#is this a hot mess? maybe so.

[royaltea000]

hey did it hurt

[lactoseintolerentswag]

when they've got interpreting spiderman noir under a specific cultural lens at the function [picture of me going insane]

I cant help myself.. what can i say. And since you've mentioned some research going on behind the scenes.. do you have any fun interpretations? Or even anything fun about the 1800s!

OH HI

Hm. I don't have anything as fun as historical dancing, but I suppose this does give me the excuse (thabk u) to blab about Noir's childishness.

(wow putting this under the cut bc it got longer than I thought it would LMAO)

I think what a lot of people (including Noir's contemporary writers and yes even the spiderverse interpretation) fall for when trying to read Noir's character is the imitation of his idea of what an adult is, that he hides behind. Like Noir's persona is incredibly exaggerated. He's playing pretend. Look here, he's practicing.

A lot of his persona as Noir is imitation! Imitation of his uncle, of Urich, of the violence he's been exposed to. He's running around in his uncle's old uniform. Fundamentally misunderstanding WHY his uncle had been ashamed of it and his role in the war.

And then he goes ahead and steals Urich's alias because it sounds Cool (which is such a teenage thing to do jesus christ).

But like that imitation of The Adult isn't something that's limited to that exaggerated persona that Noir encapsulates. Peter himself is trying So Hard to be grown up and tough and responsible that it loops back around to him being a brat who would try the three guys in a trench coat trick. He even gets beat up for it when trying to defend his aunt. And I mean I've posted about him being a brat.

About how he looks at Urich as a Prime Example of what a strong and knowledgeable adult is (which is part of why he reacts so volatile in response to Urich showing he's not exactly as morally righteous as himself, he's wounded and let down). Whiskey? Whiskey sounds like someone Mature and Cool would drink, I'll have it too. And then proceeds to throw his drink at Osborn and laugh about it. The illusion was broken for me then.

But well it's not broken for everyone. I mean like obviously I poked at the contemporary writers, but I'm more talking about the other characters in the narrative. Mainly Urich and Felicia.

Urich taking Peter under his wing isn't entirely under the motivation to nurture Peter. I think it Becomes that, but he's really envious of that kid. He wants to see him lose that hope that he once had (ruh roh the opposite thing happened, being around the kid made YOU more hopeful Ben. Guess you gotta be good. Hope you don't die now).

Urich really is exposing him to an extremely harsh reality, and taking him places where adults are typically only allowed. He's letting Peter get a glimpse into what it's like, which will eventually enable Noir's tool of violence. All these tests will accumulate into what Peter thinks someone powerful and strong can be and do.

Then his problematic relationship with Felicia (writers I'm malleting you for this). He's clinging to her adulthood and the safety she represents, and he's young but she sees some adult strength in him. I mean she trusts him with the blackmail Urich gave her, which she really. Shouldn't, even if that's what Urich wanted.

Anyway, strength is something she's been consistently drawn to her in her partners. Strength to feel as her own. Even if it's to hers and others' detriment. There's also a part of Peter that's drawn to Felicia because Urich was. He's still honing in the good parts of Urich he wants to be.

I think the one person in the narrative who doesn't fall for it? Is Aunt May. You could argue it's just her being naturally motherly, but for someone who was about to be eaten alive she's pretty frank with Noir. I think she can see that that violence and exaggerated grittiness comes from someone inexperienced and young. Even if she can't consciously recognize the similarities between Noir's persona and Peter's protectiveness of her. I don't think she wants to see that. I actually have a short comic script about that, but it probably will never see the light of day.

Ugh he's like a cat puffing up to scare away a predator. It's fake!!!!! It's all fake!!!!!! He gets intimidated by JJ, he never ties his shoes, gets powers and then immediately guns to beat the shit out of Osborn, sings about the sandman when he's getting his face bashed in, crawls to Felicia all pathetic and sad, and he made a costume to run over roofs at night in.

And it's funny how he's forcing himself to grow up, but also really sad because all the things he's being exposed to is already forcing him to grow up. He's witnessing things no kid should ever see or experience.

Then there's the time period to consider. The aftermath of WWI, being in the midst of the Great Depression, and WWII just around the corner. He's faced incredible hardship and is going to continue to face so much hardship, and he's going to mature faster than he ever should have. It should have made him crash and burn Hard when he became an adult, and to me he still does because I'm ignoring everyone after ewaof LMAO.

As for my research on the 1800s NY that's for my own spider iteration run I'm working on, so not too related to Noir until I reach the 30's :3

Hope that was satisfying!!

[lighthouseshepard]

its interesting how i can look at a favorite character, someone messy, complicated, defined by their grief, imperfect in all the ways someone could be, full of bad habits but striving to do better, argumentative, stubborn - and i think yes, i like you alot. i admire you for all your faults. but i turn that look inward and see myself: someone messy, complicated, defined by grief but trying desperately to figure out who they are outside of those confines. and i can't give myself the same compassion, the same admiration. isnt that funny

[xxplastic-cubexx]

ohhh i just know magneto is so pathetic in bed constantly asking charles if he’s making him feel good and charles just praising him like 😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌

THIS IS WHAT I LOG ON TO THIS WEBSITE FOR 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

[sideblogdotjpeg]

have been thinking about professor sol even. professor bufo with no clearly discernable lesson plan. sol bufo ostensibly martial arts professor who spent two weeks running a yoga and meditation program and shows up to the next class with crochet hooks for everyone. professor bufo who is technically supposed to be assigning grades to students but hasnt given anyone less than an A because "i think they worked really hard and they did a great job :)" (referring to the ugliest and most malformed pot holder anyone has laid eyes upon in their life). professor bufo who is on his way to cluelessly kickstart the sexual awakening of about half the cohort of the academys new students. sol bufo adjunct professor who is gone half the year and his first class back is so immediately and easily baited into going into a long tangent about how cool his friends are. sol who is pretty sure hes easily the most useless professor on campus and almost cries when he sees his little desk overflowing with thank you notes at the end of the year. professor bufo absolutely fucking gloriously hot in the tightest little sweater vest because there were faculty complaints when he wore a crop top to class.

[fisheito]

Typing "capsaicin snake effect" into the search bar so i can figure out if yakumo can eat spicy food

[nihilismtrcit]

did nora clean or unpack anything today? no. did she write? also no. she did have beer for breakfast, though

[yuji-enjoyer]

Attempting a comic format for the next itafushi tattoo au post, this time actually featuring itafushi for once

[d-llahanspade]

[lemonlovemeanslove]

Coffee Prince is like such an easy go-to example as to why genderqueer AFAB x cis man relationships are in fact queer, like thats in their nature. The show is a queer show about queer romance, about sexuality and gender and the complex, complex ways these things interact with culture and intense feelings. The sworn brother oath is such a great way to exemplify how we use socially accepted concepts of intimacy between men to justify (both to others but mostly to ourselves) why the feelings we feel for that particular person are so intense. When Eun Chan cried "I am neither man or woman," that is a confession. The ''whether you're a man or an alien'' line I have more complicated feelings with.

(Context: I've grown up in the Middle East in a very conservative circle. I say this now because when I tell you I KNOW misogyny and homophobia, I mean I KNOW misogyny and homophobia, and have in my youth consumed a lot of East Asian media where I have definitely noticed a kind of trend in many different genres. Because of misogyny, there is for a lot of women with a kind of fantasy of being loved despite being female. The man-woman relationship is so loaded with so much angst and patriarchy that there is this kind of underlying feeling that you aren’t liked for you, that you are seen for your gender and what it’s supposed to look like, to the point where it’s hard to want to project yourself into a typical F x M dynamic, because you can really only associate it with the patriarchal ideal you so wish to avoid for yourself.)

But anyways, that line to me is also hinting to this: hey, this isn’t just my kind of strange and confused coming out because I feel strange and confused, but also you, Eun Chan, are something out of binary that my subconscious has kind of picked up on but that I right now don’t really have the words for or even awareness of. Eun Chan sometimes wants to be perceived as female—or rather, as a ''girl'' sparkle sparkle—but only when looking for or wanting male validation. (This might seem contradictory to the italicized section, but it actually isn’t. Wanting to escape the role of the female completely but still craving the attention you have been taught to chase actually go very much hand in hand with each other.) Eun Chan is always performing gender when they need to. When they don’t, it isn’t brought up. It isn’t given a name, it just is.

Yes, I know it’s an older drama from a conservative country, but that doesn’t mean none of this was intended. And despite intent, it doesn’t make it less valid.

The drama is thoughtful and is open to complexities, half-truths, and almosts. Cut to ANYTHING between Han Yoo-joo and Han-sung. When I say I want complex female characters, I’m talking about Han Yoo-joo—what a fucking scene-stealer. Anyways, I’m rewatching the drama since I first saw it at 15 because my life is in turmoil, and yeah, it still hits.

[skunkes]

qhenever i use watercolor theres exactly one moment where it actually does what i want it to do and then it doesnt happen again and idk how to replicate it LOL

[ambrosia-vinca]

Is this a safe place to say that I think they fumbled Illario's design in-game? He's supposed to be dashing and handsome and charming and all that and in the end he's a lot less hot than Lucanis and his outfit is ugly

[mrspeacockwasaman]

No but…seeing everyone turn on the watcher crew has been fascinating, somewhat vindicating & also kinda sad…cuz the content has been kinda lacking for a while & all the fans who just stuck around for the parasocial Shane & Ryan dynamic are leaving now cuz the masked slipped & everyone got way too overzealous lol it just seems kinda entitled to alienate your audience in such an out of touch way.

I know they backtracked but the sentiment is not gonna just go away lollll like…I’m not even above paying for exclusive content, and I think a lot of fans aren’t either, that’s why they buy tickets for the live shows & donate to patreon. It’s the complete willingness to cutoff an entire portion (if not the majority) of viewers, out of spite, that feels disrespectful.

[telesodalite]

Woe, unfinished, mildly edited, fulfire fic tid-bits be upon you

-

Like a magnet, his optics kept drifting back to Misfire's face. His stupid, strangely charming face.

For a short while, after Clemency, it had been that face that haunted some of his nightmares. His recalls blurring the lines between the strange reality of Misfire's hands reaching into him to lock his fuel pump back into the very spot he'd pulled it from, and the fear that just as easily he could pull it out again. They had been bloody dreams. Dreams that had him startling awake, gripping his chest in the vain attempt to close what wasn't open, before spending the rest of the day avoiding Misfire's optics.

But now things were different. Not Misfire's face. No, that hadn't changed much. But Fulcrum's dreams had definitely changed. To say the least of what all rolled around in his processor as he slept nowadays.

Some of those newer dreams had crept to the forefront of his mind as he sat there on the couch, staring as the lights of the screen reflected dully across Misfire's plating in hazy blues and greys.

The lighting made his colors seem muddy and faded, but Fulcrum didn't really care, nor did he care to think what it made himself look like. He was too busy bringing an empty engex can to his lips while he watched the crinkle of Misfire's nose as he barked a laugh at something Fulcrum didn't catch onscreen.

He'd started noticing it months ago, all the ways the silvery mesh of Misfire's face would scrunch up with his emotions. Those little crinkles along his optics and nose when he laughed or glared. The creases indented along his cheeks when he grinned. Fulcrum found himself quietly logging away these little details. Idle notes and observations that had suddenly started piling up in the corners of his processer.

He… He'd never really done that before? He'd never really noticed those sorts of things in other mechs.

The faces and expressions of his past colleagues never seemed terribly important. All the details of every smile and frown were never worth filing away, outside of few notable moments where those expressions reflected his work performance. But besides the smile that meant promotion, and the frown that meant he'd screwed up, nothing else was noticeable. Nothing was worth remembering.

But now the memory of every genuine laugh that bubbled out of Misfire sat comfortably besides memories of warm joyful optics that Fulcrum found himself collecting every time Crankcase cracked a rare half-smile for him, or when Krok placed a reassuring hand against his back, or the times Spinister spontaneously pointed out something odd but ultimately nice about his stupid frame.

He didn't really know why he was doing it, memorizing all these mundane little things, just to have them flit through his processer randomly. Maybe it was because those expressions, those details, felt… comforting? Comforting in such a strange and unfamiliar way. But, a good way. A good sort of strange, much like the mechs themselves.

-

-

He had stared for a long moment, the credits and their rolling tune playing somewhere in the background as Fulcrum stared back. But Misfire was never one for personable silence, even as the sound of some likely long dead Iaconian orchestra filled the room.

"What is it?" He asked, a small chuckle escaping him as he brought a hand to his face, "Don't tell me I've poured it all over myself again."

It had taken Fulcrum longer than usual to unstick his glossa from the roof of his mouth as he watched Misfire run a thumb over his lips, but eventually he had coughed out a small, choked, "No."

That had earned him an odd look at first, but with their fields loose and open, Fulcrum could almost feel the exact moment something clicked in Misfire's mind, as the idle comfortable static he projected in pulsing waves evened out into something openly curious and almost subdued.

It wasn't often Fulcrum felt him that clearly.

Misfire tended to keep his field fairly close, though, maybe not as close as the others did, what with how Crankcase kept an iron grip on his, and how Krok's always held an air of strained control, even when it slipped from him. But still, Misfire's was always hard to read, no matter the reach or depth of his field.

Even then and there, with it loose and unfiltered and buzzing with the engex running through his system, there was an ever present undertone of something indescribably jumbled about him, like too many feelings at once, each too vast and hurried for Fulcrum to really feel or understand.

It always seemed to stir the passive anxiety Fulcrum must've been forged with when Misfire's field brushed against his own. As facing the indescribable vague mess of Misfire felt like trying to untangle a pile of live-wires he couldn't even see.

It was almost frustrating in a sense, the need to try and sort and understand what wasn't even his to begin with. But at the same time it was almost exciting as well. It was like a game, like a puzzle he had yet to solve.

-

-

Finally letting his own can go tumbling to the floor to join Misfire's, Fulcrum had brought a hand to cover his face as he drew his legs up and leaned back against the arm of the couch, trying to suppress the fit as the sly look slipped from Misfire's face at the sounds.

While Fulcrum had laughed, and… snorted, embarrassingly, he had felt Misfire's field change again, brushing something fizzy and almost warm against his plating as Misfire's features softened.

"I'm looking at you," Fulcrum had said then between gulps of air, letting his hand fall from his face as he reached out to poke at Misfire's chest, "Dumbaft."

His finger had lingered over the thick plating there for maybe a little longer than necessary, drawing Misfire's attention as it slid down a little before pulling away.

Looking back up again with his helm angled slightly, Misfire had followed the sight of his hand leaving his plating to where Fulcrum let it fall between them.

"Wow…" Misfire had chuckled a little dryly, "I was gonna make it real easy for you. I was going to say something like, ''Do you like what you see?'' or-… or something like that. But now you've ruined it. Good job."

Meeting Fulcrum's optics again as he pulled his own hand back from Fulcrum's shoulder, he brought it to rest between them as well.

"And you're laughing at me," He said next, faking a small pout as his hand drifted closer to Fulcrum's, "Which totally ruins the whole vibe I was going for really. I mean, it's sort of hard to be all nice and suave-like when you're being laughed at. Total vibe killer. Bit of an ego killer too if I'm being honest. So thanks for that loser, thanks for saying I have a funny face."

With Misfire's fingers brushing distractingly past his own, Fulcrum didn't think before the words stumbled out of him.

"I like your face."

It came out almost matter of fact sounding, Fulcrum's laughter having died down while Misfire complained about it. But at the same time the words felt so simple, they came out so easily, and in a weird way they felt nice to say. But Misfire's optics had widened in surprise, his frame frozen and his field suddenly struck quiet, and despite the engex numbing his usual nerves, Fulcrum felt a sudden pang of anxiety because of it.

The silence in Misfire's field was terribly alien. It felt wrong, and something in Fulcrum spiraled to think he had caused it. But slowly, almost as if it were creeping forward, an odd almost scrutinizing uncertainty fanned outward in a careful wave. Misfire moved with it, leaning closer as he searched Fulcrum's expression for something.

"Oh yeah?" He'd said lowly then, and that sly look returned. But that vague uncertainty didn't fade with it, if anything, Fulcrum felt it strengthen. Caught between what he saw, in Misfire's easy smile and dimmed optics, and what he felt, in the growing hollow distance within their fields, Fulcrum found himself frowning and pulling back.

-

-

Growing frustrated with himself, and wanting that feeling back, he had pushed forward, shifting onto his knees as he reached for Misfire's face before the other could pull away from him entirely.

"I like your face." He said firmly, maybe too firmly. His expression still drawn into a frown as he pressed his fingers into Misfire's helm, brushing his thumbs across the silver mesh he'd been staring so intently at before. "I like your optics, and your nose. I- I like the way you smile. When you really smile, and when you laugh. I do. I'm not lying."

And oh there it was again, that little curl of warmth in Misfire's field. Almost a tangible thing, like a brush of ventilation, but Misfire wasn't venting. His mouth hung open ever so slightly, but no breath left him as he stared at Fulcrum with widening optics.

Spurred on by that tiny bloom of warmth, Fulcrum chased after it with slightly slurred words and clumsy hands as he tried to fix whatever he'd done wrong, hoping with each word that Misfire might soften and smile again.

"I like your expressions, and- and I like your voice," He said, glancing down at Misfire's parted lips, and laughing softly, nervously, as he continued, "Even when you say something so stupid. I like- I like the way it sounds. I like your accent, I like the way it makes your words sound. I- I like your- your mouth?"

Once more that weird but nice feeling settled in Fulcrum's chest. Those simple words felt good to say. It felt like a weight off his shoulders, like an admission he'd been waiting to say. About what and why? He wasn't really sure. But the warmth grew, and Misfire took a sharp vent inwards, and that felt right, so Fulcrum kept on.

"I like your helm," He said with a smile, reaching up to brush his fingers over the jutting finials there, before dropping his hands to settle lightly over Misfire's chest. "I like your frame, the colors of it. I like your-"

Before he could finish, Misfire was surging forward, knocking their helms together and nearly bruising the mesh of their noses as he tried for, and just barely missed, Fulcrum's lips.

-

👁👁👍

[bramblebeau]

with a death grip on my thighs full of compassion: everyone makes mistakes, everyone fucks up, everyone makes mistakes, everyone-

[bibleofficial]

this is so ???