#It's supposed to kinda be an irony thing

[s735]

Here's my goober!!

He's my only Transformers OC at the moment, so I am quite attatched to the guy.

Here's some old full body pics from December

[ominous-feychild]

The sheer amount of "it's almost like they can {exactly what they can do}..." "jokes" I want to have the characters unknowingly make is ridiculous. Like, they're so close to figuring it out! But they're like "nah, I've never heard of magic like that, that's ridiculous!"

And little do they know.

Seriously, though, how much is too much? Can I please sneak it in, like, a hundred times without people getting suspicious? Please?

I think I'm soooooo funny with it, obviously.

PS... read the tags.

@darkandstormydolls @illarian-rambling

[13eyond13]

Nooo, that's what the books are like tbh

[denkryn]

Thinking about how people get older and they change but it’s like for the worse lol

[exhabigou]

really digging the sims 4 at the moment. but am very disappointed that dive lots are not a thing. ( and no, rabbitholes are unacceptable )

[shmistarkiller]

so. i'mma be honest. when i first saw a post that acknowledged yord & jecki as having been potential love interests for osha (before qimir killed them), i was a little surprised. like yeah i got that she & yord had history but nothing in particular signaled to me that either of them had those sorts of feelings for the other. (like honestly i felt a lil smth between osha & fillik more than yord)

and jecki, well, i wasn't really inclined to think of her as a potential love interest given that despite dafne being 19, that makeup to make her look like another species straight up made her look about 12 to me. like i knew she probably wasn't quite *that* young, and her age seems to be ambiguous, but sol literally saying 'she was a child' didn't help matters.

[ravegore]

Ok now that my rage is mostly past i am in more lalaland. Glad to put my energy towards being happy and improving my life with my friends that i love and trust

[punctuation-completionist]

since today is punctuation day, i figured i'd talk with you about my favorite punctuation that is sadly not in unicode

(my apologies if these crop weird)

these six marks were invented by french writer hervé bazin in his essay plumons l'oiseau (or 'let's pluck the bird')

while the essay also had aim to switch the french language to a more phonetic writing system, it also gave us six new punctuation marks!

from left to right and top to bottom these are, the acclamation point, the authority mark, the conviction point, the doubt point, the irony mark, and the love point. so let's go over what these all were supposed to convey! (or at least what i expect they were supposed to)

the acclamation point was meant for praise, goodwill, and enthusiasm (ie "Well done [acclamation point]")

the authority mark was meant to be used in situations where the exclamation was serious and involved a degree of command or urgency (ie "Get in my office right now [authority mark]") i think this— along with the love point and irony mark— shows how a lot of these punctuation marks were a bit like early examples of tone tags, i'll get into it more later

the certitude point was used to show sureness in a fact. (ie "It's absolutely positively true [certitude point]") i think this might be the most useless of the bunch but whatever. i digress.

the doubt point is kind of the opposite of the certitude point, used when you aren't sure of something (ie "It should be done tomorrow [doubt point]") also it should be noted that the example used above is not the only way you'll see the doubt point, some also have it looking like this

the idea of irony marks has been widely suggested, for example the poet/art critic/song writer (i think, this guy's only wiki page is in french and i am guessing a bit on the word 'chansonnier') alcanter de brahm suggested an irony mark that resembled a backwards question mark (not to be confused with the percontation point which indicated a rhetorical question) and belgian inventor (among other things) marcellin jobard suggested a point that looked like an upwards arrow (this △ on top of this |, i can't paste it)

^ de brahm's mark

all that to say, bazin's mark was based off of the greek letter psi (Ψ) which some of you may recognize if you are familiar with the greek language or comics that shall not be named. it's used in situations of irony (ie saying "Wow, that sure was brilliant [irony mark]" if someone did something stupid)

and our last point is the love point, known for being so adorable, and indicating love or affection after a sentence (ie "Thanks a lot bud [love point]")

now we can obviously see that some of these are very similar to tone tags! the love point could be like a /pos, the irony mark is kinda like a /sarc, the authority mark could be like a /srs . i just thought it was interesting i guess. i don't have a point (heh) here exactly except that i guess people might actually need these punctuation marks ? so unicode? give me the love point or give me death

anyways so that's some fun niche history for y'all! hope you enjoyed

[box-dwelling]

I know that Wyll being a warlock is kinda supposed to be a subversion of expectations. The super heroic monster hunter only gets his powers from a monster. It's an irony thing. But mechanically, warlock makes so god damn much sense for him.

Like warlocks can't under cast. At all times they have to cast at the highest level they can and it tires them really quickly but they get them back on a short rest. And just does that not sound like Wyll? Who throws himself fully into everything he does often at the expense of himself. Wyll who has two modes with people, either protection or retibutitive violence. Wyll who seems like exactly the kind of guy who would be on the verge of passing out from working himself too hard and then resting for the shortest time he can before going straight back in at full speed.

Mechanically it just fits...

[carlyraejepsans]

Technically speaking, he was a light sleeper.

Which was just hilarious for two different reasons. One, he topped at twenty pounds soaking wet—and that was after he'd reached for the towel. The joke basically wrote itself. The other reason was, of course, that nobody believed him. Honestly, he could kinda get it. It's pretty hard for irony to escape him, even on a bad day. The way he saw it, though, maybe he wouldn't take as many naps as he did, if he just managed to get one to stick.

...heh, nah. Probably not. Late to rise, early to bed, makes a man lazy or clinically dead, or however the saying went. Still.

The kid stiffened against his ribcage and that was all it took for his eyes to fly open.

The popcorn ceiling of the living room stared back at him through the darkness in all its tacky glory. Now that's another joke that writes itself. It wasn't a movie night at Tori's without some comment about her taste in decor. That always earned him a round of groans. Or a halfhearted pillow to the head. It was one of his favorite moodsetters.

His hand dangled in the air at his side. Not on the floor. Just a few months earlier, that alone would've told him he wasn't in his room, but oh boy, had things changed. He had a bedframe now, not to mention enough self respect for one. AND fitted sheets—that was a lifetime first. You had to be careful not to fall off, but all things considered, it was the fanciest bed he'd slept on since he'd tried using his worker bonus at MTT's. If he risked falling off the bed now, he'd risked never finding his way out then. Not to mention the guy in the other room calling for room service the entire night. He almost retired the midnight snacks bit on Undyne out of sympathy the next time she came over.

Almost.

The kid's head twitched.

Right. Popcorn. Living room. Springy mattress. He didn't need to smoke a pipe to realize he'd fallen asleep on the sofa. Didn't need a goofy hat either to see that someone must've thought he'd make a good pillow. Go figure. He'd gotten real good at making himself look softer under his clothes, but still, it wasn't exactly the kind of magic a guy could keep up with his eyes closed and a pillow behind his head. He just hoped they weren't too uncomfortable.

He must've dozed off sometime after Papyrus left the house and Toriel turned in for the night, 'cause nobody had stopped by to throw a blanket over him. Most nights that would've been fine. Nice thought aside, skeletons didn't really feel cold "to their bones", on account of lacking all the soft and fleshy stuff on top of 'em.

Yeah, well. Most nights. Most nights he didn't have a human kid sleeping on top of him, either.

Sans looked down. He resisted the urge to blow a strand of hair out of their face.

Most nights, skeletons didn't have hearts beating against their ribs.

Ba-dum—ba-dum—ba-dum.

He would've asked them if it felt any different, having it beat on the other side of their ribcage, if they hadn't already crawled their way inside his months before.

Heh. Not like they hadn't done the same with everyone else. Or ever asked for permission, the little freeloader. But he supposed that part came free with being monsters. The whole HOPE and compassion and everything nice kinda shtick. As a rule, they were, uh, very prone to attachment. It was hardwired into their SOULs or something. Of course, he knew better than anyone that compassion had its cost, and he'd ran low on HOPE for a long, long while, but...

There was a ray of light coming through the kitchen at night like he hadn't seen in an even longer time. The kind with a moon and stars hung at the other end of it.

Yeah. Maybe he could afford something nice for once.

Frisk stirred again. He kept as still as possible as they wriggled around, pushing themself off of him—trying, he assumed, not to shove their boney little knees somewhere unpleasant.

Then they flopped to their side and fell to the floor with a thud.

See, THAT'S the kinda issue you don't have when you have no self respect.

Slowly, the kid got to their feet again. They stood perfectly straight for a moment, then took an unsteady step forward. Then another.

To call it "walking" would've been an act of mercy. It was more of an ambling. Maybe a shambling. Sans watched their journey towards the kitchen mentally listing of adverbs. Stumbling. Fumbling. Trailing. That one didn't have a mbl in it, points for originality.

Mostly, he was ecstatic. Nothing made for fun breakfast stories quite like sleepwalking. And well, he hadn't had one of those since Papyrus turned fifteen and stopped sleeping entirely.

When the kid finally reached the fridge, they all but shoved their head inside it. He heard them do... something in there. There were definitely teeth involved. He was about to ask them to bring some goods back to homebase.

The door of the fridge clicked closed.

He didn't.

Then, he almost made a joke about forgetting their headlights on, but thought otherwise. He was glad he'd left his own off.

Besides, it was the taillights that were supposed to glow red.

Eyesockets dark and still pretending to sleep, he kept watch as the kid turned around and retraced their shambling steps to the living room like a miniature zombie.

Halfway to the sofa, they stopped, making a small sound like a grumbling of annoyance. For a second their eyes grew even more unfocused.

"Sleep," they rasped out in a low, halting whisper, "I saved you a crick in the neck."

It took him a second to register that the kid wasn't talking to him. Mostly 'cause Frisk didn't speak. To him. Or ever.

By the time they reached their starting point again, his excitement had died off into quiet confusion and quickly curdled into caution. They stopped at the edge of the sofa and fixed him with a stare, looking at where they'd been sleeping before. Sans waited.

"I am not doing that," they rasped to themself again.

Then they climbed onto the other end of the sofa and curled around themself as small as possible. So tightly it looked like they wanted to tuck their tiny body into a ball.

When they stopped moving, they didn't move again.

Sans didn't lift a finger. His brain whirred in his skull, ready to chalk up the past few minutes to the sleepwalking and forget they ever happened. Staring up at the popcorn ceiling again, though, he couldn't shake off a wave of uneasiness; like he'd seen something he wasn't quite supposed to put together.

Any man would've spent the night awake.

He cast a glance at the kid, huddled in their corner. There was no heartbeat against his ribs now: something about the silence felt foreboding.

Sans closed his eyes.

Ten minutes later, of course, he was out like a light.

[venelona]

Write My Report author notes

Today is one year since I first posted my Dazatsu fic 'Write My Report' (PM Dazai x PM Atsushi, Atsushi works as Dazai's secretary), so as I edit through all 100k+ words of it, I bring you author notes - include my favourite things about the chapters, thoughts behind some moments and fun (?) facts.

!SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE FANFIC!

(fanfic quotes will be in italics, bold italics are just the words that were italics in the quote- it makes sense- i promise-)

Starting with, of course,

Chapter 1:

I think the whole premise of the fanfic was born by that one time Dazai asks Atsushi to write his report for him after Dazai returns from his mafia kidnapping. Second half of the plot with him helping Atsushi conceal his tiger ability was an excuse for them to hold hands every full moon. I thought it would be a shortcut to my beloved 'one bed' trope. And then it didn't shortcut shit because I slow burned the hell out of it

'Great - now he was alive and uncomfortably wet.'

"I… I- I can't believe I'm going to get fired because of a guy who wanted to drown himself over paperwork." - Sweet sweet irony 😌 You want Dazai to live, Atsushi? Get to paperwork then

I think the whole premise of the fanfic was born by that one time Dazai asks Atsushi to write his report for him after Dazai returns from his mafia kidnapping. Second half of the plot with him helping Atsushi conceal his tiger ability was an excuse for them to hold hands every full moon. I thought it would be a shortcut to my beloved 'one bed' trope. And then it didn't shortcut shit because I slow burned the hell out of it

'Great - now he was alive and uncomfortably wet.'

"I… I- I can't believe I'm going to get fired because of a guy who wanted to drown himself over paperwork." - Sweet sweet irony 😌 You want Dazai to live, Atsushi? Get to paperwork then

I never described Atsushi's waiter uniform but this is kind of how I imagined it looking. No I don't have explanations. Literally just 'the vision.'

I guess I never described Atsushi's secretary clothes, tho it's been referenced that he has a jacket. Its also drawn on the cover lol

'He briefly contemplated drowning himself, but he didn't want his last day to be so full of Chuuya, so he decided on another kind of drink tonight.'

Dazai mercelessly shooting the guy in the bar who saw Atsushi transform was one of the things that were supposed to back up that 'Dark Dazai' tag. And then I kinda forgot to make him do more evil things later on lol He kills more people but more off screen and I kinda fumbled that tag ngl

COOL FANART COOL FANART LOOK AT THE COOL FANART something made me hate that scene but then zinder came in and made me love it 😭💖💖💖

'"Ah, you're awake." A vaguely familiar voice called from the doorway.' They caught Atsushi trying to cross the boarder-

The section where Dazai explains Atsushi about how he's the tiger and offers the deal is the only section where one POV breaks and you can see the other, but I decided to keep it. It was written this way because I didn't plan on keeping their POVs very separate, but then they never broke again lol

"Close your mouth, Atsushi, I already saw plenty of your fangs today."

Atsushi never, for even one second, regretting helping Dazai and saying so to him every time 😭🙏

I love writing canon moments altered by whatever the premise of the fic is - in this case, PM Dazai and Atsushi. Canon parallels - Dazai blackmailing Atsushi into the job.

Never really described but Dazai's office is on the first floor in part of it where not a lot of people pass by. All executives have more proper offices but Dazai really just took a room he didn't need a lot of time to get to. That makes Atsushi's work a bit annoying because most mafia clerks work on other floors together and he alone gotta run back and forth

It probably shows but I know nothing of the ways of office paperworks

"Eh, you're doing fiiine." His employer waved from the couch. "You're doing a way better job than I ever did, Atsushi." "How?.." "You're looking at the papers." Dazai smirked. "That's more than I usually do."

Initially one big point of conflict was supposed to be that Dazai holds a very high position in the mafia, so the papers he handles is full of very valuable information. And the fact that he let Atsushi into all of that information gives Atsushi some degree of power in the mafia, but also makes him a target for others... and then this never really came up lol

I don't think this was ever outright stated but Dazai's apartment is on a very high floor - not last one, but still high up. Like, twenty or something. The whole building inhabited by mafia workers, but he's really the only big fish in it

"I can't just make something up! Besides, from the amount of complaining notes-" Atsushi pointed at the hefty pile of papers Dazai was sitting right next to. "People do read your reports." "Oh, you actually read these?" Dazai picked up a few papers from that stack. "I usually just throw them away." "It's not even all of them?!" "Oh, it's probably just from the last three days."

Dazai saying 'Chuuya probably wrote half of the complaints and that's why I am not reading them' is just an excuse. He's just too lazy to read them

Something about Chuuya being described as 'The hat man' is sending me

[Dazai and Chuuya] '"When was the last time I made a wrong decision, hm?" "I don't know, yesterday? In the morning? Five minutes ago?"'

'"Atsushi, you should visit more places." Dazai shook his head. "Do you even go anywhere on your days off?" "I don't have days off." Atsushi blinked at him. Dazai blinked back. "Really?" "You never told me I have any."' - Atsushi never even asking if he has off days for like two weeks 😭 He'd work without them too, that poor man. Dazai gave him Thursday off because that was the only day Dazai himself actually occupied his office before he hired Atsushi. Dazai was fine without an office (he'd find a place to laze around), but people were complaining that he's hard to find when someone wanted to talk to him, and so he told everyone he can be found on Thursdays. After he hired Atsushi he started spending like 50% more of his time in the office because when he wanted to laze around he was like 'might as well do it in the office, I can occupy the couch, I am not alone and people will shout at me less and even praise me for being at work)

'Atsushi shook his head again. He needed to distract himself. "So… that was Akutagawa, huh?" That was probably the worst topic he could've picked for a distraction, but anxiety hasn't let him think of any other at the moment.'

Never elaborated on but in this story other executives have a lot of people that are under their command specifically. Dazai still orders people around and gives them work and stuff, but the only person he hired himself before Atsushi was Akutagawa. So that's why Atsushi is kind of treated like a big deal by other mafia members. Also half the reason why Akutagawa was angry at his existence

Dazai telling Atsushi 'I think you and Akutagawa would work great together' was a nod to New Double Black. He was still envisioning it in his mind even though Atsushi was working as his secretary and didn't use his ability at all, but later on when he started caring for Atsushi he kind of waved that idea off because he didn't want Atsushi using his ability at all

'"Atsushi, I didn't give you a day off today so you could spend it calling me at eight in the morning."'

If you're wandering why I always juggle how I call Dazai (the brunet/the mafioso/the bandaged man) and others is because in school during language lessons one lesson that stuck to me was that you can't use the same word in two sentences in a row, or it'll sound bad. So half my writing comes from me trying to juggle the same words back and forth. h e l p

Never described but I like to imagine that Dazai got panorama windows in his living room. I never stated this because I don't think he would - something like that would up the chances of his enemies finding where he lives and Dazai wouldn't bother risking that. But... that's what my cinematic imagination wants

'"If you planned on holding hands all night, I regret to inform you that I have no habits of flirting with men."' - canon parallel + THAT WAS THE PREMISE OF THE FIC AND I BARELY DID IT 😭😭😭

'"Or you wanted to watch me sleep the whole night? I didn't think you were such a pervert, Atsushi."' - a set up for a joke in chapter 6. Yes. I thought of that stupid joke this far back.

'And, he supposed, watching Atsushi struggle with the paperwork made it a teensy bit more enjoyable to do. By which he meant it was still a nightmare and he'd rather throw himself off this very building than work on it, but still. A little bit more enjoyable.'

I got SO many comments on SO many chapters about 'when Atsushi will tell Dazai about his tragic past'. Either they missed the 'Probably had to do with that orphanage he talked about earlier, but Dazai didn't care for sob stories about the past.' line, or wanted something more- Dazai KNEW, he connected the dots, he just didn't care back then

Dazai was supposed not to care for Atsushi in these earlier stages but I kind of fumbled it and made him too caring a bit too quickly but. Whatever can you do.

[kiaxet]

Sooooo y’all see the latest @somerandomdudelmao comic update? Because once again it is living in my head, which means once again my brain has generated fic. This one’s ~1200 words and slightly less tragic, depending on whether or not you take dramatic irony into account.

~~~~~~~

It starts fairly innocuously.

One of the surviving technicians monitors a computer as it finally, finally boots up successfully, whooping when the Genius Tech loading screen pops up. He grins and pats the power cable. "Thanks, Raph!"

It catches on.

A water purifier, disconnected to save a struggling power supply, gets plugged back in. It chugs back to life, and the kids responsible for its upkeep cheer and high five. One of them waves at the ceiling, where a power conduit runs overhead. "Thanks, Mister Raph!"

And it spreads like wildfire.

Every time something works the way it's supposed to - every time a much-needed device pops back to life, or the emergency doors close correctly, or a dying lightbulb flickers on one more time - they thank Raph. In gleeful shouts and careful whispers, they show gratitude for the person who gave up his life - and his second chance at life, at that - to keep them safe. It makes the emergency base, ramshackle and barely held together as it is, feel a little more like a home. A little more alive.

It doesn't take long for a few unspoken rules to develop.

They never say it in front of the metal shell. It's one thing to say it to the walls, the cables, the electricity; it's something else to say it to a figure with a face, seated against the wall like a sentinel that will awaken and protect them when danger arises.

(Nevermind that they've been in danger, constant and unending, for decades, and that this sentinel is already protecting them in smaller, everyday ways.)

They learn very quickly never to say it in front of Raph's surviving family, either. Master Leonardo gets angry when he hears it. It's an anger born of grief and loss, painful but not dangerous to allies, but given how terrifying Master Leonardo can be on the battlefield or a bad day, nobody really wants that anger directed at them. Master Michaelangelo just stops when he hears it, lips curling up in an expression too devoid of life to truly be called a smile. It's almost worse to witness than Master Leonardo's anger. No, they learn to watch themselves in front of the family, carefully taking their gratitude towards a dead man elsewhere.

Until the day someone forgets and says it in front of Casey Junior.

The kid looks up at Roger with wide, almost hopeful eyes. "Why did you- is he here? Can you feel him?"

Roger stares back at him with equally wide eyes. He'd just been grateful the computer had booted correctly for his monitor shift, and he hadn't been looking, and now he has to try to explain this to a kid who's never known a life outside the apocalypse. Oh boy. "No, uh- I mean- I don't have magic like your dads do, Casey, I couldn't-" He sighs. "It's just...a thing people do, when things work. Before the Krang, we had all sorts of machines that made life easier, and...we'd talk to 'em. Thank 'em when they worked, yell or beg when they didn't...I remember threatening a fax machine once, not that that made any difference. I think that just...kinda carried over here." Wait. "Not that your uncle was a machine or anything-"

"His body was a machine," Casey says simply, with a pragmatism that Roger hadn't been expecting. Apocalypse-raised kid. Right. "That wasn't what made him Uncle Raph. He was- it's-" Casey falters, expression starting to crumble. Pragmatism be damned, the kid is still grieving-

Rem, just coming off her shift, steps in smoothly. It's not the first time she's saved Roger's ass, both on and off the battlefield, and it won't be the last. "We know," she says gently, putting an arm around Casey's shoulders. "What Roger means is that we're grateful he's keeping us going, and that people like to bond with machines even when they're too simple to bond back. We all used to name our cars - can you believe it?"

"I named mine Red Rider," Roger says wistfully. He still misses that car.

"And I used to sneak out of the Hidden City with my cloaking brooch and go joyriding outside of human cities," Rem says, a grin splitting her feline muzzle. "I named every car I stole Phantom, like I thought I was cool."

Casey smiles - small and watery, but there nonetheless - and Roger breathes a sigh of relief. "What else did you name?"

"I mean, it was mostly cars, but some people named their computers."

"I had a friend who named her phone and just kept adding numbers when she had to replace it. It was Duchess O'Brien the eighth last I'd heard."

"I know some Yokai named their weapons, but I never really kept track of those. It was more of a Battle Nexus fandom thing."

Another Yokai leans in - a four eyed lizard whose name Roger could never remember no matter how hard he tried - and Roger shuts up. She's in charge of security now, and honestly she intimidates him. She looks around - at him, at Rem, at Casey - and then intones seriously, "I once named a kitchen appliance Toasty McToastFace."

There's a beat of silence. Casey has a lopsided grin growing on his face, like he doesn't get the joke but he knows it is one, and that's enough to lift his mood.

And then Rem doubles over, cracking up, and Bob smiles carefully. "Really loved that toaster, huh?"

"It was my closest friend," the lizard Yokai replies, deadpan as hell, before leaving the conversation.

Casey turns that confused grin on Roger. "Was she serious?"

"Kid, I have no idea. Some people are just really into this kinda thing."

Rem finally straightens up, wiping a tear from her eye with a paw. "Ohhhh boy. Oh, I needed that." She turns her smile back on Casey. "Point being, naming something makes it a little more real, and makes you a little more likely to take care of it. The system here...already has a name. We're just saying thank you, you know?"

The grin on Casey's face settles down into consideration. "Yeah, I think I do. I- Thanks. I'm gonna-" He waves at the door to finish his sentence.

"Go for it, kid." Roger waves him off as he departs, then sighs once he's gone. "God, that kid is just hemmhorraging family, isn't he."

"We all are, Roger, it's the fucking apocalypse." Rem flicks an ear.

"Yeah, but still. It's rough." There's a second or two of silence. "Also, if he says it in front of Master Leonardo, I'm denying all knowledge of this conversation."

"Spirits, same."

Roger learns a few days later - from Rem, of course - that Casey has named his chainsaw hockey stick Killer, because it's what his mom used to call him. Well damn, if kids like him are gonna be the future, then maybe they have some hope after all. He raps on a wall lightly, just below where the power conduit is mounted. "I know you didn't have a lot of time with the kid, but you did a good job." He can't help but smile. "Thanks, Raph."

[y-ddraig]

Oisin is a weird dude. He's supposed to come off as a like "nice dude" but it's become clearer and clearer he's not. The obvious marker there from the begining is that his best friend is Ivy, the most openly cruel Ratgrinder we've seen so far. Kipperlilly doesnt like the Bad Kids and speaks with faux-polite insults to them.

But Ivy has just been shown to be openly an asshole. Like making fun of people for having fun and saying fantasy racist stuff about Mazey. If your best friend is like that, it's a partial relfection on you as a person. (although I'm sure this aspect of herself is being played up by her assumed rage ressurection)

There's also something up with his Dragon Ancestor. The KVX bank change, the fight trailer and him offering Adaine treasure (possible dragon madness curse) for Wizard class.

I'm susicious of him, especially in light of Kipperlilly reveal. I doubt she'd have the social capital within the group to ochistrate this. Even if she's the one planning it as a mastermind, the social control within the group seems to be more within the hands of Oisin and Ivy. In the Ratgrinders the only person who ever liked Kipperlilly is now dead. The party don't like Kipperlilly, they do things just to piss her off.

I think Oisin could be the real driving power of the Ratgrinders. It's definetly; not Ivy, she's too post-irony to care; not Ruben, he's just sorta kinda dumb; not Mary Ann, she's not interested assumedly. It could still be Kipperlilly but I think there's reasonable suspicion to be put on Oisin.

[theoldoor]

DR RATIO DAY

i hate mischaracterization of dr ratio bc as dr ratio #1 hater at least hate dr ratio FOR WHAT HE IS not for WHAT U THINK HE IS YOU AINT HATING ON THE SAME LEVEL AS I AM RAAGGGH IFUCKIGN HATE DR RATIO (more doodles below JUST BEAR WITH THE RAMBLINGS)

“he’s so mean as a teacher/egotistical/narcissism and shit” NOOO WHAT IF HE JUST HAD A LITTLE SUPERIORITY COMPLEX TO COVER FOR HIS INSECURITY OF NOT BEING RECOGNIZED BY NOUS NO MATTER HOW HARD HE WORKED?? WHAT IF HE’S A LITTLE GIFTED KID WHO SHINE WITH THE DESIRE TO BE SEEN?? WHAT IF HE WANTED THAT VALIDATION OF HIS GREATNESS BUT NEVER RECEIVED IT NO MATTER HOW HARDED HE WORKED AND HE NEVER HAD AN ANSWER FOR IT??? WHAT IF HE’S JUST AUTISTIC AND HIS FORWARDNESS IS SEEN AS ‘MEAN’??? hate dr ratio BUT HATE HIM RIGHT

i hate dr ratio

THEORY THING

i like to believe in the theory that dr ratio is the worm, despite it saying that the worm actually died. or at least, worm jr.

so maybe, dr ratio is the “second” worm, like the rerun. the second attempt to fuck around with nous because now it’s more convincing cuz he’s his attractive looking professor yk. second time’s the charm and aha never back down from a good laugh.

= veritas is also the roman goddess of truth, sometimes argued to be the creation of prometheus - the trickster who defied the other olympians and gave humanity (something seen as insignificant) fire (yk spreading knowledge, tech, civilization, etc)

= aha, is an aeon of trickery, a trickster, who gave unfathomable knowledge to a worm , something seen as insignificant.

= aha likes silly things, what gives a good laugh every now and then? Irony. What’s Ironic? someone who doesn’t take bullshit and silly things like dr ratio to be a follower of elation. someone whose name is “truth” but lies every time we’ve seen him.

—- If the theory is true

As any gifted kids do, they strive to be recognized, for their talents to be used and seen. But his purpose of being recognized by Nous failed, so what all his giftedness do? He can’t even turn back to Aha either, Aha discarded the worm the moment THEY found out that the worm failed to get recognized and left that poor thing to dead - the Aeon that created him for this sole purpose, discarded him.

So what? What does he have? What greatness he has if his duty can’t even be completed given his power? Other people has been recognized with less capabilities than him, yet he’s recognized by none of the Aeons. Imagine the insecurity and guilt that must’ve fell upon an overachiever like him.

To act with superiority, to pretend that you’re above others - to hide the fact that you’re actually achieving less than you actually supposed to. Dr Ratio… i hate you…

*funny thing: since the masked fools, followers of elation, was rejected by aventurine. do u think dr ratio is the second attempt in trying to get aventurine to join masked fools lol

OC TIME:

Dr ratio has a 3% completion rates on his course. I think people drop out pretty often and he would usually have empty classes. well not until fenrir came, we all know how desperate fenrir is for that validation and he never let a task be unfinished.

as harsh as dr ratio was and as unbearable it was for fenrir, he still showed up to every class, even if he doesn’t do well and if he overworked. but soon, they both caught on their unhealthy habits for one another and kinda got it shimmered down.

fenrir has hermia, his little sister with heavily implied ASD, he can pick out similar patterns with Dr Ratio and learn to deal with his little ‘tempter’ at times and Dr Ratio finds it easier to work with Fenrir (cuz the man is awfully patient) so they were a well off pair and fenrir became the second person who can hold a proper conversation with dr ratio.

(maybe aventurine knew how to deal with hermia because he dealt with dr ratio lol)

We cannot forget the vashrir content

Aventurine passes by his office sometimes, picking up a few papers to read for fun because he’s literally Fenrir’s research subject. i like to think that aventurine finds it funny in how analytical and structural fenrir was when it came to avgin-sigonian - he was writing a dissertation for it after all.

fenrir really remembered everything aventurine said, studying its phonology from the way aventurine spoke the words and recording them down even when aventurine wasn’t paying attention. such a silly freak lol.

topaz and fenrir coming tmr mayhaps AHAHA

[redeyerhaenyra]

Dom!Steven and Bimbo!reader headcanons

Summary: You're a bimbo, but you're not inexperienced. Steven Grant is an obvious sub... right?

Warnings: oh the filthiest smut, vaginal fingering, overstim, kinda mean dom!Steven but not really, squirting, multiple orgasms, reader faints, titty play (if you squint), reader is described as dim, stupid, but she's nice.

Notes: For @cosmicblogs xxx we are hopping on the bimbo reader bandwagon FR!

So picture this: You're a bimbo girlie. You adore anything pink and sparkly, cute and fluffy, ect. Your nail are always perfectly manicured and your outfits always steal the show. Your ditsy, and sweet, and thoroughly enjoying your date with giftshopist Steven Grant.

This was your 3rd date, or rather the tail end of it. Steven had invited you over, and you, being the innocent, unassuming thing you were, agreed with a smile.

Under no circumstance would you have assumed Steven had less than safe for work intentions. Besides..

He was a sub. It was obvious.

Eventually though, you made your way back to his flat- Steven scratched the back of his head, and flushed a little as you squealed about how "cute" his homestead was.

Steven had worn tight jeans to your date today, he had hoped you might be into how fit they made his ass look- you didn't seem to be noticing much though. Not that you ever did.

He didn't like to admit it, but it was the truth. You were.. a little dim, at best. He still loved you, and wouldn't change you for the world.

Sometimes he wondered if there was anything between your ears, or if your brainspace was totally occupied by pink sparkles and high heels.

An hour or so later, you both were curled up together on the sofa- Steven had turned on some random documentary on thr history channel, and had to keep himself from laughing everytime you expressed geniune awe at things most people learned when they were children.

"You're so smart Steven." You had said, without a hint of irony, when he'd corrected you that WW2 had infact come after WW1.

It made his heart swell, you were so adorably dumb.

It also made his dick twitch, you were amazed by him, willing to offer him endless ego boosts. Something not many people were.

Steven's eyes raked over your body, god you looked delicious.

You wore pink, obviously. But the way that dress hugged your body... Steven felt his dick twitch again, his eyes fixating over your breasts.

He'd bet your nipples were so sensitive, and if he closed his eyes he could almost imagine how they'd taste...

"Steven?"

Your voice broke him out of his dick-brained stupour-

"Yes darlin'?" "You're like, totally out of it. Shall I like, leave? Like, you look totally tired."

Awe. You thought he was tired.

"No no, love, 's alright, c'mere-"

Steven gently tugged you closer to him, now having you laid on your stomach against his chest.

You nestled there comfortably, and hummed as Steven kissed your head.

He looked down, from this angle he could spy just how juicy your bum was.

His hands twitched.

Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

Steven decided to test the waters, just a wee bit.

Slowly, he traversed his hand down your back, smoothing over your dress. You cuddled into him further, and so did Steven go further.

His hand now teased the hem of your dress, before reaching in to gently caress the apex of your thighs.

You moaned softly, stretching upwards like a cat- "Steven, that like, feels good."

He had never heard you so breathless before, "Yeah?" You moaned again, as his hand travelled a little lower to rub the pad of his fingers against your hole.

Your hips jerked, and you buried your face into his chest to hide your embarrassment as Steven's touches became more and more confident.

This wasn't how this was supposed to go! Steven was a sub, surely! Your tiny, bimbo brain couldn't comprehend him taking control over you like this.

He pinched your clit through your panties- no doubt also pink- the texture of which had you keening.

Steven rubbed your little bud between his fingers until you were drooling on his shirt, pleasure rolling through you in hot waves.

You expected him to stop now, flip you over and stuff you with his cock until he came, you were certainly wet enough-

But he didn't. His fingers kept working you until you came, hot white bliss, and then some.

The pressure from his fingers waned, but didn't stop, not even as he shifted, sitting up and pulling you into his lap, where you felt the heat of his cock pressed up beneath you.

He heard you whimper, and he kissed you neck.

His hands just didn't stop though, even as they dextrously moved your panties aside, finally plunging two of his thick fingers deep inside you, they just kept moving.

Stroking you inside in all the right spots, all the right points that made you cry out, legs twitching.

It wasn't long before you felt another shattering orgasm approaching you.

The only sounds to be heard in the flat now, (TV having turned itself off long ago) were your breathless cries, the wet squelching of Steven's hand against your cunt, and his soothing voice whispering into your ear;

"Yeah, 's good yeah? Feels good?" "S-steven-" "Yeah.. I bet it feels so good, dunnit? Hmm? So good you can't even speak, huh? No? It's that good, sweetheart? So good my baby's tiny is just fit to burst, huh? Can't fit nothing else in there?" He tapped your skull with his free hand, "Nothing else but me in there, ain't that right?"

You wanted to protest, a little peeved that he'd just insinuated, accurately, how stupid you were- but no words came you. Only pathetic, drooling moans and whines, both your hands digging into Steven's arm, leaving crescent shaped scars.

It didn't stop, not even as you came for the second, and third time, and even as the fourth built up.

At this point Steven had tugged your dress and bra down under you tits, and with his previously free hand rolled and squeezebox of them, and suckled hard on the other, gently teasing with his teeth.

You were a mess. Your mascara ran streaks down your face, thighs covered in your own juices and hair dishevelled and messy.

Past the point of moaning like you enjoyed it, you just full on cried now, sobbing and babbling whilst staring in awe at Steven's hands.

The electricity of climax was all you felt, and it was constant. So much, too much. It was the only thing you were aware of.

When the fourth and final one peaked, it was different. You threw your head back agaisnt Steven's shoulder, but not so far as to miss the torrent of liquid gushing from your core, twisting hard pleasure through your every vein.

Eventually the pleasure stopped, but you weren't aware of that either, having blacked out in a hazy, cum brained unconsciousness, still twitching ontop of your lover.

Steven finally pulled his hands from you, a little worried that you'd fainted, but he figured you'd come around soon.

He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean- mmmmmmm, god, he'd have to taste you later. For now though, hed leave you be... you needed some sleep.

[greenleaf4stuff]

today's flavor of my current Adar insanity is going to be 'speculating and musing about his armor'. Because it tells a story (or at least gives me a dozen headcanons), and I am kinda sad we likely aren't going to dive deeper into it in the show.

I am putting my thoughts under a cut because it is quite a bit of text.

his armor has holes and imperfections and shows where he took damage in past battles/confrontations; part of it is due to him being an uruk, who seem to all have individual, cobbled-together 'armor' from whatever they can find. The armor makes him fit among his children (which he likely also wants to do - he doesn't consider himself above them even if he has their respect)

but it also means that - since he wore it even during the betrayal of Sauron and it had damage even back then - he was either attached to it or, more likely, he wasn't considered important enough to get new, in-tact, fully functional armor. Even with his experience and position. It could imply that, when it comes down to it, he was considered just cannon fodder like the other uruk. (Contrast his armor to Sauron's clean, well-made robes and jewelry for example.)

but I also find it interesting that it seems he has no or little interest in mending the armor either - he could just as likely be wearing the damage like a badge of honor. To show his opponents how much he has survived and overcome and how durable he is. Or he might consider it more important the materials be used for other things that better benefit his children instead of him/his safety.

as shown above, there are distinct places where his breastplate is damaged which is not just due to wear-and-tear but looks to be caused by arrows and blades. I really wonder what the stories behind each missing piece are.

in the flashback, he can be seen wearing a coat - correct me if I am wrong, but we never see him wear that coat again I think. Which makes sense, he is a fighter and it would hinder his movements. His whole getup is really very practical and suits his needs, heavy enough to protect him but light and toned-down enough that it won't hinder him in battle/in his fighting style.

like a lot of characters, he isn't wearing a helmet to battle (which makes sense from a movie/tv series standpoint to make sure viewers can visually distinguish the characters better, I suppose) - best explanation for me would be that he wants to be seen and recognized and (perhaps) feared by his opponents, or that he is so confident in his abilities that he thinks he doesn't need one (him catching Arondir's arrow during the siege of Eregion makes me think he might believe this)

not really armor, but we can also see his shirt sleeve in the scene when he holds up and turns Morgoth's crown, and when he sits and surveys the scene in Mordor (or even in s1). It looks more fancy and regal in the first instance, but by the time he is in Mordor, that sleeve has seen better days.

the irony that he has worn this damaged armor for so long, in so many confrontations and battles (and survived!) but that it could not protect him (or might have better protected him had it been fully intact) when he got betrayed by his own children.