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#dead plate icons
yourdarlingness · 5 months
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 (:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) The Angel had gifted these to all 。
 Vince / Vincent (Dead Plate) cream soda milkshake
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╭ reblog . like . & credit if using or saving
• Cream soda - ruffles
╰ self - indulgment // originally requested by crow anon ! ( . . ) ╺╺╺╋
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sicklysweetdaydreams · 3 months
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✧ dead plate icons ✧
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zane-helps-otherkin · 3 months
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Matching icons and wallpapers for Vincent and Rody from dead plate
Requested by: Anon
Matching icons and wallpapers of Vincent and Rody from dead plate with a vintage theme
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Requests are currently open
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boygirl-club · 15 days
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╰┈❥ Rody & Vincent Layouts !! ♡₊˚⊹
𖦹  ---- requested by @azuremist ! ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝   𖦹  ---- psds by m-lancholy & @lisbunnie-edits : ♡ ♡ ♡ 𖦹  ---- free to use with credit ! ꒷꒦⋆⑅
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rookmeo · 3 months
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— matching rodent icons ! ^_^ [dead plate]
— day 003: a character who made you get interested in the series/games OR a character who you think is underrated.
[ for @luvistrz's event !]
i fucking hate yaoi <- proceeds to play the rest of the studio investigrave games. theyre the reason why i havent been posting lately ^^ sorry ^^ the mental illness ^^
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pridebicons · 3 months
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unlabeled transmasc rody pride icons
DNI IF YOU ERASE HIS BISEXUALITY
requested by @fropishness
like/rb if using + credit
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evil-john-egbert · 14 days
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✦DEADPLATE~MATCHING~PFPS✦
_☆* explodes *☆_
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fictionkin-hell · 27 days
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Vincent Charbonneau icons for Anon!
no theme provided, so i felt like red fit best :)
CW for sharps (a knife) under cut!
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esamastation · 6 months
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Shizuroth, part sixteen
Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen
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Though Shen Yuan had played Final Fantasy VII and Crisis Core way back when, mostly because emulation was easily available and everyone praised them a lot, he'd never really gotten that into it. He'd sort of missed the hype train, and all the hot takes had already been taken, and Advent Children was kinda weird and overall it just didn't grab him.
But he has to admit that Midgar is a really cool setting.
It's dumb, of course, like, on every logistical level. Oh, look, there's thousands of kilometres of free real estate in every direction to build on, but you know what we should do? A massive fuck off blast plate of million billion tons of metal fifty metres of the ground, that's what we'll do, and we'll build a city in top of it too!
Like, why?! In what realm even remotely attached to sanity does that make sense?! Is there something wrong with the ground, is there an issue of sudden mega floods, or something? No, it's just. A thing they did! 
Logic and sanity aside, though, it's cool, as a videogame setting, it's very cool. With the rule of cool there's no reason for, you know, reason. It's iconic. 
And it's the closest thing to a modern city he's seen in - in a while! And, damn, but the scale of everything in real life is so much bigger than any of the games conveyed.
It's a real city! With real city traffic and bustle and dystopian advertisements everywhere! There's also an ever present haze of pollution that gives all the neon signs a dreamy glow. It's almost pretty.
And it's only powered by the lifeblood of the planet, too. Technically the souls of the dead! Wonderful.
"Please stop gaping at everything like a damned tourist and get in. People are starting to stare."
Sephiroth looks down to the car that had just stopped in front him on the sidewalk. Genesis had told him to get to the front, that he'd meet him there, but…
Genesis has a car. It shouldn't be a surprise, the guy is rich and the city is big, but it is. It's a really nice car too. A fucking oldtimey wine red convertible. It matches Genesis' outfit. How extra can you get?
"... Do I have a car?" Sephiroth asks slowly, rather than point out how ridiculous and in character it is.
"You have a motorcycle you never use," Genesis says, sounding tired. "Get in."
Sephiroth has a motorcycle. Of course he does.
He opens the convertible's side door and is immediately smacked in the face with a mix of nostalgia and incredulity at the old familiar feeling of something so simple as a car door mechanism at his fingertips. The seat is too much in the front for Sephiroth's long legs, but the seat goes back, and that's a familiar feeling too. Kind of.
He always had to pull his seat forward, rather than back.
Swallowing the sudden, long suppressed homesickness for a world he's two transmigrations away from, Sephiroth looks for a seatbelt. There isn't one. Hooray for corporate dystopia.
Genesis joins the four lane traffic in front of the Shinra building with the reckless expertise of a man who drives a lot in the city, and hates it almost as much as he loves his car.
"How far is it?" Sephiroth asks, trying to figure out where to put his hands. It's a really nice car, and it looks polished, inside and out.
He can't believe he's in a car. He can't believe he's in a world with cars again. He also can't believe how badly the games conveyed the scale of Midgar.
"Sector six," Genesis says and glances at him. "You're looking a little green there, are you feeling alright? Don't throw up in my car."
"I'm fine," he's really starting to get sick of saying it. "Stop fussing."
"Who's fussing! I just don't want you to make a mess," Genesis scoffs. "Also you aren't fine. You have amnesia."
Sephiroth snorts and leans his arm on the door, looking away and at the Shinra building.
It's huge, and weird. It sorta bulges out, this lumpy mass of a building with enormous pipes running up to it with a big barrel shape in the middle. It's the biggest building in the city, though - it's the only real skyscraper, towering over all the smaller buildings around it.
After all the metal in the Shinra building, it's weird to see brick and mortar again. Why brick and mortar? What did they run out of steel and concrete building the plate? None of the other buildings go higher than eight levels, too.
"We've covered one thing you remember perfectly. Anything else? You recognized Angeal and me, but how about anything else?" Genesis prods at him. "Hey, are you listening to me?"
Oh, he hates this. At least in Cang Qiong Mountain people were too polite to really pick on him or point out how badly he acted as Shen Qingqiu. They were nice enough to take his bullshit at face value and let it slide. Plus there was propriety to think about - none of his disciples had the standing to really call him out.
Genesis doesn't give a shit about his thin face and actually smacks him on the shoulder, "Hey!"
"What's there to say?" Sephiroth answers, because he has no answers to give. "I wouldn't know what I don't know, would I?"
Genesis sighs, irritated and stalls at the traffic lights. "And I can't tell you what to look up if you don't tell me. You must've figured out something by now."
"I figured I really could've used the day to myself," Sephiroth mutters and watches as a delivery truck advertising pastries runs a red light. "I don't know what you want me to say. I don't know, Genesis."
"Shit," the other SOLDIER says, running a hand through his hair while steering one-handed. 
There's a break in the discussion as they go through a checkpoint, where the guards in infantry uniforms just wave Genesis through. The people on the sidewalk stare at Genesis' convertible, and whisper.
Sephiroth looks away, and then blinks at the dump truck not far away from them, also going through the checkpoint.
Weird - somehow he didn't expect Midgar to have public services. Where do they go to empty them? Do they just dump their trash down the plate?"
"So you remember… nothing?" Genesis asks as they leave the checkpoint behind
"I know - some things," Sephiroth says defensively. "But - the details escape me."
"Things like what?"
"I don't know. You, Angeal. This city. The war. Don't ask me for the president's name, but I know there is one," he sighs and leans back, watching an enormous advertisement for LOVELESS pass them by. 
He also knows that sometime soon Genesis will get hurt and the wound will never heal, kick-starting the plot of Crisis Core. He has no idea when, though. He isn't even sure how to figure it out - the timeline in these games wasn't exactly clear.
"Does Angeal have a student?" he asks.
"What, like a personal student? Not that I know of," Genesis says and glances at him. "Why?"
"Ah, nothing, never mind. Must've been someone else," Sephiroth says smoothly.
So, Zack Fair, the protagonist of Crisis Core, hasn't appeared yet? Or Angeal hasn't met him. Hopefully that means there's still some time.
Genesis is quiet for a moment and then sighs. "I'll get you some intel. Personnel files for people you should know, reports from missions you've been on. The information packages handed to Thirds should help at least a little too. But Sephiroth, there's a lot about your past you've never shared, if someone asks about it…"
"I'll just say I don't want to talk about it," Sephiroth says, watching another neon lit advertisement fly by. "Thanks, Genesis."
"I expect to be compensated in full for my efforts," Genesis says firmly.
Sephiroth leans his cheek on his knuckles and wonders what Cultivation might do for the deterioration Genesis - and Angeal too - have ahead of them. "I'll do my utmost to pay back my debts."
"You better," Genesis says and turns the car from the main highway to a side road, full of expensive looking store fronts and equally expensive looking cars.   "That's it over there. Let me find a place to park and then we can get you a coat that fits."
"Much obliged, Genesis."
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art · 1 year
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Creator Spotlight: @scottlava
Scott Campbell has illustrated numerous children’s books, including SKULLS!, Sleepy the Goodnight Buddy, and Zombie In Love. He was author/illustrator of the much-loved HUG MACHINE. He enjoyed a long career in video games, where he art directed the critically acclaimed game Psychonauts and Brutal Legend for Double Fine Productions. Great Showdowns is his ongoing online series. Scott’s work has appeared in galleries and publications around the world. You can see more of his work at ScottC.com.
Check out our interview with Scott below!
How did you get your start in art, and more specifically, with Great Showdowns?
I went to art school in San Francisco and have been painting, making comics, and designing video games ever since with Double Fine Productions. The Great Showdowns began at the first Crazy 4 Cult exhibition at Gallery 1988 in Los Angeles back in 2007, an exhibition of artwork inspired by the cult classics of cinema. The first 10 little paintings were intended to be snack-sized pieces for people to easily collect. They began with perhaps the most iconic of wild west showdowns from A Fistful of Dollars with Clint Eastwood. I pulled some of my favorite moments from films like Ghostbusters, Predator, Exorcist, and Planet of the Apes and placed them all in simple little dust-colored squares as if they were in the dirt streets of a wild west town. They began as good versus evil but grew to all kinds of showdowns between people and objects and often moments of great love between people. I started a tumblr for them a few years later, and I have been posting them ever since. We have published three Great Showdown books and have had 3 solo exhibitions along with worldwide scavenger hunts. There are over a thousand of them up on the site by now, and i do not plan on stopping any time soon.
Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?
I would like to gather Jim Henson, Walt Disney, and Richard Scarry together for dinner and chats. They have all created my favorite and most joyful worlds. I think we would have some of the most delightful chats.
What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?
I love collage, but every time I try it, I get frustrated and just quit. Someday I will get into it when my kids are old enough to really mess around with various mediums. I plan to have boxes of textiles and magazines for them to just annihilate.
What does your work set up look like?
Oh, it’s just a table with an old mug for water and an old plate for my watercolors and not much else. I share a studio with a bunch of very inspiring people who make wonderful things, from fabricated creatures to VR experiences and films. I have probably the simplest little area in the space. I do have an old oak flat file that I love to look at.
Advice you would give to an aspiring creator?
The biggest thing I would push upon everyone would be to not fret about one’s visual style. The style will grow and present itself as you experiment with mediums and expose yourself to various cultural delights. Just have fun and try all kinds of things.
What is one interaction you had from a fan of yours that has stuck with you over the years?
I gave a game design presentation many years back on a game I had art directed at the time called Brutal Legend at a game conference in Leeds. The game followed a roadie to the age of metal in the land of metal, with demons and chrome volcanoes and hot rods growing from the ground, and rivers of happy and cheering fans. After the talk, I spoke with someone whose work I had seen in earlier portfolio reviews at the conference. She was very shy but incredibly talented. She came up to me after the talk feeling pretty emotional and inspired to the point of tears and sobbing. It was probably the most extreme reaction I have ever gotten from someone, and it touched me deep down in my guts. That’s why we make things! To bring on the tears!
From video games, to illustrations, and children's books, you've worked on many projects. What was the most challenging, yet rewarding one?
Video games take an enormous amount of work over a long period of time and rely on the skills and talent of many like-minded people. It is sometimes difficult to corral such an effort, but it is incredibly rewarding to see it all come together to create such epic worlds. That said, though, children’s books are very enjoyable in a cozy way. It’s just me right there working on a world and all the pressure is on me. I cannot rely on all the talented people around me to make it look great.
Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?
I love perusing old fashion and film blogs and artists like Bob Jinx and Neil Sanders and collections like Its Colossal.
Thanks for stopping by, Scott! Be sure to check out the Great Showdowns over at @scottlava!
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yourdarlingness · 5 months
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 (:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) The Angel had gifted these to all 。
 Rody (Dead Plate) cream soda milkshake
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╭ reblog . like . & credit if using or saving
• Cream soda - ruffles
╰ self - indulgment // originally requested by crow anon ! ( . . ) ╺╺╺╋
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bitchimasnake-sss · 6 months
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"i thought you got possessed-" ft. luffy!
ft. luffy x fem!reader
set-up: you're pms-ing and he is such a dumbass. but that doesn't mean he isn't out here being the bestest boy ever. (please excuse his dumbassery, he was dropped on his head as a child)
warnings: none! very wholesome lol
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- please dont get confused, this man has no idea how periods work - like how is it humanly possible for you to bleed and then stay alive and kicking? seems made up tbh - one eventful evening (before you both started dating), you and nami had to sit him down and give him a long-ass biology lesson, explaining what the whole phenomenon is, what pms-ing is and yada-yada - before this, he firmly believed that every once a while a demon possessed you all (and he saw absolutely no issue with that, what a fucking icon) "ohhh" he's laughing, "so that's what it is? i thought you guys like got possessed" "excuse me?" nami's on the verge to hit him in the head again and you're wondering if the constant hits are the reason luffy's braincells are (half) dead "i see, i see. i get it now" - he lied, he still doesn't quite get it - but its fine - so, it is just another random tuesday and (post-dating) you know syou love luffy. but holy shit, if he yelled "YN DOLPHIN!! LOOK LOOK A DOLPHIN! SUGEEEEEE" and giggled again, you might yell at him. you really do love him but if he stole your food one more time, you're convinced you might smack him too. "luffy" your voice was unusually low, devoid of any warmth, "stop that." "whatt" he whined, grinning afterwards as he scooped up more food from your plate "luffy. i said STOP IT." your voice rose higher and silence hung uncomfortably over the dinner table - luffy just looks at you dumbfounded - the way you're fisting your hand on the table and looking at him has the crew afraid that youre gonna murder the captain in cold blood - well, i mean ur considering the possibility too, so, you mumble a half-ass apology and return back to your room to be alone - lying against the soft sheets, you can smell the citrus detergent and oh boy, now you feel guilty - i mean god, that's luffy, that was nothing out of the ordinary for him. why did you yell at him? fuck, are you a horrible girlfriend?? - oh boy, now the tears are welling up too - "yn?" luffy whispers as he slips into the room, closing the door behind him and now you're really crying - i mean look at him, why did you yell at him? - "im so sorry, i don't know why i yelled at you, that was so shitty of me-" "hey, it's okay" he's hugging you tight, "you did nothing wrong, i can be a little bit dumb sometimes. i should have not taken your food" "what? no, i am not mad about that. i, i dunno-" you sniff, "maybe i'm just pms-ing?" "huh??" - took a while for him to remember but now that you've jogged up his memory, he looks so guilty, so, he spends the entire evening apologizing and offering you food, he even promises that he wouldn't point out dolphins every time he sees them (you had to reassure him that he can continue doing that)
- but now onwards, this lovely himbo tries to keep in check what he's saying, often giving you a lingering look as if asking "this is fine right?"
- but now you've got your personal defender!! - ussop made a joke and you're not laughing (because it wasn't that funny tbh) and luffy is ready to smack ussop and tell him to "not annoy" you. zoro is being dumb and luffy can see it on your face that he's pissing you off lowkey, so, he will actually tell zoro to not be a dick - mf just starts picking up fights left and right for your sake and now you have to give him another long ass lesson to make it stop - ps: he does not stop. - this man turns into a chihuahua, anything bothering you must be struck down. - very, very observant from now on too. he needs to make sure you're feeling good - also asked sanji to make your favourite desert - he just loves you so much and wants you to be as comfortable as possible (still doesn't know how female anatomy works though-)
a/n: omg i luv him such a dumbass
zoro's link <3 sanji's link <3
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stvolanis · 6 months
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Pretty Stars
PT .1
PT .2???
PAIRINGS: Elvis Presley x Rival! Rockstar! OC
WARNINGS: EATING DISORDERS, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, EXPLOITATION, MENTIONS OF ABUSE, inaccurate time lines probably, this is more depressing than my other stories, age gap (OC is 19 and Elvis is 23), foul language, Elvis is an asshole but so is OC, typical rivalry things, enemies to lovers
NSFW WARNINGS: NONE, it will all be in part 2 if this does well :)
Don’t be shy, request something!!
˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚
Rosalee Marziel worked her ass off to get where she stood today, and she’d die before she let some stupid boy ruin it for her.
She’d lived in cities since she was a toddler, and growing up in such a hostile place causes you to realize that no one will help you but you. It took her losing her mother, her extended family, and a few boyfriends and flings to realize this. Once she had nothing, and was at rock bottom, of course she’d sign her life away. What more did she have to lose when everything was already lost?
The 1st amendment no longer felt like it applied to Rosalee. She was stripped bare of her former self, and instead embodied a new persona, Rose Marz. Rose Marz was confident, selfless, bold, and had no problems making a statement. She was a music, movie, and fashion icon all the way past France.
Truth was, she’d been groomed since she’d signed her life away when she was only 15. Groomed by the men around her who only wanted the greatest pleasures of life, and naive Rosalee Marziel was their ticket to that. ‘Wear less, and more of this’ they’d tell her as they held up skimpy playboy sets. She was 16. ‘More makeup, she’s aging.” They’d tell her makeup artists. She was 17. By the time she had reached 18, she’d corrected every little flaw they had pointed out. She spent hours covering acne scars, moles, and stretch marks.
She’d powder and cake herself in flawless natural makeup, which wasn’t so natural once you’d watch her apply a ton of it. She formed an eating disorder and lived off of eating Cesar salads with extra grilled chicken, and even then, she’d sometimes feel herself become sick. The smell, taste and feel of food made her vomit in her mouth. So, when she went to ball events, charity event, etc.; she’d stick to a glass of water and give tight lipped smiles when offered a plate of appetizers.
You’d think oranges were her favorite fruit, but she’d only eat them when she’d gain a pound or 2. Her stomach pains sometimes became unbearable, but beauty is pain, or at least that’s what her producers would tell her with money on their tongues. Sometimes she swore instead of feeling spit when they’d speak to her, she felt hard and cold coins. God forbid they found out she’d eaten that day, the comments would strike up.
The ones that formed her eating disorder in the first place. The ones that make her cry herself to sleep and curl into a ball. The ones that made her weep for her dead, junkie of a mother. The ones that made her throw up her insides till her stomach felt like it was trying to eat itself. And the ones that made her wanna not wake up the next day.
Roses first gig was a lousy bar her old manager booked for an hour. It’s one she’ll never forget, I mean, it’s what sparked her love for preforming in every sense of the word. On stage, she didn’t have to be the broken shell of a little girl, especially not when she heard people cheering her name. The rush of adrenaline shot into her veins was addicting and was a high she’d strive to chase any moment she could. In those first moments, she felt like her body was on fire, and the words slipping from her mouth held every ounce of raw emotion she would never normally say.
She had something other rising female preforms didn’t have, and that was a genuine love for music. They didn’t have the same spark in their eyes like she did. They weren’t passionate about the lyrics they wrote or sang. The only reason they were famous was because of their sex appeal.
Climbing the ranks in a male dominated industry wasn’t an easy task by any means, but Rose managed to do it. She sunk her perfectly manicured claws into their backs to rise herself to get to where she was today. Past Carl Perkins, past Johnny Cash, even past Jerry Lee Lewis. She was at the top of her game.
Showered in every luxury she could imagine. Queen worthy jewelry, the latest and hottest cars, 3 mansions and 10+ houses stationed all around America. Her favorite house was stationed all the way in Milan, Italy. She had an endless list of ‘friends’ and men throwing themselves at her feet for even a glance, but she wasn’t naive anymore. She could see right through them with the x-ray vision she swore to herself she had.
Hell, even the Kennedys loved her.
But none of it was ever enough. None of it made the throbbing pains in her head, chest, and stomach stop. It didn’t stop her from taking nearly lethal amounts of pills on her roughest days in hopes that just maybe she’ll find the courage to take a little more.
Rose was never satisfied with the life she had. And when they started throwing her in movies alongside people she didn’t care to know, she nearly lost herself. Rose? An actor? That couldn’t be right. She was a singer. But it’s what her fans wanted, which means it’s what her producers would make her do.
She was sure her fans adored her, and she was grateful that they did, but a small part of her detested them. A small part of her had wished she’d never became famous. If she knew this would be her at only 19 years old, she would’ve ran away from that man with a few papers and a pen all the way to across the globe. But she could never bring herself to hate the people who got her to where she is today.
They are the only reason she’s able to live the way she does, after all. Those little girls who look up to her, dreaming of being in her shoes and, wishing to be like her when they get older and cheering her on from crowds will always be the reason she continues to preform. But how badly she wanted to cradle them and tell them ‘careful what you wish for.’ Because she wishes someone had told her.
Though she was at the top of her game, there was still one large obstacle in the form of a southern man.
Elvis Presley.
No matter how many movies she starred in, or how many songs she made—no matter how many awards she won and was nominated for, he always somehow managed to beat her. Not to mention the constant comparison she was always faced with when I came to him. ‘Elvis does this better’ her manager would start. ‘So you need to do this’. He’d say.
I learned how to dance, and Elvis was the star of a dance musical called ‘Copacabana’ the next day. I mentioned i knew how to draw, and all the sudden Elvis’ art was plastered in museums. The list goes on and on of him trying to out-do her an coming out successful. Naturally, Rose wouldn’t care, but at the end of the day it was her having to hear her entire management team on her ass. One time her producer even phoned in about it.
It was a constant battle between the two and it seemed like an endless cat and mouse game. Not to mention Elvis throwing loads of shade at her when he was in the press a few weeks prior. Since then, anytime she’s been asked about their ongoing rivalry in the press, she’s said the upmost worst things about him. If it was any other A list celebrity, her manager would have her head, but it was the 2 most hottest people in America going head to head like bulls. Obviously it would make both parties become a more popular subject, and the more publicity, the better.
And now they want Elvis and Rose to preform together for a Valentines special? Hah, they must be crazy to think they wouldn’t claw each others throats out. Rose had never dared to protest against anything her producers and managers had planned for her—the last time she did she was beaten. But this—this is the one thing she wouldn’t go down without a fight for. After a good year and give or take a few months of going against each other, why would they now want them to make amends? The damage had already been done.
Rose was fortunate enough of never having to actually meet the man talking the upmost shit about her in person, till now.
As she sat in her dressing room, she could swear her makeup was sweating itself off, resulting in her panicking. Her eye makeup was dark and bold, and her lips were a faded cherry red. The dark mole above the corner of her lip just barely peeking through her pounds of foundation. Her hair was was naturally a brunette, but her main manager thought blonde would be a better look on her. So now she sat with her blonde hair teased and overly large, adorned in pink and red flowers to match the Valentines theme.
Rose felt her confidence begin to dwell as she thought of every possible terrible outcome this show could bring. Her brows furrowing as she applied setting powder aggressively while thinking of beating that stupid man, Elvis Presley, to a pulp if he tainted her imagine in any way, shape, or form.
A knock on her dressing room door brought her out of her thoughts. “Miss Rose, it’s almost time.” An annoying feminine voice said from behind the door. Rose huffed as she got up. “Alright, give me a moment.” She yelled back as she began to dress herself.
They’d chosen a white, tight fitted turtle neck long sleeved shirt for her to wear, paired with a short, light pink dress to go over it and a large white belt fit around her waist to seem more slim. The knee high white leather boots and different shades of pink and red heart earrings pulled the whole look together as she stared at herself in the long mirror in front of her.
She smoothed her hands down her dress as she took in a long breath of air before she finally found the courage to leave her dressing room.
When she stepped out, the narrow backstage hallways parted like the Red Sea at her entrance. Her manager, a short old man with the personality of a donkeys ass, stumbled his way over to her.
“Ah, Rose! There you are, come.” He said urgently as he tightly gripped her upper arm. Rose didn’t get a chance to respond, and instead winced as she was dragged along with him to wherever he was taking her. Their walk wasn’t long as they stopped at a tall man with his back turned to them.
“Mr. Presley.” Her manager coughed out, making his prescene known. Rose fought an eye roll. The man turned around and Rose swore her jaw could’ve dropped right then and there. The pictures and interviews did him no justice, as he was even more good looking in person, much to Roses dismay. Nonetheless, this god of a man was still her biggest rival and the only person stopped her from being deemed ‘queen of rock n roll’ on every cover of The Rolling Stone Magazine
Screw him and his charming smile. She hated his stupidly perfect hair—and she wanted to pull the little strand hanging out on the front out of his head. She wanted to punch him in his perfectly chiseled jaw, and same with his nose. She didn’t like the fact that he easily towered over her, even in heels, so she thought about kicking him in the back of his knees to bring him to the ground where she thought he belonged— below her.
Elvis on the other hand felt his breath get caught in his throat and her nearly dropped the cup of water held in his hand. There she stood, in all her terrorizing glory, was Rose Marz. But Elvis’ eyes couldn’t help but linger on the chubby fingers tightly wrapped around her arm, almost in a painful manner.
How could this little thing be his biggest competition? She was so small. So pretty. So- “fuck you.” So vulgar. That was the first thing she’d ever said to him, and he’d remember it for the rest of his life. He would’ve been offended if it wasn’t for the fact that she was so damn cute with her furrowed brows and pouty red lips.
Her managers face went pale as a ghost. “Aha!! She meant hello!” He nervously laughed as he glared at Rose through the corner of his eye. The small girl let out a huff. “Elvis.” She acknowledged, sizing him up with a quirked brow. He felt a chuckle rumble deep in his chest.
Rose turned her head downward to hide the blush creeping onto her cheeks at his intense gaze, even as he talked to her manager. “That’s quite alright, Mr.Smith. How ya doin, Rose?” He said in that southern draw that made all the girls’ head spin and panties drop. Now Rose understood why, but she would never admit it aloud.
“Terrible since I seen you.” She said with an eye roll. Elvis pursed his lips. “I’m real sorry ‘bout what I said in the press about ya.” He replied with a nervous chuckle. Roses head shot up at that. “Liar!” She called out with a pointer finger.
“Jesus, Rose! Can’t you act civilized for one damn moment?!” Her manager screamed in her face. Rose went beat red in embarrassment, her hands clenched into fists. The old fat man looked at her pointedly. “Excuse my behavior, Mr.Presley.” She said through clenched teeth and false smile.
Elvis pondered for a moment as he took in the situation before him, before coming to a conclusion. “Lemme take ya to dinner to make up for it, Rose.” He said. Something boyish was swirling in his eyes and a certain hope was in his small smile he sent her way. Rose opened her mouth to reject his offer, but it seemed her manager had other plans. “Yes, of course she’ll go!” He answered for her.
Elvis merely glanced down at the obnoxious fat man. “I’d like for her to answer.” He stated with a glare. Rose paused. No one had ever stood up for her like that. No one batted an eye when people would yell at her, grab her, or even beat her to a pulp. She didn’t know what to think—or even how to act.
Her mouth was hung agape as he awaited her answer. “I—uh, sure.” She responded—seemingly in a daze as she gazed up at the taller man. His eyes danced all across her face before stopping at the mole she tried so desperately to hide. “Tomorrow night.” He said before his eyes snapped up to meet hers again.
Rose, absent minded, merely nodded her head.
“You’re on in 5!” Someone shouted over the loud backstage ruckus. That caught Roses attention as she quickly smoothed herself out and took in a deep breath. Elvis reached his hand out towards her. “Shall we?” He asked with a smirk.
Rose rolled her eyes as she slapped his hand away. “Let’s just get this over with.” She replied as she turned quickly away from him.
But Elvis didn’t miss the blush on her cheeks.
˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚
this wasn’t proofread
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boygirl-club · 10 days
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RODY LAMOREE REPLYCONS
requested by @zzhadxa
free to use with credit
text example under the cut
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if you would like to match this, the font is called fresca, i used a 4px outline!
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Aaron made a miniature Bates Motel gingerbread house for Xmas one year. The ground is covered in crushed graham crackers and chocolate cookies, coffee, and shredded wheat.
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Windows are made from melted candy, walls and roof are covered in fondant.
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Roof [and porch] railing is made from tiny cut pieces of painted noodles.
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The base is four feet by four feet, and the highest point is about two feet tall.
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The stairs are made from dyed Rice Krispie treats.
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Motel roof covered in flaxseed with painted noodles for the support poles. Ice machine words are printed on edible paper.
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View into Norman Bates’ taxidermy parlor. Clear window made from thin pieces of dried gelatin.
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Peeping through the hole in the wall into Marion’s room. Furniture and props made from marzipan, gum paste, fondant, and gingerbread. Paintings printed on edible paper, rug printed on super thin fondant.
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Room 1, Marion’s room. 
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Lamp made from a bite sized Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup.
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Notice the suitcase, the bird pics on the wall, and the tiny key that Norman picks up after the murder.
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The iconic shower scene. Shower rod made from painted noodles, curtain made from clear gelatin. And notice the tiny chocolate chip shower head. He took liberty w/the amount blood in the scene.
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Marion’s car sinking into the swamp behind the motel.
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The swamp is made from melted Jolly Ranchers.  The car is several pieces of gingerbread wrapped in fondant and hand painted. It even has the same license plate from the movie.
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Arbogast getting stabbed on the staircase…Gingerbread stairs. Notice Norman’s hair sticking out of mother’s wig.
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Final scene in the basement.  Lila Crane turning around the chair to find Norman’s dead mother. But watch out Lila, Norman’s behind you!
https://www.messynessychic.com/
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drossna · 2 months
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caduceus lvl.20 redesign i did ages ago but forgot to post
copious amounts of design notes under the cut
tl;dr: my goal with this redesign was to create a coherent design consistent with his previous art, improved enough to hopefully read as lvl.20, but still practical enough to serve as actual adventuring clothes
okay anyways so watch how autistic i can be about caduceus
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i wasn't satisfied with caduceus's lvl.20 design. i'm not entirely sure how that design happened. to be fair, critrole designs have never been consistent, but lvl.20 cad abandons nearly every key aspects of cad's design. it drives me batty
why is his hair so straight and pale and dead. why is he draped in so much brown. how do those wing-skirt things work. why does his staff... look like that. like its gonna explode into toothpicks at the first use. why is there honey. why is the gold of his shield so bright. what is the rope on his shoulders for
i mean, who knows what goes on in the critrole art development process. my personal theory is that they continue to design these characters as personal ocs and not as official characters in a huge multimedia franchise, and their personal choices trump all, design considerations be damned. like, i cant really judge. i have the privilege to make whatever choices i want when drawing. i answer to no one. i could tell taliesin jaffe to go fuck himself. yknow. if i wanted to die
regardless, i dont hate everything about the lvl.20 design. i appreciate that it brought back his swirl-patterned pants, but the entire core of his design is so busy with shit that it becomes a problem
i tried to preserve cad's key aspects as much as i could in my redesign, as well as incorporate aspects i enjoyed most from each design. for example, i really like the idea of the goliath beetle armour in lvl.20 cad, but i tinted the black shell towards blue to match cad's signature teal green.
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I also tried to create a palette consistent with his previous designs. teal should always be his primary colour, with pink being the most prominent accent. after that, anything thats analogous to those two is gravy. for real, i am begging critrole to at least keep consistent palettes, because this is a problem for most of their designs
my choice to include the red cords is inspired by the winter cad design as well as one of fjord's earlier designs (side note: most of fjord's designs are pretty great; he's the most consistently on-par)
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i enjoy drawing aesthetic parallels between connected characters. on that note, the swirly jade earring is a gift from beau :3 because they're fun earring buddies
speaking of cad's winter design, the design sheet showed a lot of asian influence (thats mostly covered by the cloak) and i will take any excuse to add asian influence to a design. the first two tunics below were my main reference for my own tunic choice
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the knots on the cords are specifically chinese knot art. the largest knot at his waist is a plate knot which can symbolize the cyclical nature of life and death, and the knot on his cape is a brocade knot which can symbolize (re)unity. i thought these concepts were in-line with cad's general philosophy and the wildmother's teachings. also, the brocade knot acts as his holy symbol with a crook-shaped pin woven through the cord. i really fuck with holy symbols being integrated into a design rather than just slapped on somewhere
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lightning round design notes:
the fraying woven material is witch hair moss, which i imagine could be made very soft and warm. this is my version of the neutral-coloured flynet cape in the fourth design
i brought back the iconic pink lichen
i simplied the staff again. my way of visually portraying a growth in power is that the one wooden hand has transformed into many hands grasping the crystal, which is also a representation of cad widening his social circle and of the nein in general
cad curly hair and beard so important to me
cad wide nose so important to me
final note:
the pose i chose for caduceus was very intentional. while cad looks great in a power pose, i feel like it doesnt suit his character. his power isnt so confrontational. his power is quiet and gentle and humble and inevitable. he doesnt need to show off. he's just chilling. i love this dumb silly man
and for the record, while i consider cad to be the worst lvl.20 design, jester is a guaranteed second place. very tempted to redesign her as well, because mature-but-frilly pirate lolita is right up my alley
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