#but the symbolism guys... the symbolism...

[digital-magus]

Guys, I think I speak for most of us when I say your holidays need less cannibalism (symbolic or otherwise) not more.

Cookies represent the body of Santa while the milk represents the blood of Santa

[mydirtyvalentine]

in light of oscar’s letter:

oh fuck you guys, oh god-

arthur really was his purpose.

he really did help him in any way that he was mentally, spiritually, and physically able.

even if that meant his letter, his words washed away long ago, now being used as a FUCKING SOURCE OF LIGHT?! to now guide arthur though his both literally and figuratively “darkest moments”.

(btw wild religious imagery and symbolism to be associated with oscar and fire/a guiding light)

[fishareglorious]

what the fuck are these cunts doing

[crimsonkat59]

when i say graphic design is my passion im referring to this

and this (which was more of a stroke of insanity than anything else):

(individuals under cut)

'was that impact font' why yes of course

'is the tabulian one just assumptions' yeah but like....they're kinda based

'is that a Cobra Kai quote' yeah I liked the Karate Kid movie and hated the show but he was real for those rules

[rendakuenthusiast]

There are good reasons to have criminal trials instead of having vigilantes with guns punishing criminals; that said Luigi Mangione is probably the accused murderer who most has it coming to get shot by a vigilante with a gun. Anyway I'm basically okay with the criminal justice system treating Mangione's murder as particularly bad in symbolic ways during the criminal justice process. I don't think it's any more objectionable than the people defending him because the guy he killed was a CEO. I might feel differently if there was serious doubt that he was the person who committed the murder, but that doesn't seem very likely here.

it's extremely critical that you see the photo of the perp walk for luigi mangione as being propaganda. i've seen so many people wave it off and instead fawn over his looks. and trust me, i know it ended up being kind of pathetic and weird - but please don't brush it off as a "modelling opportunity" for him. it's a fucking terrifying message the police are sending.

i want to make a few comparisons here, in case you're not from the US or familiar with why the perp walk thing is something to pay attention to. just to set the groundwork for why this is a purposeful, unusual, and cruel act by the nyc police - for why this is not a common occurrence and for why that matters.

the prosecution alleges the show of force is due to the charge of "terrorism." for comparison, in june 2015, tsarnaev was found guilty for the boston marathon bombing, which killed 3 people and injured hundreds. his actions are considered to be an act of domestic terrorism. i have spent the last hour looking through google for pictures of similar to mangione's perp walk - and so far, i have found zero. i also just do not personally remember a moment like that, despite living in boston at the time.

they allege that luigi is a stone-cold killer who carried out a longterm plan, making him particularly dangerous. again for comparison: in nyc, recently cory martin was found guilty of the killing of brandy odom. the murder was planned and premeditated to steal insurance money. and yet no staged perp walk. why didn't her life matter enough for a "show of force"?

but mangione gets paraded by a veritable army of police officers as if he is a rabid animal. for a single citizen who allegedly killed one other single citizen, the "largest perp walk ever" occurs.

so what is the "strong message" that the mayor and the police were trying to send here? the mayor speaks as if mangione is already convicted of terrorism. there is a very thin number of people who feel threatened by the CEO's death. none of us felt like mangione needs to be under massive armed guard.

the message is that you shouldn't resist. they are trying to "make an example" of him - that if you behave badly and kill a single rich person, you'll be treated as if you killed hundreds of people. you will be treated worse than a man who was found guilty of terrorism. you will be considered guilty without trial. the message is that the rich are a protected class, and you cannot touch them without massive punishment. they are trying to prevent a revolution by showing dominance and force against you.

the message is that the police are a puppet of the wealthy and that the law is not equally applied across class disparity. it is "some are more equal than others." it is "one life is more precious than another."

the show of force wasn't for luigi. it was for us. it was a warning. they are trying to remind us who is really in control.

[science-lings]

You know how Superman can super-change into his outfits? Do you think that if they’re in a rush, Bruce taught him all the ins and outs of the batsuit so he can change them both at super speed? Like no matter how fast that guy has taught himself how to get in and out of that thing (because you know he has) sometimes it has to be literally instant.

It’s like an insane show of trust, not many people know all the little tiny details that get updated every few months, the close batfamily might know how to take of pieces in case of emergency and the exact contents and placements of his belt, but Clark has a lot of hands on experience and the symbolism of him putting Bruce’s cowl on for him is neat too.

[weepingtalecowboy]

Koholint wasn’t real

Fanfic prompt : you know how in link's awakening you wake up on an island that turned out to be the dream of the wind fish

That made me think that every character on Koholint was created and written by the dream god

It chose for Marin to fall in love with link

It chose to let her know that it was a dream

It chose to let the monster be somewhat aware of the dream

It chose for link to traverse the island and have to collect the instruments

It chose for link to see an appearance of it called the wind fish

It chose to make koholint disappear

It had full control

Every thought every single decision made by all characters

The god is the writer of the story

But if Marin appears in the war of eras how can it be

Because the god chose for her to appear and help win the war

It chose the stakes it chose the characters to appear

It already had chosen who lives and who dies in the war

It chose for link to realize that everyone around him was a dream

It chose to torture him with the knowledge that everyone is gone

It chose to keep sending link on adventure since he was created by the god

Every pain every injury

It chose for link to feel it to see the loss to feel the pain

It knew how he felt about it

They watched him suffer from it

He was as real as Marin

A tool for the narrative

The goddess knew his pain and even worse his very realization that he knew the goddess knew

The goddess decided for him

The goddess controls every thought , every decision

Every loss and every pain

Him knowing means she decided to let him know she knows all his feelings

For she can make him forget just as fast

She wanted him to know that the island koholint was gone because of him waking the wind fish

She chose all his adventures all his decisions

Even his questions for her

Even his hatred for her

His hatred for hylia was decided BY hylia

Every foe he fought was decided and scripted by hylia

Because he was as real as a dream

Even as eight other links appeared it was on her decision

And he realized in the moment she allowed him to realize

That she decided he wouldn’t know

She controlled legend just as much as she controlled the sun

She controlled dusk and echo as much as she controlled his life

She controlled her blood's destiny

She controlled everything related to him

Because Koholint wasn’t real

And he wasn’t either

Not since koholint or prior

Or legend realizing that he isn’t fucking real and then realized that the knowledge that he wasn’t real was decided by the goddess

And that hylia knows his pain personally because she creates it for him and the very knowledge was given to him by hylia for drama

And he really doesn’t want to be her favorite but also if he is boring she would lose interest in him and then he would cease to exist

Hylia a writer for real and her OC is Zelda

And her favorite is Legend

Because legend is a concept she gave life

Legend is a doll of her making

And also because torturing your favorite pet since they became a concept

Killing all off its kind then bringing one back to fight in a war then shove it back in a drawer

Making the little doll think that it was responsible for it

And then forcing it to interact with other people who have free will is hilarious

Even funnier if you make it think that all your other OCs have free will and let them be unaware of your influence

(We really should rescue her pet bunny and her other critters from her she is a horrible person… she a writer fr …girl leave the Zelda's alone they want agency or does she just not make them want agency and fix the problem while legend is having a mental breakdown she forced him to have)

The chain must feel so horrified by the reality of all their Zeldas being Hylia's dolls and lacking agency

Like WTF hylia

[sagegreenconverse73946]

Analysis of Would You Fall In Love With Me Again

No no because you don't understand . . . .

There's like 3 ways I look at Penelope and Odysseus's reunion in Would You Fall in Love with Me Again

One:

Odysseus is pleading with her, begging her to understand that he is not the same man she married. He's done horrendous things, he is void of mercy and compassion. He. Is. Not. Odysseus. And that's why he's asking her if she would fall in love with him after knowing all the things he's done. He thinks she will have to fall in love with a different person. And hearing this instead of Penelope going like, " I don't care about what you've done; you're home now. That's all that matters." She instead asks him "What have you done?" she knows that he just has to get it out there, and once he does, once he thinks he's cemented to her that he's not Odysseus, Penelope's response is that "If that's true, if your not my husband, if your nothing more than a monster and not Odysseus, than do me a favor to bring me some peace and move our wedding bed away from here." And we've established that the wedding bed, the olive tree, is a symbol of their love, so Penelope's really asking, "If that's true and you're not my husband anymore, then destroy our love and cast it away." AND WHEN ODYSSEUS GOES, "How could you say this? Do you realize what you have asked me? The only way to move it is to cut it from ITS ROOTS!" which translates to "How could you say this? Do you realize you have asked me to destroy our marriage? The only way to move it is to KILL OUR LOVE!!"

AND ITS SO IMPACTFUL BECAUSE PENELOPE IS PROVING TO HIM THAT EVEN IF HE HAS CHANGED, HE IS STILL HER HUSBAND BECAUSE HER HUSBAND WOULDN'T DARE TO DESTROY THEIR LOVE AND CUT ITS ROOTS, AND THE MAN IN FRONT OF HER DOESN'T DARE EITHER, IN FACT HE'S ENRAGED THAT SHE'D ASK HIM TO FORSAKE THEIR LOVE, TO DO THE IMPOSSIBLE. BECAUSE IF HE TRULY WASN'T ODYSSEUS ANYMORE HE WOULDN'T HOLD THAT LEVEL OF LOVE FOR PENELOPE ANYMORE. AND THAT'S WHY SHE SAYS

"Only my husband knew that, so I guess that makes him YOU!!"

Penelope dismantled his whole argument. He asked if she would fall in love with him again, the new monstrous man that holds Odysseus's face. Penelope proved she didn't have to fall in love with him again, since he is still the man she knew, because if he wasn't the man she fell in love with, than that monster would have been able to destroy their wedding bed, and cut the roots of their love. But he is, because the man she married can't destroy their love, ODYSSEUS can't destroy their love,

their love is such a vital essence of his being that no matter what, if he still holds love for Penelope he is still Odysseus.

AND PENELOPE STILL SAYS SHE WILL FALL IN LOVE WITH HIM OVER AND OVER AGAIN

Two:

More Odyssey-accurate, I think. (I haven't read it through yet so I might need to eat my words)

Penelope asks, "Is that really you?" and it could be that she thinks its a trick at first, someone's disguised themselves as Odysseus mortal or god so she tests him. She asks him to do something only Odysseus and her knew was impossible, because for one man to cut down an Olive tree embedded into a palace alone is, quite literally, IMPOSSIBLE. If he had agreed and failed, mortal disguised as Odysseus. Succeeded? God.

Flabbergasted that she'd ask that of him? Odysseus.

Three:

EPIC Odysseus is the #1 Wife Guy, so when his wife asked him to do something that he physically COULDN'T, he broke down because GODS, NO, I'M A HORRIBLE HUSBAND BECAUSE I CAN'T FULFILL MY WIFE'S WISHES AND BRING HER SOME PEACE BUT PENELOPE WTF HOW COULD YOU ASK THAT OF ME AND EXPECT ME TO ACHIEVE IT?!?!?!

But yep, how I interpret those lines, honestly, I think its a mixture of all three MAINLY of perspective 1, a little bit of perspective 2, but l think despite Penelope's brain being like "We have to make sure." every essence of her being already knew it was him, and a slight hint of perspective 3 because it's funny.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk!!!

(pls discuss this with me if you want in the comments, guys I'm going insane)

[softness-and-shattering]

(Could someone please do an image description, I cant rn)

Youre making a good point, which is that life is more complicated than a story. The shooter isnt Katniss Everdeen in one fell swoop taking down the bad guy and we live in peace forevermore. Theres no one Bad Guy to kill and the empire crumbles. And even if there was, even if a leftist armed revolution would change things for the better, its a proces, and dreaming of glory and violence doesnt actually help the people on the ground, the ones who are most vulnerable who will die without meds and medical equipment and electricity and food and other very specific conditions I havent thought of. Even if a brief period of lawlessness would leave us a better world, youd have to sacrifice the modt vulnerable to get there and then who are you even building the world for anyway? Even being jailed long enough to miss a couple shifts and lose their job can ruin someone.

There needs to be a systemic change and it needs to be careful and thorough. Its gonna be a lot of ordi nary people and unsung heroes doing a lot of really boring but vital work.

I dont know if this dituation will make things worse in the long run, I think a lot probably depends on what goes down in the next few weeks to maybe months, idk how long this kind of thing takes. The true ripple effects might not even be properly visible for a generation, its hard to know what something means when we're experiencing it.

But yeah theres never gonna be one hero and one action that changes everything. Symbols are important and inspiration is important but alone they do nothing. It takes a lot of boring thankless work to make lasting change. And thats not a bad thing. Its just a thing to know.

And as always, remember Mangione is innocent till proven guilty. Dont let the media and the way everyones talking about him influence you to treat him as guilty, whether youre condemning or glorifying him or anything in between. Mangione is not the same person as the shooter unless and until its proven by fair trial.

Upholding Luigi Mangione as a class hero isn't actuality helping anything; not because killing the ceo was wrong (it wasn't) but because the man still maintains his innocence. You're doing no better than the cops and fraction of the public against the shooter's actions by treating Mangione as if he's unequivocally guilty.

Redirect your energy to fighting the police's bullshit prosecution and blatant public defamation of his image. Stop supporting him on the grounds of heroic actions. Support him on the grounds of there's still literally no proof he actually fucking did anything.

[senipsenipsenip]

Wait guys sorry I’m slow but the fact that Ford comes back from the portal and he starts wearing a red turtleneck. Red was always Stanley’s color, the red striped shirt as kids to the red of his car to the red of his hoodie the last time he and Ford saw each other before the portal.

There is of course the narrative symbolism of Ford having to become more like his brother in order to survive. He had to become every bit the wanted criminal his brother was in order to survive the multiverse. He had to fight and scrap the same way Stanley did.

There is of course, the other train of thought. He came home. He needed something warm to cover him. And if that safety could remind him of the brother who always protected him? Well. Red it was then.

[solardriftx]

Damon and Diana, Snake and Chameleon

in the context of chapter 1 i wanted to expand on some of the animal symbolism, particularly damon's symbol of a snake and diana's of a chameleon. buckle up yall!

while the biblical snake symbolism is obvious, i think lots of meaning can be derived from real world knowledge--in particular, the familiar image of a snake shedding its skin. snakes enter periods of heightened aggression when molting due to the sensitivity of their new skin, and i think this will be reflected by damon becoming much worse in the name of defending himself before he changes for the better. his initial distrustful mindset was proven right, the second he even *began* to trust someone it blew up in his face. while he was crying for a moment in the face of eva's death, this sorrow was quickly overrun by frustration and anger, particularly at diana's words.

additionally, while i'm not sure if exact genus/species of certain animals were intended or will become important to interpretation, i'd like to draw a connection between damon's snake symbol and a certain genus. from the green color and his american origins, i think he can be connected to opheodrys, a common genus of green snake from north america coming in two species of rough or smooth variety. these snakes are not commonly kept as pets due to their standoffish and defensive nature around humans, making them prone to biting. despite this, they're non-venomous and generally harmless. damon makes it clear when confronted that he does not intend to harm anyone. in fact, his monologues show he thinks much more about how he would respond if someone were to attack *him* instead, noting the physical advantage some of his classmates have (rough/smooth green snakes are very small). we can even tie these traits of non-venom back to the prologue trial, where he appeared very hostile despite genuinely thinking he was helping. and of course, a connection can also be made to damon's general personality of being outwardly cold when deep down he's just... a guy who gets easily embarrassed.

now onto diana! first off i was surprised she actually mentioned her animal and how it relates to her, i thought the motifs were going to be more of an unspoken thing. makes me wonder if any other characters will mention their animals. anyway, fun fact! chameleons don't change color to camouflage, they do it for thermoregulation and social signaling. for diana, i'm more concerned with social signaling, as chameleons can change into very bold displays of colors to communicate dominance, as paralleled by diana's bold display at the end of the first trial with the intention of rallying the others behind her. this could be a stretch, but diana's darker/bold color pallet could be a reference to the potential spectrum of colors that a chameleon would display under stress.

i find it funny though, that while diana says that she will adapt like a chameleon, keeping chameleons in captivity is notoriously hard due to their highly specific environmental requirements- be it temperature, humidity, or lighting, they're easy to accidentally kill. diana may claim with a brave face that she has the strength to fight this killing game no matter the struggle, yet someone with the stress sensitivity of a chameleon in a situation like this is doomed to buckle.

anyway...can you tell they're my two favorite characters. antag diana im so ready for you if you're real

[idlnmclean]

Shape studies that demonstrate how we "project" 3D objects to 2D.

This guy Scott McCloud wrote about different modes of representation in sequential imagery AKA comics.

When we write or draw, we create objects of significance. These objects of significance communicate about a signified with signifiers. Like, the dots of the simplest face on the right are signifiers for eyes; the leftmost face tries to line up the signified with the signifier, so the eyes represent eyes roughly true to how the artist sees a real life face. The signifiers contain information which we can interpret through our sensual experience of the signifier which for some normatitive and common experience between viewers translates to a common interpretation of the signified subject. That is to say that people with common sensory experience often experience art made by those same people in a similar enough way that they in some sense "see the same thing the same way".

We say that the visual language is more iconic the further it moves to the right and the further away from photorealism that it gets. Producing art that is photorealistic is producing something with high verisimilitude. Iconic works tend to be low verisimilitude. Scott McCloud made a further distinction and mapping of 2D art with written language in a kind of model of semantics and signification. Signification is the process of making a sign or an icon or a symbol that represents or refers to something else.

The thing is though that not everyone sees and experiences the world the same way. Some people look at a drawn face and see something more like the top of the pyramid, and I wouldn't be surprised if some people see more like words.

There's people like Aphex Twin that have visual-auditory synesthesia, so they perceive sounds that they hear visually or they hear things they perceive visually. Some people have problems perceiving other people's faces at all whether drawn or in person; this is called prosopagnosia; I know someone that basically can't read comic books because they have a hard time perceiving the sequence of visual information, and it is related to their difficulty in perceiving and identifying people by their face.

It is common among graphic artists that draw nearly photorealistic faces for them to experience a kind of functional hallucination when looking at 2D images. Not everyone that looks at a cube drawn on a 2D sheet sees the cube; some people see the square or see the lines but not the squares or cubes.

It is common for example for people to experience the visual illusions of viewing these:

Some people either can't see it, see one side of the illusion but not another; see both simultaneously; or see both alternatively but not at the same time.

This combines with our particular abilities to articulate. I for example have conductive aphasia, so I can use a wide variety of words and language, but every now and then I experience a block between what I think and what I am physically capable of saying; I like writing in large part because it avoids a lot of the conductive aphasia that I experience when I speak verbally.

Artist often have various differences in the way they sense and articulate the world around them. Van Gogh famously took a medication that changed how he perceived the color of the world giving his perceptions a yellow hue which he reflected in his painting and in the choice of colors for his works.

the person who can explain to me how to construct a face gets a million dollars. i've tried that thing with drawing a circle with a line on it a thousand times and it DOESNT WORK

[vengefultakeover]

Daemon: Leftover (1)

NOTE: This is the newest edited version of this story

The spiked disco ball reflected thick beams of light throughout the interior of that cavern and all of the daemons residing inside of the bodies of the island goers were cast out and turned into dust. The light penetrated them and their deathly allergy caused them to combust after the bodies expelled them. The thing about human skin is that it is a wonderful sunblock for the creatures.

The leftover daemons, the ones lucky enough to dodge the beams reflected into the cave, were abandoning the island if they could. One creature stuck to the shadows, hitching a ride on the last boat off the island and hiding in the pipes to keep from being seen. The passengers unloaded and the daemon hid until the the ship was empty and the cover of night gave the perfect opportunity to stride towards Crystal Cove in search of a new host. With the Daemon Ritus in the hands of Mystery Incorporated, this ancient being needed to resort to using his own powers to remove the protoplasm and provide an empty husk.

"Hello?" I turned the corner with my evening cup of coffee and blood shot eyes. I had seen something duck behind a dumpster, but its large skeletal-like form could never be completely covered by the trash container like a person hiding behind a telephone pole. The creature stood up and started taking large strides towards me, which of course made me spin on my heels and start sprinting. My foot got caught on something and I spilled my coffee as I rolled. I held out my hands, defending myself from the incoming attack.

"Wait! I can help you! Please don't hurt me!" My eyes shut tight and I could feel the daemon looming over me. I opened one eye first, looking up at the creature and then opened the other. I slowly stood up, hearing it breathe without looking away.

"Come with me." I waved it, urging it to follow, and every few steps I would turn back to find it sauntering along the same path I was taking. It would stay hidden, ducking behind different objects. Even though it was night, the streetlights still put it on edge. The fear dissipated from inside of me as it followed and the intrigue simmered until I could feel the warmth in my ears. It was hard to miss the new blasts about the events on the island, Scrappy, Mystery Incorporated, the daemons. Fred and his gang got a pretty good payoff for solving this mystery and the airtime really solidified their detective agency. Plus, who doesn't love a talking Great Dane?

A quick turn of my key and I was inviting the daemon inside my apartment. It ducked down pretty far, continuing to amaze me by its size. "Sorry for the low ceilings." I tossed my keys into the bowl by the door. I wasn't even sure if he knew what I was saying. It couldn't speak to me until it had a mouth to speak with.

I took out a sketchbook and started to draw from pictures, figures and items that might be needed to help it and then held it up. A symbol for water, another for the bathroom, and a figure of a guy with a little floating head next to it. I placed it in the claw so he it could communicate its needs. With one look, it pointed at the figure of the guy and then circled the protoplasm. It thudded over to the shelf and picked up a glass jar, handing it to me.

"Oh! To put the protoplasm!" The creature nodded. Good to know it could understand me. I felt bad watching it crunched under the ceiling. I turned to my phone and started texting a friend. I needed to return a book and even if he was a friend this would only temporary.

"Hey man, thanks for texting. I really needed this to finish this essay I'm writing and there's those chapters for class tomorrow. Practice just gets out so late." Dan had his hands in his pocket as I invited him inside and the creature was hidden away.

"Yeah, no worries, it's back here." I invited him down the hallway and into the back room where the creature was hiding. Dan followed blindly and I stepped out of the way as he entered the room. The creature had positioned itself behind the door and closed it once Dan and I cleared the threshold. I jumped back as it grabbed Dan's waist and pulled him up towards hi face with an unnatural strength. Dan was screaming, panicking in its grip before the daemon's green breath surrounded his body. Green smoky tendrils disappeared into his nose and he inhaled causing his eyes to roll back and his body to slump over. He placed him down on the bed and ripped off his shirt. Dan's body was lightly dusted with hair and his mouth hung open as though he was snoring. I stepped closer to watch what was happening, jar in hand and covered in dry paint.

The creature turned towards me, its eyes glowing green and it noticed I was enthralled. It took its elongated fingers and plunged them directly into Dan's chest. White and blue light surrounded the penetration and Dan's body writhed underneath the creature digging around inside his body for what would eventually be his protoplasm. Withdrawing its hand, the small head of my friend appeared and blinked in disbelief. He bobbed around for a moment, realizing he had no control over anything, and then panicked as I pushed the jar around him. I spun the lid on and covered it up on my night stand so he couldn't watch.

Turning my attention back to the creature, he crawled onto the bed and it creaked with each move. The daemon parted Dan's lips with one hand and with the other it brought its fingers together and started to push inside of him. Just as the creature's flesh hit his mouth, it started to turn into dust, flowing inside of him. It was the same dust that the creatures become when exposed to sunlight. Dan struggled beneath it as the creature adjusted to his body, and suddenly its feet lifted off the ground and disappeared inside. His mouth shut and he moved his lips around while it took over, limbs twitching and fingers curling. His eyes opened and glowed that beautiful green color I had seen earlier.

"Wow." I realized my vocabulary had been reduced to that one word and I was involuntarily stepping closer. I could feel the heat emanating from his body.

"Thank you." He said, standing up.

"You're welcome." I watched.

"You are not like other humans. Back on the island, even when we were told we had human allies, they were lying." He stared at me.

"I don't think you should have to suffer because you're different." I say.

"I'll remember that."

"Should I call you something other than Dan? Do you have a name?" I asked, my eyes glued to his form as he stood up. His skin was moving around as he got even more comfortable in his husk. As he stretched I just wanted to touch him.

"I like the idea of having a name." He started approaching me and pressed his hand against my crotch. I didn't realize how long I was hard for, the need for release was almost painful.

"You don't have one?" I whimpered.

"Never been given one. This body - can I keep it?"

"He should get his body back eventually, we can get you more bodies to inhabit." I stare into his eyes and then pull him into me. The idea of having this creature in this body forever was so tempting, but Dan was a nice guy. There were plenty of other assholes to hollow out.

"You care for this human even now." He squints.

"Yeah. But not like that." I realize we are incredibly close and he leans into my ear.

"I like Max." He grinds into me and kisses my neck.

"I like that." I say and suddenly our lips are pressed together. He is delicate at first, but then I feel the hard wall behind me and suddenly he is pushing into me with deep airy breaths. He takes off my clothes while we make out, pinning me to the wall with a pile of clothes forming at my feet. We spin and he's suddenly against the wall with his cock throbbing in front of him. His eyes follow me as I kiss his chest, pecking down towards his v-line, and finally landing on my knees as I swallow his cock.

His head falls against the wall and he opens his mouth to let out a small growl of pleasure. He grabs my head, forcing my mouth farther onto his cock and I want to smile as I feel the tip of his throbbing meat at the back of my throat. My hands hold onto him as he thrusts into my mouth and I can feel him starting to leak.

"This feels amazing." He moans, looking down at me with those piercing green eyes. With my tongue, I play with the tip before taking him all the way in again, choking as he moans above. His warm white juices fill my mouth and throat and I swallow as he convulses in pleasure against the wall. I look up at him with his cock still pulsing between my lips and he looks down at me. His fingers move through my hair as I pull off of him, picking myself up off the ground and letting him taste his load as we make out.

"How was that?" I asked, finally coming up for air.

"I want more." His eyes flashed green and I felt his cock harden again.

[oceanwithouthermoon]

okok let me finally do my analysis on kusuke and makoto parallels like ive talked about a thousand times (obvious warning that im gonna talk about incest, and also that im gonna be talking about a gag manga in a serious light so if that upsets you just go away ✌️)... yippee, perverted older brothers with unhealthy dynamics with their powerful younger siblings analysis!!

the most obvious parallel is in their interactions with the others sibling. they literally have the same exact meeting, they both go from being fake nice to "my sibling is special and youre not worthy of them"

not included in pictures but also note that kusuo got rid of makoto by calling on kokomi and kokomi got rid of kusuke by calling on her fans

"the second hes distracted, LETS GO"

"we're the only ones who can match up to each other"

kusukes idea of kusuo being inhuman also influences the way this is treated i think- he tells kokomi that marrying a beautiful man will suit her best and that kusuo is above that kind of thing (aka actual romantic and aesthetic attraction), and it seems that being the only ones who can measure up to each other is probably the closest, in his eyes, that kusuo can get to love (confirmed in my opinion by the marriage/engagement symbolism a few pictures down⬇️). thats why he thinks theyre the only ones worthy of each other even if he doesnt see kusuo in the exact same way as makoto sees kokomi. if that makes any sense :p these are obviously already parallel on surface level, but id say theyre even more similar if you look deeply into it

"i know everything youre thinking" and "everyone else looks like monkeys to me"

associating their sibling with heaven/god

a certain fixation on their sibling's body... top two are specifically them trying to see their sibling naked without consent

? not sure how to describe this. implications of engagement/marriage? this use of an explicitly romantic symbol actually confuses me in kusukes case but thats not really relevant here...

theyre the reason their sibling cant relax or be themself even at home... also note that kusuo specifically says that kusuos masochism (which i guess in some contexts masochism can be non-sexual but in this situation, since kusuke is canonically a pervert and there are several implications and allusions to sexual pleasure, it obviously means he gets SEXUAL pleasure from pain/humiliation) is the main reason he doesnt like him. likewise, kokomi is bothered by makotos overprotective and overbearing nature, though unfortunately she doesnt seem to be aware of his sister complex and thinks hes just being an annoying big brother.

not necessarily something that can be captured in a picture but theres also the fact that they both have pretty perfect lives but are still obsessed with their sibling and only their sibling, its all they really care about and their entire lives depend on them.

makoto is extremely attractive, charming when hes trying to be, and is a famous actor... he clearly gets girls. but he doesnt want any of them because hes stuck in his obsession with kokomi, shes the only girl he wants and its ruined his perception of other girls. he believes hes the only one that can be right for kokomi and touch her, and that likewise kokomi is the only girl he can be with. her presence dictates his life, he skips work just to follow her around and prevent her from getting involved with other guys. we only see maybe a few sentences from him where he isnt talking about kokomi, even when hes on tv.

kusuke is an attractive and charming genius, easily pulls girls, cambridge graduate, and is the favorite child in his family. but none of that matters, it only sets him apart from other humans and gives him a skewed perspective of anyone who isnt kusuo. he believes kusuo is the only person he can get that sadomasochistic pleasure from, and kusuo is the reason he developed it in the first place and he specifically seeks him out and coerces him into it. he really only cares about his family, theyre the only people in the world that are worth anything in his eyes, and his only interactions with anyone else have been using them as tools to get to kusuo. his life goal is (or was, before the end of cat tank arc) defeating kusuo. he has cameras in his familys house that hes presumably constantly watching, implied by him being ALREADY watching before his parents even called him about kusuos limiter.

[leejeann]

Pls tell me/us about your Cinderella Boy AU úwù

Oh hi Anon, I am SO GLAD YOU ASKED :D. I was literally working on it when I got this ask, very nice timing, friend

(i will, uh, try not to make this an excessive amount of paragraphs but bare with me, I'm a yapper).

So, tl;dr Cinderella Boy College AU babyyyy. Chase is a first year music theater major (he started a year late), and Buddy is a second year creative writing major.

(I don't actually remember if they're canonically the same age, but they are in this)

(also Deacon is here too, he's just over in med school but him and Chase hang out on weekends)

They meet through an Intro to Literature class that Buddy takes for his major and Chase regrets choosing as an elective credit. Eventually Chase has to accept that he Sucks So Bad at literary analysis and really doesn't want to fail a course in his first semester of college, so he reluctantly asks mr writing major to help him. Buddy agrees, with the trade off being that he's writing an anthology of short stories for a future capstone project and Chase has to read them and give feedback.

(Buddy says it's because he's aiming for a younger audience with some of the stories and if an idiot like Chase can understand them so can a kid. Secretly he just....doesn't have anyone else to ask and kind of just really wants someone else to read them so he saw the opportunity and took it. But you didn't hear that from me!).

They agree to those terms and off we go! Shenanigans and angst and rivals-to-lovers nonsense (my beloved) ensues!

Aaaand because i have little self control when I'm excited about an idea but no one irl who knows what the hell a cinderella boy is to talk about it with: a much longer explanation of the exposition is below the cut!

OKAY SO BASICALLY I had this funny idea the other day of a college AU where like the Intro to Lit class is an in-person/online hybrid, i.e., all the lectures and materials are posted online so people can enrolled in it as either an online or in-person class. Chase takes it in-person while Buddy couldn't fit the timeslot into his schedule and takes it online.

And like any basic college course, it has *drumroll* Online Discussion Posts! Objectively one of the most tedious assignments in any college class, and this class does 2-3 a week. This professor decided to try a Fun New thing this year, where all the posts and replies are anonymous to the students (he can still see them so he knows who did the assignment, obvs). Something, something, he wants to promote discussions between classmates instead of people just only ever replying to their friends or something. Chase wants to keep up his Branding™ and sign off his posts with his little tagline, but after the first post his professor says that "defeats the whole purpose" and "looks unprofessional." Chase signs off with a little star instead, which the professor reluctantly lets him do. (A few other students actually start doing it to with their own little symbols or emojis.)

Two weeks into classes and Chase is being DRIVEN INSANE by these discussion posts. No, no, not by the monotony of them. No, not by his lack of skill with literary analysis. Rather, there's one student in particular who just keeps replying to his discussion posts specifically and ALWAYS seems to have something to disagree with. And they're so pretentious about it. Chase knows it's always the same person because no one else in this mostly-just-an-elective-credit class is using words like "insufferable" and "colloquialism" and "alas" in a discussion post.

Something something, Chase does some sleuthing and figures out it must be one of the online students, which is annoying because he has no way to figure out who they are so he can tell them to lay off and chill the hell out. Until! Midterms roll around and some random new guy is just in the class for the test. Oh, it's just an online student who didn't want to deal with one of those stupid virtual proctor websites, and since he lives on campus anyway he asked if he could just take it in-person. Yeah, that's fair. But then the new guy says something (idk what yet) and the phrasing of it makes it click in Chase's head that Oh my god that HAS to be Buddy holy shit

(sidenote, in this story the name "Buddy" comes from Chase ranting to Deacon about the random anon student and sarcastically calling them Buddy as a joke. But then that nickname just sticks because when you're pissed off and ranting "Buddy" is so much faster to say that "that anonymous asshole from my intro to lit class" ya know? So like, save for Chase saying it in an angry reply to the anon student once or twice, he hasn't directly called Buddy, Buddy before until like he confronts him after midterms).

I haven't quite figured out the interim of how they go from "Oh my god that's the annoying anonymous dude" and Buddy not even realizing Chase is the Star-kid (.....ha) in those discussion posts–

((sidenote 2, electric boogaloo, the reason Buddy is so snarky on the discussion posts is because, naturally, he thinks literature is Very Important and that it's annoying how obvious it is that most of this class is just taking it as an elective so they aren't putting in any real effort to learning anything. The discussion posts are all literary analysis on short passages and his classmates do, like, the bare minimum for it. He doesn't just respond to Chase's posts in a snarky tone, but most of the students fully ignore his responses and do not improve and he decides they're a lost cause. Chase is also a lost cause, but sometimes Chase argues back and okay fine Buddy has to admit that's kind of entertaining. So Buddy always makes sure to respond to the one with the stupid little star at the bottom. As a treat))

–and to them being like, civil enough that Chase finally caves and asks Buddy to tutor him, but eventually they get there. And that's how we get to the rest of that tl;dr! Chase asks for help in class, Buddy agrees as long as Chase helps him with his creative writing projects, they start meeting up to work on classwork regularly and once a week or so Buddy brings a print-out of another short story for Chase to take with him after. And Chase does his best to return it with some amount of helpful annotations.

(I totally forgot until after I came up with that idea, but I actually kind of did that once in college. Except I wasn't a creative writing major, one of my good friends was. I was entering a short story in a competition once so I gave him a printed copy of it and he gave it back a few days later covered in annotations lol)

And I DO plan to include Buddy's short stories as their own things! I have a few ideas for them already, basically I'm going to write a few original short stories that I can insert as their own little in-between chapters whenever Buddy gives Chase a new one to read. They'd probably be posted at the same time as either the chapter before or chapter after it, depending on which chapter would make more sense to pair it with narratively.

I think the first will be some parody of Cinderella, because duh. But like less of a "Cinderella, but in a new setting" thing and more like from the pov of a totally different character, where the actual Cinderella plot is lowkey almost just in the background. Idk it seems fun and like something Creative-Writing-Major-Buddy would write. Or maybe I'm projecting because I just think it sounds fun to write. Or maybe both!

One specifically that's a minorly pivotal moment for them is actually just a short-story-ified version of a poem I wrote years ago, and the moment in the story is basically just Buddy felt it was an optimistic story, whereas Chase felt like it was really sad, and both are incredibly thrown off by the dissonance that realization creates.

Which is also kind of from personal experience actually! Small tangent, but that happened with the poem back when I first wrote it too. To me, it was a melancholy but overall optimistic poem about life. I shared it with some people and seemingly all of them thought it felt sad and almost hopeless. I was SO thrown off! Because I really felt like it was hopeful, not hopeless, but it felt like I was the only person who saw it like that. As silly as it sounds, that (plus a couple other personal reasons) made me struggle with writing anything for a long time because I was a little afraid of feeling so isolated by my own work again.

(In hindsight, I can see how it came across like that to them. It still remains one of my favorites that I've written though. I actually completely rewrote it to enter in a contest just a few months ago! The newer version is much better, and I think actually gets across the intended mood a lot more)

*ahem* So, uh, anyway! I amp all that up a bit in the story for the sake of ~drama~ of course, but that's where the general idea for that scene comes from. I've already written the scene actually! I just don't know how far into the story it'll happen yet.

I'm also still on the fence about how to include the keyple we know about in canon. I can't decide if I want to just make them like other students and/or friends who appear in the story, or if I just want to like really allude to them. Leave references in the stories Buddy writes or classwork they do or stuff like that, etc.

And I'm also-also on the fence about if I should give Buddy a fake name for sake of the plot. If I do, I'm definitely going to swap it for his real name once that's properly revealed. On one hand, being in a college setting it would make a lot more sense for Chase to find out his actual name early on, even if he still calls him Buddy to be annoying. But on the other hand, Buddy totally would refuse to tell Chase his name, also to be annoying, if doing that annoys Chase more than the nickname annoys him. But on a secret, third hand, it feels so weird to give Buddy a fake name lol. Like even if I wasn't a fast-passer I think it'd still feel weird.

Then again, depending on how slow I end up writing this, the free episodes might catch up to fast pass before I even need to worry about that and I can just use his actual name from the get-go.

Phew! That sure was fun to talk about! *scrolls back through this post* oh yikes, uh, well you asked for it anon! If you actually read this far down, thank you, bless, I warned you that I yap but I appreciate your fortitude very much lol

I have no idea when I'll start posting the fic bc I worry about like getting through a couple chapters, posting them immediately, then losing steam and just....dropping it or taking forever to update after. So I want to get at least a few chapters written before I start posting any, ya know? But I've been wanting to get back into creative writing for a LONG time so I'm really going to try to stick with it! Just, bare with me if it takes a while lol

[societyfolklore]

Loki’s Gift-Giving Guide to Mortal Relations

Title: Loki’s Gift-Giving Guide to Mortal Relations Summary: Loki, in an attempt to ingratiate himself with the Avengers, begins leaving them macabre 'gifts' Word Count:  1.7k

Warnings:  Silliness! Fluff nonsense- humor… (Well not funny funny.. just..this is a silly post)   No beta read, and not super thought out either…just go with it it's Christmas damn it! A/N: Not my idea, inspired by a post made @mycroftrh that has now become whatever this is now...since it’s Christmas (ish)

The Avengers were used to weird things happening around Avengers Tower. It came with the territory of being Earth’s mightiest heroes. They had fought alien invasions, battled rogue AIs, and stopped countless catastrophes, but this-this was something entirely different. For the third day running the group was met with the decapitated bodies of a number what looked to be HYDRA agents. Dumped at their front of their doorstep-neatly tied up with glowing green runes spelling out-

‘To the Avengers, with admiration’-it was becoming, disgusting clear that Loki was up to something…bizarre.

“What the hell is this?” The groan came from Stark while taking in the scene from the lobby, arms crossed as the team stared at the latest ‘gift.’ “Is this supposed to be a threat? Some weird, magic mafia message? Are we being punked?”

Natasha crouched next to the mess, her sharp eyes narrowing as she examined them with her usual no-nonsense precision. “It’s Loki. Has to be. Who else uses this much flair for something so unnecessary?” She gestured to the glowing symbols, her tone tinged with exasperation. “It’s practically screaming his name. Plus, well the green.”

Rogers just let out a heavy sigh, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Why would he send us bad guys all wrapped up like some demented Christmas present? Does he think we’re- allies now?” His tone was incredulous, as if the idea of Loki’s cooperation was more shocking than the elaborate display before them.

Bruce glanced around nervously as if he half expect Loki to just sudden appear tilted his head looking back at the bodies. “Maybe it’s a trap. They could be booby-trapped with…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely at the bodies of the HYDRA agents, his mind undoubtedly cataloguing every worst-case scenario.

Thor, however, broke into a broad grin as if he’d just discovered something delightful. He stepped forward with his characteristic enthusiasm. “Nay, friends, it is no trap! Loki is merely…” The grin faltered a little as he looked at the concerned looks of his friends but tried to reassure. “Expressing his affection!”

The lobby fell silent. Even Clint, who had been quietly eating a bagel in the corner, paused mid-chew to blink at Thor.

“Affection?” Tony repeated flatly. He stared at Thor as if waiting for the punchline to an elaborate joke. “You’re saying your psycho brother, who once tried to enslave the planet, is affectionately dropping off corpses and terrorists like a murderous Santa Claus?”

Thor nodded enthusiastically, seemingly oblivious to the disbelief in the room. “Indeed! It is the way of our people. He is offering tribute as a sign of respect and camaraderie. Why, on my two-hundredth birthday, Loki orchestrated the assassination of a minor warlord in Alfheim as a gift. It caused quite the interplanar incident, but it was very thoughtful!”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her sharp gaze locking onto Thor. “So… this is normal for him?”

“Aye! Though I… did not realize he extended such courtesies to mortals. This is a great honour!” Thor’s tone was earnest, almost proud.

Tony started rubbing his temple like it would stop the growing headache, letting out a long-suffering sigh. “Okay, let’s backtrack to the part where Prince Diva assassinated a warlord for your birthday. Did… Did anyone explain to him that not all gifts need to involve bloodshed?”

Thor frowned in thought, his expression clouding over as he seemed to piece something together. “We may have tried. Though it occurs to me now that perhaps Odin’s approval of those deeds…” He trailed off, his voice softening as a shadow of realization crossed his face.

Tony’s eyes lit up, his tone shifting to one of mock delight. “Ok, hold up. Are we unpacking trauma? Is this going to be fun?” He turned to Bruce with a grin. “Banner, get your therapy voice ready. Point Breaks about to have a breakthrough.”

Thor waved him off with an annoyed huff. “Loki’s past deeds are of no concern now. What matters is that he seeks your acceptance. These…”-he gestured grandly to the bound and unconscious HYDRA agents-“are his way of saying he wishes to be… friends.”

Clint muttered through a mouthful of bagel, “Yeah, friends who dump bodies at your door.” He took another bite, entirely unimpressed with the explanation. “Which of you idiots asked for a cat for Christmas?”

From the rooftop across the street, cloaked in an invisibility spell, Loki smirked as he watched the Avengers examine his latest offering. Surely, this time, this time they would appreciate his efforts. The Midgardians prided themselves on ridding their realm of filth like HYDRA, and Loki had delivered the scum directly to their door. What more could they want?

“Ungrateful mortals,” he muttered, though his tone was more exasperated than angry. He had spent hours dismantling that cell, carefully orchestrating every detail to ensure maximum impact. From slipping past the hapless guards to embedding subtle chaos spells that left the agents confused and disoriented, every step had been an art form. Even the glowing runes adorning the bindings had been a personal touch-a flourish of his own design.

As the Avengers debated his motives, Loki found himself dwelling on the absurdity of it all. Back on Asgard, such actions would have been heralded as heroic-a declaration of loyalty and cunning prowess. The court would have whispered in awe of the intricate methods and decisive execution. Had Thor truly failed to explain their culture to these mortals, or was he intentionally withholding that knowledge for some unfathomable reason? Was this, perhaps, another one of Thor's oafish oversights?

The idea rankled. Loki’s gaze shifted briefly toward the New York Sky line, his thoughts wandering to the many times he had tried to prove himself. All Loki wanted was acknowledgment. A nod, a smirk, even a begrudging ‘thank you’ from Thor would suffice. But no, they always assumed the worst of him. Always the villain, never the ally. Did they not see that he was trying?

A flicker of irritation danced across his features. Were mortals truly so obtuse, or did they simply enjoy painting him as the antagonist? Surely, Thor could have explained the significance of such gestures. Or had Thor dismissed the act himself, brushing it aside as another of Loki’s ‘antics’? The thought stung more than Loki cared to admit.

He sighed, leaning against the cold stone railing of the rooftop. Below, the city buzzed with life, its mortals scurrying about in their endless routines, oblivious to the grander schemes that played out above them. Perhaps his gestures had been… misunderstood. Maybe these mortals needed something more tailored to their sensibilities-something simpler, less grandiose. A gift of flowers, perhaps? No, that was too banal. A box of chocolates? Loki scoffed at the idea.

Yet, as his thoughts circled back to the Avengers, a different notion took hold. Loki’s lips curled into a mischievous grin. If they wanted less bloodshed, he could oblige. He would find a way to outwit their expectations, to craft a gesture so cunning and sincere that even they could not mistake his intentions. But where was the fun in that? Perhaps he could combine his flair for the dramatic with their mortal simplicity. Yes, that might just suffice.

For now, though, he would watch and wait. The wheels of his mind turned, already formulating his next move. After all, Loki was nothing if not adaptable.

Back at the Tower, Thor finally cornered Loki in one of his dramatic rooftop brooding sessions. Loki had been preparing to slip away after leaving another ‘gift’-a dossier containing the locations of several underground arms dealers, meticulously bound with enchanted ribbon-but his brother’s booming voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Brother,” Thor began, crossing his arms as he approached, “I have come to speak with you about your… gifts.”

Loki turned, his expression an artful mask of indifference. “Gifts? You mean my contributions to your pitiable band of heroes?”

“Aye, those contributions. They do not understand your intent. In truth, they are… concerned.” Thor’s tone was carefully measured, though there was an undertone of exasperation.

Loki’s brows knit together, the faintest hint of a pout forming. “Concerned? I deliver them their enemies, eliminated and gift-wrapped, and they are concerned? Ungrateful wretches.” He sniffed indignantly. “Do they not realize the effort I expend for their benefit?”

Thor clapped a hand on his shoulder, the force of it making Loki’s pristine posture waver slightly. “Brother, Midgardians are… different. They do not view such gestures as we do. Perhaps try a different approach? A… less bloody one.”

“Different,” Loki repeated, his tone dripping with disdain. “Different in that they lack the wit to recognize a masterpiece when it is presented to them?” He paused, crossing his arms in defiance. “And what, pray tell, should I offer? Trinkets? Flowers? Shall I craft them little baubles like some mortal craftsman seeking approval?” His voice was biting, but there was a flicker of vulnerability in his sharp gaze as he flicked his hands about in mocking gesture.

Thor grinned, ever the optimist Loki sarcasm doing nothing to deter is attempt to correct the mistake. “That would be an excellent start. Perhaps something that demonstrates your intellect and skill without… dismemberment.”

Loki’s scoff was immediate, though he didn’t immediately dismiss the suggestion. He paced the rooftop, his coat trailing dramatically behind him as he mulled over Thor’s words. “They are so fragile, these mortals,” he muttered to himself, though loud enough for Thor to hear. “Always repulsed by the sight of blood, offended by the faintest display of power. Fine. If these mortals are so delicate, I shall craft them gifts more befitting their sensibilities.”

Thor’s grin widened, his pride in his brother evident. “Now that is the spirit! Use your brilliance to show them you are more than they believe you to be.”

Loki rolled his eyes but didn’t argue further. “Very well,” he said at last, his tone regal and begrudging. “But if my efforts are once again met with disdain, do not expect me to spare their fragile sensibilities next time. I shall not suffer such indignities endlessly.”

“Agreed,” Thor replied cheerfully, clapping Loki on the back. “I look forward to seeing what you create, Brother.”

As Thor turned to leave, Loki lingered on the rooftop, the wheels of his mind already turning. His expression softened briefly, the faintest trace of uncertainty crossing his features. Could he truly bridge the chasm between himself and these mortals? And if so, would it be worth it? With a deep breath, Loki squared his shoulders, determination hardening his expression. He would try-not for them, but for himself. As he turned to leave, he considered his next move. Perhaps a feast? No… something grander. He had plenty of time to decide. After all, Loki was nothing if not patient.

(And.. I think that might wait till next year... Thank you if you made it to the end of this silly bit of nonsense!)