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#phew that was a long one
comrade-slugcat · 1 year
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asking about Eternal Anomaly! again!
EAs favorite sort of people are either those that don't modify creatures and like observing natural ones or people who are fun to argue with
Worst thing this character has done to me: probably give me actual irl headaches when I accidentally use a pronoun they didn't like today. Which is not great
EA ideal afternoon: hmmm depends either winning an internet argument, finding a cool new mutation (both rare) or something that they do far more often, zone out observing the swimming patterns of their pet leeches
What would break EA: hard to break what's already broken. If you mean complete mental breakdown, if they ever trusted someone again and they betrayed them... Again. Oh yeah having the limiter turned on again
How would EA break news (any kind): I'm not exactly sure what this is asking (unless of course you are asking me to tell you about all the kinds of news there is and never mind I get it) EA would break bad news bluntly, just flat out tell you. Wouldn't care about your emotions. EA is not going to be the one giving you good news most likely, unless you are also interested in natural evolution and they find something cool. If they did they would announce it rather excitedly
EAs smaller interests: manufacturing things, designing things to manufacture, breeding leeches for color mutations, disassembling broken mechanical things
What would EA do in a dangerous situation?: probably resort to murder way too soon
People that would drive EA nuts: people who don't take them seriously and/or modify creatures
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viscountessevie · 11 months
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queen charlotte’s first meeting scene is as rip off from magnificent century kösem. i hope this will become bigger news when show starts
https://twitter.com/aofaglover/status/1573758456737124352?s=46&t=Cj8-wxU3Iw5Sa0s-i59iAw
Just wanna put this disclaimer out before anyone starts reading under the cut: Despite this ask & post and my own feelings about the show, it has been really heartwarming to see BIPOC fans delight in this show and my fandom friends gushing to me about this :D That is something no one can take away from them and I'm very glad they enjoyed it!
[This is also my first and last post on QC so my overall thoughts on the show and everything surrounding it will be there at the end!]
Hello again yall!! I actually started writing this a month ago when I was in Bali with my fam but could never find a good pic comparing George and Julian lmaooo so I gave up on it for a while. Also I've been hella busy at work but I'm back for a bit!
Heya anon! I'm not sure if I blogged about it but the moment the first teaser of their meet cute dropped, every one who has seen Turkish drama kicked up a fuss on Twitter. As they should!!
This is the original clip in question:
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Alot of people did talk about it at the time - especially on Twitter and Reddit and I know a few of my mutuals on here talked about it briefly.
The ripping off was not a great start to the QC promo on top of "Love cures racism". All my friends have given their input on the "realistic" aspect of the show, I agree with their points and don't have much to add on tbh so I'll link the posts here:
Tbh yall can just go through Triv’s QC tag
Honorable Post Mentions: 
On top of this rip off meet cute; I picked this ask cos ever since the first few promo stills dropped my friends and I - particularly Zaira, Triv and Belle - noticed another rip off from our childhoods.
Can yall guess what it is?
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Yall he's SO Julian coded please - I love him (this is me saying before the show aired and I won't be watching but the vibes are thereee)
Then the video of QC and LD came out recently (a month ago when I wrote this reply hahah):
Down to the dresses, it's giving:
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Shoutout to @hptriviachamp for pointing it out lmao
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Sidebar: while I'm not interested in QC's premise, I do love how well India and Arsema are playing their chars (from what I've seen so far) and I WOULD LOVE to see a version of Barbie's Princess and Pauper with these two!! Speaking of them, look at their chemistry in this pic!!
Also me seeing the end of the vid:
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All in all to say the Kosem copying was bad and it should be called out but the Barbie references are all in good fun!
Since this is the main ask I've gotten about the show, I'm also going to put my main thoughts here and I don't think I'll be answering any follow up asks because every take has kind of been said and done. I really don't have much to add on since I'm not ever going to watch the show either.
Outside of the show, I adoree that India and Arsema are getting their flowers and the couple is being promoted how they should be! It's all well deserved. A small part of me does feel sad because if this is the PR team going all out, where was all this fanfare for S2, Jimone and Kathony?
However, based on what I've been told:
- I'm glad the chemistry between QC and George was good and everyone enjoyed their romance
- Who on the team hates LD?? Because COME ON martial rape AND giving her a not-hot older man IN VIOLET'S DAD OF ALL PEOPLE?? They did her so dirty. Idc if Lord Ledger gave her the first orgasm of her life, I see that man and no thank you. My girl deserved someone as hot as Adolphus!
- These two things is a HUGE reason why I can't watch the show cos of my triggers: I hate hate how gratuitous they were with the torture porn - both with LD's scenes with her husband (FOURRRR MARTIAL RAPE SCENES THAT'S LAUGHED OFF AS A GAG???) and George getting waterboarded for his mental illness. As someone who experienced SA and has a mental illness, these are very sore subjects for me so no thank you QC, but I will not be tuning in.
Anyway to close this out, congrats to the cast for doing a great job and whoever enjoyed the show, I'm glad you did! Those who read this and agree with me, just know you aren't alone in your critiques of the show. As long as you're being respectful and mindful of the language used, your criticism and enjoyment of the show are both valid!
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lumera-eclipse · 2 years
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🍒🍑⭐🌳🌠 🍇 💗 - For both Lumera and Miku! @parables-for-days
Lumera: I'm a doormat, i'm just too kind hehe, and yes it does depend
Miku: I'm not Demanding per say but i'm not a doormat either. your more likely the end up as the doormat, it depends
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Lumera: Thursdays Office! if it was here then i would probably lay down next to a tree and read a book ^ ^
Thursday's Office was so amazing! and Thursday is super friendly!
my Best Friend thursday is there and its cool!
there is one place...I don't want to remember where but it was where tirek hurt myself, i was so afraid!
Miku: I just like to be my sister or my friends i have no specific place i like to be!
but i don't like the same place as lumera, i think it made a lasting impact on both of us!
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Lumera: Everfree Forest's Creatures although i'm unsure if i have any phobias the creatures in tartarus probably
Miku: not as afraid of the forest as Lumera is..but it is quite dangerous and i'm pretty sure we all have a phobia of the things in tartarus
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Lumera: i'd say i've gotten more social and less self depreciating
Miku: definitely less scared that i'll mess up and ruin mine or someone else's life or kill someone accidently
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Lumera: my first friend was my sister of course
remember i was extremely unsocial, pretty odd for a pony but were all unique
most of my childhood friends that aren't my sister moved away, yes i do still keep contact with one
Miku: oh! my first friend Cloudy! she's far too busy to hang out now, as it seems our schedules conflict so much, but i still keep contact with her!
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Lumera: I do love the night, but i'm afraid life would be alot harder without the Sun
Miku: although i adore the night as much as lumera, i have to say sun for the same reason
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Lumera: I'm unsure what my best features are but Miku says that they are my kindness and compassion all the time ^ ^
Miku: I'm too modest for this question but my sister does say i'm caring and loving!
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utterdrip · 3 months
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part iv of my favorite line reads by neil
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crossistent · 11 months
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hi, @distort-opia how are you doing?
here are my REMS fanarts😊
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anarchyspider · 6 months
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Gonna be SO real. I personally can not stand the idea of any Robin being Robin specifically just to be Bruce's emotional support child. Like I get it. Batman needs a Robin and Robin needs a Batman. But I just cannot stand this idea that Robin, who's a whole child (usually), has to bear the responsibility of taking care of Batman, The man who's far older than him, when gaining the title. Robin supports and helps Batman, of course, but this idea that Robin always needs to save Batman or "bring him out the darkness" has always really annoyed me. That shouldn't have to be such a huge part of Robin's job. To clarify, I'm really not against the sole idea of Robin saving Batman. It definitely does occur. What I hate is the idea of that being the sole responsibility and meaning of being Robin. Specifically for Bruce. I love Bruce Wayne I do but I do not like his kids legitimately having to be the one to look after him. There's such a huge difference between Robin as a mantle and Robin as a title for a specific person.
Tim's whole Batman needs a Robin thing being reinforced by some people as the definitive way of doing the job just sounds so bad to me.
Damian needed support, Dick needed support, Jason needed support... It just shouldn't be all about working to lift up and perk up Batman for everyone.
Cause THIS really throws me off. That should not be Damian's responsibility.
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I don't even really think it should've exactly been Tim's, but it's already in place.
Overall, Bruce Wayne. I love him forever and always, but I do not think that all his kids are built for or should need to be built for taking care of him so often in such a way
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astrum99 · 1 month
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Righteous Hand of The Father
What Were You Made For?
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its-hyperfixation · 1 year
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just have patience. it’s not how you spend the time, it’s if you waste it.
happy early birthday my beloved @bellamyblakru , i love u so much. thank u for being my friend <3
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peaches2217 · 3 months
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Perhaps some 🤒 for Luisley?
🤒 - Needing to be looked after
Overstimulated
~~~
The click of the front door opening, muffled though it was through the walls of his bedroom, brought Luigi out of his self-induced trance. That would be Mario. Back so soon?
When there was no call of “Weegee, sono tornato!”, the dread fluttering within Luigi’s stomach beat its wings even harder, exacerbated by the perpetual overstimulation that buzzed throughout his limbs and core. A silent Mario was rarely a good thing. That usually meant he was angry or deeply saddened or so thoroughly baffled that he had to retreat into his thoughts to make any sense of his own feelings, and given the context under which he had left the house…
What did he say? Was he upset? Those thoughts tumbled through Luigi’s head in a maddening rush, and as terrified as he was of the answer, he needed to know. As unusually light footsteps padded towards his room, he cocooned himself beneath his blankets, as if their soft fabric could cushion the blow of whatever he was about to hear, and steeled himself.
“Ch-che ha detto?” he called out to his brother. “Era… arrabbiato?”
The voice that responded was not Mario’s.
“Ah! There you are!”
Luigi’s blood froze within his veins.
He tossed the blankets aside and sat up just as the door was thrown open, and the sudden slam of wood against wood sent a jolt through his body that made him clap his hands over his ears. The all too familiar figure in the doorway, his bold chartreuse and white and gold standing in stark contrast to the cottage’s cozy interior, jolted as well.
“Commoners’ abodes,” Peasley muttered beneath his breath, eyeing the door with a mix of contempt and bemusement. “Why must your doors be so ludicrously lightweight?”
The disdain in his eyes might normally draw a chuckle from Luigi — he could practically see Peasley storming into the office of Toad Town’s primary contractor and causing a scene, because how dare the great heroes of the Mushroom Kingdom be given a home constructed of anything less than marble and solid gold — but today he flinched away from it. 
This wasn’t happening. Surely this wasn’t happening.
Remembering all too suddenly the state that he was in, Luigi dove beneath the covers once more. Maybe he hadn’t been seen. Maybe he could still save face. Maybe the fabric could swallow him whole and put an end to this nightmare before it began. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
“What am I doing?” Peasley repeated, his tone thick with mock-offense. “My love, what wouldn’t I be doing here? Is it not one’s most sacred duty to tend to their loved ones in times of need?”
His voice came nearer as he spoke, and beneath his shroud of cotton and down, Luigi gulped. His pulse throbbed in his ears, his heart threatening to rip through bone and sinew right out of his chest. “Please don’t worry,” he said, though his voice shook far more than he would’ve liked. “I— I’m sorry I couldn’t make it today! It’s just, y’know—”
“‘Shroom fever’, correct?” Peasley drew the question out, his voice calm, but laced with something that sounded like amusement.
He didn’t buy it. Immediately Luigi’s throat tightened, and he inhaled sharply, willing himself not to start tearing up.
He expected his blankets to be pried away any moment now, for Peasley to expose his unkempt, lying face and see him for the great big mess that he truly was. The mattress dipped beside where he was curled into a pathetic heap, and his muscles tensed, preparing for the worst.
But it never came.
“Yes, that’s what the red one told me.” The amusement was still there, but now it sounded softer, more affectionate than accusatory. “I must say, he’s not too terribly convincing a liar. He would have held no qualms in seeing me to your bedside if you were ill, but he couldn’t give me a good answer for why this time was different.”
Luigi winced. He hasn’t considered that.
“You can’t tell him what’s going on,” he’d pleaded to his brother half an hour earlier, arms hugging his chest tightly in a futile attempt to stave off the effects of sensory overload. “Just, like… tell him I’m sick. Tell him I’ve got shroom fever or something!”
Mario, though sympathetic, had been disapproving. “He’s gonna have to know eventually. Come on, you know as well as I do that it won’t change anything.”
“But what if it does? What if he thinks I’m pathetic?” 
“Then he never deserved you in the first place,” was Mario’s response. 
Of course, that answer brought Luigi very little comfort. He felt bad enough when this happened, when his oddly-wired brain decided for no good reason that all sensory input was suddenly a thousand times more overwhelming than what he was used to, that getting out of bed was just too great a struggle as a result. For it to happen on a day he was supposed to meet up with the love of his life? The thought that he might lose said love for something so pathetic as this? Luigi couldn’t even begin to comprehend the ease with which Mario suggested that might be okay.
Peasley chuckled now, the sound resonating from deep within his chest. “Your fraternal devotion to one another will never cease to amaze me. No matter my insistence, I couldn’t drag an answer from him. He merely said that my right to know was entirely up to you.”
Frustration and gratitude grappled for superiority in Luigi’s mind. Of course Mario would never go spilling Luigi’s business. But he would have allowed it just this once, just to save himself some heartache.
If he was going to lose Peasley’s respect, he would have preferred it to happen from a distance. He didn’t want this front-row seat to his own undoing. The air beneath his flimsy fortress was hot and stale, and he felt sweat beading at his hairline.
“…It’s nothing,” he finally attempted, meekly.
“Hmm. Well, it’s something to you, and thus it’s something to me.” A rustling of fabric, and then the lightest of indents in the mattress next to his head. Peasley’s hand. “Do you mourn, my love? Might this be the anniversary of some tragedy? Or perhaps you’ve lost something dear to you?”
Not yet. Even thinking as much constricted Luigi’s airway once more, so he shook his head in response.
Peasley hummed again. “Might this have to do with your condition, then? Your anxiety, or your… awe-tee-sum, was it called?”
“Autism,” Luigi corrected automatically, and instantly he flinched at his own haste. “It’s… it’s nothing, I promise. It’s dumb.”
“Ah. So that’s a yes.”
Peasley still didn’t move. He sat perfectly still, his hand never once inching closer, an invitation that Luigi was welcome to accept or decline as he saw fit. He wanted nothing more than to reach out into the still air and take that hand, hold onto it with all his might, have some sort of solid proof that he wouldn’t be abandoned in spite of his brain telling him such an outcome was inevitable.
“…What else did Mario say?” he ventured instead, because Peasley had never been the sort to keep his hands to himself, and he had a sneaking suspicion his elder twin had something to do with that, too.
“He said I would do well to speak quietly and refrain from touching you without your permission,” Peasley confessed, “lest I would have scooped you into my arms the moment I heard your voice.” Another chuckle, and this time Luigi almost had the heart to join in. “I confess, I still don’t quite understand. But I would like to help. Will you acquaint me with your struggles, my dear?” 
Acquaint me with your struggles. Now this was the phrase that bounced about Luigi’s skull, because it made no sense whatsoever. They were supposed to be on a date together. They were supposed to be out and about, enjoying food and nature and being a normal couple (as normal a couple as a human nobody and a Beanish prince could be, anyway). But instead Luigi was cooped up at home, too overstimulated to function like a regular personal, and Peasley had every right to be upset with him for balking on their plans and being a waste of oxygen and organic matter.
And for some reason only the Star Spirits could attest to, he wasn’t. Literal royalty sat at Luigi’s side, addressing him with fondness and requesting understanding of his inadequacies. 
That was reason enough for Luigi to untangle himself from his blankets and pull them down, just enough to peek up and ensure the creature beside him was, in fact, not some fantastical fabrication from deep within his own fantasies.
“There you are.” Deep brown eyes beamed at him, revered him as a god among men, and for a moment Luigi felt that maybe he really was. “I feared I might not get to see that beautiful visage at all today.”
A swirl of conflicting emotions bubbled up within Luigi: confusion, joy, sadness, shame, filling every crevice of his body and compelling him to act. Hesitantly, he pulled the covers all the way down; the shedding of those protective layers made the buzzing in his limbs intensify, and the fresh air sent a chill through him, but breathing it in felt refreshing, even renewing. He filled his lungs, reached out, and accepted Peasley’s invitation at last.
The prince’s hand was pleasantly cool to the touch, and just as he had hoped, its stable presence calmed his racing heart. He tightened his grasp and tugged in order to pull himself up and scoot into an upright position. His head spun and his mouth was dry, but Peasley was here, and he would at least hear him out, and the loving gaze he fixed Luigi with gave him the courage to explain.
“Sometimes,” he began, “I… I mean, half the time, n-nothing’s wrong, everything’s fine, but for some reason the world is too loud and too bright a-and everything… hurts. It’s all just…” He balled his free hand into a fist and clenched as tightly as he could, and that at least lessened the buzz in the corresponding arm. “...too much.”
“Is that so?” Peasley said. There was genuine curiosity in his tone, sympathy in his eyes. “And today is such a day?”
Luigi nodded. “And I-I promise I tried fighting past it today. I didn’t wanna let you down, but…”
“Let me down? Luigi, I would never ask you to exceed your limitations for my sake.”
“But my limitations are—” He swallowed as well as he could, given his tongue felt woolen in his mouth. “Don’t you think it’s… don’t you think I’m kinda… kinda pathetic?”
The question gave Peasley pause, and where Luigi half-expected a denial, he was given only silence. But this silence wasn’t tense or uncertain; Peasley touched his index finger to his chin and cast his eyes aside, lips puckering and brows furrowing, the charmingly goofy expression of a Bean deep in thought.
He was… he was actually giving it serious consideration. And somehow that made his answer mean so much more than an immediate reassurance would have.
“…Not particularly, no,” he ultimately decided. “There are days where even I, skillful as I am, don’t feel quite up to par, and oftentimes there’s no good reason for it. Would you think less of me for such a thing?”
“Wha—? O-of course not!”
“And I think no less of you in turn.” Drawing Luigi’s hand to his lips, he pressed a tender kiss to his knuckles, his well-moisturized lips soft against the tight and dry skin.  “Thank you for teaching me more about yourself, Greenie. I loathe to see you struggle, but I’m grateful that you would share those struggles with me.”
Once more Luigi’s heart raced, but no longer with fearful anxiety. Was this really possible? He was so certain he’d ruined Peasley’s day, so certain the repercussions would haunt him for years to come, and yet here he was, showering him with love and accepting him at one of his lower lows.
This wasn’t happening. Surely it wasn’t happening. 
But it was, and the relief and gratitude and affection that flowed through his perpetually overstimulated body made Luigi want to slump forward, fall into Peasley’s arms, wait out the unpleasantness in the safety of his embrace.
At the same time, the thought of so much physical contact… he shuddered and relaxed his balled fist. Maybe holding hands was as much as he could manage today. But suddenly the thought of being alone again terrified him. “Will— will you stay? I-I don’t know where Mario’s at but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind—”
The smile Peasley flashed was both pleased and knowing. “Oh, rest assured, he’s not too far. He said he’d remain in the living room while we spoke.” Leaning in, he added beneath his breath: “Though I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been listening in all this time. You know you have an excellent brother, do you not?”
At that, Luigi laughed, a mousey but authentic laugh. “You have an excellent brother” was Peasley Code for “Your brother has implicitly made threats against me that could have him declared a war criminal in the Beanbean Kingdom because he cares far more for your well being than his own.”  Mario trusted Peasley and the two were good friends, sure, but he could get… rather intense when it came to his beloved little brother’s heart.
“Sorry about him,” Luigi whispered back.
“Rest assured, I’m happy for it! The more people looking after you, the better.” Peasley leaned back once more and stood, but he didn’t let go of Luigi’s hand. “Would you like some water?” he asked at his original volume. “And perhaps some lip balm? You’ve been licking and smacking your lips this entire time, you know.”
Luigi’s tongue darted between his lips automatically at that statement, and he realized Peasley was correct; not only were his throat and mouth still dry, but his lips were cracked. A bad habit of his, admittedly, and one he was never conscious of until someone else pointed it out. “Please. But—” He paused then, because making requests of a prince still didn’t feel quite right.
Thankfully, he didn’t need to make the request. Peasley gave his hand one more tight squeeze before dropping it and answering the silent question aloud.
“I’ll be only a moment,” he promised as he backed out of the room. “Nothing in all the world could convince me to leave your side, my love. You have my word.”
And though he still trembled in discomfort as his boyfriend took his leave, Luigi relaxed against the headboard, closing his eyes and sighing softly, because he knew it was the truth. Come hell or high water, full-functioning days or overload days, he knew now more certainly than ever that Peasley had no intention of abandoning him.
And he had to admit, that was a nice feeling.
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landoffreaksandfrogs · 8 months
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what type of youtubers would the trolls be? Karkat would definitely make rants and reviews of romance movies, Kanaya would make makeup or fashion tutorials, Sollux has an IT channel he made so people stop bugging him (nobody ever bothers checking it instead of asking him)
quick spitballed ideas bc this is such a cute prompt
aradia - reviews of inaccurate halloween decoration skeletons. theyre not rated on anatomical accuracy but by how much swag they have. most of her other videos are short clips of her livevlogging her day and telling short stories, but shes funny and witty so they do numbers. very low effort and low cost, but shes having fun.
tavros - CARD PACK UNWRAPPING. guy who in no way can afford his hobby but keeps getting these card packs for his channel. surprisingly relaxing to listen to while you have him minimized in another tab while you do something else. he goes over each card in the deck and their effects as well as rarity.
sollux - basically what you said. IT guide on walking through common computer problems. horrible mic quality, but really helpful information.
karkat - ABSOLUTELY would be a movie reviewer. no facecam but for whatever reason has CRISP mic quality. somehow NEVER peaks his mic despite all the screaming he does. he loves media analysis and getting pissed off over fandom drama so hed probably also do breakdowns of scandals in fandom spheres, and somehow almost getting sued.
nepeta - SPEEDPAINTS. and like. flipnote hatena style amvs. obviously very amateur but its a very cute art style and she has no concept of copyright infringement.
kanaya - makeup tutorials and fashion reviews. would definitely be like that one youtuber who reviews the accuracy of historical fiction dresses in film and tv. everytime the virgin mothergrub is in the background of her videos her comments are spammed with "MOTH MOM REAL"
terezi - animated shitposts. like. grinchs ultimatum, garfielf, shit like that. REALLY bright colors and shitty linework with windows moviemaker transitions. no one knows who she is and shes never done a face reveal so shes a total enigma. there are deep web theories that her videos are anti-empire propaganda.
vriska - flarping tutorials. genuinely. she goes over mechanics, spells, class breakdowns, even shares stories of her own flarp campaigns. VERY passionate about it and kind of has an asshole youtuber persona. posts an apology video like once a month then goes on like nothing happened. replies to every mean comment.
equius - weightlifting videos. dead silent. just grunting and metal clanking. no editing. addresses every comment in every video. lots of heavy breathing. very uncomfortable. almost like performance art in how desolate it feels.
gamzee - cooking videos. its as bad as it sounds.
eridan - showing off everything in his hive and talking about it. his guns. his outfits. ranting about pollution. each video is an hour long. its mostly just him complaining or bragging about the stuff he owns.
feferi - has a live feed of her cuttlefish pen going constantly. posts animal care videos. posts music. does challenges. her youtube is kind of an inconsistent mish-mash of content but one thing remains: you will watch her cuttlefish.
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shkika · 9 months
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i've been curious about how iterators in your interpretation ascend exactly, since they seem to be unable to get off the string!
is the process more metaphorical/spiritual in nature? or is it entirely physical?
also!! i really really love your art and interpretations tee hee pleading face emoji
This is a pretty good prompt to talk about how I think ascension works! I'm gonna try to be thorough even if some information may seem basic! To me ascension feels like it's meant to be spiritual.
DETAILED EXPLANATION OF UH...
1. Ancients and ascension throughout time.
2 . Iterators and ascension
3. What Saint is and how he works.
I think some people may not realize the concept of leaving the world behind was a thing before the void fluid revolution, before our ancients discovered the ruins of the race that came before them that led to the void sea. Those were the times of those gravel eating monks.
I think ascension is supposed to be a process experienced by old creatures. It works by abandoning all your earthly desires after having been through the cycles again and again. So as you detach yourself from the world eventually.. leaving it behind and ending the samsara.
It became something worth working towards. If you didn't guide your soul to spiritual relief... you'd get stuck in the cycles. Which was painful and scary.
When the void revolution came and a much easier and faster solution was found, of course they took it. It was an answer to getting stuck, finally they would have a guaranteed method of escaping the cycles.
Turns out you can't cheat yourself out of the cycle.. if you are attached to the world too strongly, you become an echo. Which made rumors spread.
So we need another solution. Another effortless way to escape. And so iterators were made! They were designed with a few things in mind . They would be a constant in any cycle, they can't escape.. they can't ascend.. they can't die. Their taboos would make sure they don't try anything themselves and they tough bodies keep them from completely losing function.
This way they could work basically forever on the great problem.
Alright here we go!! The question! How do iterators ascend then. They shouldn't be able to, they weren't meant to do that on their own, but one allegedly managed.
Well a GOOD hint imo is Moon's dialogue in the Saint campaign.
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By this we can guess there is a solution. But it is one right answer among infinite faulty ones. And it's completely indistinguishable or was there a way to safely test it.
Once you discover it and you execute it. You're a goner.
Kind of.. how it happened with Sliver of Straw..
Kind of how Saint's ascension works too.
Sliver basically was the only iterator EVER who accidentally stumbled on it and executed the task. And ascended herself before she could do anything more than send the triple affirmative signal.
And that was it. It probably happened completely out of nowhere in a flash. And she was gone.
This is also a reason why I think she is saint. The way Saint ascends creatures is... by just giving them the solution she discovered. The moment they know it, they end up in the void.
Saint is the only one who can do this. The only one that came back.
OH also quick note.. I love how Pebbles and Moon do not understand what Saint is, unless they discuss him together. Very underrated part of the game's writing. Anyway.
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Saint's purpose is to continue their endless cycle to save others. Pebbles says that by definition no one who knows the answer can venture outside.. except Saint. It's why Moon tells him to wake up.
He's the only one that can.
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sysig · 7 months
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Gosh, it's almost october already? Time flies! For a Vargas request: its quite a fluffy one for the spooky times (and the source material haha), but I've always found the idea of Edgar from And Also With You sleeping on his wings quite endearing. They're built in blankets! Great for some rest (which this man desperately needs lmao).
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Day 5 - Heavenly rest
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alectoperdita · 7 months
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Oh hell, I am all about them drugged confessions. If/whenever you’re up for it. 💕
From Put That Guy in a Situation(TM) Ask Game
Jumped this one ahead in the queue since it's someone's birthday. 💜💜💜 Enjoy, my friend! I hope this has enough of the stuff you dig about them.
13. Drunken/drugged/sleepy confessions
content warnings: referenced non-consensual drug use and mildly spicy because Seto is thirsty
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The city lights stabbed into Seto's eyes. The city's heartbeat—a frantic cacophony of bumper-to-bumper traffic, music spilling out of late-night shops and restaurants, and an overwhelming pulse of humanity—pulsed against the back of his head like a second migraine.
He lifted his heavy head and tried to get a better look at his surroundings. Not an easy feat when the world wouldn't stop spinning. Seto could feel the planet's rotational force itself.
In the sky, a bloated, sickly yellow moon hung on the black canvas, a dim bulb when compared to the Oriental Pearl Tower's neon blue and magenta on the opposite riverbank. The phalanx of lit skyscrapers behind the landmark formed a blinding wall that threatened to lighten the night sky.
No wonder they were sitting at a standstill in traffic. He was in the Bund. Shanghai. He was in Shanghai. Not for the first or second time, but the city's nightlife never failed to overwhelm.
It came back to him in bits and pieces. The Pan-Asia Duel Monsters Championship was in China this year, which KC was a sponsor of, along with a dozen international and domestic corporations. Seto wasn't here to compete, though. He was here to do business and build guanxi.
Which meant night after night of hard drinking and tedious back slapping as Seto endured their patronizing compliments about his passable Mandarin. Endless rounds of maotai until his blood must be 90% alcohol. That was the preferred poison of the old-school elites, the ones who built their wealth on the backs of a rapidly booming economy that outpaced everyone's wildest imagination. Not even Japan had sustained that kind of boom in the post-war years.
Potential liver failure was the price of doing business in this country.
That was last night, though. Seto was sure of that much, even if the passage of time seemed theoretical at best. Tonight, he'd been swept into a gaggle of their children, mainly the sons of the previous night's party officials and business moguls.
The fuerdai. His "peers."
Ha! Gozaburo had handed him nothing. Everything Seto owned, everything he accomplished, was through his own sweat and blood.
Seto will give them one thing: their tastes were decidedly less provincial. While their fathers drank baijiu like fish drinking water, they preferred cocktails, or at least pitchers of iced green tea mixed with Crown Royal.
Maybe that was his first mistake. Maybe he shouldn't have underestimated how fucked up he could get on such a simple mixture.
That was the last thing he could remember. He drew a yawning gap between the afterparty at the club and this taxi cab.
Seto sank into the seat and squeezed his eyes shut. His stomach lurched. Perhaps it was a good thing that they were stuck in traffic. He might not be able to keep it down in stop-and-go traffic.
An abrasive—a familiar abrasive voice—encroached from the fringes, though. An equally combative voice shot back in a different language.
Seto's head lolled to the side, away from the window and toward the other passenger in the backseat. Reluctantly, he pried his heavy eyelids open. God, why was he so tired? It felt like he'd pulled several all-nighters in a row.
His fellow passenger was Jounouchi, locked in a heated conversation/argument with the cab driver.
Right. Jounouchi was also in Shanghai this week. Except he was here to compete in the tournament. And unlike Seto, he didn't speak a lick of Chinese.
Not that his laughable grasp of English fared any better.
"Fuck, I'm telling ya, it's the other Marriott!" Jounouchi groaned in Japanese, running a frustrated hand through his bird's nest hair. It looked softer than it had any right to be, though. The strands ought to be bleached to hell and back after this many years.
But Jounouchi had been updating his wardrobe and his deck in recent years. Every victory advanced his look and style, and even netted him some media training like someone deserving of media notice, which was why he was playing in the Pan-Asian championship. Seto couldn't ignore him like he once did, like he still tried to in vain sometimes.
(And sometimes, he very much didn't want to ignore Jounouchi, wondering if he could catch the other man's attention in return...)
None of that explained why they were in the same cab, though.
Jounouchi tried again to communicate. It hurt to listen to him butcher English to that extent. The cab driver appeared to grow even more irate, threatening to eject them entirely.
Giggles spilled uncontrollably out of him. Of course! Of course, Jounouchi's incompetence got them stranded on the opposite end of the city from their hotel.
Fortunately, he was a snack to look at, even if his brains were nothing to write home about.
Seto's words croaked out of him, repeating in Mandarin what Jounouchi had been trying to convey. God, why did it hurt so much to speak? But even his drunken slur sufficed, earning a grousing retort from the driver that Seto should've just said so sooner while shooting a death glare at his other passenger through the rearview mirror.
At the sound of Seto's voice, Jounouchi jolted in shock, releasing the driver's headrest he had been clinging to. After several awkward moments of staring, he inched closer to Seto, stopping short of touching him. But the proximity and the tight enclosure made Seto's skin crawl. Not in an unpleasant way, though. His body tingled and felt a touch flushed.
How would Jounouchi's skin feel against his?
"You alright there, Kaiba?" asked Jounouchi, seemingly floating closer. He waved a hesitant hand in Seto's face.
Base urges welled up in him. He wanted to grab Jounouchi's hand and bite it, no better than a dog, as he once mocked the other man for being. Better yet, he could drag his tongue across the rough palm and lap at his knuckles. Suck his thick fingers into his mouth and learn contentment from how they could fill his mouth.
Seto was never drinking green tea mixed with whisky ever again.
He managed a small noise of confirmation before he twisted away, curling as best as he could around the seatbelt. Something like a whimper pushed at the back of his throat, but he refused to release it. He wouldn't humiliate himself any further. Just as he wouldn't crawl across the middle seat and cuddle into Jounouchi's lap.
But god, he wanted that so much it hurt.
A warm hand landed on his back, and he nearly surrendered as Jounouchi rubbed soothing circles between his shoulder blades.
"It's okay." Jounouchi spoke softly, but somehow it rang louder than the many decibels of Shanghai traffic. "We'll be back at the hotel in time. Just hang in there."
Seto spent the rest of the journey folded into himself, wedged firmly against the side of the taxi, trying and failing not to tremble under Jounouchi's caring touch. With a hushed tone, Jounouchi explained what had happened. It was pure coincidence that he ran into Seto and his "party" at that particular club. (Coincidence is giving chance too much credit. There were only so many high-end nightclubs in the city.) Jounouchi had wandered over to say hi before rejoining his own group. But out of the corner of his eyes, he'd noticed that Kaiba was acting unlike himself. In fact, the entire group seemed a bit off.
Seto was coming to his own conclusion before Jounouchi shared his.
Seto had been drugged. And since he knew better than to take random shit handed to him by strangers, it must've been slipped into his drink. Or maybe it was in the communal cocktail pitcher to begin with.
"They were trying to drag you off to someplace else. Don't ask me where. But you didn't look like you wanted to go, so I stepped in," Jounouchi trailed off. He'd yet to remove his hand, but it sat unmoving, a steadying weight on Seto's back helping to ground him to reality.
"I can't imagine they were happy," Seto muttered.
Jounouchi chuckled. "Not one bit. Acted like I was trying to kill the party. One chick threatened me with her stiletto heel."
"My knight in shining armor." Seto found himself laughing, then regretted it when his head throbbed.
"Don't worry, I didn't hit any of 'em. Mighty tempting, though. I just kinda threw you over my shoulder and high-tailed it outta there. That was how I knew you were really outta it. You barely cursed me out."
Heat associated with both shame and arousal rushed through him. It turned out those biceps he secretly admired weren't just for show.
"Finally, we're here!" exclaimed Jounouchi. His hand also regrettably retreated.
Seto watched blearily as Jounouchi overpaid the driver and leaped out the door. He didn't go far, though. He jogged around the vehicle to Seto's side and yanked open the door. As he leaned in and over Seto to undo the seatbelt buckle, the woody scent of Jounouchi's cologne flooded Seto's nostrils. And his strength was plainly evident as he braced his arms around Seto's shoulders and hip.
"Alright, up we go," urged Jounouchi.
Under any sober circumstance, Seto would've never allowed this to happen. To let Jounouchi touch him, especially as a caretaker. But Seto was the farthest thing from sober, fucked up on whatever combination of alcohol and party drugs he had been unwittingly fed. He didn't have the strength to stand on his own two feet.
So he relied on Jounouchi and his strength. Clung to the man's sweat-slicked neck.
The doorman didn't give them a second glance. Why should he? Seto was simply the latest in an endless stream of drunken guests stumbling back into the five-star hotel.
A lobby concierge approached and tried to help, though. Both Jounouchi and Seto waved him off. Jounouchi likely because he didn't want another stressful not-conversation, and Seto didn't want anyone but Jounouchi touching him right now.
"Hey, what floor?" Jounouchi asked after propping him against the wall of the elevator carriage.
Seto patted down his pockets and was relieved to find his wallet. He didn't expect the fuerdai to rob him blind like a common mugger, but you never knew. He tossed the leather wallet to Jounouchi and croaked, "Key card."
The tournament competitors were provided with single-bed guest rooms. Seto, on the other hand, occupied the Vice Presidential Suite for the week. Their elevator shot toward the top floors, bypassing the dozens of floors between the ground and the suites.
As they ascended, Seto snuck covert glances at the other hand. Despite the air conditioning running at full blast, Jounouchi was still huffing and sweating. Who could blame him? Summer in Shanghai could be blistering.
"Can you walk?" asked Jounouchi when the elevator doors finally parted.
Struck muted, Seto shook his head. His heart raced as Jounouchi wrapped a burly arm around his waist, and together, they hobbled down the hall to the suite's door.
The lights flicked on automatically as they entered, drawing an impressed whistle from Jounouchi as he took in the room.
"Yeah, guess I should've known. You wouldn't be caught dead living like us commoners. Where's the bed in this joint?"
The mention of bed caused something hot and heavy to coil in Seto's navel. Without meaning to, his arm tightened around Jounouchi's neck, which only prompted the other man to grip him tighter, mistaking the action as a plea for more support.
"Bedroom," he moaned, knocking his head against the side of Jounouchi's. He might be imagining it, but he swore Jounouchi shivered and pink flooded down to his neck.
Seconds later, they stumbled into the adjoined bedroom. The spacious room apparently didn't warrant any comments, because Jounouchi deposited Seto on the bed and disappeared from sight.
To say Seto was disappointed was an understatement.
It may be a blessing in disguise. Jounouchi had already done the "decent" thing: extracted him from a dicey situation and brought him to safety. Seto didn't need to embarrass himself in front of the other man any further.
He jumped when a hand grabbed his shoulder, kicking a leg out blindly.
"Relax, it's me."
Silly though it was, Seto did relax as soon as he registered Jounouchi's voice. His firm but careful touch.
"Here. I got you water from the minibar and a cool towel. It's unopened. I promise."
Seto stared helplessly at the two items being offered to him. Jounouchi made no moves, either. They were at a stalemate. At least until the other man sighed and pressed the moist towel to Seto's sweat-dampened forehead. His eyes fluttered closed, and he unleashed a faint moan at how good and chilly it felt.
"C'mon, you gotta drink the water, too. The whole bottle, then I promise to leave you alone."
Panic spiked through Seto's system. Being alone, something he never minded before, suddenly sounded unbearable. He didn't want Jounouchi to leave.
He reached out. Not to take the proffered bottle, as refreshing as its content may be, but to grab Jounouchi's forearm. Jounouchi froze under his clutch.
"You can't leave. I won't let you," said Seto before he could stop himself.
Jounouchi's breath hitched. As he stared at Seto's face, his eyes darkened with something unspeakable. He licked his lips. "Okay, not leaving. Not tonight. Guess someone's gotta keep an eye on you and make sure things don't take a turn for the worse. But you gotta at least let go of my arm. I'll take the couch outside."
Seto slid closer. "I want you—"
Jounouchi gasped. Seto could kiss him at that instant, but his head spun.
He wanted Jounouchi in every conceivable way. Wanted to feel his naked skin against his skin. Wanted to feel his weight pressing down on him as his cock pushed into Seto's hole. Wanted to shatter apart and then let Jounouchi piece him back together in the afterglow, warm and content.
He thought Jounouchi might grant him those things. If only he'd ask for them. But the words remained stubbornly lodged in his throat as sobriety started to creep in on the edges.
"I want you to stay with me," he whispered, holding Jounouchi's shell-shocked gaze.
Tonight and tomorrow. Maybe even for the rest of their lives. One day, Seto would give voice to the whole truth.
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ultrafangirlishness · 7 months
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"Four tickets to Barbie, please."
Inspired by the outfits my friends and I wore to the theater on opening night :)
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hefty-haunches · 9 months
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Hehe- it occurs to me I was thinking Alek when I said Dani, so ofc the Alek lore would be lovely too! Really just adore all these folks, you have a good cast of OCs!
aaa thank you!!
Alek, the original girl of my cast.
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Alek is probably the most fleshed out character in my roster, or at least has the most idle world building thrown in around her. Much like my dragon Vera, Alek is another former human within her setting, though this time it was more intentional.
As part of her astronaut training she chose to become a post-human in order to be better suited to her life being predominantly off-planet. This is mostly hand-waived in setting as making them better adjusted to living in micro gravity, genetic makeup being more resistant to radiation, general animal traits that might make them better at different tasks (like being a limber leopard when working in and around equipment). This is usually a bit drawn out, the changes occurring over the course of a few weeks as candidates complete their final courses, having selected a specialization. I came to coining this as "Space Animal HRT" in the time since I started my own transition. That being said, it is very common to see furry post-human folks around both planetside and off world, space program or otherwise.
Alek started off as "Aleksey" for the first year or two of them actually solidifying as a fursona. I ended up keeping this part of em in canon and had Alek go back and transition as well, becoming the Aleksandra of today.
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(still one of my favorite Aleksey pics, done by t0ddnet over on twitter!)
Born on the moon and went back to work on the surface post-graduation in a settlement around Mare Nubium (because I couldn't help having a clouded leopard in the Sea of Clouds). Later transferred up to an orbiting station where she works as engineering/maintenance staff, keeping the place up and running.
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Work gets busy, rations are plentiful, and all that floating around does a number on your figure even with a compression bodysuit.
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Bringing us to probably my favorite shape I've drawn her in myself up until this point. Marshmallow Moon Cat. Soft, round, but still surprisingly limber. Maybe she ought to turn down jobs that involve tight spaces nowadays.
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magicicephoenix · 2 months
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i need to go pound joey drew into a pulp RIGHT NOW
#diction dump#joey drew#batim#HIS SPEECH AT TBE END OF BATDR MAKES ME JDLABRLELWL#SCREAMINF AT TVE SCREEN#JUST SHUT!! UPP!!!#okay i’m normal now. i hate him so much#he praises audrey about being his first creation of life when the ink demon is literally RIGHT THERE.#like. do you want to be good or not?? of course bendy kills you! you’re being an asshole! you suck!!#oh my godd i need to fling him around a room ragdoll style. crush him into smithereens. rrrgrghh#he comes across so disingenuous.. like. i don’t care if audrey’s your precious shining moonlight. she’s also The One Who Came Out Right.#meanwhile The One Who Came Out Wrong is SEETHING with hatred for you! do you not see the consequences of your words?!#“i know you’re in there” like the ink demon isn’t sentient?? like audrey’s just stuck someWHERE not with someONE?#and bendy’s so so angry. of course he is! his creator (well. a copy of him) is saying TO HIS FACE that he’s just a monster. a mistake.#that he’s NOTHING. and most infuriatingly that this stupid OTHER who had the privilege of coming out right is EVERYTHING!#why does she get that? why did she get so lucky? where was all this compassion when it was him? why did he never feel this love?#and so he lashes out. obviously. all he’s ever been is a monster because all he’s ever been TAUGHT is how to be a monster#and who taught him that? who forced him into that? that’s right. the biggest monster around.#so i’m sorry if i don’t find your little speech to be heartfelt joey. you’re a long way away from saying anything truly GOOD.#phew. okay. needed to get that off my chest.
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