#i'll edit more in the morning

[hoperays-song]

Johnny’s Money

Can we look at the money we see Johnny have in Sing 2? 

One, his wallet is literally falling apart at the seams which supports my last theory. Two, the money in his wallet in the above picture is wrinkled to all get out, the money he places on the table is very much not. 

That stood out to me in particular because we know the money on the table is $50, all in smaller bills by the looks of it, so it’s not money from a heist (especially with those being so long ago), and it’s more than likely not how he gets paid for his work at the theatre. No theatre as successful as the New Moon Theatre would be paying their employees in small bills, so why does he have so many in such good condition?

The money still in his wallet appears to be two small bills, a $20 and a $5(?) and are pretty wrinkled. They look like they might be change due to how fast they appear to have been shoved in the wallet and since Johnny just bought a skateboard, that’s what I’m going with. The money he probably used to buy that skateboard was more than likely his own from working at the theatre, and he probably withdrew it from his bank account before the trip to avoid losing his credit/debit card (the boy grew up in major cities and keeps his wallet in the inside pocket of his jacket, he’s all too aware of pickpockets).

Now on to the theory. The fact that all the clean, unwrinkled money is exactly $50 stood out to me. It seemed like an oddly specific amount to mention, so I looked it up. And it turns out that buses between Las Vegas and Los Angeles, the real world base locations of Redshore and Calatonia, can range from $25 to $60. Johnny might have some money he’s found or been given by Rosita or Buster during the trip, but it definitely wouldn’t be $50 worth, and would likely look more like the crumpled bills still hastily shoved in his wallet. So who would have given him money, a fair bit of money to be honest here, in neat, clean bills? 

Well it’s obvious, Marcus would. Johnny and his family don’t have a ton of money in Sing 2, more than in the first movie to be fair, but still nowhere near the “$50 being play money” mark. They would more than likely be overly careful with their money, keeping it in good condition so there’s no chance of it being rejected for being a damaged bill (yes, that can happen), so the neatness of the bills would make sense. 

Therefore, my theory is: Marcus gave his son enough money to make sure he could get home if he needed to. He made sure Johnny had an out if need be, could afford a bus ticket even if it was a more expensive one. And judging by the family’s rough finances, that was probably all the spare money they had laying around. That was what they had left from costumers after bills had been payed and he gave it all to Johnny just in case he needed it.

[lacecap]

something about this seems familiar to you

[larkingame]

the first version of larkin's alpha build (0.1.24) is now available to play on patreon!

[a2zillustration]

You mentioned before that you wanted to put together a ref sheet for croissant. Have you had the chance to do that yet? I love the low-derail gremlin doodles, but I kinda wanna see a high res version of them!

Alriiiight fine. I'd been putting this off for a long time but now was a good a time to make a reference as any since my d&d group is having our art secret santa this month.

[theusernameiwantisntavailable]

Persona 5/ Persona 5 royal spoilers ahead!

Okay so I did this WIP a while back that I discontinued but I'm still going insane about the meaning of it and also the symbolism of masks in this game and also akeshu parrallels so I need to Yap abt them

Yap session under the cut!

The symbolism of masks in this game drives my so batshit insane actually. Like. So often we see in media that people are finally free when they take their mask off (both metaphorically and literally) but in this game we see people's true forms when they put one ON.

Like the palaces are where we see people's true faces and desires. It's the place where no one can hide who they are. And yet it's one one place where you wear a physical mask and disguise and have to conceal who you are.

I could (and will at some point) write an entire essay about that but rn it's akeshu hours

Because Joker is arguably the best example of that, he becomes alive in the palaces, where his face his hidden. It's his freedom

Versus Akechi

The first time we see Akechi show his true form to Joker (and the player) is in what is percieved at the time as the real world. The entire time we work together in the palace, the place that shows who you are despite the mask you wear he hides who he is. It's only in the gritty real world that he reveals himself.

Joker in the real world is perceived (at least by people outside of his circle) as closed off and someone to be cautious around, he has a criminal record so he could be dangerous. The exact opposite of how he is in palaces, the centre of the team and a flame people are drawn towards

VERSUS AKECHI

In the real world he is a celebrity, he is loved, people are drawn to him. But in palaces he's cold and heartless, his words are cutting and he cares for no one, not hesitating to kill to achieve his goal

Opposites in every sense

THE ABSOLUTE PARALLELS IT DRIVES ME INSANEASHBANANSJAKSS

They were both ruined by the same man. They both ended up in their current predicament because of said man. They both had the potential to weild multiple personas. They both have the capability to lead. They are the exact same and yet the exact opposite

They don't need to lie awake at night and wonder what would they be like if their life had turned out slightly differently. They don't need to because they have each other. EVERYTIME THEY GO INTO A PALACE THEY SEE WHO THEY COULD'VE BEEN, THEY FIGHT WITH THAT PERSON SIDE BY SIDE EVERY NIGHT I'M GOING MAD

[lemons-pears]

"Come, sit down, I'm making-"

2am is a peculiar time in Shadow Company: some are fast asleep to face the coming day, some are staring at their ceiling, and some are still out and about. Of course, some members would hold roles that involve active duties past midnight.

However, some are avoiding the Sandman for different purposes entirely. Depending on the Shadow, some spend their time outside, watching the sky and, perhaps, indulging in a vice - whether that be smoking with the stars, or sharing a drink with past ghosts.

Others remain inside, though their bodies still as active as ever.

Communal kitchen, 2am. Or, he assumed it was communal, anyways.

Half of the ingredients he practically smuggled in himself, the other half he found unopened at the back of the cupboards. Unlike prior occasions, Moth's basically eyeballing it all the best he can with sleepy eyes.

Ingredients he's smuggled in include: glutinous rice flour (it looks so genuinely suspicious underneath his bed - wrapped in plastic, double bagged and it still left some remnants behind), coconut milk (oddly enough they had coconut cream, but not the milk itself) and cheese (cheddar - the fridge had an opened pack of American cheese, and processed cheeseburger slices). They're all spread out neatly and within arm's range.

Everything else - the eggs, butter, sugar and evaporated milk - was located in a couple minutes. To his surprise, he found some frozen banana leaf jammed deep inside the freezer. In case it belonged to anyone else, he took as little as he thought he needed. He'll ask about ownership later.

Sure, the normal recipe would call for more ingredients, but that would involve more smuggling, and Moth isn't in a position to ask Graves about the rules regarding what can and can't be kept in the pantry- turn the music on and start anyways.

'Strangers in the night exchanging glances

Wondering in the night, what were the chances...'

He lets the speaker take over the singing, silence being filled with sound: an old friend got him hooked on the tradition; before him it was himself and the quiet.

The recipe, how he remembered it anyways, was simple to follow. Having preheated the oven, he spent some time cutting up the banana leaf a little to fit the dimensions of the tin he found. Lining it with care, humming along to the music, and generally enjoying his night. This. This is his vice, in a sense.

Rhythmic cracking and whisking of eggs, he barely needs to measure how much flour he needs at this rate. Stabbing open the cans with a knife because he recalls how the can opener was recently broken. No questions about it. Sugar, butter- it all gets mixed in one glass bowl he rinsed in the sink.

It's fine. He'll clean up after himself once he's done. He stands, in his own bubble, whisking away. The batter needs to be rid of lumps, but not too overdone that it turns out wrong.

It's admittedly quite... domestic in the kitchen, a rare mercy when it comes to the culinary sphere in Shadow Company. He pays no attention to the busted up microwave, after all. He could stay there all night and bake if he wanted to-

"Ah! Kinam- er- good evening-" The music was too loud and he wasn't fully alert when the kitchen door swung open. Now some Shadow is standing there wondering what Sergeant Moth must be up to past midnight. Cradling a bowl in one arm and whisking away like a housewife, sunglasses pushed up on his head and mask covering up the microwave. Lord, he has an apron on too.

...Before they could ask, however, Moth's already quick to talk, practically beckoning them, "Come, sit down, I'm making bibingka." His startled appearance only melts away when they take a couple steps inside the kitchen; not a single appliance combusted once during his time inside so far.

Again, it's mostly quiet aside from the music. He's already finished pouring the batter into the tray, readying himself to put it inside the oven for however long it needs to bake for. They're just sat, watching. Almost childlike. There's a curiosity, at the very least.

"...Ading," Wrong- who cares, it's late, "If... if you want to help whilst you're here, then you could help me grate the cheese? Don't have to, obviously."

Still, he's talking them through the steps, winding up some egg timer. Preheat, line, mix, bake, top, broil. And make sure music is on, because: "Music gives the food some soul, no? Good atmosphere gives it a good mood to be prepared with." Understandably, Moth isn't exactly himself - it's late, he's less concerned with appearance or suitable behaviours. He's more casual than anything.

Looking over as he washed up, making sure they don't slice a finger on the box grater, "We'll put the cheese on top once the sides look done, then we'll broil it... You're doing great, by the way." Eyeing up the first aid kit on the wall anyways, just in case. He'll do some of the cheese preparation right before he pulls it out the oven and grate cheese. "...'m very grateful to have you here." That was bad.

A brief flash of heat when the oven door opens, and he slides the tray out a little. Cheese gets sprinkled on the surface of the bibingka, almost in excess. But good co-operation means extra reward, after all. And once it's all back in the oven?

Moth's handing the Shadow the egg timer, twisted up to a couple more minutes, with a proud look on his face. "I'll make sure the food's all out and cooling once this goes off, yeah? If I'm there then you're taking some, and if I'm absent, then you can take as much or as little as you want, alright?...As long as Commander Graves doesn't find out. Go do anything you need to, Ading." Praise. He's happy for having some company that isn't set and speaker-bound.

"...I'll see you around. Have a good night." Waves them off, takea a breather and... appreciates existing a little more.

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Ok nevermind I have apparently hit the tumblr photo post limit lmao, so I'll be back with more when it let's me!

[popcorn-plots]

who you say you are

i feel like shit so here we are

possible TW for discussions of periods and everything that happens during them, like bleeding through three layers of clothing (that was a wonderful night)

Stephen hated his periods. He hated the general feeling of unwellness during that week, and he hated having to clean blood out of everything after he inevitably bled through.. everything. The worst part about it, however, wasn't even the blood. It was the dysphoria. It was the fact that every month, his period would bring the lies of his mind, telling him that he wasn't a real man and never would be. That he was weak for whining about it.

That he was never Stephen and he never would be. That he was too feminine, or that he was never 'good enough' to pass as a man. The worst was his mind telling him that he'd always be a girl, that deep down... he was never Stephen in the first place. He was just little Lucy, trying on her dad's shirt.

On those days, Stephen would curl up on his bed, clutching a hot water bottle. Cloak would hold him as he sobbed, telling himself over and over again, like a mantra, that his name was Stephen Strange. On those days, he would ask Wong not to bother him, despite every fiber of his being yearning to be held, begging for someone to call him handsome and take away the pain.

He didn't think that Wong knew. He was near-positive that Wong had no idea that Stephen was trans. As far as the other sorcerer knew, Stephen was just another man. A man with a broken soul to match his broken hands and scarred chest.

~

It was one of those days (Dark Days, Stephen called them) when Stephen was in his room, clutching a pillow to his chest. A second was between his legs, pressed to his crotch. It was surprisingly helpful when dealing with cramps, the pressure on his lower abdomen easing the discomfort. Unfortunately, he had forgotten his heading pad in the library from when he last used it and when he finally needed it again, he was too comfortable to get it.

Magic was out of the option as well considering just how horrible he felt between the pain, dysphoria, and his hands. It was a bad hand day, because of course, and he really didn't want to move. Which, unfortunately, meant breathing through the pain and trying not to cry.

Eventually, he managed to fall into a light sleep, nodding off then jolting awake again. He woke up in a way that jarred his hands and he groaned. It might be time to sacrifice his comfort for some much-desired relief.

He was mentally preparing himself to climb out of bed when there was a knock at the door. "Stephen?"

Stephen blinked. "..Wong..?"

"You left your heating pad in the library." Wong announced.

Stephen sighed. "I know. Leave me alone."

"I warmed it up for you. I thought you might need it. May I come in?" Stephen didn't respond. Wong had found his heating pad and warmed it up for him. For a second, Stephen wondered if Wong knew, but he had hidden it so well-- "Stephen?"

"...yeah. you can come in."

There was a click as the doorknob turned, then Wong was walking across the room in brisk strides, stopping in front of the nest of blankets that was Stephen Strange. "Here." he set the heating pad down near Stephen's hands. "I also have tea and some of your painkillers. It's raining today."

Stephen let out a shaky breath. Maybe Wong was just looking out for his hands. That would explain it, right? But Wong was never so... caring. Aside from his the week after Everest and his usual quiet help when Stephen needed to handle large stacks of books.

"You're paler than usual. If you turned yourself into a vampire on accident, I will kill you again." Stephen huffed.

"I'm not a vampire."

Wong reached out a hand and felt Stephen's forehead. Stephen nearly froze at the contact, but didn't say anything. He tried to look anywhere but Wong until the hand was gone. "You're not running a temperature."

"I'm trans." Stephen found himself blurting out.

Wong looked at him. Blinked. "Do you need any supplies?"

Supplies...?

"Pads, tampons? You disappear in your room once every four weeks, only coming out for food and when you do, you look horrible. Deathly pale, hunched over as if in pain, it wasn't hard to figure out."

Stephen looked up at his friend. Wong had taken a seat in the armchair next to Stephen's bed -- one of the large library chairs that had found itself in Stephen's room after a few too many vigils of Wong's when Stephen found himself injured.

"You... you never said anything."

"If you wanted me to know, you would have told me when the time was right."

"You... always made my favorite meals."

Wong huffed a rare smile. "I have never menstruated, but I can sympathy. I have a sister. She was always... vocal with.. everything. I did what I could to make her feel better."

Stephen smiled. "It sounds like you love her."

"Very much." Wong was smiling ever so slightly. Stephen found that watching Wong smile seemed to take the pain away.

"What's her name?"

"Li." It was soft, spoken just above a whisper. "You'd like her."

"Li. Pretty name." Stephen sighed. "Mine was-- is--"

"Stephen."

Stephen paused. He stared at Wong. Wong stared back. "Your name is Stephen. You are Stephen Strange. Do not give me your dead name. It is dead for a reason. You are who you say you are, not what someone else wants you to be. You told me on your very first day that your name is Stephen Strange. That is who you are. If you wish for me to use a different name, then I will. I respect you, and I will respect you, whoever you decide to be."

Stephen swallowed, tears pricking his eyes. He refused to let himself cry in front of Wong, of all people. Wong looked at him again and nodded. "You are Stephen Strange. Remember that."

Before he knew it, Wong had closed the door behind him and Stephen was sobbing into his pillow.

A few hours later, Stephen woke up feeling a hundred times better than before. He decided to find his way to the kitchen for dinner, now that the cramps had disappeared.

He found Wong at the stove, making friend rice. Wong's go-to comfort food that had quickly become Stephen's as well."

"Thank you." Stephen whispered. Wong responded by dishing Stephen and himself a large helping of rice.

"Of course, Stephen."

[copia]

there are so many scenes i'd love to edit & share on tumblr but honestly that film hit me so hard even on the third watch that i've realised i shouldn't 😭😭 because if i spend hours on photoshop i'll ruin it for myself. no reason to post this really other than to say What a great film. i love rhrn & ghost with all my heart i'm so glad i'm around to live through this. lots of love to everyone else who felt it just as strongly as the first time around

[scandalouslamb]

ever since I was a little girl (back in January after I was born again after becoming reacquainted with Felix Ravinstill), I have always wanted to write a Festus Creed dogfighting fic, but I always held off because 1) I didn't know too much about dogfighting and 2) I was afraid that I might accidentally make him so unlikable that I would be his only fan... well, now that we are all at the devil's sacrament together, I am happy to announce that I am confident enough that enough of us revel his negative qualities enough that I will not have to pull double duty as Felix and Festus' singlular fan. Also I finally got around to making myself sad about dogfighting through reading articles...

[kodii-ak]

Back Pain 💥

[id: A sketch of a fox lying on the ground. It's back is facing the camera, and a long, jagged line runs along where it's spine should be. /end id]

[front-facing-pokemon]

[arklay]

RESIDENT EVIL → DR. DIANA WESKER

"This is how a girl becomes holy: first she becomes empty." — Brynne Rebele-Henry, Prelude

[templates × & × — insp — playlist]

[yakny]

"WHY LIFT THE CURTAIN OF NIGHT AND WANDER AROUND THE WORLD TO EXPERIENCE PAIN AND LONELINESS? AMIDST A DEEP DREAM, A BEAUTIFUL LIFE WILL REACH THE OTHER SIDE OF ETERNITY."

★. I had plans to be productive this entire July. Sadly, things don't always go as planned —thanks art block :D!— but move on we must. On the bright side, I finished the drawing above in July so at least my July entry for my art summary won't go empty :}

★. Below are what used to be finished pieces to be uploaded in July but upon closer inspection, I determined them to still be unfinished. Yes, all of these are of Bobo and Louie. No, I'm still not over that web weave I made a while back.

[todayisafridaynight]

ignore if you don't give one for my streams Anyways potential stream schedule goin forward Just Until I Finish Judgement

thursday i'll stream judgement from like. 3:30 ~ 7:30

friday'll be 4:30 ~ 8:30

saturdays will be the usual 3:30 ~ . fuckin whenever LMAO art stream i do

[outeremissary]

I may be late but I never forget. Two months ago @dmagedgoods tagged me to fill this template out and at last I finally have. I’m... not much of a digital artist, so I’ve tried to compensate how I could. Unfortunately, resolution issues may undermine my efforts. I did my best though!

Due to having been tagged on this two and a half months ago I will not even be making an attempt to send this anywhere.