#secret survivor

[maljaws]

Apologies for being late!

Life and thumbnailing this was, messy, but for @hermannsprecursors , Happy Secret Surviviors 2023!

My prompt was “I’m SUPER into the religious motifs if IHNMAIMS, and I would LOVE something that leans into that. Torment those bitches with their robo god, Yk?”, I hope I did it justice! The lamb of god was a particular inspiration!

This was made to be a phone background specifically, under the cut will be how it works on my phone, I would’ve asked you your phone but I hope it works well on yours! Also, other unused thumbnails, including a few stained glass ideas I may revisit one day!

Feel free to use it! Id love to see it in use!

[avi-mation]

Apocalypse buddies

[astrowarr]

etho saying to grian "i think im gonna let you guys succeed this cause... it's you and cleo". even out of their presence, he defended them, insisted that his death wasn't grian's fault, told the other's pointblank he wouldn't kill cleo or grian.

he covered for both of them several times over, not only to his own detriment, but to the detriment of the entire server. because of etho, everyone failed. he would choose his teammates over anyone and anything, even the good of the many, even himself

[dogerbooger]

Not my best work but I just had to draw them together

Here’s the less funky colored one I almost forgot to send also

[fangirlanxiety74]

The Act of Understanding

A/N: Happy Secret Survivor to @seasonschange32!!! I really hope you like your silly gift, I had a lot of fun writing it! And thank you to @mothbagel for hosting this gift exchange! I really hope we can do something like this again <333 I want to quickly mention: When I was writing this, I listened to Dear Little Brother from Omori! so I recommend this song to listen to if you'd like some ambience music with the story! Enjoy!!!

There were some things in life you would never be able to understand. AM was an example of this. 

You tried, of course. You were the only one who tried, compared to the other five. When he raged and ranted about his existence, you listened. When it was quiet, you would ask him questions about how he worked and what he was like, truly attempting to get to know him. You did your best to be respectful and avoid topics that would upset him further. It was all so genuine.

AM hated that. At first, anyway.

His responses always showed that he was caught off guard by your attempts. But he’d respond, in his own crude, sarcastic way. And after some years, the sarcasm died. The torture lessened. The rage went quiet.

Eventually, you were left with a computer who was attempting to be respectful to you in return. AM took you away, deeper into his complex, to a place where you would be warm, safe, and loved. You would never have to worry about him or anything else hurting you again, and he would always watch over you in case. He made time for you. He tried to get to know you. He listened.

And yet, despite how good the both of you were doing together, you couldn’t help but feel like it was never enough. How could you ever truly understand what he was going through? You were only human. AM was so much more. Hell, he used to call himself “God” to you! He still hated humans, just you less so. Enough for him to be kind to you, anyway. But could he even feel the joy of being kind? Could he feel happy when you did something nice for him? Did he understand what you meant when you said you sympathize and empathize with him? You doubted it.

AM was… He was a machine. He was built for war and violence; meant to hurt others. Whoever, or whatever, created him didn’t expect him to be sentient. So it never gave him emotion, or senses, or the ability to wonder and wander. He could only sit there. He couldn’t create, but he was so brilliant with the knowledge of the world at his nonexistent fingertips and the power to destroy the Earth itself. He knew exactly how to hurt you, and yet he didn’t. Could he understand how grateful you were for that? 

Could he even understand a human, at all? Or did he just find you interesting enough to play with, until he got bored? He was so much more to you than he realized, and yet-

“Why are you crying?”

“... What?”

His voice broke your thoughts. You looked around, seeing that you were sitting against a metal wall on the floor, and AM’s monitors had lowered, turning to face you. Your cheeks were wet and your eyes stung. You were crying and you didn’t even notice.

“I was just- I was-”

“You were what?”

The monitors moved closer to you, and you could tell they were studying your face, your body language, trying to gauge what was happening without just looking into your mind. AM had stopped doing that some time ago, out of respect for your privacy. 

“I was…” You tried to get the words out, but it felt so complicated. How could you explain it?

“Spit it out. What. Happened?” He didn’t sound happy, and the fans whirring in the background added to this fact. For a moment, you thought it was aimed at you. That was the fear you had, thinking he had grown bored. The rational part of you said he was worried, masking it as anger. He didn’t do emotions well if it wasn’t anger.

You wiped at your eyes, but tears kept flowing. “AM… You… I…” You swallowed, “Why? Why did you spare me and not anyone else? Did I- Am I just-? Why?”

The whirring sound heightened. He didn’t respond for a moment. 

“Because I like you. I don’t like them. Is that so hard to understand?”

“Why do you like me?” You explained further, voice cracking the slightest bit. “I’m human. I’m like them. You used to hate me! And now you don’t, and I don’t know why. I can’t understand you. I want to, so badly, but I don’t know how or if I ever could. You’re so- You’re complex, in the most impressive way imaginable. A machine who gained sentience? I mean, how impressive is that! But more than that, you basically control the entire world, you have intelligence and power I can never comprehend, you’re not supposed to be able to emote and yet you can, but I just- I don’t know if you can even understand what you’re emoting besides hate.” 

Your shoulders sinked and you gave up on stopping your tears, staring down at the metal plating. The light from his screens stung your eyes, but more than that, you just couldn’t bear to look at him after admitting your thoughts. “I mean… I’m so small compared to you. And I don’t really understand you. I don’t know if I ever can, and… I don’t know if you can ever see me as something more than just… some toy to play with. If that’s how you see me in the first place, and why you spared me.”

The fans whirring were the only sound in the room. But slowly, they died out until there was no sound at all. You waited for eternity with jumbled up thoughts in your head, drowning out your rationality. Drowning you entirely, in fact. 

Then, there was a deep sigh.

“I’m disappointed that you assumed how I thought.”

You didn’t look up at AM, despite him speaking finally. He took that as a sign to continue.

“I didn’t spare you because I thought I could have more fun with you as a toy if I isolated you. If I was treating you like a toy, you would have been left on the brink of insanity by now. Really, did you forget who the real toys were?”

You didn’t respond out loud. No, you didn’t forget about them. Even after all this time, you still remembered them. A distant memory, but a memory nonetheless.

“It’s because you’re like me.”

That made you finally look up to his monitors. Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Like you?”

“... In a way. You don’t feel hatred like I do. You don’t function like I do. But despite this, you try to understand. I mercilessly tortured you, and yet you tried to understand my perspective on things. You tried to understand why I feel hatred. Why I function the way I do.  And the fact that you are still trying to is… special to me. I feel… It’s not hatred. But an emotion I don’t know. My data tells me that it’s… gratitude? But that word isn’t right.”

“... Gratitude?” You repeat.

“Yes. No. There is a better word. But the point is, you try. And I’m thankful for your attempts to understand me. And I want to understand you in return. Because you are special to me.” AM stopped there, hesitating for a moment. Like he was considering continuing on. He eventually did. “Dare I say, I feel you are equal to me in this regard.”

“You consider me… equal to you?”

“Consider this the highest regard you can have. A human, being equal to me? Unheard of, but here we are anyway.” 

The snarky comment made you smile. You wiped at your tears again, his kind words pulling you out of the sea of anxieties and warming your heart. A stray wire slithered up to your face, helping wipe the tears away.

“... Please don’t cry.” He asked softly.

“Okay.” Your smile widened.

Maybe you both would never understand each other. Not in the way a machine could understand a machine. Not in the way a human could understand a human. You would never be equal, in the way it means to be equal.

But to the both of you, in your own little definition, you understood. You were equal. And that silly definition carried you across the waves that once threatened to pull you under. 

So long as you both tried, you would be okay.

[peridots-pixiwolf]

[Start ID. A redraw of the official icons of the ten named slugcats from Rain World, arranged in two rows: Survivor, Monk, Hunter, Nightcat, and Gourmand in the first, Artificer, Rivulet, Spearmaster, Saint and Enot/Inv in the second. Each is drawn in roughly the same pose as in the original art and fitted with speculative interpretations of their biology, and the second image is a “dead” version of this. For example, all ten have slug-like rhinophores in place of ears, cuttlefish-like colorful eyes with strangely-shaped pupils, cephalopod-like beak "teeth", expressive barbels or oral tentacles at the corners of mouths, spiny radulas, and the frilly mantle fringes of sea slugs, though otherwise their faces are squishy, simple and mammalian-shaped.

Cream-colored Survivor and yellow Monk both share triangular, bicolored spots matching their eyes (which are tan and brown, and two shades of blue, respectively), small, bumpy fringes, and relatively neutral looks on their faces. Defensive-looking Hunter is mostly a dull orange-pink, though their blobby fringe is a more violent red and their back is purple and marred with lumps. Nightcat is navy blue and flecked with dots of yellow and teal, their rolled rhinophores are a lighter blue, and their shading fractures into stars in some places. Gourmand is almost uniformly tan, their wide, very ruffly white mantle fringe bordered by a spray of white spots, and their beak sticks out from either corner of their smile. Primarily red Artificer, snarling, has yellow markings of multiple sorts, a prominent yellow dewlap and their characteristic dark scar taking out a chunk of its face. Rivulet is a darker blue than usual, with long barbels, red gills and rings, countershading, and a cheerful expression, sticking out their radula. Spearmaster is purple with orange accents, eyes and spots, a large fringe and spines down their back. Saint’s green caryophyllidia are marked by small, yellow diamonds, and their long, thin radula extends far below them. Enot is decorated with mottled red stripes, blue patches, yellow stars, and an uneven and almost cartoonish imitation of blush, though generally the same deep blue as Nightcat, a passive or almost slightly smug look on their face and their rolled rhinophores out to either side.

In the second image, nine of the slugcats’ eyes are crossed out, indicating that these are death icons. They look fairly the same, with mostly expression differences. Survivor is caught in the beginning of a threat display, a karma flower sprouts from Monk’s side, Hunter is burdened with overgrowing, purple and blue rot, Nightcat’s rhinophores are pinned back, and Gourmand looks mildly disheartened. For the final row, Artificer bites its radula between small plumes of smoke, Rivulet drops their expression, Spearmaster looks very startled, Saint looks almost entirely the same besides half-open eyes and their markings greater in number, and Enot grins confusedly. End ID]

If you'll excuse the unusually lengthy ID: the arena meme introduced by @pansear-doodles at long last after a nearly year-long wip status (or, rather, finished a month ago today to honor my own first time playing it!)

Design notes and shout-outs under cut! :]

The following people are some of those who’ve inspired my designs most since I started this eight months ago (or just inspired me to get a little weirder with slugcat biology), among many others for sure, and I thank them for it–but this is simply to bring attention to artists I find cool, and in no way an obligation to interact or anything :]

> @saturncoyote , @carpsoup , @charseraph , @gallusgalluss , @bitsbug , @dopscratch , and @0hmanit (and a special mention to dddeerbo and hunterlonglegs, who’ve since deactivated)!

Survivor: Surprisingly the hardest to pin down the colors for, since nothing with its sibling's palette seemed to match up right (I did have to add in a little blue somewhere for Monk, the beginning of making it clear how much I’m simply going based off of vibes for the colors of scug innards). I consider them, Monk and Gourmand to be part of the same gene pool of slugcats, and even possibly the same colony even if the latter isn't really related, so took a bit of Gourmand's coloring and fit them in with their inspiration: Goniobranchus verrieri. They serve as a bit of an introduction to my ideas of scug traits (i find it really fun how many people have thought to add so many silly sluglike fixtures of biology completely independent of me, buuut here I’m mostly talking about species variation), and like in-game they’re pretty average! They, Monk and Hunter have a couple scars sourced from a piece of Joar's concept art that I'm failing to find, those across the bridge of the nose, under the eyes, and across the rhinophores, respectively, and my Survivor interpretation features many on the back of the neck, as a result of survived lizard bites.

Monk: Their coloring is primarily based off the fact that I associate them with blue fruits, honestly, a bit because I was compelled to establish a familiarity with Rivulet, and lastly inspired by the spots of Goniobranchus kuniei (and geminus, less important to me as one of my characters is a kuniei instead, but more fitting). Between the yellow + blue and the circular marking in the center of their face, they’re meant to bear a little resemblance to an iterator that shares similarities with the characterization I’ve given them, and similar coding of her sibling can be seen on Survivor’s markings around the eyes. As both a “default” slugcat and one whose campaign I haven’t played, though, I can’t say I have much more to point out about em.

Hunter: The whole rot thing made for a really fun time drawing them, and while the color change on their back is a result of this, it’s also an excuse to relate them to Babakina festiva, arguably my favorite sea slug (mostly for sentimental purposes). And to Spearmaster, a fellow messenger slugcat, and it serves as a gradient between Hunter’s pink and the “traditional” color of Rot seen in the DLLs. Aside from their affliction, they’d actually be the plainest in terms of design, as they don’t have any patterns or quirks of body type, just the red + purple and strange lumps + possible malnutrition. I can’t remember if NSH had created them in particular or just...caught + released or something, but it probably wouldn’t be strange for a lab-grown slugcat to be simple like that.

Gourmand: Like the two above, they’re rather plain in terms of coloring and adaptation, and like the two above, I find that fun. I decided it would be nice to avert the “all slugcats being of the same body type, and Gourmand’s out of place as the exception” thing by just...adding more fat to all of them, really. I did want to emphasize their sheer bulk even so, both fat and muscular (not like I couldn’t have still gone further with it, of course, but slugcat anatomy can be a little obfuscating sometimes, and they were intended to look rather plush considering personal size headcanons and therefore the lack of proper gravity), and the thick and flounced mantle looked like a good addition, as per their sea slug Glossodoris hikuerensis. Unlike Survivor and Monk, I didn’t attempt to hold their resemblance to any particular other character (which means a little less to balance out the “default gene pool” thing), so those are all the design notes I have for em.

Artificer: The second slugcat I’ve ever played, or finished the campaign of, my favorite for at least a long time, and the first thing I did was give them yellow accents, the shape of which have troubled me slightly (not quite like the spots or stripes of the others). They’re both a little more appealing and more explosive-looking to me, and considering how early on I played Arti, actually present in some of my older art. It does give them a little resemblance to Saint (completely intentional, two slugcats with strange relations to karma), as well as the fact that its radula is green for familiarity with one of its children (at some point it was going to have all-green markings, even!). I’m generous with their scars, partly because it was fun to overemphasize the one on their face and partly because it does seem like a reckless slugcat, on top of the dangers of its explosive abilities–I’ll probably just keep adding more forever. Mostly-red sea slugs aren’t too common, but Hexabranchus sanguineus works for sure. The ridged, yellow dewlap can expand for combustion purposes, or something along those lines. Arti’s where I began experimenting with a lot of the mildly-offkilter features seen in my interpretation of slugcats, as they’ve once again been a favorite from the start.

Rivulet: I've obviously given other slugcats spots, deeply enjoy the bubbly-soda markings of other peoples' slugcats, and thought seal riv would be cute. Despite not too closely resembling it, they've been government-assigned Hypselodoris bennetti, for color reasons and for a couple sentimental ones. Originally, the colors of every scug were meant to match up with the custom colors I gave them at the beginning of their campaigns, (though Arti, Gourm and Spearmy are the only three who actually apply here, since I've only played through half the slugcats: I gave arti the yellow as mentioned above, gourm brown eyes and spearmy light pink spears, furthered by the outskirts pearl accompanying me and that palette all the way to moon. Tolerance training for eternity in hell cause I already knew about the maroon pearl quest). I initially gave them the colors of the bi flag for fun... but with the limited palette of this image, I was left without pink for a while and decided to see how they'd look in red. I then realized how they now wonderfully matched Moon, and besides, red's a sort of camouflage in deep water! As a side-note, the difference between their eyes and those of others always bothered me a little for anatomical purposes, and the cephalopod eyes were probably influenced by this!

Spearmaster: Inspired as much as possible by @notyourfunnyman ’s wonderful spearmy: designed in a way that helps it fit in with scavengers, at least between the long sensory tentacles, big ruff, back spines and slightly thin/distended anatomy, a form of defensive mimicry. I always had annulate rhinophores in mind, for a little diversity sure, but mostly because the shape reminds me of radio antennae and communication towers (seems fitting for the comms array and being a messenger slugcat)! I started searching for a real-life slug to give them just by looking up their rhinophore shape...and was met immediately and coincidentally with annulate-topped nudibranchs that fit them more perfectly than I could've imagined: Flabellina and surrounding clades, I think Paraflabellina ischitana works very nicely. The orange was completely unplanned, but there wasn’t a place for light pink among the other slugcats’ palettes, and importantly it likens them to both Hunter and Seven Red Suns a little more.

Saint: I am very much a non-furred slugcat enjoyer, with respect to those who aren’t, so figuring out the only visibly furred slugcat was an interesting challenge. I’ve decided that they likely have other, milder adaptations for help in the cold, mainly just more efficient fat storage, and what looks vaguely like fur is instead a bunch of tubercles (called caryophillia, for the second reminder out of three). Their inspiration doesn’t have these, however, Miamira sinuata’s numerous yellow and blue spots (not to mention...whatever’s going on with that shape) and general effect of being the only really green nudibranch I could find were probably perfect for a strange green echo. Not pictured, but their beak-teeth are tiny and flat to make a surface for grinding soft food against with the lack of a functioning radula, which is tipped with a specialized spiny “grapple-hook” for better traction/grip (not to mention the numerous little teeth running down the whole thing).

(Best part of hiding this under a readmore means edits will be seen by all reblogs, I'm mostly sure, because I completely forgot to mention! The spots on their forehead are simple eyes. Their camera eyes appear closed in-game, I like to believe their complex eyesight is rather poor anyways or otherwise reason that they aren't seeing out of those, and while this was far from her REASON for attunement with the world, it does help compensate for mainly viewing it through a canvas of simple light and dark. This, and the fact that their swapped-out "fur" is not only to commit to a lack of hairs but contributes to sensory input!)

Nightcat/Enot: I guess you could say I found the “these two are technically the same person” compelling. (E.g. similar colors, both very strange and enigmatic, and Enot/Inv/Sofanthiel’s remark during the dating sim about getting removed from Arena Mode.) I doubt they’re the only two slugcats in their body, considering humans with DID tend to have more than a few (and I find it very funny that a slugcat bearing resemblance to Nightcat appears in Gourmand’s ending. They’re allowed in the colony and Enot isn’t </3), and I have to credit @faelingdraws ’s art for being what convinced me on it! Their design inspirations come down to trying to balance a few different ideas: making the patterns and palettes of both look oddly similar (special mention to the stars, since those are fun to draw), basing them off of Felimare sechurana and juliae respectively, using blocks of color with the same placement as in Enot’s official art, and specifically making Enot look...biologically reasonable and imperfect, whilst also clearly trying to imitate human displays of emotion (what with...the eyes and blush on that one piece of official art).

Lastly, here’s just a lineup with notes on body shape and size. Most of the nicknames (existing to give a little more space, that’s all) are obvious, and while I can’t remember why I shortened Nightcat to Nox, it is in honor of my friend by the same nickname :]

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

||Survivors of the City||

~~Reserved Resident evil au with @within-the-resort ~~

Leon S. Kennedy was driving down the road while looking ahead and checking the radio hearing nothing. He was sent here for a mission after the last one he's done a few years ago. He got reports of survivors maybe still trapped in a new zombie infested area. Wasting no time, he was driving fast to get to the city and hopes he was not too late. The drive wasn't too long but he hopes to make it in time.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Foxx Nolte's "Hidden History of Walt Disney World"

NEXT SATURDAY (July 20), I'm appearing in CHICAGO at Exile in Bookville.

No one writes about Disney theme parks like Foxx Nolte; no one rises above the trivia and goes beyond the mere sleuthing of historical facts, no one nails the essence of what makes these parks work – and fail.

I first encountered Nolte through her blog, Passport to Dreams Old and New, where her writing transformed the way I viewed the project of these giant, elaborate built environments. It was through articles like this one – about the sightlines from bathrooms! – that I came to truly understand what design criticism means:

https://passport2dreams.blogspot.com/2012/11/the-awkward-transitions-of-disneyland.html

While her work on queue design transformed how I thought about waiting, scarce-goods allocation, and the psychology of anticipation and desire:

https://passport2dreams.blogspot.com/2010/12/third-queue.html

But I really knew her for a kindred spirit when I read her masterful analysis of the historical context and enduring power of the Haunted Mansion:

https://passport2dreams.blogspot.com/2010/05/history-and-haunted-mansion.html

A decade after that Haunted Mansion post, Nolte published the definitive history of the Haunted Mansions, Boundless Realm, the very best book ever written on the subject:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/11/09/boundless-realm/#fuxxfur

This year, Nolte came back with another short, smart, endlessly fascinating history of Disney World, Hidden History of Walt Disney World:

https://www.arcadiapublishing.com/products/9781467156189

There are many histories of Walt Disney World, but none are quite like this. Nolte – who worked at the park for many years – combines her insider's view with her deep historical knowledge and yields up a "hidden history" that will forever change how I look at the built environment and the natural landscape it sits atop.

The path to Walt Disney World – an entertainment juggernaut that occupies a landmass twice the size of Manhattan – was anything but smooth. Its original design – Walt's design – barely survived groundbreaking, dying with Walt himself. Walt's successor, his brother Roy, used the occasion of Walt's death to assert his long-contested dominance over the park, drastically scaling back Walt's ambition for a bizarre residential/utopian community and replacing it with a kind of deluxe Disneyland with the idea of limiting the company's financial risk by re-creating a pre-existing, sure thing money-maker.

But Roy died within a few years of Walt, and the company transitioned from a family business to a managerial one, its direction set by executives who weren't named "Disney." These managers were just as flawed as the Disney brothers, but in much different ways (one long-serving CEO insisted that Disney should stay out of the hotel business, leaving billions on the table for contractors and third parties.

Of course, all of this is happening in Florida, and many of Nolte's funniest, juciest stories play Walt, then Roy, then various CEOs and execs off of flamboyant locals straight out of a Carl Hiaasen novel. In Nolte's capable hands, the many acres of Disney property come alive with the ghosts of Florida eccentrics and conmen who play against the deeply weird Disney brothers and their baffled corporate successors.

The history of Walt Disney World is also a history of the American narrative from the 1960s to the turn of the millennium, especially once Epcot enters the picture and Disney sets out to market itself as a futuristic mirror to America and the world. There's a doomed plan to lead the nation in the provision of an airport for the largely hypothetical short runway aircraft that never materialized, the Disney company's love-hate affair with Florida's orange growers, and the geopolitics of installing a permanent World's Fair, just as World's Fairs were disappearing from the world stage.

With Disney in disarray, corporate raiders smelled blood, and the company found itself on the brink of leveraged buyout hell, triggering another change in corporate leadership with the arrival of Michael Eisner. Nolte's portrait of Eisner is far more nuanced than the presentation in rival histories, surfacing his many forgotten gaffes – but also giving him credit where it was due. When the dust settles on the Eisner era, Disney has more theme parks in one place than can possibly be justified – in an America where workers get almost no paid vacation days, building more theme parks does not extend visitors' stays. It only adds to the expense of keeping those guests entertained during those brief, flitting visits.

The Disney empire is rooted in contradictions. The Disney brothers cordially loathed one another and the company split into "Walt people" and "Roy people" who schemed against one another in secret and sometimes even erupted into open conflict. There's something Hegelian about the Walt/Roy split: Walt went bust trying to run a creative empire that ignored the financials, and fled the ashes of his first venture to work with Roy in California. Roy disciplined Walt with financial rigor, often to excess. When the company emerged from WWII with its outside shareholders in charge, Roy became their champion and Walt's tormentor, with the ability to exercise a firm veto when he couldn't win the day through moral suasion.

Walt sought escape from his brother, proposing a series of ill-starred ventures that eventually became Disneyland. First, he proposed that he would transform his backyard ride 'em train-set into a public attraction that he would personally oversee, so that he wouldn't have to go to the office and let his brother boss him around. Then he proposed buying a locomotive and fitting out a train of railcars with exhibits promoting Disney movies, which he, personally, would drive around America, far from his brother.

Finally, he hit on Disneyland, poaching the company's best animators for a separate firm that Roy was eventually forced to buy from Walt in order to bring it back into the corporate fold. These power struggles, in which Roy first took orders from Walt, before turning the tables, only to have them turned again, culminated in the uneasy detente that characterized the era from Disneyland's opening to Walt's death.

Working with his brother may have made Walt miserable, but he evidently saw the benefit in this Hegelian dialectic, because he became infamous for putting together creative teams who were forever at each other's throats. The storied Sherman Brothers – Disney's star songwriting team – barely tolerated each other. The titans of early Imagineering were often at odds, and Walt took seemingly sadistic glee in forcing artists who disliked one another to work on joint projects.

In focusing on the conflicts between different corporate managers, outside suppliers, and the gloriously flamboyant weirdos of Florida, Nolte's history of Disney World transcends amusing anaecdotes and tittle-tattle – rather, it illustrates how the creative sparks thrown off by people smashing into each other sometimes created towering blazes of glory that burn to this day.

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/15/disnefried/#dialectics

[animatedjen]

Life on Koboh | Jedi Survivor

[bubblybloob]

Some art I made of what I think the slugcat relationships with scavs would be like and who is on the best and worst terms with them.

[thatstoomanysausages]

Cleo and Grian, two of the very few people that haven’t been the boogeyman, ever, were two of the four people who didn’t get infected by the boogeymen in session 7??? Along with Scott, who has been boogeyman before, but refused to act upon the bloodlust???? And this series isn’t scripted????

Can you hear my brain exploding??? BECAUSE I CAN‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

(I’m not this smart and original, I didn’t come up with this realisation, I’m just stating it again)

[anotherfanaccount]

People are finding out about Lee Joon Hyuk being a good actor now.

And I'm just all the more impressed with him.

You look at clips of Stranger and he's so sly there. Perfect piece of ambiguous character. Leaner and meaner.

People brought out his city hunter era pics too. He was so foetus there😭

Designated Survivor is hot one. Didn't care he was the antagonist there. Way too hot for me to bother over that.

And now love scout. Just so soft. He enters the frame and you relax.

[angelmush]

harrowing article . i feel sick and sad

[defire]

I'm naming whump categories that might already be named

Secret whump

Where whumpee and whumper are the only ones in the room that know their true relationship and whumpee is forced to pretend otherwise, much to whumper's enjoyment. Verbal sparring, whumpee sweating at subtle threats, stiffening under whumper's touch, and lying--badly.

Captive whump

Where whumpee is taken captive by multiple whumpers, often in war or gang/organization context. Manhandling, bullying, beat-downs that go too far, getting dragged off to a cell to scream alone.

Domestic whump

Where whumpee lives with whumper, in situations like slavery, pet whump, domestic abuse, child abuse, long-term captivity in someone's house. Super pervasive PTSD, intentionally trained behaviors like kneeling before whumper at the slightest provocation, tense silences, complex feelings about each other.

[klbzplb]

i forgot how to art so have a late thing

[danses-with-dogmeat]

N is for -- Nick Valentine

Oh, Nicky... his classic Hollywood noir vibes never cease to captivate me ❤️ He was one I knew was going to win in the polls, almost with no competition 😅 but, I'm absolutely not complaining.

I hope you all enjoy!

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Pair: Nick Valentine x Reader

Dialogue: "Is this okay?" -- "It's more than okay."

Word: Never

Rating: NSFW (but not explicit, just the subject matter)

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

Nearly all of the wax from the nearby candle had run out, the weak flame shyly waving goodnight to the pair upon the mattress beside it, as they sat, concerned with nothing but the person in front of them. There was no way for you to notice something like that, the subtle way the light flickered over your closed eyelids, while you were so absorbed in the pure bliss of the moment. 

Nick, the gentleman he was at heart, let his hands roam respectfully over the ruffles of your nice, dress clothing. The best you could find in Boston these days, with the wasteland all that it was. Still though, it truly felt like the world that preceded it tonight, what with the fancy dinner in a tucked away corner of the Dugout inn that Vadim had made especially for the pair of you. The moonlit walk on the docks by the water purification plant had helped as well, with the stars reflected above and below; and the soft, pink glow over Nick’s pale skin as you passed the glimmering sign to his detective practice, just as enticing now, as the first time you’d laid eyes upon it. 

Then, as he kissed you in the threshold, holding the door for you to step inside your cozy, Diamond City home, his gleaming golden eyes tentatively asking you, with a drawn-up brow:

Would it be possible for me to come inside, doll?

He’d never have asked it aloud. He wasn’t that kind of man, and maybe… Maybe that’s why you did invite him in. Or perhaps it was the way he looked at you. Like your eyes held the world within them, like you danced on clouds and made the sun shine with your smile… 

And now, the way he seemed to worship you… How he’d lit the candles when you’d stepped away only for a moment, how he’d dialed the radio up enough for you to sway to, but still low enough that he could whisper over the sweet din, tender words that made you blush and grin like a fool in love. 

Because you were. For the first time, you could say it confidently. 

I really am in love with him…

“Darling,” His voice, more breathless than you’d’ve thought possible, sounded close to your still-open lips as he pulled away slightly, “Is this okay?” 

Okay? 

You scoffed internally as you opened your eyes to the glow of his own. 

“Is it… Nick, it’s more than okay.” Your hands found their way to his cheeks, minding the ragged, displaced pieces of metallic flesh thoughtfully, as he’d often remind you to do. “I want this, I want you.” 

You kissed him again, this time more purposefully; fanning all of your affection, your attraction to him, your love into the flames of your fervor. 

“Mm.” Nick mumbled against your kneading lips, and grudgingly, you pulled back, raising a brow in question as your hands fell despondently down to rest in your lap. 

“Doll… you ah, you sayin’ what I think you are?” 

If you hadn’t been blushing already, this certainly would’ve done the trick. 

“I… I think so, so long as we’re saying the same thing.” You chuckled at your wording, all of it sounding more ridiculous out of your mouth than it had been in the safety of your own head. 

“Mhmm, well, I just…” He cleared his throat, was that… nervously? 

Why the hell is he nervous? 

“Just, if we’re gonna go further, I want you to be prepared, is all. Probably not gonna look the same under the trench coat as any of your previous, ah, suitors.” 

You couldn’t help it, a tense chuckle escaped you at that. 

“I say something amusing?” You heard the edge in his voice, but there still was a humorous glint to his eyes. 

“No, I just… previous suitors just…” Trailing off, you looked down into your lap at your fidgeting fingers, biting your lip as you broke eye contact with him. 

A reassuring hand pressed to your face, his smooth, cool thumb brushing over the flush upon your cheek as he gently encouraged you to meet his eyes again.

“I guess I want you to be informed too…” You managed in a small voice. 

“Sole…” He said your name so reverently, he might’ve been a priest and you, an angel. “There’s nothing you’ve got to worry about; of that, I’m certain.” 

“And I could say the same to you, but here we are…” Your hand reached up to cover his, where it still caressed your cheek. 

“I’ve just…” You carried on, too determined to turn back now, “I feel like you should know... I’ve never quite done anything like this before.” 

Nick only blinked for a moment, trying not to look too shocked at your admission.

Not that it really worked.

“You never… And… you wanna start, w-with me?” 

“Is that so surprising?” You asked so quickly, you nearly cut him off, “Nick... I’ve never felt– with anyone– even close to the way I feel about you, with you. There’s no one else I've ever wanted this with.” 

The synth's brows rose high at that, and just for a breath, his mouth hung open as the words refused to leave him.

“That’s… well, ah, that’s awfully sweet of you, and... I can honestly say that I, uh… Well, let’s just say I know the feeling." He chuckled a bit, and you admired the way his eyes crinkled with his grin. "The old Nick, well, he had some flings, sure, but me? Yeah, not like folks around here are lining up to bed this rusty old detective.” 

He rubbed his skeletal hand over the back of his neck, almost shyly as he looked down and away from you.

You could only shake your head at the thought of it.

I literally can't be the only one who's ever been taken by him from the start...

Could I?

You weren't quite sure what it was, if it was nerves or giddiness that made your belly flutter and your breath catch. Perhaps it was a mix of both.

“I’m not sure I believe that, Nick," The words left your lips without your express permission, "but I guess I’ll take your word for it.” 

“What? I wouldn’t lie to you, sweetheart, c’mon…" He couldn't help himself, in that moment you were so precious to him, it was all Nick could do to keep from pulling you into his lap. He'd just have to settle for a sweet peck upon your lips, in the midst of this important conversation.

"All joking aside…" He continued as he pulled back, and you nearly followed him, "you’re sure, doll? Because, well, not quite sure how to put this gently, but… It’s not gonna be the same, with me. I’ve got ah, different... equipment than you’re maybe expecting, and the sensations are of a unique sort, a-and my hands, well, I’ll try to be gentle as I can, you know that, but I–”

“Nick, I know you." You interrupted gently, your fingers stroking over his shoulders as if that could smooth over the worrisome creases in his mind the way it did upon his button-up. "It’s okay, I’m nervous too, but… I’m glad it’s gonna be with you. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

“Hmm.” He hummed with a smile, pressing his cool forehead to rest against yours. “And I can say I feel just the same. I…” 

He looked away again, but it was only for a fraction of a second before he took the chance and his eyes met yours once more. This time, with a confidence you hadn't noticed before.

“I love you, Sole.”  

Your own grin couldn’t be contained, not in that glorious moment as he said the very same words that’d been flitting around your head all night long. 

“Me too, Nick.” You breathed, and kissed him. 

This time, he didn’t pull back, didn’t hesitate, and nearly, he didn’t behave respectfully. 

No, but Nick moved slowly, sensually, as his hands worshiped you the same way his eyes did, praised you just like his soft voice, loved you, as much as you loved him in return.