#very interesting topic

[zimt-deathnote]

Hi, I love your stories and your artwork!! I was wondering, do you struggle with balancing fanart and original art?? I find your way of making Death Note 2.0 AU, as a huge inspiration of how to marry "original" and "fanart" in such a beautiful way.

Do you ever feel the pressure to make strictly original artwork? I fear that my fanart is not taken as seriously as my fanart and would like your take on this.

Thank you, I hope you have a lovely day!!

Hi, thank you so much for the sweet words!! <33

Hmm now that I think of it, I don't feel the pressure to be original but I do feel the itch to draw in niches. Like, if I draw a character (be it fanart or for a commission), I look for what hasn't been done with them yet. Sometimes it's them smiling, sometimes it's a proper fullbody, sometimes it's them being sick and looking damn pitiful. I feel compelled to draw those niches that weren't tackled by anybody yet. And I pemanently feel the (sometimes toxic) urge to make things better but both the itch and the urge are internal sources of pressure.

While I don't feel external pressure in terms of "I need to appeal to people" or "I want to be taken seriously", I often get sad that I don't reach people with my art in a way that makes them talk to me. Cause in the end, that's my goal: Communicate. I often feel like I'm shouting into a void when posting but the silence doesn't make me change the way I draw. I just continue to draw the same silly stupid shit and hope someone chuckles or relates. If not: ah well, maybe next time ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

About your concern that your original art isn't taken as seriously as your fanart (or vice versa, not sure what you meant but I suppose it's "fanart gets more attention than original art"): It's always a struggle to get attention with original art if it's not majestically done or hits a nerve. With fanart, you meet people on common ground and it's infinitely easier for strangers to connect with your art. We go "AH! I KNOW THESE GUYS!" and hit reblog. Which doesn't mean you shouldn't do original art anymore - it's vital that you keep doing it!! Maybe you can reshift your focus on why you're drawing/posting, though. Maybe try to take the seriousness and pressure out of it and just have fun :)

Hope you have a wonderful day as well! ✨

[avvocarlo]

that period in the mid 2010s where everyone was wearing the tiniest socks or none at all. socklets were everywhere man I swear

[avonne-writes]

i might be projecting but i feel like buck has some sort of religious trauma😅😅

In general? Or is this in response to the fic I posted just before you sent this, dear? 😊

I mentioned it in one of my first MotA posts that I think Buck isn’t religious and seems to have something in his past that impacted his attitude towards it negatively. They made it a clear point in the show that, for example, while everyone prays with the chaplain before the Regensburg mission, he’s standing apart from them. So it's possible that he has some religious trauma. I don't really want to add more of my headcanons here because Buck's issues with religion will come up in a future chapter of Reverie.

[starzoomies]

I get that the game designers are working within the hardware design in the gamecube controller; I think your addition shows how hardware influences software design. It might be that a lot of modern controllers are also using the diamond then to make remapping and ports easier, as it is rarer to see pure console specific games nowadays outside of developer flagships.

gamecube was the best designed controller of all time exclusively for the button cluster that gave you easy thumb roll access to all buttons but also gave you the a button as a thumb rest (because it’s the one you press the most) and took into account the frequency with which each button gets pressed in its design rather than doing the stupid diamond design that gives no button priority and rests your thumb in the shitty blank space between buttons

[welcometogrouchland]

[ID in ALT] I've made posts before about Talia/Dick co-parenting Damian moments (will never happen but let me dream) and this came to me in a vision. Took me ages to finish for some reason 😭 and then even longer to post

[roryfrommybabysittersavampire]

I think one of my favorite little details about spike's character is how he treated drusilla. he wasn't just "patient" with her disability, he actively treated it as just another thing about her to love. he verry rarely coddled her or tried to get her to be more present in a situation when she wasn't capable. (I can't think of a single time that he did but i feel like there were some when he was already upset at other people?). he learned to understand what she was saying even when it sounded like nonsense. when she was upset he comforted her, no matter how often it happened. when she started dancing he danced with her.

and we see in buffy 5x20 that it wasn't just his love for dru that made him act like that. when tara was incoherent and opened the window in the van, he didn't just immediately forgive her for burning him, he never got upset in the first place. he yelled, of course, because he was hurt, but as soon as willow started apologizing and trying to explain he just nodded. because it's no biggie! he already understands. some people are just like that, and he doesn't see accommodating that as the big deal that the people around him are making it out to be.

[turtleblogatlast]

One of my favorite headcanons is that Leo grew up watching telenovelas with Splinter.

It just works so well - his bits of Spanish that he spouts randomly, his showy way of apologizing, and, of course, his love for dramatic betrayals all point to this being a very real possibility.

Plus, it’s very cute to imagine a tiny Leo at his father’s side as they both gasp in shock when the show’s eighth plot twist in just as many episodes happens.

[dannybobany]

If Basil ever told her I think she’d get really guilty but also a tiny bit offended, because A: “oh that’s …how you see me?” And B: “THATS how you see me?!?” But then again I can also imagine her asking “why the clown thing?” And Basil just shrugging because he doesn’t know either

Sunny and Basil in the hospital after the confrontation

Sunny (trying to explain headspace): “and in my dreams it seemed like everything was nice but-“

Basil: (still coming down from anesthesia) “in my dreams you were god anddd you kissed me”

Sunny: “…?”

Basil: “can you call the nurse, my stab wound hurts.”

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

George Henry Hodgson + food

Even beyond his famous monologue, Hodgson is at the heart of the show's cannibalism and starvation theme. He is the first to inform us that there is something wrong with the food supplies, the first to suggest the possibility of cannibalism, and the one we see fulfill Ross' prophecy about eating their own boots. And in the end, fittingly, he himself is devoured.

Created for @theterrorbingo prompt: Rot

[morganbritton132]

One of my favorite things about Eliot Spencer is that I have never doubted that he was going to win a fight. You could cross over this show with anything and I still one hundred percent believe that Eliot will win.

Hannibal Lector vs Eliot Spencer? Eliot

Batman vs Eliot Spencer? Eliot

Thanos vs Eliot? Eliot

[way-to-go-you-funky-little-blue]

love how DE gave us Rell and said that autistic people are still individuals worthy of respect and care who do not need to be fixed and instead should be given tools and support catered to their needs

love how DE gave us Amir and said that AuDHD people can still recognize when others look down on them and can know that there is something different with them and can come to feel like they need to rip out the parts of themself that others don't like just to be accepted

love how DE gave us Kaya and-

[lightgamble]

DAREDEVIL | 1.01

Our practice is relatively young, Miss Page, and we are aggressively pursing new clientele.

[gingermintpepper]

“Your hair’s gotten longer.” 

It’s conscious effort that keeps him from tucking the strands behind his ear, from taking the knife at his hip and shearing it all off. He keeps his stance focused, attentive, there’s little else he can do when he’s taken so completely after his mother when it comes to his hair. His father scratches his chin, the clouds of his beard snaking about his finger like mist parting for mountain-peaks. Ares’ chin is still child-smooth. He can feel the tickle of his over-long fringe against his soft jaw. There’s no heart in his chest, but still he feels as though a pulse is lodged in his throat. 

Father sighs, put-upon, disappointed, and Ares feels a slight tremor start in his calves from holding himself so tense. “Well done, Ares. Go clean yourself up and get some rest. Phoebus will want to look you over later.” 

He should be ecstatic to be praised by his father. Over-the-moon with joy. There should be pride emanating from every pore of his body, the blood on his skin should be sweeter than ambrosia. 

Instead, he bows, manages a soft ‘thank you, Father’ around the lump in his throat and immediately flees the room. A mild ‘make sure to trim your hair’ hits the back of his head like a spear through the skull. He almost wishes the great door had slammed on his foot so he would have reason to feel this horrid in his retreat.  

Phoebus Apollo is waiting for him in his infirmary. 

He’s gilded as ever, gold from crown to heel. Perfect like the statues they carve of him in his temples. He has a smile for Ares when he sees him, a crinkle at the edges of his pretty eyes from the weight of his joy. Ares is waiting to see the crack in the marble, to see if that’s the chip that’ll reveal his fangs.

“Brother,” he greets, and his voice is warm - like the arms that embrace him, his voice is so warm, “Welcome back. I’ve heard you’ve done well.”  

There’s a tremble in Ares’ fingers he hadn’t noticed before. Strain from carrying his sword for so many days, a throb from wounds he hadn’t noticed he’d accrued. “Heard? There’s already gossip?” 

Phoebus blinks, disarming, demure, coquettish, “But of course,” and Phoebus’ voice is honey to Ares’ gravel, the juxtaposition is grating on his skin, “It’s Olympus. The gossip began long before you set your course.” Those warm hands lead him further into the room, bodily sits him on the chaise, pulls his helmet from his head. It’s all one, unbroken motion, “It’s summer alas, so I could not watch your war myself, but I hear it was quite the decisive victory.” 

A thousand thoughts run on horseback through his mind then. 

Did Father overhear some terrible slander that pre-emptively disappointed him? Was Ares’ victory merely a rumour, a bet his father hadn’t bothered to take? Was the gossip more enticing than the stark truth? That Ares wasn’t some child toddling about in the shadow of his sister, that his sword and spear weren’t merely for show - he’d think such a thing would warrant celebration. Not -

“Oh my,” Phoebus is in front of him, pleasant warmth more sticky heat with how close he’s pressed himself into Ares’ space. From this angle, Ares can see the multi-coloured flecks of his eyes, like shards of golden glass suspended in ichor. From this angle, with his hand so gently holding his hair, were Ares to blink too hard, he’d swear Phoebus looked just like his mother. “Your hair’s grown long again.” 

He pushes Phoebus off with such force that he bangs into the wall. It’s Phoebus, it won’t make even the impression of a scratch on him, but Ares wishes it would. Wishes he’d hit his shoulder or crack his neck or hit his head just hard enough for all that perfect, gilded gold to bleed. 

“I’m only here for you to heal me,” the tremble in his hand extends to his shoulder now. He flexes and unflexes his palm. Gods what he would give to just have a sword - “Don’t waste time with the pleasant-work.” 

Phoebus huffs, adjusts the fit of his himation, “...Only because we’re meant to be celebrating your victory.” He crosses the room in two great strides, his hair a swirling tempest behind him as he gathers his poultices and wraps. “The only reason I’ll not throw you from the window is because we are meant to be celebrating your victory.”  

There’s not enough acid in his tone for this to truly be a fight. Ares’ jaw clenches, he bites out a terse, “How benevolent.” 

“Aren’t I?” He’s got nectar and his sutures in hand, that focused look falling upon his face when he switches from overbearing busybody to Paeon of the Gods. “Now strip unfaltering Ares, let us see the measure of damage done to your indomitable flesh.” 

(Somewhere between the fifth set of stitches and the gentle frown that crosses Phoebus’ face when he notices the persistent tremble in his fingers, Ares pins his eyes to the far wall and asks, “What does it mean when Father says ‘well done’?” 

Any other sibling would mock before they gave a true response. Any other sibling would laugh and dismiss it, would say that praise is praise and any lingering ill feeling is just the worst of the war still fogging his mind. Phoebus does not answer immediately. He doesn’t make a single sound. The question settles like fetid water between them, unignorable, the scent right there on the tip of the tongue yet firmly unacknowledged. Ares closes his eyes and tries again to settle his squirming so he does not interfere with Phoebus’ work.  The metallic snip of scissors cutting thread breaks the silence. Phoebus bids him to sit up and slides his warm palms up his back until his fingers tangle gently in the ends of his hair. He twists the dark red strands until he’s gathered it all into a neat handful, holding it loosely as he switches his scissors for his shearing blade. “You should know it was not praise,” Phoebus says softly. The first of Ares cut hairs fall like viscera from his head. Phoebus treats each cutting with the sacredness of a blood-sacrifice. If he focused on the moment of tension right before the blade cuts though, Ares thinks he can imagine the agony of his sister’s sacred birth. “It is acknowledgement. Father thinks you’ve done well so he says ‘well done’.”

Gently, Phoebus releases him. Ruffles his head so all the extra hairs fall like red rain to the floor. Ares runs his fingers through the ends now curling against his ear. “Has he ever told you ‘well done’?” 

A laugh, warm and gilded, “No, and it would not make you feel better if he had.” 

Ares swallows down a thousand different questions. Phoebus wouldn’t answer them, he’s infuriating like that. Instead, he clenches his teeth, the phantom of Father’s dizzying tangle of grey cloud-hairs persistent in the corner of his eyes. “Cut it shorter.”

Phoebus doesn’t protest. He never seems to say a word when it really matters.)

[mordredpendragon]

obviously i have my biases, but i'm just curious.

a bunch of knights go through grail quest, but what i want to know is your preference for the GRAIL HERO specifically. bonus points if you tell me why!

as a refresher, here's all of the relevant texts they show up in and undergo grail quest

Percival

Peredur (Welsh) Y Seint Greal (Welsh) Perceval + Continuations (French) Parzival (German) Parceval (Norse) Perchevael (Dutch) Prose Perceval (Middle English) Perlesvaus (French) Merlin and the Grail by Robert de Boron (French) Le Morte D'Arthur by Thomas Malory (Middle English) The Quest for the Holy Grail (Vulgate) (French) The Quest for The Holy Grail (Post-Vulgate) (French) La Tavola Ritonda (Italian)

Galahad and Bors

Le Morte D'Arthur by Thomas Malory (Middle English) The Quest for the Holy Grail (Vulgate) (French) The Quest for The Holy Grail (Post-Vulgate) (French) La Tavola Ritonda (Italian)

Gawain

The Crown by Heinrich von dem Türlin (Diu Crône) (German) Perlesvaus (French)

Lancelot and Arthur

Perlesvaus (French)

links are supplied by the Arthurian Preservation Project!

[jessmalia]

stiles and malia playlist: my boy only breaks his favorite toys by taylor swift

there was a litany of reasons why we could've playеd for keeps this time i know i'm just repeating myself put me back on my shelf but first, pull the string and i'll tell you that he runs because he loves me (he loves me) cause you should've seen him when he first saw me

[loudgaybug]

I think it's interesting parallels how both 4c and zam have fulfilled the role as builders on the server, but while zam rebuilds spawn and seeks to protect it, 4c is building re:spawn, a spawn that seeks to replace the previous one, one seeks to create alongside destruction, while the other seeks to preserve at any cost, opposing destruction, one is the cycle of preservation in response to destruction while the other seeks to break that cycle, I think its interesting how in lifesteal even building relates to conflict, a conflict of ideology that spills into violence and has a physical impact on the world as building itself becomes a statement