#one of my favorite phrases

[meezer]

I really love it when linda says "oh my god the torture is awful"

[spursthatjinglejanglejingle]

I keep forgetting that the phrase "it insists upon itself" is from family guy

[readythefanons]

1, 14, & 15!

ah! ♥ I will answer re: my silly MurderBot WIP

1: the dumbest possible version of the next sentence needed:

And then the soft marshmallow and the sunshine one hugged, and the grouchy one was grouchy about not being included while still repulsed by physical touch.

That's it, that's the penultimate beat of this entire thing!!!!

15: what about this WIP is driving you nuts?

Honestly I would really like to be done writing this one! It feels like having a tab open for several months... in my brain

14: what do you like about this WIP?

This is the dumbest, silliest, most unnecessary fic in the entire world. The audience for this fic is me and one other person, maximum, and given my current antipathy for it, it's probably less than 2 right now!

And yet,* here it is, still taking up space in my brain.

This started with some sort of joke along the lines of "I'm going to invent a crackship. I'm going to artificially create a blorbo." And then I picked a) a character with like 3 speaking lines in the whole fic and b) a character with 0 speaking lines that may or may not be canonically sentient. And I went "IT'S TIME"

And... you know??? It was super fun to write! And my friend liked it! And I would just love to slip those last few jokes into it and tie it up with a bow.

And I will.

(someday!)

[vampirepuppygirl]

I love the phrase "thank you for indulging me"

Thank you for allowing me the pleasure

Thank you for spoiling me

Thank you for satisfying me

Thank you for fulfilling my desires

Thank you for indulging me

[attleboy]

thank you for being so nice to my past couple tadc doodle posts... shitpost be upon thee

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

christ sometimes I just wanna. steal a time machine & go back & sit down next to my 9-year-old self and just like. let them pull out their pokemon card binder & gush about their holographic gyarados or whatever. I'd just smile & ask questions about motherfukcing bulbasaur & tell my kid self that I thought they were a neat person, & someday they'd find other people who thought so too.

like i'm a grown adult who honestly finds most kids stuff boring, but. damn if i could go back & hang out with my baby self & listen to them ramble...just so they knew someone was listening. i would in a heartbeat. thinking about u kid

[marlynnofmany]

Seeing Faces

It’s rare when we get a shipment to deliver that’s not packaged somehow — either in Earth-standard boxes, another world’s version of shipping crates, or a livestock pen of some kind. Even that bunch of alien trees had been thoroughly wrapped at the bottom. But this collection of machinery parts didn’t have so much as a layer of cling-wrap on it. I guess the owners figured these things were sturdy enough not to need it.

They were probably right. The metal chunks were heavy. I tried to guess what they were made for as Blip and Blop muscled the biggest ones onto a hover sled, clearing the way for Paint and me to gather up the smaller pieces. Captain Sunlight bid the customer farewell and shut the cargo bay door.

“I think these look like vertebrae,” I said to Paint. “Greasy vertebra. Ew. I’m going to need a new shirt.” The offworld engine oil of whatever didn’t seem acidic at least, so that was nice. I sighed about the black smears.

“Strange vertebrae,” Paint said, juggling her own armload of odd shapes that didn’t seem to be rubbing off on her orange scales. Not that I was jealous or anything. “There would need to be a dual spinal cord.” She tapped a claw on one of the holes.

“Hm, yeah. There are probably animals like that,” I said. “Or robots, as the case may be.”

Ahead of us, Captain Sunlight opened the door to the appropriate storage hold, then headed off on captainly business. It was impressive how different a vibe she gave off compared to Paint, for all their physical similarities. Both were little lizardy people, but one strode with her lemon-yellow head held high, every inch the authority figure, while the other was Paint. She somehow bounced when she walked, even when weighted down by unwieldy metal things.

“I’ll bet these stack really well,” Paint said. “They look like they interlock. We could probably build a spinal column without them falling over.”

“We probably could,” I agreed. “But I don’t want to be the one responsible for bending one of the flanges because we wanted to test it out.”

“Hm. Yep yep yep. But I maintain that we could.”

“We could.”

The two of us entered the storage hold to find Blip and Blop racing to see who could unload the sled faster. It’s not that the Frillian twins were overly competitive, but they were twins. They’d apparently hatched at the same time, and had been in a low-key competition to see who was better at life ever since. But they smiled while they did it.

“Done!” Blip declared, setting down a lump of metal big enough for Paint to hide behind. She raised her hands in triumph, fins fluttering.

“Doesn’t count,” Blop said as he put down his own piece. “You didn’t line them up right. Mine are tidier.”

They squabbled about this while Paint and I unloaded our metal chunks nearby. I had to kneel to keep from dropping the things. It would be just my luck if they did warp on impact, or bounce off each other and whack me in the shin.

The Frillians took their debate out the door before I finished. They’d already moved on to who could steer the hoversled with the minimum of touching.

“Ha,” Paint said. “They do stack.”

I turned to see only one of the things set on top of another, with Paint ready to catch it if it slid. She took it down before I could say anything.

I just nodded and arranged my own into a reasonable huddle, then wiped my hands on my shirt. It was only when I moved toward the door, with a look back at the big pieces, that I got a good look at the one that Blop had set on its side.

This was the logical place to put it, not sticking out past the rest, but the thing that caught my attention was the shape when seen from this angle. Those two holes could have been eyes, and the flanges were shaped like stubby arms. There were even a couple slots in the middle like nostrils.

I burst out laughing.

“What?” Paint demanded.

“It looks like Zhee!” I said, pointing. “Big bug eyes and everything!”

“What does?” Paint asked. She came to stand next to me, following my arm, but just looked confused. “Where are the eyes?”

“These!” I said, stepping closer and pointing at the holes. “And those are the arms. Isn’t it perfect?”

Paint cocked her head as if slightly tilted vision could unlock the answers. “Arms?”

I repeated myself, but she still looked lost, so I found a notepad and pencil in a storage cupboard —reliable even when the batteries all run out — and sketched what I saw.

“Ohh, I get what you mean now,” Paint said when I showed her. “Those parts are lifted like pincher arms, and those are roughly the same proportion as Mesmer eyes.”

“Yeah, it’s uncanny,” I said.

Paint took the notepad to study it closer. “How did you even notice that?”

“It was pretty easy,” I told her. “It just jumped out at me when I looked from the right direction. Like seeing faces in clouds, you know?”

Paint’s blank expression said that she didn’t know.

“Do you not do that? Find patterns of familiar shapes in random things?”

“No?” she replied. “Is that a thing I’m supposed to be doing?”

“You don’t have to! It’s just something that everybody does on Earth, ever since we’re kids. It’s probably from a long history of watching for camouflaged predators in the bushes. You’ve got camouflage on your planet, right? You must.”

“Yeah, sure,” Paint said easily. “But I guess not that much. I’ve never seen a face in a cloud; that sounds terrifying.”

“Not really; it’s more like feeling smart for spotting something. Well,” I amended. “It could be a little unsettling if you see a skull or something. But that’s rare. There are whole systems of divination about this sort of thing.”

Paint looked like she was about to ask a million questions, but right then the sound of familiar clicking footsteps tapped down the hall.

“Zhee!” Paint called, whirling with the notebook in her hand. “Zhee, look what Robin saw!”

Zhee came into view looking just as eyecatching and purple as usual, halting at the doorway while Paint eagerly explained the conversation we’d just had. Quickly and enthusiastically. With lots of waving the sketch around, and pointing back at the machine part.

I felt like apologizing as he stared with an unreadable alien expression. His antennae weren’t even moving; I couldn’t tell what he thought of it all.

Finally Paint finished talking. “She says it’s probably because her species watches for predators in the bushes. Isn’t that amazing?”

Zhee made a point of looking slowly from the sketch to the metal thing, then to me. I braced myself for judgement.

Instead, Zhee raised his pincher arms into the same pose and declared, “I am the danger that lurks in the bushes.” Then he slunk out of sight, many legs scuttling in a quickstep way that he knew darn well I found creepy.

Paint blinked at the empty doorway, still holding the notebook.

“Aw, man,” I said. “He’s picking things up from Trrili.”

Paint immediately closed the notebook. “We definitely shouldn’t show her.”

“Agreed!” I said.

After a moment of thought, Paint tore the page out and handed it to me, then took the notebook back to the cupboard. I pocketed it with a final glance at the metal vertebra that looked remarkably like a cartoonish Mesmer squaring up for battle.

Someone had left a roll of no-residue marking tape on a box nearby. I grabbed a strip and stuck it onto the metal, with the ends curved up.

Now the thing had a goofy grin that possibly no one would recognize. But if there were any humans on the receiving end of this delivery, they ought to get a good laugh out of it.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[marshmallowgoop]

I combined footage from my Detektiv Conan Blu-ray with audio from my Case Closed FUNimation DVD and made an HD English dub clip compilation for Episodes 57-58, "The Holmes Freak Murder Case."

[crtter]

Oh! Did you know! Iyami’s zansu originated as a form of speech associated with women! More specifically, an archaic, shortened form of de gozaimasu, associated with the madams of old-timey high class adult entertainment businesses. This, like most of Iyami’s speech quirks, comes directly from Tony Tani, one of the comedians Akatsuka took inspiration from when creating him. Tony Tani’s influence is VERY visible on Iyami, from his flamboyant stage persona, his tendency to sprinkle English words in his speech (he introduced himself as “number one handsome boy” in English, for example) to his signature pencil mustache! In fact, Iyami’s voice in the 80s adaptation of the Osomatsu-kun anime is a VERY spot on Tony Tani impression by Kaneta Kimotsuki! Just listen to one after the other:

[khaopybara]

Don't judge a book by its cover. An essay by Mew Pt. 2

Mew in his revenge era went shopping and thought, "you know what screams I'm gonna fuck you up, maybe you'll like it, maybe you won't? Floral/patterned shirts," and proceeded to buy a bunch of those.

BOOK KASIDET as MEW WITSARUT ( ONLY FRIENDS EPS. 7-12 )

Correction: I missed one outfit in ep. 6 and instead of remaking that set, I'll just post it below because it's actually the hottest Mew has looked, so I'm not even upset.

[asmilethatshines]

The center of my universe (The Sun)

Usually Near is often seen as the moon and Mello as the sun (even their personalities and appearances fit the comparisons), but when I look at their relationship, especially in the manga, I feel that Mello has let his whole life revolve around Near's too much. All his dialogues are "Near this, Near that" and his whole existence is solely to prove his abilities to Near. In a way Near is his sun that he revolves around. If I was Mello I would go insane after a month by that much pressure for staying too close to "the sun"

For @nearsbday event that @empressofthewind and @neallo are running: "The Sun" prompt (August 21)

[stickersgeorg]

Sticker page of stickers by @chick-it-out!!!

[gemstarstarlight]

“Ego is like a dish that only feeds you false fruit. Right? Like, the more that you eat off of your own ego, the more you starve your spirit.”

—Josh Johnson

[asleepinawell]

Nael van Darnus - The White Raven

Tsuki ni kawatte, oshioki yo!

[tamofthedragons]

first order of business: posting all this art I've had kicking around. look at my bhoppers boy

[bungone]

Actually no im not done because I know it gets talked about a lot but Lolita is such an interesting piece of media; not just the book itself but people's attitudes towards it.

like, first off, there's the actual author (nabokov) who goes out of his way to talk about how childish, mokeyish, immature and whatnot Dolores is in the most unnappealing possible ways, and then specifically said that he didnt want the kind of cover that every single fucking published edition of Lolita has?? With girls who are either being sexualized or very obviously having "a good time" which is absolutely not what Dolores was doing in the book?? I really, really, don't think anyone who designs these covers has even opened the first page because what. the. fuck.

It's so obvious that my man Humbert Humbert is an unreliable narrator, but gee, I guess we learned to take everything we read at face value, and also everything that comes from a protagonist's mouth as the "correct" way of viewing things, both in the book and in real life?

And even then, maybe, just MAYBE I can excuse the people who talk about how the book is fucked up because it's "glorifying pedophillia".

Maybe they had a really shitty english teacher. At the very least, they're reading it and understanding that the actions of Humbert Humbert aren't okay? They got to the halfway point. Maybe their education sytem failed them.

Maybe they had a really shitty high school english teacher that never taught them the skills necessary to understand this kind of writing. Maybe they're just dense, that's who they are as a person, and it would take someone going out of their way to point it out for them to consider the possibility.

But then there's the fucking apologists?? Like, putting aside the whole Dolores being 12 (which, yeah, is akin to putting aside the whole book, but bear with me for a second), Humbert Humbert not only kidnaps her (illegal), lies to her for a long time about her mother (not illegal but generally shitty), but is implied to have committed murder (illegal, not sure if implied is the right word here because it absolutely happened and everyone knows it), and sexually abuses Dolores (very illegal). These are crimes. He is a criminal. Say what you want about the justice system these are crimes that absolutely should be crimes.

He's clearly not an upstanding citizen, and I fail to understand how some people look at all his behavior and go "oh yes, the the man who killed a woman and kidnapped a 12 year old girl is just misunderstood, and he did those things for true love" like fuck no.

I like Lolita. It's an objectively good book. The quality of writing (high quality, I mean, I normally hate first-person writing but I actually liked Lolita), it's a great psychological horror piece that doesn't rely on things like shock value and overused tropes. The characters are all multi-dimensional and frankly, act realistically. But that's all it is. A psychological HORROR piece. It's not romantic. If anything, it's meant to make you sympathize with Humbert, and then you're supposed to take a step back and be like, "Wait. Why am I sympathizing with him? I'm not a pedophile." Because yeah, he's a complex character but that only goes to make him realistic in terms of the kind of pedos that exist in real life.

Pedophiles are people too. Mentally ill people, really, really shitty people who need serious help, but reducing them to "not human" only makes them an "other", which makes you forget that on the outside, they look like normal people. That have friends and family and go to school or have jobs and order coffe and read in libraries and yeah, maybe you sat next to one of them an entire year in organic chemistry. They're not weird stalkers that hang out in bushes in parks. Some of them, maybe, but not all. Nowhere near all.

man that derailed fast.