#waow he looks great

[puckpocketed]

13/09/2024 - Rookie Faceoff || SJS vs UTA

macklin celebrini scores his first goal in teal, assisted by luca cagnoni -> baby sharks celebrate

[ID: gifset of San Jose Sharks prospects vs Utah HC celebrating after a goal. Macklin Celebrini stands alone after scoring. Teammates Collin Graf (#51), Will Smith (#2), Quentin Musty (#13), and Luca Cagnoni (#42) join him one at a time, coming together to bump fists and celebrate. Musty skates at the group with speed and throws his arms around Graf and Celebrini, and firmly pats Celebrini's head just once. They break away after exchanging a few words to skate along the bench and collect more fist bumps, led by Celebrini. /. End ID]

[toestalucia]

great news everyone cygames gave the people another month to start & read 177 chapters of gbf before dropping the most important story update of all time

[rimqueen]

LIMERENCE !

ft. jimmy x fem!reader

tags. implied/reference rape, failed rape recovery, talk of incest and underage but not in regards to reader, public humiliation, obsession on readers part, sort of stalking, one mention of suicide, slight boot kink, just humiliation tbh..

note. waow.. don’t know what this is.. unedited and kind of sucks.. rbs n feedback always appreciated. ignore any typos!

What do you do when your rapist is the most handsome man you’ve ever had the pleasure of fucking?

He wasn’t ugly or fat and he wasn’t the tallest, but everyone has their shortcomings.

You feel like a total fraud, picking at the lint on your sweater as you listen to a girl bawl her eyes out while recounting the time her father raped her in the back of his pick-up after school.

The woman before her was gang-raped by her delinquent boyfriend’s lackeys, the man to her left is the victim of his middle-school teacher, another lady pushed out two rape babies from her deadbeat husband before she managed to get away from him.

They’re all ghosts; beaten down, so broken, and you are you.

The same as before, if not a little bit better.

In fact, you’ve stopped getting those night terrors where all your teeth fall out.

You got raped and everything just felt right.

Like he knocked something into place, dug so deep into your cunt he rewired your brain.

Your therapist said this would be a chance at community, some place to bring you comfort, like-minded individuals who have gone through all the same things you have. Circle time for victims of brutal, life-ruining—life-changing rape, you should fit right in.

But you have never felt more out of place.

Pick-up girl can’t continue, she’s choking on her words, they come out her throat like the creak in an old floorboard. The box of Kleenex is significantly lighter.

“We can move on,” says a lady with kind eyes, shifting on her chair to face your way.

They all look at you with their haunted, dark eyes, gaping black chasms that lead right to fucking hell. God. You’re going straight to hell.

“Erm..” You squeeze your hands into fists. You unstick your thighs from the plastic chair. You count to ten and try not to think about how nice he looked on top of you.

“It’s okay, honey, take your time.” She places her hand on your knee. You think of him. His hand on your thigh, squeezing your tender flesh until it came right off the bone, the way it inched up your skirt.

You go stiff and she notices, gasping softly like she has done something wrong. And she has. She’s turned you the fuck on, the warmth of her encouragement going straight to your cunt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think about—“

“No, it’s okay,” you strain to get it out, avoiding her eyes like sympathy is a highly contagious disease of some kind.

They’re all feeling bad for you when you have finally started to feel good about yourself.

Man, you suck.

“He was my boyfriend.” Your voice cracks for dramatic effect, hold the applause. You wish he was your boyfriend. “He did it almost everyday.” You wish he did it everyday. “It would be after I came back from work…” It would be great stress relief after your Friday shift, it’s nearing Christmas and everybody is crushed into the stores like cattle in free stall barns.

You open and close your mouth, unsure of where to go from here, so you stand up and the chair screeches against the ground. “Sorry… I’m so sorry—I need to go.”

You leave and it looks real.

Like you are a real victim with a real story and very real feelings. The type you see on TV, dressed in white, trembling like lambs, abhorred by the notion of anything sexual. Squeaky clean like you should be.

For just a moment you feel normal. Your therapist is not eyeballing you like a mildly fascinating organism in her Petri dish. Your friends don’t give you a funny look when you say you’re fine—great actually. Your mom is not hanging her head in secondhand shame when you refuse to file a police report, disturbed when she unearths your bloodied underwear beside the prayer book you keep tucked beneath your pillow, rosary nowhere to be found.

They mutter quietly amongst themselves.

Poor thing she can’t even speak about it, it must’ve been awful, I can’t even imagine what she went through, so young.

You can’t speak about it, you really can’t, you might start reciting wedding vows if you think about him longer than a second.

Your loneliness is like the crack in a China cup, fine and glossy on the outside but delicate from years stowed away in show cabinets, passed from bidder to bidder. He pressed golden lacquer into the seams of your fracture, put you back together like you were something worth holding, something to be used.

Stored away in your bag, a sacred place your mother has not yet invaded, is his work ID. You say his ordinary name like you’re uttering a prayer, you drag the jagged tip of your nail over his tiny photograph. His hair and beard are longer than you remember, he’s handsome underneath the scruff, a strong nose and a broad chest. The collar of his company-issued jumpsuit is half popped, and he’s scowling at the camera like it’s an inconvenience.

There’s no phone number on it and part of you is glad you won’t have to call into the company, requesting Jimmy like The Pony Express is a sex hotline and he’s their newest, youngest, bustiest doll.

You wait outside the warehouse instead. It’s a big old thing, the last of its kind, muted in colour, blending into the silver skies. You look at the horse who sits on top like a weathervane on a cathedral, oversized features and the stomach of a pudgy toddler.

Every day from two to eight you circle the block a few times, take a window seat in the cafe opposite until the staff begin to stack tables and chairs, sit at the bus stop beside the same lot of people who wonder why you never get on.

The horse watches from above, wide eyes glowing in the dark beside the moon, unsettlingly reverent, sparkling with diamond-sharp logic, like it knows something you do not, a silent witness to your dog-like devotion.

One day, you leave work early and find a truck parked in front of the hulking, metal mass. Two men are unloading it, one is old and the other is blond, but they don’t matter to you. A third steps out of the cab, your breath gets caught in your throat, scared your exhale might blow him away.

You don’t look when you cross the street.

“Excuse me?” You call out, you’re sure he hears you, but he’s choosing to ignore it. “Are you Jimmy?” You ask once you're close enough to go unnoticed.

“Depends,” he says in that voice you have heard so many times in your dreams, rough like the serrated edge of a knife. “Who’s asking?” He hasn’t looked up once, disinterested and completely unaffected while you burn just being near him.

There is a woman near those other two men, leant down amidst some crates, a clipboard pressed to her chest. Her face is white and her nose is long like the snout on a hound dog, her charcoal eyes are sad and droopy.

You wonder if he has touched her like he has touched you. Either she just has one of those faces or she can take your slot at circle time. She would fit right in with the rest of them. Herbivores hiding in long grass.

“I’m asking.” You clear your throat, he looks up at you with his lidded eyes and you don’t look away, openly admiring the colour of them, how they look in the sunlight. There are a million things you want to ask him.

Was it just me? Was I your first and only? Have you been thinking about me? Do you want a summer wedding or a winter one? Vanilla or chocolate cake? We could do floral arrangements in your favourite colour.

He seems to grow slightly antsy when you continue to stare, Adam’s apple bulging out of his throat when he swallows. He looks like he’s started to feel sick, like he’s waiting outside the principal’s office after breaking a window.

It’s different, he’s different in the day. Long gone is his barbed tongue and wolf-like smile. “What do you want?”

You.

Your fingers toy with the rounded edges of his employee card, if you hand it to him now it’ll all be over.

“Listen,” Jimmy starts, lowering his voice, “if it’s something I did, I’m sorry.” Apprehension twists his mouth into a frown, and he doesn’t sound all that sorry. “But you can’t show up—“

“Here.” You fish his ID from your purse, reluctant to hand it over. His fingers don’t brush yours like you hoped and he seems all too eager to get rid of you.

“Thanks, cool,” he says with all the enthusiasm of a funeral celebrant, tucking it into his breast pocket for safekeeping, his disengagement is a knife in your chest. You’re a stain on a shirt he has no intention of cleaning.

“Yeah…” Does he not remember you? Is there nothing about you that is worth remembering? Were you not good? “Cool.” The longer you stand there the more likely it seems he’s going to grab a broom to chase you away. “Well, bye, Jimmy.” You blink at him sadly, expectantly, longingly. This is it.

You walk away and that was it. That was it. You’ll never see him again, you have no reason to be caught lurking outside the warehouse.

You start to think long and hard on your way home about the fuck is wrong with you.

Everyone is shaped by the sum of their exposures. A product of the people you meet, the enemies and friends you make, who you go home to. Every smile, every scowl, every bad habit is the reflection of another. But to be completely fucking honest, you think you’re just like this. The root of the problem is you, it stems from deep inside your very core, a fundamentally fucked up instinct that makes life a fucking inconvenience. It turns everything into a complication and that is why you’re like this.

God, you wonder what it would be like to wake up and think about normal things like normal people who do not have this constant flurry of wrongness whirling around inside of them. You want to go through life like you’re meant to be on earth, not like an alien species that crash-landed here and never managed to get out, unable to acclimatise to the human way, not like you’re a manufacturing defect.

You want to laugh at the right moment, you want to know what everyone else is thinking, you want to be raped so badly. Again and again and again. You can’t be normal if you can’t stop thinking about the most abnormal thing about you, that just defeats the fucking point.

Your friends think it is their fault for bringing you home that night, for letting you go home all on your own, for getting drunk and leaving you sober. They feel responsible for the best night of your life and you hate it. You hate that they don’t get it. You had a good time in your own right, they don’t need to feel guilty—Or maybe you need to start thinking how they do. Like normal people. They’re horrified when they’re supposed to be horrified. Their minds are tailored to the tastes of this world, yours is somewhere else, some rotten, tumultuous, toxic planet.

Therapy is supposed to be helping you learn how to be even slightly human, little by little, step by step. But you can’t take it in small doses, you need all of this wrongness gone at once like a decidual cast. It doesn’t make you lighter, it doesn’t put a pep in your step, it doesn’t do shit.

So you keep going to wait outside the Pony Express warehouse. You camp out in that cafe all day on days off from work. The staff know you by name, six holes punched in your reward card, special access to the staff bathrooms. You’re set for stalker life.

He never comes again, but you do everyday.

The nights are getting darker, stars bleed into the sky as the sun dims, the moon is larger than usual tonight and if you weren’t so taken by the brightness you would be quicker to notice the dark figure in your peripheral.

When you finally do, you think it’s the devil, cloaked in darkness like the devil probably should be. “Oh, it’s you.” You try to hide the smile in your voice as you watch him put a cigarette between his crooked lips.

“Yeah, it’s me.” He’s unbothered in tone, indifferent in manner. It would be flattering that he remembered you if he hadn’t said it like that.

“Do you remember me?”

“Yeah, from last week.” Jimmy’s eyes glow radioactive in the dark like tiger eyes when he lights his cigarette, the flame flickers and casts him uneven light, softening the right side of his face with a golden haze and plunging the left into shifting darkness. “You stalking me?”

“No!” You say all too quickly. “No, no… I study at the cafe opposite you.”

“Okay.” He was joking you think, making fun of you maybe, you wouldn’t be able to tell either way. “Studying the menu or what?”

That was a joke, that has to be a joke. It’s your cue to laugh so you force one out, it crackles unnaturally. “I wish, but I meant before that, do you remember me from before that?”

You look different under the street lamps, they do nothing for your skin, light pools unfavourably in every pore, the jewel-toned dress you picked out today must look washed out.

Jimmy’s lazy eyes rake up your body, and then he shakes his head slowly. “No.” Even to someone like you, it’s clear he has no interest in taking this conversation anywhere.

“It was in November, the beginning, I was on my way home, and it was late...” You should’ve done this at circle time. “You grabbed me and I let you take me, and then after you told me to walk down the block and call a cab, and I did.”

“Hm,” Jimmy shrugs, though you notice his hand trembling as he raises his cigarette to his lip, “nope, don’t remember that.”

Frustrated, you clench your fists, wondering what could jog his memory—Did he do it often? Nab a girl off the street corner so regularly that he didn’t remember a single one, faces all blurring together, the same hole with a different set of tits.

“Remind me again.”

“How?”

“Take off your jacket.” Jimmy’s cigarette gets crushed beneath his boot, he’s looking at you now. Really looking at you, and this is where it all goes pear-shaped. Your whole life is pear-shaped of course, but this is just fucking sad. You beg yourself to think it over, to think of the dozens of security cameras on this street alone. None of it seems too important when he’s here.

And then, you shrug your coat off your shoulders.

“Okay.” You’ve always been obedient because you have no reason to say no, you don’t care if he’s going to mug you, at least he’s talking to you now. At least he is looking at you.

“Think I’m gonna need to see more to know who you are,” he says, detached like there are a million better things he could be doing with his time, but he’s spending it with you. “Take off your dress.”

“What…” You’re shaking slightly in the cold, wind stings your cheeks and the tip of your fingers have started to ache.

“Take off your dress, I might know you.” Fair enough. He’d seen your ass more than your tits and your tits more than your face. It was forced into a flat pillow for three quarters of the night, between his thighs for the last quarter.

You take off your dress, edging it off your ankles. He drapes it over his arm - he’s got enough humanity to not leave your pretty clothes on the pavement.

It’s cold. The type of cold that makes your brain freeze, the type of cold that only Siberian Huskies and yetis enjoy.

And yet here you are in nothing but your cotton panties, t-shirt bra and boutique winter booties looking like the most expensive kerb crawler in all the world.

“Turn around,” Jimmy hums, his hand is cold but not as cold as you, tracing along your spine when you listen like a good girl.

From here, the horse is watching you. Seeing it all, cartoonish eyes forced in your direction. It’s late so the cars that whiz past have no intention of stopping, some houses have their lights on.

Humiliation prickles your skin, it could be the cold, but you don’t think the cold gets inside of you like this. What are you doing? What are you doing? What is mom going to think? What is dad going to do? What are they going to tell your family when you’re sectioned for Christmas?

”That’s good,” his voice comes out in a whisper, “take ‘em off and get on the ground.” Lukewarm hands slide over your hips, checking you over like a piece of meat.

“Okay,” you whisper back to him, and you’ve gone so far there’s nothing to lose, stepping out of your underwear and doing just as he says.

There’s no praise from Jimmy’s end and you don’t expect any. His stern face, his flat tone, it’s all unforgiving like this cold, hard sidewalk is on your hands and knees.

“Jesus, there something wrong with you?” He sounds surprised and you don’t know what you’ve done wrong. (You do know. You do know.) Isn’t this what he wanted? “Sorry,” Jimmy says, not sounding sorry at all, “I shouldn’t say that, you’re not all there.”

Your head isn’t entirely intact, and there is this worm hole that eats away at your insides, but you’re here. You’re here and you’re on the ground, on your knees with your cunt bared to him. Does he not see you?

The horse sees you, perpetually wide-eyed and forever watching.

Something cold, like the nose of a dog, presses against your pussy. It takes you a moment to figure out that it’s the toe of his boot, the leathery texture is wet almost, smooth and still textured, grainy. The cold is making it too hard to focus on the feeling of it nudging your swollen clit. You close your eyes and focus on anything but your hands burning on the ground, how the wind is going straight to your bones.

You’re going to make this worth it. You will. You’ve been wet for months and you won’t let it dry up so quickly, not when the cause of the leak is here to plug it up.

Just as you’re about to push back into him, grind your clit into the leather, show off how much you want him—He kicks you down, your body skids forward, elbows scraping on the cement. It’s painful, but you’re so cold, so shocked, so confused.

Quietly, you hear him under his breath. “What the fuck… Fuckin��� freak.” You don’t know if it’s in awe or disgust. He drops your coat and dress over the flat of your back, you scramble to put them on. “Why did you do that?” Jimmy asks, and he is looking at you like you’re crazy, like he’s disgusted.

You can’t tell if it’s a trick question. “Because you told me to.” It’s a simple answer, the only answer. Your chest heaves, teeth chattering as you stand on aching legs. God. It feels like your bones are fragmenting.

“Are you a dog?”

“No.” You check your pockets to find some loose change is missing.

“Then you didn’t have to do that, it’s not fuckin’ normal.”

Rape is not normal. And neither is asking seemingly nice, well-meaning girls to undress in sub-zero temperatures. But you don’t want to talk back, you don’t like to talk back, you don’t want to scare him off.

“Okay… Then, I’m sorry.”

“What…” His tone lilts in what might be confused laughter, everything you say is a twist or turn in a tangled thread he can’t quite follow. “Don’t say sorry, no, I don’t—I don’t know, just go home.”

“You’re not going to take me?” You gaze at him sadly. Wanting, yearning. “I think I’m going to kill myself tonight,” you proclaim softly, not because you want to make him feel bad, but because you don’t know what to do with yourself and he is distant enough to confide in.

“Alright,” Jimmy shrugs, he lights another cigarette, the smoke billows out of his thin lips, lined with the slightest smile. “Tell me how that goes.” Well, now you feel stupid and wish to take it back. Then, before he goes, he asks a little too casually, “Your dad touched you or something?”

“No…” You answer slowly, wondering if you should’ve said yes, if that was what he wanted to hear, gauging his reaction like you’ll be able to read it at all.

“Right.” He laughs, and his shoulders are still shaking in disbelief as he wanders into the dark like something out of a nightmare.

You look over to the horse, it tells you he’ll be back.

Considering he works there and all you thought the same, so you’ll be back alive and well.

[scn-thedog]

another pvpciv thought dump, except now it's focused on character design waow...

evbo has lamb/sheep features . peace and love on planet earth!! the more times he dies the more it becomes noticeable (to symbolize how he's dehumanized and treated like a farm animal. smiley face) so like in ep1 he only has lamb ears and itty bitty tiny horns. yes i know lambs don't have horns because they're baby sheep shh shhh

tabi is this towering figure in contrast to everything. she sticks out as a character because she doesn't fall back on violence immediately like others do and because she's looking for the truth and all that jazz, so i think her being like WAY taller than everyone else in the cast would be a nice touch that hints at this. red would be prominent on her design like not just in clothes and all red i like .. a motif.. because despite not being immediately violent. she's still out for blood in one way or another. also contrasts great with evbo's titular green

princezam is the only one who has sharp teeth. like i'm talking razor sharp. he doen't smile with his teeth because then his true nature or whatever is visible to the eye so that's why he's perpetually smiling like this -> :] . i don't know how to translate his design into drawing so i just went the boring unoriginal route and made him human ...uhrm anyways. he wears a LOT of jewerly (being a prince and all) but more specifically he wears a lot of rubies and gold. a lot of religious imagery like crosses are incorporated into my design for him too but most prominent features is his jewerly and the red/gold duo. the gold hints at the golden sword level and the red at the blood on his hands. wears a lot of white too to hint at trying to mask his actions as good. thumbs up

uhm i'll post more later maybe

[pupwashing]

daisuke rambling and just never shutting up during sex. he puts his hand on your tummy and says like “holy shit i can feel my dick inside of you holy fuck that’s so hot what the fuck” and other shit like “oh my GOD fuck you’re so tight shit you’re literally squeezing me”

super basic but i just love him and his blabbermouth

OH HELL YEAH NONNIE!!!

I think daisuke is a very nervous guy when it comes to sex bc he doesnt know anything but what he sees in porn. which is mostly not even real or accurate. and he also likes to talk so this is perfect :3

like he would be blabbering the entire time like “wow this is hot” when he discovers what the clit can do.. like waow :3 it makes you do THAT? sick.

then he definitely wouldn’t shut up about how wet you are.. like he’d be insanely amazed by it n it would just keep him talking for ages. keeps talking about how soaked you are and how he’s never seen a girl this wet before (bc he only watches porn. loser!)

now when he actually gets inside (his dick kept slipping and he made like three jokes about it) I feel like his brain would immediately like. explode.

like it would cause him to just start rambling about how warm and snug you are and how he never wants to leave and how you’re just so amazing and how he loves you so so much,, I fully believe he’d talk so much he would cum and not even realize it.

then when he realizes he came he wants a do over because he wasn’t paying attention and he missed his own orgasm :3 silly

but also if he were to make YOU cum he’d be mesmerized. going on and on about how he’s never seen a girl do that before and how pretty you looked when you came just for him..

this is a great idea nonnie,,, I love daisuke… hes me fr

[saxandviolins77]

Transformers Skybound #16 spoilers below cut

Actually pretty ok, and I was more interested in the things it was setting up rather than the combiner fight stuff (that was barely the focus of this issue.)

Bluestreak called; he wants his backstory back.

What a whimsical and inviting nature! SO CUTE! My heart is fluttering. /ref

Real G1 experience with those miscolored Constructicons LMAO.

RUN BRUH RUUUUN THIS AIN'T THE CIRCUS WHAT ARE YOU DOING??!?!?

Easily one of the coolest panels of the Skybound comic to date. No joke.

FINALLY! We're making some progress here. I was wondering how long DWJ would keep this up, but yeah, I liked how it was revealed, and the fight between Starscream and TC was great. I am a firm believer these bitches should be fighting all the time and killing each other with mallets. <3

?????

Blitzwing....???

I did not expect this turn of events, but I'm all in for Transformer romance.

They'll probably make up a fem love interest for him because I genuinely don't see them letting the robots be homo.

(Speaking of Blitzwing, this lighting is totally making TC look the part...)

Ignoring the shattered glass SW for a second, I totally love seeing him distraught and losing all his support, taking everything away from him before the big comeback.

I also like how DWJ is showing how Soundwave sucks as a leader, yeah, some people are meant to be paper pushers until they retire, that's fine.

"Optimus? Ha.... More like Nemesis... Nemesis Prime... From the hit Netflix series War for Cybertron. ONLY ON NETFLIX"

Cute.

TRAILBREAKER!! WITH HIS G1 PERSONALITY?! MAYBE THERE IS A HEAVEN!!

Absolutely loved this introduction. Trailbreaker is such a nice character conceptually, and I'm happy they chose him for this book... If only he isn't a sacrificial lamb.

Dude what are you fighting for??? Stop! Everyone is doing their own thing, move on!

(waow, the back of Devastator's head looks like two vents... Can I climb there?)

Ok, so two things I liked here:

Touching on how Transformers get made in this continuity, it's always nice to see what stays and what the writer comes up with.

Transformers are being made specifically to fill ranks. I'd expect DWJ to find something interesting to say about that. (especially with the emphasis on family and, more specifically, paternity.)

Who's this?

[snivyartjpeg]

Ok wait wait. Does that mean. Makoto and Yuma have whatever the fuck makoto and yomi had going on in canon... while also being the same guy

Waow...

(rain code spoilers)

that'd be so funny if they were the same guy lol. but, since he doesn't have amnesia, i think this version of yuma is smart enough to figure out that the guy who has his same exact height and demeanor and is always wearing a mask is also him, especially if yuma worked on project homunculus. so i decided against that jdkflsd. i guess i should've said makoto plays the same narrative role as canon lmao

since yomi is number one in this au, makoto is yomi's homunculus! that means he looks a lot like yomi. in my original ramble, i mentioned that makoto would have slicked back hair and keep yomi's original blue hair color. he'd definitely have tumblr sexyman type appeal 😭

HOWEVER, makoto and yuma absolutely still have some strange fuckass toxic dynamic going on. yuma in this au is a lot more composed than canon yomi, so whenever he's talking to makoto, he's incredibly polite, but also passive aggressive in a way where you can feel the pure, seething hatred radiating off of him. meanwhile, since makoto is yomi's homunculus, he takes a great deal of pleasure in rubbing salt in yuma's wounds because he is the CEO and yuma is not. think of them as the most petty, bitchy, divorced people you know and that's the dynamic! so... basically makoyomi with different flavors, lol

i want to try retaining as much of makoto's personality in this au as i can, which is a bit difficult when he's the homunculus of a completely different guy. fortunately, i can see both yomi and number one on two sides of the same coin- having the same type of motivations around peace, happiness, and justice, but with different warped definitions of what that is. so this makoto acts mostly the same as canon, but has a more prevalent sadistic side to him

[allgremlinart]

hai good friend,, tell me about mai. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of her before… look what we are doing to our beautiful queens 😔

YIPEE I love when me going insane about a character for a day makes you curious about them... especially cus atp I can kind of predict what is going to pique ur interest

ok ok: so, Mai. She's 1/3 of Azula's Evil Girl Group, colloquially known as Ozai's Angels, and thats the context you see her in for most of the show which is why it's important to know. You know how all cartoons in the 2000s HAD to have ONE morose goth chic? Well she is atla's quota. She's a noble, she's an only child (THEE only child. The first only child they made at the only child factory <33), she fights with 🔪KNIVES 🔪!!! she's Zuko's canonical comphet love interest and she has a very understated but underrated arc..

Her role/arc in the show:

I mentioned Ozai's Angels because her interactions with Azula and Ty Lee are the real meat and potatoes of her character. They're like... baby's first toxic yuri love triangle <3333 REALLY can't overstate how toxic yuri love triangle they are. Mai and Ty Lee end up betraying Azula in season 3 which is both the climax (imo) of Mai's arc and the inciting action for Azula's descent (but we're not getting into Azula never ask me to get into Azula please). A lot of people reduce Mai going turncoat to JUST being about saving Zuko - and like partially it IS. She saves Zuko from dying because she loves/cares about him and that's a big part of it.

But it's ALSO about her finding her voice ?? Like throughout the show we NEVER see her voice opinions about something unless it's to say that she's bored, or jaded, or what have you. She never seems to have strong feelings about anything; her stated reasoning for joining Azula's Imperialism Girl Band is because she's bored living with her parents 💀 but it's like. It becomes clear to the audience later in the show that she was raised to never speak unless spoken to, to mask emotions, etc etc LIEKKK SHE'S SOOO REPRESSED ONLY CHILD SHE'S SO WOMAN TM... So her telling Azula "I love Zuko more than I fear you" was THEE cuntiest moment EVER because it's like oh shit ?? this is something pretty unexpected from this character ?? Waow so crazy so cunt ??

A lot of people point out that she and Ty Lee never really got a "ohhhh Imperialism is bad" arc like Zuko did but. imo there wasn't a whole lot of room in the show for it lol. Would have been something interesting to explore in the comics for sure !! but uhmmm I'd rather walk into the ocean than watch Gene Luen Yang try and write about imperialism and colonialism again so maybe its better we never got that.. (no offense to him he's just... not that great at doing it in the atla comics...not his strength..)

Her reception in fandom:

She's usually only ever talked about in the context of being Zuko's love interest (either positively OR negatively) hence my post that you saw. Like. Victim Numero Uno of zutara/kataang shipping wars cus at least a bunch of people LIKE Aang whereas people either ignore or actively dislike her.

There's often discourse about like. Who's the "toxic" one in the Mai/Zuko pairing and it's annoying when she gets flak for it cus like newsflash: they both are. My GOD they both are. They've canonically broken up twice. They're the emo boy/goth girl pairing. They're cute together. They're miserable together. They're both homosexual. You get it.

Also a lot of times people just call her boring or emotionless and it's like congrats !! you have fallen for her facade... in conclusion... sorry this is so long uhm.. your fault for asking me though... how long is it going to take until I've just told you the entire plot of this cartoon piecemeal ask by ask...

[garf-lover96]

pretty sure i already mentioned that i wanted a bg3 s/i so i drew a guy a few days back when i stayed home for the day! i named him Yarrow after my dark urge(even though he's a tav for the sake of this), because where Rowan is quite passive and sensitive (pretty much like me) and presently lives in a calmer setting and doesn't have to fight for his life everyday, i also need an s/i to just project my internalized rage on. you know how it is (yapfest and art under the cut)

tumblr will probably ruin the quality but whatever. i wanna make my first playthrough of bg3 canon for him even though my first tav didn't look like that. but it was organic. he's a bard because i always play a bard. college of swords probably?? plays a violin. and an urchin also. and a tiefling but i'm not sure what kind yet!! i don't know a lot of tiefling lore but there's a whole bunch of like, demons they can originate from. so i still wanna figure that out and pick something that fits (since i'm not limited to the three kinds that are in bg3). i also made him look like a goat because that's cool as hell lmao!!!!

showing you the beta designs while i'm at it. because i can't design something from nothing 😔 that picrew was such a big help though oh my god i was losing my mind with the horns but then just used it as reference and waow. great👍👍👍👍👍

he's an Astarion kisser obviously?? obviously. but since i had my Astarion hater era for a few months back when i stopped playing bg3 for a while i wanna make Yarrow hate him too for a while and then fall for him somewhere along the way. and i wanna write fics too but i have no ideas yet!! they will appear at some point. and when i post an actual full fic i will make Astarion an official f/o (even though i've been losing my mind over him for over a year now. that's what i'm saying. our relationship is complicated)

uhhh i hope you like the art or whatever😔😔 i need to lock in so bad and make it more often but it's hard

[meltypancake]

15 Lines of Dialogue

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture their character/personality/vibe. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you’re free to include those as well.

WAOW ty for the tag @cherrypikkins :] !!

Part I

“But let’s head back. They’re serving potato gratin for dinner tonight—“ she paused for dramatic effect— “extra cheesy."

✦ [ Choir practice ] “Huh? Whoops, what verse were we on again? Oh well.”

✦ “I heard wyverns assert their dominance by showing off their wing span. (opens arms wide) Does this look intimidating enough?”

✦ [ First kill ] “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… Please don’t ever forgive me.”

✦ "I promise you, Dimitri, that I will stay. I will carry these souls.” “And I swear that if it ever feels easy to take a life, I will lay down my axe forever."

✦ “That’s tragic. Every kid deserves to have some fun.”

✦ “Perhaps next time,” he deadpanned, “you might ask Dedue to tie the knots instead.” “My knots were fine!” Eliane shouted. “The branch was the problem!”

✦ “I even got up early,” she lamented, hardly registering his words or even his presence. This was no longer a conversation, it was a cavalry charge. “So early,” she repeated. “Sunrise is a wretched time to be awake. Birds? Sure. But people? No."

✦ Cute, passionate, strong, skilled... and brave, she thought. That's me. [ There is a blatant lack of self-awareness on display here. ]

Part II

“The world is vast, isn’t it? Yet our actions, small as they are, can make a difference. Sometimes I just need to remind myself.”

✦ (closing her eyes) “They wyverns are singing. Can you hear? The wind carries their voices. I could listen to this all day.”

✦ “Here, I made this balm for you. It works wonders on dry skin. …Uh, not that your skin is dry or anything. It looks great, I mean. …Please just take it.”

✦ “Has it really been 5 years? Things seemed simpler, back then. Or perhaps I’m the one who has changed…”

Tagging @barbieburnanator @lovehollyberry @yulgurr @justme-inmyownworld

@resident-cake-anon @moonlightleafs @peachiehambo and YOU 🫵 if you're feeling up for it! <3

[nkgrimmie]

【Scp!au】 In this post you did a scenario with Scp-713 cursor!scp!Alan but not with just scp!Alan and that got me thinking™ (I have not stopped thinking about this since you posted it)

They throw him in 713's camber and tell him to draw something off screen. Him, not wanting to bring a stick into this, draws a cat.

The cat does what most of his creations do and came to life. He then is told to close the program without saving and with extreme hesitation he does.

The cat doesn't disappear, showing almost no reaction. Alan is very confused because this recontextualizes some things and so is the Fondation (though they're more Intrigued than anything).

The Fondation let's him keep them (if only for more testing)! (He can have a friend, as a treat)

(Btw I love this au so much, I hope you have a great day/night/time!)

oah... this is very silly... cause... with 713, if you close the art program, then whatever you drew disappears until you open it again iirc... so for the drawing to just. not do that? yeah the Foundation would get very curious. do some stuff with that yk?

... and yeah, after some testing, the researcher assigned to his case probably would allow him to keep the little doodlecat. good therapy animal yk? they don't want him to suffer more than he actually has to.

but anyway.. thank you for your thoughts... the fact that people think about my stuff when not directly interacting with me or looking at my stuff is just. waow

[clevercatboy]

there's absolutely nothing on earth i'd love more than to frot with a boy and hype up his tdick the entire time. i'd be like waow how long ago did you get phallo? it looks great! better than mine, even :o

before u say this is too corny, he wouldn't hear any of it bc he'd be three hours into denial and drooling with his face buried in my tits, but that's besides the point

literally adorable!!! thank u so much for this tbh i LOVE FROTTING

[razs-archetype]

21 and 22 for the violence ask game? 👁️👁️

This is difficult cause!!! So many games I’m into.. and lethal company is especially difficult. Imgonan do this with a few things.

21. (Lethal company) Umm. I think the Bracken being buff muscular guy with ass is kinda too focused on… iget monsterfucking but please .. that poor thing

21. (ieytd) uhm.. can I say aall of the 2nd game 🫣. I don’t not like it. I love it, it’s genuinely fantastic. Just…… it’s popularity continues to overshadow the first and third so much……. John this John that.. he’s a well written villain but so is Prism. So is Solaris. S much as I love .. so much John content. I’d be much happier if the three games were equally talked about. Plea..se……. It is deserving of praise but my goodness ..

22. (Lethal company) some very different things I could say here. People don’t like to focus on employees enough Ithink. There’s so much potential in the messed up nature of the company and growing closer to survive. They r like ants stuck in a death spiral …… gave their name to the fae .. ect. Doomed !!!!!! Where’s my employees cluthcing each other for comfort in the dark of the facility. Tbf there is a lot !!! But idk. Always with other monsters rather than team mates … kicks rock.

(Lethal Company continued) Also think that (while deserving. And I love them too) the popularity of the Bracken and masked overshadow all the other enemies.. it’s gotten better but still.. so much Bracken. Waow. Woe of it being fan favorite I suppose.

(Lethal company continued) also not enough ppl getting freaky about enemies other than Bracken tbh. Waiter!!! More Abnormality please…..

[idk. Glances left. Glances right. If I hear another person going ooo imso weird I’m such a monsterfucking freak for liking the Bracken (tall, humanoid muscles, bipedal, literally has yaoi hands) I’m gonna bite a stick so hard it shatters in my mouth.]

[at least. Idk. People freaky about Bracken and masked in such a normal way ….. ppl get weirder? For me????? 🥺it would not do that.]

22. (MCSM) I still think the latter half of season 1 villains are still so looked over. Iknow more PAMA fans have popped up which is great. Glad I’m not the only one anymore. But there’s just. So little for those guys. And I constantly see them dragged around, mischaracterized, or completely entirely ignored.

22. (Ieytd) FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GIVE PRISM MORE ATTENTION. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GIVE SOLARIS MORE ATTENTION. First game villains also get so ignored :…………

[thornswoggled]

What do you think it’d be like if Chise returned to Japan with Elias and friends

(looks into the camera with a knowing smile) i wrote hundreds of thousands of words about this my friend

i would love it if they did but im not sure it would gel with the rest of the story. like i cant see yamazaki going in that direction... shes much more interested in exploring a foreign setting. which is funny, because for western readers, WE want to explore a foreign setting too! so its this irony where yamazaki is like "waow britain so cool, i want to learn more" and the reverse is true for me. life is so funny man

i guess it would all hinge on context. why are they going? is it under duress or threat, are they fleeing from someone/thing or is chise grown and just wants to visit because she misses it? if its in the near future there is a very real risk of chise getting into legal trouble as someone who was missing/declared dead. i would love to see the tables get turned and have chise be the one to tell elias how to interact with certain fae. it would also be nice to see her interact with the world with greater confidence now that she isnt terrified of anything that crosses her path. it would be a great opportunity for chise and elias to see each other in another light - elias being guided through a setting where he literally cant communicate with anyone, chise as a more direct leader guiding him as he once guided her

[moonfurthetemmie]

Deimos & Phobos

Deimos

deimos is not best please with the shit Phobos is getting up to with Petruccio and Gonzalo.

I went through a couple of different boots for him but i think i've decided I like these best. i think this is like the only time i haven't given an evil Jet alternate some kind of fancy skirt, though I almost DID give him one

deimos' hair tips are Colored (slightly. is dark. but its there)

Since he can move by dissolving into shadows and nyooming around, practical shoes aren't quite as much of a concern for him if he has to fight. having said that, he's broken his ankles a few times in the past because he refuses to be sensible. he still has not learned his lesson. and he never will!

also there's abetter look at Deimos' armor + the ring that his pose hides. waow isn't he cool

for real tho i rarely do asymmetrical stuff like this because it messes with my brain (negative) but....ough he's pretty.......

I CAN'T MAKE HIM GLOW THE WAY I WANT. WAILS

Phobos

meanwhile, the shit Phobos is getting up to is just sparring with the JMV pair. in deimos' defense tho, if Gonzalo's not careful with his radiance he could very, very easily kill Phobos. Fortunately, after all these years being joined at the hip with Petruccio he's become very good at smothering his aura so he doesn't hurt corrupts that are just hanging out around him. phobos'll be fine.

Tbh this is like the 50th time i've put a dark alt in a very combat-ready outfit and I don't even know why. they just look really good like that i guess.

Heroforge hack: Making a really really dark color, setting it as a metal, and turning the roughness up to max makes it impossibly dark. it's great. Had to crank it down tho because it was so dark his hair had 0 definition. it was just a black blob.

Also the Scar. Deimos hasn't seen it yet. It used to just be the black lines from becoming a corrupt, but now...

Phobos is doing his best to keep Deimos from knowing without being suspicious about it. Because while he can't explain why, he knows with absolute certainty that the moment Deimos finds out he'll grab Phobos and run as far away from the manor, and especially Gonzalo and Petruccio, as he can.

But did you notice? The little touches of that same blue on his magic spear and on the buttons on his shirt? It's only a matter of time before Deimos realizes...

[ruinedgautier]

sorryyy if this is odd but i loveeee the dynamic between lita and sylvain.... i know obviously probably litavain is the most fleshed out, but are there any friendships or other dynamics that lita has? :)

Not weird at all! I'm just so excited about people liking my oc waow 🩷💗💖💞💖💕💞💕💗

Litavain is for sure the most fleshed out! But I also did make Ingrid and Lita friends before the whole fake dating thing happens.

ITS A LOT SO IM GONNA PUT THE FULL ANSWER + MORE CHARACTERS UTC LMAO:

Ingrid really cares for Lita, and she dislikes how much Sylvain is messing with her. The Faerghus Four, including Dedue, are aware that both parties are consenting to the plan— it's just that Sylvain is lying about the reason for it. Ingrid, for the most part, lets it slide because Lita and Sylvain seem to be equal parts invested in the relationship. It isn't until Ingrid begins checking what they think of one another that she realizes how one-sided it actually feels. Here's an excerpt about that:

Ingrid's also noticed how Lita looks when she's describing Sylvain. She likes him, maybe a little more than she lets on. She just can't really convey whatever feelings she has, so whenever Ingrid asks about Sylvain, Lita gives short, generic answers.

“He’s nice to me,” she would say. “And he’s not that bad looking either!”

It's always variants of the two. However, more things slipped past her short responses the longer these past few weeks have gone on.

“He’s nice to me!” turned into, “I lost my mother’s ring in the library the other day, and he spent the next day trying to track it down for me. Turns out, some guy found it and gifted it to his girlfriend. He had to fight the boyfriend for it, but he said a black eye would be worth it if it kept me happy. He’s so… He’s really sweet, Ingrid.”

Then, “He’s not that bad looking either!” turned into, “I think Sylvain’s gotten more tan these past couple weeks. And you can see more of his freckles, too! I tell him that I think they're cute, but he never believes me.”

Ingrid frowns. She doesn’t seem to remember such comments coming from Sylvain. Whenever she asked him about Lita, he’d brush her off and say things like:

“Oh, you know! She’s great.” Or, “We have a study date today in her room. Do you think I’ll score big?”

It frustrates Ingrid to no end. Is he really all that selfish? He’s hurting Lita while he’s just trying to mess around. Sure, Ingrid hasn’t caught Sylvain running off with other girls in the meantime, but that doesn’t ease her mind at all. Maybe he’s just gotten better at hiding from her watchful eye.

——

Ingrid, the poor girl, feels stuck between a rock and a hard place. She doesn't want to hurt her friend by making Sylvain tell her how much he's lying to her, but at the same time, she's tired of needing to clean up Sylvain's messes and thinks that Lita would set him straight after he confesses.

Or something like that, I haven't exactly finished hammering out the details yet 🤧 just know that Ingrid and Lita are friends LMAO

As for other dynamics, she has a small (unnamed) friend group. They're not really mentioned often, but they like teasing Lita about dating Sylvain. They don't know that Lita and Sylvain are pretending to date.

Lita also enjoys hanging out with the Golden Deer a lot. She tags along with Lysithea to learn makeup tips from Hilda– they get ready for the ball together ♡ She goes painting and sketching with Ignatz and values his crit when creating art.

Adding on more to Hilda and Lita's friendship, Hilda passively mentions that Lita should join their class since she seems to get along with everyone there already. Lita always declines, saying that she likes the BL class, but she'll always hang out with her friends in GD. They kiss a little bit in my brain teehee ✨️

Ummmm I FEEL like that's all of them? I want to build more on her relationships in BL, but I have yet to sit down and figure them all out 🤧🤧