#i get a bit nervous to sometimes

[theelusivelotus]

we cooking...

[laddertek]

there have been streams where tango and etho have chatted redstone and game development and that's been so so good and so fun to listen to, the way their minds work together and they push and pull with ideas and curiosity.

but then there's the stream today that's like, a first...(other than the little bit of figuring out stat poker and the non-redstone planning of the gaming district in season 7)...where they're completely collaborating on this redstone project together, from scratch. like it's the both of them creating one thing, forming it together as they go, and they just work so well together. aaand have fun!

idk I just love the way they vibe and problem solve together so much. just a great pairing and great equals. it's amazing it's taken till now for a full redstone collaboration like this to properly happen, but I'm so glad it's here now.

[rennyrose]

your liv and raz are my beloveds because (as a system) i've never seen good system representation in media and the love and appreciation you give them is so good. ily

And ily Random Citizen

[a-chaotically-small-lunta]

You know how you look up to someone and how someone looks up to you? Okay, now make it g/t

Lemme explain via example: Imagine a writer who types all their stories on their computer. Maybe they share them online maybe they are way too nervous to do that, and just keep it a secret hobby. Anyway, one day they leave their desk to do something only to come back and notice that their writing document moved to a different page, and their computer didn’t fall asleep like it usually did. This confuses them but they brush it off, telling themselves that maybe they were faster than normal and maybe accidentally moved the page.

However, it keeps happening. Each day they walk away for a moment or even longer, their computer never falls asleep and is on a completely different page. This starts to freak them out. So, they decide to walk away and then sneak back as quietly as possible. When they peek their head inside, they see a tiny little person at their computer, just staring at the screen. The writer watches as the tiny continues to read their story, and that’s when they realize, they’re reading the writer’s story. They walk in, spooking the tiny. The tiny is in shock, they can’t tell if it’s just fear of being seen or getting the chance to actually talk to the writer whose work they adore, perhaps a mix of both. Maybe the tiny gets overwhelmed and before the writer can ask the classic “What are you” question, the tiny burst into a bunch of questions about the story the writer is writing. The writer taken aback by this, just awkwardly answers them and tries to ask them a question only for the tiny to continue asking questions. Eventually the tiny remembers that “Oh right… I’m not supposed to be seen…” and cautiously asks if the writer is upset with them and whether they will hurt them. The wrier assures them that they are mad and won’t hurt them and are honestly glad that their computer wasn’t hacked or there was a ghost or something. Also, how could the writer ever hurt their biggest…well smallest fan?

Maybe they build a friendship where the tiny helps the writer with ideas and getting over those writing hurdles. Hell, maybe the tiny even was inspired by the writer and tried writing their own story and shares it with the writer. Maybe the writer gains the confidence to share their stories online or even publish their work all because one little person loved their work. Perhaps the tiny, with the help of the writer, shares their own stories while hiding their identity as a tiny from everyone. So many possibilities! Just tiny little fans, forgetting they should probably focus on not being seen and not “What is Character’s favorite thing to do when they are bored?” Like sweetheart probably not the best time, but go for it.

[henswilsons]

think about all the places we could go

buck/eddie | 2k+ | ao3

“I,” Athena says, slowly, “have a lot of questions.”

“That’s understandable,” Eddie says. “Take your time.”

Athena takes two long, deep breaths. The other officer next to her doesn’t seem to know where to look; Buck sees him desperately pretend to be interested in the one solitary picture Eddie has hanging on his wall, like their family trip to the zoo is pertinent to the matter at hand. “I don’t suppose anyone knows about this,” Athena says.

It’s not a question, but Buck is also currently wang-out in front of his boss’s wife, so he has enough self-preservation not to get caught on semantics, now. “Uh, no ma’am.”

“Don’t you ma’am me,” says Athena.

“Sorry.”

The other officer is now almost nose-to-nose to the picture with the force of his feigned ignorance. Athena just looks grieved. “Why, then,” she says, “did you get military-grade handcuffs? Were the pink fuzzy ones not macho enough for you?”

Her tone drips with derision. She’s absolutely going home to tell Bobby all about this. “We kept, uh, breaking the pink fuzzy ones,” Eddie admits, and then, “Buck, don’t preen.”

“I’m not preening,” Buck says, probably definitely preening, but like it’s his fault, okay? It’s good to know the bicep curls are working. “Look, we’re two big firefighters. Those flimsy sex store handcuffs weren’t gonna hold us.”

read on ao3!

[soullessjack]

ive been thinking a lot about how adrien was supposed to be disabled during his concept development and how much of a missed opportunity the whole thing was, like. on one hand I honestly respect the writers for backing out of a topic they thought they wouldn’t be able to handle well; not to say the representation in miraculous is anything great but it shows they do care about it at the very least, which is more than most media can say. I also know this was a decision that came way before the show even started, but I feel like Tomoe Tsurugi is proof that they can write disabled characters and do it in a way that’s fairly decent, so i feel like they could still incorporate it in now since their prior concern is pretty much ruled out (they’re never gonna do this).

and narrative wise I think it would add very much to the entire Agreste family arc, like idk. you could have his disability be a result of the peacock’s damage, or damage to his Amok. have it be part of the reason why Gabriel is so controlling and isolating (ie; viewing his son as frail and made of glass now) and distant/abusive (viewing his son as now “less than perfect,” at least in terms of what he’d envisioned for a perfect child, and blaming Emilie’s sickness/death on it). Adrien’s modeling career is entirely just inspiration-sensationalism with a “hopeful ray of sunshine” public persona. it can even be important to cat noir, too! it’s still an escape from his home life and career, but it’s also a chance for adrien to show that he’s not as fragile as gabriel thinks. It’s his own way of having independence and autonomy and for once being someone that isn’t constantly pitied or made to pretend he’s a docile ray of sunshine constantly.

I’m also deeply autistic enough to say it could match with him being the holder of destruction; half of his life is centered around preserving him and, again, treating him like he’s made of glass. so why not give him the power to literally crack and shatter that glass? poetic cinema and all that. additionally it adds to both why he’s so unserious with his role as a superhero and why he values his partnership with ladybug so highly—he’s indulging in this new freedom while also recognizing that the partnership it comes with is about the only one where he’s genuinely treated as an equal and trusted to take his own part in something. that’s not to say I think all of his friends would instantly change personalities and baby him (especially not Nino) but let me tell you, even as someone who’s not physically disabled, the distinct feeling of being othered or unequal is there no matter how much support you have.

everybody knows this already but there’s just so much potential in everything that the writers don’t do reagghhhhhghhhh

[quackity1999]

[ OOC: okay askbox is Certified Empty. cmere!!!!!! shaking quackity like a box of treats ]

[burinazar]

The Ganja-tai discord server is now two years old! To celebrate here’s everyone doing Belaf’s ridiculous little double peace sign pose from the s2e12 end card art. Thank you to everyone who’s been around at some point over the life of the server and helped to make it such a cozy lil place to talk about the gang!

If any further people are interested in a place for discussion, fan content, memes, shipping and more with a primary focus on, well, these guys, you can find us here. Please note, the server has some simple rules you must read and agree to upon joining, and is for fans who are 18 or older only!

[icewindandboringhorror]

"We can get through this by working together, reach out to your friends, community is all we have, a social network will be your security in the world, now is the time to lean on others!"

I do agree, and it's scientifically sound (pretty sure there is data about how people with better social networks live longer and etc) but also....augh..... what about the severe social issues, difficulty to leave the house, physical issues which lead to like zero socialization energy a majority of the time, etc. etc. Social support can be a replacement for structural support, but.. I guess I just wish it didn't have to be. Community is extremely difficult to build, even moreso if you're someone who has issues with social cues or group conversations or even just being around others in the first place. And blah, nuance, of course I'm just complaining or maybe being too negative or maybe misunderstanding, but, I hardly have the energy to brush my hair once every 2 months.. how am I supposed to maintain a wide social network and be active in a Community and Join Groups lol... sometimes it kind of feels like "er.. well if thats my only option then...... ruh roh". It's overwhelming

[tittyinfinity]

contemplating deleting my blog soon I might make a new blog but idk

[cheyezstuffz]

trying to get used to flash/computer drawing in general and i whipped this up within a few minutes,, this is how they first meet!! (if maybe you're wondering, no i didn't use a mouse, just a finger on the mouse pad thing)

[oidheadh-con-culainn]

the fact that i'm like this about performances / playing in public (i.e. utterly shameless) is partly why i get sooo annoyed when people treat "anxiety" as though it's always social anxiety. no i will sing a solo in a pub full of strangers and/or colleagues absolutely no problem, i'll just also have 2am panic attacks about the inevitable mortality of everyone i love until i set off my acid reflux so much i convince myself i'm having a heart attack. i have anxiety! but also put me on stage, who gives a fuck, not me

[sluckythewizard]

BUT IM NOT A WRITER. something strange possessed me to write my first proper fanfic in maybe a decade. be niceys to me but also grill me so i can get stronger. this one is a stupidly self indulgent bit between Soda and Emizel, a day or so after emizel was sired. CW for gore descriptions, but thats about it i think. image below is a snippet of the start. the rest of the whole dang thing will be under the cut. ive never posted fanfic ever in my life. read my tags for secret behind da scenes commentary

"Oh shit… I think hes dead…" It was another night, another patrol, another fight, and another win, for Emizel and Soda.

Under moonlight, under street light, under interwoven wires above, the two stood here in a quiet and damp alleyway. The air was drenched with the smell of a previous rain, and the puddles of said storm remain huddled in corners and pot holes.

One splashed as soda found himself stepping forwards into one. The residual adrenaline of the fight had left his body shaking, his heart still pounding, his wounds still throbbing. They had still won; or more-so, Emizel had won. A particularly nasty blow to the side had Soda reduced to the side lines for most of the fight, left to watch as his newly vampiric comrade had absolutely eviscerated the competition.

Emizel had only been turned a day ago, but it was impossible not to notice how it had changed him. He already acted so goddamn confident, so on top of the world, and this newfound power, newfound speed and strength, only built upon his insane ego.

The Fangs that they encountered here on this night stood no fucking chance. Emizel was too quick, too strong, and he easily chased off the rivals. It was only now, as the final unfortunate opponent had turned to flee, a clean clock in the jaw sent the human tumbling to the ground with a dull thump, and it did not move afterward.

Soda shifts his shoe out of the puddle, the cold seeping into his sock being one of the few things keeping his mind in his body in the moment. Is the guy breathing?

A low laugh bleeds from Emizel as he stretches his arms, licking his sharpened teeth as he stares off in the direction the remaining Fangs went. Soda knew that look on his face, the look of a tiger pondering on its next kill, he knew well that Emizel wanted to chase them.

But the guy on the ground.. It was one punch to the face, and the wicked crack sound that came from it had planted a seeding dread within Sodas chest.

As he steps forward, around the puddle, the resulting sound made Emizels attention click back over to Soda, the snap of his gaze making Soda flinch.

The two lock eyes, and Soda weakly gestures to the limp body on the floor. "The uh.. I think.. Is that guy dead?" He finally asks, having a hard time keeping contact with Emizels intensely red eyes.

Emizel turns his attention to said body, tilting his head as he goes to kick at the thing, turning it over. "Man no way hes dead, I punched him once." He mutters.

"Well, yeah, but his head almost twisted all the way around when you did.." Soda steps up to stand beside Emizel, the two boys standing with their hands in their pockets, down at this unfortunate, limp body.

"Should we hide it?" Soda asks, glancing back over at Emizel, who had.. An odd look on his face. He was clearly pondering something, but Soda could only guess whatever was going on in that brilliant head of his. He knew and trusted that Emizel was smart. If anyone could figure out what to do about this, it would be him.

But the lack of an answer had anxiety chewing at the back of Sodas rib cage, and after a second, he speaks up again, compelled to fill what he perceived as a tense silence. "Like.. I dunno, I've never uh... killed a guy..." He shrugs, prompting Emizel to let out a big sigh.

"He's not dead man, just out fuckin cold." Emizel kneels down next to the body, putting an ear up to its chest, and pondering on that for a moment. An uncertainty twists his expression, as he decides to instead place a hand on the victims throat, checking for a pulse. A moment passes, and seemingly finding nothing, he pulls back.

"Uh... Okay, so he might be dead."

Something about the confirmation from Emizel made a shiver run up Sodas spine. That, or maybe it was just the breeze agitating the cold water in his shoe.

"Huh… Damn.." Was all that Soda could really get to leave his mouth. Which was hardly a splash compared to the torrent that was slowly churning in his head. They just killed a guy. Or, Emizel just killed a guy. And it was so easy. They had to hide the body now, right? That was the usual progression here? Getting caught for murder was way more extreme than getting caught for breaking mailboxes with soda cans. It was so, so disturbingly easy. It really was just one punch. It's not like the Fangs are weak by any means, so just one punch? And this guy is dead? Forever?

Or, perhaps by human means, their rivals were fairly tough. But Emizel was on a whole other level. No mortal could stand up to him now...

"Hey, are you okay?"

The question had pulled Soda back from his head, his gaze flicking back over to Emizel, who was looking up at him with those eerie, piercing red eyes. Soda felt another shiver.

"Uh, ieah man, I'm all good." Soda nods, swallowing down whatever anxiety was bubbling up in his throat.

But Emizel didn't seem satisfied by his answer, standing back up and staring down his human comrade. Soda couldn't meet his eyes, his gaze instead traveling downward, and pausing on Emizels red, cut-up shirt. There was something off about the color, the way it seemed darker in some spots, brighter in others.. Wait, wasn't Emizel wearing a white shirt before all this?

The vampire boy seems to pick up on Sodas expression, following his eyes down to his shirt. "Oh, yeah! While you were on the floor, the knife guy got me a little" He says, a stupidly simple smile on his face. Soda was about to let out a laugh at how unbothered his friend seemed by it, but it gets caught in his throat when Emizel goes to pull his shirt up.

The sound of the bloodied fabric peeling away from skin made Sodas own skin crawl, but that wasn't nearly as bad as the sight of the intense gash running from his collar bone, down to his stomach.

"Oh, fuck dude!" Soda gasps, but Emizel laughs it off. Even despite knowing Emizel well, Soda was still surprised by just how much Emizel could shrug off. "Shit, doesn't that hurt, dude?"

"Oh yeah this fucking hurts!" he says with a laugh, his smile big and toothy and proud as he presents this egregious wound. Swollen and angry, pulsing with a slow heartbeat, and still oozing with thick, dark blood.

The sight of the split flesh, and the glints of bone beneath the dark, dark red all tugged at Sodas gag reflex, and yet he couldn't pull his eyes away. So Emizel's just been walking and talking so normally this whole time with his chest just cleaved wide open? Soda felt just as impressed as he felt horrified.

It wasn't until Emizel reaches down to poke at the abhorrent wound that Soda snaps out of it. Watching his friend press his fingers into the bloodied flesh, and slowly pulling it apart, allowing more ichor to seep from the gash, it was too much to watch at this point.

Soda reaches up to put a hand on Emizels wrist, the vampire boy stopping, and looking up at his friend.

Soda found himself freezing again when he locks eyes with Emizel. He was going to say something now, right? "U-uhm.." Is all he really chokes out, giving Emizels wrist a gentle tug. "D-do you. Uh. I suppose a hospital Isn't a place you can go anymore..?"

Emizel just smirks at that, letting Soda pull his hand away from the wound. "Oh, yeah no, but it's fine. I mean, I don't think it's gonna kill me" He shrugs. It was so, so impressive just how unphased Emizel was by all this. Fuck he's actually so cool.

"Well yeah man but it's like, still a bleeding hole. Like you're soaked in blood dude, I'm pretty sure that even a vampire needs that stuff on like, the inside." Soda rubs the back of his head, still unnerved by the sight of it all. "Vampires have like, super healing, don't they?"

"Oh yeah like, regeneration powers. I know I heal faster sometimes but I dunno how to just, activate it on command.." Emizel hums, his eyes narrowing down at his own injury, as if trying to will it into mending. Soda looks away, unable to watch that vile gash ooze any longer.

"I dunno man, how do they do it in like, video games?" Soda tosses the question out, trying to click together some sort of solution in his own head.

"Uhhh.. Huh, video games.." Emizel repeats to himself, chewing on the thought while idly poking at the laceration; until an idea audibly flickers to life in his head. "Oh, I just gotta refill my blood meter. Or whatever."

"Oooh yeah, blood meter!" Soda perks up, "Of course, see this is why you're the brains, man" Soda smiles, glancing back over to his cool friend, but immediately needing to look away again when the sight of that egregious gash tugs bile back into his throat.

While Soda averts his eyes, Emizels eyes wander back over to the body, and that classic 'Emizel has a bad idea' smile creeps across his face.

"Well, if this guys dead, I'm sure he's not gonna need all that blood.." He grins, kneeling down next to the body again.

The word 'wait' had hardly gotten the chance to crawl from Sodas mouth, before Emizel lifts up the arm of the unfortunate body, pulling the sleeve back, and immediately sinking his teeth into the exposed wrist.

The sound and the sight of blood gushing around Emizels teeth made Soda cringe, his hand impulsively coming up to aide his own wrist. An empathetic phantom pain made his wrist ache, his imagination simulating the feeling of shark teeth cutting into skin, sinking deep into the flesh, and clacking against bone. That was a lot of blood, that was streaming down the arm of this fodder.

A low growl bleeds from Emizel as he adjusts his teeth, cutting into more flesh, opening the wound further, and allowing a pulsing torrent of red to stream down his chin, onto his coat. It was an annoying thing, to clean blood out of clothing. Most of the Demons deemed it easier to just let the stains remain. But the night that Emizels throat was torn open, and liters upon liters were granted freedom from his human form, the unbelievable mess had practically changed half the color of Emizels iconic coat.

That was the first time Soda had ever seen that much blood from one person. And well. This would probably be the second.

The sight was unnerving, but it was impossible to look away. The alley was quiet, save for the distant bustle of a distant city, which made the noisy squish and squelch of teeth gnawing on flesh all the more apparent and nauseating.

Emizel had become a monster for sure, and watching it feed on something was… thrilling, in a way. It reminded Soda of feeding a pet spider, or lizard. A mouse for a snake.

It's a heavy thing to witness, the end of a human life. The fear of death is a primal thing, and Soda was no different from any other living thing. He figured everyone else feared death just as much as he does. Well, maybe except for Emizel, of course.

It made sense. Emizel was such a cocky and noisy kind of guy, but hes always had the power to back it up. Even when he lost, or seemed at his lowest, Soda still saw this sort of fire in him, one that Soda admired.

Of course Emizel would be the one to become something like a vampire. Something that Soda had always figured was just a fantasy creature thing. He wondered; if vampires were real, what else was real? Werewolves? Zombies? Unicorns? Are there real demons? Like from hell? Is hell real? Is he going to hell?

The sudden ttteeeeaaaaarrrr of flesh rips soda from his wandering thoughts. Emizel was tugging his head away from the arm of his kill, his teeth clamped down into the chewed meat, and pulling it apart. Soda had seldom seen so much of the inside of a human arm, and the sight of spilling threads and squirming veins was hardly something he ever wanted to stomach again.

"Oh fuck, dude, hey-" Soda steps forward, raising a hand, but the way Emizel snaps his head back over to him, twisting to an unnatural degree, Soda cant help jolting back.

Reddened teeth glint menacingly in the low light, a threatening growl thundering from its clenched, dripping jaws. Emizels eyes were focused, yet wild, glowing with whatever light they could reflect.

Sodas eyes were wide, and his body was frozen in the thick, electric tension within the air. It was like staring down an angry dog.. Suddenly a light bulb in his head flickers to life. It was kind of like an angry dog, right? One hunched over a meal it didn't want to give up. Memories of old encounters and unfortunate dog bites resurface in Sodas head, and with that experience, and with those lessons learned, he gathers the courage to react.

He shuts his eyes, keeping them closed for a few seconds, as he slowly pulls back his arm, and slowly steps back. It was an eye contact thing, wasn't it? Eye contact makes dogs angry, right? That was how you dealt with an angry dog? As he pulls back, and takes in a breath for composure, he finally dares to peek at the angry vampire before him again.

Its snarling had died down, but its eyes were still trained intently on Soda. After a tense, and agonizingly, slow pause... It blinks back, lowering its head back down to its meal, but keeping its anxious stare on this potential threat.

A relieved sigh falls from soda as the tension finally melts. He didnt realize he was holding in so much of his breath. "O-okay, man.. It's yours, you uh.. Earned it.." Soda mutters, stepping back further, until he was standing in a sufficiently dry enough space to sit down in. Now that he wasn't standing, he was finally taking into mind just how much his hands were shaking.

It's odd. Soda couldn't really describe this feeling thrumming in his chest as something like fear.. Nausea? For sure. Disturbed and rattled? Oh absolutely. This was certainly a sight he would have a hard time scrubbing from his eyelids when he sleeps tonight. But he wasn't scared. The memory of the night that Emizel was sired still coated the inside of his mind like an unwashable film. Even in that moment, when the unnatural teeth from the unnatural maw of an unnatural thing hovered over his throat, he couldn't say with confidence that he was scared.

Emizel really is his best friend in the world. And he knows with his whole heart that Emizel feels the same. He knew and trusted that his best friend would never hurt him. Not too badly at least. He loves Emizel, and would give anything to support him.

Like a mouse to a snake.

This really is an incredible power that his comrade had come across, and Soda especially felt a sort of pride in his friend. He felt it was worth it to help him feed it.

The bile in his throat had made its point, and Soda agreed, that watching someone die, and get torn apart and drained might be too much for him. Despite how much he hated the Fangs, the end of any human life seemed like such a jarring thing. To have such an intense fear finally get confronted. Would he go to hell?

Maybe he couldn't just feed people to his friend. So an alternative could be donated blood, right? Soda wouldn't mind giving up something like blood. His body makes it for free, after all. Maybe some other Demons would agree to give up some blood too. But they shouldn't have to take on such a burden. Soda wouldn't mind being the only one. The only one. The only one.

His hand comes up to rub at his neck, as his imagination conjures up what it might feel like to have teeth sink into his flesh. He's been stabbed before, is that sort of what it would feel like? Would he have to get stitches? He didn't really want to get stitches, so maybe there could be a more effective way to get the blood out of him. And there was so much vital stuff in his neck too. There's' a vein that's safe to cut into somewhere, right? He would have to look that up later.

A STARTLING RINGING;

Splits the moment,

Prompting both Soda and Emizel to jolt in shock,

As the phone in Emizels pocket rings away.

Acting as if nothing abnormal had taken place, Emizel pulls out his phone, and answers it.

"Heyy, Johnny! Yeah we chased em off, I don't think those bastards will be infesting this street again anytime soon. Yeah, ieah we'll be heading back soon. Oh fuck yeah dude, save us some!"

Emizel covers the speaker of his Nokia, turning back to Soda with a big smile on his violently bloodied face. "They got some pizza waiting for us back home, dude!" he whispers out to him.

Soda does his best to crack a smile, and to suppress the look of unease that probably stained his face, as he stares at the literal murder scene that's been splattered about in front of him.

"Oh, yeah, hell yeah man.." He swallows down the bile again. "What kind of uh.. Soda did they get?"

Emizel ponders that, before turning back to the phone to ask Sodas question.

"Sprite and a big pack of that one strawberry mountain dew" Emizel tosses the answer back over to Soda, who gives a nod, and thumbs up.

Mountain dew is so neat, Soda really liked all the wacky flavors those guys come up with. The thought of going home and opening a can of soda was certainly a comfort. After witnessing all this blood and gore and viscera, Soda absolutely needed to get back home and get a nice cold glass of something bright red .

As Sodas mind wanders off to soda, Emizel wraps up the conversation on the phone, before hanging up, and standing up.

The movement had pulled Sodas mind back into the moment, enough for him to timidly voice a concern he's had since the start of this debacle.

"Uh, hey, so.. The body, should we… Uh.." He gestures vaguely to it, and Emizel grants it a nonchalant glance.

"Eh, I can toss it into a dumpster or something, I dunno. I'm sure its fine. I'll handle it."

The vampire boy goes to pick up the corpse, the wound in its mangled arm no longer even dripping with blood, the flesh pale from the absolute absence of red in its veins.

"Go ahead and meet me by that one mailbox, the one with the bullet hole in it." Emizel casually instructs, tossing the drained body over his shoulder. "I'll catch up."

"Uh, yeah, okay.." Soda musters up a nod, and the strength to rise back up to his feet, wincing as that bruise on his side makes itself loudly known again. He still felt anxious, but even despite it all, he knew he could trust Emizel to take care of things. He always does. "Just stay safe man, I'll see you there." Soda assures with a smile, and Emizel matches it, tossing him a wink. And then suddenly- -He's gone! If Soda had blinked he would've missed it, but he was fortunate enough to just barely catch the glimpse of Emizel darting off at an inhuman speed, probably looking for a place to dump the body. Right, he would take care of it. Emizel always makes sure his crew is taken care of. Well... Guess all that's left for Soda is for him to walk back to that meeting spot. He looks around the alley for a moment, taking in the sight of that enormous pool of blood in the middle of the concrete. Or whatever the floor of this alley is made from. He ponders on the present moment a little longer than he meant to, the shock of it all leaving him aimless for just a few, soothing moments of just, decompression. The night is quiet, vast, and cold, but the stresses of just the past 5 hours had left his body radiating with fiery aches and pains, so the chill of the occasional clawing breeze was welcomed. Except for when said breeze agitated the cold water still soaked into his sock. He should step in another puddle on his way back to even it out. The smell of rain still rested heavy in the air, heralding another storm on the horizon. There was that, and then, well, there was also the blood. The stench of it felt far too intense to just ignore it, the metallic miasma making itself maliciously unmistakable. Maybe the impending storm will wash this mess away... He looked forward to putting this unfortunate night behind him. With one last rattled, but deep breath, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, and turns away, strolling back over to the mailbox that Emizel had described.

He couldn't wait to get home and drink some soda with his friends.

[radio-and-the-dirt]

dude i don't really care if people ship aroace characters just please acknowledge that they're aro and/or ace. like,, aro and ace people still can and do enter into relationships of various types at times and not every aro or ace person completely lacks attraction anyway and some date even if they do, so like, ship them if thats what you want but please just be respectful.

just acknowledge that the character is aro and/or ace. do some research about what that might mean for them if you need to. treat those characters in a way that respects their identities and doesn't completely brush them aside.

im just tired. we can be in relationships. we can not be in relationships. we are still aros and aces. dont try and erase what little representation we get.

i would like to note that i see things in this way because i have never seen a 'professional' writer (like non-fanfic or not a small online creator) specify where an aro/ace character sits on those spectrums or how they actually view relationships of any type. i've also never seen any 'professional' writer's characters get to explore or express that part of themselves enough in their stories to give much better an understanding than just "not really interested in sex or romance".

if a more specific understanding of a character was provided and it meant that that character wouldn't be involved in romantic and/or sexual relationships or was repulsed by them than yeah, I wouldn't want people shipping them at all but i dont think i've ever seen that so thats not what this is about.

[good-beanswrites]

Hello! So like I've been having that Lights, Camera, Sing Your Sins AU rent free in my head for a while, and thought this up.

Since the prisoners weren't allowed to meet at first, they could hear the others practicing their singing nearby/next door. Some are awed by how passionate they put into their songs (eg: Haruka & Shidou), how into it (eg: Fuuta & Kotoko), how emotional (eg: Kazui), etc. This allowed the prisoners to imagine what the others are like.

...Then there's Mikoto with Red going all out with their MeMe song and it stunned everyone into silent fear until the prisoners meet him and go "YOU SANG THAT!?!"

I've been going so so crazy over this omg!!

No matter how big the facilities are, I'd imagine it would be difficult to keep ten people undergoing a full filming process completely separate from each other. Though they don't actually see each other, they overhear recording booth sessions while while walking down the hall. They spot unique outfits and props in the costume closet. They hear crew members giving Jackalope weird updates ("sir, where do you want the massive tarot cards when they're finished?" "the order of thousands of fake flowers has arrived" "we ran out of medieval outfits" etc.) They see teams lugging around massive set pieces from one stage to another. They hear a few hushed rehearsals from behind dressing room doors.

Mahiru totally tears up listening to Kazui. Meanwhile Kazui is blown away by Mahiru's enthusiasm and speed. Yuno thinks After Pain sounds really fun. Amane is awed at the other songs, (she's never even heard rock music before). Kotoko finds herself singing bits of Weakness. Muu is moved by Shidou. Fuuta is torn between being jealous of Mikoto's song and excited there's someone else with some yelling.

And so of course, the prisoners go crazy trying to piece together predictions about their upcoming cellmates. One the experiment begins, they subconsciously start matching up the voices they remembered hearing with their expectations. I think Shidou, Amane, and Kotoko would surprise people the most -- it seems hard hard to get a day-to-day read on them from their songs alone. Fuuta is simultaneously exactly what people were expecting and nothing like what they thought. Everyone's ideas of Mahiru were spot on. Haruka sang so confidently that the group is surprised to hear him stutter so often. Anyone who heard a bit of Meme is shocked when they meet Mikoto and make the connection. When asked about it, he just shrugs and laughs innocently, which only makes it harder to believe. Fuuta, excited to find someone else who did a rock song, is sorely disappointed at first.

[bunnymedley]

pls interact with this post if you'd let me obsess over your cock n be embarrassingly eager to play with it.....