching up Nam Yoon Su's name in Korean. A lot of people were calling him handsome, saying they cried about his performance. And then I stumbled upon several things:

1. The club scenes/music they used seems outdated to some Korean queers. They wrote that this feels more like a man in his 30s reminiscing his 20s than someone actually in their 20s, which, fair, the drama is told over the span of like 10 years I believe. Also the commentors thought the dancing was bad. But they said, even if some of it felt not true to gay life/the actors couldn't completely sell it as believable, that the drama was important and shouldn't be criticised too harshly.

2. They were having a linguistic debate about the usage of Korean gay slang (i think it was the word 기갈, but I could be wrong bc my Korean vocabulary is like 30 words) and that it has come into vogue with straight girls who go to gay bars, as Mi Ae does in the drama. In a way, it is a risk bringing a subculture that is/was quite closed to the mainstream (I think similar critiques have been made about drag race).

3. That the drama was not reaching its intended audience (queers) and was instead something for straight BL fans to screech over. It does feel kind of weird that something that veers more into raw territory (if you disregard the casting of Nam Yoon Su, who is super pretty and not at all like Young was described in the book), is treated the same as the stylised/trope-ified human experiences we see in some BLs (nothing wrong with those! Media is in its essence always a distillation of an experience),

I think that there is always a risk of depicting something that is close to the way actual individuals experience it and running into voyeuristic territory, on display for millions of people. Is it weird to want people to take this more seriously? To look at it in depth, treat the characters like humans that could actually be living out there and not Ken dolls you can mash together? Or is that too reductive of me, dictating what other people's experience with media should look like?

These are just my initial thoughts, I need to ruminate on them more, and I could be completely wrong about all of this.

I myself rarely go outside and have not had many queer IRL friends, which is why I am drawn to these series. To be honest, I don't even know the local queer slang bc I have been to the queer bar here once before it closed down due to internal disputes. Reading Love in the big city made me feel like i was hit with a sledgehammer, the series makes me want to go out and live again (once I am feeling up to it).

[veintrry]

HAUNTING SOUNDS

an: I have four other Halloween fics and this is the one i rolled with. can u tell I got tired at the end. (ifyk the ac feel free to comment!)

tagz: 3k. casual at the beginning, smut, minor degradation, fingering, brief mentions of groping, creampie, scaramouche was forced to volunteer

A trip to a haunted mansion leaves you abandoned within the eerie isolated rooms of the vacant home till a familiar face decides to make the chilling night grow in warmth.

Wooden boards creak beneath your feet and each step you take towards the darkened path before you is a risk of being taken by surprise. You and a couple of your friends had chosen to visit a haunted house. It was your first time, and you'd never been to one before, so why not?

However, you were left abandoned after everyone split up due to a panic. You decided it wasn't worth calling their names when you could meet them outside...when you get out of here that is.

You had stumbled onto a narrow hallway, one with many doors all of which are vandalised or partially ajar. There was no reason to peek, you'd be met with webs and a void. Continuing to progress, you held your phone for light. The sounds outside of people had long vanished and you were left with the sound of your own breaths, the house, and whatever else was there with you.

A creak cuts through the tense air. You still. Tempted to look behind you, around you, yet your body is frozen. You swallow your nerves, hoping that maybe you had misheard or maybe it was just one of your friends who is nearby, but the noises don't stop as you had wished, they seem to be actively doing the opposite.

A whisper here, a squeak there. It felt like your mind was being toyed with and your breaths were growing heavier- A deafening crash came from behind you, something like shattering glass, a vase? You peer over your shoulder, squinting your eyes in an attempt to see if there was a figure in the spotted dark.

A row of footsteps resound, thunderous and agile… Yet, it wasn't coming from behind you. The sooner the realisation sunk in and you turned your head forward you were met with piercing stormy violet irises, lit up with thrill and conniving mischief as hands grab at you.

Not a sound leaves me and yet the prior anticipation has piled atop you, and you frantically push him away with a gasp as you stumble back, feeling your heart beating out of your chest. Your legs feel weakened and the space between the two of you grows. Blinking, he only gets closer, till… Wait. "Scaramouche?"

"You're really easy to scare, aren't you?" A smirk was plastered on his dark wine lips, some 'blood' leaking from the corners. You can practically see how glad he is to have humiliated you like that, even if he was the only one to see it.

"Shut up, I didn't know you'd do that." You retort weakly, although evidently more relaxed compared to prior now that there was someone you knew here.

In turn, he raises a brow at you, hand on his hip as he looks at you as though you're the biggest moron he knows. And in his opinion you might be. "It's a haunted house. What do you expect?" You can only remain silent. Though, you use this to take in his appearance. With a ragged cloth draped around his neck, filled with holes and tattered at the bottom.

He still somehow maintains his ability to stylise his clothing with black button up, decorated with a brooch that reads 'Haunted House Staff'. Unexpected…. A violet necktie is knotted tightly and securely, though he seemed to disregard his flimsy collars. Rustles dressed the wrists and torso of his attire, and it's hard to not tell what's happening here.

Your eyes linger down… This guy still wore shorts even in October… At least he had sole knee stockings on, though, I'm not sure how historically correct that is for vampyres.

"Are you going to keep staring?" His tone was harsh and seemingly annoyed. Well, he likely thought being put in a somewhat prissy outfit is agitating. Actually, "How'd they get you to do this?"

You are met with a stone cold face and apparent distaste. "Don't ask." And maybe that's for the better sake of both your conscience. "So, what, are you gonna stand there all night?"

"Why did you even come here alone, are you stupid or something?" That man could not hold his tongue if he had a gun to his head. He seemed like he already wanted you gone, hell, if you asked maybe he'd show you the path out himself. Then again, that's just how he sounds most times: Uninterested and aloof. The vampire sthick makes sense now.

Approaching him to a more comfortable distance, you angle your phone so the light is revealing to you both. "I didn't come here alone, moron. I'm not that lonely." You swear you hear him mutter under his breath, 'could've fooled me', but you decide to ignore it, for the spirit of Halloween.

"Either way, I lost the others so I was roaming around on my own." This seems to capture his attention and his head perks up with an all too familiar grin. He wasn't one to be so blatant but it was like even he was elated by whatever scheme came into mind. "So you're alone,"

He inches closer, leaning into you with darkened indigo irises and you swear his pupils expand at the idea. "All alone?" A hum leaves his throat and he pulls back. His smile cools and his arms cross over his torso.

"Stay with me."

Opening your mouth to ask why he'd even offer, especially because he is part of the staff, you don't think it'd make sense to have someone of the crew help a participant. And to add onto that, it was strange for him to put it on the table in the first place. "I'm only keeping you company." He interrupts, "You'd get too scared by yourself. That much is clear." You wanted to argue otherwise, but you held your tongue and swallowed your retort. It was better to have company than nothing.

Turning on his heel, he walks off crossed arms and takes casual strides in his raven black platforms, expecting you to follow behind him, so you do. "How long ago did you lose each other?" Scaramouche asks, gaze straight ahead unlike your wandering ones, inspecting the scene you travel through. "A while ago. I thought I'd just get out and meet them that way."

"Why not call?" He suggested, peering over his shoulder back to you. "Didn't think it would be this hard to get out." A chuckle leaves his throat but the small lifted corners of his lips quickly disappear as he halts. "They must be far." He begins, tone laced with a certain ominous vine and you wonder what misconduct he was plotting. "Yeah… What of it?"

His body faces your direction and you can see him bite on the inside of his bottom lip, almost appeased at the perfection of this outcome. "I haven't gotten a break in well over three hours." The dark-haired man mentions, stepping towards you. "I'm hungry." Raising a hand to his face, he swipes off the paint along his chin, smudging it along his porcelain skin.

Those unforgettable amethyst eyes glaze over the crimson that tints his fingertips before meeting your irises in an almost enrapturing look, as though he intended to take your soul.

"I prefer the real thing…"

With sudden movements you watch him come closer to you, yet before you can process it you feel how one of his palms rests against your waist, another on your upper back as the gentle yet prominent sensation of his teeth meeting with the skin of your neck makes itself known, not only in feeling but with a mark.

This takes you by surprise. You cling an arm to his tricep, as if to ensure that he wasn't just losing it. Maybe he got so bored he went crazy. Though, the shove he acts on proves otherwise as he holds you against the wall, the ceiling above decorated in webs and fake bats.

His tongue licks at your skin, as if to seal the mark he left, but he doesn't end there, trailing kisses up to your jawline. "Scaramouche-" You interrupt, voice filled with an amount of confusion and something else.

"Don't think too deeply about it. I just need something to cure my boredom." He muttered, answering your unspoken question. Nibbling along the skin of your jaw, he takes in your scent whilst his fingers stroke your skin through the fabric of your clothes.

"We have all the time. I have so much I want to do to you…"

It becomes crystal clear that he has not been joking nor underselling what he meant when he voiced those thoughts. His almond-shaped nails can be felt digging into your skin, his hold ok you growing stronger. "I'm going to ruin you." Delight permeates his tone, his lips moving closer to your ear and his tongue pokes out, swiping at your lobe before chewing on it, his face plastered with the smile of a predator toying with their next meal.

"Won't someone come?" You make no attempts to push him away, only looking at the blackened hallway. A mocking laugh leaves him like you had asked something naive. "No one's gonna pass by, unless you want me to fuck you in a room you can't even see in?"

The risk was high but you'd rather not enter one of those rooms only filled with decor and piles of ruined furniture and books. He takes your silence as your answer, "That's what I thought."

"Just relax, I got you."

A firm hold was on your body, his warmth growing more and more apparent against you. Placing a hand on the side of your face, he revolves your head away from him, granting more skin for him to feast on. Shivers run up your back as you feel his hot breaths meeting the skin of your neck, his sharp canines grazing you before he digs in with a relieved moan.

The hand on your back doesn't remain still for long, his nails scratching down the centre of your back till they reach your thighs. Squeezing the mould of flesh possessively till crescent marks taint your beautiful skin. He continues to kiss your body as if he was praising someone superior to himself, a being above his reach.

His palm massages the skin of your legs, moving inwards as he hums. You swallow thickly, feeling the raspy vibrations against you.

Letting your hands find home at his nape, you bring him closer to you, his bites growing rougher and more painful, feral like an unstoppable force of hunger and yet, it only serves to fuels the growing heat inside of you that makes you roll your hips against him, pleading for him to proceed faster. "Stop wasting time…" You complain, but he only snickers in return. His digits reach your underwear, tracing the patterns of the design before giving you what you've been waiting for and rubbing your clit slowly through the fabric, tormenting you for his own amusement. "Be patient," He reprimands hoarsely, "I'll fill you up when I want to."

A whimper leaves you and you push your body to meet his fingers repeatedly. Still, you need more than that, you need to feel all of him. Your hands trail down all of you till a finger hooks onto the side of your panties, yanking them off in one swoop, eagerness prominent in your moves. There's no hiding the amusement in his eyes, it's as if he's pleased with your actions.

You don't need to tell him again what you want for him to start touching you again, this time his pace growing faster, more than you even wanted.

Leaning into you, he captures your lips with his, biting on your bottom lip before taking you in as though he wants to taste every inner part of you, memorising it like the back of his hand. Sliding your tongue along his swollen bottom lip, he guides you into his burning mouth, pressing himself against you and forcing your back to the wall as he lets you feel the strength of his body.

He was starting to grow impatient himself and his actions revealed that as his free hand slipped under your clothing with ease, groping at your chest, touching the supple softness of your breasts and pinching your nipples in between his fingers. God, how he wanted to shove his dick in-between them and cum on your pretty face.

The growing hardness was making itself more evident and you can feel his skin meeting your abdomen. Metal resounds as you unzip his shorts, sliding them off partially, just enough to slip your hand inside and palm him through his pre-cum stained thin boxers.

A whine leaves his throat and if divinity existed you were certain you had just heard what it must be like.

Taking out his cock from the confines of his boxers, you feel up and down his length rapidly as though memorising each vein beneath his skin. Your thumb traced the slit of his tip again and again, causing his kisses to grow sloppier into wet tongue kisses as he merely desires to feel you.

Forehead-to-forehead, his crimson stained lips separate from yours, remaining parted as he groans with every move that you make, practically paralysing him under your touch. You could feel him inching closer to your entrance and when his finger enters you, you nearly melt in glee. He pumps up into you with growing speeds, adding another digit as he stretches you out for his cock.

"I'm going to make sure you never forget me."

Scaramouche promises, hand wrapping firmly around his dick as it throbs in anticipation to be embraced by you. Lining himself up with your entrance, it was the furthest thing from gentle. Snapping his hips up into you sharply, making you gasp at both the force and the rapid size you had yet to come accustomed to.

Still, he wasn't completely inconsiderate, even if you did feel him throb at the sight of your surprised face. Coming off slowly, he goes in and out of you so kindly you'd think it was an apology for being so rough prior. Though, the sweetness doesn't last as he begins to thrust with intent similar to that of a madman. He didn't know if he was fucking you to the beat of his heart or the other way around. Something was certain though, Scaramouche wanted to ensure you were going to leave stained with his cum, your body holding his essence inside of you. He was going to make sure you needed his help to carry you out of here.

The noise of flesh meeting flesh echoes along the empty halls, the grunts and pleas that leave your throat only echo back to you, like some form of humiliation. You feel your mind slowly lose thought as your body aches in a numbing pleasure. Your moans are choked as breaths get stuck in your throat and you meet his merciless shoves, but the deeper he goes the weaker you grow. Strangely, you wanted it. You wanted to be rendered useless by him. "Deeper- Ah…Go deeper." You murmur, your temple rested against his shoulder, kissing at his collarbone and leaving marks and lipstick traces in its wake.

When he discovered the spot that would make you break, he did not hide or cover up his abuse as his tip kisses your insides frantically in perfect recreation again and again. His palms wrap around your thighs, hoisting you upwards against the dark weakened wooden wall, assaulting your skin like he needed to know how each part of you feels. "You're mine… You hear that? mmn.. You belong to me." The way he pumped through you was like he only had one goal and that's to use you as his toy, getting himself off with your body. "Yours… I'm yours to fill."

He could feel his body beginning to reach its limits and the whimpers he tried to suppress only grew till he couldn't hold them back. The mewls he let out were so soft and vulnerable you'd think it impossible to be coming from someone as cold and ruthless as him.

Only focused on shoving in and out of you, he relishes in his love for how tightly you wrap around him like he is your saviour, what you desire to not leave you. It feels so good he might cum just from the idea that you crave him so. "Haah… You're such a whore. You like when I fuck you like this?" He spits out with venom, though there's no hiding how much he likes being balls deep inside of you, with both your clothes clinging to your sweat-ridden skin.

Scaramouche can feel the knots inside of him threatening to come undone, pushing him to the edge. Not once do his tantalising amethyst eyes part from yours, and for once they looked to hold something comforting within them, appearing warmer.

Maintaining his speed, his muscles tense, hardening when a string of cum shoots out of him with a loud moan that morphs into an almost weakened joyful whimper. His seed fills you to the brim and you bite into his shoulder, attempting to stifle the sound of your moan as your eyes roll back. Scaramouche continues to fuck you as you reach your high, clamping tighter around him and milking him of anything left he has whilst your cum surrounds him in this encompassing sensation of unmatchable heat he would not find elsewhere.

The both of you breathe heavily, exchanging oxygen with your bodies still pressed together like they're glued to one another, and to some part you were with how he seemed to be avoiding pulling out. Your cum mixes together, leaking out of you and down the length of his cock.

Reluctantly, Scaramouche pulls out of you and resists nearly shoving himself back in the moment he loses your warmth. His fingers swipe up the leaking juices, bringing them to your sweet lips. "Open." He orders firmly and when your pretty lips do as such, he shoves his fingers into your mouth and makes you suck on them, your tongue swirling around and in-between his fingers as you taste the saltiness of your mixture.

There's a smirk stuck onto his lips and he doesn't mind the idea of spending another Halloween like this.

[loganelfreeces]

Hi, I’ve been seeing windbreaker stuff on my dash for a bit now. Would you mind telling me about it?

Hello dear Follower and THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME THE CHANCE TO INFO DUMP ABOUT MY NEWEST OBSESSION!

Wind Breaker (Stylised all capitals) is a manga by Satoru Nii, who has written one series before: Danshi Badminton-bu ni Joshi ga Magireteru: Secret Badminton Club, a sports comedy I haven't read so I can't say anything about it. Nii-sensei is a big fan of Tokyo Revengers, a delinquant anime I also haven't watched, but Wind Breaker has been compared to it a bunch because they share a genre.

The manga recently got adapted by studio CloverWorks, who adapted The Promised Neverland, Spy X Family and Black Butler: Public School Arc. The soundtrack was done by one Ryo Takahashi and it is beautiful!

The anime follows the adventures of one Haruka Sakura, who's been bullied in a normal every day Japan his entire life for his completely natural protagonisty looks. As such, he decided the only reasonable response was to become a badass delinquant who don't need no friends to become the King of Furin High School, the country's most famous delinquant high school where fights happen every day and the local area is terrorised all the time.

Except when Sakura arrives, he ends up helping out Tachibana Kotoha when some guys were harassing her and when she thanks him for saving her from these thugs, he does this:

"It's not like I saved you or anything! I just couldn't stand that guy!"

And I have been fucking obsessed with this little Tsundere ever since.

So is everyone else in the town of Makochi, because it turns out that the students of Furin High School have been united under the banner of one Umemiya Hajime.

Umemiya got them all to protect the town from the rival gangs and teams, allowing Makochi to have some peaceful days so every time we see some random extra, they're almost always showering the Furin kids in free food and praise.

And our beloved, adorable Sakura, has almost certainly never been treated with any kindness, so it's beautiful watching how he reacts.

Of course, just because the town is peaceful, doesn't mean there aren't problems. There's no police so, Furin have to protect the town from violent gangs, like:

Shishitoren, the Devotees of Power

KEEL, the bastards who rule with an iron fist of fear

And every random unnamed small gang of mooks who pop up when things get too chill.

Luckily for us, we've got plenty of interesting characters in Bofurin to help Sakura get socialised like the feral kitten that he is and to fight the bad guys!

We've got Nirei Akihiko, the weak but clever guy who knows everything about everyone and has a pretty strong backbone, all things considered. (He is not a new Zenitsu, stop comparing the two)

We've got Suo Hayato, the fan favourite who introduced himself as being "Leonardo Dicpario" and then spent his entire first fight in the anime psycholocally analysing and torturing his opponant.

We've got Sugishita Kyotaro, the silent but zealous Umemiya fanboy who hates Sakura because he still wants to become Top Of The School.

We've got Hiragi Toma, the ever exhausted Dad leader of the Tamon Team and one of Umemiya's 4 Kings, his direct advisors and helpers.

We've got Umemiya Hajime himself, the goofy third year leader of Furin High School who has proclaimed himself everyone's Big Brother and sees everyone in Makochi as part of his family because of his Tragic Backstory.

Plus loads more I do not have the time to get into.

The anime is soooo fun, full of really funny scenes, but also really heart warming ones. It's all about building and being active in your community to make things better for those around you, listening to the people around you to understand them, how to be a good leader and when to stand your ground and when to let others help you.

The manga also has some very strong themes about being yourself around Haruka and an extremely Queer Manga only character who has cameoed in the anime, but hasn't made a proper introduction yet. Tsubakino "Tsubaki-chan" Tasuku.

I won't spoil things too much, but Furin is an All Boy's School and Tsubaki-chan has a very strong personal arc about their clothing choices, hair choices and their feelings for Umemiya. And it's all handled very kindly and sincerely.

Season 2 has been announced for sometime next year while the Manga just hit 150 chapters. I'd highly recommend getting interested, because it very much feels like things are only just getting started for Windbreaker.

Please come be insane about Windbreaker with me.

[yellowbunnydreams]

Mechanised Devotion (Part 3) ~Steve Raglan/William Afton x Female Reader~

~I'm going to cry, you guys are so nice and I'm so ecstatic that people like my writing! I'm having so much fun writing this and so I am going to update as much as I can. Thank you so much for your support guys!~

Tag list!: @ruh--roh-raggy

Part 1 Part 2

CW: Minors DNI, (18+ ONLY), afab reader, legal age gap (Reader- 20's, William - 40's), mention of crimes and violence, blood, mentions of child death (it's FNAF, what did you expect?), past trauma; abusive relationships.

The piece of paper in your hand felt thin and like it would break in the dry wind at any moment. But it had been folded and unfolded so many times in the past day that you weren't entirely surprised and now that it was no longer needed, it felt strange to throw it away.

As you had eaten and left Sparky's the day before, Mr. Raglan had given you a handwritten slip of paper that contained an address in neat but scratchy block capital writing. Somehow when you had stared at it, the neatness and somehow rushed nature of the writing didn't surprise you about Steve Raglan, the few times you had met, he seemed antsy. Like he was always thinking three appointments ahead and was running five behind.

What had surprised you the most, was the careful sketch that had been placed on the bottom of the small slip, of a bear wearing a top-hat and bowtie in a stylised wave. You hadn't asked, but you got the feeling that Steve would be embarrassed if you asked if he had drawn it. Although, looking up at the address in front of you, he had nailed the key identifying feature of the building.

The giant smiling, or at least you assumed smiling, bear waved from the top of the building in an overgrown and broken down neon light. Currently decommissioned in the low light of the growing dark, it felt eerie and empty. But according to the brief overview that Raglan had phoned and given you that afternoon, it was an old kid-pizza place, the owner clung onto it despite the closure and it was now your job to keep it safe from intruders and such. Apparently the animatronics inside were quite rare and expensive, which had led to you wondering why they were left in such a vulnerable place, but it wasn't a question for you to ask and so you fished the keys out of your pocket and undid the lock and chain that kept the front doors sealed against the worst of the damage.

Inside was even eerier, faded and somehow still bright walls and colours with a thick, heavy looking red curtain slap bang on the centre stage at the back of the main dining hall. Peering in, you could see decommissioned arcade machines scattered about and tables laid out as if a party was going to happen the very next morning, despite the heavy dusty cobwebs that laid over the surfaces and between the kiddie sized party hats.

You had to admit, despite having never heard of, or having been to this place called Freddy Fazbear's, you felt somewhat nostalgic.

As tempted as you were to look around, you hefted the heavy backpack on your shoulder and began to walk through the building. Following loosely what Steve had said about where to turn once inside the building, wondering if he would check in on you in the morning. But you shook your head, wondering why he would check on you of all people just because you had started a new job, he would be busy making sure the rest of his clients found a job as she had now done with his help.

Unknowingly, you were being watched. Cameras silently following your figure and focusing on you as you passed through doorways and halls. Navigating towards the back of the building and towards the security office. A silent observer on your discovery.

Steve Raglan sat in his home, in his comfy armchair and sunk into it and with a small bowl of popcorn next to him on a side-table. Headphones plugged into the laptop balanced on his lap as he sat with his tie and shirt off for the first time that day. Finally able to relax in himself, he was pleased that he had managed to clean up so well, and that he had remembered to fix the audio on the cameras too.

He had instructed his creations to be good, but he knew with a smirk that they wouldn't follow his instructions fully. Freddy would probably remain fairly still, as would Chica. But Foxy and Bonnie could be wildcards, or very much the types to follow the letter and not the spirit of the laws he laid down.

It was always exhilarating to him, watching the cameras and seeing the fear coursing through the people he sent into that place. Not many of them made it out alive, or if they did, he quickly put an end to that.

He barely heard the door open and saw the vague shadow of the person coming in behind in, glancing away from the screen to see his daughter Vanessa standing behind him. Still in her cop uniform and looking tired, bags under her eyes betraying what would have been a pretty face. She looked like her mother, Steve thought, before he turned his attention back to the camera with cold indifference towards his family member.

"Dad, you really roped in somebody else?" She asked, noticing his headphones in and speaking up. Wincing as she noticed his shoulders tensing before they dropped again, reaching up and taking a headphone out to look coldly at Vanessa. His sharp features contorted into a scowl, looking decidedly even more unfriendly without his signature glasses on.

"None of your fucking business Vanessa." He spat, raising an eyebrow before mockingly pushing his bottom lip out in a pout. "You're lucky I tell them to leave you be when you decide to interfere again with my work. Maybe next time you won't be so lucky." It wasn't a question, it was a statement and Vanessa felt the chill go down her spine as her head dropped, rubbing her hands one over another.

"Sorry dad, you're right. Did you want me to go tomorrow night and see what they're doing?" She knew the drill by now, and Steve Raglan as he was acting as smiled in a cold, calculating manner. Reaching out and patting her shoulder in a slow, heavy manner, condescending her for her obedience.

"We'll see what's left in the morning, Vanny."

She hated when he called her that name, the pit of her stomach sank as she glanced at the young woman on the screens and felt the growing dread that she might be the last person, bar one, to witness her alive as Steve Raglan turned back to his screen with an unabated sense of thrill for what was about to unfold.

You had finally made it into the office and managed to locate the breaker that Raglan has mentioned. Throwing it on, you were pleasantly surprised as the seemingly ancient security system whirred to life and flickered on. Monitors showing various cameras throughout the restaurant and staff-only halls, a small game-system looking board in front of them giving you an idea that that was how you controlled the cameras. A VCR and tape attached to a TV with your name hastily scrawled on in the same blocky handwriting caught your attention, making you smile as you popped the tape in and lowered the volume. Listening in the background to the introduction the being the new guard at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza.

You missed the tape glitching to Freddy's opening maw and thick ichor pouring from it for a moment as you turned to reach into your backpack. Pulling out a water bottle, some snacks and a few college textbooks that you decided you might as well work through whilst you were on shift.

Plugging in your headphones, quietly turning on some music so that you could hear the general noise around you, you began to work. Glancing up at the monitors between penciling your thoughts on your texts and solving puzzles contained within with the goal of understanding some, or if not all of the content before you.

Head down and focused as you missed the glint of a hook moving the purple starred curtain a few inches and a glowing eye staring out at the camera from within the resturant.

~~

Raglan suddenly came to with a start, jerking the laptop off of his lap and grunting as he darted forwards to catch it. He wasn't as young as he used to be, but he was certainly still lithe and fast for a man of his stature. Almost unnaturally so. Sitting back, he wiped at his eyes with his large hands and swore as he looked around for the headphones that had fallen out of his ears as he had apparently been bored to sleep by your lack of action.

Moving the mousepad, the screen jumped to life and he quickly entered the password once again. Eyes bleary as he wondered if you were still being a boring little victim. He had expected something more...Well, he wasn't entirely sure.

Most in your position died in their sleep as they dozed off on the job, some died fighting, some just curled into a ball and cried as they were torn apart by the animatronics. But he paused as he realised the office was empty, your chair pushed back from the desk and books strewn across it haphazardly.

His heart beat rapidly, excitedly and perhaps a little fearfully as he pressed the numbers to try and find out where you were. Wondering if he had missed the main event, or if perhaps you had gone to investigate a noise. He cursed as his eyes rapidly darted across the screen, thick fingers trembling in anticipation as he tracked you down silently. Sighing as he found you again, before noticing where you were and what was occurring on the screen with a sick grin.

You had backed into a corner, hiding like a scared rabbit with your heart beating quickly enough in your chest that you weren't too sure you could distinguish between each beat. Hands clutching onto a section of table leg that you had found and picked up as an improvised weapon during your run through the restaurant.

About ten minutes ago you had looked up from your books, to find the purple curtains of Pirate's cove pulled back and revealing the 'out of order' sign and an empty space. Cautiously, you had ventured out, the hairs slowly standing on the back of your neck as you explored the main area.

It was too silent.

Until the sound of heavy metal footsteps came from behind you, and you turned slowly, watching as an animatronic that looked like some sort of dilapidated fox with an eyepatch and a wicked hook came from around the corner of the hall and spotted you. Staring at each other for a moment with his eyes piercing the half-light in the main area. Then the jaw started to open with a quiet creaking, the eye moving from a whitish yellow glow to a more deep orange as it started moving towards you again. Picking up speed as it went.

Suddenly you bolted, running anywhere, somewhere into the bowels of the building as the heavy footsteps continued running after you. Somehow, you had managed a hairpin turn and found yourself pressed into a corner with a table leg to defend yourself again an animatronic that was about six feet tall. You wanted to reach out, call for help, but something told you that you would bring more people into danger if you did so.

Heavy footsteps approached towards your hiding space, making the ground and small dusty objects along the counter vibrate with the weight of the heavy 'thunk..thunk...thunk'. Fighting back tears, you brandished your weapon as a shadow loomed over the end of the counter, you planned to at least try fighting, not that logically you knew it would do anything against metal and fur.

Around the corner, a somewhat familiar bear face appeared, eyes glowing in the darkness, top hat and bowtie on as it looked at you with furrowed eyebrows. A soft sob escaped your lips as you pressed yourself further into the corner, watching as the animatronic stared unblinkingly into your soul.

For some reason, like a scared child, you pressed your finger to your lips in a shushing motion. Body shaking and feeling as if you were going to pass out then and there. Maybe it would have been a small mercy against the heavy metal bodies that were about to end your life.

But to your surprise, the bear's eyebrows raised in a somewhat surprised expression. Head tilting one way then another as his ears wiggled. Bringing up one hand slowly, it carefully curled the fingers on that hand and returned the shushing motion. Standing up suddenly with a whirr of gears and pistons and turning around. Standing still at the end of the counter, you realise after a moment that it seemed to be blocking you from view.

Although you weren't entirely sure why, you sobbed silently with relief.

Taking some paper from nearby and some broken dusty crayons, you began to draw to try and calm your nerves. Or maybe leave a pictogram of what happened to you should you not make it through the next few hours of your shift. It was almost 6am, you just had to survive a little longer, you hoped at least.

After a few attempts, you ended up drawing the bear in front of you, it was crude and more kid-like than anything an adult's drawing style. But your hands shook so hard you didn't dare attempt to put any detail into it apart from large blocks.

After what felt like forever, the clocks in the building chimed, and it seemed like the animatronic in front of you stiffened. As if responding to programming that dictated it had somewhere to be in that precise moment.

Crawling forwards, you managed to get behind the bear and press the drawing into it's hand. Seeming to surprise it as it lifted the barely articulate limb to look at the crude drawing of yourself being protected by the bear in the corner. It seemed to pause before raising it's eyebrows in what you assumed was a happy position and silently closed its eyes and raised its head back as if it was laughing. Ears twitching wildly before it headed back towards the main stage. Inadvertantly revealing you to Steve Raglan's hungry stare once more.

He looked at the unscathed woman stood trembling in the middle of the floor. A bewildered look on her face as well as the faint sound of her hyperventilation filling his ears. It would have been a delicious sound for him to savour if he wasn't overcome with a flood of emotions. Clenching his large hands into fists on the arms of the chair, he gritted his teeth and stared at the screen.

"Oh, you...You are going to wish they had killed you when I'm done with you now." He gritted through his teeth, chuckling darkly and feeling the slight chill of adrenaline searing up his spine and making the dark room darken more in his vision. Licking his lips as he stared at you on the screen, unaware that you had volunteered yourself as prey for an even more dangerous predator.

[yescking]

little avenhill drabble under the cut. about strong drinks and strange feelings. you were warned

The pub they're in is still loud despite the late hour.

They should've left a hot minute ago, but that robot realised the house is still serving the drinks he thought were out of market forever, so they stayed for a few shots more. It's a pretty small and cramped place with live (not that good) music and suspicious contingent. Aventurine has been in places far worse, but he's not very used to them nowadays. Usually he goes to expensive restaurants and bars with slot machines where rich men wait to spend their money and their honor — and he lets them. He rarely goes to these places to actually spend time with a good drink.

Boothill offers a nice opportunity to do so.

They sit beside one of the few private tables with music blasting and folk yelling somewhere far to the center of the place. The hot air swims through and stays on the back of their throats. The bottles of the strongest whiskey Aventurine has ever tasted lay on and under the table, filling his nose with notes of oak and peat. Maybe he indeed did more shots that he should've.

The guy beside him seems just a bit tipsy - maybe it's his years of experience or just a metal heart inside a metal chest. He's babbling something about the drinks, and the guns, and the shit vocalist on the stage, and Aventurine can't really strain his brain into sorting his usual unique speech and figuring out the swears hidden under that damn beacon. He just looks at him, blinking slowly. Both of their hats sit beside eachother, hanged on the empty bottles.

It's already dark out, and the place doesn't really provide much light either, so they sit in soft darkness, hinted with orangy illumination from the stylised neon lamps. Maybe it's the humidity, maybe it's the strangely intimate atmosphere the two share, maybe it's the alcohol softening his brain and his body, but he feels a sting of deja vu on the back of his head. It almost makes him go on autopilot.

He watches the beauty marks move under Boothill's left eye. A strange yet familiar thought rolls in his mouth. It blurts itself out before he has the time to chew on it.

"Kiss me," falls from his lazy tongue, spattering across the table. Silence.

He doesn't really process what he just said until he hears a deafening laughter by his side.

"Who, you!? Naw, brother, you gotta be kiddin'! Yer fancy lil' face is too soft for me mouth of steel! Who in the right mind would get close to that poisonous sharp tongue of yers anyway, amiright? Hahaha, ye sweet talkin' snake... Hey, what's with da face? Hey!?"

The world around Aventurine moves and blurs until he feels wetness on his cheeks and a teardrop on his glove. Boothill shifts closer to him while he tries to rub his eyes back into normal state, ruining his little makeup alongside the movement.

It's weird. He didn't even mean that request and it's not like he's afraid of rejection. Well, maybe he's used to being wanted like that — physically — but surely he didn't expect Boothill the Galaxy Ranger of all people to like him. He didn't even want the kiss!

The sharp pain in his chest somehow signals the opposite. He gets tangled in his own tray of conflicted feelings, unable to think and act fast as always.

"Hey, are ye actually cryin'!? Fudge, were ye honest about that? Calm down, man!" He moves his hand in front of Aventurine's eyes which makes him feel even dizzier. "I didn't mean that last part, y'now lil old me! Gah... Do ye really want it, ye crazy scoundrel?" Aventurine doesn't have the time to answer.

Boothill moves his ice cold metal hand to brush off Aventurine's bangs and pecks him right in the middle of his forehead. His lips are thin, rough and a bit sticky from the whiskey. Its more of a slap than a kiss. Aventurine somehow feels content from that.

"Now ye drunk sweetie satisfied? Makin' me do crazy stuff for a prank, unbelievable..." He moves away, ruffling Aventurine's hair at the last second.

The treacherous tears stop. He sees a hint of a blush on Boothill's face — its not red, rather darker and colder shade of his skin tone instead. Not surprising with the blue blood running his wires. Aventurine giggles and downs his last shot for the evening.

[foreststepp]

OKAY okay so… i saw what is going with all this drama about racism around Burakh fan arts and… what the fuck guys

yes, someone drew him like a huge strong man and it looks a little bit strange BUT

doing shit like this?

so, for the first. COME ON. you are like the Inquisition in the Middle Ages. “oh look they did something wrong LETS PUT THEM ON A FIRE”. please, this is not how criticism works. and this is not how you should explain people what’s wrong they did.

secondly…. this artist is new here. they just started to draw smtnhg about patho. SOME OF US WAS THERE WHERE WE DRAW BURAKH LIKE HUGE BULL FUCK OFF

thirdly. i am SURE they didn’t mean anything racist (PLEASE where the hell did you even see this???) it’s just… stylisation?? well, maybe a little bit unsuccessful since it made people react like this (я бы даже сказала «раз уж это вызвало столько бурления говна» да)

OH AND YES you can say anything to me I DONT GIVE A FUCK

i am the one of the national minorities of russia, JUST LIKE steppe guys AND JUST LIKE Burakh I KNOW the fuck am i talking about

maybe we will decide by ourselves what is racist and what is not here? you don’t know how this works in our situation. and your experience with racism about your nations doesn’t work here. we have our own experience with this

спасиба что пришли на мой тэд толк и даже если ино фд предаст меня за этот пост анафеме мне похуй абсолютно у меня как бы еще и вк есть

[thelaithlyworm]

Actually I thought I'd talk about my podfic covers, just a little bit. Because I can't draw for shit -- what I do is digital collage, sliding resources around on the screen until they look good -- but they're not un-adjacent to art either and I liked how some recent design choices worked out.

Sometimes it really is easy. I find a nice shot on Pixabay or some other digital commons, slap a title on it, and go. Sometimes I just need to trim a little, or run something through a funky filter:

[ID Cover of "Precious Jade", featuring Xiaoge's head and torso but in black and white, and reversed, so he looks like crystal against a black background. End ID]

Or fill in some blank space because the pic doesn't match the frame of an album cover:

[ID Cover of "I Have Seen Troy", featuring the painting “Hélène sur les remparts de Troie” by Gustave Moreau. A paler column on the left, where the title runs vertically, was made from an enlarged detail of the painting. End ID]

Sometimes I'm trying to turn This

into This:

[ID Two photos, one of the actor Bai Yu in a blue jacket next to a screenshot of him playing a long-haired Zhao Yunlan, followed by the cover of "Likeness", with a 'painting' of the god Kunlun, his turquoise robes and long hair tumbling about him. End ID]

Sometimes it's... kinda both?

For "Ghost at the Threshold" I got so super lucky with Pixabay searching. The fic involves two people in a kind of protective dreamscape of camping while trapped behind the heavy Bronze Doors of canon. I lucked into a camping scene -- with a guy in a black hoodie, no less! -- and a stock image of a gate with the centre helpfully cleaned in about five minutes.

[ID Two images, one of the ornamental arch of a stone door with a blank in the centre, the other a photo of two people under a tent-awning, chatting comfortably as smoke from a campfire rises between them. End ID]

“People Camping Tent” by 철민 박 – https://pixabay.com/photos/people-camping-tent-lifestyle-4817872/ (Pixabay Licence) “Doorway Palace Architecture”  – https://pixabay.com/illustrations/doorway-palace-architecture-gate-1420437/ (Pixabay Licence)

A bit of tinkering and sliding around, and I got a lovely shot of that brightly coloured scene shining out from its dark frame:

[ID The camping scene shown above, slightly stylised, bright in the frame of the stone arch. End ID]

Only problem is, I needed to put a title on that and every time I tried I lost that gorgeous inky black and distracted from that vibrant wilderness scene. The wilderness was supposed to be the focus!!

So I experimented a bit with repeating the gate element to make a corridor to draw the eye up to the upper right quadrant even in a busier image. And since I was doing that anyway, an option presented itself for dealing with the text:

[ID Similar image to above, but the door element now looks like a corridor and the title "Ghost at the Threshold" trails from upper right to lower left, following the line of corridor. End ID]

I still get a lot of that inky black and I got the text to marry with the corridor, suggesting steps going downward.

Design was perpetrated.

I'm feeling very proud.

[that-sure-is-a-person]

Bake off 2024 Bread week!

- it’s here the week that often devine’s how contestants do for the rest of the season

- can’t beat Alice and Noel puns

- theses chalanges look like some classics

- THATS ALOT OF GOCHJANG DYLAN

- for those who are unacquainted cooking is art, baking is science and bread is luck, if the environment isn’t right it won’t work, my uni flat is great for proving bread but my home is terrible

- these flavours all sound amazing

- Nelly scares me a bit

- the tent has a notoriously iffy climate to adjust for with baking

- I love Noel, I want to meet him… I also want to steal his clothes

- the first Paul pat

- come on girl avoid the curse

- Paul will always be hyper critical during break week

- LETS GOOO DYLAN !!!! Achieve your dreams!!

- I’m suprised Paul hasn’t had gochujang but thinking back to his Japan show not really, he was so unadventurous and close minded with a lot of the new flavours

- oooh a demo in technical that’s new

-this is just a fishtail braid

- Oooh that would be good with a bowl of dip in the middle

- with kneading it’s all about texture and feeling the change

- smart Dylan practicing with the cling film

- also messing up with the plait causes overworking the dough and will cause issues with the rise

- none of them made it long enough

- Andy had a mare but pulled it back expertly

- oh Dylan my love

- have we had a cornucopia bread show stopper before? Someone might have made a cornucopia for a showstopper but it wasn’t the stict brief

- time for some spacemangment

- all I can think is hunger games with the cornucopia

- you get such a sense of people through there bakes

- Dylan please Marry me (/jk)

- I love seeing the relationships and dynamic build between contestants and the hosts

- why would you make bagels mate, I know you make them a lot but the tent isn’t the best for those kind of bakes

- come on guys

- these are all so stunning

- love the stylisation of the Devon cornucopia

- Dylan’s presentation is amazing

-Andy my man, you cursed yourself with the hats

- WELL DESERVED DYLAN!!

- I’m not suprised johns gone

- now the classic opening 3 are done we enter the Wild West of weeks

-FUCKING CARAMEL WEEK!!!! YALL ARE FUCKED WITH THE HUMIDITY

[ambyandony]

its melone

heres monster au melone & some of the concept sketches for his sigil. yes he actually looks like this .

this was supposed to be short and a quick summary but then i started saying things so... monster au loredump!! with a couple of visuals!!

hes a cambion (so half-human and half-demon) and for some reason people seem to think its his fault he is the kid of a demon as if he had a fuckin say in that?

hes actually not as bad as hes generally made out to be (he kinda wishes people would jump to conclusions a little less often when they hear hes a cambion because it's pretty annoying). I mean he's pretty strange and likes to weird people out but . He's not actually as bad as people assume.

I'd say most likely hes also got some real stress from his whole situation and some shit thats happened to him (almost definitely some of it is thanks to him being the kid of a demon). Whatever background / general circumstances he has, it's given him either some kind of trauma or some other various psychological-emotional issues that he probably tries to mask by his habit of being offputting just to mess with people. not totally sure what specifically is up with him but theres definitely a lot going on there that he would prefer not to discuss

but hes still a little bastard and i still want to hit him with a rolled up newspaper. di molto THIS, bitch *smacks him upside the head*

anyways,

physiology

Melone is actually the most unique in terms of known infernals in monster au insofar; unlike trish, diavolo, and abbacchio (kinda), Melone falls under the category of 'head-horned' and 'pencil-tailed' (or 'wire-tailed').

Most infernals seen in the Monster AU sorta resemble D&D style tieflings; Trish, Diavolo and Abbacchio are all considered face-horned and slope-tailed and are also wingless. Though Abbacchio is 'smooth-tailed' and Trish and Diavolo are 'fur-tailed', their construction is essentially the same.

Melone has a semblance to the more simplified / stylised pop media depictions of demons, yknow, like the little devil on the shoulder guy, little horns on the top of the head, thin pointy tail, tiny wings, etc. These kinds of demons do exist, but they are actually incredibly rare, on account of their physiological construction being pretty uhhh... not the best . (IM NOT CALLING YOU 'GOOD BOY' THIS BODY STRUCTURE IS SHIT!!!!!)

the wings are exclusively aesthetic, (yes they are actually they (unsurprisingly) can't actually even remotely support his weight (nature takes pity on these fuckers and usually these demons are able to semi-innately use minor levitation instead) and he can barely move them either, since they're barely connected to him if at all.

The horn placement doesn't really have an evolutionary bearing (face-horned infernals seem to be more common for some reason or another, but head-horned infernals aren't too rare); it's more just that the size of the horns that are seen on his specific breed/species are pretty much useless and seemingly have little to no function other than making hats hard to wear and getting in the way when they're trying to brush their hair.

his ears are pointed but short; whether this has to do with his hybridism or not isn't entirely clear, but they're observed to have a limited range of independent motion (he can move them somewhat). Demons with longer ears can also often achieve some level of independent motion; how much can vary, but generally, it ranges between only being able to twitch them to having either up-and-down motion or outward-inward motion, but never both. Which type of ear movement a demon has is often based on the natural position of the ears or the 'function' that the specific demon has.

Melone's ears, however, despite being shorter, have the same quality of hearing and a much wider range of motion, having both up-down and forward-backwards movement, likely owing to the muscles and cartilage that would have contributed to ear length—instead being structured to facilitate the expanded range of motion. or some shit

the construction of a pencil-tailed demon's tail is frail and lacks power, yet seems to be important for the flow of magic through their bodies. Unfortunately for them, though the tails can be somewhat prehensile, they are pretty easily chopped off due to the bones inside them being light and fragile and the tails themselves being very thin. Slope-tailed infernals, on the other hand, have much sturdier construction, thicker and stronger bones, more flesh to protect the bones, and some species also have tough scales.

magic

Melone has access to a range of magic as an infernal cryptian; almost every demon in human society has access to illusory magic out of necessity. His illusory magic is by default active on himself, but through magic development and practice, he can also use it beyond himself, though his illusory magic seems unusually (unusual for demons in general, anyway... not necessarily unusual for his kind) limited to only working on living things, people specifically.

He mostly keeps it confined to himself, but also often extends it to Ghiaccio since Ghiaccio isn't a magic user and has trouble with his partial transformations happening near-constantly (in reaction to his emotional states and sometimes just randomly). The auxiliary magic is pretty much the thing that best helps Ghiaccio with human passing. He hates his ailuranthropy and hates exhibiting it, so aside from just keeping Ghiaccio safe in general through helping with human-passing, it also makes the poor bastard feel a bit better since his ailuranthropy isn't showing.

Melone may push his luck and test Ghiaccio's (and Risotto's) patience with the use of a cheap laser pointer but at least he still cares. (the laser pointer 'prank' perpetuated by Melone and Formaggio irritates Risotto to the point where (to quote myself, from an earlier post:) the members of the team are explicitly told, sternly, by risotto, not to carry and/or use laser pointers around the hideout anymore, because the laser pointers’ literal only use is making Ghiaccio accidentally break the furniture and they frankly can’t afford it (risotto vc) "i do not care how fucking funny you think it is we don’t have the funds for the potential collateral")

As mentioned, Melone also has use of levitative abilities. which he naturally over-uses because it's fun and awesome to be able to freely float around with the exertion of little to no physical effort. he frequently hovers a bit and has a tendency to like. recline mid-air you know the sort. Every so often, if he's particularly tired, he can, somehow, fall asleep in mid-air.

in particular, due to his species / breed plus his demihumanity, he can't really use offensive magic—or things such as aurafire or flares—aside from using very weak projections in desperate situations but it tends to drain him quickly and doesn't do much damage.

regarding his concentration of mana / magic and its flow through him;

Like many inherently-magical creatures, Melone needs to have a proper manaflow for the sake of his own health.

mana and mana exhaustion monster au lore side tangent

For creatures that are magical in nature—I'm gonna call those magicrypts (magic cryptians) to make this a bit quicker—they rely on manaflow to live just as much as bloodflow and airflow—assuming they even need either of those. Actually, the reason that it's often hard to kill demons and magicrypt in general without utilising their weaknesses is that if they start suffering blood loss (asphyxiation, too, sometimes), they can supplement it with their manaflow, which keeps them alive despite exsanguination ( / asphyxiation ). Stand Users are also supernaturally vigorous which may have some relation to the flow of mana even for non-mage humans.

They are always, or almost always, circulating mana, and they must be able to replenish their supply of it so they don't run out. Most beings do not naturally produce it on their own, though, and instead gain it through mana absorption which has various methods / types. Often, creatures that need mana to survive have a way to stockpile / store it for later use, which facilitates the use of 'actual magic'—magic is kinda a synonym of mana, but can also mean magic that's 'used', castmagic (I don't like the term 'spell', it's too specific).

A magicrypt without mana storing capacity (very rare) has a lesser capacity for castmagic, unless they draw the mana for the casting directly from their environment which is incredibly hard to do, especially in such a short amount of time—and especially when the mana is converted directly into castmagic without pre-conversion in the body, wherein a magicrypt's manaflow naturally converts the inbound mana into the most efficient, practical, or usable form—so, casting magic like this has a high risk of backfire.

As a little piece of trivia, because it's a radiation of magical energy, if a magic-reliant monster suddenly loses too much and they can't replenish, they will drain their own aura into mana just to prolong their own survival for just a little while longer.

Melone has a typical construction that facilitates storing mana and building up an extra supply of it for use without disrupting his vital primary manaflow. If he ever were to run out of mana completely, Melone would most likely fall severely ill, and eventually die soon after his aura starts fading, if somehow he wasn't able to restore his manaflow before then.

It also should be noted—there is a minor caveat for someone such as Melone when it comes to mana exhaustion:

... as a Stand User, his soul's energy (which is, for all intents and purposes, a form of mana) is manifested as an entity—a Stand—and, consequently, Baby Face is essentially a mass of concentrated energy. If the body exhausts all mana, isn't replenishing, and has already drained its aura's mana as a last-ditch substitute... well, obviously, the body is gonna start pretty much straight-up metabolising the Stand into magical energy, which is incredibly hard to recover from, assuming the person even manages to survive after that point.

Popular to contrary belief, most demons probably have souls. Also all Stand Users have souls (unless in a very specific kind of special case) because their Stands 'are' their souls.

While having proper blood and oxygen flow/supply seems like it should mean he would be fine just surviving off of that, especially given his half-humanity—which does allow him to do this for a while—Melone still cannot survive without mana... at least, certainly not without likely feeling he'd rather be dead instead, because any survival past mana exhaustion is pretty agonising; and also... as stated, after total loss of manaflow and exhaustion of a Stand User's aura, the, like... magic 'respiratory system' instinctively starts absorbing the Stand and using it as mana, which... kind of destroys the psyche? like, that's basically the body obliterating its own soul. after that point youre just. fucked. but—basically, it's unlikely for anyone to survive mana exhaustion once it gets to the point of magically cannibalising their Stand (kinda like how you're fucked once rabies becomes symptomatic), and if they do, there's a strong chance they will never recover anyway.

Circumstances differ, but the conversion of the Stand into mana cannot be undone. Not really, anyway, but if a piece of the Stand remains in its original form, there's a slim chance it could be restored, though this would be hard; and most notably of all, the loss of the Stand is like the loss of the Soul, and a loss of the Soul, especially in this way, directly damages the psyche, which leaves the sufferer as basically a 'shell of their former selves'. While they may be able to function and live, their personality will be vastly different, if they have a detectable personality left at all.

back to talking about melone

For demons, or at least demons of Melone's type, their tails are (essentially) organs for mana intake of various sorts, and also sort of contain a mana 'artery' of sorts as all or most manaflow is "attached" to it. So if a demon of that sort were to lose their tail, they might be unable to replenish their manaflow, and would probably start 'bleeding' magic likely to the point of quick mana exhaustion and eventual death (as above).

Melone's tail, though it tends to mainly move either expressively or absentmindedly (like with most tailed monsters), often is seen pointed towards the ground or resting against it, which he claims is because that's how he collects magical energy.

It's actually not the most effective way of magic absorption for him, because of his species type. His demon half is most likely 'animasugent' (or maybe manasugent I haven't decided yet); so would primarily use 'sugent' absorption, or 'sapping'—basically, he's meant to drain energies from others and then convert them into his own manaflow—rather than the environmental absorption he claims to do. Sugent absorption is presumably what he (the demon part of him, rather) is cryptophysiologically 'designed' to perform. But he's honestly—despite what others' assumptions would likely have you believe—not a big fan of the 'traditional' method even when sugent absorption would be quicker and more effective for him, so he relies mostly on the environmental absorption and just does it more often to compensate.

Alternatively, he can also do lunar absorption—collecting magical energy from the moon, which is known to be a major source of magical energy for Earth as a whole. This pretty much just entails going outside at night and having access to the moonlight.

There's a very small problem to this method, and it's that Melone is one of the unfortunate (few? many? hard to say) who are susceptible to moonsickness. Effectively every cryptian and/or mage has a particular threshold for mana exposure tolerance. Moonsickness is, to put it simply, what happens when that threshold is passed in regards to the moon. It's a bit awkward because it's a very general term that could also refer to a few specific things, but generally, moonsickness is a 'magical' illness that occurs with overexposure to the moon and/or its magical energy.

It's because the moon and moonlight are arguably the most powerful sources of magical energy on Earth (it's something about the moon itself that makes the sunlight suddenly become magical upon being reflected off its surface—sunlight is not inherently magical in most ways that aren't related to Hamon) and have their own 'kind' of magical energy, lunar mana, and some people can have different tolerances for terrestrial mana vs lunar mana, which is why moonsickness is so prevalent. So a being who can use magic just fine, such as Melone, can still be pretty sensitive to the moon's energy.

The exact symptoms of moonsickness are kind of dependent, there seem to be different 'kinds' of moonsickness, or it affects people differently based on certain factors. It can affect the same person in different ways if the conditions are 'right'.

Some sufferers of moonsickness suffer it like an actual physical illness, usually experiencing nausea, terrible headaches, fever, congestion, etc. like, sometimes people just get the fucking flu from the moon.

Some sufferers have a sort of overflow upon being hypercharged from the moon's energy, and despite being too full of energy, they display the exact opposite; they suddenly become weak and fatigued, lose all their strength, and oftentimes, they briefly faint or collapse.

Some sufferers are afflicted with magical malfunction—either their abilities don't work, don't work properly, backfire, or just straight-up go haywire (this is common in children with magical inclinations).

Finally, some moonsick individuals slip into lunacy, a violent and/or incoherent state where the sufferer is likely to endanger themselves and others. Lunacy is most often seen in zooanthropes, but other cryptians can also suffer from it.

Melone's symptoms vary on the day. He can do lunar absorption if he's careful or finds a balance, but he generally stays out of moonlight. At my current concept, on the Full Moon, I figure he loses all magic ability (and the loss of power lingers into the following morning, probably, like a magic hangover) but Melone probably spends a good portion of the night making sure Ghiaccio isn't about to go insane anyway (the full moon seems to be the one time that he fully transforms, so he's usually in a lot of pain which naturally pisses him off) . not 100% on that tho

alright ill shut up now hope you enjoyed the side tangent ciao <3

[owlyfisher]

shrimp emoji review

apple: 9/10

nice anatomical accuracy and big autism eyes. appreciate the super long whiskers, v accurate! but it looks like he only has one whisker. tad goofy for that. also weird wiggly stuff on the rostrum idk what they were trying to capture w that

google: 10/10

ADORABLE!!!!!! cutest guy ever. love the stylisation. yes good shrimp

samsung: 6/10

he's accurate but Weird. textured like cheese. spikey ass rostrum. he scares me

microsoft: 7/10

very simple but still Shrimpy! weird colouration though, that's not really possible. a decent shrimp

whatsapp: 7.5/10

goofy smoothed rostrum but at least there's a point. legs are also goofy but autistic eyes are accurate. appreciate him

twitter also discord: -1000000/10

Bad. where is his rostrum. why are his legs so stumpy, that man cannot swim. NO segmentation, no articulation, this shrimp is dead. whiskers are goofy too. awful to look at

facebook: 8/10

and why he pink? raw chicken breast kinda guy. body shape is very good and accurate, dynamic and unique pose highly appreciated (the others are all curly boys which is nice but boring). more of a mantis shrimp body shape but still very cool. cannot get over the colour and texture though. why

lg: 9.5/10

fantastic shrimp. this is a super accurate and loveable guy. not quite autism bc no eye shine, that would make this a perfect shrimp.

joypixels (<-idk what that is): 8/10

bit flat and they gave him an anteater nose. whiskers curl a bit weird. HOWEVER i am obsessed with the legs. look at that beautiful segmentation. those are Shrimp Legs 100%. love it

[taraljc]

I don't know if it was just that he blew out his voice during all the press for series 3 but Otto Farrant's just so soft-spoken here. It makes me want to cuddle him and give him mug after mug of tea with honey and tell him it's all right he can take his time. But I really do love how both he and Brenock are so articulate about both the series and the challenges of adapting a beloved MG series for live action and sort of the overall shape of the story over the course of three series.

Like it's very obvious that this was not a case of we're getting cancelled so let's pull out all the stops. like they structured this show very specifically. they chose which books to adapt very specifically to tell exactly the story that they wanted to tell. and looking at Guy Burt's television pedigree it's like this is the guy who did The Bletchley Circle. This is the kind of storytelling you get when you get somebody you know with a fucking BAFTA (no offense to Anthony Horowitz).

Yes there are elements that are still very childish like the mustache twirling villains who wear exclusively black and white and a lot of statement jewellery.

I mean we are talking about a series where in the first series the bad guy was literally a Nazi who cloned himself and raised his clones to replace a generation of nepo babies with the intention of committing mass murder and restarting society with the 1%.

But the approach that they took was still very grounded and very practical and tightly focused on the relationships. I think a lot of that has to do with almost like a backlash against the super slick super polished Bond franchise, and the very frenetic very stylised Bourne franchise.

This is where my love of The Bletchley Circle sort of bleeds through because you had a story about this group of women across the entire social strata completely different backgrounds completely different lives who worked together and were fucking war heroes and just expected to fade back into their pre-war lives as mothers and sisters and daughters and secretaries and there was no recognition of the importance of the work they did and there was no expectation that the experiences they had would in fact impact them for the rest of their lives. and that the reason they were drawn back together 10 years later wasn't just to solve a murder but it was because only among their peers could they be their truest selves because they had lived through this extraordinary experience that nobody outside of it could truly understand. and it made their lives as wives and mothers and daughters seem alien and false and strange in a way like they were lying every day because they had signed the Official Secrets Act and they had accepted that that part of their lives was over.

And the way this extends to Alex Rider for me is it's only in the first series that Alex is actually being run as an asset by the security services with oversight. The second series he is struggling with post-traumatic stress and trying to prove to everyone around him that he is not delusional. that in fact there is something going on and he is struggling with people who want to put him back in a little box that no longer fits.

Everyone wants him to go back to being just a kid, even Jack who knows him best. But it doesn't work that way. and she knows it doesn't work that way. because yes having the opportunity to just be a kid is a gift that she is desperate for him to have, but the price of knowing what he knows means he can never truly regain that innocence he's since lost.

I love that by the time we get to the third series that Tom and Kyra and Jack are very much working as Team Rider to support him and protect him and present a united front to the Department.

Because of the very deliberate choices they made when adapting the series and which novels they chose and which facets of the story they focused on that they're quite serious about this being the end of the first chapter. And that someday we may get more Alex Rider if they are able to secure the funding from overseas partners. Definitely not a reboot but a continuation.

Because most of the things standing in the way of getting more seasons of a show like this comes down to securing the funding from global partners and international distribution. and it would be really cool to see them come back in a couple of years and do more novels. Just pick up with these characters a few years on you know at uni or in Kyra's case not necessarily at uni, and yes the entire series of novels really relies heavily on the gimmick of Alex Rider: child spy.

Of course considering that I'm the same age as Alex's parents, I'm always going to look at him and be like that young man is a child. He is an infant. But let's face it a 19-year-old super spy with a kind of training and pedigree he has is still a gimmick and is still marketable.

and it's abundantly clear that even if Alex were to try to move past his life as an MI6 asset there's no guarantee that his old life wouldn't come and find him. I mean, Syl is still out there, as are the Point Blanc clones.

(I do think if you are a fan of Alex Rider you would very very much enjoy Spooks however you should know going in to not get attached to anyone. This is abundantly clear in the first series where one of the agents is killed rather violently by having her head shoved into a deep fat fryer. So you know from the get-go that being in the credits does not guarantee your safety. But by the end of the series, they seem determined to find fun and creative ways to kill everyone you've ever cared about and curse Harry Pearce to an eternal undending existence of nothing but pain. and that is perhaps as you might guess not as much fun to watch as you think.)