#until then. sighs.

[icharchivist]

Am I allowed to say that while I love Logia infinitely, I definitely prefer the masc presenting design over the femme

Not that either is inherently better or worse, it's just my personal preference

you're kinder than i am, i'm totally on the "whoever designed F!Logia i just want to talk why the fuck did you think the boob cages were a great fucking idea"

I adore the fact Logia is genderfluid and race fluid as well, i like that the m!Logia is a human and in theory that f!Logia is non-human is cool.

But it goes back to how i personally really dislike the whole idea of the differences between m/f draph to start with, i dislike how it's a cheap way to sexualize your female characters. But for the most part i kinda grit through it because well, it is what it is, and it's a gacha, they also will rely on their horny fanbase, then so be it.

In theory if the draph didn't come with the hypersexualized design i would love that f!Logia is one since the horns do really look nice on them, and echo their dragon's form, and i find that really cool.

But god the F!Logia body really irks me and the design choices added to the draph body really just are bewildering to me.

There is this desire in m!Logia's design to have them look sick, there's sorts of metal parts around the legs and arms that are supposed to be here to help them walk and move because Logia is supposed to be frail.

And i feel like on f!Logia they redirected those designs details on the boob cage and the corset and personally i really dislike it, and on the legs what was a sort of walking aid on m!Logia is just. sexy compressing boots?

Even the posture is different, m!Logia is hunching a bit forward, they're not standing straight, you really do have the feeling they're not exactly at the peak of their physical condition. f!Logia kinda redirects that on having Logia's head covered in bandage in a way that looks more messy than m!Logia, but otherwise their posture is pretty straight, and with the arms posture, it just puts her breasts and her thighs into focus, in a way that are not present at all on m!Logia.

I'm really seeing it in a Doylist VS Wastonian reasoning (Doylist = what the creators out of the universe had in mind // Wastonian = what the character's reasoning for things in universe are).

On a Doylist perspective, i find it cheap and lazy and there were better way to design the f!design. I'm glad they didn't chicken out of the concept of "since they are the personification of how the slightest details being changed in a timeline can change things drastically, then it makes sense their appearance reflect that if only by switching back and forth between different presentations, in race and gender". But i think it was the laziest possible f!Design that relied too much on sexualization, like they were scared their core women-attracted audience would tune out from the heartful parental story if they didn't make them sexy.

On a Wastonian reasoning. Look. If Orologia wants their female form to be a sexy woman with big boobs who am i to shame. i'll support my parent over any way they want to present themselves. And in the end, sure, i can find it fun that our canonically genderfluid character has such drastic different physical appearance.

But yeah. I prefer m!Logia form in general as well.

I do think that the voice work on both gender really elevate the characters by the end of it anyway and i get to care about Logia when they're in f!form too, it still gives me the impression both Logia are the same Logia, so it makes it easier.

but yeah f!Logia's design personally is something i have problem with. alas.

And my problem starts with the draph bodytype, but i love the horns, so if i was personally to work on redesigning it and keeping the draph body, i'd just personally change their clothes. Like just give them the same type of aesthetic than m!Logia rather than the bdsm gear i beg you. Momdad deserves better.

[alnilaem]

*heavy sigh* ……. Price

[parisoonic]

pals drinking together (hand practice that got out of control)

[swordmaid]

back to the shadows 🌑

inspired by the storm by pierre auguste cot, shri’iia and astarion running away from the sun bc he’s a vampire and she has sunlight sensitivity.

please zoom in to see the details! 🥹🫶

[wtfforged]

i like when hes squishy!

[crowatyourwindow]

Kenji and his cow Hanako II were the best duo from wan change my mind

[hinamie]

every so often i have to relearn how to draw yuuji or he starts fighting me

[robinsceramics]

waiting for sunrise

image description: an anthropomorphic canine figurine, kneeling with its eyes closed. Black semicircles trace the line of its spine.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

If I was in a lucid dream with a ghost, I would simply impress them with my blunt rolling skills

[fearfulandhungry]

[knifearo]

ultimately when it comes to shipping and fandom space treatment of aspec characters i just don't accept "aro/ace people can still date/have sex" as an answer from nonaspecs. like yeah. mhm. okay. now i think we both know that you're not saying that out of real interest in the diversity of aspec experiences. so you can turn in your seventeen-page essay on why and how you plan to examine this character's aspec identity within the context of a romantic or sexual relationship complete with evidence from canon and peer reviews from multiple aspec people within the next week or i'm putting you in the pit from the edgar allen poe story

[capquinn]

ok we've been losing our minds about seeing quinn with kids but imagine him losing his mind seeing you with kids and babies. they're just so naturally drawn to you, smiling and giggling at you. when it's time to leave the kids pout, the babies cry and refuse to let go of you. it breaks his heart a little, but then he thinks about how you have that effect on kids and his heart is just so full and warm. he can't stop smiling thinking about how great of a mom you're going to be one day

It’s something Quinn’s been noticing more and more — how babies and kids always seem to be drawn to you, like there’s some invisible pull. He sees it everywhere, little moments that only fuel the quiet ache he’s been carrying, a bad case of baby fever that just keeps getting stronger.

It was a late summer afternoon at his friend’s BBQ, the kind of day where everything felt a little softer around the edges, the air warm and filled with lazy laughter and the smell of grilling food. Quinn was mid-conversation with a few of his buddies when he glanced over and spotted you down on the driveway, a piece of colourful chalk in your hand, showing his friend’s daughter how to draw a flower.

You were laughing, your voice floating over the soft hum of conversation as you patiently guided her tiny hand.

“Like this, see?” you were saying, helping her press the chalk down firmly. “And a little harder here — see how it makes the colour brighter?”

The little girl, determined to get it right, nodded with intense concentration, her face scrunched up in that serious way kids get when they’re trying so hard. She pressed down on the chalk with all her might, the green and purple smudges already staining her fingers. And you, just as focused, knelt beside her, not minding that your knees were getting chalky too.

Quinn couldn’t look away. The sight of you like that, so at ease, laughing with a child who was barely up to your waist, tugged at something in him. He imagined a version of this scene in a few years’ time — maybe it was a little girl with your eyes, or his determined frown, a toddler who insisted on doing everything by herself. He could already see the two of you, that same effortless connection, sharing these small, beautiful moments, and his heart did this odd little flip that made his chest feel warm and tight at the same time.

The little girl tugged on your hand, proudly holding up her chalk drawing. “Look! I did it!”

Your smile lit up, and you nodded, leaning closer to inspect it. “You did! That’s amazing! I think you’re a pro at this, honestly.”

Quinn’s friend nudged him with an amused grin. “Man, she’s a natural. I think the kids like her more than us.”

Quinn only nodded, distracted, not fully hearing what was said because his mind was spinning. It wasn’t just that you were good with kids — it was the way you seemed to understand them, to genuinely enjoy being there with them, in their world. And suddenly, this idea started to blossom, the thought of a life where this wasn’t just an afternoon at a BBQ but something that happened every day. He pictured you like this, kneeling in your own driveway with a little one by your side, his heart pounding with a kind of certainty he’d never felt before.

Lost in thought, he didn’t realise he was smiling until you caught his eye and gave him a playful little wave. Quinn’s chest tightened, a shy grin pulling at his lips as he waved back. He barely heard his friend teasing him about being “smitten” because in that moment, all he could think about was how right this felt, how natural, and how he wanted that future with you more than anything.

It happened again a few weeks later at the grocery store, a place Quinn usually breezed through, his list memorised, rarely giving more than a glance to the colourful chaos of the cereal aisle. But that day, he was momentarily caught up, staring at the endless choices, debating between two boxes. That’s when he heard it — a tiny giggle that somehow cut through the chatter of shoppers, the hum of the store. Glancing over, he saw you a few feet away, your attention fully focused on a baby sitting in a shopping cart beside you.

The baby, not much older than a year, was staring up at you with wide, amazed eyes, completely entranced as you wiggled your fingers and made a soft, silly noise, your face lit with an easy smile. You repeated the sound, and the baby’s mouth dropped open, then let out another round of giggles, that beautiful, innocent laughter that would soften anyone’s heart.

Quinn couldn’t help but pause, frozen mid-decision, just watching. The baby’s mother had been focused on reading the back of an oatmeal box, scanning ingredients with the usual distracted look of a tired parent. But after a moment, she glanced up, noticing the small, quiet exchange unfolding beside her cart. Her gaze softened as she took in the sight of her baby reaching toward you, chubby fingers stretching, drawn to the warmth in your playful smile,

And then Quinn’s heart did that strange, achy thing it had been doing lately, where he felt both immensely full and oddly vulnerable, like he’d stumbled onto a vision of the future without realising it.

He imagined you like this, but with your own baby — a little one with his dark hair and your bright smile, or maybe a mix of everything he loved most about you. The two of you would share that same joyful bubble, so completely at ease with each other, lost in some private little world only you two would understand.

Quinn placed both cereal boxes into the basket, feeling a strange warmth build in his chest, one that he couldn’t seem to shake. His fingers tightened around the handle of the basket, the weight of the thought filling him with a kind of quiet longing. It was such a simple scene, one he’d seen a dozen times with strangers, but with you…it was different. He was already imagining a life that was filled with moments like this, and the ache that came with it was exhilarating, a reminder of how badly he wanted this — wanted you, wanted this life with you and all that came with it.

“Hey, are you ready?” you asked, glancing over and catching his gaze, breaking him out of his reverie.

He blinked, realised the mother and baby had moved on, then nodded, feeling a soft blush creep up his neck as he tried to play it cool.

“Yeah, just… got distracted,” he muttered, but he couldn’t hide the small, knowing smile that stayed with him all the way to the checkout, the warmth of the thought still lingering as he followed you down the aisle.

The feeling roots itself deeply, one he can’t quite ignore as he watches you with his cousin’s 8-month-old, who’s been wide-eyed and mesmerised by you since the moment you walked in. The baby, fussy with everyone else, settles effortlessly in your arms, chubby fingers curling tightly around your shirt, her small head resting trustingly against your shoulder.

Quinn’s cousin chuckles, watching you both. “You’ve got some kind of superpower,” she says, amused.

You smile down at the baby, shifting your arms to hold her closer as you sway gently, instinctively.

“She just needed someone to chat with,” you murmur, your voice soft and soothing.

You don’t see Quinn across the room, his gaze fixed on you, like he’s trying to memorise this scene, the tenderness in the way you hold the baby, your gentle laugh, the look in your eyes. His chest tightens, that strange warmth filling him again that’s both beautiful and a little overwhelming.

From beside him, his mom nudges his arm lightly. “You’ve got a look there, Quinn,” Ellen says quietly, watching him watch you.

Quinn gives a faint smile, eyes still locked on you, almost in disbelief.

“She’s… good with kids,” he says softly, as if the realisation itself has him feeling a little unsteady. “Just — look at her.”

Ellen’s face softens, a knowing smile lighting her eyes. “Some people just have that kind of warmth. Kids feel it. She’s going to be such a wonderful mom someday.”

Quinn glances at her, but his gaze quickly finds its way back to you, his heart doing an uneven thud as he watches you look down at the baby, cooing softly as her eyes close. You look up then, meeting his eyes, and you send him the sweetes smile, one that makes him feel like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

His mom places a hand on his back. “You’d make a wonderful dad, too, Quinn,” she whispers.

Quinn swallows hard, feeling a sudden swell of emotion he wasn’t prepared for. His mom’s words settle over him, and he feels it, the truth of them, sinking in deep. He’s always thought about it in passing, but the whole idea feels closer, more real, like something he could almost reach out and touch.

“You really think so?” he murmurs, voice barely audible, eyes flickering to his mom.

Ellen nods, her hand a steady presence on his back. “Absolutely,” she whispers, surprised that he even has to ask, her smile softening. “Have you two talked about kids lately?”

Quinn’s face flushes slightly as he keeps his gaze on you.

“A little,” he admits quietly, a small, almost shy smile creeping onto his face. “I mean, I think about it all the time.”

Ellen chuckles, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. “Well, whenever you’re both ready, you’ll be wonderful parents.” She pauses, trying to keep her smile from widening. “I can see it already. A Baby Hughes with those gorgeous dark waves,” she laughs, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

Quinn shakes his head, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he gently swats her hand away. “Mum,” he murmurs, trying to hide how much he’s secretly loving the idea.

Ellen laughs, her hand falling to his shoulder in a gentle squeeze. “No pressure, of course,” she says, though there’s a glimmer of excitement in her eyes that she can’t quite hide. “But when you do, I know you two will make a great team.” She looks back over at you, voice dropping. “You both have so much love to give.”

As he watches you across the room, swaying gently with his cousin’s baby asleep in your arms, he can’t shake the feeling that someday, hopefully soon, this picture will be a little different — a little closer to home.

Later that night, in the cosy guest room at his parents’ house, you lie curled up against Quinn’s side, watching the soft flicker of the TV in the dim light. His arm is wrapped around you, fingers tracing gentle patterns on your shoulder as you both unwind from the family gathering.

In his other hand, he’s casually scrolling through his phone, when he pauses, then turns the screen your way. It’s a picture his cousin posted of her daughter in your arms at the party. In the photo, you’re smiling softly, looking down at the baby as she rests against you, and the sight of it, even through a screen, makes his chest warm.

“That’s a good picture,” he murmurs, his voice quiet, thoughtful.

You smile, curling up closer to him, resting your head against his shoulder. Something about that moment earlier had felt so natural, so easy. And as you look at the picture, that feeling stirs again, warming you in a way that feels both exciting and a little nerve-wracking.

After a pause, you swallow softly, gathering your thoughts, and then, before you can second-guess yourself, you say, “hace you thought about having… you know, a baby? Starting a family?”

Quinn tenses for a split second, and you can feel his heart pick up, thumping faster under your cheek. He pulls back a little to look at you, eyes wide with surprise.

“Did my mom talk to you?” he asks, a hint of suspicion, as if he’s caught onto something.

You let out a laugh, the tension breaking instantly, and sit up, leaning back against the headboard as you turn your body toward him, raising an eyebrow. “No, why would she?”

Quinn rubs the back of his neck, chuckling softly. “She, uh… she sort of mentioned it earlier. Said she thought we’d make a great team as parents.”

He glances down, a hint of a blush dusting his cheeks, and there’s a shy look in his eyes when he looks back up at you. The gentle vulnerability in his expression makes your heart squeeze, and you can’t help but smile.

“So,” you say, voice small, “what do you think?”

He shifts a little closer, his hand sliding to the back of your knee, fingers tracing gentle patterns. “I’ve actually thought about it a lot lately,” he says, his voice steady, direct, like he’s sharing a part of himself he’s been holding onto for a while. He glances at you, his hand giving your thigh a soft squeeze.

There’s a quiet intensity in his eyes, an openness that makes your heart flutter. “I just… I can see it, you know?” he continues, a faint smile tugging at his lips as his eyes linger on yours. “Us, with a little one. And…” He chuckles, pausing, looking a bit shy, “I wouldn’t mind if that happened sooner rather than later.”

You feel a warmth rise in your cheeks, the blush creeping up as you take in his words, your heart skipping a beat. He’s watching you with such earnestness, a quiet hope in his gaze that matches the longing you’ve kept close to your own heart.

You say it softly, almost like a secret, “I’ve been thinking about it, too.”

The words settle into the quiet between you, filling the space with a warmth that’s been building, unspoken, for weeks. Neither of you rushes to say more, just letting the admission linger, letting it shape into something real and close.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

i wrote homeward a little while ago that sorta touches on this too if u wanna check that out too hehe

requests are open - let’s daydream!

[teh-inggris]

I need to chew both of them like a stress toy

[msbarrows]

Argh... so I've been reading in Scum Villain's Self-Saving System (SVSSS) fandom recently. And it's given me a new pet peeve about formatting and TTS. A bunch of the authors in that fandom are using black lens brackets to indicate the 'system' voice, 【like this】, because the original novels do, and, yeah... unfortunately that's not always compatible with TTS (definitely not with google's TTS engine, and testing with various other online TTS engines gives mixed results).

Guess how I know they're called black lens brackets.

…

Go on, guess.

…

YUP! They get read aloud! Every. Single. Time. They. Appear. Open black lens bracket like this close black lens bracket.

Please resist using the novel's formatting and just use regular square brackets instead! Which do not get read aloud unless there's a space in a bad position, [ like this ]. If you want to be fancy, maybe use <tt>...</tt> formatting or a monospaced font such as courier to make it stand out more as something mechanical.

[Like this]

Which reminds me, another bad formatting choice I've bumped into multiple times (and I can't remember if I've mentioned this one before) is where authors use something <like this> to indicate things like speaking mind-to-mind, or that someone is speaking a foreign language (despite the actual text still being in English). Cool. Neat. Also not TTS compatible, unless you like repeatedly hearing less than and greater than mixed into the text. But guess what - there are already perfectly serviceable ‹single› and «double» angled quotation marks that could be used instead - and since they're recognized as actual quotation marks, they don't get read aloud! Shocking, I know.

Those angled quotation marks could also be another decent option for indication of things like the system voice, obviously.

«Like this»

Thanks to everyone who is already using more TTS-compatible formatting, and to anyone who decides to make some changes to theirs after reading this :)

[strangerstilinski]

thinking about eddie first thing in the morning. how he's notoriously difficult to wake. always straining to remain in his dreams, whether intentional or not, petulantly reluctant to break through that heavy blanket of sleep. so by the time he shuffles out into the kitchen, mismatched socks pulled on his feet to shield his toes from the poorly insulated laminate in the trailer's kitchen — you've probably already been up for a while

the fading scent of his aftershave from the day before just barely lingers, overtaken by the smell of last night's cigarettes and a warm, musky scent brought out by sleep that's just eddie. it never fails to make your stomach flip, it happens every time he plasters himself to your back to leech some of your warmth. and the way his fingers always manage to find the bare skin of your hip beneath your shirt, even with his eyes half-closed. it's like clockwork, the grunted "g'morning" that gets muffled against your skin as his face has already burrowed into the warm curve of your neck.

then there's the innocent, sleepy kiss he places to your neck before the smell of freshly brewed coffee actually processes in his brain enough to realize you've got a full pot ready and that you're already grabbing his favorite mug from the cabinet and filling it up for him, completely unprompted, and he'll audibly groan in thanks, god he loves you.

you separate only because you both know that he absolutely cannot be trusted *not* to spill hot coffee over the rim of his cup when he's still half-asleep, but that sliver of distance allows you to take in the mussed bedhead of his curls, flat to his head on one side and fluffed up beyond belief on the other. you're wordlessly straightening out his bangs with gentle fingers as he takes the first few long swigs of his coffee.

and with a little caffeine in your favorite boy, he finally perks up, becomes a little more himself. and that's when your day truly starts

[decamarks]

I think if I could just arbitrarily summon any kind of video game into existence, it would be a sprawling visual novel/roleplaying game (i.e. Disco Elysium) with an exhaustive in-game visualization of its dialogue trees. Every internal variable and conditional branch would be made external for your perverse voyeuristic pleasure. It would essentially be the same experience as reading a game's raw script—just prettier, and you can click on stuff.

A game like this would be exhausting for literally every party involved. That's why it would rule.