#and for liking characters with the VAGUEST names

[strongprincipal]

I've seen like, at least two drawings depicting smiling friends as animals and none of them had Mr Boss so I took matters into my own hands

[light-wrath-paradise]

"I play both sides so I always come out on top" - says local animator who hates both terfs and transmasc people specifically, apparently

[isaacathom]

my friend pondered a highschool au for their ttrpg ocs, and then i went 'hmm. interesting. what if my ocs?' and then, well,

[apartmentsmoke]

that poll going around about which character would be most likely to have a tumblr is making me think about an AU where Buck - Evan - joins tumblr while roadtripping around, after a woman he spends a couple nights with tell him about it

after first, he posts photos he's taken during his travels, occasionally makes text posts about how he's feeling, and then he discovers the hornier parts of the site and starts contributing

and in LA, starting to explore his own sexuality, is one Tommy Kinard, who googles and googles and this website seems like no one uses it and it's pretty anonymous, and unlike the dating apps there's no expectations. so he makes an account

he starts going through a few tags and he discovers Evan's account, and he's enthralled by the content Buck posts: he seems so free. he devours all of the content Evan has on his blog. eventually Tommy works up the courage to comment on a few of Evan's travel photo posts and then, after he's had a few interactions with him, likes some of Evan's more risque ones

Evan's s flattered by the attention and how sikorsky1942 likes every part of his blog because usually people are just there for one thing, and they start chatting

when they talk sikorsky doesn't mention Evan's other photos, but he keeps liking them and Evan keeps posting them and if there's ever one where he doesn't, Evan finds himself weirdly disappointed

there's one time - when Evan posts a video of himself jacking off, only a few seconds long, and sikorsky messages him "I wish I was there" and Evan jumps on it, asks what he would do

"I'd touch you. Learn what you like. I want to hear you."

Evan sends him another video, makes sure to capture audio this time, because this guy is his friend and the idea of someone learning him - learning his body - he's really into that - wants to moan sikorsky's name but realizes he doesn't know it - maybe one day

but sikorsky doesn't respond and Evan bullies the rejection he feels back down his throat, especially when he does come back a day later with a message that doesn't acknowledge the video at all. maybe sikorsky didn't like what he heard. Evan still gets to keep his friend

usually sikorsky speaks in the vaguest terms, couches a lot of his stuff in hypotheticals especially when it comes to his personal life, but Evan learns a few things. like how sikorsky likes helicopters - his username is a reference - and he's funny, can cheer Evan up after a bad day. and, the one time that Evan coaxes him into sharing a photo - no face required - ridiculously built, Evan wishes he had those abs, and asks how sikorsky got them. repeats sikorsky's words back to him, from a month ago - "damn I'd touch you"

it's a couple days before sikorsky answers and Evan wonders if he scared him off but then he gets the notification. two, actually

the first saying "I'm a firefighter. In LA."

and then, a few hours later when Evan was still sleeping (at 4 am in LA, he did the math) - "Maybe we could meet up if you're ever nearby."

and Evan steers the Jeep towards LA

[the-stars-were-his]

fanfiction is so great. like it's just saying, "hey love that character, imma take their name and the vaguest bits of their personality and just see what happens" like canon sirius is absolutely nothing compared to the sheer greatness of fanon sirius

[soliiform]

Shit I wanna see in Fallout season 2

I want Maclean to be actually heading towards Big MT or Sierra Madre, Vegas is just a pit stop.

I want Thaddius to become a super mutants instead of a ghoul, which will luckily happen due to the leaked pics of the actor have his hands molded. Since the setting is changing to the Mojave it would be perfect to bring in Jacobstown and our beloved grandma Lilly. I see him becoming a Virgil-like character.

Rex and Dogmeat interaction.

Boone and/or Manny better be in No Vac when the Ghoul and Lucy show up, if not both at least one.

I want the vaguest mentions of the courier. Make Six a fucking folktale and have people scared to say the name like their fucking Voldemort. Six is just a travelling menace and they could just say that their in Zion or something.

VULPES PLEASE LORD PLEASE. I want to see him with the legion come back. If you talk down Lanius he’s like oh the legion will come back eventually and Vulpes doesn’t have any ending.

Arcade better be a fucking focal point because he was part of the enclave as a child and the enclave is a main part of the show.

ANY MENTION OF BENNY SWEET GOD PLEASE.

I would like a Arthur Maxson mention or appearance because he connected with all the chapters to become high elder. It would also allow some knowledge of how the capital wasteland and commonwealth are doing, even if a snippet since I doubt the show will go over there as much as I want it. He could also manipulate Maximus like how he was manipulated as a child to hating ghouls super mutants etc.

Lord if a death claw isn’t there I will scream

[ultra-creepy-fucker-things]

Seth is not the Villain

A major theme of Star vs. the Forces of Evil is its anti-colonial and anti-racist message, something which, in discussions of the ways the show fails, is often brushed aside in favor of criticizing the shipping and put in the same category of "unimportant subplot that gets in the way of what we, the viewers, actually care about". I disagree, as I believe that the story Star vs. was trying to tell, if told well, would have been a very important one to get out there, especially to the target audience of children seven and up. 

Unfortunately, the show's anti-racist message fails in ways that aren't deeply discussed in mainstream criticism, and that go largely unexamined by the fandom. One way this message fails is in how the franchise depicts the Septarian. 

One message of the show is that the way mewmens view monsters--as violent, dangerous scoundrels that only exist to hurt the supposedly innocent mewmens--is false. In reality, monsters just want to live their lives in peace, and most of the crime and violence mewmens experience at monster hands the result of either desperation or miscommunication.

This would be all well and good, but unfortunately, this show is not consistent with this message.

Enter the septarians- a race of anthropomorphic and borderline immortal lizard men who seem to be everything that the show expects us to believe other monsters aren't. Of the named septarian characters in the show, all three are antagonists, and only one, Rasticore, gets anything resembling sympathy; the other two, Toffee and Seth, are treated as purely, uncomplicatedly evil, with no redeeming qualities. Toffee's actions may have been acknowledged as the right thing to do, but the show otherwise fails to give any acknowledgement that he could possibly be in the right; he is depicted as cunning, manipulative, and cruel; he makes Ludo into a puppet, he murders Comet for reasons the show fails to elaborate on, he is brutally and graphically melted alive onscreen, and no one morns for him once he dies. While the show does, eventually, come around to his views on magic, it is clear that the man himself is still viewed as wholly undeserving of sympathy. Looking at The Magic Book of Spells, this doesn't get much better. 

Solaria introduces us to the septarians, but we get our first trustworthy glimpse at who they are in Eclipsa's chapter, where former cannibal warlord Globgor puts them among monsters who " feel they are superior to the Mewmens and want nothing but the destruction of [their] people and [their] magic", and describes them as "particularly cunning and full of righteous indignation" with "no ability to forgive or forget, carrying the grudges of their forefathers as if they were their own". Now, while Seth pops up here and there throughout the book, it's hard to say how accurate the words of Globgor and Eclipsa are through those appearances, because his actions are described in the vaguest of terms; he loses an all but stated to be rigged election to Pemma during Cresenta's time, leads a rebel faction during Estrella's, and fails to respond to Comet's invitation.

Now, it isn't hard to see that a lot of this is a way to communicate Toffee's ideology and goals to the audience without having him just state them, as Comet notes during her chapter that Seth's views are popular amongst younger septarians, a category which Toffee most certainly falls into. Given that, it is reasonable to believe readers of the Magic Book of Spells are meant to assume that Toffee considers septarians to be superior, that he wants the destruction of mewmens, that he has no ability to forgive or forget and is acting on the grudges of his forefathers, not because he himself ever expresses any of this, but because he is a septarian and that is what we are told septarians are like.

And that poses a problem for the show's core message. 

The message of the show is that monsters aren't a violent, murderous, mewmen-hating monolith, that the actions of people like Ludo and Meteora don't represent the majority, and yet when it comes to septarians we are expected to throw that message away.

In order to follow canon as it is intended, you must fail to absorb one of the show's core themes. And, sadly, many people have. Many fanworks parrot the same stance on septarians that canon gives us, holding within them both the idea that monsters are in truth peaceful and kind, that depictions of them as violent and cruel are lies, while simultaneously accepting wholeheartedly that this one subset of monsters are violent and cruel because that is what the show tells us. 

Thinking critically about media, especially media for kids, is important, and a part of that is being able to tell not just that a story has failed, but how. Many people know full well that Star vs. falls short of it's potential, but some common criticisms and rewrite ideas reveal that these fans don't truly get it, with countless critics and authors suggesting that Seth should have taken Mina's role in the last season or casting him as the villain in their fanworks. And, the thing is? We don't have to do that. We don't have to criticize canon only to double down on the most insidious of its mistakes. Just because the show treats septarians as everything it says other monsters are not doesn't mean we have to believe it. We don't have to accept that Toffee is worse than Mina, or that Seth is as bad as Solaria. We don't have to cast Septarsis as the villain in our fanworks. We can take the lessons Star vs. attempted to teach but failed to live up to and stick by them stronger than the show ever did.

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

Is Eridan’s fake attempt for land dweller genocide just a manifestation of his guilt of orphaning all those trolls? He says he wants to kill them all so they will no longer have to deal the loss of losing their parent to some finned hipster asshole?

So Eridan's life pre-SGRUB is primarily concerned with one thing: it is his Duty as a violet-blood who is close to the Heiress to feed her lusus so that it doesn't throw a tantrum and Kill Everybody. It's a manifestation not of guilt, but of anxiety.

He describes the murder he commits in pursuit of this as "all i evver done practically," and we never see him participate in a hobby he enjoys - we learn he's a hipster because Karkat calls him one, he FLARPs to fill Gl'bgolyb's belly, and people have fought with me before, but I maintain that his "interest" in military history is also just a part of his posturing/something he reads like somebody would doomscroll, as it validates his anxiety, because he only ever talks about history twice, in the vaguest possible terms, and the first time, it's just part of him posturing at Kanaya, and the second time, he's literally just. Wrong? He's just incorrect?

CA: yeah go ahead and kiss us off but therell be blood on your hands CA: you could either play along as our auspistice and do a little mediating like you wwere fuckin hatched to CA: or wwatch she and me devvolvve into fuckin full fledged kismesisses the kind like you dont get once in ten thousand swweeps CA: you knoww thats wwhat it wwould be there wwould be rainboww rivvers runnin through star systems and all nebulizin like liquid firewworks CA: it wwill be beautiful and heartbreaking all at once CA: you should read up on your history instead of poring through that godawwfull sunny rubbish

CC: None of your plots to kill t)(e land dwellers ever work out, and every doomsday device you get your )(ands on turns out to be a piece of junk! CA: so CA: i got to keep tryin thats howw all the great military masterminds became great through upright persevverance

Like I just. Don't believe him when he says he's obsessed with military history when he doesn't seem to be able to name five specific battles, and thinks the main attribute a military leader needs to succeed is "persevverance". We know that Karkat's interest in romance is real because he brings it up more than twice and also starts infodumping about it to Vriska at one point, but Eridan only seems to mention it because he thinks he's supposed to care about it.

Which is pretty much, like, one of the biggest tensions in his character: how he feels he's supposed to act vs. how he actually feels about acting that way. He faces multiple pressures to be a certain person, which run counter to his actual feelings.

He has to be a murderer, because if he isn't one, then Gl'bgolyb will do a genocide on his entire species.

He has to be an unrepentant murderer, because they live in a horrible fascist murder-society where highbloods are supposed to kill lowbloods all the time for literally any reason.

He has to be the one getting his hands bloody because his ancestor, Dualscar, was also the Orphaner, and (especially highblood) trolls need to take up their ancestors' mantles.

He has to be rude and condescending to everybody else because that's how highbloods, and especially sea dwellers, have to act.

He cannot express compassion, sympathy, or pity, because sea dwellers and highbloods aren't supposed to act that way.

Magic has to be fake, because it's for shitty wigglers, and Eridan's not a wiggler anymore!

He has to be in a torrid pitch relationship because that was the most defining one Dualscar had, and he needs to complete Dualscar's unfinished business.

He has to be in a flushed relationship because Dualscar had an unrequited flushcrush on the empress, and he needs to complete Dualscar's unfinished business.

He has to hate the lowbloods because he's a highblood.

He has to hate the land dwellers because he's a sea dweller.

But wait! That's weird. He has to hate the land dwellers and lowbloods, but he's the one responsible for making sure they don't all die by keeping Gl'bgolyb full?

In truth, it would be all too easy to solve the land dweller problem once and for all. You'd just need to lighten up on the feeding schedule for a while. Maybe you'd be a little too busy to bother with that hassle for once? Or maybe you could happen to be off your game for a spell? It happens, even to the best sometimes. But nah. It would make her upset. More emotions. More problems. That's all you need.

And he has to be an unrepentant murderer even though he clearly feels more guilt for it than Feferi?

That should keep her happy for a while. And make a freshly orphaned troll somewhere pretty sad.

And you claim magic is fake idiot stuff for babies but you like it SOOOO much?

You also like MAGIC, even though you know it to be FAKE. Like a made up friend, the way wizards are. Made up make believe FAKEY FAKEY FAKES. It's still fun though.

So we can see that Eridan is basically being pulled two ways at all times.

On one hand, there's everything society says he needs to be: an unrepentant murderer, a military dictator, ruthless bloodthirsty sea-dwelling aristocracy, hater of all low bloods and land dwellers, Orphaner Dualscar's heir.

And on the other hand, there's the guy Eridan actually is: doesn't give a shit about the hemocaste, just wants friends and/or relationship partners, likes magic, like hipster stuff, kind of a tool, guilty and traumatized.

It doesn't help that the people he's surrounded by are the least likely to recognize his distress as distress - Feferi loooooves being a princess, Kanaya has never really voiced any strong opinions on the hemocaste because it largely doesn't concern her since she's a rare jade blood, and Vriska is doing a lot better than Eridan is at fitting the mold they were born into (not that she doesn't have problems, she's just doing better than Eridan, which is a low fucking bar). Even Karkat, because of his own hangups about being a mutant pariah, venerates the society he was born into, because he (wrongly) sees it as a means to gain validation so he can hate himself less. As a result, Eridan winds up with basically 0 support system, because pretty much every aspect of his life reinforces that the thing society says he should be is correct, and that there's something wrong with Eridan for being unable to meet that expectation.

Especially because, for at least all the "murderer" he's supposed to be, if he fails to meet that expectation, everybody dies. So it's not just that he's got a pushy lusus and a shitty society, like Vriska does, but that there's also the added weight that adhering to those expectations is literally, objectively, the correct thing to do, so long as he doesn't want literally everybody to die.

As a result, he's constantly trying to overcorrect his behavior and cognition to line up with what he thinks he's supposed to be. That's why he's constantly saying slurs even though he doesn't actually treat anybody differently for their caste. That's why he's constantly talking about murder and military history, even though he clearly doesn't enjoy doing either of those things. That's why he's always pushing this image of a big bad fascist wannabe, even though he actually wants to be a magic-slinging wizard.

The thing about genocide, for Eridan, is that he's already obsessed with genocide - the prevention of genocide. Keeping his species from being genocided is, without exaggeration, the most time-consuming pursuit in his life. BUT WAIT! He can't say, think, or believe that his actions are for the benefit of the land dwellers, because first of all, he feels kind of guilty about killing them, and second of all, because he's not allowed to express compassion to the people he's keeping safe. So between the stress, the cognitive dissonance, the anxiety, and the fact that Eridan doesn't really do a lot of introspection because he's so overwhelmed by emotion, his existing preoccupation with genocide is transmuted into something that's socially acceptable: "wanting all the land dwellers dead."

"[I]t would be all too easy." Indeed: if he ever slacks in his duties, they will all die. In fact, it's easier for him to let them die than to not. He clearly doesn't like doing all that killing, and it clearly makes him feel bad, and takes up a shitton of his time if nothing else, so it's probably occurred to him over, and over, and over, that maybe he should just... not! What if he just stopped.

Well, then everyone would die. Gl'bgolyb would raise her voice a little and it'd kill all the rust bloods, then the bronzes, the golds, the limes, the olives...

Wait! Is he feeling bad for them? He's not supposed to be feeling bad for the low bloods! Shit, shit, shit. Say a slur and then say something about how you WANT all the low bloods dead. PHEW. OKAY. SAFE. But that means you need to kill all the lowbloods. Because you said it, so it has to be true, and also, this is the way you're supposed to be. So, fuck, well, go commission a doomsday device. Okay, done. PHEW. It probably doesn't work, but nobody can say you didn't try! Hooray, you did it! You have performed a Sea Dweller Action! Oh it's time to go kill some people again. Damnit. Killing people sucks. It makes you feel bad, and it takes up so much of your time. What if you just didn't...

And we can see this with the way his lust for genocide is described. There's no mention of why he hates the land dwellers, no mention of how he believes society will improve with them gone, or even what they're doing that's so bad in the first place. He rambles at Feferi about "keeping the bloodlines pure" at one point, but this is clearly contradicted by him stating he wouldn't kill Kanaya, because what sort of friend would he be? (And the fact that he cares about Kanaya, Vriska, and the anon-blooded Karkat, who could be literally any blood color, at all!)

So yeah, like, the thing is, he doesn't want to kill them all. He even calls himself out for knowing his latest doomsday plot was a bust from the start:

You are almost starting not to care about this stupid doomsday device which probably won't even work. She probably KNOWS you know it won't work. She has probably put all the pieces together and knows it was an elaborate ruse to be in cahoots with her again.

And so does Feferi:

CC: None of your plots to kill t)(e land dwellers ever work out, and every doomsday device you get your )(ands on turns out to be a piece of junk! CA: so CA: i got to keep tryin thats howw all the great military masterminds became great through upright persevverance CC: I t)(ink deep down you stack t)(ese plots against you so you fail because you know it's wrong.

And here he is outright contradicting his stated goal of killing the land dwellers because, jegus, he'd never kill his friends:

CA: but somethin thatll kill all land dwwellers wwhat else wwould i be after GA: Can You Just For A Moment Entertain The Thoughts Of One Untouched By Megalomaniacal Derangement And Tell Me Why Id Want To Assist You With That CA: wwell CA: im not goin to vvery wwell kill you am i that wwould be fuckin unconscionable CA: wwhat kind of friend wwould i be

And a reminder that one of his closest friends at this point in time is Karkat, whose blood color is currently anonymous to his friend group, meaning he could be literally any blood color and Eridan wouldn't want him dead:

CC: You know, I'm not sure w)(y we never talk about our romantic aspirations. CC: We s)(ould more often. It is kind of -EXCITING! CA: shrug CC: Probably because you fill your gossip quota wit)( your nubby )(orned bro.

But Karkat also explicitly lumps himself in with the low bloods, so Eridan can't even use the excuse that Karkat might be nobility (but sea dwellers are still suppose to hate land dwelling nobility so that still wouldn't be a defense EVEN IF it was true):

CG: CHALK IT UP AS ANOTHER INFURIATING VICTORY FOR GUTTER BLOOD OVER ARISTOCRACY.

Because Eridan does not want to genocide the land dwellers. He's just anxious.

[ejthenobody]

Random Thing I Feel Like Talking About: The Vandelay Soft Drinks in Hi-Fi Rush!

Warning: Hi-Fi Rush spoilers.

Forgive me if I format this a bit weirdly, I just feel like sharing about this very minor and random thing in my current absolute #1 favorite game, Hi-Fi Rush.

Anyway, in this game, you can find these various vending machines throughout pretty much every regular level, aside from the first as they're introduced in Track 2. The whole point of them is that you can smack the heck outta them to get a bunch of gears and batteries to recharge your Reverb gauge (your beeg special attack gauge if you don't know). Very helpful for the first playthrough when you need all the gears you can get in order to get all of your moves sooner rather than later, plus you can do some casual combo practice with 'em.

In the process of destroying these vending machines though, they spit out a ton of cans of the six drinks shown on them. All six drinks are branded and based on the six department heads at Vandelay, these being Korsi-Cola, Rekka Pure Energy (Get apple Juiced), Mimosa Sparkling Water, Carte Blanche, Kale-Ale Executive (I think?), and Roquefort Espresso.

Here's close ups of the vending machine's screen:

However, while messing around in Photo Mode today in Track 4, I realized something really, really cool: the drinks all actually have nutritional information on them!

But it's not just some basic scanned image grabbed from some random canned soft drink and slapped onto the textures, instead it's all stuff based on the personalities of the department head the drink is based on! Here are some pictures of each label:

I don't really know why but I just love each and every single one of these, not just for being funny and interesting, but also because they exist at all! It's such a minor detail that I feel like most people never notice, but it's just so charming to me that it's there!

Some details I wanna point out in specific about these cans are: 1) All of these labels say "Please Recycle!" at the bottom, except for Kale Ale which commandingly says "Recycle!"

2) Korsi-Cola is a caffeine-free cola which I both like the idea of as someone who loves soda but prefers non-caffeinated ones, but also I can't help but interpret this as the VAGUEST and MOST SUBTLE form of foreshadowing for at least the very end of the Decaf Firmware Update joke. And aside from just that running gag I like that it's caffeine-free and has a little label on it that says something along the lines of "a calm mind makes the right choice." It makes a lot of sense for Korsica's drink to be branded like that, namely due to what happens with her in the story and how she interacts with Chai directly before, during, and after her boss battle.

3) All of the info written on these labels and on the rest of the cans alludes to something about each character, some in more obvious ways than others. Roquefort Espresso says "Unleash Your Inner Beast" or something like that on it (along with Silver Extract as the other ingredient). Mimosa Sparkling Water has "Mimosa Flavor" as the second ingredient which is just the most vain way to put it. Carte Blanche (Zanzo's drink if you didn't put that together) as a noun literally means, "complete freedom to act as one wishes or thinks best."

I could keep talking for at least two more paragraphs but I think I'll stop here. Just wanted to share this because it's pretty funny and cool to me, and is just one of many, MANY things that shows much effort and polish went into Hi-Fi Rush.

[familyagrestefanblog]

Not sure why people blame Zoe too for "Daddycop", saying she should have been more specific when talking to Marinette, when Zoe literally brought up Sabrina's name and the desire that they do something for her that Zoe WANTED to get more specific with if Marinette hadn't entirely talked over her and then dragged her back to the girls, only to then ask in the vaguest way possible for Adrien to join the girls night which Zoe took as her asking for Sabrina.

Blaming Zoe for Marinette talking and walking over her because "Zoe's leading sentence wasn't a 100% encapsulation of what she wanted to ask in a longer conversation" feels like people are once again only trying to deflect the blame from Marinette's behaviour and action.

Why does every character around Marinette NEED to be impossibly perfect in how they act and speak or else they are to blame for her talking and walking over them? How about expecting Marinette for once to not do that?

[tea-stained]

cmonnnnn melone and cioccolata could have so much chemistry

(haha get it)

i rlly imagine melone mightve viewed cioccolata as a role model (?) in terms of the way he is simply alive

a person's worldview always seeps into their writing, whether it's conscious or not; and that's exactly what melone can read into

perceive the perception, forcing his way into understanding the way their thoughts work

and so, having read cioccolata's medical books (which, there's the /Cioccolata's Operative Orthopaedics/ in live action thus spoke kishibe rohan, implying that his name was well-known in the world of medicine and also possibly more books written by [my beloved] Mold Monarch themself) he definitely realised his view on a human life, seeing it as nothing more than a tool and a plaything, body serving as a vessel to be studied by taking it apart and putting it back, with the amused curiosity of a child /observing/ insects

and he must've been just as inspired as intrigued by this man with an approach so passionately frigid towards humans

because both of them are essentially the most selfish characters in the series, their eyes set on nothing other than their own gain and entertainment

of course, cioccolata has secco and melone is with la squadra

even so, there is a clear lack of remorse towards anyone they encounter. it's quite the opposite, actually, seeing as melone is genuinely ecstatic about murdering that woman on the train

such an interesting character, with the power to /create [an artificial] life/ that brings death and destruction. and mold is alive too

both of them, at their core, consume to grow, devouring whatever crosses their paths with slight exceptions

i want to see these fucked up freaks interact so bad, because no matter what, they are just so similar at the core. but just because diavolo decided to not respect the assassin team, because sorbet and gelato decided to investigate him, because it was cioccolata and secco who guaranteed their gruesome deaths and decided to brag about it, they will never interact normally

because cioccolata was in the more favourable position

there is absolutely no way melone hasn't at least heard about cioccolata once. there is absolutely no way he wasn't intrigued by him in the slightest

i want to see him finally meeting the man whose books he'd been reading while studying the human bodies, imagining what he might look or sound like, and trying to come up with a way to get him to bare his fangs and showcase the true monstrosity hidden underneath a pristine white coat, to peel back the layers of deception and witness cioccolata with no holdbacks, see if there's a way to outwit this grotesque, heinous man

i want to see cioccolata understand perfectly just what is happening, teasing melone with whatever knowledge he might hope to claim for himself by unveiling only the vaguest snippets, knowing that every word he says will be taken in and taken apart, until it creates a coherent form with everything else melone has noticed.

i want to see the moment cioccolata realises just how twisted and dark melone's mind is, too; that he is a threat with unknown intentions

i want to see them learn each other, more intrigued with every word they exchange

i want to see them learn how they think and act accordingly, in a neverending pursuit of a deeply rooted desire to understand the man who is facing them, with melone's perfect ability to read one's body's history and cioccolata's godlike need to understand humans beyond their souls and bodies

i want to see them explore one another, cautiously getting closer, craving one another more and more, still weary regardless, having never encountered a man so much like their own selves, so much so that the sheer thought of an understanding this deep is beyond their plane of reasoning, being able of viewing themselves as the /superior/ ones, but never quite reaching it

i want to see them slowly fall for one another so deeply they almost seem like what they set out to do in the first place, the lingering desire to either run away while they still can, or cut the other one open, admiring the way their face contorts in horror, betrayal, suffering

[naamahdarling]

I remember this one serialized fantasy-setting erotica story from the mid-'00s to early '10s or so in only the vaguest terms and cannot even remember enough detail to describe it in a way unique enough to use in a search string, and I have no idea what the author's name was, and I'm genuinely exasperated because I never finished reading it, but it popped into my head randomly and now I can't stop thinking about it.

UGH.

It was a vaguely Western-flavored thing in a fantasy world, with two characters on the run through a very cool and dangerous desert landscape, fleeing a group of bad guys. One knew what they were doing in the wilderness and the other was pretty clueless, they didn't like each other, very slow burn. There was hurt/comfort I think? They were both sick or injured at some point. A huge weird storm. Some kind of !!!DESTINY!!! thing going on? Lots of peril. Magic powers?

It wasn't P L Nunn, I don't think, though if you have any of THEIR work I want to talk to you, but I think it was someone adjacent to them? In that same circle of LJ yaoi kink authors that I discovered about the same time. I THINK the same author had a multi-chapter snowed-in Wolverine/Sabretooth fic that was fairly brutal? But that might also have been P L Nunn, who is now a ghost.

The website had a yellow/cream/ivory background, I don't know if it was hosted on LJ?

I'm so frustrated. I can't remember anything more concrete but I would absolutely recognize a description of it if I saw one.

[mistyscenter]

Is like….1 am but whatever

KEYFRAMES MCs!! but why yes dear viewer, I have reused my Our Life MCs, but jokes on you these three are their own original characters in their own original stories because making AUs of your ocs is fun!! Anyways here's some fun facts about them:

Taliyah:

They went into law because their mom used to be a lawyer, she passed away when Taliyah was 17

Taliyah is the middle child of a triplet

They have diagnosed Autism and GAD and because of it they're allowed to have an Emotional Support Animal

Her name is Mooncakes, she's a calico, everyone loves her

They're a pair skater

Their dad is Black American while their mom is 2nd generation Sudanese immigrant

Minoring in English Literature

Kaavya:

Child of divorce, doesn't speak with their mom anymore

In high school they were known to take as many clubs and extracurricular as they could, no one knew how they managed...everything

They've actually known Mateo since high school, they're best friends

Went into law because of the money and also trying to help people

That's what they tell people, but is half a lie the main reason why is Ace Attorney

Not the most athletic type but can run pretty fast and has good reflexes

Them and Deja have the same exact spice tolerance, they both had a few competitions over this

Indian American, 2nd generation immigrant

They do not know how to use social media, the only apps they have on their phone are the messenger app and otome games

Mateo:

Biggest hater you'll ever meet /j

He's actually super nice and kind, great with kids and a great friend to vent to, it just takes them a while to open up to people

Goth, will fear 3 layers of clothing in summer, they dress to impress

Slowest fucking slow burn with Percy, he doesn't realizes their feelings for him until the end of summer

His family is composed of their parents and little sisters: Marigold (15) and Clàrissa (5), their sisters are the most important people in the world to him

He has Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, uses a cane most of the times to get around campus but they do own a wheelchair for bad days

On that note in the rainy day moment the boys actually go visit him after Deja told them (in the vaguest way possible) why Mateo wanted to come but couldn't

Picked law for the same reasons as Cam, is also minoring in Art History

Afro-Mexican, 1st generation, family moved in the US when he was 3

With all of that being said I'm very much enjoying keyframes and will draw more of the gang, Deja by far is my favorite character and Elio is my favorite LI, I will make a more proper post for these three but this is all you'll get for now. goodnight y'all

[drivinmeinsane]

City Life, Apple Pie

Driver x Reader ※ { masterlist } ※ { ao3 }

※ Summary: There’s a part of you that wonders if he would accept the brush of your fingertips over the back of his hand. If he would silently spread his fingers enough for yours to make a home between his. ※ Rating: G for general audiences. ※ Content/tags: Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, No use of Y/N, No Pronouns Given for Reader ※ Word count: 2,510 ※ Status: One-shot ※ Author's note: Another year has passed me by in this fandom and I'm no less captivated by so many of these characters. Happy 44th to Ryan Gosling. ※ Song inspiration: Apple Pie - Lizzy McAlpine

“You and the kid doing anything special tonight?”

Shannon’s voice cuts through the ambient hum of the overhead lights. You grit your teeth at the loud intrusion but you don’t turn your attention away from the sheets of paper littering the overcrowded desk. Ever since you started working for Picture Car Warehouse, you’ve been one of the many victims of the grizzled mechanic’s long-winded and largely one-sided conversations.

Instead of indulging him in glazed-eyed attention, you nudge an oil smeared wrench out of the way of a paragraph you need to look over. It leaves a black smear behind on the already smudged paper. One of the fingerprints that have been pressed into the corner of the sheet has a glaring interruption in the pattern that makes you think it was accidentally left by Driver. He’d sliced his thumb open on a piece of sheet metal just a few days ago.

Metal scrapping was yet another one of Shannon’s questionable business plans. He seemed to be a variable fountain of ideas. You’re honestly surprised he’s only ended up with a broken pelvis from all the bullshit he’s talked about pulling during his lifetime.

The older man clears his throat in lieu of any response from you and continues. “Now, if I were you, I might try a pie. Kid’s never been one for cake. Not that I’ve seen anyway. He’s always at that diner. You know? The one over on San Fernando? Jack's? I think? Something with a car in the name, maybe.”

“What are you talking about?” you finally ask, trying to rein in your exasperation. Looking up at him, you rub your thumb over the pen in your grasp’s clicker—not quite applying enough pressure to trigger the mechanism. You just want to get this insurance claim dealt with so you can go find Driver and the two of you can go home to your shared rental and you can be tormented with thoughts of how badly you want to kiss the crooked smile off your roommate while you watch TV crammed on the tiny couch that came with the place.

Shannon raises his eyebrows at you from his position leaning against the desk. He is clearly surprised you’ve spoken at all.

“The kid?” he says, slowly. “It’s his birthday tomorrow. Didn’t he tell you?”

Your stomach swoops unpleasantly with surprise. Driver hasn’t said a damn word about it. There hasn’t even been the vaguest suggestion of even what month he was born in. He’d left you completely in the dark to that personal detail. It had seemed almost unimportant while you had collected the crumbs of what you did discover, hoarding the small details like precious gems. You know that he likes the pale blue of spring sky the best. You know he doesn’t eat sandwiches because of his mother. You’ve learned that he flexes his fingers on his steering wheel when he’s done too many hours of driving and his joints ache. You think you’re realizing that he does love—quietly and intently. But you don’t know when his damn birthday is.

Of course he hasn’t, you think, he’d rather take a hammer to his own head than to be an inconvenience or let on that he actually has wants or needs.

“No.”

At this admission, Shannon laughs and claps you on the shoulder with a work-roughened hand before heaving himself off the edge of the desk to return to work with some effort. You know the brace he wears digs at him—Lord knows he’s rubbed at his perpetually bruised hip and grumbled about any hint of humidity enough that half the guys in the shop have offered to chip in and get the “old man” a rocking chair so that he has a designated place to sit for his scheming and bitching.

Halfway through the door connecting the garage to the cramped office that fronts the building, Shannon pauses. His voice is crackling with a barely concealed amusement as he makes a confession.

“He didn’t tell me neither. I snuck a glance at his license back when I hired him.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

Driver shifts the car into another gear. The action is preformed so smoothly that you almost can’t feel the subtle hitch as the old Malibu responds. No wonder Shannon has been singing his praises as soon as he’s out of earshot. Driver is good—almost unreal—when it comes to vehicles. His actions have always been able to speak more for him than any meager handful of words ever could.

He leaves his hand resting on the gearshift. You feel your throat go dry as you shoot furtive glances at it. It’s unfair, really, the way that the setting sun casts vibrant light over his skin. It highlights the contours of his fingers and sets the fine hair dusting down his arms and over the backs of his hands aglow. Letting your eyes linger, you can make out the silver flashes of old scars.

You look away.

You have to clench your hand into a fist to avoid placing it over his. You want to touch him so badly. It’s a desire that has kicked around in the unreasonable parts of your mind ever since Shannon forcefully introduced the two of you on the back end of some B-list car chase movie. It has only intensified since you signed a lease agreement for a shitty two bedroom apartment together.

There’s a part of you that wonders if he would accept the brush of your fingertips over the back of his hand. If he would silently spread his fingers enough for yours to make a home between his.

Your nails dig into your palm, biting like a badly trained dog. You can’t bring yourself to risk destroying your friendship with the quiet man at your side. It would be better to swallow down the bitter taste of unspoken admissions than to find yourself without his company at all.

Unable to take the usually comfortable silence of the ride home, you speak, thinking to the earlier conversation with Shannon. Your gaze is firmly fixated through the windshield. If you look at your roommate, you might cry.

“Cherry, peach, or apple?”

There’s a long moment of silence, so long that you’re not sure if he’s mulling over his response or if he’s that taken aback by your sudden questioning.

“Apple,” he says, voice soft. There’s a fondness in the depths of that one single word that you must be imagining.

“Okay,” you respond, swallowing down your own affection that threatens to bubble to the surface. You can work with that. There’s some apples taking up residence in a chipped bowl on the counter.

Scenery passes by. Neither of you make a stab at conversation for the rest of the way back to the apartment building. Silence has become second nature between the two of you. There’s an easy comfort in it.

───※ ·❆· ※───

“Got a job,” Driver says halfway through the movie you’re watching.

You look away from the TV.

The mechanic is sprawled out beside you on the couch, legs spread wide as he sags back into the worn material. His empty bowl from the dinner the two of you made together is perched on one knee. He’s close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off of his body. You feel drawn to it like a moth to a light. In the glow of the television, it’s so easy to imagine his arm draping over your shoulders and drawing you against the firm line of his body.

There has still been no mention of his birthday. You’re entirely certain that he’s going to just let it slip by without a word.

No real name, no birthday, no desires. He’s forcing himself to be a blank slate for the projection of others. It makes your heart hurt.

“What is it?” you ask, surprised that he’s going out after working at the garage since the sun teased the horizon and long after it tipped over the apex. Shannon has a tendency to overwork him.

He lets silence unfold after your question as fantastical plants come to light on the screen in front of you. You’re more intent on the minute changes in his expressions—a raise of his eyebrow, the flutter of his eyelashes against his cheeks—than on the movie.

Finally, Driver stands up. He holds his hand out to take your empty bowl. The brush of your fingers together as you pass it to him sends sparks through your stomach.

“Just taking some guys ‘cross town. Might take a coupla hours." He heads towards the kitchen with his cargo.

You follow after him, taking up residence in the doorway as he scrubs the bowls clean and sets them in the drying rack beside the sink. Wanting to be of some use, you lean over to snag his jacket off the hook by the front door. You offer it to him when he turns away from slipping the hand towel back over the oven handle. He takes it from you with a warm squint of his eyes and shrugs into it. The slick material shines blue from the distant television lights.

“Be careful,” you tell him. You want to kiss him goodbye. You don’t move.

There’s a pregnant silence. Palpable tension fills the air. The two of you are on the cusp of something.

The bubble doesn’t burst. The wheelman just nods and slips out the door, locking it behind him with a twist of his wrist. You let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding.

His departure gives you time to pour over the battered cookbook some previous tenant had left behind in one of the kitchen cabinets. You should have just enough time to attempt making a pie. It can’t be that hard, surely. People have been making pies for centuries.

───※ ·❆· ※───

It proved to be a difficult task, far harder than you could have ever thought. You wipe down the counter, cleaning up the last traces of what had felt like an hour and a half fight for your life. You toss the rag over the sink faucet and look at your finished project with despair.

The pie is awkward and lumpy—almost a bad finger painting come to life.

Fuck. You know you should have walked to somewhere, anywhere, or coughed up the money for a taxi to find one made by a professional. This looks like shit.

A lump builds in your throat, quickly followed by involuntary tears leaping to your eyes. He’s done so much for you just by being a steady presence in your life for the past few months. The least you could have done was make him something presentable

Your self-pity is cut short by the solid step of boots outside the door, followed shortly by the clatter of keys making contact with the doorknob. Driver is home.

Nervous, you brush your hands over your face and gather yourself. With more confidence in your voice than you feel, you call out, “Welcome back.”

In response, you hear the rustle of a jacket being stripped off and folded under one arm, closely followed by a quiet exhale. The mechanic appears around the corner. Upon seeing you, a crooked smile slowly spreads over Driver’s face. He tosses his keys onto the counter with an easy motion of his arm. You’re blocking his view of the pie.

“Somethin’ smells good.” He sounds tired. There’s exhaustion lining weighing down the corners of his eyes.

“I…” you start, trailing off. Rallying yourself, you try again. “It’s not midnight yet so…”

Confusion creases the space between his eyebrows and he opens his mouth to speak, but you’re already turning and gesturing to your sad attempt at making pie.

“I know it’s not much, but happy birthday.”

Driver goes still and steps to your side to stare down at the misshapen dough. Apple juice and sugar have bubbled to the top, caramelizing into crispy, golden puddles. The expression on his face is almost too fragile to put a name to.

“How did you know?” The words he utters are barely more than a whisper.

“Shannon. He told me this afternoon.”

There’s a pause before he speaks, voice laden with helpless affection, “’Course he did.”

You feel like you’re about to fall over the edge of some unseen precipice. Vertifo threatens to overwhelm you. Shakily, you set to work carving Driver out a slice a pie. The mess you deposit on the plate could pass as a crime scene. You’re careful not to meet his eyes as he takes the plate from you after discarding his jacket onto the counter, covering up his keys.

The kitchen is filled with the low groan of the fridge kicking on. There’s the sudden whoosh of water darting through the pipes when one of the neighbors overhead turns on their sink. The scrape of the stunt driver’s fork is loud enough to echo in your mind while you stare at the glistening mixture in the pie pan still clinging to the void where the slice had been. Your chest feels tight. The lump in your throat is persistent.

Driver sets his plate on the counter with a soft clatter. A cautious glance reveals that it’s empty. He’d all but licked it clean.

“Hey.” His voice is quiet. Tender.

It’s tender enough that you look at him. That familiarly crooked smile is tugging at his lips. He reaches for you. Warm fingers brush against your side as he crowds into your space. The fabric of your shirt hardly feels like a barrier.

You barely get a breath out before he’s kissing you. He tastes like sugar and the cloying sweetness of baked apples. It’s all you can do to find his arms and hold onto him like the lifeline he’s come to be. He is sturdy underneath your clinging hands.

Much to your displeasure, Driver pulls back. He stays close enough that his nose brushes yours as his eyes seem to be searching yours for an answer to an unspoken question. Tension leaves his face as he finds it.

“Thank you for…” he lets the rest of the sentence die out, breath hitching in response to your touch.

Your hands slide over his biceps on their journey upwards. One takes residence on his shoulder while the other slips between his shoulder blades. Your fingers find their way into the short hair at his nape.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you respond and press your mouth against his in another kiss.

Eagerly, he accepts the affection. He sways on his feet, chasing after you when you break the contact. His lips brush over your cheek and you stop him in his tracks with a light touch on his sternum before taking his hand. His calloused fingers intertwine easily with yours as you lead him in the direction of your bedroom.

There is still some time before his birthday is officially over. You want to make the most of it.

Do not repost, copy, or reproduce my work to other sites or in other media formats. Do not use it for anything to do with AI. Thank you.

[dystopyx-blog]

IDEAS FOR TWST OCS:

I have a few

they are in their very baby stages of creation, not at all fleshed out. Really these are just ideas for ideas. all character ideas are beast men. Not on purpose, just how things turned out.

CHAR 1

Name: [name pending] AKA “Dummy the Clown!”

Twisted from: Dumbo

gender: tbd, prob male

school: prob royal sword

dorm (if applicable): First idea is for a dumbo character because,,,,,,,, clowns

just an absolute baby

floppy lil fella, melts like puddin in your hands under praise/affection

Self image issues out the WAZOO. Copes by being a clown. Because as a clown, they have more control over how people perceive them. Yes they’re a goofy little failure, but this time it’s for comedy, and not because, well… they’re a failure. They’re a performative failure, playing up every single little mistake or incident, like “whoops, silly me, oh I’m such a goober!” Internally most of those mistakes are like a fuckin dagger to the heart for them. can you imagine,,, cute lil elephant beast man,,,, with big ol floppy ears,,,,,,,,

Secretly loves being called cute, because at least “cute” is positive

Prob goes to Royal Sword.

CHAR 2

Name: tbd (thinking Georgie but that might be too on the nose)

Twisted from: Georgette from Oliver and Company

gender: tbd, but thinking genderfluid

school: tbd

dorm (if applicable): if in nrc, definitely pomefiore

Only the vaguest ideas for this one, but I neeeeeeeeed a Twst oc based off of georgette. yall don’t even fuckin understand, “Perfect Isn’t Easy” is literally my all time favorite Disney song. did you know none of the songs from that movie are on Spotify?? Fuckin criminal. There are covers, Annapantsu covered “why should I worry” and someone named Sienna? I believe? Covered Perfect Isn’t Easy but you don’t UNDERSTAND, GEORGETTE WAS VOICED BY BETTE MIDLER I NEED THE ORIGINAL ON SPOTIFY I NEED ALL THE OLIVER AND COMPANY SONGS ON SPOTIFY— Y’all it’s not even a good movie and I fucking hate Charles dickens, why tf am I so attached to this movie???

oh yeah

Georgette

so I need a twst oc based off of her. I’m imagining a fabulous little genderfluid beast man. Bitch def in pomefiore. Georgette isn’t technically a villain but hear me out hear me out

I want the fab poodle and Ruggie to kiss 😳

in the movie, Georgette ends up with the scruffy little Chihuahua

I am imagining Georgie here being a fuckin 5’12 god/dess in massive heels, towering over a scruffy lil man. maybe even Epel, fuck if I know!

CHAR/s 3

Name:

Twisted from: the fuckin vultures from jungle book

gender: male

school: nrc

dorm (if applicable): savanaclaw

You don’t understand. No, you don’t understand. You couldn’t possibly understand

why?

because I don’t fuckin understand. but the vulture song (that’s what friends are for) was like… my favorite fuckin song. I don’t know, I don’t fuckin know. BUT

just imagine

a hippie dippy lil shitty vulture boy

mans probably stoned outta his mind

he’s a big scary vulture beast man

but he’s just a fuckin goober. also fuckin smarter than you think (like real vultures)

food for thought.

FINAL CHAR IDEAS

I want to make some Peter Pan boyos

obv I need a Captain Hook and smee but rn all my thoughts are

Name:

Twisted from: Tick Tock Croc from Peter Pan

gender: male

school: either nrc or a fan school idk

dorm (if applicable):

Y’know what

I’m just gonna make my own goddamn school. see yall in the next post.

[dailydemonspotlight]

Pixie - Day 110

Race: Fairy

Arcana: Lovers

Alignment: Neutral

September 13th, 2024

Kept you waiting, huh? As the unofficial mascot of the series next to Jack Frost, Pixie is no doubt among the most famous symbols relating to the series. While SMT itself is a relatively niche franchise, (surprisingly, given its connection to the giant that is Persona,) if you ask someone with even the vaguest familiarity of SMT to name a demon, it'll likely be Pixie. She's the tricky first partner of Nocturne, a frequently recurring character throughout many of the games in the series, and a perfectly emblematic figure for everything SMT as a whole is about- whimsy mixed with intrigue, with a slight splashing of horror. After all, Pixies are more than just pretty faces in the stories they originate from, so let's delve into the strange world of this archetypal fairy's past.

Pixies are actually a very common motif throughout much of England- while most famously originating in Great Britain, they recur in several areas, tying them to Celtic folklore closely, as their name may also originate in said Celtic areas. However, this has been disputed, as some argue it originated from the Swedish 'pyske,' meaning 'small fairy,' so the overall origin is rather controversial. However, we can pinpoint a concrete origin for Pixies, at least in some respects, in the towns of Cornwall and Devon, a pair of British towns who share quite a bit of mythology regarding said pixies. They're overall said to have a humanoid stature, though their actual size is up for debate in several stories- some paint them as being human child sized, others far smaller, though the general pop-culture consensus is them being very small, likely due to their role and importance in one of the most famous Shakespearean plays, A Midsummer Night's Dream. I'll save that talk for an eventual Oberon discussion, as we're not quite there yet, but they're very intrinsically connected to said play.

Pixies were very connected to magic and paganism, such as concepts like fairy rings, though they were separate beings from 'Fairies' themselves in some cultures- it's a very case-by-case basis, unfortunately, as sometimes Fairy is used as a catch-all term for small winged humans, and sometimes pixie, sometimes they're used interchangeably, etc, etc. Around southern Devon, an area known as Dartmoor, Pixies were a rather prevalent group who would commonly play pranks but were generally helpful, sticking around children and disguising themselves as children or as bundles of rags to catch their attention. Pixies seem to be generally agreed to not be malevolent, though they can cause quite a bit of indirect harm with their antics, whether it be playing around with children causing them to disappear or playing frequent pranks on adults in communities. Most famously of these pranks is one in which they cause a traveler to become 'Pixy-led,' in which they, well, lead a traveler astray and cause them to wander about aimlessly. To make up for this, though, Pixies are also said to frequently do housework and generally assist humanity when they need help, though this is still broken up by frequent pranks.

In terms of appearance, Pixies are generally seen as wearing very little, though there appears to be a very high valuing of bows within their culture- for the most part, they're generally naked, are very small, have a pair of wings, and look very young. While harmless for the most part, they punish neglect of children by stealing them away while playing with them from their parents, something that is actually far more of a general fairy thing to do, albeit minus the changelings. They're overall seen as a rather positive part of the British countryside, bringing joy and help in equal parts to many, though again, their propensity for bothering others and playing pranks may catch the ilk of some. Now, with all of that gone over, in terms of design in SMT... what is there really to comment on? If you think of pixie, you probably think of the SMT pixie, as it's a perfect microcosm of basically everything a Pixie actually is. 10/10, no notes. In terms of the games, Pixies are typically very early-game demons who have a specialty in magic, tying into their magical roles in folklore, and in many games they're actually the starting demon, most famously being in Nocturne, wherein if you take your pixie to the very end of the Amala Labyrinth, you can unlock...

SSSUUUUPERRRR PIIIXIIIIIEEEEEEE!!!!!!!

Which is probably one of the most iconic Easter eggs in the series. Overall, Pixie is an incredibly iconic and fun demon in the series, and one that I, and many others, absolutely love. Granted, I'm sure some have PTSD from the Demi-Fiend fight in SMT V, but... hell, whatever, it's Pixie.