#man i hate this stuff. i hate it so much you guys

[sneepity-snoop-snorpity-sneep]

this hit me really hard

because yeah, with how determined these massive companies seem to be to turn any publicly available art into their private property to throw into their AI and make tons of money because people want so badly for art and media-making to be this low-value skill.

and like...idk about you but it feels like we're stuck between not wanting to get burned by this and protect our work and yet also wanting to not surrender to this wave of pressure on artists

for me, I've started using glaze + nightshade and watermarking the hell out of some of my stuff where it's posted (ESPECIALLY on sites that I know are feeding everything posted there to AI). Like watermarks that are designed to be visual noise and obnoxious over the whole piece but you can still see what's going on

I don't think this is a guarantee that it'll keep your stuff completely out of AI, but I'm afraid that the only way to actually manage that would be to just...never show your work in any venue ever. which is not why I learned to actually get whats in my imagination out on paper or a digital canvas

PLUS, plus!! I recall seeing someone in the notes mentioning that glaze is looking into versions that can be used on video, which makes sense and I HOPE that this is true and it's released soon!! (up til now for my animations I've been using glaze and nightshade on my watermarks and importing them in over my animations)

but for the meantime, obnoxious watermarks will at least deter people from uploading AND being able to use art in an AI dataset

Hey all, just an update:

I will attempt to keep my words brief, so please bear with me.

the film is done, the sound is basically all there. Just some final professional mixing to do.

I'm not sure how I feel about releasing the film or any more personal artwork. it has become crystal clear how much artists are despised at large by a society that wants what artist's can create but is offended at the idea of an artist making a descent living off of their craft.

I'm not sure at this point that publishing any more personal artwork is doing anything more than training pattern learning AI models for company owners and business centric suits.

Still undecided what to do with the film since it did take roughly 10 years to make, but It is also only important to me and it will realistically not leave a lasting impression, so it really has already served its purpose.

Will update when I've made up my mind about the film, I just thought you all deserved an explanation as to why the film is still unreleased.

Thanks for supporting me for so long. Really appreciated it all.

[writing-mlm]

Hi, may I request a Tim Drake x male!reader story ? The reader is androgynous, has a rock/punk style, is a Japanese exorcist who dislikes heroes, and has an impulsive, shameless, and slightly paranoid personality. A fluff piece, please. Sorry for asking a lot, take care of yourself !

Stay for dinner-breakfast

Summary: Tim’s in a situationship with someone who hates heroes, this is just great. Pairing: Tim Drake x Male!Reader Wc: 3.8k tags/warnings: Japanese reader, way too many Blue Exorcist references, small demon fight

When most people familiar enough with demons or even the Justice League mention needing an exorcist, minds immediately go to the infamous John Constantine. The guy who managed to trick God and Satan, making himself nearly immortal. The guy who, admittedly, could probably control most demons with the flick of his cigarette.

Tim’s mind, however, wanders to a guy he met during his time abroad. When he had to do some Red Robin stuff that took him to Japan. He reminisces about it as if it was decades ago, in reality, it was two years ago. Hardly even two years, if he’s being honest. But he rarely is. 

While Bruce and Dick argue about whether or not they should call up John (the last time they did, Constantine ended up summoning more demons to deal with the initial demons and then blew up a building to get rid of the extra demons) (it cost Wayne Enterprises too much to justify asking that man for help again) Tim fishes out his phone. It doesn’t take him long to find the contact; it’s been what… a week since you’ve last spoken. He’s texted exactly three people within that week; Kon, Bart, and Jason. Jason because he wanted to know if he could join a drug bust he knew Jason had coming up. 

The answer was no. 

The phone rings as he spins in the chair, waiting until he hears that it’s connecting. Seriously, it’s already been three whole rings, what’s the hold-up?

“Whaddya want, hero boy?” You ask without looking down at the phone. Probably because you’re jumping from the ledge of a roof to a lamppost and then to the top of a vending machine. 

“You busy?” He asks, looking at the mole underneath your jaw. He hadn’t known that. Your head tilts from side to side as you make a noise. 

“I’ll have to check my calendar,” Glancing down at the phone, you wink and then pocket the phone. 

“There’s a demon in Gotham, could use the help.” He says, barely able to see as you’re fighting a demon. His eyes glance up at the contact name Okumura, unassuming to most because it is someone’s last name but to Tim, it’s so much more. 

He thought it was absolutely hilarious that you were an exorcist from Japan, raised by a priest, with a twin brother, and had the same hobbies as the anime where the main character is an exorcist from Japan, raised by a priest, with a twin brother. You didn’t think it was nearly as funny. The first time he mentioned it you kicked him from a rooftop— it was three stories, he was fine. 

“Like now?” You ask, picking your sword— just like the anime character, he’d gladly remind you— and cutting the demon in half with a mumbled but strong prayer. 

“Yes,” He nods, looking at the live feed of a demon messing up the finance district of Gotham. 

“Fine,” You grumble. “You’re lucky I finished my work for the day. See you in a minute.” 

“Kay, bye!” He hangs up and removes an earbud, calling for Bruce and Dick who haven’t stopped arguing. He wonders how they’d get anything done without him. They stop and look towards him as he waves his phone. “I have someone coming in for the demons.” He announces and Dick just hopes it’s not one of his friends from his YJ time. He cannot deal with those kids after finding out they watched Santa Claus get killed by a sentient meteor and then spent the next five months delivering gifts. 

“It isn’t Constantine, right?” Bruce asks, arms crossed and a disapproving glare ready to be plastered on his face. 

“That white man has nothing on me,” You chuckle, entering the Batcave through the door, spinning a set of skeleton keys on your index finger before putting them back into your pocket. Pointedly, Tim looks off to the wall with a see, anime guy look before turning back to the task at hand. 

“Who…?” Dick slowly asks while Bruce is having second thoughts about letting Tim back into the cave ever again.

“That’s Okumura,” He responds, standing up from the chair to greet you.

You’re wearing a pair of jorts— but the good kind, not the weird-looking ones— with hand-bleach-painted crosses on the leg, chunky beige leg warmers over a pair of shiny black loafers and an extremely large sweater that falls off your shoulder as you run down the stairs overtop a black turtleneck. 

There’s a pair of red shades on the top of your head, they curve at the top in a way that makes it look as though you have horns. Tim decides to not comment on the obvious joke he could make. But you can tell he wants to make it because of the glint in his eyes.

“Hello!” You nod without looking at them, too focused on not tripping over the steps, and give the group a small two-finger wave. “Tim calls me Okumura, it is not my name, though.” The hand that was doing the wave meets his hand and you do a funky little handshake before you look over at them for the first time. You frown, looking at their suits. It’s not even a frown, it’s damn near a scowl. You look at Tim who just shrugs; he would’ve thought you knew he was with his hero family.

“I’ll head out the demon; tell them not to follow me,” You tell Tim and he nods, sending you the location of the fight. While he does that, you look around for a different exit when you see his motorcycle parked, ready to go. “I’m stealing your motorbike again!” You call as you’re rushing over to it. 

“Kay!” He replies, head still buried in his phone. The motorcycle reeves to life as you jump on it; Bruce nearly stops you but the door to the cave is opening and you’re off faster than he can move. Slowly, he turns towards Tim with his arms crossed and a lecture waiting to happen.

“You better have a good explanation for that,” Bruce says once the door closes again. 

“That’s my exorcist friend,” He explains with a shrug. 

“You have friends outside of Kon?” Jason asks, a teasing tone to his voice but Tim can tell it genuinely surprised Dick. He doesn’t know if he should be hurt by that. 

“Yeah,” He shrugs. 

“And he’s an exorcist?” Bruce asks, looking at where the motorcycle once sat. He really hopes you don’t break it.

“Yup.”

“How did he get here so fast?” Dick asks, a little worried Tim was hiding a person in the manor.

“Funny story,” Tim smiles, looking up at them before looking down again, leaving them hanging. Jason grumbles, air strangling him while Bruce just sighs and looks back to the live feed. Thankfully you’d already arrived at the scene and to Tim and your credit, you’re dealing with the demons fairly easily. It’s surprising that your face is hidden from the public’s view, he hadn’t seen a mask but he also hadn’t seen the giant sword so. Probably some magic he won’t care about but probably should learn.

“Let’s go, fifteen Joker goons spotted around the site.” In a fluid motion, Tim puts his mask on and follows Bruce into the Batmobile. 

When Tim gets out of the car, he immediately finds you. You’re on top of a demon, riding it in the air while laughing and stabbing a nearby demon. He stops for a moment, wondering how you managed to wrangle a demon enough to sit on its back as if it were a horse. He then sees the knife in its head and he understands. He’s nearly jealous of the sight. 

Tim finally joins the others in the fight, narrowly avoiding the demons spawning from someplace he hasn’t found out yet. But you have, because you kill the flying horse demon and land softly behind Tim, cutting a demon away before it can sneak up on him. He shouts a thank you, pushing two goons back with his staff.

“I said no heroes!” You shout as you’re running past, heading towards a glowing manhole. How he hadn’t noticed it before; he won’t ever know. 

“Did he say no heroes?” Dick grunts, pushing back two goons that tried to jump him. 

“Yeah, he got issues with them.” Tim laughed before he was punched in the stomach by the goon he’d been fighting. He grumbles, holding the spot for a second before he knocks the goon out. “How many more are left?” He asks.

“Four,” Bruce says as he knocks out one of them. “Three.”

He goes to reply when there’s a loud explosion from the manhole and he looks over. Blue smoke rises out from the holes and he abandons trying to help the others fight the remaining goons in favor of finding you in the chaos. He doesn’t know what the smoke is but he assumes it’s some type of Joker Gas and he knows you’re not used to that. 

Putting a respirator on his face, he moves the manhole cover and jumps down. He squints into the blue fog, listening for noises but there’s a lot. There are hundreds of insect demons scurrying around him, hissing from the pipes, and he stops to really listen. He hears a string of coughs and follows it, the smoke getting thicker but he sees the faint outline of you lying on your back. 

“You don’ need a mask,” You huff, waving your hand in an attempt to move the smoke. “It is not poison.” 

“What is it?” He asks, removing the respirator as the smoke starts to clear, escaping up to the manhole. Your figure gets clearer, he can see your shirt and your hands resting on your stomach. 

“Spell,” You respond. “A… boobtrap for the talisman.”

“Boobytrap.” He corrects, putting the small device back into his pocket.

“That is what I said.” You blink, sitting up. He doesn’t fight you on that and helps you to your feet before he stops, hand still in yours. Now that you’re up close, he can really see you and when his eyes trail down, he inhales sharply and looks away.

“You’re not gonna believe this,” He says, covering his mouth with his free hand. 

“What? Did I get ugly? Do I look like you?” You ask, genuinely concerned as you pat your face but calm down when you feel your features. 

“Worse,” He grins and reaches around to grab your newly formed tail. “You really are Okumura now!” You shout, tugging at the tail only to wince because it’s connected to you. It only makes him laugh harder and you shout again, shaking him.

“This is not funny!” You tell him and then pause. “Thhhis,” You repeat and then cover your mouth. His eyebrows raise and, to his credit, he stops laughing. At least until you remove your hand and open your mouth, showing off the newly formed sharp canines. He barks a laugh and then pushes your hair away from your ear and you watch in horror as he spins on his heel to hide his expression. 

“You two okay down there?” Dick shouts from the top of the manhole.

“Fine!” Tim replies through his laugh. 

“That was one voice!”

“Fine!” You reply, even though you’re freaking out as your fingers trace over the suddenly sharp ears on your head. 

“I'm cursed!” You cry, dropping your head onto Tim’s shoulder, your ear nearly poking him in the eye. “This is your fault.” Pushing him away, you pick up your sword from the floor and resheath it with ease. “Never trust a hero,” You grunt, rushing over to the manhole.

“My fault?” He echos, following you out of the manhole. 

“You called me into your freaky city!” Climbing to the top of the manhole, you sit and kick his face. Not too hard, though. He shouts, holding his nose with one hand and the railing with the other. Standing up, you redo your hair over your ears and try to stuff the tail into your pants but it swings wildly and then wraps around something that’s behind you. 

When you look at what it was holding, you find it’s wrapped around Tim’s hand, helping him out of the manhole. 

“I think it likes you,” You grin despite yourself. 

“So, you like the tail?” He asks, checking his nose through the reflective metal of his staff. Thankfully his nose wasn’t broken, but it was throbbing in pain. Red on the end and he’s rubbing it with his free hand. You shrug, crossing your arms. 

“If it holds you like that,” Winking, he rolls his eyes under the mask and looks over at his family. Your eyes follow and you check your phone; there are no texts from anyone but you pretend that there are. 

“Wow, glad we settled that then.” He hums, smiling at you. 

“Mhmm, well, bye!” 

“Wait—“ He grabs the tail as you’re walking away and you grunt, eyes wide as you turn to look at him. Your eyes dart to and from the tail, watching as his fingers absentmindedly play with the soft furs on the end. “Stay for dinner, you did say I owed you.” When you first met, you’d gotten a glorious dinner and he ran into you, spilling it right into a sewer drain. You still think about that day and get upset. 

“Is it…��� You cringe as you can’t find the right word. “American food?” He chuckles, remembering the countless videos you’ve sent him with angry and crying emojis. Hotdogs in jello, white bread soaked in water, mashed potatoes made out of potato chips, and boiled plain, unseasoned chicken with unwashed white rice.

“It’s not the American food you sent me.” He promises. “It’s good, I like it.” Your face scrunches as that’s not much to go off of; the man drinks Monster Energy’s like it's water. You’re sure it’s melted off his taste buds at this point.

“But you also like the vending machine cakes.” 

“It was good.” He defends. “But this is really good, trust me?”

“I wasn’t invited by B,” You glance over at the scowling Batman and glare back. Tim grabs your face, turning you to look back at him. You smile at him in a way that makes his stomach flutter and he clears his throat, dropping his hand. 

“Ugh! B, can he stay for dinner?” He asks, pressing his finger against his earpiece. 

“No.”

“He said yes,” He smiles and you struggle to still say no to him.

“I have to speak to the council about this—“ You gesture to your newly formed tail and ears. “Raincheck.”

Tim sighs but relents. 

“We’ll make your favorite next time; as a thank you.” He promises and you nod, waving before jogging up to a random door. The team watches as you pull out the keys and open the door, showing the headquarters of the council you work for. You wave again, your tail waving along before the door closes. 

“Better than Constantine,” Jason says as he looks at the ash on the ground. 

—

“That skirt does not go with that shirt,” Damian stops at Tim’s door, blinking at the oak door as Tim laughs. “I regret buying you VIP and custom makeup,” Now, Damian’s no idiot. He has friends and Jon, much to his chagrin, has gotten him into Roblox. So he knows very well that Tim is talking about Dress to Impress. 

“What? It looks cute!” Another voice defends, a voice that isn’t one he’s familiar with. He’d assumed Tim was talking to Kon, maybe Bart, or even himself. “You’re the one wearing a neon green fur hat when the theme is Victorian!” Carefully, he grabs onto the brass doorknob, pressing his other hand to the door and slowly turns it. 

“It’s camp,” Tim replies. He’s sitting on his bed with his legs crossed and laptop perched between them. Regrettably, he’s in an old band t-shirt and sweats; not company attire Damian would later remark. Across from him, sitting with their back to the door, Damian stares at the dangling sword earrings and then the tattered Eastern Youth shirt overtop a pair of leather pants. But his focus is on the tail swishing back and forth. 

“It’s ugly, just like your face,” You remark. Tim smiles, still looking down at his laptop, and moves his leg to kick you. You grab his ankle before he can and extend his leg, tossing your own over it. He shifts so both his legs are out and you naturally sit with your legs intertwined. 

Damian turns his nose up and leaves the room, the door softly locking behind him. 

“Pretty sure you weren’t saying that earlier,” Tim chides after the door had closed, watching as Damian’s footsteps leave from his door. 

“I did,” You hum, showing how you’d gotten first place and he’d gotten dead last. He rolls his eyes, leaves the game, and turns off your iPad. Next time he’ll just rig the game, clearly, the lobby didn’t understand his vision. 

“You should stay for dinner,” Your face contorts at the idea and you scoot closer to him until your ankles reach his back and his knees are at your ribs. “They’re not bad, not right now, at least.” He adds, messing with your studded belt. 

“I don’t like heroes, Tim,” You remind him. He frowns, eyes meeting your own. “And Bruce definitely will not welcome me after the curse,” Right, the whole demon curse. His eyes move to your tail that’s now wrapping around his left leg, the soft hairs brushing against his calf. While you’re not wrong, Bruce would have a heart attack if Tim was caught letting a demon (it's temporary, the council assured you) inside his house. 

“Fuck what Bruce has to say; I have my place! I run the company now, too,” He shrugs. 

“So why are we at the manor?” You tilt your head and he shrugs again. 

“Alfred offered to make my favorite for dinner because I haven’t visited since the whole demon thing.” You tut, leaning forward so your head rests on his chest. He looks at your awkwardly folded pose and pushes your legs. Getting the hint, you lift yourself and fold your legs underneath you. He lays his head on top of yours, using his phone behind your back. 

The two of you sit in silence until your legs go numb and you turn around, now watching as he scrolls through his socials. He shifts so one arm holds you close and locks his legs over yours while you hold his hand. 

Now, despite how it may look, you and Tim were not in a relationship. Nearly, you’ll both admit that much. But nothing that ever surpassed longing glances and touching that lasted far too long for the two of you to simply be friends. 

And that was for one simple reason.

Tim was a hero. 

You don’t hate heroes, simply a strong dislike towards them. For a multitude of reasons, enough for a twenty-page paper. Tim would know, he had you make one when you first rejected him. You don’t really trust them, all of them except for Tim. And maybe his strange friend Kon, but that’s about it. All of the rest can leave you the hell alone. 

Your phone buzzes and you spare it a glance; a call from your superior. 

“I gotta go,” You tell him but make no move to leave. He just hums, still scrolling on his phone. “There’s probably an attack and I’m needed.”

“That’s crazy,” He mutters, showing you a video of a cat lying down in an empty fishbowl. 

“And Alfred will probably come up soon,” The time is around when dinner is usually ready.

“Probably,” He agrees. Your phone starts ringing again and you stare at it. 

“I really should be going,” 

“You really shouldn’t.” He drops his phone to hold you with both arms.

“I’ll get in trouble,” You look up at him and he just blinks. “They’ll take my keys away.” He relents and lets you stand but you don’t move. He raises an eyebrow and you smile before flicking him with your tail and getting up. 

He spluttered at the hairs, wiping his mouth as you shoved your feet into your boots. 

“See you,” You wave before opening his bedroom door to your boss's room. He sees the woman sitting on the edge of her desk, dangling her phone. She sees him and you quickly shut the door. 

Flopping onto his back, Tim runs his hands down his face and stares at the ceiling. He rolls over and looks down at your iPad, deciding he’ll just keep it until you notice it’s gone.

—

“Still have an issue with me being a hero?” Tim asks as you’re cooking in his apartment. You’re making breakfast for dinner, considering he’d come back at three in the morning and you’d skipped breakfast in favor of dealing with some demons terrorizing school.

“Yes, Tim.” You reply, setting a third pancake onto the plate. He leans against your back, staring at the side of your face while making sure to be careful of your sharp ear. Your tail pulls him closer and he snickers. “The tail has nothing to do with me,” You grumble, side-glancing at him. 

“Even if I say pretty please?” He bats his long eyelashes, making sure that they tickle your face. 

“You’re making a very convincing argument,” You laugh, pushing his face away. With a small snicker, he pulls his face and adjusts his grip on you. Tim sighs into your shoulder and then steals a piece of bacon, narrowly avoiding the slap from the spatula.

“Can I just be the one hero you like?” He hops onto the counter, watching as you continue to cook. 

“You already are,” You watch from the corner of your eye as he flicks his hair out of his face, studying you. He watches you for another minute or two, offering up forks when it’s time to plate the food. He’s clearly thinking as he pours the cups of juice, smiling while he jumps back on the counter before he eventually speaks up. 

“Can I take you on a date, then?” He asks, eyes flickering from the last pancake to your face. Pausing mid-flip, you shrug. Taking a moment to think about it, Tim watches as your tail slowly moves side to side before it settles on the back of the couch.

“It would be faster if you just kissed me, if I’m being honest.” You chuckle and his eyebrows raise. 

“You’re telling me all of this could’ve been avoided with… a kiss?” He slowly asks and you nod, turning the fire off and then moving to be in front of him. He reaches for you, his fingers curling under your jaw as you stare up at him. Opening his legs, you sit between them and mess with the hair around his face. 

“I just wanted to see some initiative,” You hum and he rolls his eyes before crashing his lips into yours.

[realestsmiggles]

Sigh.. Another TCC related rant 🙏 a lot shorter but just some quick stuff I wanted to talk about

(Really just about the people on the app and in the community)

Making friends who are also tcc is so hard it's either cornballs, edgelords, or the most senstive people on earth. Like one how are you gonna be THIS sensitive about such little things when you're on the worse part of the internet. Or people who will be rude asf and then get mad cause someone's mean to them, like man up and grow a pair. How can you be surprised that there's bad people in a community based around mass killers and shooters? It just never makes sense.

But edgelords actually URK me to my core, like I'm so sorry but your ass is NOT Eric... I know I talk about columposers a ton but they just make me super mad. We don't need anymore school shootings, it's not a competition and you're just making a fool out of yourself. I think Columbine and couple other shootings were all we needed and to get past but there's just more and more each year. Its always by some edgelord found their dads gun and just so happens to know what Columbine is. And like I've said before their manifestos are all the same some fuckin "They're all gonna feel my wrath 👿"

No they aren't... you're gonna end up injuring two people and then just shooting yourself, shut up. Sometimes the shootings aren't just Columbine based and some are caused by serious illness but I feel like we should get those checked out before anything. Like if your child is clearly showing signs that somethings wrong then I don't know, maybe talk to them? Take them to a doctor? Call someone? Many shootings could be avoided this way or just simply putting metal detectors inside schools that face a lot of threat. Now I know that me just saying this won't do anything for the world and this is just me ranting.

On the same topics of edgelords I also hate two specific people, first one is the like cannibal97 guy or whatever his name is. The guy whose convinced he's Eric and people in his anon sections who are like "ohemgee you make me wet >_<" WHAT. Excuse me.

And he's always flirting with them, if someone (an anon may I add) starts flirting with you and you are 17 and older then don't respond. Because you might be talking to a minor or someone much younger than you, because I know a lot of people are 13-14 and it's weird if they're talking to a 17-19 year old. Then there's the argument of "Well the younger person sent it and/or it was anonymous,". Yes but you (a 17-19 year old AKA a grown adult with basic thinking skills) shouldn't reply because it was probably anonymous for a reason, maybe because they didn't want you to know their age.

The second person is the Dylann roof fan who's user is 88aryan-2 and she's a white girl and says the n word and just seems like a rude person in general. Like you are not Dylann's top gal buddy 🙏. He's not gonna be released from prision and shown your rainbow dash tumblr account and suddenly say "Wow!! She's just like me fr! Maybe I should talk to her!" This is not a drama show, this is Tumblr out of all places.

Now I don't mind Dylann roof fans because most of them talk about the fact that he's a bad person which is good but when you're just acting like him it's just kind of cringe. I feel weird when someone on here says the n-word because you can never fact check if they're actually black (this is coming from a white guy, I don't have much room to talk)

In general I just don't like a lot of people on here or in this community because most are rude or just bad people or just straight up hard to talk to and be around. Of course there's awesome and kind people on this app and I love talking to people who are like actually nice people and understand where I'm coming from. But it's always the people who only think racism and Columbine are the only funny things. I know I'm kind of a boring person but some of these people actually have the personalities of dried Mac n cheese. Please get an orginal or just better personality, find a cool game or a fun hobbie or better friends, maybe just find friends in general.

[rockybloo]

I feel like bitchin so I'mma bitch bc I always see people going on rants on their Tumblrs and I'm long overdue for one. Anyways, this is a long one so be aware you are gonna be scrolling for a good bit if you view under the cut.

ANYWAYS, I know that that rude anon from last week is old news but their whole "I'm sad that Glitter and Guilt is a m/f relationship" thing is just a part of a never ending situation I am going to experience til the end of time (or til I stop posting stuff online) just because I focus on primarily m/f relationships in my art.

And they aren't even straight m/f relationships, which is what annoys me the most about comments like this. They're all bisexual. But because people see bisexual characters as better than straight but less than same-sex attracted orientation, I will always have to deal with these passive aggressive ass comments.

I dealt with this typa stuff SO OFTEN in my early days on Instagram, especially when I posted some of my gender nonconforming OCs like Danny (my pink demon man who dresses like a bimbo Barbie doll). It got to the point I stopped sharing him over there for a bit because I would get comments where people were hoping he had a boyfriend in the past, or they were disappointed I "never" drew any Sapphic couples because they mistook Danny as a woman in a pic where he was kissing Karrie.

And I get the whole desire to want more representation. Trust me, I'm bi, black, and nonbinary. I am NEVER going to get any type of representation outside of the indie artists I find in small niche circles online. I completely get the whole "m/f relationships are EVERYWHERE in mainstream media" mentality because I also agree but only to a point.

There's a ton of trashy m/f media, but there's also good shit when you dig because you can find people who don't just shove a guy and girl together and call that a done deal - they actually give them personality and chemistry and a fun dynamic.

I'm a firm believer that the gender of a ship shouldn't dictate if it's good or not. An interesting dynamic is what motivates me to care about a couple of characters dating. That's why it bugs me whenever someone suggests any kind of series to me and simply tells me "It's gay" before telling me the actual plotline. I WANT TO KNOW WHAT A SERIES IS ABOUT! DO NOT WASTE MY TIME!!! (Please do not pop into my inbox after reading this and suggest me stuff btw because I've never been a big suggestions unprompted person - I typically find stuff myself bc I have weird tastes ANYWAYS BACK TO MY RANTING)

When it comes to my art, I draw m/f relationships as a primary focus because it's fun to mess with gender dynamics and flip them on their head, as well as to give younger me the food I wish I had. Growing up, before I realized I was nonbinary, I rarely saw any black girls in loving relationships in animated series I enjoyed. And occasionally I would get flash banged with the long despised trope of "Disposable Black Girlfriend". So I never felt like m/f relationships were oversaturated in my eyes because there were barely any good ones that featured a black girl with a happy ending - which means from DAY MOTHERFUCKIN ONE I was starving for content.

So that obviously means that when I grew up and adopted my "Make your own food" mentality, I started cooking. AND COOK I STILL DO! Because in the end, I make all this food to please myself. OTHERS MAY EAT OF COURSE - I am always happy when people come to my restaurant to dine because they enjoy my meals, but I hate how every blue moon I will get someone who waltzes into my little eatery and tells me that they wish I cooked the meal they get from other restaurants.

Because it would be so much more productive to just go eat AT those restaurants since they already got the food you like.

Having people comment their displeasure about me drawing a guy and a girl together in a healthy (and occasionally insane) relationship is always baffling to me. It's never going to make me stop, it'll only make me draw more Red Beans or more Licorice. It's also so baffling because I know that if the tables where flipped - and I was drawing primarily same-sex bisexual couples (OR JUST SOME GAY OR LESBIAN COUPLES IN GENERAL BECAUSE SOME PEOPLE JUST DON'T CARE ABOUT BI FOLKS AT ALL), it would be so fuckin' frowned upon to comment "I wish you drew more m/f! 🥺"

But because I draw m/f bi couples, it's totally free game. IT'S DEF STILL FROWNED UPON but one is way more likely to make you look like an asshole than the other. Because even in cases where people have said they agree it's a dick move to complain about m/f from me, there's still that vibe of it being more acceptable just because of mainstream media having so many m/f couples and that being the standard of offline society.

But I'm not mainstream media. And I disagree with a lot of standards of offline society which is WHY I poke fun at gender norms with my OCs.

That's why getting a ton of new followers is such a "oh boy here we go" thing for me, because with old followers that have been around for awhile, they know what's up. They understand what I draw, what I write, and how my OCs typically behave. They get that my m/f ships have rabies.

But new followers don't know this. And this has led to some real big "OOF" moments. Like people calling Jack and Nana a "het" couple. Yes, I know that that's a term that doesn't JUST mean "heterosexual" and can refer to them being different genders. It still feels hella weird for me - it's why m/f is my preferred descriptor because it lacks that confusion.

New followers are typically the ones that leave the passive aggressive comments about me mostly drawing m/f. OFTEN because they think I am one of those artists who will draw whatever it takes to please my audience. BUT I AM NOT - THERE IS NO AUDIENCE INFLUENCE HERE ☝🏾

I am not a taxi where I pick people up whenever they call me and I drop them off wherever they tell me.

I am a roller-coaster. Specifically those ones where you can see the entire track layout in the distance so you know what you're in for. You may sit in the front or the back or somewhere in the middle but that is the last input you got before I take off at my own speed (that will be stated RIGHT on the warning sign you read as you walked in) and once I am done, you may get off and carry along your merry way through the rest of the park OR you may get on to ride again.

This entire passive aggression towards m/f ships is just so tiring to deal with because there will never be an end to it. Even after I post this, I know days, weeks, months, YEARS down the line - someone will see some Jack and Nana art, or some Bitterbat and Sweetheart comic, or ANY of my other m/f couples, and type up some comment about how they wish the couples were same-sex. Or someone will lament over the fact they thought a couple was same-sex but it turned out the dude was just hella feminine.

Because it just ain't enough to have bisexual characters that are dating the same sex because then people will call them "straight passing" and not count them as being queer. And having all my OCs being bisexuals ain't enough to mark me as a queer artists in some eyes because "making all your OCs bi is just lazy" and not me representing an aspect of myself that I constantly see sidelined online.

Me drawing bisexual m/f couples is viewed as something that can be tinkered and tampered with so I can be more appealing and inclusive to others like I'm some mainstream Hollywood series and not just some random person online who draw the fictional beings in my mind kissing each other whenever I got the crumb of free time. Primarily drawing m/f couples means I gotta just vibe whenever I see a moot or a friend post or reblog some weird sentiment referring to how lame m/f couples are and I just gotta HOPE that they aren't including bisexuals when they engage with stuff like that.

I'm in this weird space where I am wedged between "You're not a straight artist" and "You aren't drawing enough gay stuff" online.

And I'm fine with this since I've been online for over a decade at this point. This isn't a vent post, this is a rant. I don't need cheering up or comfort after posting this. This is just some real talk because I typically post lighthearted stuff since I like to keep my blogs positive.

But I also like to keep my shit honest and I think it's important to just state a piece of my mind. I wouldn't say I'm being vulnerable, this is just some insight to why I draw what I do and why I get so annoyed by certain interactions with people and certain sentiments online that are antagonistic of m/f ships that put them all down without hearing them out.

Blah blah blah I'm tired of typing and I've said most of the main points I've needed uuuummm

If you read this long have some m/f fluff

[sissylittlefeather]

If You Talk In Your Sleep

Chapter 3

A/N: As soon as I warned you that I wouldn't be writing anymore, I turned around and wrote a chapter 😂. I won't be churning stuff out like I used to, but I am going to try to write when I can, for my own sanity. ICYMI, this is the one with Elvis set in Vegas in 1969 and you're a Casino Boss's wife. I hope you enjoy it!

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, kissing, oral sex (m receiving), p in v sex, reader calls Elvis "daddy", he spanks her a couple times, and they drink alcohol

Word count: ~3.5k

“It is morning.” His eyes pop open and you look at each other in terror.

“Oh fuck.”

******

You leap out of bed as quickly as possible and jump in the shower. You've never washed so fast in your life, but you know if you go home smelling like Elvis it'll definitely be the end of both of you. You dry off quickly and put your clothes back on, running through the suite like a chicken with your head cut off. Elvis tries to help you as much as he can, but both of you have a sinking, sick feeling in your stomach that you don't think has anything to do with the champagne from last night. As soon as you're dressed, he calls one of his men to take you home and you stand there awkwardly as you wait for him.

“Elvis, I'm sorry–”

“It's okay, honey. I understand.” You look up at him with your eyes shiny and full of fear and something else entirely. Coming home in the daylight might be the last thing you ever do. And seeing Elvis again puts his life at risk too. You're not willing to do that, so you know this goodbye has to be long term at the very least, if not permanent. He leans in to kiss you softly just as a tall young man with shaggy brown hair busts through the door.

“Where's the fire, boss?” He asks, panting. It's clear Elvis woke him up and had him rush to get here.

“This little girl needs a ride to the Flamingo, as fast as possible.” Elvis turns to you. “Honey, this is Jerry. You can trust him. He'll take you home.”

You look up at Jerry and nod. His face is kind and soft and you see why Elvis trusts him. You turn back to Elvis.

“Elvis, I–”

“I know.” He cuts you off and kisses you one last time before hurrying you out the door with Jerry. As soon as you're gone, he drops onto the sofa and holds his head in both hands. He hates to admit it, but he's scared. Scared for you and scared for himself. His eyes fixate on the carpet as images of what might happen float up and he tries to block them out. He walks to the phone in his suite and dials the number of one of his bodyguards.

“Red, get everyone together. We need to talk.”

******

In the car, you try not to fidget too much as you ride in silence. You twist your ring around on your finger and sigh deeply.

“You alright?” Jerry asks, his voice quiet.

“Not really. I'm not sure what I'm going home to.” You're not sure why you're telling him this, but Elvis did say you could trust him.

“He wouldn't let anything happen to you. Not if he can help it.” You look up at him and he smiles sweetly.

“You don't know my husband.”

“No, but I know Elvis. It's been a while since he had the same girl come over twice and even longer since one stayed the night. I have orders to stay and make sure you're okay.” You shake your head frantically.

“That's really not necessary.”

“Maybe not. But I'm gonna do it anyway. If you need to get away, I'll be in the casino for a few hours.” You think to yourself that it sounds like a good way to get yourself beaten to a pulp, but he won't defy his boss’s orders for anything.

“Thank you.” He lets you get out a block away and then parks and heads into the casino. You make your way up to your suite, holding your head high and praying you don't run into any of the guys. At the door, you take a deep breath and then open it. It's unlocked.

“Where the fuck you been?” Carl is sitting on the couch waiting for you, but you've been working on this lie all morning.

“Out. I ran into Holly last night at the Tropicana and we drank way too much. Ended up crashing in a room there.” Carl stands and walks over to you and you thank God that you had the wherewithal to shower before you left.

“If I call Holly right now, she'll tell me the same story?” You stomach flip-flops. Holly is a girl you used to know back when you were a dancer. She knows Carl and was a pretty good friend, so you think there's a chance she might roll with it if you have to call her. You look him in the eye and lie boldly.

“Yeah, of course.” For a second, he just looks at you, trying to decide how much he really cares. But your lie must be convincing because he nods slowly. You breathe deeply, thinking you're in the clear, but he grabs your face in his meaty hand and squeezes.

“If I ever find out you're fucking lying, you will not enjoy what I do to you.”

“I'm not.” You spit it at him, but the effect is diminished by your cheeks being smushed. He lets you go aggressively and you rub your chin.

“I'm going out. I won't be home before work.” You nod and he heads out of the suite. As soon as he's gone, you sink to the floor and cry, your body wracked with sobs now that the adrenaline has worn off. You want to let Elvis know that you're in the clear, but you can't. Carl will have eyes on you for the next few days, so you'll have to stay home. That's a price you're willing to pay to keep Elvis alive, though, and you sigh deeply, relieved that Carl has bought your lie. For now.

******

You lay low and stay in your suite for the next few days, knowing if you go anywhere you'll be followed. So instead, you wait. Finally, almost a week later, you get bored and decide to go shopping. You assume it's safe now, since Carl hasn't said another word about you coming home that one morning. Still, when you walk through the casino downstairs, you can't shake the feeling that you're being watched and followed.

You try to ignore it and go about your business, wandering through stores and holding up articles of clothing to your body. If you are being followed, they won't see anything exciting. As you walk through one particular store, though, the feeling of being watched gets worse. You start to look around suspiciously for one of Carl’s guys, but you don't see anyone you recognize. Just as you're about to give up and go home, you turn and run smack into Jerry, gasping.

“Oh my god. You scared me.” You clutch your chest and try to calm your breathing.

“Sorry. Elvis wanted me to give you this.” He presses a shopping bag into your hand.

“Wait. How did you know I was here?” He turns a little pink and fidgets with his fingers.

“We've been in the casino all week waiting for you to come down with orders to follow you if you did. And give you that. So, just, look at it okay? I'll tell Elvis you got it.” You nod and he turns to walk away from you.

“Jerry, wait!” He looks around and turns back.

“Hmm?”

“How is he?” You ask quietly. Being without him is about to kill you and you miss him so much it hurts.

“He misses you. Just, look in the bag and do as he asks. He's so worried about you. None of us have slept much.” He's almost pleading with you, so you nod slowly and he gives you a half smile before turning and walking out of the store.

You run to the checkout counter to pay for what you want and then rush home, the bag that Jerry gave you tucked into your other shopping bag. You have no idea what's in it, so you want to hide it in case you get caught. When you get back to your suite, Carl has left for work, so you have the place to yourself. You quickly pull out the bag and dump the contents onto your bed.

Inside the bag is a dress, some jewelry, a masquerade mask, and a card. You open the card first.

Hey honey,

I miss you. Put this on and meet me at the Palomino Club at midnight.

Love,

Elvis

You try not to smile too much at his handwriting and the way he signed the note. Then, you look down at the contents of the bag. The mask makes sense now that you know where he's asking you to go. The Palomino Club is brand new in Vegas, a strip joint, where no one respectable goes. It's so seedy that most of the patrons wear these masks to keep their identity secret. You're not sure why he's asking you to meet him there, but you suspect it has something to do with the newness and perceived anonymity. Unless they follow you, Carl's men would never think to look for you there.

Upon further inspection, you realize that the mask is beautiful. It's peacock-feathers on a purple background and it'll cover most of your face when you put it on. The dress is deep turquoise, backless and silky, and matches the mask perfectly. You glance at your watch, realize it's almost 10pm, and start getting ready.

******

At 12:07, Elvis sits at a table in the Palomino Club and anxiously fiddles with a glass of whiskey that he's not drinking. He ordered it just to have something to do with his hands.

“Jer, she said she was comin’ right?” Jerry shrugs and nods. You didn't say one way or the other, but he's reluctant to tell his boss no. “Then where the hell is she?”

He adjusts his mask. It's gold and matches his belt that he's wearing over a deep purple crushed velvet suit. It's over the top and the belt probably gives away who he is, but it doesn't seem like anyone is paying any attention. Everyone in the club is too focused on the barely-clad dancers on the stage. The girls have come up to him a couple of times and offered dances, but he declines. He's tempted to say yes once, but he thinks of how it would look for you to come in while he's getting a lapdance from another woman, especially one as naked as the girls in this club. Honestly, he can't look directly at them without blushing anyway. He takes a sip of the whiskey and grimaces.

“Isn't that her?” Jerry gestures to the door and he turns quickly. Sure enough, there you are, a vision in your peacock mask, silky dress, and strappy gold sandals. He wonders how you knew to wear them, since they match his outfit.

You see him sitting at a table and start to make your way towards him. As you approach, he slips out of the chair and stands up, his mouth open a little.

“Wasn't sure you were comin’.” He leans in to kiss your cheek, lingers, and then moves over to your lips, kissing you softly. You smile as he hovers with his mouth just above yours, obviously desperate to kiss you for real.

“Well, I did. Now what?” He taps his nose against yours lightly and smiles.

“You need a drink.” You groan as he pulls back and takes your hand to lead you over to the bar. You order a cocktail and sip it as he wraps himself around you from behind, pressing his lips to your shoulder. “You look good enough to eat, honey.”

You giggle and lean back into him as he kisses your neck.

“You promise?”

“Would I lie?” You turn to face him and he pulls you into a deep kiss, dipping his tongue into your mouth. His arms wrap around your waist and before you know it, your bodies are flush against each other and he's grinding his hips into you. You're both oblivious to the outside world, too lost in the kiss and in each other. It completely catches you off guard when someone taps on your shoulder. You drag yourself out of the kiss and turn. It's one of the dancers.

“Would you two like a private dance in one of our fantasy rooms?” Elvis looks at the girl and then back at you. You're ready to say no, but he has that glint in his eye.

“I think we would, doll.” You look at him with your eyes wide and questioning, but he just kisses your cheek and puts his hand on your lower back to guide you to follow the dancer. At the door, she turns to face you both, pushing it open without stepping inside.

“For a hundred bucks I'll disappear and you can have this room to yourselves for the night.” Elvis grins.

“Great minds think alike. I was gonna ask if you could make this happen. Here.” He fishes a hundred dollar bill out of his pocket and hands it to her. She smiles and disappears as quickly as she appeared. “After you, honey.”

You walk in with him behind you. The room is just a round conversation pit with a built in circular plush couch covered with cushions. The whole thing is dark pink velvet with black trim and the walls are mirrors. The low ceiling is black velvet with mirrored medallions holding it in place and the lighting is low, but still enough to see. He shrugs and then settles on one of the couches. You walk to him and bend over, putting your hands on his knees.

“You been to a lot of places like this?” He looks down the front of your dress and grunts.

“Not at all. There aren't many.”

“So you haven't had a bunch of lapdances?” He raises an eyebrow, not sure where you're going with this.

“Not really, no.”

“You know I used to be a dancer.” His eyes get wide.

“Yeah?” You push him back against the couch and turn away from him, grinding your ass against his lap. The music is loud, but not too loud, so you bounce and roll to it rhythmically as you rub yourself on his already-hard cock. He reaches for your hips but you stand up and bend over in front of him, touching your toes and giving him a good view of your ass. He spanks one cheek and you yelp a little. “My turn to be the boss tonight.”

“Yes daddy.” You whimper as he spanks you again on the other cheek and grins at you calling him daddy.

“Turn around.” Eager to follow instructions, you turn and climb onto his lap, straddling his hips. He holds your ass in both hands as you begin to roll against him to the music. As you dance, you push one of the straps of your dress off your shoulder. He watches as you push the other one off too and let your dress fall open to your waist. The backless nature of the dress means you're not wearing a bra, so this simple action puts your whole chest on display for him. “Goddamn, baby.”

He moves to cup your breasts, pinching your nipples between his fingers. Pulling you towards him, he wraps his lips around one nipple and flicks it with his tongue. Once he's satisfied with how hard it is, he moves to the other side and does the same thing. He nibbles and sucks on you as you run your hands in the back of his hair.

“Fuck, Elvis.”

“I'm just gettin’ started.” He whispers and you smirk.

“Me too.” You sink to the floor between his knees and run your hands up his thighs. His muscles tense as you get closer and closer to his swollen cock. You coo seductively. “What d’you want, baby?”

“Mmm I want you to suck it.”

“Yes daddy.” Your hands go to his belt and then the zipper. He lifts his hips for you to pull his pants down just enough to get his member out, the tip of it leaking precum as it throbs. You pump him so slowly with your hand and he moans softly, watching you. Then, you lean forward and, pulling his foreskin back, lick the tip of his dick. He groans and leans his head back as you take him fully in your mouth, sliding your lips around him tightly and letting him hit the back of your throat. It's been a while since you've given a blowjob, but you used to be pretty good at it, so you tap into those skills as best you can. Either way, he seems to be enjoying it as he grunts and whimpers, his hand moving to the back of your head to hold your hair as he thrusts gently into your mouth. His hips roll as he fucks your face and he strokes your cheek.

“So pretty with your mouth full a’my cock, baby.” You moan softly around him. “Fuck, doll, I don't wanna cum yet.”

He gently pulls your head up off of him and moans as his hard dick bounces with being released from your lips.

“Aw, daddy. How do you want this pussy?” You giggle, standing up. You both still have your masks and half your clothes on, so you slip your panties off and climb into his lap, rubbing your wet folds against him, but not letting him inside. His hips buck and he grunts.

“I wanna fuck her good and hard, baby. Make her cum so good for me.”

His fingertips find your clit and he rubs circles on your swollen bud. You moan loudly and hold onto his shoulders for support.

“Take off everything but your mask.” His voice is quiet but firm, so you stand up and do exactly as he says. He does the same until you're both naked in just your masks. “Lay on your back.”

You settle onto the couch on your back and he puts your ankles on his shoulders, teasing your entrance with the head of this cock.

“You want it hard, baby?”

“God, yes!” You moan as he slams into you in one thrust, your eyes rolling back from being filled so quickly.

“Oh, honey, you take this cock so well.” He picks up an intense pace of thrusting into you and you could die because it feels so good. You're already close to an orgasm as he slams against your g-spot relentlessly, but it really pushes you over the edge when he reaches down to rub on your clit as he fucks you. “Come on, baby, cum for daddy.”

You do as you're told and groan loudly as your climax crashes into you like a freight train, filling your body with electric heat. He slows down just a little as you cum, trying to push off his own orgasm while your pussy squeezes his dick. Without warning, he leans down and picks you up, sitting back on his heels as he holds you in his arms and thrusts into you from underneath. In this position, you can kiss him easily, so you do and it's surprisingly tender. All of a sudden the sex has become something more, something that's binding you together as you look into each other’s eyes. It's like the masks remove the necessity for protective walls and the only thing left is vulnerability and something that shouldn't be there yet, but it is.

“Honey, I'm gonna cum.” He whispers it like a declaration of affection.

“Good.” Your affirmation is a confirmation that you feel the same way. Two more thrusts and he grunts and buries his head in your neck while his cock twitches and shoots his release inside you. He groans into your hair and tries desperately to keep himself from saying the words. It's too soon. Too early. He's only known you for a couple of weeks. But it's there, so close to the tip of his tongue that he's scared to open his mouth. And you wait, needing him to say it first because if you do it makes you insane. So you sit there for a few seconds, both of you refusing to admit what you know to be true. Even if it's stupid, unrealistic, short-lived, it is in fact, true.

He pulls back from his place in your neck and pushes the mask off of your face. Then, you take his off and there's nothing blocking you anymore. You see him and he sees you and there's no going back.

“Fuck. I'm in love with you.” He says it incredulously like he can't believe it either because he can't. It hangs there for a second like smoke before you whisper your response.

“I'm in love with you too.”

******

Until Next Time

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69 @pxpresley @kxnnxy

[octosan]

Working on one of the videos for my drinking game series and I got mad and wrote a whole rant that I realized was a little too much for a drinking game post.

I just hate this script so much you guys. I hate SO MUCH how much they simplified the dialogue, the worldbuilding, the puzzle solving in this game.

I've seen a lot of complaints about fans being illiterate towards the story and to that I say of course they are! The game doesn't ask them to think! Rather than throwing up your hands saying "maybe they had a good reason to dumb down the dialogue and spoonfeed you this stuff"

consider that critical thinking is a muscle

and players do not exercise it when the game is afraid you will forget the core premises of the game, or individual missions, and so repeat them constantly.

When your companions all get along and share the same basic principles beyond bland culture differences, and their principles are all ones deemed acceptable to "modern" audiences, so you never have to think about what life experiences might have led them to feel that way.

When you have your companions constantly patting you and the other companions on the back and saying "nice job!!" in combat as if we wouldn't understand that they are friends otherwise.

When you constantly have characters make juvenile comments like "this is evil, even for the venatori!" or "they did that just for power?/greed?" or "man this makes me hate the venatori even more!" (even more?? these are fantasy nazis!!! you didn't hate them already??) and then don't give the evil factions any nuance because they're afraid you won't get that these factions are eeeeeevil. (The Venatori were never very nuanced outside Calpernia but at least there was lip service that they were a symptom of broader issues, not the convenient cause.)

When you're constantly explaining to the player how many blight pustules they still need to pop, how many crystals you have left, and oh!! the gate's open now! go through the gate! or look! there are darkspawn there where your camera is already pointed! Even late in the game they were doing this! Even at the end of Bellara's questline she was explaining that laser mechanic to me!

When they present you with lore reveals that have been highly anticipated for decades, as well as multiple memories which are meant to add to our interpretation of a core character, and they literally just tell you what to think about them and how to interpret them, at length, in that godawful regret questline. (And tbh even Solas' memories in the Crossroads did not tell me anything I did not already know)

And then Mythal saying "hey those murals are not 100% reliable memories" in a single missable dialogue option that we don't address any further, rendering even that agonizing bit of handholding pointless. Like okay what does it MATTER that they are not 100% reliable? because the redemption ending relies on your interpretations of it being 100% correct!! what purpose does that line serve except to give the writers deniability?

When you don't even bother to GIVE new worldbuilding details when they could absolutely be relevant at the time, except when it makes the writers' job easier like "turlum" or Bellara's clan's funeral practices being indistinguishable from ancient elven ones even though that's literally not what we were told about Dalish practices in the past, guess the Emerald Graves don't exist anymore-. Like just as one example that has stuck in my head, Elgy and Ghilly use terms like The Blight, Archdemons, Darkspawn, the Crossroads, etc. despite being from time periods that predate those terms and presumably having their own words for those same concepts. You can't tell me that Ghilly honestly thinks of her beloved hell children as "darkspawn", or that she would tolerate other people calling them that. You can't tell me that Elgy would agree to call his instrument of reshaping the world, which he is trying to convince people is a good thing, the Blight.

When the game actively punishes people who are familiar with the prior materials with their worldbuilding, punishes people who are reading the codex entries and looking for minor throwaway lines that acknowledge previous shit like the fact that Crows are literally tortured as part of their training and killed if they fail contracts, by having it not be remotely relevant to the story and make it much harder to have the appropriate reaction to what's happening in it (like Rook has no choice but to be happy Jacobus is taking in more orphan crows??) This is low-hanging fruit but it's so illustrative of what I mean.

What other outcome is this all going to have but players who do not look further than the surface? Who miss and ignore little details they have been trained to think do not matter and largely do not inform the broader story and characters? Players who are easily stumped on puzzles because they were not allowed to figure anything else out by themselves?

Are you going to claim that the Orzammar questline in Origins didn't teach anybody a lesson about paying close attention to the social structures and culture of a society when you pick the person who's going to rule it, as opposed to picking the guy who the narrative frames as wise and kind and the other guy framed as a power hungry third child? Are you going to claim that the Archon choice teaches anything remotely as useful?

Like!!!!

GOD

Inquisition had plenty of this stupid handholding too btw. You can argue all of the games had it by degrees. but it wasn't even remotely this bad.

[moonpie016]

---

This song just fits this.

My goodness, they're simpler in design.

Good!

.....And so the rambling begins.

Which I would consider this a oc rambling, I don't know what these dudes are anymore. Except for Myst. But fun.

Though I already explained stuff here.

(If ya wanna read or re-read.)

The wall of words underneath.

⬇️

💛

Soooo.

Illy (she/her)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

First one up. Not much has changed honestly. Still trying to have some calculated way of thinking about things, either logically or critically. It's a struggle for her.

But likes using whatever knowledge she has to idk, rant? Spout random facts?

She's just minding her own business unless it IS her business. (Or nosy).

She has glasses now. Yay! Great! She can read without straining her eyes!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

💛

---

💜

Waxing (he/they)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I kinda stole the name Waxing from an old oc of mine, sooo that's his name now. Old oc has no name now. :]

A new thing (other than the headphones) is that the center of his hoodie can basically become or resemble a pit.

Because that's how any strong emotion feels. Usually negative ones. He hates it, Illy tries to make Wax calm down with reasons he shouldn't be anxious, but falls out the window.

💜

It only works if he's not too worked up. Man's eyesight is....ok. Not the best, because unlike his other part, he has to squint at most things. Like words on signs and stuff. Why doesn't he just copy his other half? Idk. He's stubborn. And character design reasons.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

---

❤️

Seeds (She/he/they)

Myst (she/her)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Imma just put Seeds and Myst together here.

Because they're basically one in the same. Yes, Seeds' jacket has stuff on it, I probably will draw something with more stuff on the jacket. (Because I didn't know what else to think of.)

The one side of his face is more expressive than the other. Mostly because each one of these guys looks upset every waking moment.

(They're not, they just look like that.)

But I guess it's to show being more comfortable in being expressive and just not feeling comfortable and trying to... understand the room. Confusion.

Is their goal the same as the album? No. They're all technically "whole", but don't understand anything about this life stuff. It's weird, tricky, and overall odd.

Living in a nice relaxing Void™ is all they know. But taking a step into unknown territory is the what they want, an adventure.

(Depending on whatever adventure really means to them. Or me.) Breaking out of this weird shaped shell. Because the world is scary.

Too much scary stuff that makes Wax retreat to his safe space, and essentially brings his other counterparts with him.

She's more honest and blunt about everything. Even when she's trying not to be. Her cold face, her voice. Always been how she's characterized in my head.

Myst doesn't like this because she knows that this isn't ok. But the others, especially Seeds and Wax just... don't do anything.

But, she and Illy continue to try and strive for new things. Even when the other two challenge them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🩵

---

I really need to update tags on certain stuff.

Ok, I think I've ramble enough again.

But hope you enjoyed this... random redesign/ LORE (not really lore.). :3

---

[bumblingbabooshka]

Thinking about marriage/women's rights on Vulcan Some may think that T'Pring not being allowed to divorce Spock was because he was going through the pon farr but if she were allowed to divorce him at all she probably would have done that a long time ago, confirmed by T'Pol when she's speaking with Koss, who isn't suffering from the pon farr. She says that he can choose another mate (without invoking a fight it seems: note the difference between a 'mate' and a 'challenger') and after he makes it clear that nothing she says will change his mind about marrying her, she finally threatens to declare a kal-if-fee. It's clear that Vulcan women cannot divorce/refuse to marry a man they've been betrothed to under any circumstances if A) He himself doesn't consent to ending their marriage or B) She doesn't have someone else waiting in the wings to be given to in his stead. Though, if the challenger she selects fails to win the fight, she'll have to marry her betrothed anyway unless (again) he decides he doesn't want her after the challenge. That seems like an incredibly unfair system, heavily biased towards men. SNW is an alternate universe in many obvious respects but most egregiously in that T'Pring has a lot of non-canonical agency over her relationship with Spock. It's interesting to me that Vulcan society has women in many positions of power and treats women as equal to men from what I've seen despite these laws. We don't really see Vulcans exhibiting a misogynistic attitude towards women in general but in TOS (perhaps because of its general writing style but it's still interesting to note) both Sarek and Spock take on patriarchal attitudes specifically regarding wives. Amanda says that 'of course' Sarek commands her because "he is a Vulcan and I am his wife." It's worthwhile in my eyes to note that she specifies 'wife' instead of attributing this attitude to women as a whole. Again, with TOS' writing style it wouldn't be out of place for her to say "he is a man and I am a woman." Spock, while in a pon farr induced irritation, states that it's "undignified for a woman to play servant to a man that isn't hers" - again implying that there's something specific about being a Wife in Vulcan society which is different from being a woman in general and demands subservience to a husband. This could perhaps stem from the extreme sense of ownership that Vulcan law has permitted men to have over women. A woman legally cannot point blank refuse marriage. There is no option which guarantees she won't have to marry her betrothed other than death. When T'Pau speaks of T'Pring she refers to her as being 'property' and Stonn, before being interrupted, states he's made 'the ancient claim' - we don't know what this is because he gets cut off but it's obvious they're both using the language of Vulcan law. Men are permitted true freedom to choose. If a woman wants to choose someone else to be with there is no option available to her other than the kal-if-fee which might result in the death of the one she wants to be with. And, if her lover fails, her husband can still just decide he wants to marry her and she'll be forced to. T'Pring gives two scenarios: One where Spock 'frees' her and one where he doesn't - it's still ultimately his decision which is clear when he ends the conversation with "Stonn, she is yours." This again isn't just because of the pon farr as T'Pol also goes through this. Koss can choose another mate and when the option is talked about there's no implication that this would result in any sort of fight (both by the casualness of its mention and by the fact that there's no formal word for it unlike the kal-if-fee.) Also, the fact that Koss does eventually grant T'Pol a divorce and it's all fine means that T'Pol isn't lawfully required to have another man waiting if her HUSBAND doesn't want her. It's ONLY required if SHE doesn't want her husband. Tradition must take precedence over individual desire UNLESS!!! You're a man. Then it's fine. Like, your parents might not be happy but legally you're golden.

[arson-09]

Have been seeing some discussion again about tamlin being a good High Lord or not and I just have to remind everyone of one of the best little facts from acotar I never really seen mentioned.

Acotar, Chapter 25 Page 221

She [Alis] simply said, "Summer Solstice. The main celebration used to be at the Summer Court, but... Things are different. So now we have one here, too. You're going."

"so now we have one here too..." Because of amarantha and Tamlin being just a good person he allowed anyfae from any court to come to spring. And because no one could really go back to their courts for their respective solstice celebrations, Tamlin made sure Spring Celebrated all of them

I just think that's such a cool fucking thing. That Tamlin cared for the people coming to spring for safety, and he made changes to help everyone feel comfortable and at home. He cares about the people who live in Spring, he cares so damn much :(((

[anonymouscheeses]

Thanks... mate 😈 (IVE ACHEIVE MY DREAM OF BEING CALLED MATE I CAN DIE HAPPILY NOW! /J) BUT SRSLY THANK YOU SO MUCH! if your still here after being in the inbox for months 😔

Anyway since your so kind here's my full body design + somewhat updated designs of chaggie!

I THINK VAGGIE LOOKS SO PRETTY??? IS THAT JST ME? I think I kinda ate 😎 but yeah she's your average person (depressed. Edgy. Angsty.) And she wear jordans cuz she's just cool like that 😍 she listens to hard-core rock music and Tyler, the creator for sure. Idk she also gives off Mitski vibes (no... it's not because I'm listening to Mitski right now wdym.....). Her dad(Husk) couldn't afford a prosthetic eye so she opted for the eyepatch(she would wear it anyways she's a freak like that 😭)

Charlie design! Her horns stay out because she's not sure how to conceal them yet. When they grew out it became hard to hide them. She's a bit insecure about her demon features. Doesn't help her parents think of her as a failure and disappointment. Yeah, she's got some family problems 😔 my poor baby. Oh yeah and also she kills people for Valerie! It's apart of their deal, due to Valerie's gang stuff, she summoned a demon to protect her. And kill for her. Who knew she'd fall in love with that same demon and let alone become friends with her?

Human form! Her pupils are still goat like, plus her fingers look like claws to differ herself from other humans. Buttt... she still fits in as one so she's totally fine! She's kinda giving Sheldonnand I'm scared. She's annoying asf to everyone in the school she goes to with Valerie. People try to fuck her up but she doesn't want to risk getting caught as a demon so when that happens, Valerie is the one that protects her! So ykno, a good ol' switcheroo! Not one sided protecting here!! 😈

[putting-wheatley-in-places]

Sitting with Felix. Bonding over guilt - The Walten Files (Cyberfun Tech)



[lupins-hehim-pussy]

I wanna know ur Fontaine msq criticisms 👁️👁️👂I’m all ears

I'm not sure if you wanted me to talk about this secretly or publicly but! Here I go!

The TLDR: Fontaine MSQ aestheticised prison, poverty, child abuse, the justice system/court and didn't properly address any of it.

More:

Focalors/Furina has way too much of a sympathetic angle for a dictator who's lets people drown with her inaction.

Neuvillette feels Bad for sentencing some people to death/prison, but that's it. He's one of the most powerful people in Fontaine. If he felt like there are systemic injustices, I.E sending an abused Child to prison, he should be the first person to DO something about it, not just cry and be sad so the audience can be like aw, that's complex character writing isn't it? No it's not! And guilt doesn't absolve you!!!!!!! (These are stuff we deal with in OTCOJ read my fic now /j)

Meropide has children in it, both Sentenced there (Wriothesley) and BORN THERE (Lanoire), and this is just a quirk of the place. Not only that, Meropide accepts prisoners of all genders and crimes. There are abusers and abuse victims in one place. Do you know how bad that is? How much potential for crimes to happen in a place like that— oh wait, Meropide isn't under Fontaine's jurisdiction. If you are assaulted as an inmate it literally means nothing to the court.

Wriothesley had no qualifications when he took over. Depending on how long he lived on the streets, how old he was when he killed his parents, how old he was when he was first taken in by the orphanage, etc, the man might never have more than 4–5 years of formal education. Sigewinne probably had to teach him how to write reports. And do Meropide's spreadsheets. Edit because I forgot to elaborate on this one: This isn't a point brought up anywhere, which is bad, because when poverty and incarceration robs you of a proper education (and the rights to vote in many places too, too, by the way), it reduces your prospects for jobs, reduces many people's ability to get a home etc etc. Wriothesley was just, narratively, Given his position.

Meropide is an industrialized prison, and they portray this as a good thing. Prisoners are paid in coupons for their labour, and this is also portrayed as a good thing.

The One-Meal-A-Day reform was something Paimon gushed about being so great of a perk, that people might want to go to jail for food (could be interesting and reflective of systemic poverty if MHY had brains, but they don't, so I was just Pissed because essentially all Paimon wanted to say was "Prison isn't so bad, but still don't go to prison guys! Prison labour is really hard!"). By the way, in most real-world prisons they are obligated to feed you three meals a day. Because that's how much food a human needs. MHY went with one meal just so they can say "if you want to eat more, you have to work." And then the welfare meal is a goddamn gacha. So imagine you're a starving child who's too weak to work in the fucking robot assembly line, and you wander up for your first meal in 24 hours, only to luck in with a shit one. I'd kill myself.

They wrote Wriothesley, who's a victim of the system, into a guy who's say shit like "I'm the Duke I can do whatever I want" for a cool moment where he choke-slams an inmate (I know he was a bad guy. But also, in copaganda when cops are violent/disregarding protocols, they are always only portrayed to do that against bad guys, so what does our critical thinking tells us about this one?) They wrote Wriothesley, who was an inmate of a prison so bad, so notorious that it is the literal boogeyman of Fontaine, that has a legal (???) fighting pit, with an administrator who abuses his position to be unreasonable, to willingly stay in the place and become an Administrator who would choke-slam an inmate while saying a cool line about how he has the power to do whatever he wants. They wrote him, the guy who had to be fed on the streets by melusines, to think one-meal-a-day was a good enough reform (while he spends god-knows how much on his boat). This wasn't a victim-turns-into-abuser narrative either, they want all this to be seen as positive character growth.

And then, the final kicker is, they gloss over his entire abuse. You can only read about these shit in his profile, which most people don't because they don't Have Him or doesn't care to unlock it/read it online, and they jammed his entire backstory into a flaccid info-dump at the end of his character story quest. This man isn't Allowed to feel abused and neglected and show any reaction to it within the narrative of Fontaine itself, because if they actually Gave Weight to what happened to him, they'd have to confront THE FUCKING JUSTICE SYSTEM they had NO PLANS on criticising. I don't think they ever explicitly said the fucking Crime-Theatre nonsense was Bad either.

I could go on, but this is already so long. But yeah, I hope this gave you an idea.

[blujayonthewing]

DM, on getting together to talk about backstory stuff I have to have him build with me: I might need to ask a few more questions about Felix and also what drives him besides curiosity

me: is curiosity not enough??

also me: well the other major thing was supposed to be solving this mystery that I asked for your cooperation with six months ago and have never gotten any input on

[lemonynuggets]

I might take a little social media break soon, I need to focus on some big events coming up on my life and I feel like it’d just be good for my health in general

I’ll still be on discord a lot tho (I love talking to my friends yayy) so if you wanna talk to me for any reason you can find me there!! Waos!!!!

So uhh bye in around a week I guess!!

[puhpandas]

thinking abt the ggy easter eggs rn

[coquelicoq]

i love fan jian he is my favorite guy. i love everything about him. the emperor just said with a soupçon of menace "fan xian est rusé. n'a-t-il pas appris de vous?" and fan jian replied "je suis bon et innocent. je n'ose pas accepter cette appréciation" like butter would not melt in his mouth. JE SUIS BON ET INNOCENT. he said that to the emperor who is like thiiis close to shooting him with an arrow just for funsies. the emperor goes "bon et innocent?" like did you really just say that to me bro. they're both having so much fun even though bixia is trying to be like don't test me i could end you. but could he really? could anybody bring themselves to do anything to that little face. god. i am obsessed.