#and get even mildly popular

[vocalsynthbdays]

Bebo Akapane’s birthday is coming up on October 29th. Just a heads up. He’s not that well known but theres one person who makes covers with him! Im friends with said person btw!

- Bebo’s voice provider

oh thank you for letting me know !! i absolutely do not mind posting about unknown synths; ive got some with like literally zero covers, or with no wiki nor db entries, so ill gladly post about bebo !

[cable-salamdr]

Nah man this 8ft black and white thing wandered onto my lawn AGAIN this is the third time I’m calling his husband to come pick them up!!!

(dsmp posting in 2024?? When the last thing I’ve drawn digitally of them was in April 2022???? Wiiiilllddd. What am I even doing.)

[atalana]

supergiant you can't keep toying with my heart like this re: aro mel

[xmoonlitxdreamx]

for other reference: my roadhog ships are much less varied, sorry;; my roadhog ships are roadrat (truly mainly this), roadhog/lifeweaver, vaguely some degree of mercyhog, and vaguely toadhog. But i also imagine roadhog being kinda down for whatever as long as junkrat is there too. (????)

[mamawasatesttube]

the roulette wheel of which of one's given fics actually get attention on ao3 vs which really don't is so strange. i guess people overall generally prefer short fic (which i already knew but definitely am seeing further reinforced!) and also don't tend to read things tagged for heavier angst so much? but it's kind of funny that the fic i wrote in like an hour and didn't edit at all last night already has more kudos than amok tim, which i was working on in bits and pieces since august and edited a fair amount. the mystery of what does and what doesn't attract people's interest continues on...

[ottiliere]

I love crawling out of the depths, opening up tumblr, and seeing your art. I love it.

it is quite interesting how social media can fall to the wayside, and people on the internet can just disappear forever if they really wanted to! I admit I struggle to keep up with "public accounts", they are uniquely stressful and I solute your hibernating tenacity. always lovely to see you resurface regardless, thank you very much for the lovely compliment...

I will say in case any of my dear followers were wondering where i've gone for the past month and a half, for weeks i've been pondering how to even broach the enormity of the topic that is: I made the mistake of thinking about my most favorite character for more than 2 minutes in one sitting. I intentionally go out of my way to avoid this and have many strategies to evade this occurring because every time I do enter a sort of hermetically sealed mental chamber where it's just me and him and his life and I begin to ignore all points of previously established social contact and also my health indefinitely. It's difficult to convey the emotional experience of this or its psychic magnitude. and it's hard to say "guys i really love this character!" because that's just words. you can't see it. the 10 years of obsessively thinking about some guy so intensely on&off cyclically until you've made 20 different worlds he's living in... how does one convey the depth of these without artistically depicting them as you see them to be...? i am trying to figure it out. currently planning a longform comic for my favorite and several smaller comics for others, but logically an individual can understand this takes a while... he and I have had multiple rendezvous over the past decade and I wish I had more "historical" art to show but for many of these years I have been a bit too physically disabled to draw, the past several weeks have been spent attempting to recreate his ideal form as he exists in my head. he is starting to come around!

I typed up three separate disquisitions last month to try and explain my feelings on him and none of them felt like the proper vessel to communicate this concept. which is likely for the best. the obvious answer is "just draw him". fine with this being the case, difficult when I have so many drawing ideas I'm now sitting on 100+ works in progress and they just keep accumulating since my brain generates these like an old laptop you leave in the corner of your room to mine bitcoin. in a way I'm content with this being a very "personal" experience thus far, shared with me and those in my inner social circle (really cannot emphasize to my readers enough how fandom can poison your constitution without self-checked moderation). however... I yearn to meet others who are as passionately involved with him as I am, because I think we could coalesce our ideas, and passion, into something beautiful...

^dio brando

[yourhoeshorses]

Wait a second... can someone with more understanding of fandom cultures explain something to me?

Do people ship characters because they believe they are going to be a cannon thing????? I thought it was just for fun?? I'm like, oh these two characters seem fun together, what if they dated. I just be mixing and matching these bitches I legit dgaf if it actually happens or not.

Maybe it's just whatever weird end of tiktok I'm on, or maybe it's just something I never picked up on until now, but like,,, people will say, "oh these ships are invalid cuz they won't be cannon" OK????? AND??? It's just fun

Like I remember being a kid and watching shows and my friends being like oh did you see that (insert ship name) scene???? Like girl I don't care. Two characters could never have interacted and I'm gonna ship them.

And that's all I thought it ever was? Is it like,, different now or some shit?

[fantastic-mr-corvid]

im only about a thousand words off have posted more words on ao3 this year so far than last year and the year before combined... and im so so much happier with ever single piece of writing!

[windupaidoneus]

hiii cat blinks @ u .. dimitri for the bingo if ur still doing these

youre in luck...... i love having opinions!!!!!!!!

dimitri is. a tough one. i think he has a lot of potential & i can easily imagine a world in which he's given the treatment he deserves by the writers. i used to not like him because 1) i fucked up pretty much everything pre-timeskip support wise & only recruited lorenz which was pointless anyway bc he was gonna join me regardless. lmao. lol., but this means i didn't get the Better version of post-timeskip dimitri, & 2) i associated him with the classmate who lent me the game when i first played it bc he'd pretty much told me like, "yeah you Have to start with blue lions bc i'm such a huge dimitri fan" & like. the flaws that i found in that classmate very much made me go "oh i see why you like dimitri" in a very uhh negative light!!! but now it's been a few years i can def see the good in his character beyond being the guy the most annoying pedantic victim complex-having white cis dude youve ever met would latch onto. he is not dimitri. he will never be dimitri. dimitri is far better. & i i like him despite the mental illness & trauma being written the way it is. fire emblem does Not have a good track record with writing mental illnesses so it'd be unfair to hold it against him specifically when he's a victim of the writing etc etc ... all this to say if he needs a hug i can give him that & i'm sorry about all the miseries & stuff. OH ALSO GIVE ME THE OPTION TO SPARE HIM IN VERDANT WIND WHAT THE FUCK

[iohera]

the way people talk about fall out boy on this website is weird. if you say stuff as a grown adult like "if you don't like (album) you suck" and that people are fake fans if they don't like a certain album or albums, even if you think they're underrated, then you are probably not appreciating the band on a musical level but rather on a strange parasocial fandom level. which like, fine, i'm definitely guilty of that at times too but some fall out boy fans take that shit too far lmfao

like, they're just a band. no one has to like everything they make, and honestly that's probably a good thing. acting like you have to defend these multimillionaires against any even very mild criticisms like "i don't personally like every album in their discography" is a bit silly in my humble opinion! it is, as they say, "not that serious"

[darkwood-hollows]

anyways i think it's really fucking weird that when people treat creators, blog owners, artists/writers, etc. in the rudest, most unreasonable way the dialogue becomes "well that creator/blog owners/artist/writer shouldn't be online" and not "maybe we should treat other users online with respect and dignity."

[korattata]

jfc

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

The thing with the Mari Lwyd, though, is that it's being... I don't know, 'appropriated' is the wrong word, but certainly turned into something it isn't.

Thing is, this is a folk tradition in the Welsh language, and that's the most important aspect of it. I feel partly responsible for this, because I accidentally became a bit of an expert on the topic of the Mari Lwyd in a post that escaped Tumblr containment, and I clearly didn't stress it strongly enough there (in my defence, I wrote that post for ten likes and some attention); but this is a Welsh language tradition, conducted in Welsh, using Welsh language poetic forms that are older than the entire English language, and also a very specific sung melody (with a very specific first verse; that's Cân y Fari). It is not actually a 'rap battle'. It's not a recited poem. It is not any old rhyme scheme however you want.

It is not in English.

Given the extensive and frankly ongoing attempts by England to wipe out Welsh, and its attendant cultural traditions, the Mari is being revived across Wales as an act of linguistic-cultural defiance. She's a symbol of Welsh language culture, specifically; an icon to remind that we are a distinct people, with our own culture and traditions, and in spite of everyone and everything, we're still here. Separating her from that by removing the Welsh is, to put it mildly, wildly disrespectful.

...but it IS what I'm increasingly seeing, both online and in real world Mari Lwyd festivals. She's gained enormous pop-culture popularity in recent years, which is fantastic; but she's also been reduced from the tradition to just an aesthetic now.

So many people are talking/drawing about her as though she's a cryptid or a mythological figure, rather than the folk practice of shoving a skull on a stick and pretending to be a naughty horse for cheese and drunken larks. And I get it! It's an intriguing visual! Some of the artwork is great! But this is not what she is. She's not a Krampus equivalent for your Dark Christmas aesthetic.

I see people writing their own version of the pwnco (though never called the pwnco; almost always called some variant on 'Mari Lwyd rap battle'), and as fun as these are, they are never even written in the meter and poetic rules of Cân y Fari, much less in Welsh, and they never conclude with the promise to behave before letting the Mari into the house. The pwnco is the central part to the tradition; this is the Welsh language part, the bit that's important and matters.

Mari Lwyd festivals are increasingly just English wassail festivals with a Mari or two present. The Swansea one last weekend didn't even include a Mari trying to break into a building (insert Shrek meme); there was no pwnco at all. Even in the Chepstow ones, they didn't do actual Cân y Fari; just a couple of recited verses. Instead, the Maris are just an aesthetic, a way to make it look a bit more Welsh, without having to commit to the unfashionable inconvenience of actually including Welsh.

And I don't really know what the answers are to these. I can tell you what I'd like - I'd like art to include the Welsh somewhere, maybe incorporating the first line of Cân y Fari like this one did, to keep it connected to the actual Welsh tradition (or other Welsh, if other phrases are preferred). I'd like people who want to write their version of the pwnco to respect the actual tradition of it by using Cân y Fari's meter and rhyme scheme, finishing with the promise to behave, and actually calling it the pwnco rather than a rap battle (and preferably in Welsh, though I do understand that's not always possible lol). I'd like to see the festivals actually observe the tradition, and include a link on the booking website to an audio clip of Cân y Fari and the words to the first verse, so attendees who want to can learn it ahead of time. I don't know how feasible any of that is, of course! But that's what I'd like to see.

I don't know. This is rambly. But it's something I've been thinking about - and increasingly nettled by - for a while. There's was something so affirming and wonderful at first about seeing the Mari's climb into international recognition, but it's very much turned to dismay by now, because she's important to my endangered culture and yet that's the part that everyone apparently wants to drop for being too awkward and ruining the aesthetic. It's very frustrating.

[alpaca-clouds]

Why the media CEOs will always learn the wrong lessons

Yesterday a friend and I talked about how the entire (AAA) game industrie looked at BG3 being as popular as it is and going: "Oh, we need to produce 100+ hour games, I guess! Those sell!" Which... obviously is not why it is popular. The game is not popular because it has 100+ hours of gameplay, but because it has engaging characters, that are well-acted and that work as good hooks for the players. Like, let's face it: The reason why I so far have sunken 160 hours into this game is, because I wanna spend time with these characters - and because I wanna give them their happy endings.

But the same has happened too, just a bit earlier this year, right? When Barbie broke the 1 billion and every Hollywood CEO went: "Oh, so the people want movies based on toy franchises! Got it!" To which the internet at large replied: "... How is that the lesson you learned from this?"

Well, let me explain to you, why this is the lesson they learn: It is because the CEOs and the boards of directors at large are not artists or even engaged with the medium they produce. They mostly are economists. And their dry little hearts do not understand stuff more complex than numbers and spread sheets.

That sounds evil, I know, but... It is sadly the truth. When they look at a successful movie/series/game/book/comic, they look at it as a product, not a piece of art or narrative. It is just a product that has very clear metrics.

To them Barbie is not a movie with interesting stylistic choices that stand out from the majority of high budget action blockbusters. It is a toy movie with mildly feminist themes.

Or Oppenheimer is not a movie to them with a strong visual language and good acting direction. No, it is a historical blockbuster.

And this is true for basically every form of media. I mean, books are actually a fairly good example. In my life I do remember the big book fads that happened. When Harry Potter was a success, there was at least a dozen other "magical school" book series being released. When Twilight was a big success there was suddenly an endless number of "teen girl falls in love with bad boy, who is [magical creature]" YA. When the Hunger Games was a success, there were hundreds of "YA dystopia" books. Meanwhile in adult reading, we had the big "next Game of Throne" fad.

Of course, the irony is, that within each of those fads there might have been one or two somewhat successful series - but never even one that came even close to whatever started the fad.

Or with movies, we have seen it, too. When Avengers broke the 1 billion (which up to this point only few movies did) the studios went: "Ooooooh, so we need shared universe film series" - and then all went to try and fail to create their own cinematic universe.

Because the people, who call the shots, are just immensely desinterested in the thing they are selling. They do not really care about the content. All they care about is having a supposedly easy avenue of selling it. Just as they do not care about the consumer. All they care about is that the consumer buys it. Why he buys it... Well, they do not care. They could not care less, in fact.

So, yeah, get ready for a 20 overproduced games with a bloated 100+ hours of empty gameplay, but without the engaging characters. And for like at least 15 more moves based on some toy franchise, that nobody actually cares about.

And then get ready for all the CEOs to do the surprised Pikachu face, when all of that ends up not financially successful.

Really, I read some interviews yesterday from some AAA-studio CEOs and their blatant shock and missing understanding on why BG3 works for so many people.

Because, yeah... capitalism does not appreciate art. Capitalism does not understand art. It only understands spread sheets.

[sleeplessdreamer14]

𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌

fandom: gravity falls

relationship: stanford pines x reader

summary: the moment Ford realized he liked you. 

contains: stan being stan, the uh-oh moment, and pining

Ford wasn’t the most social person, to put it plainly. Despite his popularity amongst his teachers at school and the odd handful of classmates, he normally preferred his own company, otherwise his family’s. It had been that way for a long time, and it seemed like it would remain so for the foreseeable future.

And so it did. That is, until he met you, which he did not see coming. 

You had this welcoming presence about you, that much was clear by the way you spoke to him for the first time in the seventh grade, remaining mostly unfazed by his sixth digit aside from the initial surprise. The first time he caught himself rambling about parapsychology and anomalistics, he found no judgment or disinterest in your expression. In fact, you were actually listening, setting down whatever you were doing just to give him your undivided attention. That was a first. It felt nice to have someone (who wasn’t his brother or mother) listen to him. 

And the energy was returned, as he indulged your interests too. Before he knew it, Ford would often seek out your company, whether his brother was available or not, and the two of you could usually be found bouncing ideas off of each other. The room seemed to brighten when you came into view, your presence made him feel comfortably warm inside. Whenever you two parted ways, it always felt too soon, just like it did now.

“Oh my gosh.”

Stan’s voice drew Ford’s attention away from you as you left.

“What?” he asked, mildly perturbed by the wily grin on his brother’s face. Stan just chuckled and nudged him, “You’ve got it so bad, it’s almost embarrassing.” he teased, to which Ford lightly shoved him away, beginning their route back home from the pier. 

“Stanley, come on. They’re my friend just as they are yours. They’re good company.” he said, glancing off to the side, as if that could conceal the rosy pink hue on his face, but Stan remained undeterred. “Sixer, face it. You’re whipped with a capital wh-pshh!” he said, smacking one hand with his other for emphasis. 

“I am not- look, [Name] is very kind and a good friend, I appreciate that. It’s not like I lie awake at night thinking about them.”

Several hours later, it was well past nightfall and everyone in the Pines household was fast asleep, save Ford. 

Up on the top bunk, he laid on his back, hands folded over his midriff as his chest heaved slowly and his heart thrummed steadily beneath its surface. That warmth was still present, especially around his face. His conversation with Stanley had been playing on loop all evening.

Of course Ford liked you, heck, he was crazy about you. You were so nice to him and fun to be around, your enthusiasm was so endearing, and you never treated his abnormalities as though they were defects.

And you weren’t bad to look at either, of course, like earlier that afternoon on the boardwalk when the sun’s light highlighted your features. He could stare at you for hours. The way you diminished his resolve just by looking his way and smiling at him was so positively-

Oh.

Oh. 

“Oh no.”

Ford could just faintly hear a sleepy chuckle from his brother in the bunk below him. 

if this gets enough notes I’ll write a part 2

[loveinhawkins]

When Steve gets to his last year at Hawkins High, it feels like some kind of veil has been lifted right in front him. Or maybe it’s more that the veil’s actually been slowly lifting for years, and he’s noticing it all the more because it’s no longer there.

Either way, when he receives his yearbook, it doesn’t seem like the huge deal that his younger self would’ve made it out to be; he flicks through the pictures half-heartedly, doesn’t even care when the candid ones taken at sporting events catch him in unflattering poses, lip jutting out in concentration.

If he tried to voice his disinterest, Henderson would probably spout off some precocious shit about societal expectations, and Steve would pretend to nod sagely before stealing whatever dorky hat he happened to be wearing—it’s not like he could let the little shit suspect that he occasionally had a point, Steve would never hear the end of it.

The yearbook signings are predictably inescapable: people passing their books back and forth in class or in the cafeteria—and that one’s a risky move, with the threat of drinks spilling on the pages, whether accidental or malicious.

Steve thinks the fever’s dwindled out until he spends a free period in the school library. The seniors typically all bunch together in one of the far corners, the spots with the comfiest seats—loners included, like the perks of age for once outweigh the usual ridicule.

But that silent truce is not exactly being upheld, Steve notes—Eddie Munson is sitting alone at a nearby table.

It becomes painfully obvious when the signing starts up again. There’s a cluster of girls on the yearbook committee who initiate it, and soon every senior in reach is either passing over their own book or signing one.

Almost every senior.

It’s not like Eddie’s the only person ever to be held back. He’s not even the only one to be held back for next year, either: John Nelson off the swim team is in the same position, and he’s still been asked to sign.

But Steve knows that’s not what the source of exclusion is, not really.

He’s gotten good at spotting silent cruelty—good at avoiding it too, before his popularity gave him a temporary shield.

It’s all just bullshit, he thinks. It’s been a recurring thought lately.

He brings out his own yearbook because he knows it’s expected. When it’s finally passed back round to him, he ends up right near the seat opposite Eddie’s, just by chance.

But actually sitting there is his own choice.

He can tell that Eddie has spotted him even though he’s not looked up from whatever homework he’s doing; there’s a silent tension in the way he’s holding his pen.

Steve mulls it over before he asks the question. It could blow up in his face, but what did that matter, really? In the grand scheme of things, it would hardly count as a major embarrassment; it’s not like it’d be any more mortifying than telling his dad that he didn’t get into any colleges whatsoever.

So he pushes his yearbook across the table, because what the hell.

“Wanna sign?”

Eddie glances up. There’s a guarded look in his eyes, and Steve can almost hear him mentally replaying the question.

“Pardon?” Eddie says with pointed emphasis, like he’s daring Steve, let it drop and we’ll say no more about it, Harrington.

Steve doesn’t take it back. He shrugs and flicks open the yearbook, finds a blank spot and taps it once with his finger, a silent offer.

Eddie stares like Steve’s a riddle, like he’s wondering just who the show’s for—but the other students have turned away, have gone back to their seats, yearbooks temporarily forgotten.

Eddie’s hold on his pen relaxes, ever so slightly.

“You sure, Harrington?” he says. There’s still a wary edge to his voice, but there’s an undercurrent of something else, too, like he’s secretly amused despite himself. “Haven’t you heard what folks say? I could curse you.”

Steve scoffs. “That all you’ve got? I’ve dealt with way worse, man,” he says mildly.

A corner of Eddie’s mouth twitches into a surprised smile. Then it’s gone almost like it had never been in the first place, his gaze turning thoughtful rather than defensive.

And obviously this isn’t Eddie’s first rodeo at the whole senior year thing. Steve wonders if there’s a veil that’s been lifted for him too, wonders if he can see straight through it right now.

The bell rings.

Eddie stands up, gathering his stuff.

Steve thinks that’s the end of it: something that’s neither a success or a failure.

But then, lightning fast, Eddie darts across the table and scribbles something on the open page. Slams the yearbook shut and pushes it back over, and it feels like a challenge, like some of his caginess is back—like he’s just daring Steve to reveal that it had been a joke all along—

“Bet you’re counting down the days till you can hold your own copy, huh?” Steve says dryly, as he stuffs the book into his bag.

It’s a risk; he knows Eddie could easily take it as pure ridicule, could misinterpret it as Steve throwing the failed school years back in his face.

Eddie just shakes his head, but he could be laughing—the moment’s gone too quickly for Steve to know for sure.

“Nah, Harrington,” Eddie says easily, thrown over his shoulder as he leaves, “those things aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on.”

Steve doesn’t check the yearbook until he’s home. He eventually finds Eddie’s signature, simple black ink right in the upper corner of one page.

Good luck, Steve. —Eddie

Some of the letters are bunched a little too close together, drifting upwards on the blank page, as if they usually need lined paper to guide them—left-handed, Steve thinks vaguely.

Within a sea of scrawled nicknames and loudly enthusiastic messages, Steve finds that he kind of likes how mundane Eddie’s truly is. Likes the sign off with minimal fuss. Just “Eddie.” Likes how he was just “Steve”, too.

And yeah, if anyone needed to be told good luck, Steve thinks, with the kind of amusement that only comes from distance—pictures his past self, freaking out about monsters come to life.

He slots the yearbook into his bookcase. By summer he might forget about it altogether, left to gather dust as he works for 3 bucks an hour, but for now he marks its significance: something real, hidden alongside the bullshit.