#i hope these are at least partially enjoyable

[pickleskisser]

hii!! I really liked your pickles headcanons and the part about meeting his family was my favorite! if you have the time could I request hcs for meeting the family for the rest of the boys? if not the rest of them then just skwisgaar would be fine!

remember to drink water, eat a snack, and take plenty of breaks!

(ps can i be spade anon?)

HIIII !! Omg thank you sm I had a lot of fun with it lolz. And yeah I can so do that for you :p fair warning it's very improvised since info on these dude's parents are scarce but I hope it's enjoyable anyways ☆

Meeting the Parents HCs

Nathan Explosion

The one you have to worry least about, his parents are sweethearts.

Though his mom will have an eye on you both the whole time.

I feel like Nathan has a record of getting entangled with people who were not so good for him, so it isn't personal or anything she's just on the fence at first.

Once she realizes you're not like that, though, and genuinely love Nathan and, in turn, treat him how he deserves, she's alllllllll over you.

She's going to want your number, your Skype, your Facebook, everything.

She'll pull out the baby pictures too. It greatly embarrasses your brutal boyfriend.

His dad would be the same, on the fence a little, but he overall trusts Nathan a little more.

He might try to plan a fishing trip, though, and Nathan is going to be all over that, so good luck getting out of that if you viscerally dislike fishing.

Overall, don't sweat it! As long as you treat their boy right, they love you, and you might as well be family now.

Toki Wartooth

Oh boy. So I'm not sure you could ever really meet his parents?

He doesn't like talking about them. You probably didn't even learn anything about them until late in your relationship.

If you were to hypothetically meet them, well, you're only meeting his mom.

Aslaug would be dead at this point so there wouldn't be much of an option.

Anja is a cold woman with high unachievable standards. So don't take the fact she won't even speak to you too personally.

If you're religious in the Christian sense, you might have a small chance of approval… but then again, you're dating Toki Wartooth of Dethklok, and you had to learn about him somewhere. Goddamn devil music.

Don't even waste your breath. All that matters is how much you and Toki love each other.

William Murderface

It's not willing on his part at all.

Stella is showing up unannounced, ranting and raving about not telling her he finally got hitched, and he must just want her to die or something.

He's snippy and miserable the whole time. Not miserable in the same sense Pickles was, he's more annoyed than anything.

Stella isn't the most gentle woman. She's abrasive and loud and can be partial to physical violence, but she does care a little bit about her grandson.

She really sucks at showing it, and definitely fucked him up with her parenting style (if his emotional constipation and short fuse didn't make that clear) but she did step up when his parents died instead of letting him go through the system, so.

All this to say, she's giving you a shotgun talk.

William will pry it out of her hands, of course, and curse her out for it, but it's happening !!

After that, though, don't worry, you're family now. Actually, maybe you should worry.

This means that whatever small politeness she whipped up before is long gone, you're a Murderface now, you are going to get treated like one.

Although William couldn't care less about his grandmother's opinion, he cares about yours. So, to see you embracing his family in full stride without getting scared off is more than heartwarming to him.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

Again, it's fully unwilling on his end. It would honestly have to be something you want.

I think it's needless to say his relationship with his mom is weird. He truthfully wouldn't mind never seeing her again, especially after the events of fatherklok.

But again, if you really, really, want it then, yeah, he'll take you down to Sweden.

Surfetta doesn't have much of an opinion on you. What you are to her son is no concern to her.

She's most likely tipsy the whole time and disappearing for periods at a time.

The whole thing will feel like a waste of time, and Skwisgaar is stressed.

Don't worry he just needs to play his Thunderhorse for a few hours, and maybe a little bit of laying on top of you with his head on your chest listening to the sound of your heartbeat… just a little.

[monsterfactoryfanfic]

30 Sickos, 3.5 Stars, and Pervert Writers

As I gear up to publish Detente for the Ravenous, I've been thinking a lot about these tweets. I know that my writing is solid, but it's not groundbreaking. My designs are fun, but they're not revolutionary. My prose is simple, my plots well-trodden. The fights and monsters kick ass, but god help me my romance is milquetoast at best. It's not what I'm interested in. I'm interested in the 30 years war and Catholic kaiju.

We like to quantify things, online. When I'm shopping for games, I sort by "most popular" and "highest rated." I don't want my time to be wasted, I don't want to spend my money sub-optimally. It's easier to connect to folks over a movie that 3 million people watched as opposed to a podcast listened to by a few hundred. I am not criticizing the impulse. Life is too short, and none of us have enough money.

But as a creator, whatever that means, I think I have to get comfortable with my shortcomings, and be honest about what I actually care about. I am not interested in writing a novel that appeals to all people. I am interested in writing a novel where they assassinate Pope Kissinger. That doesn't mean I won't ever try to improve my romance, or make my character arcs less predictable. But if I am gonna write another book, I have to write it for me, not for my imagined literary agent or Big 5 editor.

There's this great manifesto on itchio by “Average Urotsukidōji Enjoyer," called "Good Writers are Perverts." It touches on this sentiment that I've been stewing on, and I think this passage crystalizes what I'm trying to do with my own work.

I know my best work is the work of the pervert, the ex catholic who grew up on Naruto, the military history dork who trained for years to save lives instead of taking them. That is the stuff that makes me want to create, the hope that I can take all my stupid interests and life experiences and twist them into something at least partially interesting, to hit that 3.5 star rating that isn't all things to all people, but is at least one really good thing to a few people. If a handful of young folks get ahold of my work and it changes their lives in a small way forever, then I'll be happy.

I hope that as art becomes less profitable, as financial incentives only encourage the bland and inoffensive, the tried and true instead of niche and experimental, more artists double down, go deep instead of wide. I'm not afraid to fail, I'm afraid of trying so hard to be loved that I stop giving a shit about the craft

[salmonrowe]

This is a 150 page, partially incomplete graphic novel. I worked on it October 2022 to April 2024, though the story originates from 2018. That year I was 21, and I was living alone, working as a housekeeper while the rest of my family took care of my dying alcoholic father. Life in general was bad but I hated that job in particular so fucking much; I had gotten the job when I realized I couldn’t afford art school. I often drew gory scenes and characters on hotel stationary for comfort (catharsis?), and at some point began telling myself a story: A sad girl is decapitated and becomes two distinct identities. The body runs away while the head attempts to follow. What happens in between was never quite set in stone but involved lots of blood and guts. I called it AmenAmy (from a song) as a placeholder(I could never think of anything better). I then thumb nailed the original draft in a frenzy and was completely consumed by it since. From the beginning there was a focus on stylization and composition, which would end up a defining trait along with an intense dissatisfaction for my work. I would continuously scrap progress to begin again, over and over and over. The story has literally countless drafts between then and now, each varying in style and theme, yet through them all I worked out my obsessions and anxieties. Death and the transformation of the body (stemming from my dads long illness and slow death), loneliness and depersonalization (stemming from my sheltered and isolated life) with underlying themes of repression and sexual frustration (don’t worry about it). For six tumultuous years AmenAmy was an outlet through which I processed my art as well as my life. I could just never fucking finish it. This is the closest I got, and perhaps the closest I’ll ever get to something intentional. I don’t know if it’s a good comic, but at the very least it’s interesting. I hope people get some enjoyment out of it, because I did love drawing it. After this maybe I’ll move on, or I might keep making the same thing over and over. Let’s see.

https://salmonrowe.itch.io/amenamy

[givemea-dam-break]

May I request a fem reader x Anthony lockwood where reader is a super talented fittes agent who constantly trades barbs with lockwood but he soon realises that she fancies him so he ends up teasing her during missions by doing small stuff like pulling her close and calling here babe when no-one is around

a/n: ahhhhhh this is such a cute idea, yes of course!!! i hope you like it <3 buckle in because this is a long one - which could constitute for a part 2 if anyone wants one lol

warnings: language fem reader (few pronouns used)

part 2

"Don't you get tired of me saving your ass? This is the third time I've done it this week alone."

Anthony Lockwood leans against the partially splintered doorframe of the house he and his team were working on a case in, arms crossed over his chest and smiling proudly as if he wasn't on his back in ghost-lock mere minutes ago. His hair is slightly ruffled, cheeks flushed, but that cocky grin is there despite it all.

"Sometimes I just need reminding that there are scarier things than ghosts," he says.

Bristling a little, you raise an eyebrow at him. "Is that why I see you looking in mirrors so often? I'd chalked it up to narcissism, but, hey, if it's for a reality check instead, who am I to judge?"

His eyes roll, and he makes a sound that's half-scoff and half-laugh. "We would've been fine without your help, just so you know."

"Mm-hmm." You look around the salt-covered kitchen and the tiles that were pried off the wall - by you - that uncovered a hole in the wall containing the source. "So George was looking for the source in the bathroom just because? And Lucy was fighting the second ghost that she herself told me you guys didn't know about? Not to mention you being ghost-locked. To each their own, I suppose."

"At least I looked good doing it. Your uniform is the most boring thing I've ever seen."

"Oh, so you're a fashion expert now?" you ask, placing a hand on your hip. "No offence, Lockwood, but I'd stick to ghost-hunting. You're at least half-decent at that."

Kipps appears down the hallway, pointing to the front door before disappearing, followed by the rest of your team. He's slowly slid out of the role of being the one to provoke Anthony Lockwood, leaving the pleasure solely to you. Not that you're complaining. There's something so enjoyable about riling him up.

Plastering on a too-sweet smile, you say, "It was great seeing you, Lockwood. I'll have fun saving your life again soon."

You push past him through the doorway, stopping just past.

"And, before you comment on my 'boring' uniform, at least try to get your socks and tie to match. Those are two wildly different shades of blue."

--

You glare at the house towering before you, pissed that you've been sent off on messenger duty not by Fittes, but by DEPRAC. They've got vans and cars and dozens of employees to do their bidding, but old Inspector Barnes has sent you off instead. Maybe as some kind of torture.

Annoyed, you ring the doorbell and wait.

When the door swings open, you're at least grateful that it's Lucy Carlyle that opens it. While she can be quick to anger and is prone to making snide remarks - although you're no better - she's the preferable option. George has a hatred for all Fittes employees and Lockwood... You scowl at the thought of him.

"Oh, (name)," she says, frowning in confusion. "Why are you here?"

You hold the papers out. "DEPRAC lapdog, apparently. I've been sent to give all three of you these NDA letters. They need signing and sent back to DEPRAC."

Lucy takes them gingerly, eyes skirting over the writing. "This is about that case the three of us did in Greenwich?"

"The owner of the National Maritime Museum doesn't want potential customers finding out there were ghosts there, or something," you explain. "I don't know. Barnes caught me on a run earlier and asked me to deliver these."

"Deliver what?"

Scowling, you look over Lucy's shoulder where Lockwood's face has just appeared. Lucy shows him the papers, passing them over and crossing her arms as she explains what you've just said.

Lockwood frowns, looking at you as if it's your fault.

"Barnes has got you on a lead, huh?"

"You calling me a dog, Lockwood? I don't think you want to see how you'll end up after that."

He raises his hands in mock surrender. "I would never do that. You know me. Besides, you're not wearing your signature grey today, so you don't even look like a staffy."

It's at that moment that Lucy slips away, taking the papers with her.

"I'm in no mood for you today," you say. "I've not even been back to my place, so I'm all sweaty from my run and in need of a shower. Barnes has sent me here because he and his lackeys can't get off their arses. And, to top it off, my favourite café ran out of the coffee I like. So, I advise you to pack it in, or I'll be arrested for trespassing and assault."

"There will be no need for that," he promises. "Do you want to come in for that coffee you so desperately want? George is quite adept at making good coffee."

"Even if I wanted to step foot in your house, which I don't, George would probably poison my drink, so no, thanks."

For a moment, he's quiet, as if trying to think of some way to insult you. Then, he says, "I admit, I thought Barnes would've sent Kipps. Maybe even Kat. But not you."

You cross your arms, the cold air nipping your bare arms. You hadn't thought to bring a jumper with you. "Like I said to Lucy, Barnes caught me while I was on my run. I think he was going to head here himself, but decided he liked seeing your faces even less than I do and sent me on my way. Pig."

Lockwood breathes a laugh like he's hesitant to really laugh in front of you. He leans against the doorframe. "Are you sure you don't want to come in for a moment? You're shivering, and it's cold out."

"I'm more than sure." You peek past him, eyeing the clutter and the hint of a collapsed pile of clothes in one of the rooms with disdain. "I need to get back anyways. The sight of you is making me feel violently ill."

"All right, all right, there's no need for that. We were having a civil conversation for a moment. At least take this." He reaches behind the door, pulling out a large grey hoodie. "It's cold, and it's a long walk back to Fittes."

With a bit of hesitation, you take the hoodie from his hands. It's warm like it's been over a radiator. "Thanks. I'll get this back to you."

"Hey, at least it matches your uniform."

"Oh, shut up. You're just proving you've got no sense of style - it's not even the same shade. And, I'm just noticing, you're still not able to match your socks and tie. You need to do some homework."

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Get gone. You're making the street look untidy."

You flip him off before turning and trudging down the steps, then make your way home.

--

"That's not your jumper."

You look up from your mug of coffee tiredly. The case you'd been on the night before has left you completely drained, and having a nine am start didn't make it any better. Even the coffee hasn't perked you up.

"What?"

Kat's icy gaze studies the hoodie you wear. "Did you not hear me? I said -"

"I know what you said. But why?"

"Whose is it?"

You rub your eyes. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

"It's Anthony Lockwood's, isn't it?" she says, practically spitting the name. "I thought you hated him."

"Like I said, none of your business."

You pull the grey jumper tighter around you. The whole morning, you've been so cold that you've resorted to wearing it. And, despite your - now, somewhat mixed - feeling for Lockwood, you find comfort in the scent of tea and toast it carries. You've not seen him in the last few days since he gave it to you, so you've not had the opportunity to return it. Might as well take advantage of it, seeing as all of your jumpers are dirty.

Kat scowls. "Give it back. Burn it. Just get rid of it."

"I'll do what I want with it," you say, shocking yourself with your defensiveness. "Just lay off. I'm cold, I'm tired, and I'm hungry. I'm not in the mood for this."

"You're never in the mood for anything," Kat says.

"I wonder why," you mutter quietly before taking a sip of your coffee.

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing. Just saying how much I appreciate your constant input."

--

"Saving you again. Who'd have thought?"

Lockwood rolls his eyes, rapier held out in front of him. "I think you enjoy it. That, or you enjoy seeing me. I'd prefer the latter because I love the attention, but either way."

You scoff, throwing a salt bomb at the ghost that has cornered you both. "I most certainly do not like seeing you. It's the worst part of my week."

"Oh, sure, love."

The nickname causes you to choke, but you keep your guard up. This ghost is relentless, and you won't let some arrogant boy cause you to falter. You're one of the best agents Fittes has, a professional in your field. You know better than to let him distract you.

In front of you, the ghost makes a faint wailing sound, though your Listening isn't strong enough to make out what it's saying. Judging from the glowing blood that pours from its neck and spills over its dress, you judge that it's a Wraith, and not a very happy one at that.

"What's our plan, then?" you ask. "We're trapped in a hallway with nothing but a basement door behind us. Lucy and George are looking for the source, I take it?"

"Lucy and George didn't take this case with me. They're on a separate one."

Scowling, you say, "Oh, well, just as well that I happened to pass by when I did then, huh? You'd be dead right now if it weren't for me."

You're about to keep talking, but Lockwood shouts, "Duck!" before tackling you to the ground. Your head narrowly misses the wall but bangs against the floor instead, and you're overtaken by a horrible chill as the ghost darts over top of you both.

All of a sudden, you're acutely aware of Lockwood on top of you, shielding you from what could've been potential ghost touch. His breath is warm on your face, and you can feel his heart racing above your own, which feels like it's going a million miles an hour. Your cheeks, despite the chill, feel awfully hot. He looks down at you, grinning and about to say something.

"Watch out!" you interrupt, kicking him off of you and grabbing his rapier. You slash it through the air, temporarily dissolving the ghost.

You push yourself off the ground, throwing another salt bomb at the Wraith. Lockwood is on his feet shortly after, and you both hurry to his iron circle by the living room door, panting and gasping for breath. The lamp in the centre flickers slightly, and the floorboards creak.

"Hell of a house you've got here," you grumble. "Who is this miserable git anyways?"

Lockwood eyes the ghost before grinning at you once more. "Lady called Angela, was killed in a burglary back in, oh, what did George say? Nineteen-forty-nine, I think. As you can see, she's very unhappy."

The Wraith wails and a liquidy choking sound becomes more apparent, which makes you squirm. Your Sight is about as good as your Listening, but it's still hard to make out the glowing features of the woman besides all of the blood and her spotty dress.

"Your Touch is good, right?"

"Best of the best."

Lockwood scoffs. "All right, no need to get cocky."

"You're one to talk."

"I was just going to ask if you could search for the source with your Touch while I cover you! You make everything so difficult."

You brush hair out of your eyes. "Yeah, me. Okay, whatever. I'll go find this source then. Which room is my best bet?"

"Living room."

Glancing into the room just beside you, you nod, waiting for your cue to go. For a brief second, Lockwood touches your arm, telling you to stay safe, and then he's launched himself at the ghost. You don't stick around to see what kind of pretentious rapier moves he's doing.

The living room is pretty empty, compared to others you've seen. The walls are plain and beige, with very few photos hung up in boring old frames. There's a two-seater sofa with the ugliest floral pattern you've ever seen and an armchair that doesn't match in the slightest. The fireplace has no wood, no ash, no nothing as if it hasn't been used for years.

You're instantly drawn to the fireplace. Crouching down to the ground, you place your hand on the bricks that make it up, closing your eyes and falling into your senses.

The room has changed. It's brighter, more colourful, happier. Sunlight streams through the window, and a woman hums as she dusts the ornaments on the wall. She's pretty, wearing a spotty blue dress, and her voice is soothing. When she passes over to the fireplace, it's almost as if she is really there next to you, replacing the burnt wood with fresh. But her fingers graze a brick inlaid in the ground, lingering for a moment too long before she moves away to replace the flowers in a vase.

Colours blur as the vision fades away and the sounds of Lockwood's fight resume. Immediately, you begin clawing at the brick you saw in the vision, grateful to find it loose already. A horrible wail indicates that you're right.

A spider crawls out of the hollow gap beneath the brick, and you reach your hand into the gap, which is filled with cobwebs. Your fingers latch onto something, but you don't stop to look at what it is before you wrap it up in the silver net you always keep in a pouch on your belt.

Seconds later, Lockwood appears in the doorway, panting and smiling. "Thanks for the help, love. You're very handy. What's the source?"

You scowl. "Don't call me that."

"What? Love? Thought you'd like it. I mean, you've still got my jumper, and Lucy says that's got to mean something."

"Be quiet. I've not had the chance to give it back. Here's the source. Look for yourself. I'm heading home, as far away from you as I can get."

"Oh, come on. Let me walk you home at least."

For a moment, you consider it, and you hate yourself for it. But part of you, a treacherous little piece of your heart, yearns for it. When was the last time someone walked you home? When was the last time someone offered to bring you in for a coffee or gave you their jumper to keep you warm? Though you hate to admit it, Anthony Lockwood is not the worst out of all the people in London.

"Fine," you mutter. "Just this once."

--

"So, tell me about yourself, love. What makes you tick?"

You look at Lockwood incredulously. "This isn't the time, you twat! There's a pack of Phantasms following us."

Lockwood glances back at the ghosts trailing you. He waves a hand nonchalantly. "Oh, they're fine. We're covered in iron and silver protection."

"I can hear them calling for us, and they're getting closer."

"Well, good thing you've got me to walk you home. Who better to keep you safe?"

You curse under your breath, wondering why you'd ever agreed more than once to let him walk you home. The first time was bearable, the second time less so. Now, the eighth, you're at your wit's end. Having the company, especially when walking in the dark so late at night, made you feel a little better, but things would definitely be splendid if he'd shut his mouth for once.

"What did I say about you calling me 'love'?"

"If I remember correctly, you said, and I quote, If you call me that again, I'm going to tear out your tongue and feed it to Kipps for breakfast. Did I get that right?"

"Yes, you did."

"Well, if it annoys you, more the reason to say it, right, love?"

You shove him, and he stumbles, laughing, as you trudge along the park's path, glancing back at the phantasms following behind.

"So...?" Lockwood says, drawing near once more.

You raise your eyebrows. "So?"

"What makes you so prickly? Kat Godwin is bad, but she's quiet most of the time. You, on the other hand, spark a debate the minute you walk into a room. What is it? An incessant hatred for the world? Never had any friends growing up? Oh, I know, you had a pet that got run over when you were a child, and now you hate everyone in return?"

Glaring at him, you say, "No. To all of them."

"So what is it then?"

"I don't know." You shrug. You don't know why you feel the urge to tell him a real answer. "I've never seen anything different, I suppose. My parents didn't really... parent, when I was a kid, so now I don't know how to talk to people any other way than how I do. It's how they spoke to me, or so I've been told. Kipps put me in therapy for a while, but my therapist was a thick-skulled -"

Lockwood's laugh cuts you off, and you glance at him sidelong. There's something about the way the moonlight hits his skin; how the cold midnight air makes his cheeks rosy; how his smile seems to light up his face. It makes everything feel a little less bad.

"I don't know how to word things without sounding mean," you say, "because that's all anyone has ever been to me. Even at Fittes."

"So you don't mean to hurl verbal abuse at me every chance you get?"

"Oh, no, I absolutely do. You're the biggest idiot I've ever met, and you could really work on that narcissism of yours. It's a killer. Real no-go for a girl."

"So now you're saying you're interested in me, but my confidence is putting you off?"

The arrogance in his eyes makes you want to strangle him. "No, that's not what I'm saying at all."

But, is it? You're not sure. There's a funny feeling in your chest, but you're half convinced it's just heartburn and not something people tend to call 'crushing' or 'loving'. You're not entirely sure what either of those things feels like.

He makes to speak again, but he glances back at the group of phantasms following you and grins. "Fancy another ghost fight tonight?"

You sigh. "You really know how to get a girl excited."

--

"Love, pass me a salt bomb or five."

You glance into the hallway for any of the other agents scouting the mansion, scowling. "Don't call me that!"

"Whatever you say, love. Now, the salt bombs?"

Resisting the urge to throw them at his face, you pass Lockwood a few salt bombs begrudgingly.

Your Fittes team and Lockwood's agency have been teamed up on a case by DEPRAC, and Lockwood being the pompous ass he is paired you both together and has been teasing you incessantly. Nothing new there, except for the feeling it incites in your chest.

It can't really be described as heartburn, anymore, because it only ever happens whenever you see him or hear his name. You've found yourself growing bored and - you hate to say this - lonely without his company and quips, and find yourself to be your happiest when throwing insults at each other, though they feel a little more light-hearted now than they once did. Well, you feel as happy as you believe you can be, with as little experience of it as you've had.

You try to ignore the way your skin tingles and cheeks flush when his fingers brush yours and try even harder to pretend you don't see the shit-eating grin on his face from your reaction.

"You're insufferable, you know that right?" you ask as you pull iron chains from your bag.

"Only because you tell me every chance you get," Lockwood says. "I live to give you that privilege."

You roll your eyes. "I can stab you with my rapier, so you'd do well to remember that."

The weight of his arm rests on your shoulders, and he pulls you close to his side. You grow tense at the sudden movement and the close proximity, and hope he can't feel your racing heartbeat. It'll only give him one more thing to pick at you about. You're just unused to being held, you tell yourself.

"But you wouldn't do that, love. You've grown quite fond of me these past few months."

"Have not."

"Care to return my jumper, then? I'm in dire need of it."

Once more, your face flushes. "You told me to keep it a little longer while my morning runs are still cold."

"As a formality. You were meant to say something smart like, Like hell I will, asshat, take it back before I become infected by the bacteria you carry. Your insults are becoming boring."

"Is that so?" You narrow your eyes at him. "Well, you are an asshat, for one. For two, I'd advise you let go of me, or I fear my skin will burn off from the way your brain is overheating trying to keep a conversation with me. So, love, how about you take your arm back?"

He grins, drawing you closer until your cheeks are almost touching. "If I die from overheating, you're going down with me."

You shove him away, scowling once more, but part of you wants to laugh. This kind of banter with him has grown familiar, comforting. And, well, though you might protest it much of the time, being called 'love' gives your heart a little flutter, like it's glad it's finally getting some attention after a lifetime of being as hard and cold as stone.

Bit by bit, Lockwood has softened it up, but you'll never tell him that. He would only grow too smug.

"You know," Lockwood says, "I think you're bribing DEPRAC so that you can get put on cases with us. This is the second one in two weeks."

"Why on earth would I ever bribe DEPRAC for that? If anything, I'd bribe them to get me out of it." You lay the chains out in a neat circle and place all your things inside. "If anyone's doing it, it's you, because you're obsessed with me."

"And so what if I am, love? You're very fun to poke fun at."

Your hands falter, and you hope he hasn't noticed. "Whatever."

He grins, watching your every move. "You can admit you feel the same, you know? You're not going to face a horrible death for admitting you enjoy spending time with me."

You don't know what to say to that. Because, yes, you do enjoy spending time with him, in your little confusing way. Being around him has opened you up to new feelings you've never had the chance to really feel before, and you're grateful for it, but admitting it? It's like giving him the key to a locked door and granting him 24/7 access. It terrifies you and makes you feel vulnerable.

"Be quiet so we can get on with our surveys," you murmur. "I'd like to get out of here as soon as possible."

"Scared? Don't worry, I can hold your hand."

And he does. His hand wraps around yours, enveloping it in warmth, and you find yourself staring at it, unwilling to pull away from his touch. It seems to shock Lockwood, too, judging from his parted lips and slightly-too-wide eyes, but his hand squeezes yours gently and you feel a little piece of your heart soften.

There's a creak in the hallway, and you jerk your hand away, standing straight, face hot. But there's nothing, no one. Just you, Lockwood, and a barrage of feelings you're not sure what to do with.

[thatonecrookedsmile]

You will acept your fate... Before the end..

------

Without much creativity to come up with a good line/phrase. I had to improvise.

It's been exactly 1 year since Bendy and the Dark Revival released...jeez. Already? I'm telling you, time doesn't make sense anymore, everything is going slower and faster at the same time. It's crazy!

I was in the middle of drawing something more specific for the anniversary but…I didn't finish it lol. Like always! But I have this prompt that I finished a few days ago and that I was hoping to post along with 2 more drawings. But I think today is a more ideal day to post this.

So as a anniversary present I give you guys…Angst™. With the boys. Very ideal.

I remember having another idea for this prompt but the current idea popped into my head so I decided to abandon the previous one. I found it more interesting. A "What-if" idea I had at the time the game launched partially inspired by something specific I thought about these two. Based so much on what I've seen and read about these ink creatures, and on the general idea of "2 minds in one".

I confess that in the end I started to question whether this is the way I see the relationship between these 2 and all this business of "two in one package" that they have. And I still don't know if this is really my vision. I just had a drawing idea that I thought was cool and I just stuck with it until the end. I didn't have many second thoughts until I got to the finish line.

Changing the subject: The anniversary.

I can't believe it's been 1 year since this game came out. The time flies! Good to know this finally released after 3 years.

I don't think I've ever talked abouy my thought on the game before,or at least,not the game as a whole. I wanted to leave this for the specific anniversary drawing, but hey. Why not here?

In short: I really liked it! I've been waiting for this game for a good while so when we finally got that final trailer last year, you could say I was pretty excited for the next 2 weeks until release. I don't know if I knew exactly what to expect from this game, and there's always that fear that I won't end up liking what I play when it released. But I really liked it! Loved it, I would say. I had a lot of fun and I believe I can say that, in general, I had a pretty positive experience with it.

Of course, I have my own grievances and complaints about some things in the game (some probably talked about here on Tumblr and others not) that I would like to see improved for next game,The Cage. But even with these complaints in mind, I wouldn't say that it took away my enjoyment of this game. Especially considering that the positive points (or at least what I consider positive in my opinion) for me, prevail over the negative ones.

At the end? Yeah, I really liked Bendy and the Dark Revival. Happy to see it finally released and be able to play it. I personally believe that we are in a good direction when it comes to the games, and I can't wait to see what the future holds.

Happy 1 year anniversary BATDR! And happy birthday to both Little Guy and Big Guy (Little Bendy and the new Ink Demon,respectively).

Love you both.

[anglercrit]

Honeslty I have no idea why H.H and H.B fans are like that.

In all of my years in the internet I have never seen a fandom so toxic a protective of a piece of media since the days of Steven Universe and this fandom is wayyyy worse.

If I have to do a comparison, the strongest stans act like Karen parents who think their little darling baby is perfect and can do no wrong.

When reality almost everyone and their mothers can see that the kid is faaaar from perfect can even be an asshole. But God forbid to mention that to them! Even you say in the nicest way possible, they'll make an scandal and accuse of being a horrible human being that is abusing their little darling

The most surprinsing thing off all is that the majority of this stans are ADULTS, and not even young adults like 18-19 but late twenties, early thirties.

Shouldn't they know better?

Shouldn't they know that is very inmature to start fights over a show?

Are their adults lives so boring and lack of meaning that their only hope to live another day is this mediocre sexy demon show?

It has to be! If they can go as far as harrass, bully and silence everyone that even has something negative to say about their show.

I am someone who considers hersefl a more passive fan, downgrade from the rabid fangirl I was when H.H pilot dropped and worse when H.B ep 1 arrived.

I don't like H.H but I still find H.B enjoyable to a degree (think about it like fast food). I like watching it and seeing fan art but I am by no means blind to its flaws.

Honestly I don't have much to say- I think your write up was pretty damn solid. I think it has to come from (at least partially) how Viv reacts to criticism. ANY critique and she starts publicly throwing a fit, even if it's harmless or from a fan. Then all of her rabid stans show up to defend her because GOD FORBID anyone critique the QUEEN OF INDIE ANIMATION

[bebop-station]

Shostakovich and Aziraphale

I was thinking (and talking to @balance-of-probability endlessly) about the choice to have Shostakovich's fifth symphony feature so heavily in S2 ep 1, and how it struck me as a little odd as there are a bunch of composers Aziraphale loves mentioned in the book and Shostakovich isn't amongst them.

Backstory: In 1934, Shostakovich’s opera Lady Macbeth of Mtensk premiered to huge popular acclaim, which was very briskly walked back in 1936 after the Stalinist newspaper Pravda published an article denouncing it.

Actually more than denouncing it, condemning it. It wasn’t credited but was authored by a guy called David Zaslavsky who was almost definitely scribing for Stalin himself. Lady Macbeth was banned in the USSR until 1961.

Anyway by 1936 Shostakovich had written his fourth symphony, which he withdrew from public performance until 1961 because it was more of the same thing that had made the Soviet leadership cancel Lady Macbeth – it was unconventional, anti-patriotic, and indicated that Shostakovich was a “bourgeois formalist”.

So he shelved it and started working on Symphony No. 5 which is, on the surface at least, Soviet as fuck. And that’s what we hear Aziraphale listening to in S2E1.

(Sidebar this story is told in Julian Barnes’ The Noise of Time which is either a literary wank soup or a masterpiece depending on how cranky you are when you first read it)

So basically what Dmitri Shostakovich did in those years between the fourth and fifth symphonies was something that might be familiar to S2E6 enjoyers/agonisers: he decided to toe the party line.

Kind of.

Listening to the finale of the fifth symphony (and if you want to listen along it’s the recording of Leonard Bernstein conducting the New York Philharmonic, it’ll be called something like Symphony No. 5 in D minor, Op. 47; iv. Allegro non troppo) without the context of the rest of the symphony or in fact Shostakovich’s life is like ah yes that’s a bit of a Soviet battle anthem let’s march into Leningrad or whatever.

But it is, as critics have increasingly understood in the years since Shostakovich demurely described it as “a Soviet artist's no-nonsense response to fair criticism”, dripping with irony. This man reviled the Stalinist line on art and life – he takes the Soviet anthem and turns it into a sort of fucked up evil clown march. The whole thing gives me this vibe:

(gif from @goodomensedit)

There’s a lot of stuff about that time in Shostakovich’s life that is extremely hard to verify. There’s a “memoir” which is for sure at least partially fabricated called Testimony in which there’s an alleged quote from our man saying that final movement is a parody, that “it's as if someone were beating you with a stick and saying, "Your business is rejoicing, your business is rejoicing", and you rise, shaky, and go marching off, muttering, "Our business is rejoicing, our business is rejoicing"."

Whether or not Shostakovich said that (some of his friends who outlived him support that reading, including Rostropovich who conducted a bunch of his work) you can definitely hear it in the piece and you can definitely see how it gives us a clue into the decision Aziraphale makes at the end of the season.

What Shostakovich had to decide back in the 1930s was whether he would a) flee to somewhere like the US, where many other artists targeted by Stalin went; b) stay and become a public nuisance, leading almost definitely to an off-the-books execution; or c) become a party-approved Soviet Artist and hope for change. Even nudge it along in a subtle way. Even get on the inside and work to bring it down. We don’t know how true that was for old mate Dmitri and we don’t yet know exactly what Aziraphale has planned. But yeah:

tl;dr: Shostakovich 🤝 Aziraphale

          Staying inside a rancid and destructive militarised culture in the hope that it can change

[ask-the-royal-absol]

Linda@Flint: "You know you're actually right about this kid being funny." The dragoness chuckled as she points her thumb at Destino. "I hear he's gotten himself into shit a few times cause people take 'em the wrong way. But it sounds like you know a bit about this absol already. You probably know about this prophecy involving him too. But I'm gonna be honest..." She trailed off as she looked around the room, appreciating the size and décor. "I'm a bit more interested to hear about this kingdom you're running. How far would you say it reaches and how long have you been running it? If it's anything like this castle then I bet it's pretty impressive."

Flint: Them. You use them, don't you?

Destino: Sure do. Suits me better.

Flint: Thought so. So, you wanna know about the kingdom? Hey Magmar, could you get the maps please? It'd be easier to show off our kingdom with it.

Magmar: As you wish, your highness.

*With a bow, Magmar ran quickly off into one of the rooms located on the side. Flint continued from where he left off.*

Flint: I've been running this kingdom for a good 30 years now. Inherited it from my father. It was difficult to take his place, I'll admit that. He had a...notorious reputation. But hard work is enjoyable work and work I certainly have. This kingdom is now thriving better than it ever has done before. It has to be partially thanks to the Underdark for allowing us access to their ores. Without those, I imagine many Pokémon wouldn't evolve into their final forms or perhaps even know about them.

Destino: At least we get some appreciation.

Flint: Of course your kingdom does. Our success depends on your trade relations with us.

*Flint caught a glimpse of something emerging from Destino's fur. Something purple. It took him by surprise when this shape formed into that of a creature.*

*Hope stepped up beside her father, knowing he'd never actually seen a ghost type before.*

Hope: Yeah, that's Destino's best friend. Felix. He tagging along too. He's a ghost type.

Felix: And poison. Ghost and poison.

Destino: Felix, out.

Felix: Sorry pal.

*Felix carefully left Destino's fur, making sure to pat down any loose strands. He knew how much Destino liked to keep themselves well groomed and he didn't want to cause them anymore frustration. He levitated next to the Prime. The king tried to settle himself. It was hard to when a mysterious visitor decided to appear from the long mass of fur on Destino.*

Flint: Wow. A real ghost! An actual ghost! That's not something you see everyday! At least, not up here.

Felix: Ghost type. Not a ghost.

Flint: What's the difference?

Felix: Ya see, I ain't dead. Just have abilities that resemble those of spirits.

Flint: Fascinating! I'll have to pick at you for more information about that! Anyway, yes. We could very well mine elsewhere. That's true. However, I'd much rather have the miners know they're going to be able to mine some ore, even if it is a small quantity of it. If they went somewhere new because our trading system broke down somehow, it'd mean we wouldn't necessarily be certain a days worth of mining would harvest results. The guarantee for resources is more valuable and more cost effective for me and the mining companies I work closely with.

Destino: So, without access to our resources, you'd be screwed over? Ha, I knew our kingdom was valuable to the surface. Serves you lot right for locking us away.

Flint: This kingdom tried to fight for your freedom, kiddo. We just unfortunately failed.

Destino: Clearly you didn't fight hard enough then.

Flint: Type advantage is a powerful thing, Prime.

*With a stream of panting, Magmar appeared from behind the king, holding what looked to be a beautifully adorned tube.*

Flint: You did well! Don't you worry too much about it! Which one is this?

Magmar: Land map. I've got the city map rolled up in there too, incase you need it.

Flint: And that's why you're one of the best advisors I've ever had! Good lad! Let's crack this open!

*Flint took the tube with the tips of his claws, unscrewing the deep blue cap from it. With claws that big, there was a little struggle for those fine motor movements but Flint was able to eventually get it off. He gave one of the maps back to Magmar who delicately put it back in the engraved tube. Flint then unrolled the perfectly kept map. It was surprising how neat it looked. No tears, no wear marks, no ageing either. It looked almost brand new.*

Flint: Now this right here is the land you stand upon. We are right here.

*He pointed at the dot labeled 'Terrestria'.*

Flint: And the land all around it is the land I govern. You see those black lines? There the boundaries of my kingdom and will one day belong to Hope.

*Using his claws, he traced the upper right corner of the landmass marked on the map.*

Hope: One day. You've just gotta give me the title first.

Flint: Yeah. It'll come, don't you worry about that. Now, the most interesting part about this is the city is called Terrestria and the kingdom, so everything inside of this area, is also called that too. I'm honestly not sure of the reasoning for that, you'd have to ask a historian or something.

*Destino stared at the map, looking at all of the features it had to show. They saw the rocky structure their group appeared from. This kingdom was absolutely huge. Compared to the Underdark, this was massive. Ridiculously so. Imagine all of the resources this land had to offer. All the space that could be given to its citizens. Destino knew their parents obtained an ok amount of foods and other items from Terrestria though it was never enough to feed absolutely everyone. Considering the amount of trip their parents took, no wonder they decided to continue their trade relations with this kingdom. Destino felt as though their kingdom had been cheated out on more. If they had this much to offer, why wasn't the Underdark given more? There was a growing sense of anger inside of Destino. They had to keep it together.*

Flint: You'll also notice that it's the smallest kingdom compared to the others. There's debate on whether Mechania or Terrestria is bigger but Mechania does seem like the larger kingdom. Naaturo has the largest kingdom but that's because it does the majority of food production. Queen Pollen is incredibly good at keeping her food supply lines going for the rest of the kingdoms. Whimsain also has a substantial amount but they won all that during the Great Type War. Can't really shift the boundaries of our kingdom as we don't want another war going on but it'd be nice to get a little more land to work with. Hope that answers what you wanted to know.

Flint: That's right. It's not completely public knowledge so I'd keep it on the hush-hush when you're outside these castle walls.

Destino: Wait, nobody outside even knows about this?

Flint: Only certain Pokémon do. If we spread knowledge of this union around, it'll end up in the ears of the Whimsain lot and we'd be in a distortion of a lot of trouble. It'd mean we couldn't provide any of our end of the bargain to you.

Destino: My lips are sealed, Flinto. Dunno if I could trust any of these idiots with this information but you do you.

*Flint looked towards Gizmo and Mouse, determining whether they could be trusted with this. He was usually a pretty good judge of character and they didn't seem like the type to spread something like this around. Flint made a mental note to send a couple of spies to watch and observe them for any suspicious activity. With a sigh, he felt he could deal with the risk well enough.*

Flint: Our union was established around 400 years ago. King Alumin of Terrestria and King Estavior of the Underdark met when the Terrestrians were trying to find a new mining route and agreed on a collaboration between the two kingdoms would be beneficial between the both of them.

Flint: Estavior allowed Terrestrians access to their mines, which we found out later on was a guarantee to harvest ores for evolution stones. Alumin offered foods and other resources for this. Kind of him but it's really helped us out in the long run. We've been going strong since then. Ores are super useful for us as we've got the knowledge to turn them into evolution stones. The ores of these stones are incredibly dangerous when raw.

Destino: We had one of our citizens try to use one of the ores scattered around. She did not recover from the deformations caused. So much energy and power to be harnessed. Honestly, if I had an ounce of interest in the matter, I'd be curious as to how I could use that power for myself. A spotlight for my own. That could be good. Always showing the most important Pokémon in the room.

Hope: Of course you'd say that. Surely there could be other things that the energy produced could be used for rather than yourself?

Destino: And what would be the point of that? Honestly Hope, you're not thinking of the bigger picture here. A spotlight. For me. It's a fantastic idea.

Felix: Des, perhaps we should draw the focus back to the King? This is interestin' stuff.

Destino: And bring the conversation back to something dull? Come on Felix. You know it'd be far more interesting talking about how I would use these ores if I wanted to use them.

Flint: Point is, these ores are dangerous when not cut into shape and we're able to turn them into something useful for everyone. The trade union is something that benefits both sides, even with the danger of being discovered. Perhaps you should take more interest in your history, young Prime. If you don't learn about it, you may make mistakes which could lead to the downfall of your kingdom if you're not careful.

Destino: Me? Making mistakes? Ha, that's hilarious. I doubt it.

*The map of Arkaedia is now available.*

@askiceboundlopunny @masked-vee

(6/6 - No more questions for now.)

[chevelleneech]

What would kill Oshamir for me

is having Qimir be fully grown, on Brendok 16 years ago, trying to abduct one or both of the twins.

Sorry not sorry, but I do not like the idea of them being etl nor anything at all romantically, if he decided when they were children, to groom them into being his evil companion. That’s not fun. Enemies to lovers is a trope set in fictional stories, meant to be unrealistic but at the very least sexy and bad for you, yet worth it. Knowing Qimir was laying in wait to abduct two children, yet failed and only got one, then met the other one as an adult and still tries to seduce her, is not it for me.

The only way it’ll still work, in my opinion, is if Qimir is not as old as his “it was a long time ago” answer implies. If he was between 10 and 18 (still older, but not to a creepy degree for the context I’m making up, lol) and wasn’t the one with the plan to abduct the girls. If his Master wanted them and he was dragged along to help or scout, then sure.

However, I do not see how Leslye’s opinion of them being etl without the manipulation and based on Qimir actually being honest without seeking redemption, works if he was on Brendok at all, even less if he as an active participant in the fire. You can’t make him responsible or partially for killing Osha’s family and have him be an adult who knew her as a child, then claim Qimir isn’t abusive and his feelings for Osha are rooted in vulnerability. That would be a total lie, and unless she lied to hide the true plot… it just doesn’t work.

As well, making the first, lead Black and Asian pairing in a franchise as popular as Star Wars, under a trope as juicy as etl, really just be groomer and victim, would be so wildly racist.

Anyway, this post is a result of fandom theories I’ve seen floating around, nothing concrete. But I really hope Qimir wasn’t there as an active player, because I really want to keep Oshamir enjoyable in canon.

[gramaphonejammin]

This drabble exists only because I was compelled by the sheer enjoyment this scenario brought me. I joked on @swifty-fox 's beautiful beautiful Brady art that he is my sweet Catholic boy and if he lived in the modern day would love being involved in the gay community building part of his local church. Hence this short modern AU! Drabble was born. Brady's characterization is largely inspired by "understanding in a plane crash" but he has slightly less issues bc he got access to the socialist Catholics at like age 18. So obv this is dedicated to Swifty-Fox for the brain worms!

(Brief Catholic explanation: the Catholic church is really big globally, in cities each church community is divided up into "parishes" where one or more priests manages that local community. Pastoral councils are volunteer/community groups that advise the parish on certain social issues and run events etc. In the modern day there are growing numbers of LGBTQIA+ groups that seek to create belonging and advocate for change in the church. I'm a part of one and think John would be too. Cue comedy.)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

A once-white plastic fan that’s been pulled to the end of its cord up to the plastic folding table is the only thing fighting against the oppressive late evening heat. This meeting should have ended an hour ago and John Brady knows it’s at least partially his fault.

John sighs, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief, “we are not changing the entrance hymn and I’m not budging on that.”

Thanks to this very pastoral council, their parish has been hosting a bi-monthly LGBTQIA+ affirming Saturday evening mass for years. Working with this fine group of people has been so good for John (or at least that’s what his husband tells him) but sometimes some of them can get on his nerves.

John is not even sure how they got to this topic. The entrance hymn has worked just fine for the past eight years, does it really have to change now? If anything, they should be talking about getting some A/C installed in this church. But this is the discussion they’re having, and John intends on finishing it.

Eugene, a retired older gentleman sitting across from John, is his main opponent. “I just don’t understand why not, it could be good to have a change. Spice things up!”

“It. Sets. The. Tone,” John says. Really, he’s the one who leads the church choir every mass you’d think they’d trust his musical opinions.

John looks around the table for back-up and realizes he’s almost out of luck. With summer vacations in full swing, there’s only five of them at tonight’s post-mass meeting and everyone (other than Eugene and John, of course) seem too tired to put effort into wrapping this argument up.

River, the youngest member of the group, is very clearly on their phone. David, Eugenes husband, is hopeless. (John doesn’t have anything against David, in fact he bakes wonderful shortbread, but he is Eugene’s husband and therefore a coward.)

John turns to his last hope sitting beside him and stares at her imploringly until she speaks without looking up from the rosary she’s thumbing, “we should listen to little John, he is usually right.” A Filipino grandmother to a transgender son, Mary Evangeline is the one voice of reason that John can always count on.

“Well, that’s two voices against one and—” before Eugene can interrupt him, John’s phone begins to buzz in his pocket. It’s his husband, “hold that thought, Eugene, I have to take this.” John rushes into the hallway and answers.

DeMarco’s smooth voice comes across clear and bright through the speaker. “There a battle going on down there?”

John laughs and silently sends a thank you to The Lord for gifting him this wonderful man. Benny knows him better than he knows himself. “And what makes you say that?”

“Could there be another reason why you’re late?”

“You know I don’t mean to fight I just—”

“Don’t like being wrong. I know.” John can hear the smug smile in his tone.

“I’m not wrong, that’s the thing.”

“You never are, dear. But it is getting late and I was expecting to spend my Saturday evening on the couch with you.”

Out of the corner of his eye he can see Father George shuffling down the hallways towards him.

“Sorry, love, I have to go. I’ll be home soon, I love you.”

“I love you, too. Play nice now!”

John hangs up just as Father George sidles up to his side, out of breath from the walk, “hello dear Bernard, are you all still here? It’s nearly 9!”

Pleasantly plump with tiny wisps of white hair and small rectangle metal glasses, Father George is the oldest priest in their parish and no matter how many times he earnestly gets his parishioners names mixed up no one has the heart to correct him. John, like everyone else in the parish, knows that that Father George has a weakness for treats and likely came by the meeting hall looking for any leftovers he could nibble on before going to bed.

“Yes, Father. But we are just wrapping up and will head home soon. There’s still some carrot cake that David baked left that you’re very welcome to, Father.”

“Now that, my child, is an offer I cannot refuse.”

Father George walks into the meeting hall alongside John to a chorus of hello Father. The Father walks over to the slices of carrot cake with intent and John watches aghast as Eugene turns to speak to Father George. That sneaky rat.

“Father George, you know that we’ve had ‘All Are Welcome’ as our entrance hymn for song long now and I was thinking that it would be great if—”

“Oh! I just love that hymn. What a joy it is to hear it!” Using the plastic fork he’s just grabbed as a mock-baton he starts singing in his nice but age-roughened voice, “let us build a house where love can dwell and all can safely live…all are welcome, all are welcome, all are welcome in this place!” Father George chuckles at the soft clapping he gets from River for his impromptu performance. “Now what were you saying about our entrance hymn, my son?”

Eugene looks defeated, “nothing Father,” he says. John smiles. Victory.

Time to get home to Benny.

[sirenjose]

So I've been really into your analysis lately and I'm a huge fan now, wanted to ask some questions, feel free to not answer any

1- what was your favourite idv story/event to analyze?

2- your least fav of the latter?

3- are you into anything else besides idv?

4-how do you find the motivation to analyze stuff? I've tried before and it was very draining :')

Thanks for your time, hope you have a lovely day

I'm very happy to hear you're enjoying yourself despite my own low opinion about much of what I put out. I'll do my best to answer!

Hmm I always dislike picking favorites because I'm bad at picking eheh... But the ones I liked most... I honestly enjoy T&I and COA (1-5) even more than the main story. So I think I might pick... Atropos' Ropes for T&I and for COA, thats harder... 3-5 are my faves but I might pick 4 just because of how it felt it had the most story/details given than all the rest. Even the *SONG* had story. I loved it.

Least fave, eh... Orfeo and Zinaida immediately come to mind, though Orfeo I'd say was worse... COA 1 is another primarily because of how DIFFICULT it was for me to figure it out enough to put together an analysis. And I had to rewrite that thing at LEAST 3 times to the point I'm just hoping it's good enough and leaving it alone. Time of Reunion I think is another that comes to mind, mainly because I didn't appreciate how they treated Norton in there, especially in the videos (but at least those aren't canon like the in-game event was). So based on all that, I might say Orfeo if I really had to pick 1. Then rank ToR 2nd and Zinaida/COA1 3rd.

FF14 and Honkai Star Rail especially I'm playing actively these days, but I honestly like a lot of stuff. Like Persona (espeially 4), 999 aka Zero Escape, and Star Ocean Til the End of Time. Least in terms of games.

Hmm... Maybe because the 1st reason I play a game is because of the story, and gameplay is always 2nd to me. If the story and characters are good, that gets me interested. Issue with IDV is we only get bits and pieces. Really need to look deeper to really understand some of the characters. I actually only started analyzing because I challenged myself (partially out of curiosity for the answer) to see if I could prove if Norton wasn't as evil as people thought (based on all the comments I saw when I 1st joined the fandom a long while ago). From there, there was Jose who I wanted to analyze because he honestly had so many plot holes I couldn't (and still can't completely) solve. So I get the most enjoyment analyzing something that doesn't have a clear answer. Which is why I don't always post for every letter. A big part of it is I enjoy history and culture and such, so it's fun for me to learn about different foods, or time periods, or how bad the environment was for miners or sailors back in the day, etc... I dont think I have an easy answer (I can see I'm rambling). Norton I actually only began to like because I was spending so long working on my 1st analysis for him (and my perfectionism made me analyze all of Norton's essences before i could call it finished). Jose was because I love Captain Hook, and then after because of the plot holes that bothered me. Then for others, I think I enjoy making analyses to... try to sometimes change people's opinoions/beliefs. Like with Margaretha or Vera. With Edgar was because I was more interested in his story and him as a character only once I put together all his lore. Sort of goes on from there. I could ramble on but I'm going to get even more guilty. I hope this helps somewhat, but let me know if it doesn't and I'll keep going. Maybe the simple is A) I like history/culture/research, B) I like to convince people that certain characters arent as evil as they think or change beliefs I think aren't quite accurate, C) I like solving puzzles and I love story, D) I already think too hard about literally everything, and combined with my perfectionism, we get analysis

[anhilliator1]

I feel like something needs to be stated about the four Chaos Gods -

THEY'RE NOT INHERENTLY EVIL.

They're unbalanced. Let me explain:

Khorne: Chaos God of War, Death, Violence, Rage, Murder, etc... Long story short, Khorne likes to kill things and/or see things die - "Khorne cares not from where the blood flows." As a result, it would be very easy to assume that he's pure evil - but no. Khorne also represents Justice, honor, courage, strength - Without Khorne, there would be no such thing as "Righteous Fury." Fighting for what is right technically falls under his domain as well. In a sense, he could be considered the Chaos God of Morality. In fact, he strongly dislikes underhanded tactics, hence why he often finds himself at odds with Tzeentch.

Nurgle: Chaos God of disease, decay, rot, stagnation, and so on. Nurgle is commonly associated with the color green, for good reason. As said, disease, death, rot, stagnation - but also resilience, rebirth, and consistency in everything. Technically speaking, he's the Chaos God of life and nature. No Nurgle, absolutely everything would be inconsistent. There would be no such thing as safety, because there would be no consistent definition of what "safe" is.

Tzeentch: CG of instability, inconsistency, trickery, manipulation, cunning, lies, deciet, and change. He plays you like a fiddle, and what you may think is reality may not be true. He's like Mysterio, but a gajillion times more powerful. However, he also represents hope, evolution, the ability to problem solve, and more. Tzeentch is the reason why Guile Heroes exist in 40K, and can be said to at least partially be empowered by the actions of people like Creed and Ciaphas Cain. As TTS puts it, "Without him, there would be no evil schemes, but also no one clever enough to save people from those schemes." Also, change isn't inherently evil - change is constantly happening, all the time, something that puts him at odds with Nurgle due to him being Stagnation. Funny thing, Happy Chaos from GGST can sort of be considered Tzeentch if he was more balanced rather than inclined evil.

Now, Slaanesh - Hedonism, sex, lust, pleasure, indulgence, suffering, etc... Hell, they were literally murder-fucked into existence by the Eldar. But, they also represent Passion, Joy, hell, maybe even the concept of emotion itself. Passion, it must be mentioned, is not restricted to the sexual kind - it's the creative kind, the "for-a-cause" kind - same with Pleasure. You gain pleasure from doing things you love, not inherently sexual - and technically, without Slaanesh, there would be no meaning to doing, well, anything - no happiness, no sadness so that happiness means anything, no enjoyment and no disgust, no love or hate... I think you get the idea.

The Chaos Gods represent important mental concepts inherent to all life, and all thoughts of said life - good or bad.

So why are they villains? As said, they're unbalanced, courtesy of the Necrontyr royally screwing things up by messing with the Great Old Ones and the C'Tan. As a result, the Warp, once peaceful, became a violent place roiling with negative energy, some of which became Daemons. This caused each of the four and their followers to become heavily inclined towards the worst parts of what they represent, why Khorne and his followers kill and destroy anything and everything in their path, why Tzeentch and his followers will endlessly lie, cheat, manipulate, and more to make you do what they want (prisoner's dilemma is the very tippy-top of the iceberg), why Nurgle and his followers spread filth, rot, and disease everywhere they go, and why Slaanesh and their followers endlessly rape and torture.

They're unbalanced.

In fact, everything I just said can sort of be summarized by this video:

It's why in the episode of TTS this is from, I noticed the Emperor's wording when he said he would DEFEAT Chaos, not Kill, DEFEAT. I always took it to mean that he would essentially force them to "get back to work" in a sense - go back to being balanced representations of their concepts and stop interfering so much with the Material.

[quibbs126]

So I decided to finish off the day with a kid from scratch (granted I ended up finishing later than I thought), whom also happened to not be a request, but I decided to do because the pairing caught my eye when scrolling to Dark Sapote. Anyways, this is Matcha Cheesecake

…Uh, I’m only realizing now I don’t have a character for her. She just has vibes and a design. Let me make something up right quick

Let’s see, she’s an avid party lover, frequently attending her mother’s parties (though not in this outfit, rather the one from the sketch). She also tends to be a bit egotistical and vain. However, her more eccentric personality only tends to come out at parties or in social events; outside of that she’s a lot more of a shut in

She’s also not exactly helpless, as she constantly grows plants, and they even tend to grow on her. The plants she grows also tend to be sentient, and see her as their master. So it’s best not to cross her

…I don’t really have much else. I mean I guess at least this wasn’t a request so that I disappoint whoever asked for it, but I feel like I’m not giving much interesting here either way

The name’s pretty obvious and self explanatory. She’s a cheesecake made with matcha, her name is literally a combination of her moms

Matcha cheesecake:

I’m gonna be honest, I feel like she could have turned out way better. Or at least, I think so in my head

She wasn’t that bad during the sketch phase, but it got difficult with the colors. I think it’s a case of Matcha and Cheesecake’s colors working well together as a pair, but when I try to combine them, at least how I was attempting to here with the light greens, they don’t work that well. Her final color scheme was me trying to come up with colors that looked semi nice together

A real shame too, since the pictures I found of matcha cheesecake (as well as basque matcha cheesecake since that’s a thing too) had some really nice looking color schemes

Also, during the final phases of the sketch, I was debating between this outfit and the one you see in the rough sketch above

In my eyes, she has both outfits, but one she wears at parties and the other is her casual, I just wasn’t sure what to make her default, until my friend said the second one

Speaking of the dress, that was giving me so much trouble throughout the sketching phase, I kept having to try and make new ones over and over again until I eventually got to the two you see

I tried using Festivia from Star vs as a reference, which is why she has her horns that way and the headband. She also originally had an outfit closer to Festivia’s, but it didn’t pan out because of the legs

I swear, every time I draw a character sitting with their legs in a certain position, they end up wearing a dress or something that partially goes over their legs, and it makes my job so much harder. I know I do it to myself, but still, it’s really frustrating

To be honest, I don’t know if my frustration comes from me not liking her design, or if it’s just that I’ve been up all night and she doesn’t look exactly perfect. My thoughts on her may change come the morning. But I don’t feel like she’s my best work. Maybe I stretched myself too thin creatively by trying to make myself to a third guy by day’s end

Anyways yeah, that’s Matcha Cheesecake. Not much to write home about to be honest, but I hope you can find some enjoyment from her

[thatgirlonstage]

For the mermay... how about sebaciel and the prompt is... nesting.

Hope you see this nonny!! Sorry it took a while to get to it!

———

“You needn’t be so secretive about it.”

Ciel’s cheeks flare red, a blush that spreads all the way down his neck. “It’s a humiliating necessity.” His eye is sharp and blue as he turns to glare at Sebastian. “You’re laughing at me.”

“Not at all,” Sebastian says, not bothering to hide his teeth. “Only at your meager capacity.”

“That’s the same thing!”

“I only observe that you should simply have asked me for help from the start.” Sebastian drifts around the edge of the ramshackle assortment of rocks, seaweed, coral, and sand. “I take it your parents or their servants always constructed your nests in the past?”

Ciel looks pointedly away. His tail is already starting to shed quite noticeably, deep, shimmering navy blue scales as yet unfaded by sun or sand showing through in patches. Sebastian’s jellyfish tendrils trail along the edge of the sand circle, feeling its lumpy and uneven sides. This would be no comfortable place for Ciel to wait out his molt.

“Just take care of it,” Ciel says.

Sebastian bends in a slight bow. “Yes, my lord. You shall have only the most luxurious of nests.”

Ciel huffs, sending up a stream of bubbles, but settles himself against one of the large rocks partially sheltering this section of sea floor—at least the boy had some sense of location, Sebastian reflects—and lets Sebastian get to his work.

As he clears and sorts the fumbling attempts at picking out rocks and coral, Sebastian calculates in his head. With the shedding he’s already seen on Ciel’s tail, he’ll probably need to retreat to the nest by tomorrow evening at the latest. Swimming while in molt is possible, but grossly uncomfortable and likely to damage the new scales before they’ve finished hardening. Ciel, young as he still is, will probably need four, maybe even five days before he’s ready to move again. They will have to push back their plans to investigate Druitt’s underwater palace. Ciel will no doubt proclaim his readiness to move after only two days, but Sebastian will simply have to insist on staying in the nest.

It will be… oddly peaceful, those days of nothing but rest and grooming, Sebastian thinks. Nothing to do but scrub the dead old scales away and let the new ones finish growing in. A year ago, Sebastian would have balked at the notion he would be stuck on this contract long enough to see the child molt. Now, he feels an odd warmth at the anticipation. There is, perhaps, something unusually enjoyable about this particular deal, this particular contractor, something that makes Sebastian not mind so much adding extra days to their time together.

He does nothing so gauche as to steal looks at his little master. If, though, in the course of his work, he happens to be positioned so as to spy Ciel’s attention on Sebastian’s hands as they work, on the ghost of a pleased smile with a hint of its own hunger—well, he simply has good eyes.

———

Mermay prompts are open until May 31st!

[syrupsyche]

Instead of working on the actual fic, I'm going to be sharing headcanons on my canon era Enjsette siblings au. I would probably mention some parts of it in the fic(s) I'll be sharing but if they never see the light of day, here are some of them! Shoutout to @pumpkinspice-prouvaire for inspiring this post <3

Fantine absolutely adored getting matching EVERYTHING for her kids: that goes for their names (Eugène and Euphrasie), their outfits, and even their hairstyles. She likes to match her hairstyles with them as well :')

Speaking of hair, since Enjolras has the same hair as her, she lets it grow out so that she can comb and style it. He may be 3 years old but he sure has a ton of hair

When they get placed with the Thenardiers, just as how Mme. Thenardier was Cosette's main tormentor, M. Thenardier would be Enjolras'

Other than the canonical heavy labour Cosette had to do, Enjolras would be sent out to pickpocket from the inn's customers and the rest of the town's inhabitants as well

Whenever Enjolras got caught, Thenardier would put on a big act and punish him in front of whoever was the victim ("My sincerest apologies, good monsieur/madame! He must have gotten his nastiness from his good-for-nothing mother.") before taking him away and just punishing him once more for getting caught

(And I'm not saying this is where Enj would get his immensely deep-rooted sense of injustice from but im NOT not saying that either :))

Cosette and Enjolras would try to take the brunt of the punishments for each other but that just became getting twice the punishment. Eventually, they learnt to just rely and comfort each other afterwards

When Valjean comes to find them, he buys Catherine for Cosette and a toy soldier for Enjolras. He named him Jacques.

Enjolras took longer than Cosette to warm up to Valjean (M. Thenardier was his tormentor after all, so his trust in male authority figures was already low), but eventually grew to trust him once his sister did

Enjolras especially loved hearing Valjean read to him. Valjean read the usual children's books and fairytales but when Enjolras began begging for more, he just gave up and started reading anything he could get his hands on: history, philosophy, etc. (which is why Enjolras turned out Like That)

When they move to the convent, while Cosette went to school, Enjolras stayed in the hut and continued being taught by Valjean (and Fauchelevent!) While Cosette was intended to become a nun, Enjolras was to take over as the convent gardener

Cosette would run up to the hut and chat with Enjolras whenever it was playtime- they would exchange whatever they had learnt during the day

Slowly, Enjolras got his hands on more and more radical books, teaching himself about the current political climate of France and devoting all his time to reading and (attempting to) write his own essays

Eventually, when the family left the convent, it was partially to allow Enjolras to pursue his new-found interest in politics as well as the canonical reason of letting Cosette explore society.

Due to their difference in interests, Enjolras and Cosette grew apart, though all 3 family members clearly still cared for one another deeply

Understanding the dangers of dabbling in politics, he decided to go by a moniker in order to keep his private family away from his public affairs. Thus, Enjolras was born.

This is where my fics begin to pick up from so I guess no more spoilers (??) Hope this made some bit of sense or at the very least, the drawings were enjoyable! :D

[a-stone-slab]

The characters of The Amazing Digital Circus all (with the exception of Bubble) seem to represent grief, but each representing one symptom, and not the entirety of grief.

The symptoms are: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance.

Pomni *denies* the circus being real, thinking it's a dream. Kinger also represents Denial, but less willingly, as he doesn't seem to even WANT to deny things, moreso that he *denies* it all in favor of being Himself and having accepted living in the Digital Circus.

Zooble is constantly *angry* and represents Anger. This one is self-explanatory when you watch the episode.

It's hard to figure out who represents Bargaining, but it might be Ragatha, as she attempts to *bargain* with the others, with a whole "If we all participate in Caine's games, it gives us something to do and we can stay happy!" kind of demeanor.

Bargaining could also be Caine, as he *bargains* with the group to get them to comply. He gives them what they seem to want (to the best of his ability), and tries to do anything to make them happy, for some unknown goal.

Gangle represents Depression. They hide between comedy, with an indestructible mask that reveals their *depression*. The fact that the mask cannot be broken, shows that Gangle's real personality is just extremely depressed, and that they hide behind their comedy (mask) to *mask* their depression.

Jax actually represents Acceptance. He's *accepted* his fate, and chooses to partially enjoy it, with his pranks and forms of enjoyment. Kinger, as mentioned earlier, also seems to have *accepted* living in the digital circus.

this isn't much of an analysis as i'm not meds rn and i am panicking because of an energy drink for some reason, so if there's anything wrong with this analysis then it's to be expected, but i hope this makes at least some sense.