#NO idea where the original of that picture is

[bweirdart]

nearly oc-tober time again - time for some prompts for 2024

F.A.Q

do i have to draw?

not at all! you are free to participate with any medium that suits you... writing, artwork, free bases and templates, simple text posts, in-character-as-your-oc roleplay, whatever! (just no stealing or AI)

do i have to make new content?

nope! re-uploading old stuff that fits the prompts is allowed (and encouraged) ... old art that didn't get the appreciation it needed always deserves a chance to be shared again, it's a fun throwback!

do i have to post every day?

nope! only 10 days are mandatory (the ones in red with a star symbol) and everything else (yellow) is 100% optional! if you're busy or tired, please skip as many as you want

can i start early?

you can prep your posts in advance if you need to ... but please wait until the right day in october to share them!

can i re-upload your prompt list to another site?

i would prefer if you dont - i have accounts on most sites, so just reblog/retweet/share from me!

event tag?

#bweirdOCtober

have fun!

image desc/text version ↓under the cut↓ or on bweird.art/october

prompts:

WEEK 1: OC INTRODUCTIONS

WEEK 2: BUILDING BACKSTORY

⭐ 1: FAV OC

what makes them your fav?

2: NEW OC

how recently did you make them?

3: OLD OC

how long ago did you make them?

⭐ 4: UNDER-APPRECIATED OC

an oc you feel like you don't talk about enough, or you haven't fleshed out as much as you would like

5: RE-DESIGNED OC

an oc who has changed a lot (what changed about them?) or, if you haven't redesigned an oc: is there anything you might want to change about an existing oc?

WEEK 3: FUN + GAMES

⭐ 6: PAST

where is your oc from? what did they look like as a child?

7: LIKES

what do they like (and why?)

8: DISLIKES

what don't they like (and why?)

⭐ 9: RELATIONSHIPS

doesn't have to be romantic! can any kind of relationship (frienship, family, rivalry etc)

10: PERSONALITY

what are your oc's main personality traits

11: SYMBOLISM/THEMES

what represents your oc? is there a specific colour you associate them with, or a specific animal?

12: FUTURE

what will your oc look like in the future? do they have any plans or goals?

⭐13: MEMES

do any memes remind you of your oc? are there memes your oc would find funny? maybe you want to redraw your oc as one?

14: WHO/WHAT INSPIRED YOUR OC

are there existing characters that your oc looks like? was your oc based on yourself? is your oc originally from a specific fandom?

15: MUSIC

share a character playlist, write a songfic, post lyrics that remind you of them, etc

⭐16: EYES CLOSED or NON DOMINANT HAND

draw a picture of your oc with your eyes closed or with your non domminant hand, write or type a paragraph about them without your eyes closed, etc ... have fun, and don't worry about it looking "bad" -it's meant to!!

17: DnD ALIGNMENT CHART

put all your ocs into a DnD alignment chart, or any other similar chart if you prefer

i've compiled a few templates on my site, but you can find more easily if you google "oc alignment chart"

⭐18: SWAP

swap something between your ocs - their role in the story, hairstyles, personalities, fashion taste, species ... whatever you want! how would this difference change them?

19: PALETTE CHALLENGES

draw your ocs with as many of these colour palettes as you want (or just skip if you don't draw/don't like doing these!)

WEEK 4: COMMUNITY

hex codes for the colours:

palette 1 - #3C1E81 #6D1EA2 #B059E8 #FE0876 #FE5284 #FE7C96 #E0CFE3 #FFD5C3

palette 2 - #352823 #673F28 #AB541C #BA8233 #897128 #A68B2F #F7BF6A #DAC3A4

palette 3 - #A42E25 #D7412B #E47C29 #F7A233 #FCC02D #FCE4A6 #486548 #FEFDE8

palette 4 - #2F4769 #39597E #53779C #94D1E7 #AADDE7 #D48DB7 #D498B5 #D2BABA

some ideas for what you could do: talk about a friend's oc you like, make gift art/writing of them, collabs, trades, reblog/appreciate ocs in the event tag, make interactions between your ocs and other people's

20-26: A WHOLE WEEK OF SOCIAL STUFF

if you don't have the time/energy to do every day this week, ⭐ day 23 is the only one marked as mandatory! you can skip the rest!

WEEK 5: HALLOWEEN

⭐27: FEARS

is your oc scared of anything? do they have any phobias? are they startled easily? would any of your ocs try to scare ppl on purpose?

28: MONSTER

what would your oc be if they were a monster (eg: werewolf, vampire, eldritch beast.. whatever) or, do you have an oc who is already a monster?

29: PUMPKIN CARVING

your ocs carving pumpkins, a drawing of a pumpkin carved to look like your oc ... or even carve it in real life!

30: GHOST

this can be literally a ghost, or a concept that haunts your oc! up to you!

⭐ 31: COSTUMES

what are your ocs wearing for halloween?

[local-limebug]

DBDA characters + formal desi attire: Charles and Edwin (Pt. 1)

This is not fanart, because I cannot draw, but if any fanartists want to use this as inspo, go ahead. And, before we begin, my fashion sense is not the best, so if any fellow desi people see this and have anything to add, go ahead. These aren't very detailed either tbh, because I am much more well versed in women's desi fashion than men's. Ok, now, let's go.

Charles Rowland

You know I had to start with my favourite desi boy of all time. I'm putting my man in a sherwani because he deserves it. Red's his colour, and it's also the colour associated with weddings in south asian culture, so yes, these pictures are technically bridegroom inspo.

So, I absolutely adore embroidered sherwanis, and I do think Charles would slay one of these beyond imagination. For full outfit references, see below.

Golden and red go together amazingly in desi wear, although they do usually denote wedding wear. But sherwanis fit so wonderfully on the shoulders + Charles' dangly gold earring would go so so well with the outfit !!

Edwin Payne

Yes, I'm imagining the British Raj era white boy in desi attire. Sue me. We all know blue's his colour, so of course I went for the blue sherwanis.

Now, blue and golden are an amazing colour combination and my original choice, because I wanted there to be a common colour between Charles and Edwin, but blue and silver/white was easier to find on Pinterest. You can see golden highlights on a few of these, though, and this next one.

This one is a bit plain but to be quite honest, it has a simple elegance to it that reminded me of Edwin. Its golden highlights mean that it would work best with golden trousers, like Charles' outfits up top.

BUT I also saw this amazing formal shalwar kameez in blue that I do think Edwin would look so so good in, so I have to add it here as a bonus idea.

+ Bonus Payneland

So, desi men's attire also has this thing where the sherwani itself is a muted colour and the man wears a cloth draped around himself in the highlighted colour (IDK what the cloth is called 😭). But I found these similar ones in blue/white and red/golden combo, and yes, it reminded me of Payneland.

LIKE. You can't tell me they wouldn't absolutely slay it. Like these are their wedding outfits to me, like for when they get married to each other.

Anyway, that's the limit for the pictures I can put on this post. Next one up is Crystal and Niko! I am so excited for Niko.

taglist because people seemed to want this and i don't want anyone to miss it. just say the word and i'll tag you for the next part: @queen-of-hobgobblers @mirabel-on-a-bicycle @shipspainfulships @read-write-thrive @justalunaticfangirl @guardianspirits13

[idrawprettyboys]

"Angel Edwin Comforting Angel Charles"

I was originally going to call this "Concrete Angel in the Arms of the Angel", as a reference to the Martina McBride and Sarah McLachlan songs. I've been feeling a little conflicted over how I feel about this picture. Part of it is because the pose doesn't look that great to me. I don't think I used a reference. I also feel conflicted about what tone I was going for. At first, it started out really sad, using the Concrete Angel lyrics "she flies to a place where she's loved" to mean that now that Charles is dead, he can finally be loved. I then had the idea of giving Edwin wings as well so that Charles is "in the arms of the angel" and that he would find comfort here, like in the McLachlan song. Once I took the sad lyrics off the page and I painted them, I felt like I wanted to make this feel a little more uplifting. I made their wings pretty with blues and pinks, and then I felt inclined to make the background gold, to indicate heaven and to give it an uplifting feel. Even though those songs are very negative, I wanted to give this a little bit of a positive twist. Because we only know these boys when they're dead. Dying wasn't the end for them. It was the beginning. I don't know if this is a what-if-they-instantly-went-to-heaven-when-they died scenario, but that could be the case. Charles still has bruises from abuse and blue lips and fingers from hypothermia, but that will go away very shortly, now that he just stepped up to Heaven. The final illustration ended up with a bittersweet feel.

Tools: Pentel Click 0.7 mechanical pencil, Pentel hi-polymer eraser, Canson cold pressed watercolor paper, Mei Liang watercolors, Sakura Koi watercolors, Pentel Aquash brush, Sakura Pigma Micron pen, Epson Perfection 4490 scanner.

Patreon / Ko-Fi / inprnt / redbubble

[hyun3hk3y]

Symbolism in "Portrait of Lady Edelgard Von Hresvelg"

This is something that I’ve usually never really felt comfortable doing. If you ever wonder why some artists are a bit more reluctant to actually *talk* about the “meaning” of their work, its because it strikes the same tenor as having to explain why a joke is funny.  If I have to actually lay it out for the viewer why certain decisions were made in the execution of a work of art, the magic of the whole experience may be lost.  Moreover, many artists avoid making definitive statements on their work because they do not wish to deprive viewers the opportunity to derive their own unique explanation. 

While I chiefly view myself as a fine artist, most of my artistic training was as an illustrator.  As an artist, this can lead to an interesting dichotomy when it comes to creating paintings.  During my studies, I was told that the job of an illustrator is to solve pictorial problems for people often by making pictures that tell a story or convey an idea.  Fine art’s definition, in contrast, tends to be more nebulous.  But I digress, on to the painting…

A number of people on reddit and Tumblr have remarked on the candle with the snuffed-out flame.  No interpretations on it have been offered, the mere presence of a candle with a smoldering wick is a strong enough implication.  However, this is one instance where I drew inspiration from art history so I believe it is worth elaborating on.  The animus for the candle originates in the Arnolfini Portrait by Jan Van Eyck.  Below is an image of the painting with the pertinent candle circled.

Art history scholars have a number of different readings about the candle’s presence, but the one I was taught in Art History is that the lit candle indicates the presence of the holy ghost or the watchful eye of God.  Three Houses draws from a number of religions for its world building, in the case of The Church of Serios, the developers took the majority of their cues from The Catholic Church.  If a lit candle would suggest Edelgard’s faith in the Goddess, then an extinguished one must imply Edelgard’s *loss* of faith. 

In addition to the extinguished candle, I would also like to direct viewers to the reflection of the candle in the polished wood table surface. In the reflection the candle is still burning very brightly, almost down to the base of the candelabra.

The purpose of this image is to recall a saying from old Taoism Philosophy in China: “The candle that burns twice as bright burns half as long.”  Those who are familiar with Edelgard’s back story in Three Houses will find its relevance obvious.  I doubt I am the only one to make the allusion.

This brings me to the next major piece of symbolism I employed in the painting, the dagger and the drapery on the table.  The dagger’s significance should go without saying, but its application as a device will become more apparent after I explain the table cloth.  To put it succinctly, the majority of the dark shadow shapes made by the tablecloth are arranged to evoke the shape of the crest of flames.  Below is another visual to help illuminate this detail. 

The immediate implication here is the detail of Edelgard possessing the crest of flames.  As for why I decided to depict it in a more concealed way…When I first got the idea for this painting, the whole concept was that if a person saw this painting in a gallery, they would be looking at an actual artifact from Fodlan, one that created by an artist who actually lived there.  This is why the second row of the inscription reads “In the Imperial Year” on the left side and “1179” on the right.  This means the painting would have been completed just before Edelgard starts attending Gareg Mach, and long before the greater public would know she has the crest of flames.  How the artist came to know this would remain a mystery.  I like to imagine it as a detail that Fodlan’s historians would debate over for years after the game’s narrative.

There is also a second message that I have intended with the dagger’s placement cutting (heh) across the crest…Gripping the dagger over the crest of flames is a statement about what the path is that Edelgard will take, especially when the crest is examined as representing the Goddess Sothis.  In fact, there are two (technically three) lines of dialogue from Three Houses I had in mind for this symbolism.

That about sums it up!  I may do a couple more posts in the future where I show how the painting evolved from thumbnails, to studies to the finished image if theres interest in that sort of thing.

[runawaymarbles]

I can never be too mad at kids who don't want their picture taken, because when I was in high school I would do things like remove myself from pictures before I posted them on facebook. Here is a 12-year-old picture facebook memories just showed me of my left eyeball with Hank Green.

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

some dgr doodles i did last night

ft: the toxic yuri enogiri au i have in my head where they were dating before the killing game started. throughout the actual game, kyoko has the vaguest recollection that she has some kind of deep connection with the mastermind behind it all, and junko is both rooting for and actively sabotaging her girlfriend by dropping hints about their relationship. which leads to some intensely disconcerting inner turmoil for kyoko as she tries to figure out what the hell she's gonna do when she uncovers the mastermind's secrets, and if she really wants to do that at all

and naegami horses ig

[treasureplcnet]

someone on the bodies production team you have to release more layout/bts pictures of charles whiteman's flat please. this is a great start but i need to know him better. particularly if it's got about as much mould as a second year uni house and if he owns as many chairs as it seems LOL

[cinewhore]

Sorry for being weird I’m just getting used to being happy and alive

[elephantbitterhead]

Speaking of knitting, the Xmas sweater has made it in under the wire. This is my recolored & adapted version of the Schoolhouse Press pattern 'Christmas Past.' If you're considering this pattern & want to hear my thoughts on it, feel free to ask. My thoughts are largely negative -- many on-the-fly modifications were necessary to achieve the fit I wanted. I got this pattern because I wanted to see how they did the mitered collar you can see in the top picture. I like the collar, but in the future I'll add it to other sweater patterns that have the shaping I prefer.

[captain-crowfish]

Happy Fourth (4th) Birthday to the movie that started my whole obsession with this studio in the first place

(Based on this vine) And if anyone doesn't believe they are married I have some news for you [It's The last clip of the video here]

"They're called Kardashians, Mr. Link" Is a real line that came out of LAIKA studios and I couldn't be happier

Happy Birthday, Missing Link!

[alexjcrowley]

Heat (1995)

HANNA

You never wanted a normal-type life?

NEIL

What the fuck is that? Barbecues and ballgames?

HANNA

That's part of it.

NEIL

That's nice. That your life?

HANNA

No. My wife spends half her time on the couch. My stepdaughter's got problems 'cause her real father's a world class asshole. And every moment I got, I'm chasing guys like you.

[...]

NEIL

Then maybe you and me, we should both go do somethin' else, pal. HANNA

I don't know how to do anything else.

NEIL (the shared confession)

...neither do I.

HANNA

And I don't much want to.

NEIL

Neither do I.

Yes, they are gay for eachothers, but they're also aromantic and they're living a dream queerplatonic relationship. One day I too will find my platonic soulmate and we'll hunt eachothers for sport.

[cuteniaarts]

Y’know, with how obsessed I was with mermaids as a child, you’d think I’d be all over MerMay every single year, and yet this is my first time drawing mermaids since I was like… 13, and I’m posting it 5 minutes before May ends oops

Procrastination, yay!

Anyway, Kuviren have invaded my head and have been refusing to leave for months so… here’s yet another AU I came up with. Suyin is the owner of the largest merchant ship fleet in the Earth Kingdom, and Kuvira is captain of one of the crews. After docking in a small seaside town, they have a few days before they must set off again and Kuvira decides to spend her free time in solitude, exploring the coast line. During one such trip, she discovers what, or rather, who the dark waters of the ocean are hiding…

*click for better quality bc tumblr is a hellsite*

[fellpyrean]

Claps hands alright we’re doing this! So I started listening to magnus archives a few months ago and it really did things to my writing ideas, so now I’m gonna round some up and post ‘em. 

I forget where/when I first saw a moth!jon but u know. He’s cute. So here is some moth!jon AU! Corruption Jon :Dc and archivist Sasha! ~1800 words. 

Since he is a corruption avatar in this, there is (as expected) some possibly gross bug imagery, but not a lot of holes. And no worms! :D

______________

The flat is quiet. 

Quieter than Sasha expected, and much neater too than she expected when they connected this one to "Filth." The lights are off and there's a faint dusty, sweet scent in the air as she cracks open the door, torch slicing through the dark. 

It catches on motes of dust. She thinks she hears movement, a susurrus of rustling like fabric faint in the depths of the place but little else. She pushes the door further, feels it catch on the ragged old rug on the floor and watches moths flutter up, batter against her torch in little puffs of dust before they flutter away. 

Part of her worries as she steps inside, as she closes the door behind herself - leaving just a crack in case she needs to get out fast. 

This is too quiet for something of the powers. The flat should be more of a wreck, more… more miserably bloodstained, more disgusting and unnerving, but it looks, honestly, just a bit messy, a bit moth-eaten. The couch sags a bit wrong, but hell, she can't pretend she's never had one like it. There are shelves of books, their edges chewed and pages no doubt holey, there's even a mug left forgotten on the kitchen counter. It's all dim; lit only by what spills around heavy curtain edges and her own torch as she steps further in and - and hears that rustling again from the end of the hallway and heads straight for it. 

More moths flutter up at her steps, and she is wary, she is. But the things just… flutter uselessly at her hands, their wings shedding dust and their fat abdomens plump and full, but hardly a threat before they fly - further inside. 

Towards that faint rustling noise, towards the door at the end of the dim-lit hall that is just open enough to allow the frantic moths to flit inside. Writhing and wriggling at the crack between door and jamb just a moment before they vanish inside, but the movement… it makes Sasha swallow. 

Something about the way the bulbous little things squirm before they pop through sets her stomach on edge. Too many of them; more than she thought, all struggling to squeeze into that door. 

The crack writhes by the time she reaches it. 

She can swear she hears them whine and click and screech in tiny voices above the din of their frantically fluttering wings.

She uses her torch to push the door open. Fast, loosing a cloud of moths from the stuffed crack that fall and flutter and scatter into the dim room before her. 

The rustling has not gone quiet. Neither has the soft, whining song of flapping wings and voices she cannot place as she raises her torch high, fumbling for her pepper spray in her other hand. More of a comfort to herself than any real belief it would accomplish anything against something abnormal, but the room doesn’t… change. Nothing leaps out of the dim shadows, nothing comes ravening towards her with a horrid, dripping maw. 

It’s a bedroom. The bed is really as far as the light peeking around the curtains lights, in thin, dusty stripes across worn rugs and a small pile of abandoned clothes. 

“A-Ah.” 

Sasha whips her torch towards the voice, and stills. 

There is… there is something like a man there. Tucked in the corner, with all the moths frantically fluttering, scuttling towards it. She watches, stomach queasy, as the moths drill between the heavy folds of the blanket? The wrap? It has folded around itself. It reaches a hand out to a particularly fat straggler and cradles it in its palms like a treasure, bringing it up slowly, carefully, and opens thin, paled lips and lets the thing crawl straight into its mouth as Sasha gags. 

It is almost worse then when it looks up. 

Long, straggling hair that was probably rather nice once. Now it is loose and lank, black shot with grey and dust that hangs over… over his shoulders, over the thing he has cocooned himself within. His eyes are dark. Too dark. 

There are no whites, she realizes, and cannot help but feel her fingers twinge around the pepper spray. 

But he isn’t attacking. He is just looking at her, head cocked like a curious animal as the moths burrow back into the shelter he offers. 

She can work with this. She sucks in a breath, wills her stomach to settle as she tells it it could really be so, so much worse, and points the torch further towards the floor. Good manners. Going out on a limb that he’s probably not too fond of bright light. 

“Hello,” she says. The strange man stares at her. Hard enough she swears she can feel the tracks his eyes leave on her skin, but she only makes herself stand taller. He seems to like that. He laughs. Not maliciously. 

It’s soft. Like cotton, like it’s been a long while since he’s used his voice, and the rasp sticks to it as he speaks and Sasha tries not to linger on where exactly that moth went. 

“Hello, Archivist. Doing house calls?” 

He’s smiling. And that’s what gets her. 

His voice is soft and smooth like old silk and his smile stiff like he’s unused to using it, but something about him feels familiar. It’s there, just at the corner of her mind, and she knows she’s frowning deeply as she casts a line and tries to hook just why she feels like she knows this strange man, but then he laughs again and stands. 

He rustles as he does. That… that thing wrapped around him doesn’t move the way it should, not like cloth, but she can’t immediately place that, either. Not until he walks a little closer and her torch light catches on it and it… shimmers. 

Like moth wings. And Sasha sucks in a breath. 

She can see it now. The patterns in the dusty brown, the oranges that circle white to make massive, partly hidden eyespots. The thick, dark veins supporting the overall structure, and she can’t help herself from blurting out, “Can you fly with those?” 

The man shudders, that smile hung unmoving on his face as he brings a hand to his mouth and coughs against the static. 

“Not well,” he answers into his hand, his too-dark eyes sparkling. He lets his hand drop back into the too-layered folds of his wings and shuffles a little closer; his wingtips drag across the floor, like a blanket wrapped around a child too small for it, and she can see now where his long, untied hair turns into something shorter. A ruff of fur at the back of his neck, across the back of his shoulders.

(Can see the moths wriggling down into the fur, settling there, an army of tiny, coal-black eyes staring out at her, glinting green when her torch light catches them.) 

And then he stands still, that faint smile on his face, his dark eyes half-lidded in an expression she cannot place, and waits as that soft, soft distant song hums in the room. 

Sasha exhales. This is more than she dared hope for. He’s talking. He’s non-aggressive.

“I,” she begins, wetting her tongue before plunging back into her words. “I was wondering if I could ask you some questions. About the ‘Filth.’ About you.”

He watches, and she feels emboldened. 

(Her phone begins to ring as she steps closer to him, and she ignores it. It’s Elias. She knows.)

“We don’t have answers. And if you could tell me, tell us what you know? About… about what’s happening.” 

Her phone stops ringing. It starts again. The man smiles wider and reaches out. Sasha can see that his hands are… strange. Plated like chitin, and the desire to grab his hand and investigate each delicately plated joint wars deeply with the uneasy reminder that there are probably moths crawling beneath, of statements that were far, far more explicit about what ‘Filth’ did to a person than this man showed. 

His hand waves in front of her face for a moment and she starts, coming back to herself, as her phone angrily rings again. 

“Your phone?” the man asks, and Sasha doesn’t hesitate for a moment to shut the thing off. 

(Elias. All three calls. If he doesn’t want her here, then she’s not leaving.) 

“Well Archivist,” and she knows she is not missing the strange bitterness that clings to that word this time, knows there is something she is missing about him, “If you have that many questions, we should probably get a little more comfortable. I have a feeling that once I let you start, you’ll keep me well after dusk.” 

And isn’t it bizarre? As he brushes past Sasha - both carefully and clearly telegraphing his movements so she only feels the barest touch of his wings as he heads back out into the hallway - she realizes she doesn’t feel afraid of this one. A little disgusted if she thinks about him too hard, yes, but there’s been no threat. No… no menace, no winding, evasive non-answers, just. Incredibly human remarks. It almost circles right back around from comforting to even worse than something as alien as the thing with the door. Michael. 

But as the rustling moves away from her down the hallway, she can’t help but flash her torch around the bedroom. One last bit of nosiness. 

An old, worn bed, rather like the couch. Shelves with books so moth-eaten they’ve gone to pieces. An open closet, filled with over-large sweaters and… She blinks. And oddly proper button ups, slacks. 

And then… and then she turns her torch in one last semi-circle and catches upon a strange shine beneath the lumpy pillows. 

Like polaroids. 

The itch that there’s something she should know only grows when she spots them; growing from a thing at the edge of her thoughts to an all consuming need that drives her in fast steps across the dusty rug before she even catches herself. She fishes the pictures out with deft fingers and - and she thinks her heart stops in her chest. 

She knows the people in the picture. 

That long, dark hair shot with grey is distinctive - even set on a much more vibrant, lively face, and above a painfully crisp button up. He’s wearing glasses in the picture, and. A name tag. 

She can’t read the name, but she’d recognize that emblem anywhere. Not that she needs to. 

Because beside the stuffy librarian like man, his eyes green instead of black, stands… Tim. Tim, his shirt as loud as ever, his smile boisterous, and an arm slung affectionately around the man who couldn’t possibly be any more his opposite. And the same horrible name tag pinned to a pineapple-strewn lapel. 

The man worked at the Magnus Institute. 

He worked with Tim. 

She knows his name now. 

Jonathan Sims. 

[darewolfcreates]

My digimon :]

[curiousitykilledthe-crow]

WE'RE WE

HERE FUCK

WE'RE SHIT

QUEER UP

[puthyflapps]

These are attached to a very lengthy drabble thing in my drafts. It’s about Toni being in a pop punk band and since it’s been in my drafts forever, I don’t know if it’ll ever see the light of day. So I need to share these to get them the airtime they deserve today

I thot if I made 2015 style lyric edits it would reinforce that the idea of Toni in a pop punk band makes so much sense