#even if I still think their aesthetic is kinda silly

[troius]

What we learned from the war

"Endings are hard" is a something of a truism, but it's borne out in Bleach, where every story arc besides after the first two stumbled at the finish (even the endings of the first two arcs don't really "end" so much as continue into a new story). In the Arrancar arc, the number of characters and plotlines got so overwhelming that an ending that had to be rushed if it was to arrive at all. In the Lost Agent arc, the characters were pared down, but the ending wound up thematically inconsistent with the story anyways, possibly due to real-life circumstances. And the Thousand-Year Blood War somehow managed to have both problems.

The change in direction from "tightly focused character drama" to "sprawling cast of soldiers" meant that it was unlikely to ever give us the development of our protagonist that we craved, and that lack of focus was only aggravated by the widely-reported health problems of the author. And yet, perhaps because we don't get that, because so little of this arc is filtered through Ichigo learning about himself, we get a much clearer statement of the values inherent in the work.

This is most evident in our antagonists for this Arc. Yhwach and the Wandenreich don't really have the relationship with Ichigo that previoius antagonists had. He never knew his Quincy heritage, never identified with their ideals, and so feels very little conflict about opposing them. He doesn't ever develop his Quincy powers, at least beyond integrating them with his already existing powerset. And he doesn't take much of a personal interest in Yhwach, who in turn, doesn't seem to think much of him when he's not directly in front of him.

But for all that Ichigo doesn't end up having much of a dynamic with them, the Wandenreich still manages to maintain a unique character. Every antagonist has a priority, something that they are willing to do great evil for. For Soul Society, it's its own existence, the continuation of the system they've built. For Aizen, it's his own self-aggrandizement. For the Fullbringers, it was simply living another day, screwing over others so that they can't screw you first. But the Wandenreich has no such priority. They simply want it all to end.

That's most obvious in Yhwach's ending monologue, but you can see it from the very beginning as he kills Yamamoto, the man who tried to move on from his bloody past being slaughtered by the man who would absolutely not let it go. Yhwach shows more emotion towards the skeletons of Argola and Huberdt, his dead soldiers from a war long lost, than he does towards any of his living subordinates. And his subordinates follow his lead in showing no love to one another, happily stabbing each other in the back without even the Arrancars' uneasy level of camaraderie. Their movement has no future, and neither do they, so nihilism is the only recourse.

Most of the time. I think it's important to note that every time a member of the Wandenreich expresses positive feelings towards one of their comrades, it's immediately followed by them turning on Yhwach. Liltotto, Bazz, Giselle, eventually, in her own twisted way…even Jugram, at the very end. Sure, Yhwach kills them for their impertinence (he is the bad guy), but he also massacres the Wandenreich faithful en masse. There's no salvation, only death, and he'll enforce that state on his followers rather than allow them to discover any alternative.

I imagine the lesson, and the general attitude of the Wandenreich, was not lost on Uryu Ishida. Even in his relative paucity of appearances, it's he who is at the moral center of the arc. His culture, which he had thought was nearly entirely dead, turns out to be alive, and out for vengeance against the people who exterminated them. It's something he probably fantasized about growing up, and I don't blame him for joining. How could he not?

But at the end, he makes the very easy choice. Calling it a matter of "life and death" is a little on the nose, but it's morally quite black and white. Yhwach has no hope for this world, or for his people within it, or even himself. He lost a war for the nature of existence to a monster a thousand years ago, and never got over it. But Uryu has the strength to look at the horrors of this world and yet hope for better. Because he has people he loves in life, and who love him in return, he can dream of a better tomorrow.

And that's what the ending is all about. Yhwach loses to Ichigo, and it is very much "good guy beats bad guy". But he also loses to Uryu, and to "I hope to have a family with my girlfriend who I love so much" Renji Abarai, and to "I have a tremendous amount of hope to eventually make myself king of everything" Sosuke Aizen, and eventually (in a way I'm still confused about mechanically) to the child Ichigo and Orihime will eventually have, the literal embodiment of the potential of the future.

The final villain of Bleach is not society's tendency to preserve itself at any human cost. It's not individual selfishness, or manipulativeness, or any of the many vices we saw embodied in the hollows throughout the series. It's despair, the idea that life might not be worth living even through all the struggles and horrors our protagonists have endured. Sure, it will always raise its head, sometimes at the most inconvenient, or ill-fitting times. But having its reincarnation be blown away by the supernaturally normal lives of our cast…well, that's as clear of a message as I can imagine.

[whompthatsucker1981]

you said you think gay sex cats is the new duchamp's fountain. i dont disagree and i kinda see what you mean already but please elaborate

it was a silly and tongue in cheek way to say that a lot of people are getting mad about it in a way that implies reactionary views on art, and that there's no way to say gay sex cats isn't art that wouldn't also imply that the fountain isn't art. a funny meme image is a funny meme image, but it is also funny to overthink and recontextualize them as art.

and the reaction makes the comparison even more apt. neural net generated artworks are anonymized mass produced images, vast majority having no artistic pretension or meaningful content such as a thomas kinkade painting. gay sex cats was made with no intent to be art, but the discourse it has with audience reaction and its appropriation in derivative works make it so. why is gay sex cats not art if people talking about it negatively allow it to be called art? is art only things you find beautiful and valuable? if so, what is value and beauty, and how do you draw the line? if gay sex cats was still ai generated but had more "aesthetic qualities" would it be art? if someone copies the original image by hand with all its ai generated faults where is the value generated? does the original still have no merit of its own, even after appropriation as a digital ready-made?

but the main reason as to why gay sex cats is comparable to the fountain still is because it made a lot of people with bad takes on art really really mad. and that the pissed off tags wouldn't look out of place as reaction to modern art in the 1920s. art is a flat circle

EDIT: well. putting an addendum because in retrospect more people took either or both the op and image in face value and much more self serious than ever intended. a lot of people understood the tone i was getting at, and i still stand by the questionings i added on, but still for clarification. the original comparison is not serious. it's self evidently ridiculous to compare a meme image to a historically significant artwork, the comparison was only drawn because they were both controversial to an audience, who reacted denying their status as respectively as an image and as art, and that it was funny that the negative reaction people had to the original image explicitly denied its status as art, even if the meme never had pretension to be art, so it was funny to draw a comparison and iterate on that.

i did think it was valid to bring in questionings about art and meaning because that's the reaction i saw most and wanted to make people think about the whys, and that also i do not think it's valid to base your dislike on ai art on either grounds of questioning its position and value as artwork, or even as a question of ip theft. regular degular handmade art can be soulless, repetitive, thoughtless, derivative, unethical, open and blatant theft, and much more, and that does not make it any less of an artwork. neural nets are tools that generate images by statistic correlation through human input.

the unambiguous issue with neural nets in art is its use as a tool by capital, to threaten already underpaid and overworked working artists and to keep their labor hostage under threat of total automation. in hindsight i regretted not adding the paragraph above as it was a way in which people could either misinterpret or assume things about me, but hindsight is hindsight and there's no way to predict how posts would blow up. so shrugs. i had written more posts in my blog that elaborated on that because asks would bot stop coming. and i think my takeaway is that people will reblog anything with a funny image without reading the words around it, or even closely looking at the image.

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

this may be hard to answer because we don’t actually know the characters too well yet, but what do you think vox and val actually *love* about eachother? it seems like it’s more than just sex between them, and i’m curious to know what you think their relationship is like outside the toxic or sexual parts

Anon, to me it is not hard to answer at all, I think about it constantly 🩵❤️ of course all I write is based mostly on my headcanons and interpretations.

So... What Vox loves about Valentino? First and foremost, he makes him feel free. Vox is very self-conscious; he has a lot of internalized shame that he tries to cover with his grandiosity and fake smile. Valentino is unapologetically himself, and no matter how annoying it can be, Vox admires it. He's like the least judgmental person, and except for his temper tantrums, he's quite chill. Vox can't handle something? Val doesn't care; he still thinks his boyfriend is smart and will figure shit out eventually. Vox discovers he's into some weird, socially unacceptable kink? Great, they can try it. Vox rambles for hours about sharks? Good, he has a passion; Valentino likes people with passion, he will listen, he likes his voice anyway. Vox, who has spent his whole life crafting this perfect narrative about himself, cherishes the opportunity to feel comfortable enough with other people (a lot of these things apply also to his friendship with Velvette) to act like an absolute idiot around them.

Also, I think Valentino can be a really amazing boyfriend - he can be funny, charming, and mindful of the other person. That's his whole thing; he deals with desires, and that's why people get addicted to him so quickly. In most cases, it inevitably ends with him taking absolute control over the other person and becoming abusive. But Vox is his partner, so he gets just those nice bits because Valentino knows he wouldn't be able to put him down like he did with Angel. Not that he'd want to; he likes having a partner who's equal to him, whom he can break only if he allows him to do so (yes, my reading of them is very BDSM-ish, don't @ me). Valentino wants to be loved, he loves the idea of love, surrounds himself with hearts but at the same refuses to adjust to societal norms in the way that makes him unlovable; every person he ever loved (in his mind, his obsessive desire equals love) rejected him eventually after he revealed his true nature to them. But not Vox. Vox accepts him as broken as he is, and despite all his toxicity, Vox is reliable, he's the most stable part of Valentino's life. He has the patience to deal with his mood swings, he can always find the solution when Val messes something up, he's willing to accept all the attention Valentino wants to give him, and he supports his passions (ruining lives, making weird porn and abusing people).

Essentially, their love is largely about finally finding the other person who is as bad as you are, who accepts you no matter what and helps you grow (become an even worse person).

And some additional things:

Valentino really likes how smart Vox is. He himself is impulsive and acts instantly on his urges because violence is always an answer so he's kinda impressed when Vox presents him with some elaborate plots.

Vox loves Valentino's creativity, aesthetic, and attention to detail. He really likes nice things, but he lacks the ability to understand the nuance that is necessary for creating art.

They both enjoy each other's sense of humor.

Vox really likes that Valentino is kinda dumb? He can take care of him, and he likes taking care of people because it allows him to prove himself as The Best Boyfriend. He doesn't necessarily gets the idea of unconditional love, so the fact that he has an opportunity to earn it makes him feel more secure in their relationship. That's also why he loves spoling Valentino with gifts which is perfect because Valentino loves being spoiled.

Valentino likes being a little silly when he's with Vox. At work he can't manage people with his competence, so he does it with fear. But yelling and throwing people around is exhausting; he sometimes wants to bedazzle his gun while watching some trashy reality TV and bitching about his hard day at work. It's okay because Vox is also a little silly.

Valentino generally helps Vox live life more. He helped him come out of the closet (in my headcanon Vox for his whole life struggled with internalized biphobia); shows him that emotions other than anger are acceptable and don't mean weakness; even small things like always insisting on getting nice meals (while Vox could live his whole life on black coffee and rice) or decorating their apartment with fancy yet useless stuff.

They're both power-crazy maniacs, so the idea of being with someone who is widely desired by others and could destroy them if they wished is just so incredibly hot.

Vox | Valentino | What they hate about each other

If you liked these you should definitely check out my fic

[fairestwriting]

I saw and loved your piece about an S/O that's like a heater. What about the absolute opposite? I'm always kinda cold. Would love to be warmed up by Jack :) thank you ever so much!

Ace Trappola

Knowing how easily you get cold, Ace is ready to be a little bastard and put his cold hands on your neck first chance he gets. What he didn't know, though, was that even your neck already felt like an icicle in this weather, maybe even colder than his hands?

Despite his occasional little bastard-ing about it, he thinks it's sort of endearing. He tries to play it cool most of the time, to be the suave boyfriend who lends you his jacket when you're cold. This fails pretty miserably because he starts freezing his ass off, but you can tell he cares.

You can get your revenge for his little prank (which he will repeat, because even if it doesn't startle you a lot, it still startles you) by making he experience how chilly you feel whenever you cuddle up to him. He'll get startled and complain about it all dramatic, but you can sense that he feels sort of proud that he's warming you up now.

Deuce Spade

Takes every opportunity to fuss over you, gets all worried if he doesn't see you wearing a jacket. Like Ace, he'll lend you his without hesitation, except he manages to be "cooler" about it since he doesn't get cold as easily. He's still all worried about you, though.

He's easily flustered by touch no matter the circumstance, but he's also dead set on keeping you warm. Initiates hugs a lot more, the possible excuse of "not wanting you to catch a cold" makes him a little bolder. It's hard for anyone to pry you off each other.

He probably has things like scarves and sweaters his mother knitted for him that don't fit anymore, and if they fit you, he's downright overjoyed to hand them over. Some of them look a little silly in the way that homemade knit clothing usually does, but it's kind of impossible to refuse him. He loves them, and he loves seeing you on them.

Jack Howl

Yeah, he is the ideal boyfriend for this scenario. Having lived in a cold place for most of his life, he does know a lot about how to stay warm!

...Which means, he knows when he doesn't have to be cuddling you for you not to freeze, but one time or another, he'll use it as an excuse to stay glued to you for a bit, saying it's the best you can do now to stave off the cold. He blushes while he mumbles out his very clear lie.

Even harder to pry him off you than it is with Deuce. Whether it's summer or winter. You know, he is way warmer than a human, so when it's hot, it's his turn to cool down on you. It's the perfect excuse to get all that PDA he's usually too shy to go for.

Epel Felmier

Out of the three who would try to play the "cool boyfriend giving you his jacket when you're cold" trope, Epel is the one who actually pulls it off perfectly. He does get worried, of course, but he's not nearly as fussy as Deuce, and he's pretty tolerant to cold. Maybe a little too much. You two will be an interesting sight during winter, when he's walking around wearing a scarf and gloves at most, and you're all bundled up.

If you like hot apple cider, or apple pie, or anything warm that involves apples, you're getting an endless supply of it. Some from leftovers he gets after visiting his family on werkends, and some made by his own hand.

(He's a little embarrassed to admit he made them, though, because while they're good, aesthetics really aren't his forte. But he's trying his best.)

Sebek Zigvolt

Still runs considerably colder than you, but it still spooks him. You're not fae cold, sure, but still? Is that really normal for a human? He expects answers.

Winter is... not very kind to either of you, needless to say. It's not that he gets cold in the traditional way, but it does a number on his energy. Even then, he'll still spare some to scold you if he thinks you're underdressed.

...Sometimes Sebek exaggerates a little. It's honestly just because he doesn't know a lot about how warmth works for the human body. But giving you a second pair of earmuffs when you already have one on is still one of his ways of showing that he cares about you.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

[mypimpademia]

So idk if you write for Kiri, but you know how kirishima is kinda like a total boys boy? Like a gym bro, kinda hyper masc? Well do you think you can write him with a hyper fem/hello kitty kinda girl? Like he always thought that he would be with kinda a gym girl, or someone more his speed with that kind of stuff, but instead he falls in love with a girl who always is wearing pink and something hello kitty themed? And how once he tells the bakugo buddy bunch about his crush on her they totally bully him for it (lovingly ofc)

Or maybe denki? I love both the silly boys bc iykwim they jus so adorable!

Like denki has a type, and [insert reader name] did not meet the standards of that, but little sparky boy did not think he would fall in love with her so quicky, especially because she's jus so feminine, and not necessarily that it's bad, he is just so confused on why they feel the need to dress like that. He's not opposed to trying new things or matching outfits tho.....

GAGAHSJRD SORRY I WROTE ALOT THERE ANTWYAS LOVE YOUR STUFF YOUR AMAZINGGGGGGGGGGG XX THANK YOU YOU DONT HAVE TO UF YOU DONT WANNA SHDJFJF

— Contrast

Kirishima x Hyperfem! Fem!Reader

TW: Swearing

Note: YOURE PERFECTLY FINE, I LOVE IT WHEN PEOPLE GO INTO DETAIL WITH REQUESTS🫶🏾 TYSM FOR SUPPORTING I HOPE YOU ENJOY LOVELY💖💖

— KIRISHIMA

⇶ Eijiro himself was confused when he developed feelings for you

⇶ He would never tell you this now, or probably ever, but you were nothing like the type of girl he imagined himself with

⇶ He always thought he’d date a girl that was similar to him interest wise, athletic, very fitness focused, into stuff like protein shakes

⇶ Not to say that it was bad that you weren’t like that, but it just wasn’t expected

⇶ Even the Bakusquad was perplexed when he revealed that he had a crush on you

“No fucking way.”

Eijiro waved off Denki’s response, slumping into the sofa with a sigh.

“Hey, don’t be an asshole! What’s wrong with Y/n? She’s cool and pretty!” Mina defended, shoving Denki by his shoulder.

He groaned dramatically, jokingly rubbing his arm in the spot she made contact with.

“I don’t mean it like that,” he explained. “She’s just the complete opposite of what Eiji always said he was lookin’ for in a girl.”

“No fuckin’ kidding, have you seen the girls room? It’s like she set off a pink paint bomb in there,” Bakugo chimed in.

“I like it!” Mina exclaimed.

“Yeah, I wonder why,” Bakugo muttered, earning a pillow to the face from Mina in response.

“I dunno, I kinda like it. It’s cute, and it’s actually a really nice contrast to me and my usual type,” Eijiro said.

“Yeah, you guys would look good together,” Denki, urged. “Honestly, I was gonna go for her, but I’ll let you have her!”

Eijiro rolled his eyes at the cocky remark from his friend.

“Let him? It’s that Denki for ‘I couldn’t pull her if I tried?’ Or?” Mina teased.

“Hey, what happened to ‘don’t be an asshole,’?”

⇶ When you do eventually get together, Eijiro comes to love your hyperfeminine all pink aesthetic

⇶ At first, the constant stares of all your stuffed animals would scare him when he slept over, and he had more nightmares of them attacking him than he’d like to admit

⇶ But now, your room is his favorite place to sleep, especially after a good workout and shower

⇶ Loves seeing you all dolled up whenever you go out anywhere

⇶ Sending him daily fit pics is a REQUIREMENT.

⇶ Calls you his doll all the time because that’s what you remind him of when you’re all dressed up in some frilly outfit and covered in pink from head to toe

⇶ Doesn’t understand the obsession with Sanrio and Hello Kitty and why you incorporate it into all your outfits, but he loves guessing the names of whatever character(s) you have on your clothes that day and gets so happy when he guesses right

⇶ And even though he doesn’t understand, he still buys you anything Sanrio that he sees in the store because he knows you’ll like it

⇶ If you make him watch Hello Kitty and Friends with you though, Eijiro will quickly learn to love it and know all the characters names by heart

⇶ Gets you both sleep masks of your favorite characters as well as matching pajamas

⇶ Eijiro might just love your cutesy aesthetic more than you, even though it’s not exactly what he gravitates towards for himself

⇶ Although you weren’t necessarily the type of person he expected to fall for, he could never imagine himself with anyone else <3

—

Taglist: @megurulvr @ivanari @planetlunaa @romiantic @szaplsdropthealbum @dreampurpledreams @goldenglow149 @gender-queery @roaringlion @cosmiles @tatiquichi @kxtsxkii @lillizxzz @starsoir @nikorubakugou @ruubric

Send in an ask or DM me to be added to all taglists, or fill out my form to be added to select ones.

—

Thank you for reading, comments and reblogs are appreciated! Follow for more!

[sambvcks]

of first, second, third, fourth meetings, e.m. x reader

pairing: eddie munson x fem! reader

summary: The first time we met we hated each other. You didn’t hate me, I hated you. And the second time we met, you didn’t remember me. I did too, I remembered you. The third time we met, we became friends. We were friends for a long time. And then we weren’t. And then we fell in love. – When Harry Met Sally.

warnings: cursing (like a lot), holding not-so lifelong grudges, mention of stage fright, head-cannoning that eddie was kinda a jerk before he was given a proper thump in the head, so divergent from the actual events of season 4 it’s scary, celebration of Christmas (exchanging of gifts).

word count: 5.1k (HUH???)

author’s note: AKA Eddie Munson + RomCom tropes = Perfection. Eddie deserves to be happy. Season 4? Never heard of her. (no fix it fics in this house, we actively pretend it didnt happen)

[ read on ao3 | masterlist | inbox ]

first meeting.

Looking back, it’s so silly to remember the things that seemed so important to the freshman version of yourself. One week, it was some science project that escaped your mind the second it was turned it. The next, it would be the new shoes your mom bought you – off brand and noticeably so. The other girls had real Converse, why did you have to settle for the Payless knockoffs? One particular week, it was talent show try outs.

You had been rehearsing your song day and night, much to your mom’s chagrin. Her overnight shifts only afforded a preciously small window for sleep, something you tried your very best to not disturb (you still did). You had even laid out your best outfit – a hand me down blouse and tweed skirt that you had tailored to fit a little shorter than your mom approved of.

The line of acts auditioning was slowly dwindling, leaving you and a gaggle of boys that looked like they had walked straight off of a Metallica poster to exist solely as every parent’s worst nightmare. They were each absentmindedly fiddling with their instruments, fine tuning and flipping drumsticks as they awaited their turn, contrasting heavily with your noticeably panicked state.

“Do you mind? I think you’re gonna leave a dent in the floor with all your pacing.” Grumbled their leader.

Eddie Munson.

Easily recognizable with his growing hair and the spattering of patches of bands you had never heard of across his jean vest. He was loud. Loud enough that even newly christened Hawkins High School freshmen like you knew his reputation and, more importantly, knew to avoid him if you had a good head on your shoulders. Which you liked to think you did.

Still, who were you to judge, with your barely elevated trailer park aesthetic, homemade lunches, and hair you cut yourself? Benefit of the doubt, you decided. Maybe Eddie Munson wasn’t the devil-worshipping cultist he had garnered the reputation of. Maybe he was just misunderstood, an outcast but a good guy.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, steadying yourself against a wall and hoping beyond hope that he would leave it at that. You could still feel his eyes, though, skirt across your fidgeting form.

“Nervous?”

As if it wasn’t obvious. Your nails had been chewed to the nub and the skirt you had altered was starting to fray at the edge from your constant fiddling with it.

“No need to be, the people running this thing have no idea what real music sounds like. We’ve tried every year, still no takers.” He gestured back to his group of misfits, who only seemed half interested in the conversation. “But you seem top 40. Let me guess…Madonna? Will they let you sing ‘Like a Virgin’ at a school talent show? We’re playing ‘Rainbow in the Dark’. Ever heard of it?”

This drew the attention of the other boys, who cackled like he had told some life-changing joke.

“I-I-” You tried, but Eddie was quicker.

“Jesus, if you’re this nervous before the audition, imagine you up there! Stage lights on you, no one there to save you. You’d just-” His hands wrapped around his own neck, tongue sticking out and eyes rolling back as he pretended to struggle for breath.

Oh, no. Eddie Munson wasn’t a misunderstood good guy. He was an asshole.

Before you could come up with some half-assed retort, the gym door was swinging open. The person ahead of you, Tammy Thompson, was walking out with her head held high. No doubt the teachers they had roped into running the talent show this year had given some sort of standing ovation and maybe even got down on their knees in praise. If they were feeling particularly frisky. Your name was called and you were ushered in so quickly your head spun.

“Good luck.” A teasing voice followed behind you.

You totally choked. Haunted by Eddie fucking Munson and the echoes of his band’s laughter, you were barely able to get two lines out without the air hitching in your lungs. The tears came next as you high tailed out of there without an explanation.

Munson and his friends were still loitering around, awaiting their turn. You wondered, briefly, if they were forced to the end of the auditions in hopes that they would just give up and spare everyone the trouble. You marched past them, eyes stinging and lip quivering as you spat out a single “fuck you” in their general direction.

When the list of acts was pinned to the bulletin board the next morning, you weren’t too surprised to not see your name amongst the ranks.

You did feel a little more than satisfied when Corroded Coffin wasn’t, either.

Within a week, the whole ordeal was forgotten with the announcement of a five page English paper on foreshadowing in Romeo and Juliet. Eddie Munson and his band of freaks were out of your mind, too. High school was funny like that.

second meeting.

Taking up an after-school job on top of your weekend babysitting/tutoring duties was a no brainer. The bills on your kitchen table continued to pile up and your mom’s hours kept getting cut shorter and shorter. She hadn’t explicitly asked you, but as soon as you turned sixteen you applied at the music store on Main Street without debate.

The owner, a lonely old man named Bill, had made plenty of conversation with you whenever you went in to rifle through the discount record section in the past. You had a pension for finding the diamond in the rough, the no name artists that were subjected to the back of the crates, something Bill respected about you. Even with zero experience, he happily hired you on the spot.

So, after band practice you would work a quick five-hour shift and zoom home to pour over homework until you made a half-assed midnight dinner before your mom had to leave for her night shift.

It wasn’t all bad. The bags accumulating under your eyes were minimized when Bill sold you his old, beat-up Volkswagen for a week’s pay. Way under value – even for the gas guzzling, unreliable hunk of junk, but Bill was something like the grandfather you never had. At least, you were the granddaughter he never had.

You were independent, no matter now little sleep you really got. And you got to chat all day about your one true love – music. You weren’t all top 40. You assisted old ladies in picking out records for their grandkids, helped couples looking for a copy of their favorite song, introduced new artists to unlikely fans.

Then, on an ordinary Tuesday, in he came.

Eddie Munson.

His car was almost as loud and worthy of the junkyard as yours was, so it was difficult to miss his impending arrival.

You hadn’t really thought about him since Freshman year, two years prior, willing yourself to forget one of your most embarrassing memories. It seemed it was just as easy for Eddie to forget, as he paraded in with an easy smile and a casual greeting. He perused the shelves for a few minutes, oblivious to the bubbling rage in your gut, which manifested as the harshest glare you could manage.

“Hey, uh-” He glanced down at your name badge, “Sorry to bother. You guys got the new Metallica yet? This is, like, the fourth place I’ve been to.”

His smile was almost charming. He was certainly easier to look at now, even with his still unruly hair and fading jean vest. So similar to that day three years ago that you almost felt fourteen again, shrinking under his unwavering stare. It was something you refused to admit even to yourself, how he never shrunk under pressure. He took the absolute vitriol spewed at him daily and dished it back just as easily. He had grown into his gangly limbs, jaw more defined and the hint of a tattoo peeking from under the collar of his shirt. If you hadn’t sworn to hate his living guts until the day one of you was put six feet under, you might even call him attractive.

But you weren’t fourteen anymore, and you certainly weren’t letting him get the last laugh this time.

“Sure, follow me.”

“Sweet. While I have you, any recommendations?”

“Broadening your horizons, Munson?”

He seems startled that you know him, as if he wasn’t solely responsible for a week’s worth of tear-stained fits of rest. If anything, he looked a little nervous that you did know him. Like you would turn on your heel and kick the troublemaker out. No Metallica, no service.

“Uh, sort of.” His head tilted as he followed closely behind your determined steps, craning for another glance at your face. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“I go to Hawkins. How’s your second senior year treating you, by the way?”

Okay, maybe that was a low blow. But he started it, right? Either way, he seemed unphased by the question.

“Ah. It’s, uh, riveting. Really getting the most out of Mr. William’s Chem class the second time around. Might take it again just for the fun of it.”

You almost laugh, but you won’t give him the satisfaction.

“Here.” You pull the new Metallica from its display, the only copy available. “And my recommendation.” You hand over Rio’s Holy Diver, an album you were sure he had listened to backwards if the hand-stitched t-shirt adorning the back of his vest was any indicator. “It’s all great, but my personal favorite is ‘Rainbow in the Dark’. Ever heard of it?”

You watched, satisfied, as the wires in his brain began to piece this interaction together, firing faster than maybe they ever had before. His jaw fell, eyebrows shooting up beyond his shaggy bangs.

“I do know you! You’re-”

“The girl whose dreams of musical stardom you dashed in a single day. Finally, he remembers!”

“Jesus, it’s been, what? Two years?”

“Try three.” You snatched the cassette back, placing it delicately back on the shelf.

“Wow. You’ve, uh, changed a bit.”

Your nails, once a pristine Ballerina Slipper Pink were now a chipped charcoal black. The blouse and tailored skirt he had seen you in before was now replaced by a slightly too big ‘Bill’s Music’ t-shirt and jagged black jeans. You had found a bit of grunge and, if Eddie was pressed on the matter, he would admit that it looks good on you.

“Yeah, well. Someone stole away my dreams of fame, so I’ve fallen into a life of crime and rock and roll.” You maneuvered back to the register, hoping to end this interaction as quickly as it had started. If you were quick enough, Eddie Munson would be gone in a cloud of exhaust smoke from his shitty van in the next five minutes.

“I need to tell you, I still feel like an asshole about that.”

Oh. Oh shit. In all your fantasies about finally getting back at Eddie Munson – slashing his tires, stealing that stupid tin lunchbox he always carried around with him, maybe framing him for some crime – never did it include him actually feeling guilty. You had built him up in your mind as some soul-less villain, preying on the misfortunate.

“I talk a big game, but I still think about you running out crying. There’s no excuse, I’m just a natural dick, I guess.” He seemed almost shy, now. Haunted, even. Fingers fiddling with the edge of his coveted cassette. “I’m sorry.”

What were you to do? You could really stretch it out, let him feel that sinking gut feeling of guilt that would maybe match that fear you had felt on that stage three years ago. You could demand a public apology; he had no trouble making a fool out of himself if his lunchtime outburst were any indicator. But your mom had always taught you to be the bigger person.

“No big deal.” Sometimes you hated your mom and how her voice always rings in your head. “Already forgotten.”

His cassette was purchased, but not without him apologizing around another fifty times. He did disappear in a cloud of exhaust, his van puttering down the street and the faint tones of Metallica blasting through his window. His scent lingered, though, cheap cologne and cigarettes. You hated to think that you didn’t really mind it.

third meeting.

It was a little embarrassing, honestly. Cozying up to a group of freshman boys you had saved the world with was not on your senior year bucket list. Yet, you found yourself huddled around a corner table in the cafeteria, trying to map out the ins and outs of high school life to them.

Really, Robin was to blame. Robin - your talkative junior year Italian 3 desk mate - and your inexplicable hobby of linguistics which afforded you a basic understanding of the Russian alphabet were the two main culprits to this turn in your social life. Which then had you bunkered down in the Scoops Ahoy backroom attempting to translate a shady recording with Robin, Dustin, and Steve Harrington of all people.

And, sure, maybe the curly haired little weirdo had endeared you somehow. And you somehow found yourself promising Steve to watch over the kid after summer. Driving him around was the worst part – the gas alone was cleaning out a healthy chunk of your weekly paycheck. But his taste in music? You’d smother him before you allowed another Broadway soundtrack to crackle through your car speakers.

You remember the looks you got when you maneuvered the cafeteria as Dustin, Mike, and Lucas waved you over, the open mouth stares as the kids poured out of your Volkswagen on the first day back from Summer break. But fighting a Russian army and some multi-legged creature from another world created an unexplainable bond between the most unlikely of people and, honestly, would you even speak to any of these people after walking the stage at graduation anyway?

In return for your vast high school knowledge – which teachers to avoid, which bathrooms went unmonitored, which days they really needed to pack a lunch - the kids gave you a crash course on all things D&D, filling lunch periods with shitty cafeteria food and outlandish ideas for your blossoming character. They crafted an intricate narrative worthy of their high esteem for their sudden older-sister figure, picturing an elf, ethereal and full of curiosity and kindness.

You just wanted to smash things, but the boys promised the game went well beyond simple violence.

Then, a voice from a table over.

Eddie Munson.

He’d clocked the boys on the first day of school, looking lost and out of place in the hoard of cliques occupying each table. Then, you ushered them over like Galadriel to the lost, broken Fellowship and offered little pieces of yourself, of kindness and zero judgement. He was impressed, allowing you to seep into the recesses of his mind ever since he saw you rip off the sign some junior varsity football player stuck to Dustin’s back that said, ‘KICK THE FREAK!’. He watched, amazed, as you balled up the paper and chucked it in the general direction of laughter, hitting some linebacker square in the face.

Gone was the tear-stained girl running from the gym.

Recently, Eddie had found solace under gym bleachers during lunch, discussing upcoming band rehearsals and Hellfire Club meetings. But a weekend hangover actually had him craving the sorry excuse for cardboard that the school district called pizza, so they’d made the trek into the jungle of a cafeteria.

And there you were. Prettier than he remembered, but he was a stupid boy these past few years and anything beyond bootleg copies of Dio records and plans for upcoming campaigns did not have space in his mind. He’d scooped Henderson out of the bunch, much to your displeasure, and ushered your group over to his table with the promise of adventure beyond their wildest dreams.

The boys were easy. They were eager for any type of structure, particularly from an experienced Dungeon Master who seemed to have an ego of steel and a tongue of venom. You, with your faded t-shirts and your ‘Dungeons and Dragons for Beginners’ book loaned out from Mike’s vast collection felt like jumping out of a plane without a parachute. When Dustin noticed the distinct tension between his two new leaders, he voiced concern.

“We just go way back. Don’t worry. We’ll play nice.” You offered as explanation, seated as far away from Eddie as the small table could manage.

You kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Daily, you wondered when the teasing quips or the taunts would pick up. After all, Eddie was always eager to voice any amount of displeasure. Often, it was other students or teachers who didn’t know how to do their job. Sometimes it was as simple as the sun shining too bright or his bangs not falling the way he favored. But never you. He never had a single negative word to send your way.

Instead, he was patient. He started teaching you the ins and outs of D&D, offering pointers and directions for your character to take. He told you which weapons were worth your time and even gave insight into upcoming battles he had planned, offering you the slightest edge.

Before long, you were hanging out without the kids – which seemed like an impossible task because at least one of them seemed to always be trailing behind one of you. But when you had a late-night shift at Bill’s or Eddie just felt like bugging you (a near daily occurrence), there he was. He helped stock shelves even though that was your main job description, he played his favorite songs over the store loudspeakers, much to the displeasure of the customers, and he was so fucking nice it was driving you up the wall.

“Hey, just so you know, I got my Tuesday night shift switched for Thursday. In case you felt like dropping in again and driving even more customers away.”

Eddie was stationed at the classical section, flipping through records to laugh at the artists’ powdered wigs and cherub cheeks.

“Oh yeah? Got a hot date?”

Your silence spoke wonders.

“Dear lord. Who?” He demanded. You shrugged, not ready for this conversation. “C’mon, don’t be embarrassed. If it makes you feel any better, nobody is good enough for my best friend.”

A term he had adopted when you first let him use your employee discount and had stuck since. Dustin pretended not to be jealous – and a little curious – the first time Eddie had said it in front of the whole group without a single note of sarcasm.

“So, you might as well just tell me.” He wasn’t really paying attention, deft fingers still flicking through a crate of records. You were perched on the register counter, watching the clock at the seconds ticked by endlessly. Sunday night shifts were rough in a town like Hawkins, where everyone was too tired after a hot church service to spend any of their hard-earned money.

“His name is Jake.”

“Ugh. I hate him already.”

“You only know his name!”

“That’s enough. Imagine being named Jake. Depressing.” Eddie finished one crate and moved on to the next. “Sounds like he sells insurance and cheats on his wife.”

“Jesus. It’s one date. A free, hot meal, at worst.”

“That’s what prostitutes say, babe.”

He was always like this. Argumentative and honestly a little annoying. But he was somehow your favorite person in the world because of and despite those things. Maybe you were those things too, and you flew to each other like moths to a flame. Kindred spirits, of sorts. You didn’t have a retort, so you resorted to throwing a coin at him from the Take-A-Penny, which he easily dodged.

“Fine. But when it turns out he’s trying to get you to join his cult, just say-”

“Sorry, I’m already in Eddie Munson’s?”

“Ha ha. Anyways, word of advice? Don’t do that thing you do.”

“Thing? I have a thing?”

“Oh yeah.” Eddie abandoned his crate, hoisting himself onto the counter next to you. His thigh pressed to yours, his hair brushing your shoulder as he silently offered his hand over. You fiddled with his rings, slipping one from his pointer and shoving it onto your thumb. “Your ordering thing. I find it so adorable and endearing but any normal person would probably just put you out of your misery.”

“Sorry if I like things a certain way.”

“Don’t apologize, babe. I like that about you. But it might not be first-date material, y’know?”

You huffed in annoyance but didn’t disagree.

“And if he’s a douche, I’ll plant some pot in his locker and get him expelled or something.”

-

Jake was a total douche.

He was nice, sure. At first. Held open doors, pulled out your chair. All the stuff you had seen in movies Robin made you rent to broaden your horizons. When the time for conversation came, though, it felt…off. There wasn’t that easy back and forth, the endearments and nicknames. It was fumbling for topics and finally settling on extra curriculars.

You’d sat through twenty minutes of him chattering on and on about the basketball team and something called man-defense, but he scoffed at the very mention of Dungeons and Dragons.

“Like that Munson guy? My dad said only Satanists play that shit.”

You politely excused yourself to the bathroom and bolted out of the staff exit before he could get another word out.

And when you appeared at Eddie’s front door, dressed up and visibly annoyed, he didn’t even make a comment. You knew the told you so was sitting on the tip of his tongue, so desperate to make an appearance it was nearly painful for him to hold it back. He just ushered you in, mixtape quickly slotted into his speaker system, and Dio’s ‘Rainbow in the Dark’ sounding off as the soundtrack to Eddie’s quiet comfort.

It was almost as if the date hadn’t happened in the first place, that you both knew you would end up here.

“Any deals tonight?” You asked, so accustomed to the knocks that would interrupt your quiet nights in. Eddie would disappear for no longer than a few minutes, leaving you to twiddle your thumbs on his bed until his return.

“Nah. Wanted to keep my schedule wide open for you.” He was sorting through his most recent supply, acting as if that wasn’t the nicest thing anyone had ever done for you.

You had years filled of missed holidays, forgotten birthdays. You didn’t blame your mom for her horrible boss or her proclivity to ignore the calendar. To think Eddie had pushed aside any other plans for when you would come running had something bubbling in your chest.

Eddie knew you would come. You knew you would end up there, like some sort of escape method. An escape back to Eddie Munson.

If only Freshman you could see you now.

fourth meeting.

Christmas was a notoriously solitary holiday for you. Luckily, this year’s holiday season had been filled to the brim with gifts for the kids on Christmas Eve and a little party at Steve’s place so the ‘adults’ could exchange gifts and just be relaxed for a bit – free from high school and work and otherworldly monsters.

Eddie had become such a fixture to your life, so easily attached to you that Steve didn’t even bat an eye when he ushered you both into the living room, eagerly accepting Eddie’s version of a Christmas present (a few joints to hand around). Even Nancy, with her big college plans and life scheduled down to the minute, let loose a bit and took a few overeager puffs followed by long bouts of coughing.

Steve and Robin pitched in for a new set of headphones for you, Nancy eagerly watched you unwrap some ungodly floral wrapping paper to unveil a cassette of some UK indie band she swore up and down you would love, something Jonathan had introduced her to.

You had been saving up for the past few months to get gifts deserving of each of your friends. You had spent endless hours obsessing over JC Penny mailers and gossip magazines that swore they knew the secret to buying the perfect gift during slow shifts at Bill’s.

Robin got a new pair of Converse and a pack of Sharpies so she could doodle to her hearts content. Steve got a new Walkman, since he had leant his old one to Dustin who swore up and down that he had returned it. You had even taken the time to get it engraved – Property of Steve Harrington, not Dustin! Nancy got a new journal for all her editorial notes, though you had filled the first page with a few polaroid’s of the group together.

As Steve, Robin, and Nancy got to work on properly defacing Robin’s new shoes, you felt a little nudge on your foot.

Eddie Munson.

Looking sheepish and nodding towards Steve’s kitchen. You followed behind him, hand patting at your back pocket to make sure his gift was properly secured. At least the other three had the decency to pretend to not be interested in whatever was developing.

“So I, uh, thought a lot about what to get you.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Eds.”

He rolled his eyes – his default facial expression when it came to you - and fished in his pocket for a second. A chain clinked as it dangled from his hand, offering it up for judgement.

“A guitar pick?”

“Not just any guitar pick, babe.” His fingers worked to unhook the latch. “Believe it or not, this is the very guitar pick I used when Corroded Coffin auditioned for that bogus talent show.” He latched the necklace around your neck as delicately as he could, hands lingering as he watched it fall to your collarbone. “The day we first met. The best day of my life.” He finally pulled away; eyes still glued to his guitar pick on your neck. “Y’know, besides the whole making you cry thing.”

“Eds, you absolute sap.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up about it.” He stepped back, and it felt like it was the first breath of air you had taken since walking into the kitchen. “Would’ve given you something worth more, like my soul or something. But you know that thing is long gone.”

“Well, my gifts no better.” You promised, fishing in your own pocket. “Here.”

His eyes scanned over the tickets you offered up.

“No way.”

“Yeah, they’re playing in Fort Wayne next month. We’ll probably die from altitude sickness from how high our seats are.” You shrugged. “But they’ll probably play ‘Rainbow in the Dark’, right?”

Eddie Munson, with his loudmouth and unwavering ability to find any situation hilarious was struggling to form a single coherent thought here. The way you looked with his pick around your neck certainly wasn’t helping either. His vision felt hazy, his ears were ringing in and all he could see was you. You, with your stupid optimism and endless music trivia. You, his best friend.

Was it normal to think about shoving your tongue down your best friend’s throat?

Eddie thought back to the last campaign you had barely concluded before Winter break. You and Dustin carried the party, right down to the wire. You were beaten up, barely ten hit points left between the two of you. Eddie had heavily pushed for a retreat. Orcus was one of the most powerful foes the party had faced to date and the odds were slim. Retreat, he had advised them. Retreat and live to fight another day.

Eddie didn’t think he could live another day without being able to kiss you.

No more retreating.

His hands were back around your neck, fingers curling into the newly placed chain. He didn’t even have time to steady himself before his lips were on yours. Aching, needy, desperate for something beyond best friends. Your tickets fluttered to the floor.

You returned in kind, hands gripping at the lapels of his stupid denim vest, the band patches scattered across the material much more familiar to you, now. Your back was pushed into Steve’s granite countertop painfully. You curled even further into Eddie, mouth eagerly opening for him as one hand traveled down your sternum, side, before settling at your waist.

A finger hooked into a loop in your jeans, pulling your hips flush to his.

You stepped on his sneakers in your eagerness to get closer, as close as you possibly could. He didn’t mind, hand weaving into your hair to tilt your head back, desperate both for a breath of air and a better view of his guitar pick disappearing beneath your blouse.

“How long?” You asked, wondering how many of those solitary nights camped on his bed, how many of those closing shifts spent thumbing through Beethoven’s classics, how many late-night campaigns could have been substituted for more of this.

“The whole time, I think.” He answered, nose nuzzling into the expanse of your neck. “You?”

“The same. I think.”

A boisterous laugh from the next room over burst your little bubble.

You were in Steve Harrington’s kitchen. It was Christmas night. Eddie Munson was sucking a hickey on the column of your throat like he’d drop dead if he didn’t accomplish his mission.

“I love you.” He pulled back, those doe-eyes finding yours. “You know that, right?”

There had been a time where the very thought of Eddie Munson brought tears to your eyes, memories of that botched audition had you seriously considering dabbling in witchcraft and fashioning a voodoo doll in his likeness. Now, it all felt so warm. Like his mixtape that was surely worn down to the bone with how often you flipped that thing, or his bedsheets tangled in your legs as you spent summer evenings watching him strum his acoustic guitar – the only one his uncle would tolerate at that late hour.

“I know. I love you too.”

It felt like meeting him all over again. This was not the Eddie that had made you cry outside the high school gym. You weren’t the girl who put your name on that audition sign-up sheet. You were just two strangers – deeply, desperately, foolishly destined to love each other until your last breath.

What a perfect introduction.

[moongothic]

To be honest I can kinda see how having a hook instead of a hand prosthetic has its benefits

Hook is easier to mantain than a hand with lots of small moving pats, especially when you don't know shit about it. If something happens to it and it gets broken, it's much easier to replace a hook, even with all layers and poisons

And depending on when in time Crocodile lost his hand he may have just got used to it already

But also yeah, Crocodile is just the type of guy to choose a hook instead of a new hand because looks and aesthetics lol

(sorry for typos btw)

Crocodile's hook is kind of fun because it's a reflection of so many things in the story. Like there's the in-universe lore and character stuff we can look at, but also we can look at it from a meta perspective

Like we know Oda wanted to give certain important characters in the story the Iconic Pirate Traits; the peg leg for Zeff, the hook for Crocodile and an eyepatch he has seemingly been saving up all these years for a special someone (my money's on Mr Burns but that's a different subject). And so Crocodile having the iconic hook is a part of an old pirate-y "vision" Oda wanted to fulfill with One Piece, an OG "goal" from waaay back in the day

But another thing is that Crocodile is very much from The Olden Days of One Piece, more specifically, very much pre-what I'd call the sci-fi era of OP. I'd say One Piece started truly dwelling deeper into that genre and its tropes during Punk Hazard, but Oda didn't even really dip his toes into it until the CP9 Saga (with the introduction of Franky and the namedropping of Doctor Vegapunk). Sure, Oda did already hint at the existence of Vegapunk and his scientific developments back in Alabasta (when Miss Merry Christmas explained that Lassoo was a gun that had eaten a Dog Dog Fruit, this being "the Latest Science from the Grand Line"*), but One Piece was still very much in its more classical fantasy element/genre at this point in the story, so the science fiction that was to come years and decades later was not even present at this point

*(Thinking about it, honestly, how the fuck did Mr 4 get his hands on Lassoo if Lassoo was created by Vegapunk?? Was he a gift from Vegapunk/the WG to Crocodile, maybe????? That Crocodile just secretly gave away to Mr 4????)

In other words, in hindsight it might seem odd Crocodile wouldn't have taken advantage of his position as a Warlord and gotten a prosthetic arm to replace his hook. But Crocodile is a One Piece character from a different era in the story, when advanced prosthetics, cyborgs, robots, clones and so much more were nothing but a twinkle in Oda's eyes. So expecting Crocodile to have lived up to the sci-fi future One Piece wasn't originally going to even get to would be unreasonable.

But the fun thing is that we can actually look at Crocodile and his silly little hook, and spin it in a way that does actually complement his character. We can find in-universe reasons for him to have stuck to a hook over an advanced prosthetic, and they make sense. The most obvious would of course be that Crocodile does not trust anyone. It would be very much unlike him to go to Vegapunk and/or the World Government requesting to be given a prosthetic, because that would mean 1) Leaving himself vulnerable for a period of time so that Vegapunk could actually give him a prosthetic (dangerous) 2) Knowing the WG they would not just give out something like that for free, surely they'd want something from Crocodile in exchange. And, while we know what would become of Kuma eventually (a fate so cruel I'm sure even Crocodile could not have imagined) I'm sure he could have suspected the WG could want to use him for a science experiment or two, something I'm sure Crocodile would never have agreed to. Or maybe the WG/Vegapunk would've wanted Crocodile to pay them an obscene amount of money in exchange for a prosthetic, and/or have him do some other favors. Whatever the case, I'm sure none of these options would have seemed worth it in his mind.

And yeah, what you said.

Maintaining and taking care of a hook would be easier, like if Vegapunk's prosthetics ever broke or malfunctioned for any reason Crocodile would have to make a horrifically long hike all the way from Alabasta to Marijoa, cross the Red Line (to be fair his Shichibukai Status would allow him to go over which would be more convenient than passing through Fishman Island), go to Punk Hazard (or Egghead later on), and then hike aaall the way back to Alabasta again. And Vegapunk's inventions didn't always work as intended, the man had to refine and develop his creations to get them to work the way he wanted them to.

So if the option get a prosthetic was ever brought up to Crocodile by the WG like 10+ years ago, he might've been far more cynical about Vegapunk's ability to actually create a decent prosthetic that worked and wouldn't malfunction/have issues etc. And as you suggested, by that time he probably would have become used to his hook, to the point that he didn't mind keeping it.

And yeah, it would be just a big ol' Luffyism if he preferred the giant, golden, gaudy-ass hook

[scalproie]

wait new fav hc is that even tho the devil gene is, well, genetic and hereditary, the form itself that one takes when transforming into a devil is fully personal to the individual and the state of mind of said individual influence massively how the form will look

Kazuya awoke his devil gene at 5yo, so his devil form looks almost like a child's vision of a what a devil looks like: purple skin, simple bat wings, generic horns... The additional forms his devil form have a more complex design bc he obtained those in adulthood

Jin awoke his devil gene in his late teens, and tho it would seem quite silly for him, I still think the whole jet black wings (association with birds), forward horns, tattoed body, red gemstone in forehead, and fused gloves into claws, is an aesthetic Jin, or a boy of his age back then anyway, would find cool. And the fact that in the first confrontation with DJ in t8 has him wearing clothes shockingly similar to those of Kaz's when Jin still sees his worst self in his father, is interesting to point out. Especially when Jin confront DJ and his past in the second fight and DJ is wearing his first outfit, and in the last fight when Jin accept DJ, DJ is literally wearing Jin's clothes and just looking like him overall

We dont know at what age Kazumi got her devil form, but her connection to the Hachijo clan who seems to have a certain understand of their connection to the devil gene would kinda make sense why she is looking more tradionally japanese than the rest of her family and why she has Azazel-like crystals on her

I assume Reina is around the same age as Jin when he awoke his devil gene but Reina has the knowledge of two devils defore her (Kaz & Jin), so she already has some kind of idea of what a devil SHOULD look like, theres also her hair looking more like Heihachi's and considering how much she admires him...

[plumadot]

Hi hello Pluma 👋🏿

Hope you're doing well!

Got a little bit of a brainstorm for your dnd guys

Big squad is just traveling, or do they have some kind of goal? And – why are they all together?

Is there some particular world building you wanted to introduce, or mb it's just normal Faerun? I really like weird twists, like, then everything is flooded, orrrr maybe then there's no sun in this world! Or they have several moons... Just an idea to think about! :D

I also was thinking of spiderchair a lot-

Just imagine Scar running on the walls and ceilings cuz. Spider chair!!!

And I think Scar is often bored, then they are traveling on foot (he's too active fella to just sit and watch) – mb he has some kind of a hobby to keep his hands busy? Flute is cool and all, but the guy is VERY chatty, (what's why tbh I'm kinda sad he plays flute, no beautiful singing D:) and yea. I was thinking it might be wood carving, bit it's kinda doesn't fit him... Oh, I know! Mb magic tricks ?? I dunno, what do you think? :D

Oh and probably G is often complaining how tired he is from walking on foot... Is there on a chair somewhere a perch for him, or he's just unceremoniously sits on Scar's lap? :DD (Well they still can have horses but. Every horse would despise Grian u'all know that)

Yep... they are definitely The Wanted Criminals... Silly fellas QwQ

hi!!!!! :D <3 <3 <3

they do!! they eh. it's. again it's bits and pieces for now i hope you don't mind gkjdfkgjf. they kinda all have their own goals but they overlap more or less... they're all looking for a certain artefact, even ren's squad is :D i'll try to explain or draw stuff about it once i have all backstories linked up with it and can actually find the words to make it sound plausible LMAO

i'm not sure if i want the world to be very different from "standard" faerûn gfdkgjkfd i like the idea of multiple moons simply for the aesthetic :D and mmmm what's important is that gods are pretty close to mortals and even interfere every now and then. and i suppose the place they're in is coastal, since there's a lot of characters have some kind of connection to the ocean :D

scar is strapped into his spider chair so it should definitely be able to walk on walls!!!! idc if that's overpowered the chair is a magic item ok he gets to have a cool chair!!!!!!!

also yes yes he definitely plays music and doodles a lot!!! :D ohhhh you're right about the singing gfdkjgkjdf maybe i'll also give him a string instrument as a treat :D I'M NOT PICKING FAVOURITES I JUST. YOU KNOW

grian can definitely perch on the chair. and he will. he likes feeling tall :) he uses his flight to scout ahead but it's so very tiring... let him on the chair scar pls...

HFDJKGJDFG i'm so sorry if the things i say about this au make no sense or don't connect or kgfjdkjg i'm not good at this. but i really liked your questions and ideas!!!!!!!!!! ;-;

[snapscube]

Since you just recently beat RE4 in both original and remake, I know you love mostly everything the remake has done, but is there anything that you preferred in the original? Like characters, fights, mechanics, so on.

oh for sure! i actually didn’t realize it as i was playing remake but there were a few more set piece/level cuts than i was expecting! like that level in the original where you’re stuck in the crazy maze contraption thing with the fucked up creature. i kinda miss that bit in hindsight, i could be wrong but i remember having a lot of fun with that! i also wish that the laser sight was compatible with all of the handguns in the game. i get why it’s not, but that laser in the og just hits so right for the aesthetics.

i also definitely think salazar is WAYYYY more memorable in the original. i do not understand why they got rid of his hat. the rest of the remake still manages to be so silly even if they did ground the tone in comparison to original. they could have kept his hat. come on. get real.

[alpaca-clouds]

"But who cares if it is 'punk'?"

Whenever I am talking about the punkness of Cyberpunk and Solarpunk and what not (or the punkness of any of the Punkpunk genre, as I did last week), people will usually come and ask: "But why do you care? So what if it is just an aesthetic? Why not just have people have fun with the aesthetic?"

And I will fully admit to it: Yeah, I can see the point. The world sucks. People should be allowed to have fun with fiction. But I am also too autistic to not care about it. Not necessarily if it is "punk", but at least whether it a) has themes and b) these themes are included in the different stories.

See, one of my big issues in regards to media in general is, that people often do not engage with any themes there are to it. I kinda talked about this too when it comes to people complaining that Gundam - a franchise that inherently is anti-war and often anti-capitalist and anti-colonialist - got political in the moment it featured lesbians as main characters. Which is kinda silly. But the reason for that mindset is of course that people engange with media often on a very superficial level. And while folks on the left are quick at claiming that is a conservative problem... Let's be honest, it is an everyone problem.

Again, I get it. The world sucks. Most of us are overworked and overtired and when we engage with our media we just want to turn off and enjoy. I really, really do get it. I have also some of those just mindless action flicks I will put in and then turn my mind off. Like, who cares whether Tom Cruise is basically Space Jesus propagating a deeply abusive cult. Mission Impossible movies are fun. Who cares about some of their rather... problematic messaging?

But media literacy is important. And I think this is what this boils down to. Because no matter if we engage with it or not: The media we consume subtly influences us and our outlook. No, usually media will not turn a stonch anarchist into a Nazi, or a Nazi into an actual anarchist... But it for sure makes us more susceptible to certain other messaging.

Which is why we need to engage with the themes of any given media and try to understand what it is saying.

As written in that blog about G-Witch and such: There is no apolitical media. Even media that is not really concerned with politics will have a message - usually one along the lines of "The world is just fine as it is right now, do not worry about it!" or "Rugged individualism tots is the way to go!"

Which brings me back to the punk genre. While some were in fact invented as an aesthetic and even in some that primarily got made into genre there is not necessarily a lot of thoughts put into the themes... There are themes that will naturally arise from stuff like the historical context the punk genre is taken from and what not. And especially the "punk" kinda means that it has to challenge something. And be it just genre convention.

And usually, whenever those themes get lost... Well, stories tend to revert back to the exact opposite of that. "Everything is A-Okay - or at least it would be if the power structure was still there but the right people were in power!" And once more: "Rugged individualism WINS THE DAY!" The original themes getting lost, does not mean it gets replaced with emptiness. Just with the standard themes of the media of our times. And... Yeah, to be honest: I am not a fan of that.

The thing I value so much about the concept of the Punkpunk genre is the possibility of playing with counter cultural themes. So, yeah, I care if these themes get lost - or get not even included.

And that is without going into stuff like the non-white origin of Solarpunk kinda getting whitewashed...

[whole-circus]

hi dear ! could you maybe do liu, jane and toby with a reader that collects haunted dolls ? my special interest is spirits and haunted materials so i am super interested in haunted dolls, i’d love to see some cute headcanons with a reader like that ♥︎ maybe add in some gothic lolita fashion too ? thank you ! gn reader would be fine .

Homicidal Liu, Jane the Killer and Ticci Toby with gothic lolita reader that collects haunted dolls!

➥ Hi hun!! Its such a cool idea!! I kinda mixed it up together so hope its still fine!! Take care!!!

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Homicidal Liu

Liu is pretty open-minded person, like he is just glad you got somethig you are interested in!! Haunted dolls? Oh okay, he didnt expected that..isnt it a bit creepy? But even if he has no idea what is going on then he would love to hear you talk to him about your special interest!! Like come on!! He wants to hear everything, do they have names? Can you talk with them? ..Why are they haunted in the first place..? Introduce them to him!! Your eyes lit up in pretty way so he wants you to keep talking (plus he is obv interested!!). Liu isnt really scared, just a bit distant at first. Give him some time, and he will even take care of them if you couldnt be with them!

About your fashion sense, you are absolutely mesmerezing to him! Boy could stare at you for hours but that would propably be too creepy. Even if his fashion sense is pretty basic, Liu would totally let you dress him up!! He won't match your fashion sense at daily basis, but enjoys you making him look all pretty and he just loves spending more time with you! That way he can actually feel why you like to wear what you wear! Absolutely adores how well aesthetically you match to your interests.

Jane the Killer

Oh i feel like she would actually be into all this creepy, unsettling stuff! Horror movies, urban legends and of course haunted dolls! You are perfect match tbh. Jane is obviously curious about your collection, its impressive and she just love hearing you talking!! Like she would literally look at you with this sweet and caring gaze, maybe even holding you on her lap and caress your hair as you just spare informations with her! Treats your dolls with respect, and likes to keep them clean and safe (but if you dont feel comfy with letting other people touching you collections then she is more than fine too!), she is anything but scared!

I just love, love the idea of Jane being goth. Maybe a victorian one or romantic? Please it fits her soooo well! Yeah but thats just me saying silly things. So with your gothic lolita fashion, you match pretty well! You both will look amazing and you are this great looking couple whenewer you show up anywhere 😭 Would also like to try your style just for fun and do the same for you!!

Ticci Toby

Toby is scared and interested all at once!! Loves hearing you talking but would be scared to sleep at night.. better not leave him alone with them. He propably starts to remember all horror movies about haunted dolls and is scared for his life that they would kill him.. Just reassure him that its nothing like that and as the time pass by he will have more friendy attitude. But even tho he is scared, then he doesnt mind your passion at all! Whatever makes his partner happy!

You are like this overdressed partner x causal bf duo!! You dress so cool and there is Toby with his old and pilled sweater. I think that he would be even intimidate by your look at first, he would be shy too even look at you. Also, he would be happy to try some of your clothes (just like evryone here..) but he definitely prefer his cozy sweaters. Toby really likes to watch you getting ready when you are going somewhere, hair, make up or just choosing outfit..he cant look away! He isnt also the type of bf to get mad for waiting at you long time, so take as much time as you need!

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚　　 .　　. 　　　✦　　　　˚

[sansaorgana]

modern au has me on a choke hold

i was thinking about their social media, take your time answering, just rumbling

aegon is a tiktoker, and kinda of famous and loves pranking everyone and they are all done with his bs💀also he definitely has a yt channel and its always in everyone's personal space with his camera doing vlogs and wtv. he also has a instagram for thirsty traps all day everyday (yes he posts them on ttk too)

i feel like helaena has a tumblr where she posts a lot of pictures of flowers and all her bugs and she is like, really famous there, also i agree with you, she loves cats and post a lot of pictures of dreamfyre, really cute shit and she posts the same thing on her insta along with pictures of her and reader bc i love their friendship and i want be friends with her so bad </3

aemond is just like ewan lets be honest 💀 boy has a instagram with no picture and like 3 followers who are consisted of: helaena, reader and alicent (its private and he blocked aegon for obvious reasons) and i feel like when he started dating reader he changed his profile pic to a pic of him and reader, just really cute shit

(also, sorry for the long ask)

oooooh social media 👀

Aegon is a fuckboy from Tik Tok and most of his followers are thirsty teenage girls. No, despite him being an asshole, he doesn't take advantage of that because he knows they're still kids. He rather seeks one-night stands on Instagram while flirting with women in the DMs. I also have a feeling he'd be into women older than him. He loves a good milf. Yes, he would be a prankster but he'd also make gaming videos. Everything teenage boys like, too. So, he's one of those content creators who are kinda trapped with a teenage audience lol However, I don't think he'd be massively popular because it requires time and patience, meanwhile Aegon is lazy as fuck. He would also lose a bunch of heartbroken teenage followers after posting his videos with you.

Helaena is a Tumblr girlie 100% but, once again, I don't think she'd be popular at all. Plenty of blogs posting cottagecore aesthetics + bugs are rarely anyone's cup of tea. She wouldn't care, though, because she's not doing it for the notes. And she would have some online friends from Tumblr who were her only friends for a long time (I can relate lol)

Aemond blocking Aegon on social media is so true, omg! And yeah, he totally wouldn't post anything or he'd have like three posts on a private Instagram account (of his dog Vhagar). All would have sweet comments from Alicent. On Facebook he would have a screenshot from some cartoon as a profile picture. He's secretive but he also doesn't want to gather even more attention than usual. But, yes, for his girl he would change a bit. He'd let you post a picture with him once in a while and maybe, eventually, he'd change his Facebook picture to the one of you and him. He's also the type to have his sweetheart's picture as a Facebook header. Also, I wouldn't be surprised if Aemond had a Tumblr blog, too.

Alicent would have an Instagram only to follow her kids (and their girlfriends) and she always leaves cringe but sweet comments and she's posting things like her kids' pets, flowers in the garden etc. and the pics aren't edited and they're often out of focus. On Facebook she would share memes all the time because she's bored at home and she doesn't have much else to do. She would also spam her kids' messengers with links to some memes and scam articles from Facebook ("You're only wearing black? Find out what it means" @ Aemond for example). Oh, and she would think Aemond is super mean for blocking Aegon and keeps telling him to unblock his brother because she thinks this silly thing is a symptom of them hating each other for real or something like that (she's read somewhere that young people treat social media too seriously).

[codgod]

hi and welcome to a brief explanation of my slime hybrid headcanons that absolutely nobody asked for [featuring charlie, mike, and jevin for examples]

[under the cut because it is very long and also includes pictures lol]

all slime hybrids have poor eyesight! this is because slimes evolved to live and thrive in caves and since it’s so dark they don’t really need their eyes anyway, so sight has gradually gotten worse over time. think like olms/cave salamanders. they use their other sense to get around without glasses

they can change the colour/texture/shape of any part of themselves at will as long as it’s something they’ve encountered before. so they could give their skin the look/feel of metal [though it’s not as strong as actual metal] if they wanted

[or, yk, they can use it to look like their partners ex for some passive aggressive torture]

some use that ^ to make it look like they have bones, since slimes don’t actually need bones to maintain their shape. this is usually done by hybrids that prefer to still look like slimes [like jevin] rather than ones that prefer to look more human-ish [like charlie or mike] for the aesthetic of it all, since they’re transparent. they do also sometimes just claim random dead bodies as their own, but that’s not common practice or technically considered ethical [plus actual bones dissolve over time]

[jaw may or may not move how it’s supposed to lol]

on that note, slime hybrids don’t have to use their mouths to eat. they can just shove whatever they want to absorb into wherever they want on their bodies and it works fine. any that spend a lot of time around humans/non-slimes do use their mouths though, it’s only polite. also, does not have to be actual food, just something they can get energy or extra mass from [like when qslime spent all that time living on rotten flesh]

since they can shapeshift, slimes tend to have at least one “default” form that’s most comfortable for them to take/requires the least amount of energy to maintain. for some this is just a blob, but for others this could be more human-shaped, or even an animal. for example, charlie’s is humanoid but with some slime features showing through like patches of green skin/hair

[small changes like hair length, height, chest size, etc. or basically anything that doesn’t entirely change their look/take too much extra energy is still considered their “default” form. since my gegg design includes changed skin colour, hairstyle, glasses/eyes, whatever else, it’s a seperate form even if he’s still at least kinda recognisable as charlie]

when tired/emotional they tend to lose shape or become more slime-like if they’re usually more human-looking, like melting or changing back to their natural colour

they don’t have a rigid concept of a gender binary, so they’re generally fine with whatever people want to see them as. when communicating between each other slimes just use names, but some that live around humans might pick pronouns for themselves. they just as often don’t, though

okay this one’s a little silly but i think different colours have different flavours if you lick them. green is lime, blue is blue raspberry, pink is strawberry, yellow is piss lemon, etc.

also silly but they either hate being squished and stretched like actual slime or LOVE it it’s like stimming for them. put charlie in an industrial mixer with some biodegradable glitter he’s having the time of his life

[maxwell-grant]

Hello! While speaking with my friend about a concept for a silly little vampire story a question naturally arose; "Why do vampires, of all monsters, lend themselves so well towards humor?"

Hope you have a wonderfully spooky October!

Well hope you have a wonderful October as well!

Honestly I think all monsters lend themselves to humor in ways that haven't been fully tapped into, but I think vampires have that extra edge mainly because the main things that define them (needs to feed on others for sustenance, can't go out in the sunlight, immortal but can be killed in specific ways) are Rules. Rules and structure and consistency are things that you need to build a set-up, because you can't have a punchline without a set-up. Other monsters are more loosely defined, or have only a couple of rules that can usually be ignored, but you can't ignore the basic specifics of vampirism the same way. You can have a werewolf who doesn't turn on a full moon or due to weird birth circumstances related to the number 7, but you need to address the feeding aspect, or you don't have a vampire.

And the counterpoint to that is that vampires, while obviously they have aesthetic signifiers and tropes and Dracula-isms that people go to in defining them, are nowhere near as bound to their aesthetic traits as other kinds of monsters, so you can make anything and everything a vampire so long as you establish that parasitic aspect and the rules. If want to make your characters specific kinds of monsters you generally have to include the aesthetic signifiers that define them: Frankensteins generally need to be some kind of stitched-up corpse and/or giant, mummies need to have the wrappings or the lore, zombies need to cadaverous undead, werewolves need to be some kind of horrible animal (not necessarilly a wolf - Brazilian werewolves are commonly said to be more akin to pigs and boars, for example), but vampires?

If it's a parasitic monster that needs to feed on something otherwise it dies, and that something isn't just regular food, pretty much anything you do with them is fair game. The more out there you go with it, usually the better.

And because they're among the most popular unambiguous kind of monster (skeletons, witches, ghosts and aliens are there still but all sorta morphed into their own things overtime, vampires you still find at the forefront of every Halloween pack), everyone is familiar with what those rules are on the baseline, which means you have a much, much easier time doing jokes about the specifics of vampires than with any other kind of monster, and so it becomes more necessary to focus on specifics of the vampire's personality to make them stand out. Generally speaking, a Frankenstein is a type of character, a werewolf is half of a character when not in frenzied bloodlust, a ghost can be one or several characters, a zombie used to be a character, but a vampire needs to be a character, if you're not doing a Dracula pastiche (and even then) you can't bank on the shorthand as easily. It's a very competitive field.

Everybody knows the specifics of how vampires work, and so you get to play them straight or subvert them for comedy, and even make up new kinds of vampires out of twisting the premise around. A lot of what makes Colin Robinson from What We Do In The Shadows so funny is that, placed opposite a cast of fairly traditional vampires as somehow the most mundane personality as well as the weirdest freak among them, they can and do just constantly make up new shit about the way his existence and powers and biology works and get away with it, and constantly set you up for surprises more so than with the others. And they even still kinda do that for the others. All vampire media needs to place it's characters across a spectrum of possibilities.

Doesn't show up in mirrors, can't cross running water, needs to be invited into places, needs to stop and count marbles, needs to sleep in coffins, needs ancestral soil within said coffins to sleep in, etc. Needs to feed their blood to victims to reproduce, or actually doesn't need to do that. Can go centuries without a sip, or needs to kill a person every day to not die, or can just feed on cattle / the color red / other fluids. Can walk in the sun but weakened, can walk in the sun unbothered, can walk in the sun with careful skincare routines made from human sweat, instantly desintegrates if they play the desert level in a videogame, and so on.

Once you get past the baseline, you actually can get a lot more out of just piling up both weird new powers you never have to explain, as well as bullshit rules and specifics atop each other, because that's just how Vampire Lore works, and naturally each and everyone of those can be squeezed for comedy as well as horror. It's that old adage about how horror is comedy without the punchline and both need a dramatic investment into the set-up of how it works, before it can be torn down dramatically or comedically.

To be clear, I think this is something you can and should do more or less with all kinds of monster characters, but the thing is that, most of the others you do need you to go the extra mile and define them, what defines them, what if any are the rules and standards and limitations they live with. With ghosts and mummies and bugbears you do need to tug a bit at the concept and ask questions and walk your audience through some of those questions to get somewhere more than surface/aesthetic-based gags with them, where as with vampires, you can kinda skip a lot of that and just get to work pulling comedy out of the basic set-up and then subverting that.

Because yes, vampires live by codes and structures and rules, but there's also nothing we like more than telling those to get stuffed so we can do whatever we want. You need something to rebel against in order to rebel at all.

[poohsources]

HELLO EVERYONE! as the year is slowly but surely coming to its end, and i'm now home for the holidays, i thought it was finally time to make another one of these. partially to give a little update on what's been going on in my life and partially as some sort of retrospect for this past year and a look into my plans for next year.

looking back, it's been quite an eventful year — especially when compared to the weird covid years we had to deal with previously. the biggest change was probably my dropping out of college to start a dual studies program in law. i did like my college program just fine ( until i didn't anymore ) but i really feel like law is my thing. and apparently everyone else in my circle of family and friends thinks so as well because i seem a hell of a lot happier than i did before. kinda unfortunate it took me seven years since quitting high school to figure that bit out, but hey, at least i got there in the end. it's been quite time-consuming, and i feel like in those past five months, i've already learned more than i did in all my years of college, but it's fun. i also finally got some new friends my age again. it's also strange to think back that just one year ago i was still struggling financially and just generally dealing with some bad mental health stuff.

i'm actually happy now.

in terms of tumblr and roleplaying, i gotta be honest that i have been sidelining it a lot over the last months. sure, i'm still around but it's not my primary focus, and i'm learning that it's okay not to be online all the time. it's okay to take breaks and focus on other things because as much as i love this blog, the community and tumblr, there are some more important things now. still, i am and always will be eternally grateful to every single person who supports me - whether it is by liking or reblogging posts, sending asks or messages, following me or using any of my stuff. it means so freaking much to me, and i always feel so proud whenever i randomly see my own stuff pop up on my dash because mutuals use it. thank you all so very much! in a similar vein, i honestly still cannot fathom that i almost managed to double the follower count this past year. i'm probably not gonna reach the goal i've kinda been looking at until the end of the year but that's okay. i am so incredibly grateful for everyone here anyway. no matter what.

as for next year - i'm not too sure what i'm gonna do. of course. i'm gonna keep posting memes, and templates and whatever other stuff i feel like doing, but i think my activity is gonna keep on being spotty. i'm also still tempted to do commissions one day ( and we're totally gonna ignore that i've been saying this for over a year now, okay? ) but with the amount of time i don't have, i'm not sure i'm gonna be able to deliver on that. if i do finally build the courage and self-esteem to do that, it will be like an occasional thing that might take some time. however, one thing i do wanna do more of is gifs. i'm not sure what kind of gifs, but i enjoy making them and it's been way too long since i did them so i'm gonna see how i'm gonna incorporate that. or if anyone has any specific gifs they want, always feel free to shoot me an ask or a message. maybe also some aesthetic-y stuff? after all do love making pinterest boards for characters.

maybe i'll also do a blog reveal once i finally set up my multi that i've been planning to work on for months now. since i'm gonna scrap my current main blog ( which i haven't really been active on in a while now anyway ) i'm kinda thinking of coming back to writing and who knows, maybe i'm gonna reveal it here in case anyone would like to write with me.

anyway, this was a lot of rambling, and if you've made it this far, i once again wanna thank you. i know i do this a lot but i really do appreciate you all being here so much, and even after two years of having this silly little blog, it still feels unreal to me that so many people here enjoy what i do.

much love and happy holidays, pooh 🧡